#hate that it got a chuckle out of me because i wasn’t expecting it

[elendsessor]

i don’t think you know peak online name humor when some hunter is named dmv and their palico “tesla”

[lemonlover1110]

𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your husband usually calls for you to join him during his bath.

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of Sukuna killing people, rough pregnancy, Sukuna being fluffy (so slightly ooc), reader is mean to Sukuna

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Ever since you shared the news of your pregnancy with your husband, Sukuna has become more loving. The man who’d talk to you however he wanted, now makes sure to soften his voice when talking to you. He wants to see you every hour of the day, even when you don’t want to see him. Sukuna is seeing how you’re struggling with your pregnancy, and he wants to check up on you constantly.

You’re not too far along that you both know of, yet you’re huge. He grows worried that his selfish want of a child will cause you harm. There’s one person that Sukuna would die for, and it’s you. If something were to happen to you because of himself then he’d– He doesn’t want to think of it.

Lately he’s been asking to take baths with you. At the end of the day, a servant walks into your chambers and informs you, “Lord Sukuna requests for you to join him in his bath, mistress.”

She bows her head to not look at you, scared that she’ll end up like the last servant that dared to look you in the eye. It was Sukuna’s doing because how dare someone look his wife in the eye? You sigh before telling her, “I’ll be there in a second.” 

She stands in the entrance of your room, given orders to not leave without you. Sure, Sukuna requests to see you but it’s an order from him. You don’t have much of an option. 

You follow behind her, and she excuses herself when you’re finally with him. Sukuna lays comfortably in the water, patiently waiting for you to get undressed and join him in the water. He watches as you take off all your garments and walk over to him when you’re completely bare. 

“You need to start leaving me alone, you’re starting to annoy me.” You tell him as you get in the water. Sukuna chuckles, finding it amusing how you’ve completely stopped fearing him. One of his hands caresses you from your breasts to your bump, resting there.

“Now, why are you getting mad at me? I thought you wanted a loving husband?” Sukuna comments, kissing the top of your head. Your hand rests on top of his, lightly squeezing it.

“I wanted one before he got me pregnant. I swear I must be carrying twins– Or the baby also has four arms. I don’t know, I’m just miserable.” You confess, and Sukuna kisses the top of your head again. He really shouldn’t have expected it to be any different. Sukuna’s huge, why would his baby be any different?

“It’s just one and done then?” He asks, and you hum in response. Maybe your answer will be different in a few years, but for now it’s that. He feels a tug on his heartstrings, seeing how much you’re struggling. He’s worried. “Are you holding up okay, though?”

“Not like we could do anything if I wasn’t.” You answer. He’s definitely much softer than your usual husband, and you would’ve loved it if you weren’t carrying a monster child. His hand remains on your stomach, and he feels as his baby kicks while you moan in pain. Sukuna shushes you, feeling as his baby moves.

“I’m trying to feel him! Shut up, woman!” He raises his voice, and you slightly turn to glare at him. A look that would surely kill you if you were anyone else.

“How does me making noise correlate with you feeling the baby! Think, Sukuna! Use your fucking brain.” You’re definitely bolder than usual, which makes him laugh. 

“You’re so beautiful when you’re yelling at me.” He says, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss it. “I love seeing you demanding and mean. It shows the effect I have on you.”

“Really?” You answer, and he hums in response. There’s no better time to bring up what’s been bugging you than now. “I hate that new servant you took in. Kick her out.”

“And why is that?” He asks. 

“She was looking at you funny.” You respond.

“In the sense?”

“She has the hots for you, and I don’t like it.”

“Hmm… What if I was looking for–” He begins and you glare at him. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, but he guesses that’s something that’s off limits when he tries to joke. “Don’t you want me to do more?”

“Like what?” You question, even though you should know your husband better than anyone.

“Kill her.” He answers. 

“Hmm… Up to you.” You reply. You lay comfortably on his chest, feeling as his finger traces lazy circles on your belly. You change the topic, “Why do you think it’s a boy?”

“I can’t see myself with a daughter.”

[priniya]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 PUPPY LOVER GIRL! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

summary. upon coming to the race with your little girl, oscar and you are facing a challenging situation as your daughter gets completely enamoured with every dog she sees.

notes. oscar piastri x leclerc!wife!reader. first osc fic!!! (the obsession is getting out of hand). also pls let me know if you’d like to read something else with dad!oscar. also got inspired by @eccentricwritingbaby’s series with dad!lando!!!! didn’t proofread (idc)

dressed in an orange shirt with her dad’s number on the back, little chloe was an absolute ray of sunshine, whenever you took her to the race, which, honestly, wasn’t such a common occurrence as some people expected. your little girl loved coming to the race, mostly because it was a chance for her to meet all her favorite uncles in one place, while watching the cars drive really fast, which always made her giggle a little, especially once she started to recognize oscar’s car amongst others. despite her obvious love for the event, she was still a toddler and dragging her every other week to the airport to go to another country was something you and oscar decided to push further in time.

nevertheless, you could deny your husband the happiness of his little girl’s presence at his home race. as much as you hated the thought of such a long flight with a toddler, because the nice to melbourne flight was never a short one without any layovers, and you really tried to stick to at least some of chloe’s day schedule. but in the end it was the pure happiness in your husband’s eyes, when you spent two weeks in his home country before a race.

with said mclaren shirt with piastri written on her back, chloe was happily skipping, holding oscar’s hand as she looked around her, until a small gasp slipped her lips, freezing in her tracks, causing you to stop as well, your forehead creasing with confusion until your eyes followed hers. a puppy — simba, to be precise.

at first you thought she was scared, when her eyes widened in shock and, as you wrongfully assumed, fear, but she was quick to reveal her true feelings. a shy smile crept onto her face as she looked at oscar, who crouched to be on the same level as her. “daddy. i pet puppy, please?” her baby voice often made you and oscar’s mom jokingly call her oscar whisperer, because if you weren’t there to keep him in check, baby piastri would get every single thing she looked at. “let’s ask auntie kika first, okay?” oscar’s face lit up with a warm smile as he gently fixed his daughter’s piggytails.

back in monaco, you had a few situations, where you could learn your daughter how to behave around animals and she was picking it up pretty quickly. as horribly as it sounds, leo, your brother’s dog, was… a bit of a guinea pig, but since chloe was a literal little angel, who was afraid of making anyone sad (hence you had to put a ban on buying plushies as gifts, because she wanted every single one to sleep with her to the point where there was no more room on the bed for her), so there were never any fur or tail pulling, screaming into poor dog’s ear or anything that could cause any harm to leo and in consequence, to chloe.

a happy grin was plastered on her face, when kika and pierre walked up to them first, the girl quickly started gushing about the adorableness of her favorite papaya girl. “i pet puppy, please? ‘tie kika?” the three years old asked, holding her hands behind her back. “i gentle.” she adds, pointing at herself as if kika wasn’t completely drowning in the cuteness of the situation.

“of course, pumpkin. simba really missed you.” she chuckles softly, the two of you watching as chloe starts petting the small dog with delicacy, babbling something slightly incoherent to simba, who tried licking her fingers as she giggled. “you should get her a dog.” your friend laughed softly, nudging you with her elbow.

“we’re thinking about it, but i don’t think it’s gonna happen in near future.” you replied, a small smile tugging on your lips as chloe was completely infatuated with simba. “she’s still a lot of work, and you know how it is during the season, it’d be even more exhausting than it is now.”

few minutes later, after a quick chat with kika as you were walking down the paddock, catching up with oscar, who had to take a quick call. before you know it, your daughter squeales happily as she lets go of your hand, starting to run away, before oscar scoops her up in his arms. “hey, you can’t do that, squish.” oscar said gently. “you almost gave us a heart attack. if you wanna go somewhere, you have to tell us, okay?”

“suis désolée, daddy.” chloe replied a bit sadly as she pulled out her bottom lip. “but…” she scrunched her nose, unable to form a proper sentence in one language. “c’est uncle charles.” i’m sorry/it is.

“you still gotta tell me or mommy first.” oscar reminded her firmly, her sad pout breaking his heart a little, so… to change that, he smothered her face in small, quick kisses, making the toddler squirm in his arms, giggling cutely. “okay, c’mon, let’s say hi to uncle charles.”

as soon as baby piastri’s feet touched the ground, she ran for her life towards charles, the red pins in her hair being a small symbol of support for one of her favorite uncles. she was about to take a leap and jump into the driver’s arms, when she abruptly stopped mid-way, her mouth forming into a big ‘O’, girl’s attention has shifted from one beloved uncle to another as the youngest leclerc brother appeared in the line of her vision.

“uncle a’tty!” chloe squeaked even louder than before, happiness overflowing her adorable expression. arthur chuckled, taking a few long strides towards the three years old, before picking her up and doing a small spin, his niece erupting into a fit of giggles.

“my uncle a’tty.” she beamed, her arms wrapped around his neck, nuzzling her cheek against his. you could tell that your older brother’s heart just melted upon hearing chloe’s words, while your other older brother felt like he got stabbed with a knife.

“not a hi to your other best uncle?” charles asked in almost a desperate tone to get some attention from his favorite (and only) niece. oscar, you and alex just rolled your eyes playfully at his antics. a flicker of hope spread on his face as your daughter perked up slightly and let out a gasp.

“uncle lan?”

“oh, c’mon, squish.” your brother sighed, running a hand through his hair. a silly smile appeared on chloe’s face as she made grabby hands towards charles, who got over his exasperation pretty quickly. “play with leo, please?” she asks with big eyes and before you knew it, chloe was happily babbling to the mini dachshund.

although, the biggest fun she always had was with roscoe. mostly, because whenever she was around him, he was the chillest dog on the planet earth. she loved leo and simba, but they were still puppies with lots of energy and as much it would seem like chloe would love that, but when it came to doggies, she loved to just sit next to them and pet them endlessly.

that’s what she loved, whenever oscar and you took her to a race, that sometimes, beside being a bubbly little girl, cheering for her favorite person in the world along her second favorite person in the world, she could spend the time cheering and spending time with her favorite animals, while also being blissfully unaware of the tormenting of her mom’s brother.

[julietsbody]

innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.

tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment

coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.

he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.

what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”

“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”

he clears his throat, “sorry?”

“do you—“

“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“

“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.

you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.

