#continue supporting him by letting him carry on with his passion!

[usertoxicyaoi]

"You don't get it, do you? You don't get it."

MY PERSONAL WEATHERMAN (2023).

[fairene]

passenger princess / ln4

established relationship lando norris x fem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.

prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡

a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.

wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)

things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him. 

but he knew. he knew exactly when.

you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.

that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend. 

you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time. 

“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms. 

she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs. 

p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.

“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous. 

“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”

the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted. 

what you wanted,

your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.

as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask. 

you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.

“mate?”

lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy. 

lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p. 

your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable. 

you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure. 

he found himself smiling bright. 

do you want kids? 

he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.

when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?” 

lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out. 

the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to. 

“when?”

lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.” 

max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket. 

“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.” 

max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?” 

lando felt giddy.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you. 

p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working. 

but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in. 

“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker. 

you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?” 

the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.” 

you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”

“because he hasn’t asked me.”

“why don’t you ask him?” 

“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.

she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”

now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”

she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled. 

you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you. 

with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p. 

“are you going to have babies?”

“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.” 

she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”

“of course i do, p.”

she gasped.

“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough. 

you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.” 

she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest. 

“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand. 

“nothing.” 

but it wasn’t nothing.

lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p. 

“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?” 

she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”

and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly. 

too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 

and a good one at that. 

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p? 

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 

“wore it for you.” 

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door. 

the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.

as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks. 

when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves. 

“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.” 

you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard. 

lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge. 

you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling. 

“you’ll win this for me?”

he scoffed, “always.” 

you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth. 

you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.” 

“don’t care.” 

you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.” 

he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away. 

“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature. 

“what?”

“nothing…” she looked away.

“lily.” 

“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily. 

“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’” 

the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.

your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner. 

god…

was there anything more prideful than that?

surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that. 

the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag. 

there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory. 

a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier. 

the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room. 

“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future. 

you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side. 

he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando. 

after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando. 

you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day. 

“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in. 

“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle. 

“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water. 

“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.” 

you gave her a heart-warming smile. 

“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.

“are you sure…?” 

marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick. 

“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?” 

is everyone asking that today?

you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.” 

“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.

“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.

“someone has baby fever.” marta commented. 

“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.” 

“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble. 

“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.” 

you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife. 

it did. 

he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard. 

your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested? 

fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking. 

you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.

he overheard the conversation, too. 

“do you plan on having children? with lando?” 

for sure. there’s no one else i’d want. 

fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.

yeah, he’s fucked. 

after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat. 

you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him. 

his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.

“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold. 

“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.” 

you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.

lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.” 

he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.” 

you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.

“well, go on, then.” 

“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.” 

you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.” 

“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.” 

“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled. 

“what was that, baby?” 

“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent. 

“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.” 

you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above. 

 “you heard…all of it?” 

“the gist.” 

you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now. 

“fuck. i didn’t mean to—” 

“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down. 

when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off. 

“i want kids, too, you know. with you.” 

“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?” 

he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”

you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”

“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him. 

though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.

you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again. 

“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.

“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead. 

the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls. 

“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?” 

you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.

“driving me fucking nuts, darling.” 

you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.

it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.

“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.

 with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder. 

down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child. 

“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!” 

“thank you,” the woman said.

“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles. 

the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?” 

jackpot..!!

you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…” 

the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,” 

“you think so?” 

she nodded her affirmation. 

“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening. 

“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door. 

“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”

she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.” 

you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”

“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.

you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’. 

he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?” 

he didn’t answer you. 

you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going. 

it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park. 

“what are we—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air. 

“husband?” 

oh

oh…!

well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms. 

he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans. 

“don’t know what you’re—”

he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”

your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit. 

you mewled. 

“what was that?”

your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words. 

“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him. 

“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied. 

he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.

“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.

“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal. 

“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.” 

his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision. 

he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing. 

his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.

the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—

but it did. 

he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy. 

you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now. 

with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes. 

but this…this is not what you expected. 

he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger. 

it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off. 

“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.” 

you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger. 

“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”

the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.” 

“good, baby, you learn fast.” 

you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it. 

“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne. 

his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level. 

“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…” 

you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time. 

“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling. 

“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.” 

you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go. 

“daddy.” 

if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames. 

you were his undoer,

the key to his shackled restraint,

the sun to his universe.

it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear. 

lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you. 

but seeking the future together?

heaven incarnate.

despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis. 

“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace. 

he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was. 

lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person. 

because he was yours. 

then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat. 

“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone. 

“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another. 

with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot. 

you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you. 

echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more. 

“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin. 

“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out. 

his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy. 

he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child. 

“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?” 

your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words. 

“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else. 

“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut. 

“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?” 

your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth. 

“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen. 

“lando…”

his head shot up from his daze. 

“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate. 

“what, pretty girl?”

your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair. 

he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”

“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.” 

it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.” 

“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him. 

“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light. 

with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat. 

out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you. 

you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh. 

“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls. 

“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.” 

he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”

you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.” 

he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.” 

you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.” 

his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”

you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.” 

it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty. 

when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god. 

you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear. 

“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.

“they should auction it.” 

you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.” 

“need all that room for you.” 

“cheesy.” 

lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently. 

he pulled out a bracelet.

a friendship bracelet. 

“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:

“MOMMY”

“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed. 

he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.” 

you gasped. “lando!” 

“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger. 

“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?” 

lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”

“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.” 

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room. 

after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?” 

he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile. 

“what, lando?” 

he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”

“what?” 

“you’re dripping.”

you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t. 

you really hoped it wasn’t. 

tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

[luvfy0dor]

“You Know That I'm Obsessed With Your Body ♡⁠˖” BSD Men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma, H.P. Lovecraft

Warnings; Suggestive, kisses, hickeys, bite marks, allusions to self harm (Dazai), sh scars (Dazai), prolly a little ooc

Description; BSD men and their physical attributes

A/n; CAS lyric title!!! But I cannot bring myself to write reqs RN so............but guys i actually talked to a guy OMG never thought I'd have big enough balls but I got his ig ^w^

⑅Chuuya Nakahara⑅

Chuuyas arms are beautiful to you, they're not insanely buff and they're not thin, but at a perfect equilibrium. They're decorated with intricate tattoos and beautiful colors, and sometimes small dotted lines left by your teeth or maroon spots formed by your love and passion for each other. You loved feeling them wrap around your torso or waist with him leaning his head against your back, letting all the thoughts in his mind flow from his mouth like a waterfall. Other times, he'd hang his arms over your shoulders, letting you feel his biceps against the nape of your neck, ghosting over the baby hairs on your skin. His arms can carry you too, no matter your weight. If it'd make you feel better, he'd use his ability to help and reassure you that he won't drop you or let you get hurt.

“There we go, darlin', see, I told you I wouldn't let you get hurt. Literally not even the strongest gust of wind could knock me over with you right now, so quit worrying.”

⑅Osamu Dazai⑅

Dazai has such a gorgeous torso, bandaged or not. His skin is soft on contrast to the rough and volatile life he's always lead. The only patches of skin that aren't smooth are the ones that are littered with past scars, whether self inflicted or from other people. When Dazai trusts you enough, he'll ask you to help him take off his bandages before bed, letting your fingers brush over the rigid bumps and sharply inhaling while adjusting to your sweet touch in a new, naked place. He lets you kiss the scars and it helps him feel a little relaxed receiving your acceptance through soft kisses and affection instead of being pitied or shamed for his past. It's not like you encourage it, but you don't waste your breath on lecturing him on why he shouldn't have. It's in the past, so instead you'll offer your support for him now rather than dwelling on what you can't change.

“Mmnn...your lips are so soft on my back, baby...keep going, sweetheart, you know how much I love feeling your kisses on my skin...”

⑅Nikolai Gogol⑅

Nikolais thighs could resurrect a dead man, and you couldn't help but feel the same way every time you had your head between or against them. Occasionally your hands would hold them apart and squeeze or grope at them, feeling the firmness beneath the palm of your hand. The pressure from your fingertips leaves temporary pale spots with every pinch and your teeth and tongue leave red ones in your wake as you kiss, suck, and bite all over his thigh, and he loves it. Nikolai loves the harsh feeling of your teeth clamping around his skin, making him gasp and giggle in excitement with a hand on your neck encouraging you to continue. He's got a higher pain tolerance, so if you like to give lovebites, especially on thighs, he's your guy.

“Ah-! Oh, don't worry dove, it doesn't hurt. You know I have a good pain tolerance! You can keep going, hehe, I don't mind it.”

⑅Fyodor Dostoevsky⑅

Fyodors hands are thin and pale aside from some select spots with higher blood concentration. His nails are bitten down to the quick almost always and his fingers are bony and thin. They rest gently on your hips when you sit on his lap while he types or just relaxes with you, his thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric of either your top or bottoms. Sometimes they'll travel upwards, resting against your midsection and making you shiver from their low temperature. He'd laugh under his breath at your reaction and slide them further up, loving the idea that he has you squirming in his grasp. Otherwise, he'd keep a hand on your thigh, rubbing it out of habit modestly. In public he keeps his hands to himself, but in private his hands have a mind of their own.

“Are they that cold, Moya Lyubov? You'll get used to it eventually, unless you'd like to find your own way to warm my hands up?”

⑅Sigma⑅

Sigmas jawline is so defined and Everytime you look at it, an overwhelming urge to kiss along it bubbles up inside of you. Sigma doesn't dislike it, but he'll act like he does, always squirming and playfully grimacing. Eventually he'll give in though, holding your hand while you pepper soft pecks along his skin. He'll return them all over your cheeks and nose, tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can't help but watch Sigmas fingers trace over his jawline while he's deep in thought about this that and the other, admiring how perfect it looks on him.

“H-hey, knock it off, I'm in the middle of fillin' out papers! I said quit it- huff...fine, just a few though! You're really distracting, you know that?”

Bonus; ⑅ H.P. Lovecraft⑅

His hair is so long and luscious- how could you not want to run your fingers through it while your sleepy boyfriend lays his head in your lap? The upper half is smooth and straight while it changes into silky curls towards the bottom, though they're not the tightest and allow for your fingers to brush through them with minimal effort. He loves the feeling of your hands against his scalp, giving soft hums and groans of a relaxed pleasure. His face has his usual neutrality regardless of how nice it feels to get his head massaged by his lover. He frequently lets you pull it into a ponytail or put it into braids or whatever style you please. He lets you brush it, too, as long as you start at the bottom instead of ripping the brush through his hair.

“Mnn...that feels nice, dear...don't mind if I fall asleep on top of you, I can't help it.”

A/n; I feel so bad for not getting to requests, something like this was the easiest thing to do this week though because I had mock trial comp right after school so i couldn't write anything from 8am-7;30 pm some nights and it was the end of the quarter so i had to focus more on school work.

[futurewdclandonorris]

The Interview | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader

Warnings: smut

Requested: yes

A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3

Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.

Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.

As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.

“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"

"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.

His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.

"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"

Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.

"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.

Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.

Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"

For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.

You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"

“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”

“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."

Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.

“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.

Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.

You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.

“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.

You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.

You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.

The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.

Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.

"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.

"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”

As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.

You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.

The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.

“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”

"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.

You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.

Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.

Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.

Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.

“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.

��Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.

Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.

“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”

His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."

Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.

Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.

Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”

Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.

“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.

His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.

“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”

“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.

“I was getting myself comfortable—”

“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”

His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.

In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.

Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.

As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.

“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.

“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.

You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.

“Then kiss me,” you breathed.

Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.

He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.

He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.

His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.

Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.

Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.

Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.

He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.

You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.

He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.

He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.

You reached down and pulled off his pants��the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.

You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.

He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.

He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.

Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"

“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.

You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.

Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.

“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.

You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.

Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.

“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.

You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.

Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless. 

You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.

You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.

You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.

As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.

With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.

[hesperisms]

// The Alphabet of Zayne

"If you can't grasp it with one hand, try using both hands..."

// summary: my attempt at the lewd Alphabet A-to-Z of Zayne.

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), the whole thing is lewd, says so on the tin.

// a/n: goes without saying, but these are just my personal headcanons around Zayne. yours may be different and that's A-OK. Sylus Alphabet coming up next.

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

A // Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): Being a doctor, Zayne has you up and out of bed into the bathroom right away, giving you a cheeky pat on the backside if you protest as he hustles you out of bed, telling you that you need to go pee (he does not want to be the cause of a UTI and will feel terribly guilty if he has to support you through one). If your legs are too shaky he will carry you bride-style into the bathroom himself and will happily join you in the shower cleaning up after your sessions because it gives him more opportunities to worship your body.

B // Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner): Zayne likes his hands, mostly because you've convinced him that they're fantastic. He's always had skilled, dexterous and lithe hands and they've enabled a very successful career, but they became his favorite body part the day you gushed over how hot they looked when your couples glint photobooth photos came back. It amused him that you couldn't explain what you loved so much about them, but now rather than hide his scars, he will find ways to roll up his sleeves around you and give you a subtle show after work because he knows it turns you on. Conversely, his favorite body part of yours is also your hands; how they fit so small in his, the way you brush your fingers over his bottom lip when you cup his cheek, the way your fingers feel snaked through his hair in the throes of passion, how delicately they wrap around his cock...

C // Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): When Zayne cums, it's a lot; multiple bursts, thick and milky white, never watery. Even his precum is kind of thick and milky and there's a lot of it, he's an oozer. He's never been the type of man to masturbate before he met you and even now, he needs to feel desperately needy to, so he's pent up a lot and unleashes it on you every time you're together. Given his high sugar content in his diet and his predilection for sweet treats, his cum always tastes vaguely sweet, one of the reasons why you let him continue to eat as many sweets as he does.

D // Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): If you give him the opportunity, prior to you taking a work trip, Zayne will sometimes steal your panties. You don't even question it when he starts to buy you lingerie sets and panties. There's no need to call him out on it, he's not greedy; he'll only ever take one pair at a time and you always find them washed and returned to your panty drawer by the time you return home. It started by sheer accident; he slipped your soaking wet panties off under your dress when you two were fooling around in public one night and he didn't want you to lose them so he pocketted them and you both forgot about it. The next day you'd gone away for work for a few days and when he found them in his pocket doing his laundry, full of the scent of you it had driven him into a rare masturbation session.

E // Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): Zayne was a virgin before you. He'd never especially been interested in women, his studies had always come first and then his career, so relationships took a back seat and then before he knew it, you were back in his life, taking your rightful place with him. When things started to get more serious with you, he started to do some research privately so that he wouldn't disappoint you in bed, nothing lewd like watching porn but journals on erogenous zones, g-spot identification and stimulation, clitoral sensitivity and squirting. He wanted to be prepared for anything you might throw at him, because while you were his first, he's reasonably confident he's not your first, but he's never wanted to ask and have it be confirmed.

F // Favorite position (this goes without saying): Girl on top. He loves having you in his lap, straddling him, your perky tits bouncing right in front of his mouth, he gets to look into your eyes while you ride him, he can't get enough of it. This position feels like a cheat code to him, it lets him hide some of his inexperience because it lets the natural curve of his cock apply pressure to your g-spot and he can circle his thumbpad on your clit to provide you with extra stimulation. He's very intense in his need for you, so if you're not careful you'll find your chest and neck covered in love bites after a session in this position.

G // Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): Zayne has a very dry, cheeky sense of humor, so jokes made in the heat of the moment sometimes get misunderstood and taken seriously. That said, he leans to the more serious side when he's being intimate with you, but during foreplay he will make jokes, tickle you, laugh with you.

H // Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): Zayne is meticulous in his personal grooming, he knows body hair can trap in body odor, so he maintains himself impeccably. His chest and his armpits are naturally bare, but he shaves his treasure trail completely and manscapes his pubic hair into a cropped short, neat little bundle. He's very particular about his hair, he doesn't like it out of place, but he'll make an exception for you stroking his hair or grabbing fistfuls of it in a moment of pleasure.

I // Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): Zayne is obsessed with you, so he's very romantic - every session with you is him making love to you. He wants to look into your eyes, capture every moan, every whimper, every tremble and lock it away in his memory for the times you're not with him, he wants to worship you head to toe. Every time he's with you, whether he's being slow and teasing or more desperate and needy, he's seducing you.

J // Jack off (masturbation headcanon): As mentioned above in C and D, masturbating is rare for Zayne - if he's getting off, you need to be involved in some way or it's just not worth it for him. He's never been the type of man to watch porn and get off for the sake of it, it needs to mean something for him so he'll only ever masturbate if you've called him or facetimed him and stirred him up, or if he's had the opportunity to steal a pair of your panties to keep him company while you're out of reach.

K // Kink (one or more of their kinks): You and Zayne have naturally slotted into a soft dom / pleasure dom type of situation in your bedroom antics. He knows you have a praise kink from the way he felt your heart rate surge the first time he called you a good girl, and driving you wild drives him wild, so he loves to play into it for you. Conversely, the first time you held up one of his expensive silk ties and said you'd been a bad girl that needed to be tied up, he felt an incredible rush of blood to his loins. When you look up at him doe-eyed through your lashes and call him Sir, it sends a jolt straight to his cock.

L // Location (favorite places to do the do): Zayne doesn't like to rush his lovemaking and he's a very private, stoic person, so he prefers the bedroom, or the couch. He has slipped on occasion and made love to you in his office with the door locked and his evol having frozen over the handle so it can't be turned, but he has a reputation to consider so those moments of weakness are few and far between. When you're in his bed, he can encourage you to be as loud as you like and he can join you in really letting go.

M // Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): In a word, You. Your pleasure is like a drug to him, he is obsessed with worshipping your body, feeling you come undone on his cock, his hands, his tongue, committing every little mewl and cry of passion to his memory. He needs to hear you screaming his name in pleasure, nothing turns him on more.

N // No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Zayne doesn't swear, he doesn't like to hear swearing from you either. He feels quite strongly that you can express yourself lewdly and dirty talk without needing to resort to it. He also won't do anal - if you try and bring up the suggestion to him, he will go full Doctor mode and explain to you in detail why anal sex isn't going to have any benefits for you. Finally, being the jealous and possessive type, Zayne will never share you with anyone in any kind of polyamorous situation or a threesome. You're his and his alone.

O // Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Zayne is a munch, he loves to eat you out. When you get back from a work trip he will be on his knees in front of you at the door, slurping away at your pussy like a man that hasn't eaten a proper meal in days. Due to his lack of experience sexually he's a messy eater, loud and dedicated to suckling orgasms out of you back to back until you shove his face away from you. He loves to kiss you after he's eaten you, rubbing his sopping wet lips and chin all over your mouth so you can taste yourself on him once he's done. He's very touch-sensitive so he rarely likes to receive head because he finds it hard to edge himself and not just cum down your throat, but every time he lets you, he insists on kissing you afterwards.

P // Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): Depending on the mood that you've stirred him into, Zayne is either slow and sensual, or slower but intensely forceful. His idea of rough sex is not hard and fast, but pulling all the way out slowly, then slamming back into you and pressing his hips deeply into yours until you cry out, making sure you feel him as deep as you possibly can.

Q // Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): Zayne doesn't like quickies at all. If there's a situation of you two having a potential quickie, he would rather edge and tease you and leave you wanting until later when he can get you home or back to your hotel room and properly pleasure you. If you're being insistent, he might slide his hands under your skirt and finger you at traffic lights to get you off while he drives you somewhere, but he won't partake himself, he'll save it for later in private.

R // Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): Being a doctor, he leans towards the risk-averse. He's open to roleplaying sexually with you, open to some more vanilla bondage aspects like tying your hands with his tie or spanking, but he doesn't get too exotic. Despite you being the love of his life and woman he wants to marry, he insists on condoms even though he knows you're on the pill because the pill isn't 100% effective on it's own. If you asked him about stopping the use of condoms however, he'd be open to it...but it needs to be your ask, he'd never ask you himself.

S // Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): Due to his inexperience, once he's inside you Zayne tends to cum somewhat quickly and only lasts a few minutes, but being a surgeon and very fit, his stamina is through the roof so he recovers incredibly quickly and is ready to go another round in a very short amount of time. He'll cum, eat your pussy to another orgasm and by the time you're done falling apart on his tongue, he'll be ready to slide back in and go again for you.

T // Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): Zayne bought you an app-controlled egg vibrator during a particularly long stint away from you where he'd been working remotely for almost a month. It has a two fold purpose: he gets to ensure he's still pleasuring you even when he can't be physically with you, and he gets to be sure you're going to bed and sleeping at a reasonable hour. It has a pavlovian response in you, the closer to 10pm you see the clock get, the wetter you start to get until you see the little push alert that tells you he's logged into the app and is waiting for you to turn the toy on.

U // Unfair (how much they like to tease): Zayne is an incorrigible tease. He will stir you up relentlessly whispering all sorts of tantalizing nothings in your ear in public, but if you try and touch him and act on them, he won't let you. He will edge you in his lap, holding your hands behind your back, coaxing the answers he wants to hear out of you or he'll stop touching you.

V // Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): He is a MOANER. Zayne is very vocal, gasps, moans, whimpers, growls, pants, all of it escape his lips shamelessly in moments of passion, when he orgasms it's loud and needy, moaning your name in a throaty whine of pleasure. It's another reason why he tries to keep his sexual activities in private and will only have sex in public if he's absolutely sure no one is around (ie: in a secluded garden in the dead of night) because he is LOUD.

W // Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): Zayne would love to experiment with using his evol in a pleasure situation, but he's a little intimidated by the prospect of an evol backlash when he's so unrestrained so he hasn't bought it up to you yet. The idea of making a little ball of ice he can roll against your clit, or a toy of ice he can slide into you is something he's interested in exploring in the future though.

X // X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): Zayne is circumsized, given both his parents are doctors too, and he's a grower, not a shower. He looks fairly average soft, but grows to about 7.5 inches when erect. He's got a curve straight upwards to his cock and it sits high, which makes it perfect for straddling him. He's got average girth, nothing excessive, but you're so small compared to him that it still requires warming you up before you can take him.

Y // Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): His body years for yours all the time, it takes no time at all for you to feel him get hard against you if you cuddle him too long, if you rub your ass against him deliberately to tease him, if you shift in his lap a little too much when you're cuddling watching TV or playing games together. It depends on your moods and situation as to whether or not you'll both act on it and have sex, but his body is keenly enamored with yours.

Z // Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): Due to his PTSD from his time as a battle medic at Mt Eternal, Zayne can sometimes be a light sleeper, so a session with you can be just what he needs to exhaust him enough to fall into a deep, peaceful sleep without his regular nightmares. He tends to fall asleep very quickly in your arms, because it's where he feels the safest.

[mrskokushibo]

After Party

Part 2 of Dinner Party

Kyojuro x fem!reader x Sanemi

Warnings: Sex, Smut, NSFW, MDNI, 18+, Threesome, Anal, Oral, The Works.

Summary: After the DInner Party orgy it is time to face the consequences because, let's face it, you have been naughty, and Kyojuro has to show you who is the boss.

Masterlist

It was well past midday the following day when you eventually left Tengen’s place after a very long night. Out of exhaustion, everyone slept in till near lunchtime.

Well at home, as soon as you entered through the door, you found yourself on your knees, Kyoujuro stuffing his cock down your throat.

‘You disappointed me tonight, my love’

Kyo spoke in the softest of voices, while gently moving your hair away from your face, twisting it around his wrist to get a better grip. He lifted your chin up so that you could look him in the eyes. You wanted to answer, but your mouth was too full and all you could do is look at him pleadingly.

‘Just like that’ he started bucking his hips into you, with one thrust slightly too deep making you gag heavily. He let you pull away and find composure. When you did it was your turn to speak.

‘It’s not like you weren’t in on it. You seemed happy fucking away.’

He smirked holding your head up again.

‘But you see, this is not what I am aiming at. It’s your little interaction with Tengen that I have a problem with. That was more than just fucking, if you may ask me.’

‘You are mistaken’ you retaliated.

You were eyeing off his dick hungrily as both the situation you were in now and the memory of Tengen’s fond treatment of you was making you horny as fuck. You reached out for his cock, but Kyo blocked your movement.

‘Ah ah ah, not so fast my dear. If you want it you will need to ask nicely. See it as an apology, a part of it at least.’

‘Please Kyo, can I suck your cock’

you said in a slightly irritated voice. All you wanted was to feel his large shaft fill your mouth and here he was creating drama.

‘No, my love, not like this. You sound like a brat. Say it NICELY.’

He still had a hold on your hair and was holding your head up.

You resigned, looking him in the eye with the sweetest of expressions and batting your eyelids, you murmured in a sultry voice:

‘Please, my dearest husband, let me suck your cock and drink your cum. I dream of it…’

‘Definitely better.’

And with that, he guided you back to his groin and let your mouth and throat engulf him.

You could tell, he was not far from coming, the exchange must have aroused him quite a bit. It seemed as if he was discovering a more dominant side of himself and did not mind you being his submissive bitch.

You pushed him lightly toward the nearest wall, to grant him more support and he closed his eyes as he leaned his head back on the wall. You were now working frenetically on his cock, making him twitch and grow, the lewd wet little sucking and gagging sounds and muffled moans were driving him to the point of no return. He grabbed your head and bucked his hips into you, filling your tight throat with a huge load of his salty juices, as he rode out his orgasm and emptied himself completely, he slowly pulled out and squatted down in fatigue. You grabbed his head and kissed him passionately.

‘Mmmm, baby, you were so good’

he whispered, still catching his breath.

‘Give me a moment and I will reward you’

You continued to kiss him as his breath was slowly steadying. He now got up and pulled you up with him. He then picked you off the ground and you wrapped your legs around his hips. He carried you like this to the nearby bedroom, where you almost ripped each other’s clothes off.

You were now on the bed with Kyo’s head between your legs, kissing you softly on your wet folds. He snaked his tongue between them and licked your opening while rubbing your little hard bud. You were close to edging due to your long-standing arousal. The feeling of Kyoujuro working on you like that was making you dizzy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

‘I am sorry, my love, but I need to be inside you.’

With this, he crawled on top of you and put you in a mating press. Squeezing you together like a ragdoll he positioned himself hovering above you. His cock entered you seamlessly and you could feel the tip press on your cervix. Your moans were loud and hoarse, this felt so bloody good.

‘I will breed you, my little wifey. Would you like me to fuck a baby into you?’

he asked through gritted teeth while pumping into you like a maniac, his balls slapping your ass. ‘Yes…please Kyo… breed me. Pump me full of your cum!’

You were nearly screaming out the last bit and after that, you dissolved into a powerful orgasm, taking away any last bit of sense and decency, you screamed like a savage. Kyo kept on pumping into your puffy cunt, while your clenching muscles were milking him relentlessly toward his imminent release.

‘I’m….commming’

He groaned through gritted teeth and with flexing and clenching abs, he produced a last powerful thrust into you, emptying his balls once again. A few last slow pumps and he collapsed on top of you panting heavily.

‘Fuck, I needed this. Thank you’

He placed a kiss on your forehead and soon sprung up on the way to the shower.

After you showered, and came out to the kitchen, he was waiting for you with a cup of coffee. He was leaning against the kitchen counter as he handed you the cup, looking at you with a devilish spark in his eyes.

‘You know, as much as I enjoyed myself in there, I am still not sure your apology was enough for me. So, I decided we should have part two of it tonight… You owe me that much for drooling over Tengen.’

