#gently reminder to lock your fics loves

[maraguanabana]

KEEP IT INSIDE THE FUCKING BOX FOR THE EVERLOVING FUCK.

I've seen many times how things go absolutely wrong when someone is stupid enough (or careless enough) to open the Pandora Box. There's a reason YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO OPEN IT. JESUS.

Whenever someone aknowledges that big ass neon pink shiny elephant, things quickly and quite easily go to hell. You gotta remember that these are real people and not only characters on a fic. You know, it is as if these kind of fics are called Real People Fics (RPF). Who would say so! They can feel unconfortable or attacked or as if their privacy was blatanly violated. They have feelings, just like everyone else does.

Keep things where they belong. You don't fucking put your dirty underwear on the microwave, do you? (I really hope you don't) THEN DON'T OPEN THE CAN OF WORMS FOR EVERYONE TO SEE!

PD. If Max or. Checo end up being asked anything related to ao3 or the Chestappen thing, I'll quit....

....from life. or maybe just fanfic life. let's not be that dramatic.

[requiemforthepoets]

baby peanut! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x wife!reader

SUMMARY: keeping your pregnancy from lando was proven to be very hard when all you want is tell him the amazing news that you both are expecting again. but since his birthday was coming up, you waited for his special day to tell him.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: reader is french-russian, multicultural household, established relationships, pregnancy, typos, and gramatical errors

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HAPPY LANDO DAY!!!!! was debating on posting a new fic for him, but decided to just make it a part of the norris family series, though this can be read as a stand alone. hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The soft morning light was just beginning to filter through the white curtains when you stirred awake, glancing over to see Lando fast asleep beside you. His peaceful face looked even more boyish, framed by the tousled strands of hair he hadn’t bothered to tame before collapsing into bed after last night’s stream. It had been hours before he joined you in bed, he and Max laughing and gaming into the early morning, and you knew he deserved this rest.

Just as you began to carefully sit up, you heard a soft rustling sound from the bedroom doorway. Peeking over, you spotted a small figure, a very familiar figure—a little silhouette with tousled hair, just like Lando’s, and sparkling eyes, trying best to tiptoe into the room. It was Thylane, with her tiny hands clutching her favorite blankie. You could see that she was struggling to hold back a giggle as she glanced over at her sleeping father.

Smiling, you brought a finger to your lips, silently shushing her. Thylane’s eyes widened, and she stopped mid-step, freezing in the doorway. You motioned gently for her to come closer to you, and she padded over quietly, looking up at you expectantly.

“Is Papa awake yet?” She whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

The eagerness in her tone made your heart swell, and you could not help but lean down, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

“No, mon amour,” you whispered back, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Papa had a very late night with Uncle Max. He needs his sleep, let’s let him rest a little longer, hm?”

Thylane nodded, her expression brightening at the thought of what you had in mind. “But it’s Papa’s birthday! I want to say happy birthday to him!”

“I know, my love. But how about we go to the kitchen, just you and me, and make a special birthday breakfast for Papa? Then we can surprise him together when he wakes up, and…” you paused, heart fluttering as you thought about the special surprise you had planned, one that you had kept to yourself until today. “And there’s something very exciting we’ll be giving him. Something you’re going to help me with, too.”

Her eyes lit up, and she bounced on her toes, already whispering with excitement. “What is it, Mama?”

“You’ll see, mon petit trésor,” you murmured with a soft smile. “It’s a surprise just as much for you as it is for your Papa. Now, come on.”

You grabbed your silk robe by the vanity chair and put it on. Taking Thylane’s little hand in yours, you casted a quick glance back at Lando. You leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, lingering just a moment. The warmth of his skin was comforting, and for a heartbeat, you just admired the peaceful look on his face, hoping he would carry that warmth with him when he awoke to find you both by his side. Then you carefully lifted Thylane into your arms to keep her quiet and avoid the soft creaks of the floorboards as you slipped out of the room together.

You and Thylane moved quietly into the kitchen, both of you filled with anticipation. The kitchen was softly lit by the morning sun, casting a warm glow over the countertops as you gathered everything you needed for Lando’s birthday breakfast, with Thylane already clutching the whisk with her small hands, her tongue poking out in concentration as she tried her best to mix the batter for the pancakes.

“Like this, Mama?” She asked, glancing up at you, her face bright with determination.

“Oui, parfait, mon ange,” you replied, ruffling her hair lightly. “Now, tu peux ajouter les blueberries. Add the blueberries, like this.” You handed her a small bowl of plump blueberries, showing her how to fold them gently into the batter.

She followed your instructions very carefully, not wanting to ruin Lando’s surprise, her little fingers pushing each blueberry into the mix with care, her eyes darting to you every so often to check if she was doing it right.

“Is Papa going to love it?” She whispered.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Of course Papa’s going to love it because you made it for him,” you assured her, watching her face break into a wide grin. “Now, pass me the flour, please—la farine. Careful, don’t spill.”

With both hands, Thylane picked up the small bag of flour and brought it over, the look of focus never leaving her face. She had switched to a more serious demeanor, taking her role as your little sous-chef very seriously.

“Here, Mama!” She said proudly, handing it to you as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

“Merci, mon trésor,” you replied, taking the flour and measuring out the right amount for the batter. “Okay, now you can stir again, doucement, like this.” You demonstrated, letting her hands follow yours as you guided her through the gentle motions.

When the pancakes were stacked high on a plate, topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of maple syrup, you and Thylane both stood back, admiring your creation.

“Look at what we made together,” you said softly, squeezing Thylane’s shoulder. “Papa will be very happy.”

Thylane clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Can we give it to him now?”

“Not yet,” you shook your head, a smile forming on your lips. “There’s one more surprise we need to get ready.”

Walking over to the drawer, you retrieved the small acrylic box, some soft cloth, and your carefully wrapped pregnancy test. Thylane’s brows furrowed as she watched you, her head tilting with curiosity.

“What’s that, Mama?” She asked, peering closely at the box as you placed the soft cloth inside.

“This, my love, is a very special surprise for Papa,” you knelt down so that you were eye-level with her, placing the test in the box atop the folded cloth. “Do you remember how you told me you wanted to have a little brother or sister?”

Thylane’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes! Yes! Does this mean…”

“Yes, Tilly. This means you’re going to be a big sister.” You smiled warmly at her.

Her face lit up, her mouth forming a perfect little “O” of excitement. “Really, Mama? I get a baby brother or sister?”

“Yes, mon trésor,” you nodded, laughing softly at her reaction. “We don’t know yet if it’s a brother or sister, but the baby is here, right inside Mama’s tummy, just a little peanut for now.”

Thylane’s eyes went wide with wonder, and she pressed her small hands to your stomach as if she was trying to feel the baby herself.

“A baby peanut!” She giggled, delight shining in her face. “Can we call the baby that for now?”

“Of course,” you chuckled, brushing her hair back. “Until we know more, we can call your little sibling, baby peanut.” She grinned, clearly enamored with the idea, and watched carefully as you tied the ribbon around the box with care.

“Can I help with the ribbon?” She asked, her hand already reaching out eagerly.

“Of course, here.” You said, guiding her hand as she carefully looped the ribbon around, tightening it with a gentle tug and finishing it off in a neat bow.

“Where should we put it, Mama?” She asked, glancing around the room.

You took a quick look at the cozy space, then pointed to a spot on the kitchen counter, just out of Lando’s immediate line of sight.

“Right here,” you decided, setting the box down gently. “That way, Papa won’t see it right away.”

Thylane nodded, grinning widely. “I can’t wait to see Papa’s reaction!”

With breakfast prepared and the surprise box tucked safely out of sight, you and Thylane made your way back to the bedroom, eager to wake up the birthday boy. By now, the sun had fully risen, casting a warm glow across the room as you nudged the door open to your and Lando’s bedroom. You expected to see Lando still sleeping peacefully, but instead, he was already awake, propped up on pillows with his phone in his hand, scrolling with a sleepy smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, Thylane let out a squeal of excitement and sprinted towards the bed, practically launching herself onto him. Lando barely had time to react before she pounced, wrapping her arms around his neck and showering Lando’s face with small kisses.

“Happy birthday, Papa! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!” She chanted, each word punctuated with a giggling kiss to Lando’s cheeks, forehead, and nose. Lando can’t help but laugh, his eyes crinkling with joy as he pulled her close, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Thank you, Tilly!” He replied, chuckling as he looked up at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a special wake-up call on my birthday before.”

She nodded enthusiastically, her face flushed with pride. “I made you a biiiiig birthday card last night! It’s pink, and has lots of hearts and sparkles on it, and I even drew a race car!”

“Woah, a race car? Just for me? Now that is one special card,” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear as he smiled up at her. “I can’t wait to see it. I bet it’s the best card in the whole world.”

Giggling, Thylane seated herself on top of his stomach, her little hands resting on his chest as she looked down at Lando with pure adoration. You leaned against the doorway, laughing at the sweet sight in front of you before walking over to the bed and settling down beside Lando.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, but laced with affection. “I’m so happy that I get to spend my birthday with my favorite girls.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his. “Good morning, birthday boy,” you whispered, smiling against his lips before pulling back just slightly. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Lando grinned, puckering his lips again, silently asking for another kiss. Laughing, you leaned down, giving him another soft kiss, feeling his hand come up to gently cup your cheek. In that moment, it was just the three of you, wrapped in warmth and love, as if nothing else in the world existed. As you pulled back, Thylane let out a little giggle, pointing at the two of you with a mischievous grin.

“Ew, Mama and Papa!” She teased, though her face betrayed nothing but happiness.

Lando laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Hey, I deserve a birthday kiss, don’t I?”

“Papa! Mama and I made you a special breakfast!” She announced, clapping her hands. “We worked really, really hard. I even put the blueberries in all by myself!”

“No way! You mean to tell me you were my chef this morning, too?” Lando ticked her side, making her dissolve into giggles.

Thylane laughed, wiggling under his tickling fingers. “Yes, I’m your chef today! Mama showed me how to make everything.”

“Well, now I definitely have to see what my two favorite girls cooked up,” he said, sitting up slowly.

Lando reached over, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you close, then lifted Thylane into his other arm. She squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling her head against Lando’s shoulder. As the three of you made your way to the kitchen, Lando kept his arm secure around your waist, pulling you close as Thylane chattered excitedly about breakfast.

“Mama taught me how to fold in the blueberries so they wouldn’t smush!” She said proudly. “And we made a big stack of pancakes with syrup and blueberries and…oh! And I even helped tie a bow for your present!”

Lando gave you a curious look over Thylane’s shoulder. “A present, huh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “I’m starting to think you two were up to a lot more than just breakfast this morning.”

“Hm, maybe we were,” you replied, smiling playfully as you reached up to brush a strand of his hair back. “But you’ll have to be patient to find out.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist. “Well, I don’t know how much patience I have today. I mean, it is my birthday.”

Laughing, you reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Good things come to those who wait, birthday boy.”

The three of you entered the kitchen, where the table was set with the special breakfast you and Thylane had made. Lando’s eyes sparkled as he took it all in, and Thylane beamed with pride, practically bouncing in his arms.

“Happy birthday, Papa!” She exclaimed one last time, her voice full of love and excitement, her little arms squeezing him tightly.

With Lando’s arm around you, and Thylane hugging him with all her might, it was clear to you that this birthday morning could not have started off any sweeter.

Breakfast was a cozy, peaceful affair, the three of you wrapped in the simplicity of the morning. You and Lando chatted about plans for his birthday dinner later, throwing around ideas and laughing at each other’s jokes, while Thylane happily watched her favorite show on her iPad, humming along with the familiar theme song of Little Einsteins. It was a gentle scene, just the three of you? Sharing a quiet, joyful space as the morning sun spilled across the table.

Lando seemed perfectly content, caught up in the warmth of the moment. He had almost forgotten about the small gift waiting for him, tucked away in the kitchen—until you stood up, brushing a gentle hand across his shoulder.

“Wait here for a sec,” you said softly, a hint of excitement in your voice. “Tilly, come help me with something for Papa.”

Thylane’s face lit up as she hopped down from her chair, glancing at you with a secretive smile. She knew exactly what was coming next. Taking her hand, you led her back into the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder to see Lando watching you both with a look of fond curiosity. He seemed completely oblivious to what was coming.

You reached into the cozy corner of the counter, pulling out the small, acrylic box you had hidden away with so much care. Inside, carefully wrapped in a soft cloth, was the positive pregnancy test. You knelt down, handing the box to Thylane, who held it carefully with wide, shining eyes.

“Okay, mon ange,” you whispered, giving her a gentle smile. “Give this to Papa, and make sure he opens it.”

She nodded, taking the box in her hands as if it were a treasure. Together, you walked back to the dining area, where Lando was watching you both with growing curiosity.

“What’s this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a playful grin.

Thylane held out the box, her excitement barely contained. Lando took the acrylic box, glancing from her to you, a mixture of awe and confusion on his face.

You smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, leaning close. “Go on,” you said, voice soft with anticipation. “Open it.”

“Open it, Papa! Open it!” She echoed, bouncing slightly on her toes, her face brimming with excitement.

Lando carefully untied the delicate ribbon that Thylane had helped you with that morning, his fingers moving slowly as if savoring the moment. The box felt light in his hands, and his expression shifted from curiosity to wonder as he lifted the lid, pulling away the cloth inside. The instant he saw the test, his eyes widened, and Lando looked up at you with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

“Is this…” he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he was afraid he might shatter the moment. “Is this real? Is this for real?”

You nodded, unable to contain your own smile as you squeezed his shoulder. “Yes, love. It is real.” You watched his face light up as the reality of it washed over him.

“Happy birthday, my love.” You added softly, feeling your own heart swell with happiness.

Lando did not hesitate. He stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off of your feet, twirling you in a gentle circle. His laugh was warm and filled with immense happiness so pure that it brought tears to your eyes.

“After all this time,” he murmured, voice thick with emotions as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “We’re really going to have another baby?” You nodded, laughing through your tears.

“I found out a few weeks ago, when you were in Mexico. I wanted to wait until today to tell you.” You placed a hand on his cheeks, gazing up at him with all the love you had been holding back for weeks. “It took everything in me not to tell you the moment I found out.”

He kissed you softly, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered. “Thank you for waiting, love. This…this is literally the best birthday gift I’ve ever had.”

“Papa, did you see? It’s real!” She said, beaming and clapping her hand, while bouncing in happiness. “I’m going to have a baby brother or sister! I told Mama I want to call them baby peanut!”

“Baby peanut, huh?” Lando chuckled, bending down to lift Thylane into his arms, bringing her close to the two of you. Kissing her forehead, and looking at you with a grin. “I think that’s a perfect name, for now.”

“Papa, can we tell everyone? All our friends?” Thylane’s face lit up at the thought, and she looked back and forth between you and Lando.

“Soon, Tilly. But for now, let’s keep it our little secret, okay? Just between us.” He leaned down, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That way, we can keep baby peanut all to ourselves a little longer.”

“Our little secret!” She nodded seriously, her eyes wide as she held her finger to her lips. “I’m really good at secrets, Papa. I won’t tell anyone!”

You all just stood there, basking in the warmth and happiness of the quiet moment, Lando had never felt a new kind of peace settle over him. This was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of. A family, life filled with love and laughter, and now, another little one on the way.

Lando let Thylane down, letting her run towards the living room to play with her toys. He reached out, threading his fingers through yours and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, and kissing it softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking a little bit. “For this, for everything. You’ve given me the greatest gift of all.”

You squeezed his hand back, your own eyes shining with emotion. “I love you,” you murmured. “Happiest birthday, my love.”

As Lando held you closely, he realized that this was a happiness beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙀𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 - Pt. 2

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

【Ａ/Ｎ】 ⦂ I am not even gonna lie to y’all… I am really excited about this fic lmaoo. I love the direction it’s heading in and feel soo inspired writing it. More to come! Also as a reminder I'm not specific with what variant this is so you can fill in the details at your own discretion. ALSO I have not read the comics!!! So I am definitely taking liberties here - apologies for anything that seems OOC. But I mean, this is an AU Mark so how OOC can he be? Lastly this wasn't proofread! Too eager to put it out. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】 ⦂ Variant!Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】 ⦂ Possessive behavior, talk of violence

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】 ⦂ None

→【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｏｎｅ】←

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The shock of the kiss still hung in the air, a lingering tension that seemed to buzz between you both. Your lips felt warm, a stark contrast to the cold weight of his hands still holding you at arm’s length.

Mark pulled away slowly, his smirk spreading across his face like he knew exactly what you were thinking, what you were feeling.  His eyes—dark, predatory—tracked your every movement, as if he were savoring the discomfort you were trying so hard to hide.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” His voice was low, smooth, and almost... satisfied.

You didn’t know what to say.  The confusion inside of you was suffocating, your heart still racing from the intensity of the kiss, but also from the raw audacity of it.  You had a thousand questions spinning in your mind, but none of them seemed to form into words.  Your hands instinctively pressed to your lips, almost as if you could wipe away the sensation of him still lingering on your skin.