“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”

he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.

loud incorrect buzzer.

he doesn’t!

coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.

“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.

he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”

“cocaine,” you swallow.

“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”

he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.

you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”

he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”

“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”

he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”

a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.

“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.

you bat your lashes at him, “what—“

“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.

you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”

he nods, “‘m positive.”

“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.

you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”

“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.

“good girl.”

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.

sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.

isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.

a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.

sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”

coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”

“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”

“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”

arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.

sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.

coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.

he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.

festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.

coriolanus heard his sex is never good.

funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.

coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.

what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.

coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”

you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”

“princess?” festus snickers.

coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”

coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”

festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”

coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”

your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.

festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”

his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.

“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.

“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.

so you do.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.

“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”

“sometimes—“

“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”

it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.

“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.

his tone is softer now, “why?”

“i didn’t know—“

“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”

you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”

your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”

his lips drop to a frown, “why?”

your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”

“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”

“what? why not?”

“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”

“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.

“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.

“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.

you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”

then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”

“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”

“that’s okay—“

“—i’m bad news—“

“—i don’t think that—“

“—i’m dangerous, doll.”

you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”

you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.

“you know how to chop up cocaine?”

you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”

“i’ll show you.”

and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”

he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”

“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.

“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”

“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.

he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”

you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”

your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”

“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”

“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”

“do you want it?” you pause your movements.

“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”

you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”

“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.

you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”

you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”

“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”

he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”

he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.

to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.

yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?

the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?

he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”

he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”

“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.

“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”

of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.

his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”

“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.

“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.

he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”

his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.

it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.

how cute.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.

you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”

he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”

and it’s true, you really were special.

you were a dangerous man’s doll.

[mv1simp]

for anon’s request: How about Lewis’ Daughter!reader like innocent and protected but Max completely makes her submit to him like actual love that she thinks Lewis is the bad guy for tryna come between their relationship? (Made it Lewis’ sister!)

Gods & Monsters ♥️

Max Verstappen x Hamilton!Reader

You got that medicine I need, fame liquor love, give it to me slowly…

As Lewis Hamilton’s younger, innocent sister, you’re desperate to prove yourself as an upcoming racer. Your family never seems to take you seriously, though, and after a fall out you end up training under Max Verstappen - your brother’s arch rival. Max promises he’ll train you to become the next world champion…as long as you do everything he asks.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin Hamilton! Reader, dark manipulative! Max, VERY dubcon, blindfolds, size kink, somnophilia, LH44 is sexist for plot reasons, ayo this is DARK!! 😙 3.4k WC

Growing up, you and your big brother Lewis were presented with two options. Either succeed, or fail to live upto the Hamilton name. Both your parents were incredibly hardworking and sacrificing - but all their attention would always go to their firstborn, the much older, bigger and better Hamilton. You were just as good as Lewis had been when starting out, spending every weekend on the track and dominating the junior karting races - but when it came time for you to progress into formula cars, your brother and father had chuckled, patting your head and saying it might be a bit too much for you, you were a lot smaller and younger than Lewis, after all. Maybe you should just stick to karting for now, or had you considered going into car design, you got pretty good grades in uni and that’s a much safer option?

You were understandably upset at the lack of opportunity to prove your last name. So you tried to sneak onto the F1 paddock, chatting up the team principals in the hope that they would recognise you from the karting podiums and recruit you into their junior teams-

But Lewis had caught on unbelievably fast, a tight smile and redirecting hand on your back as he led you out of the McLaren garage. We discussed this, baby sis Lewis said as you walked back to the Mercedes hospitality. He was never one to raise his voice but you could tell from his tone he was disappointed. You tried to argue again, saying that it wasn’t fair, you were a good driver too, but Lewis cut you off with a stern look. It’s not safe for you. The guys who race here - they aren’t like me, lil sis. You can’t trust any of them. I’m sorry, but you should stay in karting.

You’d slumped in resignation, briefly looking into the Redbull garage as you walked past - the only team you hadn’t yet gone to talk to. And home to perhaps the only driver who could understand the pressure you felt to live upto your father’s expectation - current reigning champion, Max Verstappen. Otherwise known as the bane of your family’s existence. He’d been the one to break your big brother’s winning streak, the subject of many a heated family discussion over the dinner table about how to defeat in a race. Truly, you hadn’t seen your big brother hate someone before until the day Max had crashed into him, sending him to the hospital and your heart rate into 200bpm as you prayed for his safety. Lewis had been fine, but his winning streak had not as Max went onto P1 that race.

So you had always learnt to stay far, far away from Mad Max. But last year when you’d been having a hard time on one of your karting races, and you paced back and forth during the red flag because normally you’d ask Lewis for help but he had started coming less often these days - you were interrupted by a knock on the door. You ran to open it, thinking your brother had decided to come after all - only to crane your head up to meet the handsome face of the tall Dutch Redbull driver. You’d immediately flushed, on guard just like your family had taught you to be and asking what he was doing - but he had kindly ignored your rudeness and said he happened to be here for another friend and had seen your race, did you need some advice?

You’d been so desperate to win that you had let him in, looking around to make sure no paparazzi had seen as you were sure Lewis would ban you permanently from karting if he caught a whiff of this. To your suprise, Max was so helpful and supportive, giving you excellent pointers and aggressive strategies your brother would never dare guide you towards. You’d gone onto win P1, and after the podium had excitedly gone to find Max and thank him. Of course, schat, he’d replied easily, a handsome smile on his face, making you blush. Since then Max had always been there to guide you at your races, making you win multiple competitions to celebrate together or comfort you after a loss. Your family had no idea, of course, because they would skin both you and Max alive if they ever knew about your close friendship.

But now, things were starting to reach a boiling point as your relationship with your brother became tense as he actively tried to deter your formula career. And Max - your kind, thoughtful friend Max - had definitely noticed this. So he casually informed you that the Redbull academy was recruiting, and personally drove you the trials the next week, and welcomed your excited hug into his broad arms afterwards as you sailed into P1 and were offered an immediate spot on the Redbull F2 team, so grateful that the older, experienced driver had taken such a genuine interest in your racing, unlike your own family.

When you tried to break the good news to your family, shit had obviously hit the fan and they demanded that you decline the position. It’s not that I’m not proud of you baby sis, Lewis had sighed. It’s that you cannot trust Max Verstappen, seriously - he only thinks about himself. He’ll definitely hurt you or use you to hurt me.

You had screamed and cried, saying that Max had been the only one to look out for you these last few months. You’d called the Dutchman for advice, sniffling and saying I’m sorry Maxie, they won’t let me go, I have to decline-

He’d gently interrupted and reminded you that you’re an adult, you know schat? And an incredibly talented driver. You should put yourself first for a change. You’d hesitated, because you’d never done anything without your family closely supervising you before - but where would you go, you say confused. You didn’t know anyone - you know me, Max offered. Come stay at mine while you sort things out, but don’t let it delay starting your F2 season.

You’d started crying again, telling the Dutch driver how lucky you were to have him as a friend. And that’s how you found yourself tucked into his much larger frame, on his private jet en route to Monaco, fast asleep from the emotionally charged day as he lovingly kissed your forehead. And your temporary residence at his penthouse dragged into months into an indefinite stay as he insisted it was safer for you, given the papparazzi that had gone crazy at the youngest Hamilton sibling switching sides - just for now, until it dies down. You’d gratefully accepted, becoming accustomed to his luxurious lifestyle and wanting to be in close proximity to Max. It was hard to control the thumping of your heart as you scolded yourself internally for your crush on the tall driver, who you were sure only saw you as a junior driver to guide.

Before the season started, Max had warned you that your family would interfere and try to turn you against him. You hadn’t taken it seriously, but when Lewis approached you at your first race, demanded to speak to you in person after you’d been blocking his calls for days, Max had been all to happy to get security to escort him away after you’d started becoming upset, just like he knew you would. Don’t pay any mind to him, schat. He’s probably just jealous of your success.

You’d found that hard to believe, because although your big brother had a few annoying traits, he would always be genuinely happy about your wins. But Max had planted the seed of doubt that began to crumble your inner self worth, questioning if your big bro had only been holding you back because he wanted to remain the family champion. Remaining on edge, your anxiety began damaging your racing and dropping you in the rankings. You slept fretfully, paranoid that you were going to be benched and would be forced to go home in humiliation and hear your family’s we told you so.

You let Max climb into your bed one night when he heard your muffled cries, running a soothing hand up and down your back, hungrily enjoying the view of your thick ass as your silky nightie rode up while you sobbed into his strong chest. And when you opened up about all your worries, it was only natural that he offered to be the one to train you, being the current world champion and all, right? You had lit up, so delighted that he had offered, flushed because truly you’d never met anyone so kind and giving like him.

And Max - well, he would never let an opportunity to get back at Lewis slide by. Training his precious little sister, the one he always protectively hid away from the rest of the grid? Oh, it was almost too perfect, he thought darkly. And it was an added bonus that you were so gorgeous, all dark curls, innocent doe eyes and a soft, curvy 5 foot figure under his almost 6 foot frame. But my training is intense, schat. Very strict. He made you promise that you’d do whatever he asked, no matter how you felt, because it was the only way to win - and that you couldn’t tell anyone else about his top secret training methods, especially your big brother. You’d eagerly nodded your agreement, looking up at him with starry eyes and saying Yes Maxie, of course, I trust you, thank you so much for offering, I’m so grateful!

As the weeks went by, Max proved himself to be the best mentor you could ask for. You two would train together, going on morning jogs, drinking the same protein smoothies, discussing the best overtaking techniques. All the time you two spent together made rumours fly around the paddock about the exact nature of your relationship - but Max dismissed them all with a roll of his eyes, telling you that it was so sexist of people to assume you were his girlfriend and not his junior driver. You’d agreed, althought you couldn’t help feeling disappointed that Max didn’t seem to think about you in a romantic sense at all.

Your rankings started improving, but Max had said that you needed a lot more work if you wanted to reach P1, especially given your smaller size compared to the rest of the drivers. You nodded eagerly, curious when he easily picked you up and deposited you in between his thick thighs on his sim rig, ordering you to show him your driving. You’d been doing so well until he started brushing his large hands across your soft waist and whispering naughty things in your ear about how sexy you looked, how hard it was to resist you every night while you slept right next door to him. You’d squealed, confused and asking just what he was doing - Trying to test your ability to focus, to avoid any distractions, Max replies disapprovingly as your car crashed on the screen. Clearly, you have a lot of work to do. This isn’t good enough!