He grinned and continued:

‘I would recommend that you prep yourself … back there. I have plans for you.’

He smirked with the most innocent of looks in his eyes.

‘You may want to doll yourself up too, wear something sexy, the less the better if you know what I mean.’

You lifted your eyebrows but felt too relaxed to protest or discuss.

‘Ok, Kyo. What time are we going, though? I have stuff to do?’

‘Seven o’clock. We can go out and eat beforehand and that will give you plenty of time for whatever you need to do and … for the prep’

He grinned.

The afternoon went by quickly and soon you were done with your dinner and in a cab on the way to the mysterious destination aka part two of your apology to your husband.

The taxi came to a halt and you noted that it arrived at a back alley in the middle of town. After paying the cab driver and watching the taxi slowly roll away through the alleyway, Kyo walked you up to a heavy metal gate and punched in a code. The gate opened surprisingly smoothly and inside was a modern and well-lit staircase. You walked up in silence and very soon you arrived at your destination. There was only one door at the top of the short stairway and you could hear loud heavy metal music blasting from inside whatever was behind the door. A club? Very well hidden in that case. Kyo rang the bell and a moment later Sanemi appeared at the opening door.

‘Hi bro. You made it’ he said with a nod.

‘Oh, hi there, y/n’

He looked you up and down hungrily.

‘I like your outfit’

His directness was always a bit much for you, but yes, your outfit would be to his liking since you obeyed your husband’s strict directions about less being more.

He let you both in and went over to turn down the aggressive music.

His apartment surprised you, as it was very neat and stylish. You honestly did not know what you expected out of Sanemi’s lair, but most likely not for it to be this tidy. It was a large, open-plan space with bare brick walls disclosing the industrial heritage of the building. At the very back you could make out an industrial-style kitchen with black and stainless-steel furnishings and expensive appliances. There was a gigantic sound system on one side of the room, along with a large TV and an array of gaming consoles. All walls were covered with band posters and guitars and in the middle of the room stood a huge, minimalistic, black leather sofa, with a few faux fur blankets casually thrown to soften the otherwise angular form of the furniture. It looked expensive, like something out of a high-end Scandi catalogue.

Sanemi left the music on a low volume and you had to admit that the heavy-sounding melodies played by low-tuned guitars, blasting drums, and pumping base with a deep, raspy singing on top, were putting you in a bit of a trans. It was very masculine and surprisingly arousing.

Kyo lounged himself on the sofa and you sat down next to him. Sanemi came back with the drinks, handed them over, and sat down next to you, a little too close for comfort. He was looking straight at you, running his gaze up and down your face and chest.

While eyeing you off, he addressed Kyojuro

‘So, does y/n know why you guys are here?’

‘No, not yet, but she is sure to find out soon.’

He fired off the sweetest of smiles and you felt wetness start to pool between your legs as you realised what they were up to.

‘You are, aren’t you, babe?’

He lowered his voice as he leaned down to kiss the side of your neck. Sanemi wasn’t keeping you waiting either, as he put his hand on your thigh, moving it slowly up your leg with a vicious smirk, all the while not taking his gaze from yours. He swallowed, thin nostrils flaring and eyes gleaming with lust

‘You see, I would like to try and do what we didn’t have a chance to enjoy last night. Kyo ensured me you would be well prepped this time.’

Now it was your turn to swallow. You and Kyo were no strangers to anything that had to do with sex, but having Sanemi fuck you back there felt a bit intimidating. He was, after all quite rough. Not that this behaviour was now not spreading onto your otherwise so gentle and overbearing husband… But still…

You were left with no time to ponder as Kyo moved his hands to your breasts, cupping them and massaging them with just the right amount of pressure to make you wet between your legs, where Sanemi’s hand was already working on your clothed pussy. Your juices were leaking uncontrollably, soon causing the fabric of your panties to be completely soaked.

‘These are useless now’

the silver-blond man chuckled yanking on your g-string and pulling them down off you and around your high-heeled boots.

‘Sexy shoes’

he smirked while stroking the supple leather of your tight, black knee-high boots. His hand and attention once again moving back to your pussy. With one swift push, he snaked his fingers between your folds, scissoring them open and starting rubbing vigorously between your labia, all the while your gorgeous blond husband was kissing you and massaging your tits, while bucking his clothed dick into the fat of your ass.

Sanemi pressed two fingers into your wet pussy and started pumping fast.

‘Common, babe, moan for me.’

You were already moaning, but the obedient girl that you were you increased your volume and intensity, an easy feat since your arousal was hitting new peaks. That is when Kyojuro started to remove your skimpy top and Sanemi was sliding your mini skirt off you. Kyo unclipped your bra and you were now completely naked, wearing only your sexy leather boots.

‘Now, this is a really good look for you, sweetheart’

Sanemi leaned back, admiring you, but talking in such a condescending tone that was slowly hitting all the submissive spots in your brain.

‘What do you want me to do?’

You asked in a sweet tone, first looking at Sanemi and then turning your head in question to your husband.

‘I think I will take her pussy first and you can give her your dick to suck on.’

‘With pleasure’ the silver-haired man chuckled.

They both started to remove their clothes and you could do nothing but get even hornier at the sight you were presented with. Effortlessly flexing muscles, perfect abs, and toned chests, and then the dicks. Both were huge, Sanemi slightly longer and completely straight as compared to Kyojuros shorter with a slight upward curve. The girths were about the same, but Sanemi’s cock was veinier and somehow looked rougher than Kyo’s.

Kyojuro pulled you to him, positioning you on all four so that your mouth was just above the now sitting-down Sanemi, whose legs were widespread and he was presenting you his manhood in a leisurely and shameless manner.

‘Common, sweetheart. Suck it for me, will ya?’

He whispered stroking your cheek. Immediately, you did as you were told, sinking your mouth onto his long cock. Your delicate tongue licking up his veiny underside and teasing his sensitive tip. Sanemi groaned in pleasure tilting his head back and holding you by the back of your neck. In the meantime, Kyoujuro lifted your ass up and positioned his hard tip at your entrance, sliding himself into you, stretching you out in a delicious manner. By now, you loved the feeling of more than one man fucking you. There was something so primal about it. A complete and utter submission, and yet it was empowering, knowing you were able to give pleasure to two or more men at the same time.

You were sucking Sanemi at the rhythm set by Kyoujuro, every thrust sending you forward to swallow his dick down your tight throat. Your moaning on his dick was sending vibrations through the sensitive organ making him grit his teeth and grab your neck tighter, choking you lightly. The pace of your husband’s dick slamming into your walls was getting faster now, with your walls clenching in desperation for a release, you realised he must be very close now. The same went for Sanemi since your mouth was working him faster and deeper due to Kyo’s increased pace.

In the meantime, your puffy cunt could not take anymore and you climaxed, shaking uncontrollably due to the overstimulation as Kyo simply kept on pumping into you, chasing his own release. They kept on going like this for a while until you noticed Sanemi look up toward Kyo and lift his eyebrows while making a jacking-off gesture and pointing to your mouth. You could feel Kyo pull out of you and at the same time Sanemi loosened the grip on your neck letting you pull away.

‘Sit down, precious doll’

Kyo commanded with a honey-dripping voice, while pumping his dick.

‘We want you to show us how hungry you are’

He gave you the sweetest smile and moved closer to you, Sanemi replicating the same motion on your other side. Both men were now kneeling on the sofa next to either side of you, pumping their large dicks next to your mouth.

‘Open up, kitten’

You opened your mouth and stretched out your greedy little tongue.

Kyo was the first one to come, spraying thick ropes of cum into your mouth and onto your tongue, some landing on your face, Sanemi followed suit a few seconds later and you swallowed just as eagerly, lapping up every drop you could reach from around your mouth and lips.

‘That’s a good girl. Taking us so nicely. You like the taste of cum, don’t ya?’

Sanemi took over the slightly demeaning praise, his voice cooing mockingly.

‘Such a pretty face, even prettier painted with cum. Clean us up now, will you?’

And you slowly went down to lick their cocks clean, the taste of your combined juices making you delirious. As you were working away, you could feel their cocks twitching, rebounding for another round.

‘I think I would like to have a go with that tight little ass of hers’

Sanemi said and Kyo nodded.

‘Get some lube and get going then’

Kyo instructed, leaving you in shock at how careless he was getting with you.

Sanemi got up and walked to the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of oil and three beers.

‘Hey, have a drink while I work her up to it.’

He was now kneeling behind you, spreading the fat of your ass with his large, rough hands. Kyo was drinking while giving your nipple a squeeze, making you moan into your drink. Sanemi poured some oil on your lower back, letting it run in between your ass cheeks, and with skilled fingers started caressing your puckering hole.

‘So fucking tight. So pretty. God, this makes me so damn horny.’

He kept on massaging you, while Kyo moved his hand down between your legs to rub your little hard bud getting a throaty moan from your swollen lips as a reaction. He kept on alternating between rubbing circles around it and giving it an occasional rub, while Sanemi was working you up finger by finger, until he was sure you could accommodate his large cock there back.

‘Ok Kyo, I am ready to go. This will be tight.’

Kyo understood the gist and kneeling in front of you, pushed himself into your pussy, staying there motionless to allow Sanemi to get into position. You could feel Sanemis’s cock at the entrance to your ass. You were breathing heavily.

’Try to relax for me, kitten. This will hurt a little, but then it is pure bliss from there. Trust me’

He started moving and the pressure of his cock was slowly prying your muscle open, inch by inch, painful at first, but then the sensation became something absolutely perfect, a visceral pleasure, a pressure screaming for release.

‘Fuck, you are so tight’ Sanemi was groaning through gritted teeth as he kept pushing in. ‘Fuuuck!’

When he bottomed out, you felt the fullest you ever felt in your life. You were slowly drifting off, drool pooling in your mouth and eyes rolling back in your head. This was almost too much.

’I can’t, this is… this is…I am ….so full...’ you were moaning almost incomprehensively.

‘It’s ok, doll’ Kyo whispered.

‘You can do it’

And with that, both men started moving, two large cocks slamming in and out of you, almost in rhythm with the bass pumping in the background. The squelching of your pussy and the skin-slapping noises were adding to the atmosphere. You were almost in a trance now, losing all control of yourself. Being filled with two dicks like this was making you feel more than you thought was possible. You were filled and stretched to the limit, making you almost dumb with arousal.

You didn’t even understand what spots their dicks were hitting, but the hardness inside your plush walls was making you give in to your extasy little by little. A few thrusts later and you were coming down in another orgasm. Completely fucked out and dumb from all the pleasure, you were now just barely holding up, supported by both men’s strong shoulders.

‘Fuck, you are tight y/n. I am not gonna last much longer’

Sanemi almost whimpered. His thrusts were now slower than Kyoujuro’s, in a futile attempt to delay his orgasm, but your tight muscle was too much for him and soon enough he filled your ass with his cum

‘Fuuuuuuuuck!’ He growled out while climaxing.

As he carefully pulled out, Kyoujuro did the same and pushed you down and crawled on top of you. His weight was almost crushing you as he was rutting into you like crazy, grabbing your breast with one hand and stroking your cheek with the other.

‘I will fill you up again, ok? Would you like that?’

You nodded in reply as he kept on going, crazy as he was with the desire to release himself. He was going like this for quite a while, pumping harder and faster, you both moaning and breathing heavily. Finally, you could feel his abs contract and he filled you up with his warm seed.

The three of you were now lying flat on the sofa, slowly steadying your breathing. You were all in a lull, being completely spent from nearly two hours of intense fucking. The heavy music was now soothing you and you gently tapped Sanemi on the shoulder.

‘Hey, can you raise the volume and get us some beer?’

‘Sure y/n. Glad you like the music. But holy fuck… this was good’ Sanemi chuckled as he picked up the remote to raise the volume.

Banners by @adornedwithlight @cafekitsune

Tagging: @horror4themasses @muzansfangs

[fa1ry03]

Birthday Wishes

Author’s Note: Thanks so much for all the support on my first piece!!! This is my second, and I’m so excited to share it with you guys! Since Joe's Birthday is coming up, I decided to write a short piece. I hope y'all enjoy this celebration of Joe’s bday. Happy Birthday Joe! 💙🎉

Blurb about the piece: Celebrate Joe Burrow’s birthday with a day full of love, surprises, and passion. From a heartfelt breakfast in bed to a surprise party with friends, every moment is crafted to make him feel special. As the night winds down, tender gestures blend sweetness and spice for an unforgettable celebration.

(not proofread)

word count: 764

The first rays of sunlight streamed into the cozy Cincinnati home Joe Burrow shared with his partner, casting a warm glow across the room. Outside, the December chill hung in the air, but inside, the atmosphere was cozy and festive. Today wasn’t just any day—it was Joe's birthday.

You had been planning this day for weeks. Joe, humble as ever, insisted he didn’t need anything extravagant, but you knew better. A man like him, who poured his heart and soul into everything, deserved a day as special as he was.

You tiptoed into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise and wake him. The plan was simple but heartfelt: start the day with a breakfast he’d love, give him a special message, and let the surprises unfold one by one.

The scent of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee soon filled the air. Alongside the bacon, you prepared his favorite fluffy scrambled eggs, buttery toast, and a side of fresh fruit. For an extra touch, you made blueberry pancakes, his guilty pleasure.

Once everything was plated, you quietly carried the tray into the bedroom. Joe was still asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. You smiled, setting the tray on the bedside table.

“Joe,” you said softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Happy birthday, sleepyhead.”

He stirred, blinking awake. As soon as he saw you and the tray, a sleepy smile spread across his face.

“Morning,” he said, his voice still raspy from sleep. “What’s all this?”

“It’s your birthday breakfast,” you said, sitting beside him. “Eat up—we’ve got a whole day ahead.”