Mark didn’t give you the space to collect yourself, taking a step closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement at the way you still stood there, stunned.  He could feel your discomfort, and it thrilled him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” he teased, his lips curling up into a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. “You tasted it. I could see it in your eyes. Maybe you didn’t want it, but you liked it.”

Your chest tightened as you took a half-step back.  “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, Mark,” you said, your voice shaking with both anger and disbelief.  “This isn’t... this isn’t how you act.”

“Oh, but it is,” he countered, his voice growing softer, but the edge was sharp enough to cut through the air between you. “Not the other Mark.  Not the one you know.  But this Mark?  The one who rules everything?  This is who I am now.”

He took another step closer, closing the space between you with an almost casual ease.  You wanted to pull away, to create some distance, but your feet felt rooted to the floor as if his presence alone had a magnetic pull on you.

“You’re so much more fun when you’re not pretending to be in control,” Mark murmured, his voice now a little deeper, more commanding. His hand reached out, almost gently, to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, but the gesture felt anything but tender.  It was possessive, a quiet assertion of dominance.  “It’s cute, you know. The way you’re pretending like I haven’t already got you wrapped around my finger.”

You flinched at the touch, but he didn’t back off.  If anything, his smirk widened, and there was a dark satisfaction in his eyes.  “You’re not going to push me away,” he continued, his tone light, almost like he was savoring the power he had over you.  “You want this, even if you don’t know it.”

Mark’s eyes glinted as he stepped back, circling you slowly, like a predator toying with its prey.  “I know you’re confused. Hell, I know you probably hate me right now. But here’s the thing…” He leaned in close again, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.  “You don’t have to like it right away. You just have to accept it.”

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his words.  Trying to force yourself to think straight when all you could focus on was the way he made you feel—uneasy, exposed, and yet, there was something else.  Something darkly thrilling that you couldn’t quite shake.  You wanted to turn away, to push him away, but every time you tried, you were met with that same confidence in his eyes—the certainty that he was in control.

“Y-you don’t control me,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your throat.

Mark chuckled darkly.  “You already belong to me. Whether you know it or not.”

He was so sure of it, so smug in the way he spoke, like he had already won some kind of silent battle.  The realization hit you like a wave, crashing against your ribs.  You were trapped in this game of his making, and he was relishing every moment of it.

“Here’s the thing,” he continued, his voice now turning slightly more serious. “I could have taken what I wanted from you already.  Hell, I could take it whenever I want.  But I haven’t.  You want to know why?”

You didn’t answer, but he could hear your heart beat faster at the question.

“Because I want you to want me too,” he said, his voice almost purring now. “And I’m patient.  I’ll make you see that this—” He gestured between you, “—is where you belong.  I’ll make sure of it.”

For a moment, you stood there, caught in the suffocating intensity of his gaze.  There was no room for doubt in his words—no room for negotiation.  He wasn’t asking for permission.  He wasn’t giving you the space to choose.  And yet, there was something unsettlingly magnetic about the way he carried himself.

Mark glances over his shoulder toward the quiet town, then back at you, his smirk shifting into something more strained.  “There’s a place. You’ll be safe there. For now.”

Before you can process, Mark takes your hand, his grip firm, his touch sending a jolt through you. “Come on, we’ll talk more when we’re alone,” he says, almost casually.  He starts to lead you down the path away from the town, the sun starting to dip beneath the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground.

Without having much choice in the matter you follow, wondering just what kind of explanation you were about to get—and whether or not you truly wanted to hear it.  Eventually you find yourself standing in front of the old abandoned factory.

The warehouse door creaks as Mark pushes it open, the sound of the hinges groaning against years of neglect.  It’s dimly lit, with the last slivers of sunlight struggling to reach the floor through cracks in the walls.  Inside, the air smells of dust and forgotten things.

Mark doesn’t say much, his grip still tight on your hand as he leads you deeper into the shadows of the large, empty space.  The silence feels heavy, oppressive—like something waiting to happen.  Finally releasing his hold on you he leaned back against a stack of crates, his arms crossed, watching you with an intensity that made you feel like you were being sized up, evaluated.  You stood in front of him, still trying to process everything—the kiss, the way he’d taken control, the questions swirling around in your mind.  

“You’re still trying to piece it together, aren’t you?” he said, voice a little more amused now, as if he could already predict your next move. “You don’t get it yet.  You don’t understand why I’m so different from the Mark you know.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Different?  You’re... you’re nothing like the Mark I know—and I barely know him.”

He smirked, pushing off the crates and taking a step toward you, but not too close.  Just enough to make you feel his presence, to remind you of how easily he could control the space between you. “I know.  It’s funny, really.  You’re standing here, trying to figure me out, but you’re so far from the truth it’s almost... charming.”

You clenched your fists, feeling a surge of anger. “What are you talking about?”

Mark’s expression softened, just slightly, like he was about to tell you something profound. “I’m not from this universe.  Not like you.  I’m from a different one.  A parallel universe, to be precise.” His voice was cool, almost detached as he spoke. “I’m sure you’ve heard the theory before.  Alternate realities, alternate versions of ourselves, different timelines.  But this?  This is real.”

Your stomach twisted at the implications of his words. “You’re saying... you’re not really him?”

“No,” Mark replied, his voice almost wistful. “Not in the way you think.  I’m still me—at least, in the way that matters.  But in my world, I’m... different.  Stronger.  I didn’t grow up in your little world.  I wasn’t held back by rules or morals.  In my universe, I’ve taken control.  I’ve conquered everything. I’ve made it my own.”

You stepped back, the shock of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “You’ve... conquered the world?” The thought of him being stronger than the Invincible you knew seemed impossible.

Mark nodded, his gaze unwavering. “In my world, everyone answers to me.  Everything revolves around me.  But here?  It’s different.  This world—this version of Earth—it’s still weak.  It’s going to fall apart soon.  No one here is strong enough to stop it.  To stop the destruction coming for it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat. “What are you saying? That you’re... here to fix it?  To make it like your world?”

He stepped closer, his voice low now, tinged with something almost... desperate. “I’m here to make sure you understand.  That you don’t just stand by and let yourself die in this world. I’m here because, in my universe, you—” He hesitated, just for a moment, but then the words slipped out. “You were mine. You were the one I could count on.  You were the one who understood me.”

Your confusion deepened, a flood of questions tumbling out of your mouth. “But—why?  You said it yourself that that version is not me—it’s someone else.  So why are you doing this?  Why not just leave me in peace?”

Mark let out a slow, amused chuckle, shaking his head. “You really don’t get it, do you?  I’m not just here for you because of some twisted nostalgia.  No.” His tone darkened again, becoming more intense, more controlling. “I’m here because I need you.  You’re the one thing that’s missing from my universe.  You are the key to everything.  In my world, you’re the one person who could stop me.  But I need you to see it for yourself.  I need you to understand that what we had... what we could have... it’s the only thing that matters.”

Your eyes widened, and your voice trembling as you tried to process his words. “I don’t understand... you’re talking about me being with you in your world?”

Mark took a step closer, his hand lightly brushing against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “That’s exactly right.  This world is on the brink of collapse, and your fate is sealed unless you come with me.  In my universe, I ruled everything—but I was empty.  You were the one who gave me meaning, who made me feel something other than control.  I need you back.”

Your breath caught in your throat, but there was a part of you that was drawn to him, despite yourself. Why were you still listening? Why weren’t you running?

Mark smiled darkly, as if he could read your thoughts. “I know it’s a lot to take in.  But you’ll understand soon enough.”

“What happened to the me in your universe?” you ask, your voice quiet, unsure of what to expect.  Your heart was still racing, the adrenaline from earlier not yet having faded.

Mark doesn’t immediately answer.  Instead, he looks around, his eyes lingering on the crumbling walls and broken windows.  There’s something almost wistful in his gaze.

“This place,” he finally murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s where things changed for me.” His voice is strangely flat, but there’s a subtle weight behind the words.

You feel a chill run down your spine. “What are you talking about?”

Mark’s jaw tightened as if he was reliving something painful.  For a moment, his usual confident demeanor cracks, revealing a flicker of something darker, a vulnerability that was buried beneath the layers of control he’d built around himself.

He stepped closer, his eyes not quite meeting yours, but his presence unmistakable.  There was a heaviness in the air now—something that felt like it was about to crush you from lack of understanding.

“This is where it happened,” he says quietly, his voice low but edged with bitterness.

You blink, confused. “Where what happened?”

Mark’s lips curl into a thin, almost pained smile, though it’s empty, like it has been worn too many times. He gestures to the space around you—the cold, abandoned warehouse with the dark shadows and faded walls.

“This is where you died in my universe.  Right here.  This place.”

You stare at him, the words hanging in the air like a heavy weight. “What…?” Your voice falters, your heart sinking. “I—died?”

Mark’s eyes meet yours now, his gaze unflinching, but there’s a ghost of something in his eyes. “Yes.  My father killed you.  Right here.  And for me…” He inhales sharply, as if the air itself was too thick to breathe. “That was the moment everything changed.  It wasn’t just the pain of losing you.  It was what it did to me.  I was a different person before that.”

Your mind races as the pieces fall into place.  You can hardly process it, but feel a cold sense of realization creeping in—this moment was the one that had shaped him, the event that tore apart the humanity he once had.  This was the defining moment that turned him into the man he became.

Mark continued, his voice steady, but it’s clear he’s fighting the weight of his past. “My father didn’t just kill you that night.  He broke me.  I was nothing after that.  I tried to move on, but it didn’t matter.  You were gone.  And in that moment, everything that made me human, everything that made me care about anything—it died with you.”

His expression hardened as he took another deep breath. “That’s when I realized that I had to take control.  I had to make sure nothing like that could ever happen again.  No one could ever take anything from me.  No one could ever make me feel like that again. So I… I started my warpath.  I killed, I took what I wanted, and I built my empire.”

There was a long pause.  The silence pressed in on both of you, thick with his admission.  You feel a mix of pity and disbelief, but something else stirred deep inside of you.  You don’t know what to say. How could you?  You were facing a man whose entire existence was shaped by the loss of someone who, in his universe, was so important to him.  Someone who was you. The shock of hearing this leaves you stunned.

“I don’t know what to say…” you started, your voice barely a whisper.

Mark’s face darkens as if he’s bracing himself for your judgment. “I didn’t tell you this for sympathy,” he snapped. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness or your pity.  I’m telling you this because—because I need you to understand.  I’m not the person you think I am.  I’m not that Mark.  I’m not the person who would have loved you without destroying everything else.  I’ve changed, but…”

He trailed off, frustration building in his voice. “But I’m tired of it.  I’m tired of being this person.  I’m tired of pretending this is the only way.  You… you’re the only thing that could ever make me feel different.  You’re the one thing I haven’t destroyed.”

You feel a mix of sympathy and anger—sympathy for the pain he’s endured, and anger at the choices he’s made as a result.  You take a step back, trying to gather your thoughts. “Mark… I don’t know what to say.  I don’t know what you want from me.  But this—this isn't the answer.  You can’t just take control of everything and everyone around you.  You’re not the only one who’s been hurt, you know.”

Mark’s eyes flicker with something almost like vulnerability.  His frustration ebbed, replaced by something more raw. “I know.  I know you’ve been hurt, too.  But everything I’ve done, I’ve done for one reason—to never feel that pain again.  I’m offering you a chance at something more.  I’m not the man you know.  That man—he died here, in this place.  And what’s left... what’s left is a conqueror.  And the truth is for you, you either come with me, or you stay here and die all over again.”

His words swirl in your mind, all the conflicting emotions battling for dominance.  You felt the weight of his gaze, the gravity of the decision, but nothing inside of you felt certain.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “I can’t—”

Mark watched you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a flicker in his eyes. The silence stretches on, and in that moment, it felt like the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for your choice.

"You don’t have to choose," he said suddenly, his voice soft but dangerous. “You already made your decision, in my world—your decision to be mine.”

The air shifts, thickening with the pressure of his words. He steps closer, but this time, there's no teasing, no playful flirty tone—just cold certainty. “You don’t see it yet, but this is the only way.  You think there’s something here worth living for, but this world? It’s already lost.”

Before you can respond, the air around you ripples. The ground vibrated beneath your feet, and an intense light blazed through the shadows of the warehouse.  A swirling, pulsing portal begins to open before them—a rip in the fabric of space, shimmering with the promise of another world.

An amused, twisted smirk pulled at Mark’s lips.  “Well that was good timing.  I guess old Angstrom is sending me home.  I suppose I didn’t do my job good enough for him.”  Your breath catches in your throat as the sight of the portal becomes more real.  The decision is almost physically before you now.  You look between Mark and the swirling vortex, panic rising in her chest. “No, wait—Mark, please! I—”

But before you can finish your sentence, Mark’s hands are on you, pulling you towards him with an almost suffocating force. His grip is firm and unwavering as he holds your against his chest, locking you in place.

“Stop,” he says, his tone surprisingly gentle but commanding. “I don’t have time for you to second-guess this.  I’m not letting you waste your life on this dying world.”

You feel the cold edge of his words sink in, and before you can protest, the air around you cracks with an unnatural sound.  The portal pulsates, growing wider, threatening to consume everything.

Mark doesn’t wait for you to agree.  He doesn’t give you a choice.

He steps backward into the portal, pulling you with him, your feet slipping as the ground seems to disappear beneath you.  In the blink of an eye, everything you knew—the quiet town, the dilapidated warehouse—vanished, replaced by a blur of shifting colors, the world around you twisting and distorting.

And just like that, your world was gone.

【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｔｈｒｅｅ】

[grimmsbride]

touch …. ! ₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣.

mark grayson & rogue!reader ╲ mark grayson doesn’t give a damn what you can do, or how fear hurting him; he would touch you again and again no matter the consequences.

𖥔 ࣪˖ tags⠀⎯ pre-established relationship | angst (ish?) | reader is inspired by rogue from the xmen | given mark is half-viltrumite he doesn’t go into a coma he only passes out for a little | touch-starved reader | suggestive (?) but no smut | mark is cheesy | cute little blurb | fluff

𖥔 ࣪˖ author’s notes⠀⎯ i saw one of my favorite writers do a “starfire!reader” so i was inspired to do something similar with rogue from the xmen given i love her and gambit so much. if this fic is receipted well i may write actual smut about this couple. for now please enjoy and excuse any grammar mistakes <3

A favorite artist of yours murmurs melodies in the background of your bedroom, drown out by the sweet whispers passing between you and your beloved Mark Grayson.

You always enjoyed times like this, simply laying side by side, eyes focused on the other while speaking about anything and everything.

How tiring missions were.

How Mark worried about his mom.

How you worried about your powers.

Nothing was off the table, this little moment in time dedicated to simply catching up with each other.

Your lips curled slowly the moment you felt fingers squeeze around your own, Mark’s digits gliding across your gloved hand whilst your palms pressed against one another’s. You always loved that touch despite the barrier, craving it after a long day.

Since you gained them, you’ve felt like your powers were.. dirty. You didn’t enjoy the looks people gave you when using them, or how some fellow heroes would shy away from you even when wearing your gloves. The outside world didn’t need to remind you how cursed you were, you did so yourself everyday.

But being with Mark, he never saw you as your power, as some weapon used to suck the life out of others. He only ever saw you, his girlfriend that he would do anything for.

Even when that anything was just a little stupid.

You giggled softly at the joke that passed his lips, eyes pinched closed for a moment before popping open when you felt his hand move. The man attempted to be subtle, yet Mark never was; given you could feel his fingers find the sliver of skin between the long sleeve you wore and your glove, allowing the appendages to trace there gently.

Quickly, you slipped your hand from his grasp, eyebrows pushing close as you glared up at the man. ”Mark..” You attempted a stern tone, it faltering the moment you noticed that subtle pout capturing his features. You sighed softly, sinking into the pillow below you.

“You know we—“

“Can’t touch.” The man finished the sentence for you, sinking into his own pillow whilst blinking up at you so lovingly. His fingers clenched the blankets underneath the both of you, lips parting to speak;

“But, a little touch isn’t going to hurt me ya know.”

“Last time we held hands you passed out for five minutes.”

Mark groaned softly, “That was last time— I’ve gotten much stronger since then.” He wasn’t completely wrong. The two of you started dating around the same time he gained his Viltrumite powers. Of course he was rusty at first but he learned, something you would always admire.

You breathed softly as Mark moved closer, your hand reaching over to press against his clothed chest. You flinched the moment you felt his fingers lock around your covered arm, easily maneuvering your hand to press right up against his heartbeat. The gentle pounds of the organ caused you to warm, lips pursing as his name came out of you in a pretty whisper.

At the call Mark was inching even closer, now a breaths away, noses barely grazing each other.

“I don’t want to push you, but I don’t want you to hold back either.” He mused, eyes flicking from your own to drop to your lips. The man’s fingers traced your covered skin, speaking once again;

“I would pass out a million times just to feel you [Name]. Half-Viltrumite or not.”

You struggled to keep your little smile down, fingers crumpling the top he wore. You felt the way his heart raced, knowing your own was doing the exact same. A rhythm perfectly in sync, matched faultlessly.

“Mark..”