Oh, you’d replied, feeling foolish for thinking anything romantic of it. Max didn’t like you like that, after all. So you two resumed the daily sessions, him torturing you for hours with caresses all over your body, squeezing your soft tits and pinching your nipples through your tight camisoles, and sliding large fingers up the skirt he’d always make you wear to tease your embarrassingly damp slit. You’d gone pink in the face when he first felt it, stuttering out apologies but he just sweetly reassured you that it wasn’t your fault, just a normal reaction - like this, he’d said, pulling your small waist back so you grinded on something very large and hard tucked into his sweats. You’d never felt something like that before, having never had a boyfriend since your family always kept you under their protective eye.

But it felt sooo good, you thought guiltily, hoping Max wouldn’t mind when you would be unable to resist grinding against him some sessions. He never seemed to care, instead progressing you to the next level by slipping his cock out of his sweats one night and letting it bounce up against your most innocent parts. You had gone wide eyed seeing it for the first time, not expecting it to look soo big and thick and angry, making your stomach twist in fear. But it was business as usual as Max angrily scolded you for becoming distracted, making you restart as he began gliding his cock along your puffy folds - always separated by your soaked lace panties, of course.

Once you had become a master at being laser focused, he made you develop your senses next. A good driver is always in tune with the feel, the smell, the sound of the car, he explains. You don’t question him, obediently drooping onto your thick ass in front of his spread thighs as he wraps a silk tie across your eyes. You bite your lip from the sudden disorientation, feeling nervous, but Max’s large palm comfortingly strokes your hair. At his command you poke your tongue out and hold your palms up, waiting for the first test and he almost groans out loud from your sweet gullibility. You correctly identify a bunch of different exotic tasting fruits, specific switches and buttons on the replica steering wheel - and sassy, you giggle, when you feel Max’s cat climb into your lap. He muses that he’s going to have to give you something harder to figure out cause you’re so good as this, making you blush from the praise. You curiously hear a rustle as he steps closer and then he guides your small hands to something very long and thick. You experimentally rub your hands along it, hearing Max hiss. A banana? You say dumbly after a few beats, Cucumber?

Wrong, Max says, sounding a bit breathless. Why don’t you taste it, hmm? You diligently lick the tip of it with your delicate tongue, not recognising the heady, salty taste, and begin licking more and more as you become determined to figure it out. You don’t know how many minutes have passed but you aren’t any closer to guessing it, instead saying It tastes really good, Maxie, what is it? You hear him swear, grip tightening in your hair, and then he orders you to open your mouth wide to get a proper taste, his normally deep voice even huskier than normal. You feel him trace your plush lips with his thumb, making you feel that dirty tingly feeling in between your legs again, before the mysterious warm and thick length is shoved down your throat, making you gag uncontrollably. You whine, trying to pull back and breathe, but Max’s strong hand doesn’t let up as he roughly shoves it in and out of your tight mouth.

Tears drip down your cheeks at the intensity and you’re drooling messily, but Max doesn’t seem to care one bit and you might’ve imagined it but you thought you hear the click of multiple photos being taken. Guessed what it is yet, schat? Max asks mockingly, and you whine, shaking your head. Too bad, maybe this will help you figure it out. He pushes the whole length past your lips as you feel something thick and creamy flood your mouth, giving you no option but to swallow it, licking your lips to try figure out the taste. Afterwards, Max had gently taken the blindfold off, revealing his flushed face, and wipes your tears away sweetly. Sorry I didn’t get the last answer, you say guiltily, upset that you had no clue. It’s alright, doll, Max reassured, I’m sure you’ll get it next time, yeah?

Another thing that you needed to improve was your endurance and stamina. F2 races were a lot more demanding than karting, Max pointed out, noticing how tired you would be after a race. He increased the frequency of your runs and workouts, always helping you stretch before and letting his dark gaze hungrily linger on your pliant body underneath him. You’d wear the cutest little yoga shorts and sports bras, leaving your sensitive chocolate-toned skin on display for him, and it was almost too easy to accidentally slide in between your legs or brush the swell of your breasts as he stretched you out, bending your legs right back up over your head and leaving you breathless. But it wasn’t enough for Max as you consistently scored on the podium now but never P1. So he proposed the ultimate endurance training, that all the F1 drivers did regularly - fucking.

Fu-you mean, making love?! You’d shrieked hysterically, whipping your head up as he brought it up casually when you two were watched a movie, cuddled up on the couch. He’d smirked, Sure darling, making love.

You’d looked nervous, like a deer in headlights, telling him you weren’t sure, you felt uncomfortable doing that for the first time…but Max’s stormy expression left no room for discussion. Everyone on the grid does it, all the time. Even your older brother, he said condescendingly. It’s a pretty good stress relief. Trust me, your driving will become so much faster.

You innocently eat up Max’s blatant lies, hesitantly asking if you should get a boyfriend then, that cute engineer from the Redbull garage had asked you out after all- No! Max says heatedly, glaring furiously at the thought of some other man laying their hands on what belonged to him. You look at him, confused how he expects you to- I mean, no, it’s fine schat, it’s part of your training after all, so I’ll take care of you, okay?

You flushed prettily, biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together at the thought of Max taking your virginity, as your romantic feelings had only grown the more time you spent with him. And soon enough, later that night, Max had climbed into your bed again to find you shyly waiting for him, dressed in that silky nightie he liked. Pulling it up over your hips, he moved your lace panties to the side and made you blush as he hungrily eyed your dripping innocence, just like he’d done many times while you’d been peacefully sleeping, unaware of the twisted desires your mentor had for you. He’d then stretched you out on his thick fingers, then replaced them with his even thicker cock - no condom, of course - sickly enjoying the tears streaming down your face as you sweetly moaned from pain and pleasure. Within minutes he was claiming you as his, sending you spiralling into orgasm after orgasm, screaming his name as you fell apart from overstimulation.

Max smirked at your small frame that was now passed out below him - you’d need a lot more training if this is all you could handle, he thought darkly as he gripped your petite waist, easily continuing to move you up and down his fat cock like a ragdoll. You moan blissfully in your sleep as he stretched out your virgin cunny. Maybe multiple times a day, Max decided, cause you just felt too damn good. In his bed next time, on the kitchen counter, in your driver’s room before the race and then maybe again after- and at least once in a hotel room where he neighboured Lewis. He could just imagine your wide eyes, teary from panic as you struggled to keep your moans quiet, begging him Maxie please, please not so rough as his thrusts repeatedly banged the headboard against the wall, making it clear to his rival just what kind of filthy things Max Verstappen was doing to his precious little sister.

The dirty, possessive thought makes him cum with a guttural moan, pumping you full of his generous load as he buries his flushed face in between your pretty tits to lick and bite at them. But what Max most looked forward to was the look on Lewis’ face when you would eventually show up to the paddock one day, F2 trophy in hand and a glittering rock on your ring finger to match, beaming in anticipation of replacing the Hamilton surname with Verstappen.

And no, Max would not be inviting him to the wedding.

—————————————————————————

A/N: ok anyways. This is a ridiculous amount of smut for me to have churned out in less than a day I need to touch some grass 🙏 as always lmk what you think and send in some more requests!

[darklordofthesimp]

Delirium (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Summary: Being partnered with Ghost was never easy. However, when you find him bleeding out on the kitchen floor and delirious from blood loss, you make a discovery. The L.T loves to talk.

Requested by Anon: #57 You're shaking.

A/N: Some Sunshine to feed you while I work on Anything III.

Category: Mutual Pining

Warnings: Description of injury || Graphic language

You weren't a medic by any means. 

There was the combat first aid course that you were all forced to do during basic training, but that had been a century ago. You'd handled your own injuries when an enemy sniper would get a lucky shot. Again, there's not much to do there other than put some pressure on it.

Otherwise, you were fairly inexperienced when it came to handling injured team members. There were shortfalls to being a sniper, hand-to-hand combat wasn't as relevant and having to provide first aid was rare. 

You call them shortfalls because now, in a situation where those skills are required, you're fucking struggling. 

You'd opened the door to the safe house with a sigh, frowning when you couldn't see Ghost through the windows. You'd assumed he'd be waiting for you to arrive from your nest but clearly, he didn't give enough of a fuck to wait around. 

You could have died en route and he'd be sleeping. 

For some reason, the thought hurt. 

You could think of a million things that he probably thought more important than you; staring at a wall being high on the list. What you hadn’t expected, was to find him collapsed on the kitchen floor.

“Ghost,” you rasped, choking on his name. His eyes flickered open at the sound of your voice, the relief palpable in his gaze. He groaned and let his head fall back against the wall with a strangled noise. You were frozen. You’d never seen him injured and honestly, you thought that you never would. 

You’d even told Soap that Ghost was probably just a bootleg Robo-Cop beneath the mask.  

But, the blood soaking through his uniform said otherwise. 

“You gonna give me hand or not?” His voice was low and rough. It had no edge, though. There was no bite behind his words like there usually was and it scared you. The man hated your guts and if he was too injured to convey that then he was definitely dying. 

“Oh God,” you breathed, leaning your rifle against the wall slowly. Your eyes never left his crumpled form and his eyes never left your face. “Oh God.” 

You slid to your knees, rushing to his side with frantic curses. You couldn’t see the extent of the wound from beneath his armour and he clearly didn’t have enough strength to take it off himself. 

“Stab wound,” Ghost offered the cause of injury through gritted teeth. “Got me good.” 

“This shit needs to come off,” you tugged at his armour, reaching for the quick-release cord. The man groaned but he didn’t object. One hard tug of the plastic ligature had the vest falling apart at every seam, the line now loose in your hand. 

“Fuck,” the man gave a startled chuckle, taking a large breath with his chest free from pressure. “Feel better already.” 

You didn’t reply, eyes narrowed on the wound beneath his ribs. You pulled up his shirt, tucking it beneath his arms as you scanned over the injury. It was clean cut, a clear entry wound that was steadily leaking a shit tonne of blood. 

No sounds of air sucking in through the jagged flesh and you thanked whoever was listening that it wasn’t a punctured lung. You didn’t have any seals on you and you didn’t want to slap him with some duct tape instead. He’d never let you live that down.