Joe sat up, leaning against the headboard, and dug into the food. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he said between bites.

“Uh actually, I did. You only turn 28 once,” you teased, handing him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

After breakfast, you handed him a small envelope. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and opened it. Inside was a handwritten letter, carefully crafted to capture your admiration for him.

“Joe,” it began, “you are not only an incredible athlete but also the most kind-hearted and determined person I know. Watching you chase your dreams inspires me every day. You deserve all the success and happiness in the world, and I’m so lucky to celebrate this special day with you…”

He looked up at you, his eyes soft. “This means so much to me,” he said. “Thank you.”

“There’s more to come,” you said with a wink.

The day continued with a leisurely pace. Joe, ever the competitor, suggested playing a round of Madden on the PS5. Despite your best efforts, he won every game, laughing at your frustrated groans.

By midday, you nudged him toward the door. “Time for part two of your birthday adventure,” you said.

Joe frowned playfully. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you said, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

The two of you hopped into the car, and you drove to one of Joe’s favorite spots—a quiet hiking trail just outside the city. Hiking was one of his ways to unwind, and you knew he’d appreciate the chance to escape the chaos of the season.

As you walked hand in hand along the trail, you marveled at the serene beauty of the woods. The crisp winter air, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the occasional call of birds made for a perfect backdrop.

“You really thought of everything today,” Joe said, pulling you close.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” you replied with a grin.

By the time you returned home, Joe seemed content and relaxed. But the day was far from over.

“Go shower and change into something nice,” you said.

“Why? What’s going on?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s a surprise,” you said, refusing to elaborate.

Joe, curious but cooperative, disappeared into the bathroom. Meanwhile, you got to work setting up the final act of the day—a surprise party with all his closest friends and teammates.

The living room was already decorated with banners, balloons, and a massive “Happy Birthday Joe” sign. You’d spent hours coordinating with his friends, ensuring everyone could be there. The catering had just arrived, featuring Joe’s favorite dishes, including a giant Cajun-style crawfish boil as a nod to his Louisiana roots.

By the time Joe emerged, looking sharp in a casual blazer and jeans, the house was dark and silent.

“What’s going on?” he asked, confused.

“Just trust me,” you said, guiding him to the living room.

As soon as you opened the door, the lights flicked on, and a chorus of voices shouted, “Surprise!”

Joe froze, his mouth falling open. The room was packed with familiar faces—his teammates, coaches, and even a few close friends from high school and college.

“You did this?” he asked, turning to you with wide eyes.

“I had a little help,” you admitted.

The night was everything you’d hoped for and more. There was laughter, music, and endless storytelling. Joe’s teammates shared hilarious anecdotes from the locker room, and his family reminisced about his childhood.

The highlight of the evening was the cake—a massive football-shaped creation adorned with the Bengals’ colors and Joe’s jersey number, 9. Everyone gathered around as you lit the candles and led the group in singing “Happy Birthday.”

Joe blew out the candles, his face lit up with gratitude.

“Speech! Speech!” someone called out.

Joe laughed, raising his glass. “I don’t even know where to start,” he said. “To everyone here, thank you. I’m so lucky to have such amazing people in my life. And to you,” he said, looking at you, “thank you for making this the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

As the night wound down and the guests started to leave, Joe pulled you aside.

“Today was perfect,” he said. “You made me feel so loved.”

“You are loved,” you said, leaning in to kiss him.

As you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realized that while Joe’s accomplishments on the field were incredible, it was moments like this that truly defined him. He was more than just a football star—he was someone who inspired everyone around him to be better.

And on this special day, you were grateful to celebrate the man he was, both on and off the field.

-Time Skip-

By the time you guys returned home, the party had been a roaring success, and you’d successfully pulled off every surprise. But now, the house was quiet, the guests gone, and the festive decorations shimmering under soft, dimmed lights.

Joe found you in the living room, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. You had changed into something more alluring—a fitted black lingerie that hugged every curve.

“Looks like the birthday boy survived the surprises,” you teased as he approached, his gaze sweeping over you appreciatively.

“Barely,” he said, sitting beside you and taking your hand. “But I’ve got to say—you outdid yourself.”

“You deserve it,” you said softly, leaning in closer.

Joe’s eyes darkened slightly as his free hand brushed along your thigh. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Maybe I’m the lucky one,” you murmured, your voice low.

The playful energy between you shifted as the air grew heavier with tension. His hand lingered on your leg, tracing slow, deliberate circles.

“You’re not done spoiling me yet, are you?” he asked, his voice dropping into a husky tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

“That depends,” you said, your lips curving into a coy smile. “How much more does the birthday boy want?”

Joe didn’t answer with words. Instead, he closed the space between you, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. The feel of his strong hands makes its way to your bottom. Combined with the heat radiating off him, sent your heart racing.

“You’ve been teasing me all day,” he murmured against your lips. “It’s my turn now.”

His words were a promise, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, the anticipation of the night ahead filling you with a delicious thrill.

As the fire crackled in the background and the world outside faded away, you realized this was the perfect way to end his special day—wrapped up in each other, with nothing but the quiet hum of desire and the promise of more.

Thanks for reading! Send in request plss <3

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Wicked

pairing: drew starkey x f! girlfriend reader

The sunlight streamed through the windows of the apartment Drew shared with Y/N. It was a rare day off for him, and he’d just gotten back from the gym, sweaty and ready to take a shower, when he heard her voice echoing through the hall. The sound froze him in his tracks.

“Something has changed within me, something is not the same…”

Her voice, powerful and unwavering, carried through the apartment, accompanied by the distant clatter of dishes and the hum of the vacuum. He followed the sound, his curiosity piqued, until he peeked around the corner to find her in one of his old T-shirts, her hair in a messy bun, completely lost in the song.

“I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game!”

Y/N belted the lyrics to “Defying Gravity,” a kitchen rag in one hand as she swept across the living room, cleaning as though it were a Broadway stage. Drew leaned against the doorframe, smirking as he watched her. Her passion, her confidence, the way she poured her heart into every note God, he loved her.

When she reached the final, soaring note, he clapped loudly, startling her. She whipped around, wide-eyed, her cheeks flushing pink.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, flustered but grinning.

“Long enough to know you’re definitely getting that part,” he teased, walking toward her.

“Drew! don’t jinx it!” she scolded, though her smile remained. She had auditioned for the role of Elphaba weeks ago, and it was all she could think about.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m serious, baby. You’ve got it. No one could sing like that and not get the part.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile as she buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled. “I really hope you’re right.”

When they got home, the celebration continued in a much more private way.

The call came two days later.

Y/N was pacing the living room, her phone pressed tightly to her ear as Drew sat on the couch, trying to decipher her expressions. Then, her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.

“Wait, really? I got it? I thank you! Oh my God, thank you!”

She hung up the phone and stared at drew, her hands trembling.

“Well?” he prompted, though he already knew the answer from her reaction.

“I GOT THE PART!” she screamed, jumping up and down. “I’m going to be Elphaba! And and Ariana Grande is playing Glinda!”

Drew barely had time to react before she leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as she buried her face in his neck. He spun her around, laughing at her joy.

“I told you, didn’t I? I knew it!” he said, holding her close.

They celebrated that night with a fancy dinner at her favorite restaurant, toasting to her success. She couldn’t stop smiling, her excitement radiating off her in waves. Drew had never been prouder.

Drew kissed her deeply as soon as they stepped into the bedroom, his hands sliding down her back to grip her thighs. “You have no idea how proud I am of you,” he murmured against her lips.

Her breath hitched as he pushed her toward the full-length mirror in their bedroom. “You’re incredible, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

He guided her hands to the mirror as he stood behind her, pressing kisses along her neck. Slowly, he undressed her, leaving her bare in front of the reflection. His hands roamed her body, his touch igniting her skin as he whispered praises in her ear.

When he entered her from behind, her moan echoed through the room, her eyes locking with his in the mirror. Watching herself come undone in his arms, seeing the intensity in his gaze as he moved inside her, made the moment even more electrifying.

“You’re perfect,” Drew rasped, his voice thick with desire. “So beautiful, so talented, and all mine.”

Y/N clung to the edge of the mirror for support, her body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her. Drew didn’t let up until she was completely spent, her forehead resting against the cool glass as she caught her breath.

Afterward, he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her forehead tenderly. “You’re going to be the best Elphaba the worlds ever seen,” he said, his voice full of love and certainty.

And as Y/N drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but think she was the luckiest woman in the world to have her dream role and a man who believed in her every step of the way.

The night of the premiere was electric. The theater buzzed with excitement as celebrities, critics, and fans filled the seats, eager to witness the debut of the highly anticipated production. Drew sat in the front row, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked up at the grand stage. His girlfriend, his Y/N was about to take the stage as Elphaba, performing alongside Ariana Grande as Glinda.

He couldn’t believe how far she had come. From belting out show tunes while cleaning their apartment to landing the role of a lifetime, Y/N had poured every ounce of her heart and soul into this moment. And now, here she was.

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the audience. The music swelled, and Drew’s breath hitched as Y/N stepped onto the stage, painted green, dressed in Elphaba’s iconic black dress and hat. She radiated confidence, her voice commanding the room as she began to sing.

By the time the show reached its climax Defying Gravity, Drew was gripping the armrests of his chair. The stage was bathed in light, and Y/N and Ariana stood side by side, their voices weaving together in perfect harmony.

“So if you care to find me, look to the western sky…” Y/N sang, her voice soaring.

The audience was captivated, but Drew’s focus was solely on her. Her voice was breathtaking, full of raw emotion and power. As the song built to its crescendo, Y/N stepped forward for her solo moment, the orchestra quieting as the spotlight focused solely on her.

For a brief second, Drew could see her nerves flicker. This was her first time singing live in front of such a massive audience. But then, her gaze found his.

He mouthed the words, I love you.

Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small, confident smile tugging at her lips. Taking a deep breath, she launched into the final, soaring note of the song.

“And nobody in all of Oz, no wizard that there is or was, is ever gonna bring me down!”

Her voice filled the theater, resonating with a strength that left the audience spellbound. Drew felt tears streaming down his cheeks as the final note lingered in the air, followed by a beat of stunned silence. Then, the entire theater erupted in applause, a standing ovation sweeping through the room.

Drew stood too, clapping so hard his hands hurt, tears blurring his vision as he watched Y/N bask in the moment. She glanced at him from the stage, her eyes shimmering with joy, and mouthed back, I love you.

As the curtain fell, Drew knew this moment would be etched in his heart forever. She had done it. She had defied every odd, every doubt, and soared to unimaginable heights.

That night, as they celebrated together, Drew held her close and whispered, “You were born for this.” And she believed it, because with Drew’s unwavering love and support, she truly felt unstoppable.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #3

3. Sixty-nine // Public Sex // Pet Play (Logan Howlett x Reader, continuation of this)

The chance of being caught is non-zero and that is thrilling to you. Holed up in your little bookshop the most exciting thing that ever happens is occasionally you get a mixed-up delivery for the pizza place next door, and you have to sheepishly trade piles of unfolded cardboard boxes for half a dozen copies of the complete works of Shakespeare. 

Wait—scratch that. The most exciting thing that ever happened was Logan. 

Your ears are peeled for the sound of the bell going at the shop door, your heart racing because when you went to lock it Logan swooped you into a passionate kiss instead. When he spirited you away to the back shelves you were powerless to stop him, your libido taking the controls of your brain and hammering the button which said let’s do this. Not that you were complaining of course. You think that the man could fuck you on the desk and you’d smile at passersby.

“Logan…” you sigh as he kisses along your neck, undoing the buttons on your shirt so he can get better access to the hot, soft skin beneath. 

“I know, baby, I know. I’ll take care of you…” his voice is a rumble against your pulse, a counter-rhythm to its wild beat. You let him manoeuvre you out of your jeans so he can press his fingers between your legs and feel how ready for him you are, his bulge thick and heavy as he grinds it against you.

“You feel what you do to me?” he hums. Yes. Yes you do and you love it. Shelving and mismatched book spines dig into your back as he holds you up so he can slide inside you, but you take the momentary discomfort so that you can nestle in this little slice of heaven. You moan as you feel yourself fill with him; it really is the most delicious stretch you could possibly ever hope for.

He fucks you in earnest then and you have to grab onto the bookcase for support wherever you can so you’re not carried away by the motion of his thrusts. Pleasure builds inside of you as your hands scramble…

A paperback topples off the top shelf and hits Logan in the head. He stops, utterly stunned, and the two of you glance down to see the culprit: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. 

You burst out laughing at the utter bemusement on his face, head tipping forward to rest against his shoulder.

“Hello, ground…” you manage to quote between peals of giggles. It takes a moment, but there’s no mistaking the rumble of a chuckle you draw from him.

“You’re ridiculous…” he says fondly, as he starts to rock his hips against, cock kissing that sweet spot inside your needy walls. You gasp.

“Yeah, and you like me.”

“I do.”

taglist: @eupheme @stupid-little-birdie @notsosirius111 @mynamesstevenwithav @salted-snailz @zayn-210 @coocoocachewgotscrewed @macaronsnpasta @belilwen @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @wereallbrokenangels @rogueinmymind

[loveandmurders]

Hello🖤

If you're accepting requests i may have a fun idea. I've had this scenario in my head for a while but dont have the writing skills for it.

So basically billy, stu and reader (all three were ghostface) escaped from the police and while on the run (let's ignore geography for this) they come across a kind (but a bit strange) man who carries roadkill on the back of his truck and he kindly gives them a ride to the nearest town - Ambrose. Slasher shenanigans ensue

The reader can be gn, the gender doesnt really matter. You can choose if you want to write a blurb, headcannon and stuff

Im sorry if this too much to ask and you can tottaly ignore this

Hello, love sorry it took me so long to get to your request, but here you are! Hope you'll enjoy <3

SOME INTERESTING HOLIDAYS (Ghostface x GN!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of sexual activities, of blood and violence

-You hadn’t thought things would go so out of hand. But now the more you thought about it, the more obvious it was that your plan wasn’t a flawless one… you actually forgot the essential (like in most horror movies): a good ending - especially for the killers.