“And you have to remember; I’m Invincible.” The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile, watching amusement take over your features— the prettiest laughter escaping your lips. Mark wasted no time in swallowing those giggles, fingers dragging from your arm to breach the glove you wore. Pushing the barrier up further, he could only sigh at the touch.

Slowly, hesitantly you kissed back, a shuddering breath flying through your nose. Whenever you touched someone, feeling their powers or memories enter your body— it felt unnatural. Like some type of intruder that had no place underneath your skin.

But feeling Mark, it was completely different. That usual pit of despair that would enter your stomach was replaced with nothing but warmth, warmth that you could only describe as pure love. Even as his powers circulated through your body, you could only focus on how sweetly he kissed you.

Tenderly and gentle, as if Mark had the power to drain you instead. Maybe he did, maybe he could devour you whole; mind and body— yet you wouldn’t care. Wouldn’t protest, wouldn’t whine..

Mark claimed he would pass out a million times just to feel you. And you would entertain each, no matter the day, no matter the time.

The love you held for him outweighed any curse you believed you had.

Your teeth gently dragged across his bottom lip, feeling Mark groan against you; clearly enjoying the attention. His hand squeezed yours just a little tighter, breathing you in, savoring the taste of your lips.

The sweet lip-locking continued for several moments longer before you felt Mark part from you, or rather his body slump as he slid off your lips.

His head landed on the pillow beneath you, eyes shut closed as soft breaths escaped him. Your eyelids lowered, releasing his hand and pulling your glove firmly onto your own. Reaching over, two fingers pressed against his slightly bruised lips, smearing the combined saliva the moment you swept them.

“Stupid boy..” You mummured softly, no longer able to fight back that smile. Your hand then moved to rest between the two of you, body shifting to find a comfortable position on the mattress.

You expected him to be out for a little, maybe even an hour. You didn’t care though, you would wait for him, every time.

[diejager]

more eldritch:konig X his darling mermaid, please & thank you

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.2

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, breeding kink, protective König, hunting, oviposition, tentacles, eggpreg, stomach bulge, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k

Prev

You hadn’t seen the sun in a while, neither had you gone hunting, nor seen your parents. You missed the freedom you had, swimming and racing the others mers your age through the coral reefs, that mundane, but fun activity you did once in a while when everyone gathered at the same spot.   

“Please, König, I just want to lay in the sun!”

“Nein, the outside world is dangerous, Schatz, ” his tone seemed apologetic, eyes cast down, avoiding your tearful eyes that gleamed beautifully from the bioluminescent plants, “I cannot.”

That was what he always told you, his words repeated on themselves, overlapping in your mind without holding much intent of substance to it. Why would it when all he told you was no? His excuses were getting old, they rarely changed over the few months he kept you in his cave, the little haven you grew to love now became a prison, a pretty cage to keep you locked away from the world you were born into. They always had an aspect in common: danger. He would say that it was too dangerous for you, that there were horrors living around his cave and wandering too closely to the edge you found him, the precipice of light and darkness that he stalked you from. If it wasn’t that, he’d push strongly that you could be taken away from him, caught and eaten by another Eldritch Horror that didn’t have the same obsession and favorability for pretty things like you. 

He slowly approached you, arms reaching out towards you to embrace you, his fingers finding the softness of your hips. Kneading the line between your skin and scales, thumb smoothing over your opalescent scales, the smooth surface of it that helped you swim as swiftly as you could. You were a quick, little mouse, able to outrun him if you put enough effort and intention in it to escape his limbs. You shuddered against him, looping your arms around him for comfort that he never kept from you, often reminding you that he loved you and that he would do anything for you —except give you back your freedom.  

You sobbed, a heart-wrenching cry slipping out of your pout, your glossy lips pulled down while pearly tears floated upwards, the density of your tears weighing less than the heaviness in his cave, a closed-off ocean of horror he painted over with enthusiasm and comfort. He whispered sweet words to you, smaller tentacles slipping under his hood to cradle your face. They acted as individual fingers, holding your face as if they were hands holding your chin up, curling under your jaw and eyes with the smooth side of his limbs, keeping the suckers away from your pretty face. He touched you so gently, careful to never break your skin or dirty the angelic image he had of you in his sickened mind. He wrapped himself around you, his thicker limbs latching onto you with the intention of never letting go, curling and looping around one another. The messy bundles kept you stuck to him as you whined, crying out the frustration and sadness you felt throughout your situation.

“Hush, don’t cry, mein kleiner Schatzi,” he wiped away your tears, and collected them between the suckers of his arms, watching them gleam with an opalescent shine, much like those of black mollusc shells. They were a spectacle, a beautiful thing coming from his precious mate, “We can go out when it is safe, ja?”

You nodded your little head, closing your eyes and nuzzling against his broad chest, the softness of his scarred skin that easily moulded to fit your shape. It was strange how easily he changed to fit your liking, to answer to your whims despite your protest or your reluctance. You couldn’t hate him, you simply couldn’t after all the things he did for you and how well he cared for you. Perhaps you’d fallen for him, falling so deeply in this hole of unwilling darkness and strange affection —your naivety working against your betterment and with his mind, dark and wretched. Despite your wails and frustrations towards König, he was all you had, all you had known for the past months, so you sought comfort and safety from him, unknowingly falling into his plan. 

You let him lead you away from the open entrance, down the wide gate of his - your - room to lay you down, unable to move from the confines of his many arms and the warmth he provided. König was warm, he’d always burned hot compared to the cold waters of the abyss, the swirling vacuum of freezing water that seemed to have no end and the surface that stayed cool despite bathing under the sun for half the day. You thrived on warmth, soaking it up to keep your metabolism going, to be able to function without crashing or slowing down, you needed it and you depended on König to keep you warm. 

He pressed down on you, his broad figure looming over your smaller and fragile one, casting a dark shadow with his sole presence. He brushed your hair away, the tip of his tentacle tickling your ear as he murmured temptation, his wide palms leaving your hips to trail down the curve of your navel, teasing the dilated hole of your core, blinking and oozing out slick. He pressed a finger in, listening to you mewl and squirm in his tight hold, your tail twisting and turning before ultimately bucking into his palm when he slid a second one in. He watched your pretty lips part in a gasp, eyes rolling back in pleasure, your lashes fluttering so prettily for him. You felt him everywhere, he was inside of you and all around you, his many arms working as extensions of his presence, teasing you with his little suckers, pulling and biting at you. 

“Let me ease your mind,” his mask rose over his nose, tentacles parting like curtains to kiss you. It was all teeth and aggression, his kiss turning into a sign of possession, marking you with his taste and scent. He didn’t have any lips, or lips similar to yours, they were flat, hidden by a moustache of tentacles, thinner and shorter than his other ones, “Help you relax.” 

They easily slipped into your mouth as he pumped you, fingers curling into the softer part of your cunt. You mewled, rutting back, walls clamping down on his fingers, their thick and rough textures doing you in with the flick of your swollen nub once he coached it out of its protective sheath. He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulder, letting the cup sag enough to show your pretty nipples, perky and glistening, tempting him to kiss and bite at them. In his rush, he snapped your bra from the middle by the girth of his tentacles, curling around your tits to knead and play with your little nubs, covering them with a sucker and he pulled, the ride closing around it and pulled. You clamped down on him, your slick sticking to his hand as you burst, eyes rolled back so far that all you could see was the white. König admired you, his eyes gleaming with glee at your climax, helping you ride it out with slow pumps of his fingers. He watched your pupils dilate, steadily coming down from your high with laboured breathing.

“You look so pretty like this,” he smiled under his hood, his eyes creasing in the low light. They roved over your face, over your hooded eyes and your parted mouth, down the slope of your neck and the swell of your breasts, and ending at your cunt, your labia closed around two digits, slick and throbbing. “You drive me crazy, Schatz.”

He was panting, his body riled up with how much his many limbs were swaying, latching onto you and hungrily climbing over you. He mumbled incoherent words, his pretty blues turning a bright red, a bloody crimson that made you feel apprehensive, fear and anxiety spiking in your mind despite the pleasurable buzz. You peered down when you felt something nudge your finger-filled cunt, looking at a particular-looking tentacle. It was harder and slick, the tip cylindrical-like with a long shaft and covered in veins, much like the ones on his arm, bulging and throbbing. You were oblivious to its use, confused about the different shape, but once it moved, the leaky head enthusiastically dipping into you, you panicked. 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, the engorged head of his arm pushing into you, guided by a hand, pumping himself to spread the slick and pre that gathered around his cock. You keened, head thrown back when he bottomed out, the veiny girth of his cock throbbing inside of you. His cock rocked into you, pulling out until his tip lingered, and your labia stretched around his thick rod before he rammed in so suddenly. It rocked you as a whole, your smaller figure jerked back with every hard thrust, your cervix feeling the brutality of his strength and devotion. You screamed, writhing in his restrictive hold, cunt battered by a hard, leaky cock with a flared tip, bulbous and smooth. 

“Scheiße, you’re tight,” he groaned out through gritted teeth, feeling your walls stretch as wide as you could to welcome him despite his size and girth, your pussy becoming wet and sloppy with the amount of slick you produced. You pulsed around him, still sensitive from your last orgasm, clit and nipples swollen and twitching under his tentacles. He could feel everything, jolts sent down his arms followed by a euphoric sensation that ran through his mind, leaving him pussydrunk, mumbling out praises, “Du fühlst dich so gut an. Scheiße – so süß, so nass.”

You felt like you would burst, ploughed open by König’s cock arm, warm wall milking and sucking him deeper, coaxing him to fill you up with him. Your lover’s pace grew frantic, snapping harshly and deeply as if to leave a lasting presence in your innermost part, to mould your pussy into the shape of his cock and his alone, rendering you impossible to be pleasured by the sheer size difference between him and others of his kind. With a few precisely, but sloppy thrusts, he had you gushing around him, back arching - as much as you could with his strong grip - pussy clamping down on him as he fucked you into the soft algae-covered surface. You blacked out, euphoria filling your hazy mind, slick dripping down the sides of your tail and your nerves were set alight with blinding fires, burning through you so strongly. 

König swore lowly, his chest rumbling against yours, his cock throbbed and his arm stuttered, pace growing unsteady as the whole length of his arm pulsed with a load of cum. He gave one last thrust, roughly slamming into your gummy cervix, before a rush of cum shot out of his tip, flooding your womb with hot, white cum. It clung to the wall of your womb like glue, coating your cunt in the same adhesive and warm substance. He groaned, nuzzling his face in your bared neck, falling victim to his wandering mouth, biting and lapping at your shoulder and throat. His whole body shook, laboured breaths kissing your sensitive skin as something travelled through the length of his shaft, small bumps varying in size, from small pearls to big grapes, steadily moving towards the flared head of his cock. 

You sobbed when the first egg struggled against the entrance of your womb, breaking through the firmness of your soft entrance. It pained you, the forced pop into your virginal womb that wasn’t made to take in, but push out. Your cries were shushed by König, his reassuring words mixed with his heavy breathing that did little to dampen the pain he put you through. The first egg dropped into your womb, sticking to the walls, and another quickly joined it, plopping down beside it, weighing heavily by every egg, adding to the heaviness inside of you. 

“You’re doing so well,” he brushed away your tears, his thumb gently cradling your cheek, groaning and grunting at the rising eggs and his flared tip unravelling to latch onto your whole cervix, “Just a few more, ja? I am almost done.”

His “a few more” were more so dozens than anything, stuffing you until you bloated slightly. You were exhausted, limbs as heavy as your stomach did, eyes fluttering through your hazy sight, dancing on the edge of sleep and consciousness. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, falling asleep in this moment, you’d wake up from this as if it were a nasty dream, finding yourself in your little cave near the surface of the ocean. Perhaps this was all but a nightmare made up by your anxious and paranoid mind from all the stories you’ve heard from your parents and the elders. You were tired after all, sleeping wouldn’t be so bad to regain all the energy you wasted, and you hoped - that if this was your reality - that König would take care of you for doing this to you, for enrapturing you with all his madness and devotion.

You still missed the sun, the warm rays when you laid beneath it, just over a rock, but it was a far memory, further than you were willing to confess. You’d already grown used to his overbearing presence, his lingering eyes and wandering limbs, keeping one wrapped around your waists, your wrist or on your back, you’d gotten used to ignoring him and his dark eyes, bleeding into your world like the blood that stained the waters when he caught a live fish to feed you. 

He fit you in his schedule, a routine he practised on a daily basis without a fault. You would wake up with a wail, coming all over his tentacle at least twice before he left you alone for the morning. He would go hunting after making sure that you were comfortable on your little perch, returning an hour or two afterwards with enough food for the whole day and a few shiny trinkets to try to appease your sorrowful heart. They were pretty, shimmering and glinting under the bioluminescent light, similar to the pretty pearls and seashells you would collect. Despite his intentions, it only reminded you of a life long gone, one that you unknowingly and willingly gave up when you took his hand that fateful day, condemning you to a life of darkness and solitude. 

Then he’d spend the day with you, caring for your round stomach, rubbing soothing circles on your aching body, gently working the kinks and knots out of you. He provided for you, feeding you, soothing your pains, courting you with gifts and loved you with the entirety of his sickened heart. Your every need was taken care of, your hunger fulfilled, be it shark meat (a rarity for your kind of mermaid), squid or tuna, and your excitement satisfied with his cock, fingers, tentacles or mouth, eager to stuff you full despite your womb being grossly swollen with his progeny. He was fiercely protective, letting you out once in your month-long gestation, giving you the freedom to wander close to the ridge with a long arm wrapped around your waist. He never let you wander too far from him and never without a piece of him attached to you, clinging onto you as if you two were a singular entity —you probably were at this point, his thoughts and words echoing in your mind against your reluctance to accept him. 

“Mein kleiner Schatzi,” he called, laying his head on your shoulder, his hood hanging over you. He forced you on his lap, snuggling up to you as he curled - loomed - over you while he shamelessly let his hands rove over your swollen stomach, feeling the grooves and bumps of his eggs, “You are very round. One more month and we will have little Satansbraten.” [Mischievous child]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @0-ramen-0 @dreamdiaries777 @under-the-dirt @ajadell @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @mushroompasta @skystreamchan @kaelysia @notspiders @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @lilpothoscuttings @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[connorsui]

Baby Blues || Imagine ||

Zayne x Wife! Reader

Note: I apologize for how this fic turned out, but my mind really made me want sum body worship with zayne

It was the middle of the night, and the house was still cloaked in the kind of silence that only settled after everyone else was asleep. You stood alone in the dim light of the bedroom, having just returned from the nursery after putting the baby back down. The weight of exhaustion hung heavy on your shoulders, but it was something else that had drawn you to the mirror—something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

The woman staring back at you was... unrecognizable. The dark circles under your eyes, the weary curve of your shoulders—this wasn’t the same woman who had met Zayne with a carefree smile all those years ago. Nor was it the same woman who had carried the fierce determination of early pregnancy, filled with hope, strength, and the thrill of creating life. No. The reflection that stared back seemed distant, foreign. As if each moment, each day, had taken something from you without giving it back.

Your fingers trembled slightly as they traveled over your skin, pressing at the softness of your waist, the roundness of your thighs, the tender flesh beneath your arms. Every inch felt heavier than it once had, like a reminder of how much had changed. The more you touched, the deeper your frown became. Slowly, almost as if you couldn’t help it, your hands lifted the hem of your shirt, revealing the silvered stretch marks and the small, stubborn bump that still lingered on your stomach—a testament to the life you had brought into the world.

But now, it felt like a stranger’s body. The once-familiar curves that Zayne used to trace so adoringly with his hands now seemed like distant memories. You turned to the side, trying to find something in the reflection that felt like you, something beautiful. You forced yourself to look longer, harder, as if searching for the woman you used to be. But the more you stared, the more all you could see was the evidence of change—change you weren’t sure how to embrace.

Unbeknownst to you, Zayne had arrived home. The door clicked softly as he entered, his footsteps slowly echoing up the stairs as he called your name, but no reply came. Quietly, he made his way toward the bedroom, his heart tightening as he caught sight of you.

The door was left ajar, and there you were, bare except for your underwear, staring at your reflection with sadness and resignation. His voice, soft but edged with concern, broke the silence.

“Love, what are you doing?”

Startled, you glanced at the mirror, catching his reflection before turning around. “Zayne! I... I didn’t hear you come in. When did you get back?”

Your voice faltered. Zayne’s gaze softened as he took in the weight of your expression, the unspoken self-doubt written on your face. He didn’t need an explanation—he already knew.

He stepped forward, his eyes never leaving yours, his voice gentle. " —You don’t have to hide from me, you know." His hand reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I’ve seen you at your best, at your worst... but this?" He paused, looking you over with a mixture of concern and love. "This isn’t something I want you feeling alone about."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words hit deeper than you expected. “I wasn’t... hiding,” you managed to whisper, though you knew he saw through it.

Zayne tilted his head, a small, sad smile forming on his lips. "No? Then why are you looking at yourself like this right now? Like you’re seeing a stranger instead of the woman I fell in love with?"

You glanced away, unable to meet his gaze, your fingers still clutching the hem of your shirt you have removed. "Because… I don’t look like the woman you fell in love with anymore, Zayne. I don’t look like… myself."