“How’s it lookin’, Sunshine?” Ghost asked, breathing heavily.

“Unfortunately,” you began, pressing the cotton padding from your kit against the wound, “if you apply pressure, you’ll live.” 

“Unfortunately?” He coughed,  the sound strained and you could tell he immediately regretted the movement. 

“Very fucking unfortunate,” you confirmed with faux seriousness. 

You stuck a gauze pad to the wound once you had finished packing it, reaching into your med pouch for a bandage. You’d wrap it around his midriff to keep pressure on the wound, you decided. 

“A ray of Sunshine you are, as per fuckin’ usual.” 

You clenched your jaw, reminding yourself that he was injured and that you couldn’t stick a finger knuckle-deep in his wound as retaliation. At the very least, he was back to hating you. Meant he wasn’t dying any time soon. 

You frowned at the bandage in your hands, desperately trying to remove the plastic wrapping. You couldn’t think straight and your body felt jittery as the adrenline began to settle. You couldn’t believe how vulnerable he was, unable to gather the strength to take off his own body armour. 

You hated it. 

Why the fuck couldn’t you open this wrapping? 

You pulled harder on the plastic, trying to bring your heart rate down. Why were you breathing so hard? 

A gloved hand fell over your own. 

Your frantic tugging came to an immediate halt and your eyes snapped up to meet his, startled. Ghost's gaze was half lidded but just as intense as always, grazing over your features. Heat flushed through your body at his drunken stare. You knew it was from the blood loss, you knew he could barely see straight, but that kind of look was reserved for someone he was sharing a bed with and you couldn't function at the sight of it. 

For a moment he said nothing, blinking slowly- too slowly- as he took in a breath. 

"Relax, kid," he murmured eventually. "I'm okay."

You swallowed hard. 

His fingers were soft over your own, too weak to apply pressure but curled over your hand just the same. 

"I am relaxed." You bit back at him, returning your gaze to the stupid fucking bandage beneath both of your hands. You didn't want him to see how much this affected you, you didn't want him to think you were a cowardly mess. 

There was a soft huff as he patted your hand lightly. "You're shaking, Sunshine."

You sucked in a breath.

Your eyes flickered back to meet his, lips trembling at your exposure. He knew. The gentleness in his gaze was otherworldly, so foreign you wondered if it was even Simon Riley beneath the mask. Blood loss was clearly doing a number on him and he was doing a number on you. 

“I’m a sniper, Sir.” You coughed, trying to tear yourself from the sudden intimacy of the situation. “I don’t shake.”

Ghost tutted from beneath his mask. 

“Haven’t been with the right bloke, then.” 

Your jaw dropped. 

Ghost blinked at you as though he couldn’t believe what had come out of his mouth, either. Jesus fucking Christ. You suddenly realised why Soap had made fun of Ghost for never drinking when you’d all be at the pub. You remembered asking the Sarge why the masked enigma would always bail after an hour or two and his response was simple. 

“The L.T can’t hold his tongue when he’s on the piss.” 

You thought that implied aggression. 

Clearly not.

“There is no right bloke,” you rasped, slowly pulling the bandage from beneath his hand. The loss of contact left you feeling empty but suddenly you could breathe a little easier. 

Your fingers shook violently as you tried for the plastic wrapper again and your gaze flickered to Ghost’s face, praying he hadn’t noticed. You should have known better. 

His eyes were on your trembling digits, a soft exhale making it’s way to your ears. 

“Looks like I’ve proved you wrong, Sunshine.” 

The words were low but there was no heat behind them. It didn’t feel lustful, they were murmured like an afterthought, his mind elsewhere. You wondered where Simon Riley disappeared to in his head when he looked at you. 

“You crack a lot of jokes for someone who’s a literal shish kebab,” you snapped, tearing at the plastic wrapping with your teeth. Finally, the bandage came loose.

“And you talk a lot of shit for someone who cares more than they let on.” The words were fired back, demanding your attention. 

You stared at him for a long moment, resisting the urge to squirm beneath his dark gaze. You’d never seen that expression on him before, as though he were daring you to disagree. As if he were waiting for you to say something. 

“Can’t care too much in this business, Sir.” You choked on the words, unravelling the bandage.

“I believed that once,” he tilted his head. 

“And now?” You prodded, leaning over him to wrap the bandage around his midriff. You tried to ignore how close your face was to his, how your fingers trailed against the skin of his stomach. The Lieutenant shivered beneath your touch and you kept your gaze downcast. 

Fingers gripped your chin softly and you gasped as he tilted your face upward. 

You were half on top of him, nose to nose and his stuttered exhale brushed against your lips. Simon’s eyes were half lidded and this close you could see the blue of his eyes, a stormy ocean that swallowed you whole. You were caught in it’s rip tide, drowning in the reverence of his stare. 

“Now,” he murmured, lazily examining our features. His eyes lingered on your parted lips, his thumb slowly swiping your bottom lip. “Could say I’ve had a change of heart.” 

[zyhkoo]

☆ don’t blame me

jealous batboys x f!reader

requested by anon

Dick

As his partner, it was expected for him to cling around you. No matter where you went, he was there.

Your apartment, the supermarket, outside your work area- anywhere really.

He doesn’t mind if you get along with his friends and family, he’s very happy that you get along with them. But if Dick sees someone he doesn’t know, smiling and spending time with you. That’s when he gets jealous.

Whenever he sees the two of you talking, he’d often chime into the conversation as well.

He leans towards you, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to his body as he interrupts the conversation.

He glances at the man that you have been talking to, narrowing his eyes slightly.

He doesn’t say anything to the man, for now. Instead, he glances down at you, a small smile on his face. “Hi, babe.”

You look back at him “Oh, Hi Dick this is-“

“Uh, huh.” He nods, completely ignoring the man as he keeps his gaze fixed on you.

He pulls you even closer to his side. “I was just looking for you.”

“I missed you.” He murmurs, his hand on the side of your waist, gently massaging your hip.

You looked at him skeptically “You just saw me an hour ago?” you crossed your arms.

He tilted his head. “And?” A slight pout formed on his face. “Can’t I miss my girlfriend?”

The man in front of you two chuckled “Well, my name is Romhelle, I was her former classmate back in high school.” he explained.

That made him immediately stop pouting. His eyes darted towards Romhelle, silently sizing him up.

His grip around your waist tightens ever so slightly.

“Oh? You two go way back then, huh?” He tried to sound as casual as he could, but clearly, there was a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“Not so.” Romhelle replied “We weren’t that close.” he added. You glared at Dick “See? You don’t have anything to worry about.”

He chuckled quietly, glancing down at you before his gaze returned to Romhelle. “Oh, I’m not worried. I know she’s mine,”

His hand moved from your hip, and to your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

After bantering with the guy, he immediately got along with him.

He was laughing, talking with him like they were best friends and as if he wasn’t jealous a moment ago.

You only stood there absolutely baffled.

Jason

Jason doesn’t like sharing unless it's with you.

Stephanie asking if he could share the cookies he bought? Nope, it’s his.

Tim asking if he could borrow his controller? Just use your own.

Damian borrowing his equipment? Absolutely not.

He would especially be Jealous if you got along with his family members. The way you laughed and enjoyed your time with them made him feel so petty.

He doesn't know why he was like this, but he always hated it when you interacted with them. He would always try to find reasons to pull you away from them, whether it be 'training' for a mission or going on patrol.

He huffed as he leaned back into the couch. His eyes are not leaving you talking with Damian. He knew he should not be jealous over something so small. He was his little brother after all, why is he so worked up about him? I mean, he’s so much better than some kid.

When Damian left, you finally noticed what was up with your boyfriend.

“What’s the matter?” you asked. He looked up at you, arms still crossed over his chest.

He let out a huff, avoiding eye contact as he talked. “I’m not jealous.”

You only chuckled “I didn’t ask if you were jealous.”

You sat on the floor with him and cupped his face, squishing it a bit “C’mere. Tell me what's wrong.” you coed teasing him a bit.

He pouted more when you squished his cheeks. He tried to look annoyed and upset, but it was hard not to feel happy with you. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked away, mumbling. “It’s stupid.”

You looked softly at his eyes “Come on, tell me.”

“Mn? Why not?” you asked.

“Because they’re annoying and obnoxious. Why are you getting along with them so easily?”

You caressed his face “Hey, there's no need to be jealous. I just enjoy their company, that's all. It doesn’t mean I enjoy yours less.” you reassured him.

He pouted as you caressed the side of his face. He leaned into your touch slightly.

“I’m not jealous.” He mumbled, still pouting. “I just don’t know why you like them so much when they’re so annoying.”

You only chuckled softly “Oh, come here you.”

You grabbed his face and placed a hard kiss on his cheek.

He huffs, his face was dusted pink as he refuses to look at you.

“You’re embarrassing me.” he said as he leaned to your touch anyway.

You placed another kiss on the same spot “That’s the point.”

He couldn’t fight the small smile that tugged at his lips as you continued placing kisses on his cheek. He felt a warm sensation spread in his chest.

Stephanie walks in the two of you, her gaze darkened as she looked at the two of you with a scowl.

“Gross, get a room!” she exclaims.

Jason glares at Stephanie as soon as he notices her standing there.

“Why don’t you learn how to knock, Blondie?”

Bruce

Bruce doesn’t really get possesive, he knows he’s yours and you know your his.

If a guy would hit on you, he would just tell them to back off. But if someone way out of your league has your attention, that’s when he gets jealous. Why would you enjoy your time with a lame person?

When he introduced you to Clark, he had never been this Jealous his entire life.

How did you get along with him so easily? He doesn’t get it, he literally has a reporter salary.

On the drive back to Gotham, you noticed he was more silent and brooding as usual.

“What’s wrong, love?” you asked.

“Nothing.” he grumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“You know you can’t lie to me, Bruce.” You said, rolling your eyes.

He stayed quiet for a few moments before letting out a sigh.

“Clark.” he muttered under his breath, a scowl on his face.

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hold back a snort.

“What about him?” you asked, pretending to be clueless.

Bruce's scowl deepened as he shot you a sideways glance.

“You were getting along with him pretty well.” he grumbled, his tone laced with annoyance.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his jealousy. “Are you...jealous?”

Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightened even more.