-You killed everyone - no final girl for once.

-And your two lovers would have enjoyed playing with you in the blood of their victims and glory of the victory, but you quickly realised you had to leave before the cops could find you.

-So here you were, with your two lovers - Billy and Stu - running away as far as possible and as quick as possible from Woodsboro.

-Billy was a little bit annoyed he was forced to leave the city. He hadn’t really thought of the consequences of all of this, and maybe it was also why he was feeling so upset. He was supposed to be a mastermind.

-Stu was laughing, he was so proud of what happened and adrenaline was still pumping into his veins. His hands were happily roaming your body as Billy was driving.

-As long as your boys were safe, you were happy too. You kissed Stu with fierce passion until you heard Billy groan.

-You sent him a little look, quite curious about why he was so grumpy now. “Don’t distract me” Billy finally said and both Stu and yourself started to laugh and to tease him.

-Your life was a dangerous one and you didn’t even know what you were going to do with yourself now, but as long as you were all together, you didn’t really care.

-The three of you drove for days and weeks; you were starting to get bored actually, and there was no plan on when to stop or even where. Until you saw some advertisements for a “House of Wax”.

-Billy didn’t want to stop for this but you whined so much - and Stu supported you - so he finally gave in. He rolled his eyes and reminded the two of you you were children.

-It was then you met a truck on the other side of the road. The driver stopped at your level and lowered down his window “All good?” he asked you in a very heavy southern accent. You peered into the truck and could see roadkills, but the man looked sweet.

-You knew you all looked innocent as well though; so you knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

-Billy explained to the man that you were on holiday and you wanted to visit the House of Wax since you saw the advertisements. He also asked if there was a motel nearby. 

-The man - Lester - said there was no motel near the House of Wax, that you would need to go into another town for that. However, the museum was a really interesting place. It appeared that his late mother and brother were taking care of it.

-You all politely thanked Lester and agreed to follow behind his truck to not get lost on the roads. The man was nice but you all felt something was… amiss.

-When you arrived in Ambrose, you all exchanged a look.

-“If that’s not a killer on the run dream…” Billy muttered as he looked around “No one could find us here” he continued.

-“But there is no motel around either.” you hummed “And it really looks… deserted. I didn’t even see Ambrose on the plans when we looked at the last gas station.” you added “How could people still live here?”

-“Well you'll quickly know it, because we’ll try to stay here, at least for a little while. No one can find us.” Billy replied and you pouted.

-“We’ll get bored here” you whined but the boys gave you a look full of promise; how could you get bored when they were around?

-You all got out of the car and thanked Lester again. He also introduced you to his big brother, Bo.

-Bo instantly watched you all with great interest. You were young, you were hot and he was certain you would all look amazing in the House of Wax.

-No need to say that the twins were very surprised about how good you were when they tried to kill you, and that you were now the ones trying to kill them. With Lester, you were clearly on equal strength.

-You had discovered that the town was empty apart from the Sinclairs and the wax statues and you started to understand that it was like a massive deadly trap. But you were good with your knives and you actually were crazy enough to enjoy it. It was like a workout for the three of you.

-At some point, you managed to jump on Vincent and to put a knife under his chin. Bo aimed at you, Billy aimed at Bo with a gun he found and Stu blocked Lester from coming closer.

-“Alright, alright, how ‘bout we talk ‘bout this?” Bo finally offered. He noticed that Vincent didn’t try to get away from you, so it meant his twin could tell you would slice his throat open if he tried anything.

-“You’re the ones who attacked us” Billy argued back.

-“Is it like a playground for killers?” you hummed and Stu smirked.

-“Who the fuck are ya?” Lester frowned.

-“Who we are doesn’t matter, what matters is that we are killers. Just like you. But right now, Y/N is the best of us and they are going to kill your brother if you don’t let us go” Billy replied and you looked up at Bo with a dark smile, drawing a little bit of blood from Vincent.

-Bo instantly lowered his gun, put it on the ground and Lester moved away a little as well. They both put their hands up. You exchanged a look with Billy and Stu before moving from Vincent. You were all facing each other now, wondering what to do next.

-The Sinclairs had never met people like them, especially not people so brutal, so smart and so dangerous than you all. They felt curiosity, even more when Billy wrapped an arm around your waist and you moved your head on Stu’s shoulder. You looked like the lovers of Death. So young and so good looking, and yet so deadly.

-“Ya’re on the run” Bo hummed “And ya were lookin’ for somewhere to stay” he guessed. Vincent signed something to his brothers. Lester didn’t seem too happy about it and Bo thought his twin was losing it.

-“What did he say?” you asked with an arched eyebrow. No one answered you and it annoyed the boys “They asked you a question” Billy growled.

-“Vincent’s invitin’ ya over… he’s really interested in ya’ll” Bo finally replied.

-You were always the one enjoying playing with fire the more so you quickly moved closer and shook hands with Vincent.

-“I’d like that. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you, I guess” you smirked.

-Vincent and you got along pretty instantly, even though you didn’t know ASL. He wrote to you so you could communicate. Your shared love for knives helped a lot as a discussion starter. And then, your love to sneak around and kill people. And then, your love for every kind of art. You wanted to hide in Ambrose now and Vincent was more than eager to welcome you here. It would be nice to have people around who were understanding his way of life. And there were so many houses that could be your new home, at least for as long as you needed to hide away.

-Bo and Billy weren’t too happy about it, because it wasn’t part of the plan, because they couldn’t trust anyone, because they would need to be even more careful than usual so their favourite people wouldn’t get hurt.

-Stu was happy if you were happy, even if he was a little bit jealous of the attention you were giving to Vincent, at first. So he joined the two of you in your conversation, and he actually started to have fun as well. Lester noticed how Vincent seemed to be relaxed and it warmed his heart. It never happened before that his brother was so at ease around strangers.

-You all ate together in Sinclair's house. Bo stayed quite silent, observing you all, just like Billy. At some point, he asked: “So what, ya ain’t surprised my brother’s wearin’ a mask?” he asked. He just wanted for you to say something that would upset Vincent so they would kill you all in your sleep.

-But the three of you just shrugged “You’re kidding, masks are super cool. We’ll show you ours tomorrow” you smiled and the boys nodded “What’s a killer without a mask anyway?” Billy agreed “It’s classic horror” he added “Yeah so lame of you, Bo, to not wear any mask, by the way. You could have been the masked twins, ugh such a missed opportunity” Stu continued.

-Lester started to laugh and he thought he quite liked you all. You were some fresh air in Ambrose, fun and crazy. He knew it was the beginning of a new era for his family.

-Bo was bewildered but he guessed you weren’t so bad then. You had been polite with Lester and you weren’t judging his twin, so you could stay. Maybe he would even learn to love you.

-Vincent was eager to keep you all in Ambrose, forever. Maybe you could even help the Sinclairs build the future. You were going to be part of the family, he could feel it because you were different from usual people.

-You were monsters, too.

[crayooongle]

Attention (1.5k)

harddom! Kenma kozume x brattysub!(f)reader

cw: unprotected sex, (f)receiving, face riding, bondage, oral, cum eating, overstimulation, use of a vibrator

pet names: brat

notes: this was a gift for a friend but i hope you guys like it!!

summary: 

Your boyfriend was way too busy for your liking so, you obviously gotta help him clear up his schedule and put some time towards you.

You aren’t usually very bothered by your boyfriend’s busy schedule. You’re typically understanding when it comes to his job but recently, it felt like he’s just been neglecting you. He had said he was trying to get practice in for an important Rocket League match coming up where the winner would be getting a large sum of money. You were obviously excited for him and wanted to be as supportive as possible, being that this was something he was passionate about; but you need some attention too!! So, of course you’re gonna try and think of what you can do to get your boyfriend to put some time aside for you. 

 You make your way to Kenma’s gaming room and he’s up to the usual. This is the perfect time for you to carry out your plan.  You carefully open the door, not wanting to make too much noise, just in case he’s on a call with his friends. Unluckily for him, he was. You silently greet your boyfriend with a kiss on the head. He gave a faint smile in response before going straight back to focusing on his game and chatting with his friends. You take a peek at his monitor and see the match just started, giving you about 5 minutes to do what you intended. 

 You kneel down and crawl right under his desk, positioning yourself in between his legs. You can see confusion written all over his face. You slide your hands onto the waistband of his sweatbands. You look up at him as you slowly pull his sweatpants down just enough that you can pull his dick out. Kenma looks down at you to give a warning glance but you ignore him, whatever happens later is a future you problem.

 You make sure to maintain eye contact as you lick the tip of his cock. You continue to give him kitten licks and you can feel him tense up from your touch. You hear the shakiness in his voice as he speaks to his friends. You decide to take it a step further and take the full thing into your mouth, he immediately shivers and lets out a sigh before closing his mouth completely. You bob your head up and down, starting off slow before speeding up. 

 Kenma is biting down on his bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You can see his hands shaking while hes holding his controller. He manages to stay silent for the duration of the game, besides the occasional sighing and shakey breaths. You can tell he’s already getting close and you have a minute left to spare. 

 Right before the match was over, you got out from under his desk and stood up. You made sure to close the door to his room and made your way to the kitchen. 

 You lean over the wooden countertop with your phone in your hand, you knew he was gonna be walking into the kitchen any moment now. 

 Not a moment later, you felt his cold fingertips dig into your hips as he pressed his hard-on against your ass.

“The fuck was that for?” He asks pissed.

Still bent over, you look over your shoulder at him. 

“I dont know what you’re talking about,” you said nonchalantly before looking back to your phone.

 Just as youre about to move away, Kenma takes one hand and grabs a fist full of your hair to pull you back towards him. He uses his other hand to tighten his grip on your hip. 

“Oh really? Fuckin’ brat.” He hisses into your ear. 

 Kenma lets go of your hair and grabs your hands to pull them behind your back. 

“You wanna act up?- no problem. Guess i just gotta put you in your place.”

He then takes a belt out his pocket and uses it to tie your wrists together. 

 Kenma had such little time for your guys’ sex life that you almost forgotten how dominant he could actually be. He didn’t always have the energy to show this side of himself but it was nice whenever he did. Even if that meant your pussy would end up aching from him abusing it the whole night. 

 Kenma dragged you to your shared bedroom and took his sweatpants off, revealing his still hard dick. You watched as he sat down on a corner of the bed.

“Come put that dirty mouth to use,” He said in a demanding tone. 

“Make me,” you mutter out under your breath just loud enough that he heard. 

“Oh i will,” he said before leaning over a bit to yank you by the arm. 

 He pushed you onto the bed, he then removed your sweats and panties. Afterwards, he reached over to pull something out of the nightstand. It was a purple vibrator that you often used when Kenma was away. You saw Kenma turn it on to the lowest setting. He then flipped you over so your ass was up and facing him. He pushed the vibrator into your wet pussy and you let out a strained moan. He made sure to give your ass a nice smack which granted him a small yelp from you. 

 He hopped onto the bed and sat right in-front of you, you sat up a bit while still kneeling so you could see him better. 

“Now open that smart ass mouth.” Kenma practically spit out at you.

 You begrudgingly did as you were told, he immediately began face fucking you. He grabbed onto the back of your head to make sure you took all of him down your throat. You choked and gagged but Kenma couldn’t care less, he was too focused on his own pleasure. Despite the vibrator being on the lowest setting it was still getting you relatively close but you knew it wouldn’t be enough to make you finish. You sloppily moan on his dick, a mix of your saliva and his pre cum was dribbling down your chin. Your eyes were watering from him continuously hitting the back of your throat. All you could hear was his moans and occasionally hisses from your warm mouth on his dick.

 “You got nothing smart to say now?” He remarked in between shaken moans. 

“I bet you love choking on my dick. I- ahh- m’ gonna cum soon,” all you could do was hum onto his dick as a response.

Just as anticipated, he let out a faint whine and finished right down your throat. 

“You better swallow it all, i dont need you leaving a mess,” He said while still breathing heavily. 

 You look up at him after he finishes, like you’re expecting something. Which you were- you wanted to finish so badly it was killing you.

“What? You think you deserve to finish after what you did earlier?” Kenma cackles, “how about you beg for it then.” 

You give a look of defeat, just wanting to finish. You end suck up your pride and beg. 

“Please Kenma, Im sorry about earlier. I wanna cum so bad, please?” You whimper as you’re desperately grinding against the vibrator. 

 He looks down at you with low heavy eyes, you can tell he’s debating on what he’s gonna do with you. You can only hope he’ll grant you the sweet release you’ve been craving. 

“if you wanna finish, youre gonna have to do all the work,” Kenma says teasingly, with a smirk on his face as he removes the belt from your wrists. He then removed the  vibrator from your pussy and its coated with your juices. He sets it back on top of the nightstand to deal with later.

 Kenma lays down and motions for you to get on top of him. You position yourself right onto his face, you slowly lower your down and adjust yourself as needed. Once you’re comfortable, Kenma sticks his tongue out and you move against it; switching between bumping against his nose and sliding against his tongue. 

You became a whining mess from the overwhelming pleasure. You could feel your orgasm building up, you could finish at any moment. 

“Kenmaaa,” you moan his name like it’s the only thing you know. Your legs are shaking with desire, you’ve been waiting to finish like this for the longest.

“Fuckk- Kenma im gonna-“ Kenma cuts you off by lifting you up and flipping you over so he’s on top of you.

 Before you could react Kenma puts you into mating press and fucks you like there no tomorrow. You’re practically screaming out his name like a prayer as slides in and out of you with ease. 