His brow furrowed, and without another word, he closed the space between you, his hands gently settling on your waist. "What does that even mean?" His voice was soft, but there was a quiet intensity in it. "You think because your body has changed, I’d love you any less?"

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. “It’s not that I think you’d love me less... it’s just... I don’t feel like the same person anymore. I don’t look the same. I don’t feel ..beautiful.”

He sighed softly, leaning his forehead against yours. "If only you could see what I see."

Slowly, his hands moved to the places you had been examining with self-doubt, his touch gentle but deliberate. "This," he began, fingers grazing your waist, "is where you carried our child. Where you nurtured and gave life. How could that be anything but beautiful?"

Your heart clenched at his words, your voice barely audible. "Zayne..."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his voice lowering. "And these? You’ve always been strong, but now?" He gave a soft, appreciative squeeze. "Now you’re stronger than ever."

“Zayne…”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, trailing his lips up to your neck, each touch slow and full of affection. “And these arms,” he whispered, tracing the soft curve of your biceps, “have held me through everything. There’s nothing about you that I could ever see as anything less than extraordinary.”

Tears welled in your eyes, his words wrapping around you like a protective embrace. You closed your eyes, gripping his arms tightly as the weight of your emotions broke free. "Please, Zayne... You don’t mean all of that..."

Then his voice dropped to a low murmur, full of the quiet intensity that always made your heart race. "Then let me prove it to you," he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Let me show you just how much I mean every word I say."

His hand found yours, gently guiding you toward the bed as his lips continued to press soft kisses along your neck. And as you followed, his touch, his presence, his love enveloped you, reminding you that in his eyes, you were—and always would be—perfect.

[blubunz]

DEEP INSIDE

— sub! old! leon s. kennedy x f! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: grinding, thigh riding, riding, whimpering, hand job, overstimulation, handcuffed... bondage? dacryphilia, tits sucking.

A/N: I hate it when I have to feed myself,, I need to know if there's any old! sub! Leon fic out there, give...give... also I'll write for RE2 Leon soon just don't know when but I will. For now, I hope u guys enjoy old! sub! Leon.

You can see through him, Leon's not that good at hiding himself. Through that frown and that agitated look, you know how expressive he actually is. Face full of sorrow after hearing every bad news, eyes showing concern when someone gets hurt, he tries to hide, but you can see it.

Most people show indifference towards Leon, he hardly has a stable live life, and as he grows older, his yearning for love growing stronger despite his tongue speaking the opposite.

You step into his life and get him to follow you like a dog. Despite his intimidating look, you can see a flicker of vulnerability under those eyes. His younger self never dies, just hidden under the rough layers of what this world had done to him.

You reach out and manage to see that side of him, giving him gentle kisses and kind acts, you look so sincere, so full of affection when he's with you. Leon goes speechless sometimes, acting like a shy puppy when you say something nice about him, he tries to brush it off with a sarcastic remark or some bad jokes, but you touch his heart the way no one else could.

Same goes with sex, some might think he'd be this rough-around-the-edge guy, the look on his face makes it look like he can give you a good time and calling you princess while manhandling you on the bed.

It was like that at first, but you want to see that side of him, the young Leon who used to be so passionate and obedient.

So here you are, grinding your wet cunt against his aching cock, your nail gently sliding his foreskin down, revealing his cute tip leaking just as much as you are. His hands tied behind his back, squeezing and pulling on the bedsheets below.

Leon groans, head tilting back and eyes rolling up, you can see his Adam apple bobbing as he tries to swallow his moans. Leon thinks moaning aren't for older men like him, he's embarrassed, ashamed of being so vulnerable after hiding himself for so long. He wants to act tough, to let everyone know they can't kill him, but it seems that you've broken it.

A long whine squeezes out of his throat — high pitched, breathless and needy. He looks at you through his squinted eyes brimming with tears as you stroke his cock slowly, your hips matching your hand movement as you grind on his bare, hairy thigh.

“Shit— Shit— Mngh!” Leon frantically curses out, hips bucking up to your hand, trying desperately to get you to stroke him properly. “Fuck, fuck! Y-You can't—”

His head rolls all the way back, and you can see his face turning like those anime girls that some guys watch to goon too. Cum trickling out like a fountain, white globs running over your hand, warmth enveloping you as they trail down to his balls, and on the sheets. Honestly you'd play with yourself when looking at that too.

So you did, you took a quick picture of his blissed out face, before resuming your pace on his cock. His cum makes things so much easier to fuck, wetter sounds fill the room with glee.

“No, de-delete tha—aaah...fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—”

He grits his teeth, drool dribbling down his chin and stubble, you can't help but lick it off, trailing to his lips for a sloppy kiss, prying his mouth open so you can hear more of those hidden moans. He looks so different than usual. Brows furrowing upwards as you two lock lips, feeling you bite into his lower lip, soothing it with your tongue and sliding said tongue inside his mouth, swirling around his.

Leon cries, mumbling something about you going faster. He's so cute, trying to threaten you and taking control, yet you're not the one being tied up. You remind him of his place by squeezing the shaft, and your free palm rubbing the tip harshly, making his words turning quick into mewls.

Your own hips moving clumsily, you're so focused on making him cry, you leave your cunt aching and dripping so much. Leon feels how wet you are, and that just makes him react even worse, cock twitching and yearning to be inside you.

"P-Please—" He cries, hips buck against your palm. “W-Want you...t' feel it inside you...” Leon begs, he's pulling the sheets so hard it springs out of the mattress.

“Yeah?” You smile, biting down the juncture between his shoulder and neck, making bruises on his body. “I don't know, though. You seem content with just my han—”

“No, please!” He sobs loudly, and you have a small realization that you've never heard of an old man crying until tonight. “Need y' pussy... wanna feel your wet cunt... wanna make you feel good...”

He looks at you through his tear stained eyelashes, and the sight of him crying makes you want to tease him until he passes out, but that's for another day.

You give in, aligning your dripping cunt to the tip of his cock. You have to hold Leon's thighs down since he just keeps pushing his cock up to try and push it through.

“Relax.” You grin, and that sounds like a mock for him. Your smile falters slightly as you sink down on his hard cock, feeling the curvy shape of it bumping just right there against your weak spot.

Leon moans like a girl, and you force yourself not to moan along because it's not everyday you can hear Leon making all these heavenly noises. You breath out heavily, rolling your hips to take him deeper, finally seated on his cock, his pubic hair scratching against your clit.

You hold onto his shoulders and begin bouncing on him, biting your lower lip to keep quiet, occasionally letting out little grunts here or there. Leon gasps, jaw hanging open as his hips rut into your cunt like the pathetic man he is.

“Y-Yesss!” He's drooling all over, glossy eyes staring up at the ceiling while you bounce on him like never before. “Pussy soooo good! Mngh- hngh—!”

Your tits hover close to him, going up and down rapidly. He can't help but lean forward and take your nipple into his mouth, sucking it like a baby. You groan at that, Leon has never looked so cute sucking a woman's tits like this, lips wrap firmly around the perky bud, cheeks hollow and inside, his tongue is going wild over your nipple, flicking it and rolling it. He keeps his mouth occupied by going back and forth between your breasts, until you pull him back by his hair, earning a moan and a clear silver lining of drool connecting his lips and your tits.

“Can't hear your moans when your mouth is busy, Leon.” You say, resuming your rough pace.

His arms begin to struggle, he knows how to untie himself, but he can't really think when he's this deep inside you, inside your hot womb and in your grasps.

“Hngh! Can't—!” His hips snap up against you. “Can't hold it, pleasepleaseplease! Wanna cum...wanna fucking cum!” He begs shamelessly, the little pride left in his body has shattered into pieces as the wave of lust consumed his mind. All he can think about is releasing his hot load inside you.

“P-Please, pretty please—” He's straight up ugly crying now, snots running down his nose as his face tensed up, his wrinkles visible.

“Yeah, cum in me, Leon. Be a good boy and cum inside—” You pant out, eyes half lidded and looking at him with such a mesmerizing gaze, he can't help but kiss you — but, you instantly push his face off, tugging on his hair one last time to hear his delicious scream as his loads fill your empty womb up, and your pussy tightens around him, his fucked up face is enough to make you cum.

God, he's cumming so much, filling you to the brim with white streaks leaking down where you and him are connected.

You pant, untying him lazily as you lean on his body. His wrists burned from the impact, yet he raises his shaky hands up to hug you close, sobbing a bit more before eventually both of you fall asleep like that.

[impish-baby]

I'm so glad you're alright! Take all the time you need and take care of yourself! I would like to request a fic on a vampire couple and their kidnapped adopted kiddo who can regress into a very small headspace? Like about 0-5? Thank you for your time and do make sure to drink some water today, these days are kinda hot.

Vampire Dad Caregivers x recently turned! Reader Drabble - 🍼🦇

"Oh, I know, I know, little one.." Thoren, moving his fledgling to be cradled against his chest. Quiet echos go through the bond of hungry, hungry, hungry. How cute. But the most precious of all is the occasional love, love, sire.

You had been such a fierce thing at first, clawling and scratching at anything you could reach. Just a misguided child not knowing what's good for them, you're sure to thank both your fathers for taking you under their wings after you've come to your senses a little more. He's certain of that.

Thoren knows that won't be for a long while though, you're nothing more than a fresh babe born into a new world.

"Here.." Your fangs are still coming in, he bites his own wrist before holding it up to your mouth for you to drink from. "There, darling, papa will make sure your belly is full so you can grow up to be a big scary vampire like him." A chuckle, "well, maybe not that scary, I don't think something as cute as you could even frighten a mouse."

It really is adorable watching you eat, if only you wouldn't yank his hair.

"Now, sweetheart.." Thoren grunts, gently trying to pry your hand away from the lock threatening to be pulled from his head. "That's not nice, is it? We don't pull Papa's hair, it hurts." His mother wasn't lying when she said babies can have a ridiculous amount of strength when they want to, your hand has a death grip on him.

"My love, would you fancy a bit of help?"

Rune's lithe figure rises from a shadow dancing along the wall, gracefully coming over to the bed. "You should be wiser than having your hair down around that little devil."

"Don't scold me." Thoren sighs with relief when his partner manages to get his hair free and ties it back for him. Thank the gods. "I thought I'd be safe for one feeding."

"Right.." Rune giggles, stealing you out of the other vampire's arms. "Pup, you have to bully your Papa while I'm here so I can laugh at him! Come on, we're partners in crime, aren't we?" He presses a plethora of kisses across your cheeks, a wide grin splitting his face as you squeal at the sudden affection. "Come on, we can play a little before it's naptime."

(A/N: I hope this was ok, anon!! It's actually freezing where I live- (at least it feels that way.. most of the year it's 110+ here) but thank you for the reminder, I do need to drink more water! ^^)

[lillymmb]

pls can you do an established relationship lewis fic about reader who always has longs hair and goes drastically short and reader & lewis are obsessed w it

New hair, New wife

husband!lewis hamilton x wife!reader

warnings:none

a/n: thanks for the request babe it was so cute to write this bcs i love cutting my hair super short! Srry this is kind of short but I hope you like it!☺️☺️☺️

For as long as he'd known you, your hair had been long, always cascading down your back in soft waves. It had become a signature look for you, the kind of hair that always turned heads. But today, that was about to change.

When I told my husband I was going to cut my hair he probably thought it would just be the ends but looking at myself in the mirror after leaving the salon made me feel like a new person. My new short bob was framing my face perfectly.

The whole process felt surreal. I'd been nervous at first, sitting in the chair, but the stylist was incredibly reassuring, and soon the clippers were in my hair. Every inch that fell to the floor seemed to make my excitement grow.

"Omg who is that" I whispered to myself.

My smile could be seen for miles, I feel like myself like I've never felt before. I felt a sense of freedom like a free bird.

I look for my phone in my bag to text Lewis to pick me up, today we were going to a new Italian restaurant that George recommended to us.

I needed to text Lewis a photo of my new look. “New me. What do you think?”

He replied immediately. “I’m on my way. Don’t move a muscle.”

I couldn’t help but grin as I waited for him to arrive. The anticipation was almost unbearable. The idea of him seeing me like this, in such a drastically different way, made my heart race.

As I waited for him, my excitement and anxiety only increased, our house is 30 minutes from the salon but when my husband showed up in 10 minutes I knew he was serious, I saw the car and every step I took I got more anxious.

Lewis quickly got out of his Ferrari, his smile made me get butterflies in my stomach like I was a teenager when her first crush looked at her in the school hallway. His eyes immediately locking onto me. He froze for a second, taking in my new style, his lips parting slightly.

"Hi baby, you look- Wow" he said, his voice soft but full of awe.

I laughed softly, brushing my fingers through my now-short hair. “You think so?”

Lewis closed the distance between you in two quick steps, his hands gently lifting your chin so he could get a closer look at you. He ran his fingers through the ends of your hair, marveling at the change.

“You look stunning,” he murmured. “But honestly, you always do. You know I’m obsessed with you, right?”

I chuckled, my heart warming. “I don’t mind being your obsession.”

He leaned down, kissing me softly, as if savoring the moment. “I think I’ll have to spend the next few days just getting used to this new look,” he said, his tone playful. “But I have to admit, it’s giving me a whole new level of attraction to you. I can’t stop looking at you.”

I smiled against his lips, enjoying the way he seemed to fall for me all over again. It was funny how something as simple as a haircut could reignite that spark. But I didn’t mind—it was a reminder of how much Lewis adored me, no matter how much I changed.

[thewulf]

Trust in the Tide || Paul Lahote

Summary: Request -Hello!! I loved your forever yours fic!! I was wondering if you could write another Paul Lahote fic where Bella goes to the cullens house and drags her sister Y/N along with. Paul isnt happy about this at all and gets very possessive of Y/N.

A/N: Okay this one is cheeeeeesy but really sweet :)

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Swan Sister Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

TW: Possessiveness, general twilight warnings

On an unusually warm afternoon, with the sun painting the waves in hues of amber and gold, you find yourself lounging on the sands of La Push beach. Beside you, Paul's presence is as comforting as the steady rhythm of the surf. Though known among his peers for his fierce temper and unyielding nature with you he's a different person—gentle, attentive, and uncharacteristically vulnerable.

You've been together for a year now ever since the day he imprinted on you. A single moment that forever changed the course of both your lives. In this year your relationship has blossomed into a deep and passionate connection with you often playing the role of his anchor, the calm in his storm.

As you sit there watching the gulls dance above the waves Paul's hand finds yours, his fingers lacing with yours in a familiar, comforting grip. His other hand brushes away a stray lock of hair from your face tucking it gently behind your ear. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he murmurs. His voice low and warm carrying over the sound of the waves.

You nod while leaning into his side, feeling the solid strength of him. "It's perfect," you agree, allowing yourself a moment to bask in the simple joy of being here with him away from the complexities of your intertwined worlds.

Paul's gaze is fixed on the horizon, but you know his thoughts are never far from you. In these quiet, unguarded moments you see a side of him that no one else does. You see the vulnerability hidden behind the façade of the tough werewolf. It's a side he only shows to you. It makes your heart swell with a mix of affection and pride.

"Thanks for being here, you know," he says suddenly before turning to look at you with intense, sincere eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Your heart flutters at his words. A gentle reminder of the bond you share. "I'll always be here, Paul," you assure him by squeezing his hand. "No matter what."

In these moments with the salty breeze tangling your hair and the sound of Paul's steady heartbeat under your ear you feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Here, with him, you are home.

But your peaceful afternoon is abruptly shattered when Bella, her brow creased with worry but with a knowing smirk on her face, approaches the two of you on the beach. The sight of her alone is enough to tighten Paul's grip around your waist. His body tensing as if bracing for a storm.

"Whenever you aren't with Charlie, you're always here," Bella comments lightly. Trying to ease the tension with a touch of humor as she nods towards the two of you entwined on the sand.

You can't help but smile even as the worry in Bella's eyes belies her playful tone. "Can you blame me?" you reply with gesturing to the serene beach and then to Paul whose presence is a comforting constant in your life.

Paul attempted to lighten the mood despite the tension. He throws a quizzical glance at Bella. "What brings the vampire girl back down to La Push?" he jokes. Trying to elicit a smile but his voice betrays a hint of his underlying concern.

Bella's expression turns serious again as she ignores Paul’s attempt at humor. "It's Alice," she begins. Her voice dropping to a more urgent whisper. "She had a vision... and it involves you, Y/N. It's not clear, but it's serious enough that we think you should come to the house and talk about it."

Instantly, Paul's embrace tightens. His protective instincts flaring up. "No," he says flatly, his voice laced with a protectiveness that borders on aggression. "She’s not going anywhere near those bloodsuckers."

You squeeze his hand trying to calm the storm you see brewing in his eyes. "Paul, if it's about me… I need to know. I need to understand what's happening," you reason. Your voice a soothing counterpoint to his growling tone.

Bella looks between the two of you, her worry deepening. "It’s not clear what it means yet, but Alice saw a conflict... something that might escalate without your intervention. We think Y/N might be a key to preventing it."