“Jealous? Me? Of Kent?” he huffed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Please.”

You placed a hand on his thigh, trying to calm him down.

"Don't worry, love. You have nothing to be jealous about." you assured him gently.

His body immediately relaxed at your touch, and he reached down to cover your hand with his.

"I know." he muttered, his scowl softening slightly. "It's just... Clark has a way of getting under my skin."

"You were laughing at his jokes," he remarked, "...You never laugh at my jokes."

“But you don’t do jokes.”

"I can do jokes," he protested, "I just... choose not to."

You smiled, finding his grumpy expression endearing.

"Sure you do," you teased, patting his thigh.

He let out another huff of annoyance.

"It was... annoying."

“You think everything Clark does is annoying." you pointed out.

[holylulusworld]

Pipsqueak & Grumpy

Summary: Logan defends you.

Pairing: Wolverine (Logan Howlett) x Plussized (short) Reader

Warnings: grumpy Wolverine (you know him), sunshine reader, plus-sized reader, bullying/fat-shaming, protective Wolverine

A/N: Please consider that I write for the taller version of Wolverine from the movies, not the comics.

“Slow down, big grump,” you giggle because your boyfriend (or not boyfriend because Logan hates the word) is stomping toward the bookstore. If he hates anything, it’s shopping, but he makes an exception for you. His hold on your hand is light, but it makes your heart flutter. “Logan.”

“What is it, Pipsqueak?” He stops in his tracks, almost making you bump into his back. Logan cocks one brow while looking down at you. “I’m not smoking.”

“I asked you to slow down.” You pout. “My legs are shorter, and you’re so fast.”

“Aw, do you want me to carry you?” Logan grabs your waist, intending to lift you. “I could throw you over my shoulder and carry you around. No problem, sweet Pipsqueak.”

“No!” You playfully swat his chest. “That’s for the bedroom only.” Your eyes narrow as you watch three girls and their boyfriends walk toward you and Logan. They watch you interact and start laughing.

“Man, I wouldn’t try lifting that chubby bumblebee,” one of the boys laughs. “You’ll break your back, or worse.”

Logan dips his head as they step closer. He grits his teeth, already tensing. One more word from the idiots not knowing what they got themselves into, and there will be blood coloring the street. Not Logan’s, though.

“First and final warning,” your boyfriend growls in their direction. “Get the fuck away from me and my girlfriend.” Your heart flutters because Logan called you his girlfriend in front of others; you only wish it wasn’t at that moment.

“GIRLFRIEND?” One of the girls says, scoffing. “You could do so much better. You’re not that old.” The group starts laughing when the boy talking shit calls you a fat, short cow.

Logan growls like the animal he can turn into. He gently cups your face and pecks your temple before he turns on his heels. Logan looks the boys up and down, a dark smirk on his lips.

One of them already steps back, tugging at his girlfriend’s hand.

“So, you think you can come here and talk like that about my girlfriend?” Logan’s voice alone makes the girls whimper. They didn’t expect Logan to look like a feral wolf when he turned around. “I see you need me to tell you how to treat a woman, right.”

“Sir, they didn’t mean to-.” The last boy raises his hands in surrender and walks back. “Uh, I didn’t say a thing.”

“You didn’t say a thing; that’s right.” Wolverine steps even closer. “At least your friends were brave enough to believe they could make fun of my girl. You were just standing next to them, laughing like a hyena. A real man would never allow his friends to do such a shady thing.”

“Sir…” The girl laughing at you squeaks. “But she’s…” She screams in terror when Logan lifts his left arm and slowly slides his claws out. He chuckles darkly when the girl wets her pants. “Nooooo!”

“What will it be, boys?” Logan asks, sliding the claws on his right hand out. “A taste of my claws, or you on your knees begging my beautiful girl for forgiveness.”

He cocks his head, waiting for their answer. The girls run off, while the boys fall to their knees, murmuring apologies.

“I can’t hear you!” Wolverine yells. “Louder! I want everyone to know that you are little boys with small dicks and even smaller brains. You will tell them that you said all this shit because you are not man enough to satisfy a hot-blooded woman like my girlfriend.”

“We are little boys with small dicks and even smaller brains,” the boys say in unison. “We are not man enough to satisfy your hot-blooded woman.”

“Damn right,” Logan huffs. He slides his claws back in, but steps closer to the kneeling boys. “You’ll stay like that for ten more minutes and repeat the words. If,” he says while sliding his claws back out, "you ever say something like that to anyone ever again, I’ll find you and cut your tiny cocks off.”

As fast as he put the group into their place, Logan turned back around, his features softening.

“Now, Pipsqueak, we are going to get the books you wanted,” Logan smirks when you look up at him like he’s your hero (and he truly is in any way).

He grabs your waist, easily lifts you, and throws you over his shoulders, laughing loudly as people stop walking only to stare at the bizarre scene. The boys are still reciting the words, while Logan carries you toward the bookstore, whistling a tune.

“Logan,” you giggle and laugh. “Let me down!”

“Never, Pipsqueak,” he laughs and swats your ass with his hand. “I’d never let you down.”

Tags in reblog.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Slippery Rendezvous

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha doesn’t approve of your feelings for Bucky despite your many attempts to convince her that he is the man for you. What else can you do when she forbids you to date any of her friends?

Squares Filled: natasha romanoff / black widow (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

You wake up to an empty bed. What did you expect? That he’d stay? Bucky isn’t known to spend the night after fucking you but you keep wishing he would. You run your hand down his side of the bed and feel the cool sheets. He must have left early in the morning so that your sister wouldn’t see him.

It’s not like she hates him but she hates the idea of you being with any one of her “coworkers”. Natasha isn’t shy when it comes to relationships and often encourages you to go out and have fun with different men. She loves dating even if she doesn’t show it, and you love telling her about all the dates you get to go on. The issue is that she doesn’t want you dating anyone she knows. She knows the baggage that comes with the men she knows and doesn’t want you mixed up with it.

You went to University to get a degree as a voice actor. You’ve gotten gigs across the country but ultimately settled in New York where you got a job working on a popular animated television series. You’re already in your third season and have no plans of stopping anytime soon. Natasha loves to tell you how normal you are and how different you are compared to the shit she goes through every day.

You’re not a spy and you have no desire to be a spy. You’re not Natasha’s biological sister because you came into her life well after she got done with the Red Room training. She was on a mission to kill your father for all the bad shit he has been doing. You hated the man and had always wanted to leave. However, your mother died at birth and you were a minor at the time. He always hid his shady shit which is why he didn’t get convicted for anything.

She saved you and she adopted you a couple of years later. You don’t blame her for your father’s death even if she did pull the trigger. He’s a bad man who is rotting in Hell and you’re better off for it. Now, you have a successful job and are in love with the infamous Winter Soldier. Only he doesn’t know it and if he does, he doesn’t do anything about it.

You two met when Natasha was having a party at the Avengers Compound. She didn’t want you to go but you insisted that with her by your side, you’ll be fine. It’s not like the Avengers are going to pick a fight with you or anything. Even Bruce had his alter ego under control, so she relented and let you come.

Her world is and was much different than yours. She told stories of how she went to space, how she kicked someone’s ass, and how she infiltrated an organization. All you have to show for is the work you’ve done for entertainment. You’re not nearly as special as any of them but Bucky makes you feel like you are.

He kept to himself in the corner of the room drinking something that wasn’t alcohol when you approached him.

“Hi. Do you mind if I join you?”

“No, go ahead,” he clears his throat.

“I’m Y/N. I’m Natasha’s sister. Adopted sister, actually, but she feels like a real one to me. What’s your name?”

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” he chuckles.

“I know who you are but I’d thought I’d be polite and let you introduce yourself instead of assuming I know everything about you.”

“Right,” he nods. “I’m Bucky.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

You two fell into conversation that lasted well past the party. Natasha had a secret thing for Steve and didn’t mind staying over as long as you were safe and okay with staying. You left that night with thoughts of Bucky and when the next time you were going to see him, but Natasha didn’t share your enthusiasm.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do but I don’t want you seeing Bucky.”

“Funny. That sounds exactly like you telling me what to do,” you scoff.

“I mean it, Y/N. Bucky is a good guy now but he wasn’t always like this. He’s not all the way back yet and I don’t want you getting hurt. With any of them. They have too much baggage and you don’t need something like that in your life.”

You look out the window in annoyance.

“I just spent the last two hours talking to a guy who made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. I’m not saying I want to marry the guy but I felt something that I haven’t felt with any of the guys I’ve dated.”

“I knew bringing you to that party was a bad idea,” she scoffs. “You’re not seeing Bucky. End of story.”

“I am an adult, Nat. Let me make my own decisions. Let me decide if he’s worth the heartbreak.”

“He will do more than break your heart. He will break you. He didn’t get his name for nothing. His body count is well into the hundreds if not thousands. I am not worried about him breaking your heart. I’m worried about him killing you. I mean it, Y/N. Stay away from that one.”

You tried, God knows you tried, but there is something about Bucky that you couldn’t stay away from. You formed friendships with Wanda and Thor which gave you an excuse of going to the compound where you knew Bucky was living. Wanda caught on pretty quickly at what you were trying to do since she can read minds and all that, and she agreed to keep your affair with Bucky from your sister.

You’re not trying to hurt Natasha but you fell for Bucky and fell for him hard. He just never stays the night like you hope he does.

You get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where you hear the shower going. Natasha must be in there. You slip in and knock on the door to let her know that you’re inside the bathroom with her.

“Hey, Nat, I’m just going to brush my teeth. I’ll be out shortly.”

You slip in, close the door behind you, and walk over to the sink.

“I’m not Nat.”

You tense when you hear Bucky’s deep voice but then smile when you realize he slept the night in your bed. The curtain slides to the side just enough for him to peek his head out of it, and you turn to face him.

“I thought you left last night.”

“Nope. I wanted to stay the night with you. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

He closes the curtain again and resumes cleaning himself.

“Got any plans today?”

You’re about to answer when you hear the front door slam open and shut. Natasha is the only one who has a key so she must be back. If she found out Bucky has not only been dating you but secretly fucking you, she’d have a heart attack and probably kill him.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” The bathroom door shakes and you do the first thing that comes to mind. You quickly hop in the shower, fully clothed, and look at Bucky who smirks. The door opens and Nat walks in. “Y/N?”