“I thought you wanted attention, dont go on crying when im finally giving it to you, brat.” He grits in between his teeth, trying to hold back his moans.

 His mocking voice was just enough to send you over the edge, you let out strings of whines as you cum right on his dick. 

[haruchi-slit]

"ARE YOU MISTER RIGHT? ARE YOU THE LOVE OF MY LIFE?"

warnings: mdni + p in v + missionary + not proof read | synopsis: surprising kento with a lingerie :)

nanami is literally, literally the perfect man, he's literally what GUY.exe (song) is describing! 6ft tall? check, super strong? check, emotional stability? check, kind? check! financial security? check! nanami is literally the man of possibilities and most importantly he's someone who's literally so sweet and romantic, he never once missed to pick you up from your work, he is the type to carry your bags so you won't struggle to carry them around, nanami is the type of guy to not ket you suffer alone from loneliness but, most importantly he is someone passionate and rough in bed....he'd have you moaning and squirming in bed like crazy, with your hands pinned down close to your ears as he slowly snaps his hips to your cunt, he's so gentle and all, he's the type of guy to be rough but in the most gentle way possible...

and because your fiance is such husband material, you decided to surprise him by secretly ordering a lingrie online, to reward him on his endless love for you...

and it was the best choice you've ever made in your life.

"nana-ahhmi!" you'd roll his name out of your mouth as you feel his cock penetrate deep down in your pussy, as your nails burry themselves on nanami's back and shoulders, "h-honey" he huffs, his voice full of thirst and extremity as he pushes your thighs higher that it almost folded you in half, "sorry for -goodness-" he paused, as your gummy walls

spasmed around his throbbing cock, "ripping your lingerie," he continues, with his raspy voice tinted with a apologetic tone,

"'s no problem kento- ah!" your mind full of fervor and lewd thoughts as kento plunges his pudgy cock in and out of your gummy walls, your hands creeping on to his neck, while your eyes locked on to one another, while you admired his surreally handsome face with his prominent jawline, he was just so majestic, angelic, even.

his sweat rolls down to the crevices of his neck, as his hand inched to your forehead to swiftly swipe away your hair and sweat, "i-i know I've told you this so many times..." he struggles to form a sentence as his other hand supported your neck, "-but you're so gorgeous," he mused with a frail tone,

"i love you, so much my love" he adds, his hips instinctively twitching to you, "me too kento- ugh! i love you!" you blurted out as your hazy eyes focused on how his cock derange your insides, he so far deep in you that you could feel him, hitting your womb, as his cock bulged on your tummy, you could feel the familiar knot tighten in your abdomen as the waves of pleasure waved across your head to your shoulders then to the heels of your foot to your clit, "mmmffhh-ah!" you let out a breathy moan, as clenched and sucked kento's cock in your pussy, you spasmed around him, drenching his cock with your arousal, "are you, close?" you couldn't respond, you were completely blanked out, fucked dumb, your eyes rolling back in the deepest part of your skull, your toes squirming and quivering and your back arched, your whole body throbbed and pulsed as you soaked kento's member with your sappy cum slushing down on his thick cock, "kentoo, yesyesyes! gosh!" you screamed as kento throbed inside your cunt, he continues to thrust in you making your pussy spasm uncontrollably around his cock, making your pussy so tight,

"you're squeezing me so t-tight" he grunts his voice was raspy, so alluring that you just want to cum all over his cock again,

"so close, honey, I'm close" he moaned, as his arms pulled you close burying his cock much deeper in you, as he nuzzles on your neck, before shooting his luscious cream in your cunt, you both catched your breaths your bodies, was scorchingly hot because of the heated session, "i love you" he whispers, still nuzzling on your neck, making his voice vibrate against your body "i love you more" you murmur as you feel your mixed arousal drip down your pussy, your hand wandered on his back as your other hand supported your body, the two of stayed silent basking the after glow of the bliss the two of you shared.

a/n: gege is right nanami is the ONLY right choice...

[aventurineswife]

Stages of Shadows:

R O U N D 6

[Special thanks to Natto for graciously allowing me to use their incredible artworks. Please support their amazing work by following them on Instagram: @yattapan. Thank you, Natto (if you're reading this, lol), for once again allowing me to use your artworks with full credit given to you! I hope you enjoy this!]

The stage was dimly lit, the harsh spotlight casting long shadows across the stage. The crowd’s noise had faded into a low hum, like a distant storm that threatened to break at any moment. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, but Aventurine was numb to it all. His usual flamboyance, his mischievous grin, and the gleam in his eyes—those were gone. The man standing on the stage now was a shell of what he had been, his once vibrant persona buried under the weight of exhaustion and sorrow.

Aventurine stood center stage, his posture slumped, a stark contrast to the usual calculated, confident air he used to project. His hand gripped the microphone, but his fingers were tight around it, as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. He was clad in black clothing, an ensemble that matched the dark emptiness swirling inside him. His eyes, once sharp and calculating, were now hollow, distant, staring at nothing in particular.

‘Where are you, [Name]?’ He thought, the weight of their absence like a heavy stone pressing down on his chest. ‘Why did you have to leave me?’

The music began to swell, but it didn’t stir him the way it once did. His voice, when it finally came, was quiet at first—a murmur lost in the sea of noise. But as the lyrics flowed from his lips, they carried an emotional depth that seemed to shake even the hardened audience.

“Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don’t want to let you go”

Each note was a whisper of his heart’s agony. There was no passion, no fire behind the words anymore—just the emptiness of a man who had lost everything. The song was no longer a performance; it was a cry. His voice cracked once, but he pushed through, forcing the words out even though they felt like daggers scraping the inside of his throat.

The lights above him flickered, casting shifting shadows across the stage. But the audience—those cruel, apathetic spectators—didn’t care. They watched with eager, unblinking eyes, but Aventurine saw nothing but their hollow faces, staring like vultures at something already dead. He was dying inside. His soul was withering.

Aventurine’s voice faltered as the lyrics continued to pour out of him, desperate, raw, as though he was trying to will himself to feel something—anything.

“Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you”

His voice trembled on the final note, but he didn’t stop. Instead, it grew more intense, a plea laced with anguish, his throat raw from the pain of each word. The crowd’s cheers seemed distant, unimportant. As the words left his mouth, his mind spiraled, and everything around him began to blur.

The sounds of the audience faded, and Aventurine found himself no longer on the stage, but in a cold, sterile room—distant, isolating, suffocating. The memory hit him like a punch to the gut.

He was standing in front of a long table, a group of faceless figures dressed in dark suits sitting behind it. Their expressions were unreadable, but the weight of their gaze was heavy. They were the ###—the ones who had brought him into this sick game. They were the ones holding his life by a string, dictating the terms of his survival. The same ones who had made him promise everything—his soul, his loyalty—if he won.

Aventurine’s hands were shackled to the chair in front of him, his body tense, awaiting whatever came next. His heart raced as they pushed him, trying to force an answer from him about the deal—questions he didn’t have answers to. His mind was scattered, chaotic, filled with one burning question: Where is [Name]?

One of the figures slammed a file onto the table in front of him. It was a newspaper clipping, and at the top in bold letters, the word “ＭＩＳＳＩＮＧ” was stamped across [Name]’s profile. His heart dropped, and his stomach twisted into knots.

His pulse pounded In his ears as he stared at the image. There they were, the one person he had trusted, the only one who had shown him true kindness, now lost.

Aventurine’s vision blurred. He had no idea where they were. Had they died? Had they left him behind, abandoned him so easily after everything they had been through? The questions gnawed at him, but none of them brought any answers. Only emptiness.

‘Did I mean nothing to them?’

The words felt like chains, tighter with every thought, as though the walls around him were closing in, suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. His mind raced to try to piece together the puzzle, but the more he thought, the more frantic he became.

Suddenly, one of the figures—too close, too invasive—grabbed the back of his head, forcing him down toward the table. His face scraped the cold surface as the pressure of the hands on his hair grew.

Aventurine’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the newspaper clipping slide closer to his face. He couldn’t get away from it. He couldn’t escape the sight of [Name]’s profile—lost, missing, slipping through his fingers like sand.

The world felt too small. He felt too small.

A flash of white-hot fury ignited within him. His heart pounded in his chest like a drumbeat, loud and unyielding. His body moved before his mind could catch up, his fist crashing into the face of the man who had pushed him down. The force of the punch sent the person sprawling backward, momentarily stunned. The clatter of a chair hitting the ground rang in his ears, and the smell of blood filled the air.

The memory shattered, and Aventurine gasped, back on the stage, the spotlight burning his skin. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his pulse erratic, heart racing as if it would burst from his chest. His fist was still raised in the air, knuckles white, as if he had never stopped fighting.

“Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul”

Aventurine continued, his voice trembling with something more than just sorrow—rage, desperation, confusion, all woven together in the melody. His voice cracked again, the strain too much, but he pushed on, clinging to the song as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered to his fragile reality.

The audience was silent, watching, waiting for him to fall apart completely, but the man they saw on stage was not the same one who had entered. The flamboyant, carefree strategist was gone. In his place stood someone raw, exposed, and vulnerable—someone who had given too much and lost too much to ever smile again.

Aventurine continued singing, lost in the rhythm of the melody, completely unaware of the storm of emotions unfolding beside him. His voice rang out into the air, each note a desperate plea, but he was distant, trapped in his own thoughts, disconnected from everything around him.

The spotlight shifted, Ratio stepped onto the stage, his presence shifting the air like a cold breeze. He moved with deliberate grace, his white suit gleaming under the stage lights. It was almost too pristine, as if he were stepping into a wedding, an unspoken irony in the starkness of his attire amidst the chaotic tension of the contest. He grabbed the microphone, his fingers brushing it lightly as his gaze drifted toward Aventurine.

Aventurine stood motionless, the hollow look in his eyes betraying the storm within him. He appeared to have given up—like a man who had lost everything, as if the very air around him was a reminder of someone who was gone. His emotions were shut off, the vulnerability once so raw now replaced by an empty stillness.

Ratio took a deep breath before he began to sing, his voice smooth and controlled, though the weight of the lyrics cut through him like a blade. His eyes never left Aventurine, watching as the other man stood frozen in place, his thoughts clearly lost in the past, in someone who was no longer there.

“Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart”

The haunting melody filled the space, but Ratio couldn’t focus on the performance itself. His thoughts were elsewhere, taking him back to memories of the moments they had shared—moments that now seemed as distant as the stars.

The world of the contest, the games that had driven them all to the edge of madness, was one of cruelty and manipulation. But there were moments, fleeting and fragile, where there was kindness—moments where Ratio and Aventurine had found each other amidst the chaos.

Ratio remembered the time just before the show began, when they had shared a quiet conversation backstage. Aventurine had been quiet, more so than usual, as if the weight of the competition had finally broken him. Ratio had tried to reach out to him, to find some way to keep him grounded.

“Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I’ll drown in you”

But even then, Aventurine’s thoughts were clouded with something else—someone else. [Name]. The one who had stolen his heart, the one who had always been there to pull him from the edge when he faltered. Ratio could see it now, that deep ache in Aventurine’s eyes, the unspoken question that had plagued him since the moment they were torn apart.

It was the same unspoken question that Ratio had tried to answer himself when he had found a way out—an escape from this cursed contest. They had nearly made it, nearly freed themselves from the grip of the game, but at the last moment, Aventurine had faltered. He had chosen to leave Ratio behind in the pursuit of [Name], to go back to a place where he could never leave things undone, even if it meant abandoning his only ally.

Under the moonlight, near a secret passage where other contestants had found their way out, Ratio stood watching Aventurine. He could see the resolve in his eyes, but it was torn. He was a man caught between two impossible choices: the friend who had stood by him and the person he couldn’t leave behind, even if it meant his own freedom.

Aventurine had walked back, taking those last few steps toward the uncertainty of the contest, leaving Ratio standing there with a bittersweet smile, knowing that his friend would never truly be free until he could reunite with [Name]. The sting of that moment lingered, the taste of abandonment still fresh, even now.

“Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

In your gaze where I’m seen

Consume me

Yes, me, oh oh”

Ratio’s voice cracked slightly on the final line, a hint of emotion breaking through his otherwise controlled façade. He couldn’t help but feel the weight of their shared history, the sacrifices they had made for each other, and yet the unbearable truth that some wounds would never heal.

He had seen the toll this contest had taken on his friend, and he knew the battle wasn’t over yet. But in that moment, Ratio understood. Aventurine couldn’t leave [Name] behind, not now, not after everything they had been through together.

Aventurine continued singing, lost in the rhythm of the melody, completely unaware of the storm of emotions unfolding beside him. His voice rang out into the air, each note a desperate plea, but he was distant, trapped in his own thoughts, disconnected from everything around him.

“To this everlasting melody”

Meanwhile, Ratio’s voice blended with his, but his attention was no longer on the performance. His eyes drifted toward Aventurine, watching him with a depth of feeling that he couldn’t articulate. He saw his friend’s weariness, the faintest hints of defeat in his posture, and his heart ached for him.

“Face to face we dance”

But then, Ratio’s attention snapped back to the stage as he realized something. Aventurine had stopped singing.

The silence in the air was sharp, thick with tension. He could hear the low hum of the audience, the murmur of uncertainty spreading as Aventurine stood frozen. The rules were clear: failure to continue meant disqualification. The moment was slipping away from him.

“With our story

Lost in forever’s embrace

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time.”

Ratio’s mind raced, his thoughts tumbling over one another. This was the moment—the moment he had to make a decision. A doctor of truth, he knew the consequences of his actions, but right now, his only concern was the gambler in front of him. Aventurine would never forgive himself if he failed here, and Ratio couldn’t let him face that.

Without another thought, Ratio dropped his mic onto the stage, the clatter of it fading into the silence. He stepped toward Aventurine, whose eyes were glazed over, unaware of the imminent danger. The weight of his decision pressed on Ratio’s chest, but there was no turning back now.