Paul’s body is rigid with conflict. The thought of you walking into what he views as the lion’s den. A place where every instinct tells him you could be in danger, is tearing him apart inside. "You don't understand, Bella. I can’t just let her walk into a potential trap," he argues with his voice strained.

You look up at him. Your heart is aching at the pain and fear etched in his features. "Paul, I need to do this. Not just for me but for all of us. If there’s even a chance that my being there could help prevent a bigger conflict, we have to take it." Your voice is firm. Carrying the weight of your resolve. "I’ll be okay. I went to school with them, remember? They'd never harm a hair on my head."

Seeing the agony in his eyes you reach up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I promise Pau, I'll come home right to you. Just wait for me, okay?"

Paul's face is a mask of conflict. He’s torn between his fierce instinct to protect and his deep trust in you. "It's not you I don't trust, you know that," he says, his voice tense. "It's them. It's walking you right into their world... without me even being able to be there to protect you."

You nod understanding his fear. "Paul, I'm Bella's sister," you remind him gently by playing to his more rational side. "They've known me almost as long as they've known her. They'd never hurt me. And this could help everyone. The pack even. Your brothers and sister. It could prevent a bigger conflict. Isn't that worth it?"

He looks out towards the sea, his jaw clenching as he processes your words. "And I can't even escort you there..." he mutters with frustration lacing every word.

With pleading eyes, you look back at him. "I need you to trust me on this," you say softly. "Trust that I'll be okay."

Paul stares into your eyes searching for something that might make this easier. Finally, with a guttural sigh, his resistance crumbles. "Alright," he murmurs. His voice rough with suppressed emotion. "But I’m holding you to that promise. You come straight back to me. Please." He adds with a soft smile.

You grin while squeezing his hand tightly ever so grateful for his trust and understanding. "I will, Paul. I promise." Sensing the weight of the moment you step closer to him before wrapping your arms around his neck. You press a lingering, tender kiss to his lips. A promise of your return sealed with the sweetness of your affection.

As you pull away your eyes lock with his communicating a depth of love and reassurance. "Wait for me," you whisper. It’s a soft plea mixed with a firm promise. He agrees. His expression a mix of resolve and vulnerability. The hard lines of his face softening at your touch.

With one last look you turn and follow Bella to her truck feeling the weight of Paul's gaze on you like a protective cloak. As you climb into the passenger seat and the truck pulls away his figure remains etched against the horizon. A silent sentinel watching over the path you'll return by.

As the truck bumps along the familiar forested road leading to the Cullen house Bella steals a few glances your way her earlier worry momentarily replaced by a hint of curiosity. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable but it's filled with the unspoken acknowledgment of the distance that has grown between you two. Yet, today, as the trees blur past there’s a tentative bridge being built in those stolen glances.

“You seem really happy, Y/N,” Bella finally says. The words careful but genuine. She adjusts her grip on the steering wheel focusing on the winding road but clearly intent on your response.

Your heart swells at the mention and you can't help but nod enthusiastically. “I am, Bella. Paul... he’s been amazing,” you reply. Your voice tinged with undeniable joy. “He’s so kind to me, you know? In ways that people don’t always see.”

Bella smiles, a soft, understanding smile that reaches her eyes. “I can tell. He looks at you like... like you’re his whole world.” Her tone is reflective, possibly recalling her own complex relationships. “It’s really nice seeing you so taken care of. Makes me feel less worried about dragging you into our... mess today.”

The road smooths out as you approach the Cullen’s long driveway and you let out a small, contented sigh. “Thanks, Bella. I know it’s a lot, with everything going on. But being with Paul, it feels right. Like I’m where I’m supposed to be.” You turn to her with a bright grin spreading across your face. “And don’t worry about today. We’ll handle it just like we handle everything else.”

Bella nods, her expression mixing relief with a bit of admiration. “I’m glad, Y/N. And I’m glad he’s good to you. We all need that… someone who makes us feel like coming home.”

The conversation lulls as the imposing structure of the Cullen house comes into view with its vast windows reflecting the cloudy sky above. Today might be filled with uncertainties but your heart holds on to the warmth of the conversation, the shared smiles, and the reassurance of your sister's concern, making you feel ready for whatever lies ahead.

As you step into the cool, grand interior of the Cullen house the atmosphere is charged with a mix of anticipation and tension. The Cullen’s are all present. Their expressions ranging from curious to concerned. Alice steps forward first with her slight frame contrasting the intensity of her gaze.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N," Alice says sincerely. "I know this isn't easy."

You nod feeling the weight of the situation but bolstered by the earlier conversation with Bella. "Let's just get to the bottom of this, Alice. What exactly did you see?"

Alice describes her vision in greater detail explaining that it involved a confrontation that could escalate tensions not just within Forks but potentially with other vampire groups. Your presence, she suggests, might symbolize a commitment to peace that could soothe rising fears.

Edward, ever the voice of reason, interjects thoughtfully. "I’ve given this some thought. Perhaps there's a way to communicate our intentions without requiring Y/N to be directly involved. We could send a message through Carlisle to the other leaders, clarifying our stance and our commitment to peace. Getting the pack involved this early seems… unwise." His soft smile towards you is comforting and you give him a quick nod back agreeing with his stance.

Jasper, who has been quietly assessing the mood, adds, "And I can reach out to my old contacts. They trust my judgment. If I explain the situation and our peaceful intentions it might help calm any unrest."

You listen to each suggestion feeling a sense of relief that there might be solutions that don't require you to be more involved than necessary. "Both sound like good plans," you agree. "My being here today is a show of good faith and hopefully that's enough. Showing that we're united in wanting peace might be the strongest message we can send."

Carlisle nods in agreement. His expression one of gentle authority. "I think that's wise. We appreciate your willingness to help, Y/N, and your insight has been invaluable. But let's minimize risk where we can."

Esme with her nurturing demeanor smiles warmly at you. "And we're here to support you not to make demands. Let's proceed with those ideas and keep communication open. Should we need you we know how to get ahold of you." She gestures to your sister who was looking more and more relieved.

As the meeting begins to wind down and everyone seems to agree on the proactive steps to take, Emmett can't resist lightening the mood. He leans slightly closer to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and pretends to sniff the air dramatically. "Y/N, you know I love you, but you kind of stink like wet dog today," he says with a broad grin, clearly teasing.

You can't help but laugh, shaking your head at his typical goofiness. "Emmett, you really never change, do you?" you reply. The laughter making your words light and easy.

Rosalie who was standing beside him rolls her eyes affectionately at her husband's antics but smiles at the exchange. It's clear they all value the levity Emmett brings, especially in tense situations.

"Hey, I'm just saying, maybe a little vampire sparkle wouldn't hurt," Emmett chuckles, winking at you.

As you leave the Cullen house, chuckling over Emmett's playful banter, you feel a genuine warmth from the exchange. It's moments like these in the middle of the gravity of supernatural politics that remind you of the strange yet comforting friendship you've found with the Cullen’s. They might be vampires, but their familial bonds and moments of humor aren't so different from what you find at home with Paul and the pack.

As Bella's truck pulls up to the familiar surroundings of La Push you can already see Paul waiting by the road, his posture tense with anticipation. The moment the truck stops he's at the door pulling it open with a haste that speaks volumes of his anxiety and relief.

"You're back," Paul breathes out. His voice thick with emotion as he helps you out of the truck. His hands are gentle but firm, as if he needs to physically feel that you're safe and sound.

"I'm back, just like I promised," you reassure him by reaching up to touch his face, feeling the rough stubble and the warmth of his skin. His eyes search yours looking for any sign of distress instead relaxing when he sees your calm demeanor.

Before you can fully turn to Paul you remember Bella, still seated in the driver’s seat, watching the exchange with a small smile. "Thanks, Bella. For everything today," you speak while giving her a grateful look.

Bella nods, her eyes softening. "Of course. Take care, you two," she replies. Her voice carrying a hint of relief at seeing you safe and sound with Paul.

Paul who was not one to hold grudges where your safety is involved, nods at Bella. "Thanks for looking out for her," he adds. His tone sincere despite the underlying tension of the day.

With a final wave Bella starts the truck again before pulling away from the curb as you turn back to Paul. His arms are already open, ready to pull you into a secure embrace. "I was worried, you know," he admits once Bella's truck has disappeared from sight, his voice low, almost a whisper against the breeze. "Every minute felt like an hour. But I trust you. I should have remembered that you can handle anything."

You smile softly as you were touched by his concern and his admission. "I know you were worried, and I love you for it," you say while pulling him close for a hug. "But I also knew everything would be okay. We had to make sure of that."

Paul nods, his expression softening as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. "I'm sorry for doubting. It's just hard when I think about anything happening to you."

"Nothing happened, Paul. And I had to go today to keep it that way," you explain, hoping he understands the importance of your actions today. Not just for yourself but for the peace it might ensure.

Paul takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling under your hands. "I get it now. I do. And I'm proud of you, Y/N. Really proud." His words are sincere and filled with a new respect for your judgment and your strength.

The two of you stand there for a moment, just holding each other, the sound of the waves in the background a soothing soundtrack to your reunion. Paul's hold tightens briefly as if reaffirming his promise to always be there for you.

"Why don't we just sit here for a while?" Paul suggests, gesturing towards the beach. "Enjoy the quiet and each other's company. No rush, just us." You grin, grateful for the peaceful end to an eventful day. Settling back onto the sand you lean against him feeling truly at home in his embrace. As the sun begins to set it painted the sky in fiery hues. You savor the moment of calm, the simple joy of being together.

As the evening air grows cooler and a gentle shiver passes through you Paul notices immediately. With a concerned furrow of his brow, he shifts closer, his arms reaching out to you. "Hey, come here," he says softly while pulling you gently towards him. Before you know it you're settled comfortably in his lap. His warmth enveloping you like a protective cloak.

Wrapped in his embrace you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of safety and love. Paul's hands rub your arms gently, generating warmth, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "Better?" he asks. His voice a soothing rumble in his chest.

"Much," you reply leaning back against him, feeling his heartbeat steady and reassuring against your back. The sound of the waves, the starlit sky, and Paul's presence combine into a perfect ever peaceful moment.

Paul kisses the top of your head gently. An affirmation of his feelings. "I love you. You know that?" he murmurs into your hair. His voice carrying a weight of sincerity. "Not just for being so strong today, but for every day. For being you."

Your heart feels full. His words lifting you even further into a state of bliss. "I love you too, Paul. So much," you whisper back, turning slightly to catch his eye. The look he gives you is filled with adoration and a promise of infinite tomorrows.

As the evening chill sets in and you snuggle deeper into Paul's embrace his heart swells with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. Under the vast, starlit sky, as he feels your steady breathing against him Paul's thoughts drift towards the future. A future he envisions vividly with you by his side.

Holding you close, his mind fills with images of similar nights, perhaps a little house of your own nearby where the sounds of the ocean can lull you both to sleep. He imagines lazy mornings with you, shared laughter, and quiet evenings just like this one. Each moment reinforcing the bond between you.

"You know," Paul whispers while breaking the comfortable silence. His voice tinged with a mix of wonder and conviction, "I feel like the luckiest guy on earth to have you. Every day with you feels like a promise of something great."

You look up at him, touched by his sincerity and the soft look in his eyes. "And I feel like the luckiest girl," you respond. Your voice soft. "I can't wait for all those days, Paul."

Content in the quiet night wrapped in each other's arms the world seems to stand still. Eventually, as the night deepens and the chill of the air becomes more pronounced, Paul's concern for your comfort reasserts itself. "Let's get you home before you turn into an ice cube," he jokes lightly. But his care is evident in the way he helps you to your feet and keeps you close as you walk to his car.

When you arrive at your doorstep Paul pulls you into one more long, lingering kiss. This one filled with promises and plans. "See you tomorrow, love. Dream of us," he says as he finally, regretfully, pulls away.

As you watch him drive off his earlier words echo in your heart filling you with warmth and a deep, unshakeable sense of belonging. You step inside already counting the minutes until you see him again, secure in the knowledge that what you have is once-in-a-lifetime. Tonight has not only brought you closer but has also cemented a future you are both eager to build together. One beautiful day at a time.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @hollyplake

[loveln4]

Can I request like a max verstappen fic with jealous max with a happy ending ? Just really whatever you feel like , thank you so much and I recently found your account and absolutely loved your works, stay safe 🤍

Thank you!!

Stay safe as well 🩷

as requested:

JEALOUS MUCH?

MAX VERSTAPPEN x CHILDHOOD FRIEND!READER

synopsis: Max is surprised by his childhood friend in Abu Dhabi. The last time they were together wasn’t ideal, has times changed?

WARNINGS: sexual tension, body kissing, teasing, licking…, head(female receiving), orgasm, fingering, vulgar language, jealousy durhhhh, piv sex, safe sex, fluff ayeee

Max had crossed the finish line, concluding the 2023 season. Cheers erupted from the grandstands and the garage, but this was all inevitable.

Everyone had known that he was going to win the race, hell everyone knew he was going to be the world champion.

He jumped off his car, cheering as if this wasn’t his nineteenth win this year. Heading toward his team he noticed someone out of place.

Taking off his helmet as he approached, looking down at her, “What are you doing here?” He was breathless. Why? It could be the race…or even because of the tragically beautiful sight in front of him.

His team patting him on the back, saying their congratulations but his eyes were locked onto her. The last time they had seen each other in person, things didn’t go down the way they would’ve liked.

“I’m here to see you.” She yelled over the cheers, “Congrats, Max.” She looked devilish in the night light, forbidden thoughts rushing to his head.

“I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” He looks back, seeing it’s time for him to get interviewed, “Meet me in my drivers room.” Before he could walk off someone had grabbed his arm.

Christian Horner was stood beside her, his hand stopping Max from walking away, “You treat this girl with a nice dinner, no clubbing until later.” He whispered into Max’s ear cautiously, “Too much cameras, you need to keep whatever this is professional until we talk to PR.”

“Yeah, yeah.” This caution made Max roll his eyes. Y/n and him were just friends, but the night they shared 6 months ago begged to differ.

“Max…” She moaned as he kissed her body gently, “Please.” Y/n whined as he started to strip her dress off her body.

He silenced her with a kiss, tasting the faint alcohol that she drank at dinner, “Be patient.” Max whispered against her lips.

Max went down toward her abdomen, leaving kisses and teasing her, licking up from her stomach to her chest.

Y/n’s legs clamped shut hoping for friction. Max laughed against her skin, entertained by the pain he’s causing her.

The door clicked shut behind him as he entered his drivers room. It was small, only housing a small couch, a fridge, a table and a tv mounted on the wall.

“Hey.” He greeted his friend who helped herself to a redbull from the mini fridge.

“Hi.” She took a sip, offering the can to Max, he takes it. “So, world champion…what’s the plan for tonight?”

This made him close his eyes, imagining her bare body on his bed just a few months ago. “Uh, dinner?” He asks her.

Nodding with a smile, “I was thinking a club? But if you want to have dinner first— I mean you’re probably starving, right?” Y/n stands and grabs her bag, “I’ll wait for you outside by the exit, take your time, you know? Talk to your engineer or whatever.”

She closed the door behind her, her mind reeling. His scent addictive and musky, reminding her of the night everything changed.

Her gasps were short and shallow, making Max hard through his trousers. He kissed and nipped at her core, causing her to shudder with every flick of his tongue.

She had tasted so good on his tongue that when she eventually had come undone, with a whine, he didn’t slow. Max held her down as she tried to escape from his mouth, “Max!” She cried in pleasure, this pleasure slowly turned into overstimulation as he stuck two fingers in her causing her to groan and gasp trying to push his head away, though he was to strong for her to do anything about the great amount of pleasure he was giving her.

After the second orgasm he stopped pumping his fingers into her and removed his mouth from her clit, though the flicking of his tongue was replaced with slow, painful circles endured by his thumb.

“You taste so good.” He whispered as he laid his head upon her stomach that was moving rather quickly as she tried to steady her breathing.

When Max was finally ready to celebrate his win and leave the track he found Y/n talking to another driver by the exit.

Y/n had laughed and grabbed Charles’ forearm . This filled Max with jealousy.

“Charles.” He coldly said, “Going out tonight?” He questioned him.

“Uh—planning to.” He replied, his smile faltering.

Y/n was no fool and could tell how the air shifted between them three, “Max should we go?” She asks, placing her hand on his bicep, “It was nice seeing you again, Charles.”

Charles bid them farewell as they now find themselves walking to Max’s car. Upon entering, Y/n could tell he wasn’t happy and the way Max slammed his car door just confirmed her suspicion.

“Don’t start slamming shit.” She warned as she buckled her seatbelt.

“The fuck, you telling me to do with my car?” He bit back as he did the same, buckling his seatbelt and turning the car on, the engine revving loudly.

Y/n had unbuckled her seatbelt and started collecting her bag from the bottom of the passenger seat, “Fuck you.” She said as she opened the car door but max didn’t allow her to exit as he reached over her and slammed the door shut keeping her inside.

“Look, i don’t want you talking to him when I’m not around.” He said as he started to slowly reverse out of his parking spot, “Put your seatbelt on.”

She listened to him and put the belt around herself, “Okay, dickhead. Charles and I were just catching up from the last time we saw each other.”