“I’m in the shower!” Bucky’s mouth opens so you place your hand over it so he understands he needs to be quiet. “What do you want?”

“Listen, Steve and some of the guys are having a cookout at Clint’s farm. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

“Really? You’ll let me go?”

“I feel bad and I shouldn’t keep you away from your friends.”

“Is Bucky going to be there?”

Bucky nods and looks at you with mischievous eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“I invited you because Wanda and Thor will be there. They’re your friends.”

“I know.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine, Nat. I’ll hang with them.”

“Okay. We leave in an hour.”

She leaves the bathroom and you remove your hand from Bucky’s mouth knowing you didn’t need it to be there. He knows Natasha’s opinion of him and how she wouldn’t approve of you two dating. He just wanted to feel your hands on him if he’s being honest.

“Great, now I’m all wet. Look what you did.”

“I like it when you’re wet,” he smirks.

You shove his shoulder and scoff playfully but he grabs you and pulls you into him. He slides his hands into your hair and kisses you. He must forget the situation you’re in because you can feel his growing arousal on your stomach.

“No, Bucky, we should stop. I will not be tempted into shower sex again. Remember what happened last time?”

“Damn, my arm malfunctions one time and you’re triggered.”

“Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself at this cookout?”

“No,” he chuckles. “It’s gonna be hard not to. Now I’m picturing you wet.”

“Hurry up and leave before she finds you in here. I’d rather not know what a fight between Black Widow and the Winter Soldier looks like.”

You slip out of the shower and back to your room without your sister noticing. While you’d like your relationship to be out in the open, sneaking around is just too much damn fun.

x

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[nnephthyss]

i went back on my words and i wrote a toji fic hehe

∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

plot: you were forced into a marriage and the conversation of having a child comes up.

warnings: manhandling, slightly forced at first, dominant toji, breeding, breeding kink, mating press, eating pussy, fingering, cum eating, multiple orgasms

sorry if this shit, it’s my first toji fic and he has a strong personality to write.

wc: 1.8k

∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

getting married to toji was not something that was expected or planned for. toji had no desire to marry you because he despises sorcerers, and unfortunately, you fall into that category. the decision to marry was out of your control and was not something toji wanted either.

now your last name being fushiguro, you had to be a good wife to him. even though you hated the man’s guts, being nice was required. just having a ceremony with both of your parents, toji is now laying on your shared bed, watching you shuffle through some clothes to change into.

“they really expect you to breed with a non-sorcerer?” he asks in that gruffly tone he always has. his voice was deep and attractive. a glare comes to your face because you were not in the mood to talk about sex especially if it involves a child. just thinking about it makes you wanna throw up. having sex with toji? a no go.

“i guess so toji. put two and two together..” yeah you were a spunky girl, there’s no way you weren’t gonna give him any attitude. the mood you’re in only makes a smirk come to his face. he loves when you’re like this, it both gets him turned on and entertained. “what’s gotcha ya’ into this little mood?”

his question makes you turn to him. fuck, he was so infuriatingly attractive. the way his long legs spread across the bed, scar stretching with the smirk he’s got on his pretty lips. clearly the answer was him. he’s always getting you riled up and for no reason.

“i’m not having sex with you toji. i’m not giving you a child.” his eyebrows furrow immediately at your harsh words. what if he wanted a child? he didn’t but what if he did. i mean sex with you sounded quite nice actually, even if he looked at you like you were a piece of ass.

“the fuck you wont.” this catches you off guard. you turn to him in the middle of shimming down your dress. his eyes watch as the fabric slips down your body and to your ankles. he could tell you and a nice body from the way the dress hugged your curves but now? getting a full view of your ass and tits? he was loving it.

he was slightly caught off guard though. his eyes are glued to your breasts. you didn’t have a bra on, just going to put on a t-shirt and roll on to bed. “stop staring.” you mutter and reach for the dresser, grabbing the shirt and slipping it over your head.

he clears his throat, his usual smirk coming back to his face. “but what if i don’t wanna.?” he gets up from the bed, walking towards you. he was a big man, instantly cowering beneath him you shoot him a confused look. “uh what’re you doing.?” he reaches out, twirling a loose strand of your hair.

“why don’t we make that baby tonight.?” your body shudders, just the thought of that makes you both flustered and disgusted. of course your answer was gonna be ‘no’ but the man, grabs you by your hips, throwing you over his shoulder. you yelp, fists beating his broad back. “let me go.!” and he does, dropping you onto the bed on your back.

you scoot backward but he grabs your ankles, yanking you back down. “what the fuck?!?” you yell, kicking at him. “calm down, sweetheart.” he chuckles. he wasn’t planning on letting you go, insisting on having this baby tonight.

is he fucking crazy? manhandling you like this and asking you for a child just like that. you just got married, not willingly and now he wants to implant a little toji inside of you. he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath him.

“toji, please.” you plead with him, thinking he’s gonna hurt you. he smirks at you. what an ass. he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt “m’ not gonna hurt you baby, just let me make you feel good yeah?”

your eyebrows furrow and your expression softens. you’ve been so caught up in being scared and not wanting this child that you didn’t realize your soaking wet, cunt aching for this. there was no way you were this needy. “hell no.” you hiss at him.

you weren’t letting him have the satisfaction that he wanted. he runs a hand down your thigh, eyes on your facial expressions. “can’t we just have a little fun?” he gives you a fake pout, thumb rubbing over the length of the damp fabric of your panties and you can see the realization cross his face when he feels how wet you are for him.

“all for me?” he looked at you with his deep blue eyes that had a hint of mischief in them. you felt a jolt of excitement and nervousness, maybe even shame? you hesitated as he began to slide a finger beneath your panties. his fingers were large and seemed too thick to fit inside you, making you doubt that his dick wouldn’t be able to either.

without a second to waste he hooks his fingers along the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. you didn’t have any words, speechless you just watch as he kneels between your thighs. “what’re you doing? can’t we just skip to the kid part.?” you ask him, your voice unsure.

he chuckles which makes your eyebrows furrow. his eyes land directly on your leaky cunt, all wet just for him. he holds your thighs open firmly with his large, calloused hands. “gotta get you ready first.” leaning forward, running his tongue through your drenched folds.

so no foreplay? breath hitching, you moan at his hot tongue making contact with your heat. “toji, cmon..” you still try and protest with his tongue already develing deep inside of you, hips bucking up at the sensations it brings you.

“f-ffuck..” and he grins against you. how the hell did a little conversation end up with him eating you out? hand running down your thighs he brings a finger to your entrance. you prop yourself up on your shoulders to get a better look at him and what he’s doing. you tasted magnificent to him, he loved the sweet, bitter taste. better than he ever could have imagined.

gasping, his finger slips inside of you. your face was full of pleasure as his tongue worked over your clit. breathing heavy and whining as he started to curl his finger in and out of you. now that you're in this position it wasn’t that bad. it felt good even, better than good. your thighs threaten to quake, shaking as pleasure rips through your entire body.

“are you really gonna cum already?” he mocks you and a glare comes to your face but is quickly overshadowed by a pleasure filled expression when he adds a second finger, stretching out your gummy walls. he can feel the way you tighten around him, warning him that you’re close.

“s-shut up.” pouting at him didn’t help because he just sucks down on your clit which sends signals to your brain that you’re definitely gonna cum. hand coming down into his hair, while the other ones buried in the sheets, you whine. you mutter his name over and over again and his shoulders shake, he’s laughing at you.

too far gone you don’t respond and just tilt your head back. his fingers work skillfully inside of you, curling and rubbing that sweet spot, giving you your first orgasm of the night. crying out, you grip tightly onto the sheets underneath you. not slowing down, the man continues to suck and work your sensitive cunt over. you physically have to push his head back to get him to stop but he finally does. finished, he licks you clean, tasting how sweet you are when you climax.

you pout at him, eyes narrowed when he leans up. “whattt.? i just made you cum, sweetheart. don’t look at me like that.” he chuckles at you, working on getting his jeans off. scooting back, you watch his hands work. he slips them off after a few seconds and frees his aching cock from his boxers.

you audibly curse to yourself and he laughs. he was huge, long and thick. no way fucking way that was fitting inside of you. shaking your head no with a “nuh uh.” getting ready to scoot away from him, he pulls you back to the middle of the bed by your feet.

“c‘mon pretty girl. you took my fingers. i’m sure this pretty cunt can take my cock.” he tosses of his shirt, revealing his broad chest and toned torso so you do the same, revealing your breasts.

not wanting a child you're still trying to protest but he grabs ahold of your thighs and pulls you closer, kneeling on the bed.

you grunt, when he puts you into a mating press, knees to your neglected breasts. looking away from him, with a pout on your face that instantly fades away once he stuffs his leaky cock inside of your aching cunt. he groans as you take him in fully, squeezing him with your spongy walls.

you felt too full, walls stretching to make room for him. your hands finally find a place to rest as he slams his hips into you without a warning. “o-oh shittt!” you whine, eyes closing shut and hands grasping onto his shoulders.

he was a greedy man and as a greedy man he pounds into you roughly, trying to get as deep into you as he could so when he does cum, he can plant a little baby inside your tummy.

he watches your face, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging wide open. his lips curl, smirking at how dumb you look that he’s fucking you so good. “hey, look at me. wanna see your eyes when i fill up this pretty pussy.”

groaning, your eyes open and look into his. his hands snake up the top of your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh as he holds you still for his taking. stomach was twisting with pleasure, cunt clamping down onto his speedy cock. “g’nna cum toji.” words coming out of your mouth in a pant. he could feel his own stomach surge with pleasure, thrusts getting a bit sloppier.

his tip repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside of you, making your toes curl with pleasure. eyes rolling back, you climax, cumming hard on his cock. with a grunt he cums too, filling your messy cunt up. you're breathing hard, grasping onto him as he pulls back slightly, holding your knees firmly to your chest so his cum can leak into your womb.

he chuckles at your fucked-out look, leaving his cock buried deep inside if you make sure you milk as much as you can out of him. you groan at him and look away, hating the way you were gonna have a child with this man. the pleasure was good but was it really worth a baby, wasn’t really your choice anyways so it didn’t matter.

∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

[nadvs]

omg what if basketball!rafe takes reader out to dinner after a game or something, from sleeping with the enemy’s pleaseee

AHH SO CUTE YES OFC 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic

they keep hooking up after their first night together and rafe is in shock over how good the sex is and how much he enjoys her company. he’s a ‘hit it and quit it’ type of guy but he cannot get enough of her to the point where he can hardly wait for games against her college’s team because it’s a promise that he’ll see her.

one night a few weeks after they start being friends with benefits, his team suffers a loss by a few points against their worst rivals. he’s seething. the result of a game has a crazy effect on him. it always does.

he finds her courtside and while everyone around her is celebrating, she goes still once she notices him approaching her.

“close game,” she says, tilting her head while she looks up at him. at this point, she knows well enough how hard losses hit him.

eyes are on them. she can feel people judging how close she’s gotten to her side of the rivalry’s most hated athlete, but she doesn’t care.

rafe can tell she’s trying to make him feel better. underneath their usual harsh sarcasm and jokey insults, they’re two people who have a friendship built on sincere compatibility.

“your refs should be fired,” he mutters, pissed at how many calls against his opponents were missed. he’s sweaty and breathless from the game, his chest rising and falling at full tilt.

“oh, i’ll personally see to it,” she jokes. he scoffs, hating that he can’t stifle his smile.

“be ready in an hour,” rafe tells her. “i’ll pick you up from your dorm.”

“for what?”

“dinner,” he says assertively.

before he leaves, he pulls her in for a kiss. it’s a bonus that her ex sees. when she told him she wasn’t interested in max anymore, rafe couldn’t believe how relieved he was. he may have lost the game, but he won the girl.

rafe typically lays into his teammates after a bad loss. he’s a harsh captain but the guys respect him for it. but that night, he’s uncharacteristically quiet in the locker room. he’d never admit it to anyone, but knowing he’ll see her after this makes his anger lose its power.

she’s surprised that the restaurant he picked is as elegant as it is. she knows he came from money, but this place is nice. as they settle across from each other in a booth, she’s glad she dressed up.

“i didn’t say this,” she says, looking down at her menu, “but you’re right. the refs missed a lot of travelling on our side.”

“what?” rafe says, amused. “whatever happened to loyalty?”

“i told you i didn’t say anything,” she reiterates.

he taps his knuckles on the tabletop lightly, studying her.

“you don’t have to bullshit me,” he tells her.

“rafe,” she says seriously. “when do we ever bullshit each other?”

he meets her gaze, taking in how pretty she looks tonight. they’re just friends but on the outside, this looks like a date. he doesn’t mind.

“and you need to chill with the pushing,” she tells him. “you almost got fouled out.”

“did i?” he says with a laugh. he knows he did. he finds quite a lot of sick satisfaction in shoving his opponents.

“shut up,” she chuckles. “you won’t be laughing when you get benched.”

“don’t want that,” rafe mumbles. “who will you stare at then?”

“you stare at me,” she replies. “you said it yourself the first night we hooked up.”

“why are you thinking about hooking up right now?” he says, looking around the room. “this is a classy place.”

“you’re annoying as hell,” she laughs. “and for that, i’m ordering the most expensive thing. unless you’re not paying?”

“i’m paying,” he confirms. he doesn’t even want to joke about that. “and i’m coming over after.”

“depends on how this date goes,” she quips, looking back down at the menu.

rafe loves how laidback she is. how she can call it a date, but not expect him to be her boyfriend. it’s so easy with her. no expectations. just fun.

he never felt this good this fast after a loss. he doesn’t ever feel this relaxed with anyone. she may just be his best friend at this point.

she looks up, noticing his eyes on her.

“staring again?” she teases.

just a few seconds ago, she asked when they bullshit each other. they never do. he’d like to stick to that.

“yeah. you look good,” he tells her.

her skin flushes hot. she eyes him, the way the dim lighting washes over the planes of his face, the way he put an effort in tonight, dressing in a button-down instead of the usual t-shirt and sweats he wears whenever they meet for a booty call.

“at the risk of stroking your ego, so do you,” she replies.

“what else d’you wanna stroke?”

“jesus christ,” she laughs, nudging his knee under the table. he smirks.

whatever tense feelings were left over from tonight’s loss are gone now. he’s good. happy, even.

[papercorgiworld]

I pretty please request a little fic abt Enzo being jealous, you write him so well 🙁

“I’m your brother’s best friend, I'm allowed to be jealous.”

A jealous Enzo Berkshire x Nott!reader imagine 

Cedric asking you out has innocent Enzo freaking out.

Warning: a little bit of smut, little bit

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Blaise asks as he looks at Theodore who stares at you and Enzo entering the great hall laughing. “What?” Theo asks lazily. “That Enzo’s drooling over your sister?” Theodore snorts. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Rather Enzo than Matt.” Mattheo’s brows furrow as his eyes roll to Theo, raising his hands offended with his mouth still stuffed with food. “What’s wrong with me?” Mattheo says after quickly swallowing his food, but is quick to add: “On second thought, don’t answer that question.” Blaise chuckles but returns his focus on Theodore, asking silently to answer his earlier question seriously. “Enzo’s a good guy.” Theo explains. “I kinda hope they’ll end up together. He’ll be good to her and she’ll be good for him. Enzo doesn’t get into fights and he’s not a possessive psycho. He’ll treat her right.” Mattheo’s eyes knit together again. “Why do I feel so attacked?” Theodore ignores him and continues with a hushed voice since Enzo and you are approaching. “I kinda hope he’ll finally make a move.” Blaise raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Don’t hold your breath mate.” Enzo plops down next to Blaise. “Hold your breath for what?” Theodore smirks. “For Dumbledore to give slytherin points for something.” A soft laugh leaves your lips. “Never happening.” Enzo’s eyes focus on your smile as you fill your plate. That smile. 

Enzo was madly in love with you, but you were Theo’s little baby sister so he assumed you were off limits for him. However, Cedric Digory wasn’t friends with Theodore so there was no reason for him to stay away from you. You and Cedric had been good friends for years, much to Enzo’s dismay and every year you got prettier and every year Cedric showed more interest in you and every year Enzo ended up hating Cedric more. 

***

“Oh all bowtruckles in a tree! He asked you out!” Luna's eyes go wide, not believing what she had just heard. You nod and smile, leaving the classroom. “Yes, I know, crazy, right?” But your joy instantly disappears when you see Enzo approaching, his soft demeanour changing with every step he takes. Enzo was the best, but every year you noticed how he got more and more annoyed with guys showing interest in you. He also had made it very clear that nothing would ever happen between you two because bro code and stuff. Honestly, the most ridiculous thing ever, especially since your brother had the hottest friends ever. Right now, you were seriously getting annoyed with Enzo, what did he expect of you, to stay single forever? Not happening. “Who asked who out?” Enzo forces a smile as his eyes move between you and Luna. You sigh. “Cedric asked me out.” You say, bracing yourself for whatever irrational argument Enzo was gonna throw at you. “Ah, yes, that ‘good’ friend of yours that I’ve been warning you about since forever. I told you that guy is only after one thing-” You make eye contact with Luna and raise your eyebrows, before interrupting Enzo. Leaning a bit his way you whisper: “Well, I hope so, because honestly Enz, I’m only after one thing as well.” Your voice sounds bittersweet to Enzo and he watches you and Luna walk away giggling. He clenches his jaw as he considers his options. Talk reason into you, impossible. Punch reason into Cedric, not my style. Or be a tattletale and spill the news to your brother...

***

“She’s going on a date with Digory!” Enzo yells as soon as he enters the slytherin common room and spots Theodore. Theo looks up to see a fuming Enzo approach. “You should do something.” Enzo says, calming down a bit, but also annoyed by the lack of response from Theo. “Like what?” Theodore asks eyebrows knitting together as he folds the newspaper he was reading before Enzo stormed in. “Tell her not to go. The guy’s bad news.” Theodore lazily stares at Enzo. “The guy’s a Hufflepuff, he’s barely news, let alone bad news. And tell her not to go… You obviously don’t know much about siblings, but let me tell you this: they don’t listen.” 

“What! You’re just gonna let her?” Theodore was getting a little frustrated with Enzo’s tone and Mattheo could barely keep himself from laughing at seeing Enzo so upset. “Yeah, as long as she doesn’t date Mattheo I’m good with it.” Theo says with a bit of a sterner voice and Mattheo frowns feeling offended a second time today, but Enzo’s clearly angry with Theo and shakes his head. “You rather have her date someone like Cedric than one of your friends?!” There’s silence but Enzo’s just so terrified of you going out and falling in love with someone while he’s left pining, that all his feelings boil over into anger. “What kind of a shit brother are you!”  At those words Theodore gets up in a second, almost pressing his head against Enzo’s to make sure Enzo gets the message. “I’m not a shit brother and I never said that I'd rather have her date Cedric than one of my friends, just not Mattheo but trust me Berkshire if you keep this crap up then you’ll be out of my sister’s life in no time.”

Enzo’s so angry that he can barely process what Theodore is saying, but he’s sane enough to walk away and not pick a fight with his friend and the brother of the girl’s crushing on. 

“Why always use me as the definition of trouble?” Mattheo complains, making Theodore roll his eyes. “Cause you are, I just hoped we had at least one sane friend in our group, but apparently Enzo’s just as dysfunctional as the rest of us.” Theodore sighs, unclenching his fists and sitting back down.

 ***

You leave your classroom to find a shaky Enzo pacing the hallway. When he spots you he immediately walks over to you and you can see the nervousness in his eyes. “What's wrong?” You ask as his hand firmly wraps around your arm. “We need to talk. Now.” His voice is urgent and his eyes avoid yours. “Enzo calm-” “No, it’s important.” Enzo snaps at you and pushes a door open, shoving you into a broom closet. “You can’t go out with him.” Enzo states as soon as he closes the door behind him. There’s a dim light that lights his pained face just enough for you to see. “Enzo-” Your voice is soothing, but Enzo’s too afraid of what you’ll say so he continues to rant. “It physically hurts when I think of you being with someone else, loving someone else. So just, I beg you, just don’t go out with him.” He sighs and moves a hand over his sweaty forehead. “I almost had a fight with your brother, because I’m freaking out and I’m freaking out because I know Cedric is a good guy and you like him and you’ll love him and forget about me and I- I-.”