The rain began to fall, soft at first, then heavier, as if the world itself mourned the coming sacrifice. The droplets cascaded around them, a curtain of water, but all Ratio could see was his friend.

Aventurine lifted his gaze slowly, meeting Ratio’s eyes with an expression that was too tired, too distant, to fully comprehend why Ratio was standing so close now.

Ratio’s steps were steady as he reached Aventurine, his hand moving to gently cup his friend’s neck. He leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper against the damp air.

“Take care of yourself, Gambler. Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.”

Before Aventurine could react, before he could even respond, Ratio’s grip tightened. His fingers dug into Aventurine’s neck—not with the intent to choke him, but to send him into unconsciousness. To ensure he wouldn’t see what Ratio was about to do, the sacrifice he was making.

But to the audience, it was a different story.

The moment Ratio’s hands moved, the security team took action, weapons raised. They had been watching, ready to intervene. Violence was strictly prohibited, and it was clear that Ratio had broken the rules. He would be executed for this.

Still, Ratio didn’t flinch. He didn’t fight. The shots came fast, the sound of gunfire cutting through the tense silence. His body jerked with each bullet that struck him, but it wasn’t until the fatal shot, aimed at a vital artery, that he stumbled, blood pouring from his mouth. His vision blurred, but he managed to glance up at the screen.

Aventurine’s scores were climbing. The crowd roared, oblivious to the price Ratio had paid for it.

His eyes locked with Aventurine’s one final time, and Ratio smiled—bitter, resigned, but sincere. The world seemed to slow as he released his hold on Aventurine’s neck, letting his friend slip from his grasp.

Ratio crumpled to the ground, lifeless, blood staining the stage beneath him. His body became a dark pool of crimson, the contrast to Aventurine’s still form standing in disbelief.

The music beat dropped, filling the space, but it felt like the entire world had stilled, as if the stage itself was mourning the loss.

Aventurine stood frozen, staring down at Ratio’s body, his fingers pressing against his neck in disbelief. His mind couldn’t process it—their shared history, the bond they had formed, had been shattered in a moment. Ratio was gone.

The black-and-white contrast between them was undeniable. Ratio’s pure white suit now stained with the blood that had once belonged to him. Aventurine’s own darkness, his own guilt and despair, a stark reflection of the sacrifice Ratio had made for him.

The stage, the contest, the audience—they all blurred away in that moment. There was nothing left but the realization that everything had changed.

But little did anyone know, amidst the chaos and the tragedy that had unfolded on that stage, [Name] was still alive and was back now.

They had made it, against all odds, and now they stood just outside the chaotic scene, their eyes fixed on the aftermath of the deadly contest. The silence hung in the air, but [Name] could feel the weight of the moment—the deaths, the sacrifices, the choices made in the name of survival.

They were here to rescue their friends, to end this madness once and for all. But unlike before, [Name] wasn’t alone this time. They had a new group with them, a new force, even if it came with complications. The Stellaron Hunters—each one with their own agenda, their own reasons for standing in the shadows—were now part of their cause.

With the Stellaron Hunters behind them, and their newfound strength, [Name] stepped forward into the fray. The world ahead of them was uncertain, but they would make sure it was their future, not the one dictated by fate or fear.

It was time to rewrite the story.

(@thijikoy on X/Twitter)

Thank you, Natto (if you're reading this, lol), for once again allowing me to use your artworks with full credit given to you!

[Navigation]

[daryltwdixon]

Home for Christmas

Daryl x Reader fluff

Celebrating 500 followers

Thank you so much for supporting my work and taking the time to read what I create!!! Writing has been a passion of mine for years, but it’s something I hadn’t picked up again until recently—after nearly a decade away from it. To know that people not only read my stories but enjoy them means the absolute world to me.

This blog and the friends I've made has reminded me of how much I love creating these little worlds, and it’s all thanks to your kind words, encouragement, and enthusiasm. You’ve reignited a part of me I didn’t realize I missed so much.

Here’s to more stories, more inspiration, and the love of Daryl Dixon we all share. I’m so grateful for every single one of you. ❤️

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for making this such a special experience.

The fire crackles softly, filling the room with a warm glow that flickers across the walls, casting long, lazy shadows over the worn furniture and the threadbare rug underneath you. Outside, the cold wind whistles against the windows, causing them to rattle every so often. But here, inside the warmth of the house, it’s quiet, calm. The world beyond these walls feels distant, dulled by the flicker of flames and the steady rhythm of your breaths.

You’re nestled in Daryl’s lap, his back propped against the base of the couch. His arms are a comforting weight around you, holding you close. With your legs folded across his, you lean into him, your head tucked beneath his chin. His hands drift absently through your hair, his calloused fingers catching gently on the strands before smoothing them out again. The motion is slow, unthinking, and so tender and sweet.

Every so often, he leans forward, his lips brushing against your temple, then your cheek, and once—soft and lingering—against your nose. Each kiss feels deliberate, like he’s committing every line of you to memory.

The smell of pine lingers faintly in the room, mingling with the smoky tang of the fire. There's a small Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with scavenged ribbons and mismatched ornaments. It glows softly with the faint light of a string of battery-powered bulbs. It’s lopsided, leaning slightly to one side, but it’s yours. And something Daryl had done just for you.

“Yer warm,” he murmurs just now, the words barely audible, his arms tightening ever so slightly around your body.

You hum in response, shifting slightly to settle deeper into him. The sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his arms around you is enough to make you feel weightless. Somewhere down the street, the faint noise of Deanna’s Christmas party drifts through the stillness, laughter and music carried by the cold wind. But it feels a world away.

“They still going at it, you think?” you ask softly. Your voice is low, teasing, your cheek pressing against his chest.

“Prolly,” he mutters, his lips brushing against the crown of your head. “Ain’t missin’ nothin’, though.”

“I hope Carol at least saves us some cookies,” you say playfully, “Unless they’ve already devoured everything.”

“She prolly stashed some somewhere. Knows they’ll tear through ‘em.” He huffs a soft laugh, the sound more like a quiet rumble in his chest. “I ain’t worried.”

You smile to yourself, savoring this— just the moment. There’s something about the warmth of his voice, the way his hands stay so steady and gentle even though his whole world has been rough edges. His hands continue their stroking of your locks, and it feels like something precious, something you don’t want to let go of.

After a beat of silence, you shift slightly in his lap, angling your head to glance up at him. “Hey,” you murmur, a mischievous smile curling at the edges of your lips. “I’ve got something for you.”

Daryl tilts his head, his brow furrowing as he looks down at you. “What?”

“A Christmas gift,” you say, pulling a small, clumsily wrapped bundle from the pocket of your sweater. “Surprise.”

He frowns, his eyes darting to the package and then back to you. “Don’t need nothin’.”

“Well, too bad,” you say lightly, placing it in his hands. “You’re getting it anyway.”

He exhales sharply, but the way his fingers curl carefully around the gift betrays his curiosity. He peels back the paper slowly, methodical as always, and when he finally reveals the knife nestled inside, his breath catches. It’s one you made, though not entirely on your own—Rosita's talent for knowing how to disassemble an old, ugly knife and reassemble it onto a new handle had been invaluable.

But the handle itself, that was yours. Weeks of carving, sanding, and perfecting the grip until it fit in your hand like it belonged there. You’d smoothed out the wood until it was free of every imperfection, careful and precise as you could be. The laminate had been the hardest part to find—an essential finish to make it usable without risking splinters. Now, dark and polished, the handle feels solid, complete.

A single word is carved into the side: Always. The letters are uneven, the depth of each line a little shaky. You’d whispered that word to one another in quieter moments, a promise exchanged in place of three others meant only for the two of you.

Daryl stares at it for a long moment, his thumb brushing over the word. “You did this?” he asks quietly, his voice thick in a way that makes your chest tighten.

“Yeah,” you say, suddenly shy. “Figured it might… y’know, come in handy.”

His lips twitch, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through the seriousness on his face. “S’perfect.”

“Even though the ‘A’ is a little lopsided?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“That part’s perfect too,” he mutters, his fingers tightening around the handle. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and there’s something soft and unguarded in his eyes. “Thank you. It… it means a lot’. Even with yer messy writin,”

You swallow the lump in your throat, smiling and leaning into him. “Good. ‘Cause you mean a lot."

He lets out a breath, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. “Love ya, hunny,” he mumbles, before pressing his lips against yours in a tenderness that leaves your heart aching.

You hum in response against him, leaning close and gripping his shirt in your hands. When he pulls away, his lips press into a thin line, his brow furrowing. “I, uh…” He shifts slightly, reaching behind him and pulling a small bundle out of the pocket of his jacket. “Found these for ya. Thought ‘bout just givin’ ya coal, but…” He chuckles, his eyes flicking to yours. “Figured this’d solve the problem instead.”

You take the bundle from him, unwrapping it carefully, and laugh softly when you see the thick, fleece lined leather gloves inside. They’re soft and warm, clearly picked with care.

“Fer when yer freezin’ yer damn hands off,” he says gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And stickin’ ‘em under my shirt.”

You laugh, slipping one of the gloves on and wiggling your fingers. “They’re perfect. Way better than coal.”

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe now you’ll stop tryna freeze me t’death and I won’t have to consider it fer next year,”

“Maybe,” you tease, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “But I sure do love the face you make when I do it.”

He huffs, though his ears tint pink, and his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. The fire crackles on, the warmth wrapping around you like a blanket, but it’s his lips, soft and lingering against your temple, that make you feel truly safe. He pauses for a moment, then presses another kiss to the crown of your head, his hands smoothing over your back.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The fire pops softly in the hearth, its light still casting everything into golden light. His thumb brushes absentmindedly along your back, and you find yourself marveling at how something so simple, so quiet, can feel like the most profound thing in the world.

You shift again, your hand rubbing along his sweater clad forearm as you tilt your head to look up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

His hand slides up to cup your jaw, fingers gentle as his eyes search your face with a gentleness only found in these sorts of moments. In the quiet, with just the two of you.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his mouth to yours, and for the first time in a long, long time, everything feels right.

[nomercymaster11]

In his absence

@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO

A/N: Law x you, afab!reader, R-18! NSFW This is a short, two-part story to celebrate reaching 200 followers! Thanks for all your support. My imagination goes crazy when I think about Law, so I hope you enjoy the story. (I just had to come up with a scenario to fit in the exciting bits. haha)

Law gently placed his hand atop your head, His touch feels reassuring, but also carries a strong sense of resolve.

"I'll be back before you even realize I'm gone," he murmured, the back of his hand caressing your cheek tenderly. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword as he turned away, striding purposefully towards the rail's edge.

With a swift movement, Law activated his devil fruit ability, vanishing into thin air before your eyes. The subtle hum of the submarine's engines filled the silence left in his wake, and you found yourself retreating inside. You’re already feeling the heaviness of his absence starting to sink in.

You pulled the lever to seal the metal door behind you. The familiar pang of worry gnawed at your heart, despite knowing that Law's solo missions were always executed with precision and skill. Yet, the unease lingered, a continuous reminder of the risks he may encounter outside the safety of the submarine's walls. You couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort that accompanied each departure, the uncertainty of when he would return amplifying your fears.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to the wait, knowing that no amount of fretting would hasten Law's return.

^^^

Each day began with a silent prayer for his safe return. You found yourself falling into a routine. It had become a ritual, visiting his cabin first before attending to the other rooms in the submarine. It was a small gesture, a way to keep his presence close, even when he was away on his missions.

Stepping into Law's cabin, you couldn't help but miss him. The space seemed to echo with his presence. Memories flooded your mind, each item holding a story, a connection to the man you loved. Running your fingers over the neatly arranged belongings on his desk, you smile at the thought of him. His meticulous nature was reflected in every corner of the room, from the neatly folded clothes to the orderly stack of books on his nightstand.

With a tender sigh, you set about your task, straightening the sheets on his bed with a gentle touch. It had been a few months since you started dating and sharing his bed had become a cherished ritual. The warmth of his embrace lingered in the softness of the blankets, a reminder of the intimacy you shared in the quiet moments between missions.

Sitting at the edge of Law's bed, you reached for a pillow, clutching it tightly to your chest as if it were a lifeline to the memories of him. Slowly, you allowed yourself to sink into the softness of the mattress, the pillow pressing against you like a comforting embrace.

Closing your eyes, you let the memories flood your mind, the last time you had made love with him, dancing vividly in your thoughts. You remembered the way he kissed you, his lips claiming yours with a passion that ignited every fiber of your being. Sensuality and tenderness intertwined as he explored the contours of your mouth, each touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your breath caught in your throat as you recalled the sensation of his lips trailing down your neck, igniting a symphony of sensations that coursed through your veins like wildfire. His movements were deliberate yet gentle, proof of how deeply he loves and wants you.

With each passing moment, the memories grew more vivid, the sensation of his touch lingering on your skin like an imprint of his love. You could almost feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his whispered words of adoration sending shivers down your spine.

Lost in the haze of memory, you savored every moment, every touch, as if it were happening all over again. In that fleeting moment of bliss, you found solace in the knowledge that no matter the distance, the bond you shared with Law transcended time and space, a love that burned brighter with each passing day.

With a deep sigh, you let your right hand slide across your body, moving with a slow, deliberate grace. You began to massage your right breast through the fabric of your shirt, savoring the comforting warmth and the gentle pressure of your touch. The sensation brought a small, bittersweet pleasure, like a whisper of something more profound.

As your hand ventured downward, tracing a path over your stomach, a wave of longing surged through you, intensifying the ache between your legs. Just thinking about him, his touch, his presence, sent a fire through your veins, making your heart race and your body tremble with unfulfilled desire.