“You guys used to date.”

“Yeah, back when we were sixteen.” She huffed and crossed her arms, “Aww, little Maxie is jealous.” She stifled her laugh as she turned her head away from his face.

This remark caused Max to gain speed as he drove on the highway, “Don’t put me in a bad mood.” He warns.

“What’re you gonna do? Fuck my brains out again?”

This left them in silence for the rest of the car ride until Max parked the car and turned off the engine. “I thought we were gonna leave that in the past.” He turned to her.

“Kind of hard to so when you look at me like that.” She whispered to him.

Max looked up at y/n as she sat on his lap. Pure love and lust blinding each other.

His hard had filled her completely, earning soft moans and grunts from Max every time she moved her hips just a little bit.

“Y/n.” He whimpered her name as she started to move her hips up and down. His hands finding her soft skin, rough hands fitting perfectly. Max’s breath shuddered when she went a little faster, bringing herself down on him harder each time. He rested his head on her breasts, groaning as his cum emptied out of his tip, the condom collecting it.

They had laid on the bed together, tangled limbs keeping each other warm.

What they didn’t know is that the next day their whole relationship would change.

Max and Y/n had walked into the dimly lit restaurant together, earning looks from others eating dinner. Little kids waving at Max as they past by tables before getting seated in a small corner, tucked away from everyone else.

“Remember when we first came here?” Max questioned the girl who had been silent since exiting the car.

“No.” She lied as she flicked through the menu, “Why?” Y/n asked as she looked up at him through her lashes.

He nodded, clenching his jaw. “We came here for your birthday.”

“Huh,” She says, boredom creeping in her tone, “I don’t remember that.”

A waiter comes and pours them wine, he takes their orders and leaves with a flirtatious smile toward y/n.

“Fucking hell.” Max whispers harshly as Y/n eyes the waiter up and down, “You could do better.”

“Probably, but if better means you— i think i’ll stick with the waiter.” Y/n takes a sip of her wine, “Wait, i do remember this place.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, this was the place where Charles and I fucked for the first time when we got back to the hotel.” Y/n smirked as she took another sip, “Great wine, no?”

“Let’s go.” Max demanded as he stood up from his seat and took out a couple of notes placing them on the table, “Get up, Y/n”

“You heard what Christian said.”

“Stop being fucking difficult, Y/n.” He walked off leaving y/n with no other choice but to follow him.

Once they got outside and far from the restaurant she finally yelled at him for his attitude, “You started this shit!” She turned him around as they got to the car, “I’m here to see you! To spend time with you, Max!” She sniffs as she wraps her arms around herself, “I wasn’t here to fight with you! I’m here to tell you that i love you.” She whispers as she finally hears what she’s saying.

This was bottled up in y/n for years. She had always pushed it down as Max got a new girlfriend or flirted with every other girl that had come his way, constantly pushing y/n away.

“Fuck it.” He carelessly said as he turned her around and pushed her against the car, claiming her lips with his. He was hungry for her, his hands gripping her body like he genuinely needed her to survive.

The kiss broke as they stared at each others eyes, a small smile working its way up to y/n’s mouth, “What?” Max laughs as he kisses her smiling lips, “Find this funny, huh?” He questions as he kisses her neck, “Get in the car.” Max whispers in her, eager to love her for the rest of the night.

God, hopefully for the rest of their lives.

A/N: rawr spicy…hope you liked it.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[maxtermind]

Congrats to my favorite writer for 3k!!! I’d like to request an oscar fic with the prompt ᯓ★ “why did you have to come back? why? i was doing so well without you.”. I’m a sucker for angst 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

“why did you have to come back? why? i was doing so well without you.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one who got away or the one who came back? depends on him. ★:feat:: doctor!oscar piastri x ex!reader ★:genre:: fluff and uh hurt/comfort; loved incorporating texts in this

You hum softly, swaying your hips as you slice the vegetables, the rhythm of your body completely at odds with the frantic pace of your hands. They work quickly, hasty and dangerously, the blade flashing with each chop.

The process continues as you pick up different vegetables, chopping them carelessly while moving your body to the slow music playing in the background.

"Baby," a groan interrupts the calm as you feel Oscar's hands slide against your waist, his touch firm and grounding. "How many more times do I have to remind you?"

You immediately relax, letting out an exaggerated huff as your lover attempts to take the knife from your hand. "What if you got hurt, huh?"

You feel his warm breath against your neck, the warmth from his body comforting and familiar. His fingers pinch the skin of your arm when you stubbornly hold onto the knife.

"Be careful," Oscar murmurs again, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I just got home, and I’d rather not be in the ER again tonight." His voice is teasing, but the stern edge in his tone is unmistakable.

You laugh softly, nudging him with your elbow before pressing a quick peck to his lips, earning a throaty hum from him. "This isn’t my first time cooking, Osc."

"Uh-huh," Oscar says with a smirk, his arms tightening around your waist in warning. "Wouldn’t be your first time cutting your hand either. So, excuse me if I’m a little—"

You cut him off with a roll of your eyes, your tone playful. "Well, if I do cut myself, at least I’ve got the best doctor in the world here to fix me up."

He gently turns you so you're facing him, his hand setting the knife safely aside. "Yeah, no," he says seriously, his eyes locking onto yours before flicking to your lips.

Oscar's lips curl into a soft, boyish grin as you gasp at the way he kissed you softly. "I’d prefer you not get hurt at all."

"Okay, fineee," you tease, ignoring the warmth blooming in your chest at his words. You reach up for another kiss, your lips finding his insatiable ones for the third time. "No ER trips tonight."

"Thank goddd," your lover mocks your tone, letting out an exaggerated 'oof' when you smack his chest. Then, with a similar undertone, he pouts, "Now, before you test my medical skills—"

"Y/N L/N!" a sharp voice cuts through, yanking you back into the present. Shaking your head to gain concious.

You blink, the frustration in the nurse's tone making it clear that this wasn’t the first time she’d called your name.

You flush in embarrassment, clutching your hand tightly in a kitchen towel stained deep red. The stinging pain is sharp, but the numbness in your chest is more overwhelming.

You rise, cradling your injured hand, and follow the nurse down the hospital corridor. Your eyes flit across the walls, the fluorescent lighting casting an unflattering glow on the familiar surroundings- the very hospital where Oscar works.

It didn't even register to you that you were driving to this hospital in your panic induced state. Months after he walked away from your life as if you were nothing. Nothing to him.

The nurse leads you into a small examination room, handing you a clipboard with paperwork. You sigh, juggling the clipboard awkwardly with your injured hand, wincing as the pain flares up again.

The door swings open behind you, and you glance up, only to freeze.

What the fuck. Genuinely.

Your ex-boyfriend stands in the doorway, clipboard in hand, wearing his white coat and a look of professional composure that falls apart a bit the moment he raises his head, freezing as his eyes land on you.

Oscar's gaze flicks to your hand, and the worry is instant, etched into every line of his face as he immediately springs into action.

“What happened?” he asks, stepping closer, his voice soft but urgent, reaching forward to touch your hand.

You stammer, caught off guard. “I- uh, cut myself? Cooking.”

His jaw tightens as he gently takes your injured hand, his touch as careful as ever. You stop breathing at the contact.

His fingers graze yours, and for a fleeting second, the sterile white room feels like that night in the kitchen- like you’re still his, like he’s still yours.

“You didn’t think to be careful?” he murmurs, echoing his words from that night. His tone is heavier now, layered with hurt and something you can’t quite name as he's pushing you to sit down.

You try to joke, to lighten the suffocating weight in the air. “I was just fancying a trip to the ER.”

He doesn’t laugh. His stoic face makes your weak smile drop. Of course, he wouldn’t laugh. This wasn’t your boyfriend standing here- it was a doctor treating a stranger.

Fuck, that hurt.

Oscar’s focus is entirely on your hand as he examines the wound. “You need stitches,” he says quietly, his voice steady but his brow furrowed. “You’re lucky it’s not worse.”

The tenderness in his care makes your throat tighten. He hasn’t changed- not in the ways that mattered right now anyway.

“Oh,” you manage, your voice softer than you intended.

He glances up, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There’s a storm of emotions there- worry, pain, and something achingly familiar. For a moment, it feels like he might say something more, but instead, he turns away to grab supplies.

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, as he stitches your hand. You feel his familiar warmth, but the distance between you feels insurmountable. Finally, you can’t take it anymore.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” you say roughly, your voice trembling slightly, irritation masking your vulnerability.

Oscar's eyes flicker to yours, holding your gaze for a moment before returning to the wound. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says softly, his tone laced with a kind of sadness that makes your chest ache.

It hurts- the thought that he’s just acting out of duty, the same way he would for any other patient. Still, you swallow hard, drowning in your unnecessary feelings. “It’s just a cut.”

“No, it’s not,” he counters, louder and sharper now, pausing his work to look at you fully. “You could’ve done some serious damage. What were you even doing?”

“Cooking,” you reply again, your voice small. Surely, he doesn’t get mad at other patients like this, right?

A sick satisfaction blooms in your chest that makes you cringe. This man is just doing his job, and here you are, analyzing him like a lovesick fool.

His jaw clenches, and he lets out a soft, humorless laugh. “Of course. You didn’t throw away that stupid knife, did you?”

His words make your eyes narrow. He has no fucking right to ask that- not after he’s the reason behind your lonely nights.

Fuck him.

God, you really wanted to fuck him. Ugh.

Oscar clears his throat, his own eyes narrowing when they meet yours. It stokes your anger.

“Why do you care?” you whisper-shout, your voice hoarse.

His hands still for a moment, hovering over your stitched hand. He doesn’t look at you when he says, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Your breath catches, and the room feels too small, too heavy. “You don’t have to pretend anymore,” you say quietly, tears welling in your eyes. “We broke up, remember?”

He finally meets your gaze, and the hurt there is raw, unguarded. You don’t know why he’s hurt over you speaking the truth.

“I remember,” Oscar snaps, his voice barely above a whisper as he takes a shaky deep breath. “I remember holding you in the kitchen and telling you to be careful with that fucking big knife, day after day, because I was so afraid of it hurting you.”

Tears sting the back of your eyes, but you blink them away. “It didn’t hurt me like you did,” you say, your voice breaking. How the hell was your chest hurting more than your hand?

Oscar looks like you’ve punched him, and it makes you ache worse. The fact makes you furious with yourself.

Why the fuck are you aching over the man who dropped your heart on the floor of your apartment like it was garbage?

“I know,” he murmurs, taking a deep, shaky breath, his composure breaking. “But that doesn’t mean I stopped caring. It doesn’t mean I don’t still- ”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “Don’t say it. You don’t get to fucking say it.”

Oscar lets out a breath, his hands falling to his sides. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, and his voice cracks in a way that shatters you. “For everything. For letting us fall apart. For not fighting harder. For not- ”

“I don’t care,” You cut him off again, your own tears spilling over now.

His expression softens, the walls he’s been holding up crumbling fully. “Baby,” he says, and the vulnerability in his voice spreads like electricity through your tired body, making you shudder.

“Stop, please,” you gasp, your voice barely audible. “You don’t get to call me- ” You can’t even say it out loud, and it makes you feel pathetic. “Not after you just fucking left.”

Oscar clears his throat as he nods and looks down at your hand, his professional mask slipping back into place. “The stitches are done. You’ll need to keep them clean, and don’t- ”

“I know,” you cut him off as he wraps your hand in gauze. As soon as he steps away to take his gloves off, you stand.

“Y/N,” he sighs. “At least let me drive you home pl- ”

But you’re already out the door, tears streaming down your face, the ghost of his touch burning on your skin.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[simplygojo]

"Double the Pleasure, Double the Pain"

a.n. ⸺ Hey y'all, I've been excited for this short fic, requested by the lovely @takuma-talkz! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for requesting! <3

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing ⸺ Ino Takuma x f!reader x Kento Nanami

Word Count ⸺ 2K

Kinktober Taglist ⸺ @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings ⸺ 18+ SMUT, MDNI, threesome, spanking, face-fucking, hair pulling, nicknames, brat taming, rough sex.

The night had begun innocently enough, the three of you hanging out at Nanami’s apartment, but as the hours passed and the wine flowed, a simmering tension coiled between you, ready to snap. 

Now, you found yourself sandwiched between the two of them, heart racing and anticipation building as the atmosphere shifted from playful banter to something far more charged.

Ino leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “You really thought you could tease us all night without consequences?” 

His fingers danced along your thigh, tracing the delicate fabric of your skirt. The thrill of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, daring him to continue.

Nanami’s expression was a mix of amusement and discipline, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. 

“You’ve been quite the brat tonight, haven’t you?” He said, his voice low and gravelly, sending a delicious thrill through you. You smirked, defiantly meeting his eyes, but the challenge didn’t go unnoticed.

In one swift motion, Nanami’s hand gripped your chin, pulling your gaze upward to meet his intense stare. 

“You think you can test our patience?” He asked, a hint of a growl in his voice, his grip firm but not painful, just enough to assert his control. His other hand moved to his belt, expertly unbuckling it with a practiced ease that sent a thrill of anticipation through you.

“Let’s see how long you can keep that mouth shut,” he murmured, the promise of discipline lingering in the air. He pulled the leather strap free, holding it up as if it were a weapon of seduction.

“Good girl,” Ino purred, leaning in closer. “I think it’s time we remind you who’s in charge.”

As Nanami’s hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently but firmly, your breath caught in your throat. 

He maneuvered you so that your wrists were presented before him, the cool metal of his belt buckle glinting in the dim light. 

“This will help keep you in line,” he said, wrapping the belt around your wrists and securing it snugly, leaving you helplessly restrained. 

The soft leather felt rough against your skin, and the rush of being bound sent a thrill coursing through you.

Your breathing quickened, a mix of excitement and arousal flooding your senses. 

“What if I like being a brat?” You challenged, trying to sound confident despite the vulnerability you felt. 

But as you glanced between the two men, the heat in their gazes sent another wave of anticipation rushing through you.

Ino chuckled, the sound low and intoxicating. 

“Oh, you’ll like it even more once we’re done with you.” His palm connected with your ass in a sharp smack, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through you. 

“Now, how many times do you think we’ll have to remind you to behave?”

Nanami’s grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back. 

“I suggest you take this seriously. We both know you’ve pushed your luck.” His voice was a steady murmur, as if he were simply stating a fact, and it made your stomach flutter with excitement.

Ino’s fingers danced over the exposed skin of your thighs, drawing circles that ignited flames of desire. 

“You like that, don’t you? Knowing we can do anything we want with you?” His voice was silky, laced with a hint of danger. 

“I can’t wait to see how you react when we really push you.”

With that, Ino's fingers ghosted higher, teasing just at the edge of your heat, while Nanami's grip on your throat tightened slightly, a reminder of just how much control he had over you.

You could feel the heat pooling in your core, and you fought the urge to grind against Ino’s hand, desperate for friction.

“Please,” you whimpered, the word escaping before you could think.

“Please what?” Nanami challenged, his voice dropping an octave as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“Use your words.”

“Please... I want more,” you gasped, the heat in your cheeks deepening as you let the vulnerability wash over you.

“Good girl,” Nanami said, satisfaction colouring his tone. 

“You’ll get what you want, but only when we decide.”

Ino chuckled, and you could see the gleam of mischief in his eyes. “You’re going to have to work for it, though.”

As Nanami’s hold on your throat eased, his fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, while Ino’s hands explored the curves of your body, squeezing and pulling in all the right places. 

The dual sensations left you gasping, your body arching toward their touches, wanting nothing more than to be completely consumed by them.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Nanami suggested, his tone commanding.

Without hesitation, they guided you down the hall, the anticipation buzzing in the air as you entered the dimly lit room. 

Nanami pushed you gently onto the bed, the cool sheets contrasting sharply with your heated skin.

“On all fours,” he instructed, his voice firm yet enticing.

You obeyed, getting onto your hands and knees, heart pounding with anticipation. Ino knelt behind you, his hands gripping your hips, positioning you just right as Nanami moved closer. 

“You’re going to feel so good,” he promised, his breath fanning over your back.

Ino’s fingers danced along your spine, teasing you as he spread your legs wider, exposing your desperate cunt fully to them. 

“Look at you, so eager,” he taunted, a wicked grin on his face.

Nanami stepped forward, his hard length just inches from your face, a sight that made your mouth water. 

“Remember to keep your hands behind your back,” he reminded you, his tone darkly playful. You nodded, the thrill of being so vulnerable only heightening your desire.

With a swift motion, Nanami gripped your hair, pulling your head back slightly as he pressed his cock against your lips. 

“Open up for me,” he commanded, his voice low and filled with authority. You gladly complied, taking him in your mouth, feeling the heat and weight of him as he pushed deeper, touching the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl,” Nanami praised, his grip on your hair firm as he began to thrust, setting a rhythm that was both deliciously intense and overwhelming. 

The warmth of his skin against your tongue, the taste of him filling your mouth—it was intoxicating.

Ino positioned himself behind you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“You’re going to love this,” he said, his voice thick with lust. He pushed in slowly, filling you completely, stretching you in a way that made you moan around Nanami’s shaft, causing.

The combined sensations were overwhelming. 

Nanami pulled your hair, guiding you to take him deeper, while Ino thrust hard and deep, the two of them working in sync to bring you to the edge of ecstasy.

“Tell us how it feels,” Ino urged, his breath hot against your ear.

“Y-you feel so good,” you managed to gasp, the words muffled around Nanami’s cock.

“Good girl,” Nanami replied, his thrusts becoming more demanding as he drove into your mouth, forcing you to take him fully with each movement. He pulled your hair harder, and the mixture of pleasure and pain had you trembling, completely at their mercy.

Ino’s hand came down hard against your ass, a sharp smack that sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through you. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He taunted, his pace quickening as he buried himself deep inside you.

A stifled moan escaped your lips around Nanami’s length, the words swallowed by the delicious pressure of him filling you completely. 

Tears of pleasure pricked at your eyes as you fought to take him deeper, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. 

The heat radiated from your cheeks, your body alight with desire as you revelled in the sensations. 

Every thrust, every slap of Ino’s hand against your skin heightened your arousal, pushing you closer to the edge.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming. Nanami’s grip on your hair was a tantalizing reminder of your submission, pulling you just right, guiding you deeper onto his cock as you struggled to breathe. 

The taste of him filled your senses—salt and heat—overwhelming you with every thrust. You felt like you were floating in a blissful haze, completely consumed by them.

Ino’s pace increased, his thrusts deep and forceful, each one sending pleasure spiraling through your body. 

You could feel every inch of him as he filled you from behind, stretching you in ways that made your head spin. 

The sensation of being filled from both ends was exquisite; it was as if you were being split open, filled to the brim with pleasure that was both dizzying and deliciously intense.

“Such a good little slut,” Ino breathed, his voice thick with lust as he leaned closer, his hands gripping your hips. 

The way he filled you completely, thrusting deep and slow before picking up the pace, made you whimper in response. 

You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, dripping down your thighs as your body reacted instinctively to the raw, primal urges surging within you.

“Look at you,” Nanami said, his voice low and steady, contrasting with the chaos of your emotions. 

“So eager, so desperate. Just for us.” His thrusts grew more insistent, each movement pushing you closer to the brink, demanding everything you had to give.

With every stroke of Ino’s hips against yours, the pleasure built like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. 

The rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the heavy breaths that filled the air, and the intoxicating heat radiating from both of them enveloped you in a cocoon of bliss.

“Don’t you dare come until we tell you to,” Nanami growled, his grip tightening on your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. 

The tension in your body became almost unbearable, your thighs quaking with the effort to hold back the impending wave of pleasure.

The thrill of submission sent waves of warmth flooding through you, and you felt alive, pulsating with need. 

A muffled sound escaped your throat, a blend of desperation and desire as you felt the pressure building within you. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes, each thrust driving you closer to a peak you could taste but couldn’t reach.

“Good,” Ino replied, a dark grin spreading across his face as he thrust harder, the force of his movements sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. 

“Just keep taking it, and we’ll reward you.”

You could feel the heat building deep within you, your body desperate to release, yet every time you got close, the control they exerted over you kept you teetering on the edge. 

Each thrust, each slap, and every harsh pull of your hair drew you further into a haze of lust, completely lost to the sensations.

“Look at you, all flushed and needy,” Nanami taunted, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers coursing through you. “You want to come, don’t you?”

The only response you could muster was another stifled moan, a sound filled with desperate longing that echoed around Nanami’s length. 

The pleasure coursed through you, thick and suffocating, and you felt as if you were drowning in the overwhelming sensations.

“Then just hold on a little longer,” he urged, his movements becoming more rhythmic, driving deeper, pushing you closer to the precipice with each powerful thrust.

As they worked together, the world around you faded into nothing, leaving only the heat, the pleasure, and the intoxicating dominance of both men. 

You were theirs, completely lost in the overwhelming sensations of being filled from both ends, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure that you never wanted to end.

[love-jelly]

RIGHT HERE.

sypnosis: you're soft for yuuta. more than you should be, considering that he's spoiled with your endless mounts of affection, basking him in the purity of your love.

contents: slight yandere!yuuta, cunninlingus, fingering, porn with plot (?), pet names (baby, pretty baby, etc)

word count: ~2.1k

a/n: i don't think i've ever wrote this much in my life, especially for a fic!! i lightly (barely) proofread this so if it sucks.... well, hopefully it doesn't. i listened to right here by chase atlantic for this fic because it reminds me of yan!yuuta sm so you can listen to it while reading if you want! i hope you enjoy !! minors dni. ageless / blank / minor blogs will be blocked if seen interacting!

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yuuta is never far from you, always a step ahead, always ready, always a steady presence in your life, from your teenage years to now.

how could you not be soft for him, knowing he's the only person that's ever stayed in your life? laying in bed with him, twirling the locks of hair that have started limiting his vision, an energy of tranquility enveloping the room that you both inhibit. a sudden call from your phone causes vibrations and loud rings that shake the peace that you both felt prior. you sit up tiredly to answer, sighing.

"hello?" you answer, not bothering to check who called. no one usually ever calls you at this time of day.

"are you down?" a voice you recognize emerges from the voicebox of your phone, demanding an answer to her sudden question. it's your best friend.

"down for...?" a confused tone is prominent in your voice.

"is yuuta hogging you again?" she jokes but you still see yuuta furrow his eyebrows at the comment. "read the groupchat! are you down for a girl's date today?"

"ohh, i didn't see the notifications, let me see." even before checking the messages, you know you don't really feel like going. today's your first day off in forever and you really wanted to spend it with yuuta but when you see the all uppercase texts clearly exhibiting extreme excitement from your best friends, you put your phone back to your ear. "i'll go."

your friend squeals excitedly, "okay!! text you're going in the groupchat, all the girls are finally free today to get together!! i can't wait to see you all again! see you later!" and promptly ends the call.

you turn back to yuuta, his eyebrows still furrowed. you smile softly and gently press your fingertips to his face to rid him of the wrinkles. "i'm sorry, baby, i know you wanted to spend all of today with me... i'll make it up to you, i promise."

his face relaxes but his eyes are still troubled. "it's okay... when are you leaving?"

you check the groupchat one more time, filtering through all the messages including exclaims of excitement to search for the details. "it starts at 2:30pm so i should leave at 1:30... which means i should start getting ready at 11:30 max. it's 10:00 so we still have time together."

yuuta pulls you back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and noses his way into your neck, making you giggle slightly from the ticklish feeling.

yuuta lightly bites your neck, leaving a light indent of his teeth. only slightly satisfied, he stares at it before he gets up, leaving you in the receding warmth of the bed.

frowning slightly, you call out "where are you going?"

'show her she only needs you', the devil on his shoulder whispers.

he hums. he turns backwards and picks you up gently, taking you with him. he kisses your cheek softly. "breakfast." he answers.

_____________

you softly groan into your closed fist. this was your weak point. yuuta, with his messily but cute tousled bedhead, shirtless, and cooking (especially when its your favorite breakfast). you had forgotten how badly this scene made the pit in your stomach ignite.

"hm?" his eyes flit over to you for a second before settling back onto the food in the pan in front of him, hiding a small smile that you don't catch.

you sit up quickly, adjusting your legs. "nothing, love!" your voice sounds tight and somewhat strained.

he knits his eyebrows together, "are you sure?" he glances at you, for longer this time before focusing back on the hot pan.

"yes..." you trail off, your eyes laser beamed at how he grips the pan handle and spatula. the tight grip of his hand on the pan.... then on your thigh.... then onto your waist....

shaking your head abruptly, you smile as you see yuuta plating your food. how could you think of your sweet boyfriend like this? poor yuuta, just wants to cook you breakfast... but the filthy thoughts continue to plague your mind.

his tongue flicking the fork (getting the remnants of the food left on it), a tongue you feel between your legs often.... his fingers wrapped around the fork (to feed you, of course), fingers you feel inside you often... you're in a daze, staring at him with the hungriest look yuuta has seen in your eyes in awhile. it's not his fault you've been so busy that you can't spare time for him and that you both haven't your fill of each other in awhile.

your running rampant thoughts are interrupted by the conspirator of your current fantasies himself when yuuta swipes at the side of your mouth to rid you of some crumbs and move them into your mouth.

and you can't catch yourself fast enough. your tongue darts out and collides with his finger and he pauses, frozen. in your starved haze, you grab his hand to pull him closer, sucking on the tip of his finger. now in his own mind-fogged state, he hyperfixates on your plush lips wrapped around his thumb and retracts it to replace it with him index and middle finger.

sliding his fingers into your mouth, he lightly presses down on your tongue. "you're so pretty..." he says, his eyes watching your eyes water.

taking his fingers out, he pulls you into a hard kiss. with teeth clashing and tongues dancing, he easily picks you up and carries you back to the bedroom.

in the bedroom, yuuta's rough with you. dropping you on the bed, watching you bounce on the bed for a second until he follows you, crawling on top of you. he quickly rids you of your flimsy tank and boy shorts, smiling smugly as he sees the wet spot in your panties. he kisses you your lips to your waist, sucking hickies along the way as if he's drawing a trail from his favorite place to kiss to his favorite place to make you cry out in pleasure.

when he reaches your waistline, he looks up at you. "you're so gorgeous" he whispers as he pulls apart your legs. you smile gently, it's so yuuta to compliment you in any situation.

your smile, however, is quickly contorted to a face of pleasure when you feel a light and wet pressure at your core. yuuta always knows exactly how to make you feel good, like he knows you better than he knows himself, like he crafted you himself.

his tongue makes quick work of your folds, lapping at the juice that leaks out of your pretty cunt, making you shut your eyes and cry out from the stimulation. diving into your hole and nudging your clit with his nose, you both simultaneously moan, him from your taste and you from the stimulation. your hands quickly find purchase in his hair, slightly pulling it to ground you while yuuta works on you, worships you like you deserve. through the pleasure, you find it in you to, somehow, open your eyes.

you can never get enough of this sight; yuuta's blown out pupils dizzy and drunk on your slick, slacked jaw taking in whatever your messy cunt gives him, and hair messy from your pulling and pushing. he's not usually a messy eater but with your cunt gushing out sweet elixir, what is he but a hopeless man amidst with a goddess- his goddess?

"y-yuu" you choke out, one hand pulling his hair and the other holding one of his hands tightly. "yes, love?" he kisses your clit, making you gasp at the sensation.

"need it!" you cry out right as he thumbs your clit to replace his lips.

"hm? what do you need? use your words, baby." he knows you, knows you can beg better, knows if he says the right words and pushes the right buttons, you'll crumble prettily, all for him.

the tips of your ears feel like they're burning, your cheeks like they've been set alight. "need to cum... please make me cum."

and just like that, yuuta feels like he's been set on fire, the match being your words. "well why didn't you just say so, baby?"

with that, he pushes two fingers into your weeping cunt and licks at the sweet delicacy you present to him. with the added stimulation of his long fingers that curl just right that it bumps into your g-spot, it doesn't take much for you to reach the edge.

yuuta knows your signs and tells. he knows when you open your legs a little wider, thighs start twitching, moans get a little whinier and right when he says "cum for me, pretty" you'll come undone like a lovely scroll depicting his ultimate downfall; you. and you'll go lax, all the tenseness in your body dissipated as if it was never there in the first place. your lips will open to let out the final and loudest moan, the melody of his hymn in which he worships you. your body shakes as he tongue-fucks you through your orgasm, from the intensity of it rocking your core.

when you've fully come down from your high, he kisses his way back up to your lips, following the same trail of hickies he embedded into your skin prior. once he reaches your lips, he crashes your lips together like you're his oxygen (you are). you taste yourself but you don't care as you greedily devour whatever he gives you.

"can i put it in, baby?" he begs softly as if he didn't just devour you like his life depended on it and a whine present in his voice like you would ever tell him no.

"put it in me, yuu."

he pants heavily as he slowly slides his cock into your leaking cunt. "so good- so perfect for me-"

loud rings come from your phone, startling you both.

"ignore it." yuuta whines, still slowly sliding into you.

"yuu- let me pick up- f-fuckk hold on- yuu!" you smack him lightly on his chest and he looks back at you sadly, looking like a kicked puppy. "it could be important! hold on."

you answer the phone quickly, before the phone rings loudly again, "hello?"

"where are you, girl? you're not usually late!" your friend exclaims.

you quickly rip your phone away from your ear to check the time. 3:00pm. "oh my god."

yuuta, still looking like a kicked puppy, mouths 'what?'

still in shock that you lost track of that much time, you whisper-yell "i'm late to go to the girl's date!"

yuuta starts sliding himself in more as he whispers back, "don't go... stay with me."

"hello?" a voice from your phone disrupts you two.

"oh um... i-i got wrapped up in something..." you watch yuuta as he mouths at you 'say something came up, say you can't go anymore'. you can't exactly say you want to go either, especially when he's pleading with you like this and already sunk his cock halfway into your more honest cunt.

"oh... well, are you still coming? everyone's here tonight!"

weighing your options (get an amazing orgasm, maybe two or three actually, or hang out with some of your best friend who you haven't seen in awhile), you decide.

"i'll g- ohh." yuuta, seeing you were about to leave him, shoves the rest of him into you, bottoming out and mouths 'don't leave me'. your moan goes unnoticed by your friend, thankfully.

"you're coming? eek-!!"

noticing your boyfriend's neediness and noting your own wants, you quickly respond. "ah no- um, something came up. i'm actually a little occupied right now so-"

yuuta visibly perks up at your decision and you smile softly.

"awww, okay. i hope everything's alright! come to the next get-together, alright?"

"mhm, yeah, of course. i'll be there next time." you promptly end the call after exchanging goodbyes.

"i'm glad you're staying... with me." yuuta smiles, an unfamiliar emotion you've never seen in his eyes.

"of course-" you're cut off by his abrupt thrusting and you release a whiny moan.

"shhh, let me make my pretty baby feel good." he kisses your face and threads your hands together.

he pulls you into a hug and with his face hidden to you, yuuta finally lets out the smile he's been holding in all day long. and he thinks:

'i win.'

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if you enjoyed this, please reblog and/or consider following me!

a/n: i've been having the worst (best) yandere yuuta brainrot ever, something about it feels so canon. but omg this is my first time actually writing full on smut so please give me feedback/constructive criticism!! also i'm a virgin. CAN U TELL??? LOL hopefully not. but hopefully you enjoyed!! thank you for getting this far :)

[fanaticsnail]

Gloves: Sabo

Birthday Celebration Masterllst

Word Count: 3,200+

Themes: Sabo x f!reader, gendered terms used, glove play, roleplay, workplace rivals, oral, creampie, mdni, smut, 18+, NSFW, porn with plot, minor degradation, angst, fluff, Sabo is unhinged, kinks.

Notes: This fic was inspired for @writingmysanity's birthday earlier in the month. Happy birthday, you absolute beautiful person. Lots of imput by @frillsinadress who loves her Sabo a little more unhinged and aided in the plot. Thank you for celebrating with me, and lots of love to the both of you.

Lock latching within the wooden door behind him, Sabo closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tightly shut. Immediately, his forehead found the cool surface and he gently butt his face against the door in a bid to reprimand himself before you had the chance to do so. 

Taking in your surroundings, you were in a similar state of displeasure. Inhaling deeply through your nose, and exhaling out your fury through your mouth, you were simply too mad to articulate your true feelings. 

Sabo had one task to handle. 

This mission served together with the revolutionary army was simple enough, and you had prepared for it remarkably well. Infiltrate the marine gala, Sabo dressed in service attire and masquerading as your footman and valet, you in an elaborate gown imitating a nepotism invitation by association, gather the intel by distracting the guests while Sabo rummaged through the desks, retrieve the desired information, and leave without a scratch. 

The only hindrance that occurred was truly the fact that you and Sabo, the flame emperor himself, did not get along. Despite working together for years, you and the blonde man could barely stand being in the same room together, let alone share the single bed in the middle of the room. 

Sabo was in charge of ensuring adequate accommodation to house you once you returned from your mission before you made it back to home base. Twin rooms, a room with a divider in the center, two different inns, anything would've been better than the single room with a small, double bed at the center. 

On the mission itself, he was to behave as your servant and wait on your every whim, just as his role indicated. He was your handler, and you were to be his bratty and snooty boss. These roles were played into with absolute perfection, just as you planned. Sabo was able to keep up with you, and you pushed him to the absolute brink of insanity. 

Driving him mad came easy to you, so he learned. Having no choice but to respond with ‘yes, my lady,’ or ‘as you wish, my lady’ in this public setting with his head bowed low made his skin crawl with displeasure. Having you be in charge, not being able to speak up when another man laid his hands on you while asking you to dance, watching the way they undressed you with their eyes and fucked you in their minds was repulsive in his opinion. Not you, yourself, but those who intended to lay claim on you. 

Marines. Marines laying their hands on you. You, a revolutionary. You, the bane of his existence. You, the night mistress that called to him in his dreams and mocked him with your body performing for him as a marionette beneath his ventriloquism. As he made you cry for him in ecstasy in his dreams of late, always waking with a sticky reminder of his budding infatuation for the thorn in his side seemed to make him all the more pent up in rage.