Yet, before you could give in to the growing temptation, a firm resolve washed over you. You remembered the promise he had extracted from you, his words echoing in your mind like a sacred vow: to abstain from self-pleasure while he was away on his missions. It was a pact made in the heat of passion, a testament to the bond you shared.

With a heavy heart, you forced yourself to stop, the ache between your legs a poignant reminder of the pleasure you denied yourself. This act of restraint, though difficult, felt like a tribute to the depth of your love and the trust that defined your relationship. For him, even your most intimate moments were reserved, a gift to be shared only in his presence.

The longing within you burned brightly, but you found a strange solace in the anticipation of his return. The promise of his touch, his embrace, held your desire in check. And so, you waited with bated breath, knowing that soon he would come back to you, ready to claim what was his, to fill the void with the ecstasy you both craved. Until then, you held on, each day bringing you closer to the moment when you would no longer have to wait.

After tidying up Law's cabin, you gathered his dirty laundry and deposited it into the basket, closing the door with a soft click. Lost in your thoughts, you turned around only to bump into Penguin, who greeted you with his usual exuberance.

"Hey!" Penguin exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, are you crying?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as he noticed the mistiness in your eyes.

Quickly composing yourself, you shook your head. "No, I don't. Maybe it's just the dust from cleaning his room," you offered, hoping to deflect any further inquiries about your emotional state.

"Liar," Penguin retorted with a playful grin, flicking his finger gently against your forehead. "Well, I don't blame you if you're missing him already," he added, his tone softening as he acknowledged the weight of Law's absence.

"Anyway, if you ever feel lonely, you know where to find us. Whether it's in the common area or the control room, we'll be there to keep you company," Penguin reassured you, his words a comforting reminder of the bond you shared with your fellow crewmates.

With a nod, you thanked him for his understanding, the warmth of his smile easing the ache in your heart.

"Thank you," you replied, gratitude coloring your voice as you returned his smile.

^^^ the next day ^^^

As you slowly eat your food, your gaze drifted over each member of the crew, each face telling a unique story of how they came to join the Heart Pirates. Despite Law's reputation as a notorious criminal in the eyes of the world government, to you and everyone aboard the submarine, he was so much more. He was a leader, a friend, and a beloved captain, cherished by all who sailed under his flag.

Lost in your thoughts of him, you couldn't help but smile, the memory of his presence filling you with warmth and affection. Unbeknownst to you, the trio of Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo observed you with amusement, their eyes lingering on you.

It wasn't until their gaze became too noticeable to ignore that you looked up, startled to find their attention focused squarely on you. Penguin, ever the romantic, let out a dreamy sigh as he rested his elbow on the table, his chin propped up by his hand.

"Look who's madly in love with our Captain," he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Shachi, always the skeptic, chimed in with a quizzical expression.

"Does the captain treat you well?" he inquired; his tone laced with curiosity. "I still can't picture him being sweet to you," he admitted, his skepticism evident in his words as he continued to fork a vegetable from his plate.

Bepo, ever the observant one, added his own input with a wide-eyed innocence. "Oh! I saw them holding hands the other day," he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement at the memory.

Penguin leaned in slightly, his tone turning more serious as he addressed you. "Anyway, (y/n), thank you for being patient with him," he said, his gaze softening with genuine appreciation. "You were his first lover, after all," he added, a hint of significance underlying his words.

"Really? That's news to me," you replied, taken aback by the revelation. The idea hadn't crossed your mind, and you found yourself surprised that Law hadn't shared such intimate details with you.

"I'm surprised he didn't tell you that," Penguin said, his eyebrows furrowing in perplexity. With a tinge of skepticism in your voice, you shook your head.

"It doesn't seem like the case to me, which is why I haven't asked him about it," you said. They don't realize that Law looks after you the manner you choose. Simply put, he doesn't display it while someone is present.

As the conversation took a playful turn, Shachi couldn't resist chiming in with a knowing grin. "As long as he doesn't make you cry, except in a different scenario," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Penguin quickly caught on to his friend's playful banter, joining in with a chuckle.

"STOP! Oh my god!" you exclaimed.

Your cheeks flushed at their words, a wave of love and embarrassment pouring over you. Despite their teasing, you couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude for their acceptance and camaraderie. In the heart of the submarine, surrounded by your fellow crewmates, you found solace in the knowledge that your love for Law was not only accepted but celebrated amongst those who mattered most.

^^^ a few days later ^^^

Tonight, you’ll be sleeping in his cabin again, just like you did the previous nights when he wasn't there. You slip out of your overall suit, feeling the fabric slide off your skin, and reach for one of his unwashed polo shirts hanging nearby. As you pull it over your head, the familiar scent of him— a mix of his cologne and the lingering smell of antiseptic— envelops you, bringing a small comfort. The shirt is oversized, its hem brushing against your thighs, but it wraps around you like a warm embrace, providing a sense of security.

Though your body feels like it could melt into the mattress from exhaustion, your mind buzzes with the remnants of the day’s events. You wander over to his cluttered desk and pick up one of his medical textbooks, the cover worn from frequent use. Climbing onto the bed, you settle against the headboard, the cool metal pressing against your back. With a sigh, you bend your knees and rest the hefty book on your lap.

The cabin is cozy tonight, the gentle hum of the heater filling the silence. You grab the blanket draped at the foot of the bed and pull it over your legs, cocooning yourself in its soft folds. You nestle into the pillows, arranging them snugly at your side, creating a little nest against the cold, hard wall.

As you start reading, the words blur and your eyelids grow heavier with each passing minute. Your breathing slows, deep and steady, as if someone had pressed a button to turn off your thoughts. Stifling a yawn, you close the book and place it on the nightstand with a soft thud, the action feeling distant and automatic. You slide down into the bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin, the fabric brushing against your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and the world around you fades, as you finally surrender to sleep’s gentle pull.

^^^

Sometime past midnight, you weren't sure how long, you began to stir. You were never a light sleeper, but the gentle press of warm lips on your forehead nudged you into consciousness. Your eyes fluttered open, vision still blurry with the remnants of sleep. You could make out a silhouette beside you, moving gently in the dim light.

Slightly rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand, you tried to clear your vision. As the haze began to lift, you stretched your arms, using your arms to push yourself up into a sitting position. There, seated on the edge of the bed beside you, was Law. He had returned.

A smile tugged at your lips as you looked at him, his presence filling the room with a comforting warmth. "Sorry for waking you up," Law spoke softly, his voice tender and filled with affection.

^^^

LAW’S POV

Law returned in the middle of the night, his mind abuzz with strategies and plans for his next mission. The weight of weariness pressed heavily on his shoulders, prompting him to seek refuge in his cabin for a quick nap. As he approached the door, he noticed a faint glow emanating from beneath it, a familiar and comforting sight. With deliberate care, he opened the door, slipping inside and closing it just as quietly behind him.

The sight that greeted him made him gasp and gulp heavily. You lay sprawled across his bed, your right arm resting above your head while your left hand lay gently on your stomach. Your left leg was slightly bent, the other stretched out languidly. The shirt you wore, one of his, was haphazardly covering your body, exposing your laced undergarment, and almost revealing your breasts. The sight was both intimate and incredibly tempting.

Law removed his fur hat and placed it on his desk, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to steady his racing thoughts. His nose flared as he inhaled deeply, trying to quell the desire stirring within him. The sight of you, so vulnerable and alluring, made it a challenge to resist the temptation before him.

With a sigh, he took the blanket that had been pushed aside as you moved on the bed and carefully draped it over you. He sat beside you, his eyes lingering on your serene face, taking comfort in your presence. In the quiet of the night, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate moment of stillness.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers trembling slightly. As he gazed at you, he felt a profound sense of peace and gratitude. Despite the chaos and danger that awaited him outside, here, in this cabin, he found solace and strength in your love. With a tender smile, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring, "Sorry for waking you up."

^^^

"You're back," you whispered.

Law nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "I couldn't stay away," he admitted, his weariness momentarily forgotten in the comfort of your presence.

^^^

Your eyes linger on him as he slowly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing those muscles that flex and tease under the soft light. He moves with a deliberate sensuality, stripping off his pants until he's left in just his boxers. The temptation to wrap your arms around him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, is almost overwhelming. But instead, you hold back, your hand reaching up to cup his face tenderly.

He places his right hand over yours, leaning into your touch. His lips find the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, and he gently bites, sending a shiver down your spine. Something shifts in his eyes, a spark of intensity igniting within him. With a sudden, firm grasp, he grabs the nape of your neck and pulls you closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"You know I'm trying my best to hold back from fucking you right now. Have mercy on me," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper filled with raw desire. He inhales deeply, his breath mingling with yours, before slowly pulling back to look into your eyes, dark and heavy with longing. "Sorry, I couldn't fulfill our desires for the meantime. I wanted to rest, hope you understand," he adds, his gaze softening with a mix of regret and exhaustion.

"Of course," you reply, though a hint of disappointment lingers in your voice. As you study his face, you can see the weariness etched into his features, the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw. He has so much weighing on his mind, so many burdens he carries.

You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Rest now," you say softly, your hand still cradling his face. "We'll have our time." ^^^

You scoot to the side, making room for him on the narrow bed. Law switches off the lamp on the nightstand, plunging the cabin into darkness save for the faint glow from the moonlight filtering through the porthole. He stretches out on his stomach, his head sinking into the pillow, his back a broad expanse of muscle turned away from you.

A flicker of mischief dances in your mind, but his earlier words echo in your ears, reminding you of his resolve. His restraint, a testament to his discipline honed over years, only deepens your admiration for him. With a sigh, you lie on your back, staring blankly at the ceiling above, your thoughts swirling in the quiet darkness.

Minutes pass, each one stretching longer than the last, your sense of longing growing more intense. Unable to resist, you reach out tentatively, moving closer until your left cheek presses against the warmth of his back. Wrapping your right arm around him, you feel the rise and fall of his steady breathing.

Just as you think he might be asleep; he surprises you by reaching for your hand. His fingers trace your knuckles with a gentle caress before he grasps your hand firmly, his touch both reassuring and intimate. The gesture speaks volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you share.

Moments later, you hear the soft, rhythmic sound of his snoring, a sign that sleep has finally claimed him. Holding onto him, you find a sense of peace in his presence, the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear a comforting lullaby. Slowly, the warmth of his body and the rhythmic cadence of his breathing lull you into your own peaceful slumber, the longing replaced by a deep, abiding contentment.

PART TWO

[bumpolantern]

Litter

Summary: A human woman giving birth to a large litter of werewolf pups.

Warnings: MDNI. 18+. Slightly graphic and orgasmic birth.

Divider credit @saradika-graphics ❤🙏🏻

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Wanting so badly to be heavily pregnant with my werewolf lover’s litter for the fourth time. Each litter I carried for him is around 12 pups at the least, the last one I had birthed 15 beautiful pups.

Oh, I want to be in labor so bad with my fourth litter of 18 pups. Huffing and puffing as my very hot and handsome werewolf lover and I take care of the rest of our litter together and tend to our home in the middle of the woods while I labor.

At this point, I’ve given birth to enough pups to know exactly when the next one will drop that I just strap on a large blanket across my body to put my newborn pups there while I continue to work.

I imagine us foraging and gathering firewood, and I feel my third pup descending into my birth canal. I held onto my lover’s shoulder and lightly squeezed him with a smile, my eyes closed. He smiled back and turned to me, took my hands, and placed them around his neck for support while I pushed.

Having birthed so many pups before had gotten easier but it still stings and hurts, nonetheless.

“Hoo hoo hooo… Hnnngggghhh… ahhh…” I breathed, pushed hard, and let up as the contraction ended. The third pup already began to crown.

“That’s it, that’s it…” my lover coos, his large paw on my back and the other cupping my dripping and crowning pussy.

He leaned down to kiss me deeply and passionately while I continued to birth. Only stopping when a very strong urge to push took over; I gave in to this very primal urge and the third pup slid out of my pussy completely but not without giving me such a strong orgasm like its brother and sister before them.

With trembling legs and still high in euphoria, I pushed again as I felt the fourth one crowning as soon as the third one slipped and the fifth one already in position.

My lover and I chuckled at our pup’s eagerness and he helped me to sit down on the grassy grounds. I leaned back on my elbows, with my legs spread, and my huge contracting belly glistened in the afternoon sun's light.

My lover removed the large cloth strapped to me containing the first two pups of this big litter I was carrying. He lay it carefully on the ground and placed the third pup inside while I panted the head out of our fourth pup.

“Haaa haaa haahh, this one feels a little bigger… haaah haaah haaah ooohh… hmmmngggghhh…”

“You can do it, love. You’re doing so well…” he assures me with a warm smile, cupping the emerging head and lovingly rubbing my enormous pregnant belly.

With a loud moan of pleasure, I birthed the fourth pup—

“Oh fuck!” I squealed both in pleasure and slight panic as I felt the next one begin to crown faster than I could push. My body doing all the work for me, pushing the fifth one out and the next few ones just kept on slipping out of my drenched pussy.

My lover laughed lovingly as each pup just slipped out without much conscious effort from me. Doing his best to catch each one but failing as they are practically streaming out of my pussy.

This left me a whimpering and moaning mess with trembling arms and shaking legs. I gave in and laid flat on the ground, my belly and shaking knees up facing the sun, squeezing my heavily engorged breasts as I continued to birth and cum.

By the time the seventeenth pup was crowning, I was close to passing out and with a final high-pitched and long moan I had given birth successfully to all 18 pups.

“Well done my love!” My lover praises but I was so out of it from exhaustion that I did not even notice when he placed two pups at a time to feed on my heavily leaking breasts and him mounting me as soon as the afterbirth was expelled. Thrusting wildly in my already battered pussy fresh from birth while he chased his high and desire to knot me again and I just happily took it knowing that I’d do this all my life until my body could no longer do it.