“Wonderful, Sabo!” Your voice echoed within the singular room, sarcasm dripping from every word as you snarl at him, “This is just perfect. Can't you do anything right? Just a single thing for you to handle, and you can’t even do that.” 

“Watch it,” he growled back at you, continuing to hold his head against the wood, “Be grateful we have a room at all. This was the last on the Den-Den list available.” He was so pent up with rage at being your little ‘errand-boy’ for the night that he so desperately wanted to teach you a lesson in humility. 

“Be grateful? Be grateful?” you mock him, beginning to remove your great outer skirt and throw it to the ground, changing out of your costume and leaving you in your frilled under-draws, bodice and jewelry. “It's only the last room because you left it so late. If you just listened to me when we first got this mission from Dragon, we wouldn't be in this situation.”

“Listen to you?” Sabo quirked, his jaw switching and a sinister smirk up-ticking at the corners. Turning in place, he faced you and bore his piercing blue eyes into your skull, “Listen to you?”

“You never listen to me-,” you began, halting as Sabo took a calculated step forward. His gloved hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, still in the uniform from the earlier assignment. 

“-I have done nothing but listen to you for the entire night,” Sabo laughed humorlessly, drawing up a gloved hand to card through his sunshine locks, “I have waited on you hand and foot, I have followed one step behind you and behaved like a leashed pup. I have fed you food, I have poured your drinks, I have danced with you, I have-.”

“-Done the job I planned for you to do so, yes,” you spat in response, stepping closer to him and gnashing your teeth in a sarcastic smile, “The only time you ever take my needs into consideration is when it’s all an act for you, Sabo. I pity the partner you find yourself coupling with.” This did not halt you in your removal of jewelry adorning your neck, now flung carelessly to the vanity with your shoes kicked off beneath the bed. 

Sabo’s eyes grew wider, his lip curling up in displeasure at your display. 

“You should watch your tone with me, brat,” he snapped, stepping closer still and brushing his booted toes against your own clad in thigh-high stockings beneath your frills. 

“Or what, asshole?” you quip in return, tilting your head and mirroring his expression. Standing on your toes, your noses almost brushed with the proximity your flared tempers drew you to. 

Never one to shy away from a challenge, Sabo’s right hand flung to your hip and clenched firmly against the bone, the other flying up to cup your cheek and tilted his head down between you. His lips almost descended on your own, and your very breath was stolen from you. Anger immediately subseased, and in its wake swelled a banner of anxiousness at his motions. 

Just before your lips touched, he clenched his jaw and growled into your surprised features. 

“Just take the damn bed,” Sabo uttered darkly, his eyes puncturing you with their rage, “I'd rather sleep outside on the gravel floor than hear you whine about it any longer.”

His hands released from your features, hanging limply at his sides while you remained stunned at the rush of blood flooding your chest and expanding your heart. Sabo clicked his tongue down at you, turning on his heel and began to briskly walk to the door while releasing a shuddered breath. 

Your body moved almost against your will, immediately pulled magnetically behind him by the emotional display in proximity. Before he could unlatch the door from the hinges, your hand found his gloved fingers and tugged him back to face you. 

“Want me to stop whining about the room so bad,” you taunted him, darting your eyes between his with a challenge twinkling behind your anger, “Make me.”

“I'm done taking orders from you,” he shook his head, snatching his hand away from yours and drawing once again to the door. 

Although his hand was on the lock, his mind screaming at his fingers to turn the knob and leave, and not give in to your taunt, the call to put you in your place and bend you to his will was far too tempting to ignore. For what felt like an eternity, Sabo stationary at the door while you remained firmly in place in the middle of the room, he made his snap decision. 

“Screw this,” he whispered exasperatedly, turning to face you and hastily closing the distance between you. 

His hands flung up to your cheeks, lips colliding in a messy oscillation of teeth and tongue while he ravished your mouth with his own. He made his pact internally, crafting a covenant the moment his lips clashed with yours: you will learn your lesson, and your pleasure will be your teacher invoked by his hands. 

Hardly waiting for you to react or understand what was occuring, Sabo's gloved hands immediately found their way beneath the waistband of your frilly, knee-length under-draws. His shrouded fingers carded through your folds, the material adding friction to your quivering clit and causing you to whine into his lips. 

Pulling away both his hands and his lips from you entirely, he raised his index and middle finger to your gaze and demonstrated the amount of slick you had already coated him with. Rolling your arousal through his hands, he chuckled down at you while you panted for him in need. 

“Tsk, tsk, made my gloves all messy,” he reprimanded you with a click in his tongue. “Clean them.” 

As you parted your lips in shock at his statement, he immediately thrust his covered fingers into your lips and pushed down on your tongue. You tasted your honeyed essence on his material, the lewd act only causing more slick to pool in your panties beneath your under-drawers. 

Sabo took his unoccupied hand and undid the waist ribbon, watching as the frills pooled at your feet. His blue eyes eclipsed with black at the sight of the girdle and thigh clips suspending your thigh-high stockings. As he languidly fucked your mouth with his fingers, his other hand flicked one of the elastic suspenders holding up the sheer stockings. 

“This was under there the whole time?” he scoffed, gripping a fistful of your thigh, “All those frigid fucking layers, and this what was lurking beneath? Fuck.” 

He removed his hand from your lips, the material from his gloves leaving a coarse and furry feeling on your palate as he retracted them. Before you had a chance to answer him regarding your attire, Sabo dropped to his knees and threw your legs over his shoulders, and rose back up to full height. 

Slamming your back into the wooden door, he mouthed at your soaked panties, drawing lazy circles against your clothed clit before dipping down to your shrouded entrance. His motions caused your breath to hitch and your hands to fly down to cling onto his golden locks. 

“Sabo-!” You choked out your whimpers, truly not understanding how you had only just verbally lashing at one another to now having Sabo ushering you close to climax by burying his scarred face into your core. 

“Quiet,” he muffled his orders, moving his hand up to wedge your soaked panties between your folds while covering your clit with his parted lips. 

The amount of friction pulling at your body was too much: the heat from his breath, the feel of his gloved fingers now traveling up to your slit and coaxing out more of your creamy slick to dampen the material with its viscosity, and the way his tongue abused your clit had you close to the edge. Tempers flaring moments prior, your belly squeezed in tight knots before you abruptly released over his tongue. 

Your cunt contracted around the material, his fingers feeling the rhythmic thumps of your pussy riding through a hasty high brought on by his hands. He couldn't help but chuckle into your core, feeling the way your slick managed to seep through your lingerie and dampen his gloves with it once more.

“Already?” Sabo teased you, urging you with his arms to slump against his head while he shepherded you towards the double bed in the center of the room. Throwing you down onto the bed, you bounced once atop the springs while he threw his jacket and shirt from his shoulders. 

“Sabo, I-,” you attempted, your body still reeling from the pleasure he quickly drew from your body. 

“-I said ‘quiet’, didn’t I?” he reprimanded you, removing his belt and beginning to unbutton his pants. Your eyes greedily drank him in, noticing the large amount of scarring that marred his skin with the similar marks donning his right hand side. Removing his hat, he was left in naught but those two gloves he had been enjoying torturing you with. 

You didn’t say a word while you gazed up at him with uncertainty in your eyes. Never once picturing this moment between you both, your lip quivered in anticipation for his next actions. Immediately, his unhinged expression dropped to match your own, cocking his head to the side while examining you. 

“I’m only going to ask you this once,” he offered you, peering down his nose at you while you peered up at him in awe, “Do you want this. A simple ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ will do.” 

Ignoring the prior rage you felt after the mission with your workplace rival, the way your pussy clenched while he took charge spurred you on to answer with a single word. 

“Yes.”

Sabo smirked before slotting himself between your legs, tugging at your panties still partially wedged in your labia as he did so. Leaning down, he took your bottom lip within his clenched teeth and pulled on the plush flesh. 

“I think,” he uttered against your lips, releasing it with a smack of his mouth against yours, “I am,” he hastily scooped his arms beneath your shoulders and flung you face-down against the mattress, “Going to,” he pressed down on the mid of your back, arching your ass up while pawing his gloved hands at your panties and hooking them to the side, “Keep your panties on while I ruin you. They’re too fucking good to take off.”

You whelped while he tugged your panties to the side, immediately lining his cockhead up with your glistening slit. Carding the tip through your folds, he let out a shaken shudder while he enjoyed the feeling of your slick coating his cock. 

Although truly desiring to take his time with you, as soon as he heard your shuddered whimper, a switch clicked in his mind and propelled him onward. Bottoming out immediately, he started a brutal pace of slapping his hips against yours and bucking wildly into you. There was no more time for teasing, no more time for subtlety, no more time for drawing out your bliss with languid thrusts to burn his name onto your tongue. 

It was all raw emotion driving him. Your mewls and cries for him was gasoline to the flames of his desires, propelling him to spur on with each cruel piston within you. You could barely get a word out to tell him to slow down, immediately too drunk on the feeling of his mushroomed tip kissing your g spot and bruising your cervix. 

Sabo slot his four fingers beneath the ass of your panties and rolled them in his grip using them as reins to control your motions while his thumb brushed with your puckered hole. You immediately tensed up as he began tapping on your unexplored entrance while brutally stapling you against the mattress. He chuckled darkly, noting he may want to explore a little bit more of ass play another time with you, but for now, he was so lost in the way your pussy fluttered around him with every in-thrust that he physically could no longer hold himself back. 

“Oh, fuck,” he barked out, a small whine picking up in the back of his throat as he continued railing his cock into your core, “So fucking good. Why the fuck haven’t we done this earlier?”

“Be- hnnnghm-... Because I hate you, and you hate me,” you retort in response. He chuckled into your neck, surging forward and placing a harsh nip to your neck from behind you. You cried out in response, 

“I don’t hate you,” he uttered, reaching forward and cupping your chin to mute your cries of bliss by slotting his unoccupied middle and unity finger into your mouth, “I fucking admire you.” He forced you to suck on his fingers while forcing your body to respond to his harsh momentum with every crude slap and gyration.  

You could barely respond to his confession, your body spasming while your cunt began contracting around his shaft. You knew you were close, and you could feel how close the man behind you was by the harsh pummeling of his hips on yours. Sabo’s own mewls of bliss began becoming higher in intensity.

No cohesive words fled from his lips while the primal urge took over. Focussing solely on your joint needs, he held you down while he forced pleasure upon your body. His abdomen coiled and tightened within his stomach, his balls slinking into his guts while he felt the imminent release begin to spurt from his slit. 

“I-I-I’m cumming-!” he whined in your ear, forcing your body down on the mattress while he continued huffing and panting. The viscous splashback of his cum painted your walls with passion as he moaned through his high. Gripping at your spine and arching your back further, he held you in place while you felt your coil shatter and join him in oblivion.

Walls begin to milk him on his release by pistoning him with rhythmic contractions, your muffled scream of his name was muted by his gloved fingers while you felt your high crest in your chest.Your pussy drank in his orgasm while forcing your own upon you. Lightning fizzed at the corners of your eyes while your high was married to the mans’ behind you.

Slumping down onto your shoulder, his lips moved lazily against your skin, mirroring the motions he made in his dreams while thrusting lazily into your pussy. He withdrew his fingers from your mouth while turning your chin to meet his face. Meeting briefly with your eyes, he hastily drew his lips upon yours while muffling his groans into your mouth with every spurt of his release fleeing from his slit.

Hearts beating as one, he buried himself one final time to the hilt while his lips joined with yours. You had little choice but to take the passion he crafted against your features. Closing your eyes and puckering your lips, you merged your soul with his while he continued to passionately forge his body against yours. 

After taking a moment, both of you gulping back your exertion while recovering from your highs, Sabo met his expression with your own and sheepishly chuckled openly.

“Hi,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss once more to your lips while you caught your breath. 

“Hi,” you expressed in return, feeling exceptionally full by his cock within your pussy after expelling his sticky release deep within your walls. 

Sabo chuckled, pressing his lips to your temple while retracting his cock from your pussy. Rolling gently away from your body, he took in your form and basked in the afterglow forged by his hands. You reached forward, cupping his scarred cheek and caressed it with your thumb while you came to. 

“Share the stupid bed with me,” you commanded, stated more like a request than an explicit order. “I'd hate it if you slept outside on the cool cobblestone without me. My final order for the night, valtet.” 

Sabo chuckled, nestling in close to you while brushing his nose with yours. Although the time for roleplaying amongst the marines and upperclassmen was complete, he could barely control himself as he uttered four words to coincide with your orders. 

“Of course, my lady.” 

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🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

[emeraldserenade]

could you please write something about Joaquin dating bucky’s protege? It would be funny seeing Sam and Buckys reaction and Bucky being all protective over the reader :) thanks!

Dating The Protege ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Bucky is maybe a little too overprotective of you

tw: fem!reader, reader wears sports bra and a pair of athletic shorts,

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

And I am out of requests again, but I am loving them all. I hope this is what you wanted!

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Bucky took you in, it couldn't have been an easier decision. You reminded him of him, you weren't from Hydra or the Red Room, your parents were just normal scientists. Scientists that didn't have properly put up chemicals or properly locked rooms. You were just a child, one that didn't know better, but suddenly you had ingested some serum. A less potent super serum from what your parents told you, you weren't paying attention. You were a child after all, why would you pay attention?

"And this is James Buchanan Barnes," your parents had introduced you to him after your 18th birthday. You accidentally ripped the door to one of the rooms in the house clean off, you hadn’t meant to. You just were upset that you got stood up by your prom date and pulled it off.

"Hi, y/n," Bucky offered his hand to you, you knew about him. Having heard the stories and seen the news about The Winter Soldier.

"Hi, Mr. Barnes," you shook his hand, careful not to squeeze too tight.

"You can call me Bucky," he told you as your parents grabbed your bags. They had promised to send you the rest of your things to you in DC when they packed it, the plane ride from California to DC was not enough space for everything. "Are you ready?" He glanced between you and your parents.

"Yeah, I just gotta say goodbye," you told him and spun to face your parents.

"We love you, honey," your mom was the first to hug you.

"Have fun and be safe, ok, birdie?" Your dad hugged you and you nodded gently.

"I love both of you," you told them and took your bags.

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"Don't flirt with him," Bucky pointed at you, you raised your hands at him. You had been with him for years, he knew you enough to know Joaquín was your type.

"And if I do?" You challenged.

"Then I'll make you go back to 3am runs," Bucky raised his eyebrows at you.

"Woah, woah, woah, man, hey! Wait a minute, no need to be so harsh!" You were too busy yelling at Bucky to notice Sam and Joaquín walking in. Joaquín paused when he saw you, they had come to the gym to meet you and Bucky. Bucky was insistent that they meet you somewhere you were comfortable, and your level of comfortability was evident in how you dressed in only a sports bra and a pair of shorts.

"Harsh? It's called a punishment for a reason," Bucky laughed and you smacked his upper arm.

"Buck, are you being mean to your protege?" Sam laughed through his question, and you spun to face the two new comers. You paused when you saw Joaquín, you understood why Bucky was telling you to not flirt with him. Joaquín was exactly your type and the way his smile lit up his face.

"He's always mean to me," you recovered, knowing Bucky was already aware of your new crush.

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"What part of don't flirt with him got lost in translation?" Bucky watched as you moved around your room, getting ready for your date with Joaquín.

"He flirted with me first! Was I supposed to just let the embodiment of my dream guy just go?" You looked at Bucky.

"Yes! What if you need me?" Bucky told you, you knew he meant to malice to his words. You had just grown on him and he was worried about you.

"Bucky, I promise, if I need you I'll call. If I need you and I can't call, then I will have Joaquín call. And for whatever reason, neither of us can call, then I will make sure to struggle enough that my necklace alerts you," you walked towards Bucky as you spoke.

"And if Joaquín is the reason you need me?" Bucky asked and you laughed.

"You think that Joaquín Torres, the walking definition of a golden retriever boy, will hurt me? Especially knowing that I have you waiting for me and that Sam will make his life a living hell," you raised your eyebrow at him.

"I," Bucky met your eyes and you saw him give in. "Ok, go have fun, bee," Bucky ruffled your hair and you pushed your hair back into place.

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"Hi," you looked at Joaquín, he was standing at the door with flowers.

"Hi," Joaquín smiled at you and you two just stared at each other for a moments before Bucky fake coughed.

"Oh, uh, you can come in while I get these a vase," you told Joaquín but Bucky stopped you at the door.

"I'll take care of these, you two have fun," Bucky ushered you out the door and you and Joaquín made your way to his car.

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"If he hurts her," Bucky started his threats again but Sam cut him off.

"Shut it, man. They'll notice us," took his eyes off where you and Joaquín were walking in the park eating ice cream. You two had your arms linked together and leaning towards each other.

"I'm just saying," Bucky told Sam and you looked in their direction. Joaquín looked over to and you both just stared them down.

"You got us caught, man," Sam smacked Bucky and they both watched as you and Joaquín took off down the path away from them. Your laughter echoing back at them as if taunting them. That's when they both knew you two would be alright, even if it hurt Bucky watching you grow up just a little bit more.

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