You grab his face and place an urgent kiss on his lips, hoping you’ll keep Enzo from spiralling any further, but to your surprise he suddenly spirals into a whole different direction. Eagerly kissing back, one hand finding the small of your back as he takes a step towards you pushing you against the wall of the small closet you’re in. “I need you.” Enzo breathes lips only inches away from yours and his eyes piercing you, silently begging you to let him love you. “Let me have you.” His husky hungry voices make your knees go weak. “Have me, Enz.” You whisper, meeting his lips with an equal amount of hunger. What took you so long. He kisses you until you're out of breath then he leaves sloppy kisses on your jaw, before sucking at the flesh of your neck like you taste divine to him. His hands lustfully trace every inch of your body, squeezing the flesh of your thighs and ass. “I’ll make you love me.” Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the sound of his determined voice. Not that you needed him to do anything, you had already fallen for him before he had even seen you as someone more than just Theo’s sister. However, you were more than enjoying Enzo working for your love. 

***

You straighten your skirt and do your best to comb your hair with your fingers to look as decent as possible after what Enzo had just done to you in that tiny closet. “You look fine.” Enzo ensures smiling at you adoring your beauty as you stand there nervously watching if anyone has seen you two leave the broom closet. You force a weak smile and Enzo can’t help but get nervous as well. Though not about getting caught with you, but about whether or not he had convinced you to not go out with Cedric. Even having you moan and cry his name wasn’t enough to reassure him that you were his. He needed to know. “Are you still going out with him?” Enzo blurs and your eyes meet his. Is he for real? “Was this really all because Cedric asked me out?” Enzo shrugs, a bit embarrassed about how he had acted. A soft chuckle leaves your lips. “Really Lorenzo Berkshire you got jealous?” His hands sink into his pockets and he stares at the floor, thinking of a good response. “I’m your brother’s best friend, I’m allowed to be jealous.” 

You frown at his silly excuse. “Pretty sure Matt’s my brother's best friend and even if you were that’s not an excuse at all. Neither does it excuse what you just did to me in that closet.” Enzo takes a step closer to you and meets your eyes. “What do you want me to say?” Your eyes drown in his. “The truth Enz.”

He takes a deep breath, before confessing. “I’m so incredibly jealous, because I’m in love with you.” A happy smile tugs on your lips and Enzo’s delighted at how happy you are with his confession.

“You know… I never said yes to Cedric.” Enzo’s eyes widen and his mouth almost drops. “What?” A sweet laugh escapes you at the view of his shocked face. “I only ever said that he asked… I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t because I’m in love with you.” Within a split second Enzo’s lips crash onto yours. You had just made this man the happiest in all of Hogwarts.

Word count: 1771

Picture link: https://pin.it/2LVDPbwNS

[fgumi]

ꕥ obviously in love; — jungwon drabble, wc: 581, genre: romance, fluff

jungwon had always been good at keeping his emotions in check during lives, but lately, fans couldn’t help but notice a shift. it was subtle at first—small smiles while singing love songs, a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. eventually, the songs became a theme. every live, another love song, each one more heartfelt than the last.

his fans caught on quickly.

"is jungwon in love or something? why is he only singing love songs??" "no way... jungwon’s got a secret crush, i can feel it!" "i'm calling it. jungwon is whipped." "can someone confirm this? because i refuse to believe he’s not singing to someone specific."

unbeknownst to them, they were absolutely right. jungwon was in love—had been ever since he met you. it hadn’t been too long, but you made him feel light, like he could take on the world. every song he sang during those lives had been for you, but he wasn’t ready to admit it just yet. not until he found the perfect way.

that’s when the idea for his cover of "yk" by cean jr. came to life. he poured himself into the project, making sure every note, every movement carried the emotions he wanted you to feel.

when the cover was released, fans were now sure of it.

"i KNEW IT! this is definitely for someone." "the way he’s looking into the camera, like he’s singing to one person... yeah, we get it, jungwon!" "this man is so in love it hurts."

you had no idea what was happening until jay sent you a link to the video with a teasing message.

jay: "guess who you’ve changed forever?"

confused, you tapped on the link, and jungwon’s face filled your screen, the familiar warmth of his voice wrapping around you as he sang and danced. the lyrics hit you like a confession, each line making your heart race.

you quickly scrolled through the fan comments, unable to hide your grin.

"why do i feel like this is a love letter?" "jungwon’s not slick, something’s going on..." "we have eyes, jungwon... and ears." "this is basically a soft launch."

jay: "told you. he’s been acting different since you came along."

your heart fluttered as you typed out a message to jungwon.

you: "so... about that cover you just released?"

a few seconds later, your phone lit up again.

jungwon: "ah, i guess you saw it..."

you could almost picture him—shy, probably running his hand through his hair, unsure if he should fully admit it.

you: "you know, the lyrics are very... pointed. was it for anyone in particular?"

a longer pause. you waited. finally, his reply came in.

jungwon: "it was for you. i wanted to say it... in a way i knew you’d understand."

you felt your heart skip a beat, warmth spreading through you as you read his message. of course, he had to make it even sweeter.

you: "well, thank you. i wouldn’t mind a live version."

you chuckled, expecting a coy response, maybe something playful. but almost instantly, a new message flashed across your screen.

jungwon: "on my way."

your breath caught as you stared at your phone. before you could even process what he said, your heart raced, imagining him already grabbing his keys and heading straight to you.

you smiled, excitement bubbling up inside. if his cover was that amazing, you could only imagine what it would feel like hearing it live, just for you.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. a/n: i both love ai and hate it. right now, i love it for bringing me this cover of "yk". ✧ comments are appreciated! ✧ !nanamlist

[abbyromanoff]

Can I request a top! Jane Banner x fem!reader, with angst,smut and fluff at the end, where, reader is a new police and Jane is her superior & she take a like in reader months later but try to hide it, making reader feel bad then you can do the rest as you want

HATE ME? OR LOVE ME?

PAIRINGS: Jane Banner x reader

WORD COUNT: 3,220

WARNINGS: smut, love hate relationship, kinda enemies to lovers, angst, Jane hiding her feelings, cunnilingus, pet names, r getting stood up, making out, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, top!Jane, fluff, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“That’s the problem, Y/N, you can never do anything right!” The words rang through your mind on repeat. Your superior was the one who spit them, letting her built-up anger rise to the point of overfilling, and you were the one to suffer. You knew she despised you, and if it was up to her, you wouldn’t have been hired in the first place. You didn’t mind, you were used to being disliked throughout your life and came to an acceptance of the fact. And it wasn’t because she was your boss that it affected you so much, it’s because you liked her in ways you shouldn’t like your higher supervisor.

She would watch your every move, each step haunting her mind. You expected it was so she could find an excuse to report you and see you go, but it was really because she just wanted to admire you any chance she had. You wouldn’t understand, which is why she kept quiet. It pained her to see you frown, but she couldn’t let herself get as close as she wanted to. So, instead of remaining neutral, she decided to take her frustration and fill your heart with the hurtful words she’d mutter.

People suggested you report her, but you didn’t want to. You’d rather take the glares than see her separated from you, or even worse, be forced to leave for good. You instead took to ridding yourself of the sleep you needed and thriving on the suffering you enforced, all while she painted your mind. You couldn’t even focus on the comments, only focusing on the beauty that expressed them. That’s what you hated most, that you couldn’t hate her.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if your other person doesn’t arrive in the next five minutes, we’ll be forced to remove you. Unless you’d like to place your order, that is.” The waiter smiled apologetically, and you guessed he had dealt with this before, a guest being stood up and holding hopes they’d arrive. You were ready to give up and leave with a small apology for wasting their time, that was until you noticed a woman stepping forward.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jane looked in your direction, her eyes widening at your low-cut dress. You looked so beautiful, just like you always did.

“Y/N, nice to see you here.” You rolled your eyes with a groan, handing the menu to the waiter before standing. She furrowed her brows slightly, nodding the man off as you tried to walk past her, only for her arm to grasp your shoulder in an attempt for you to stay.

“Woah, relax now,” She started. “Where do you think you’re going?” You took a deep breath before turning, eyeing the woman with a clenched jaw.

“Home. Why, you going to follow me there too?” She chuckled, releasing her grip when she realized she didn’t have to force you to stay.

“I just might.” There was a short beat of silence before you blew a breath, getting ready to leave before she repeated her actions.

“Alright, what do you want? I’m off work hours, you can’t keep me.”

“Gosh, don’t be such a fucking bore. You got stood up, so I was trying to do the right thing and ask you if you’d like to join me instead.” You didn’t believe her, there was no chance she had good intentions when it came to you. She hated you, why would she ever want to change that?

“What, so you can make up a lie that you need to pee so I’ll end up being stuck paying the bill?” She remained relaxed, refusing to feed into your annoyance and letting you get a reaction. She got hers already, now you were just dying to get some sort of revenge.

“Look, I know we don’t get along all the time-“

“We never do. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick, I’d actually be willing to strike up a conversation with you.” You stated calmly, and she tightened her grip at your interruption. No one interrupts her, especially when you’re beneath her. But, she let it go past her, maintaining a tense smile as she pointed to her seat. There were only two chairs, either she was on a date or was eating alone. And with her lack of empathy, you guessed it was the latter.

“Well, maybe this is me trying to redeem myself. C’mon, you know we both have nothing better to do. I’m waiting for my mother to arrive, and you’re going home alone.”

“How do you know I’m going home alone? Maybe I’m going home to my wife and kids, maybe I’m going home to my family, maybe I’m going home to my cat-“

“Alright, I get it. If you really have places to go then you wouldn’t have been waiting for your date to show up for half an hour. But, if you really don’t want to, then you can leave.” You debated between your options, dinner with a woman who hated you, or going home to imagine being with the same woman. She’d hold you tight on the couch, kiss your forehead while your legs laid across hers. Her soft giggles showing her whitened pearls. Then she’d kiss you goodnight as she tucked you into bed, joining you soon after and returning her arms to their righteous spot around you.

You blinked twice, trying to register that you were in fact forced to live in the present time when all you wanted was to experience the daydreams you escaped through.

“Fine, I’ll stay. But don’t think I wanted this.” She smirked, letting you sit before pushing your chair in. You saw your previous table being occupied by a happy couple and smiled sadly, wishing you were taking their current places. You didn’t care for the view the seat had, but the one they each held was better than anything.

“Can we get the Le Medoc De Cos wine for the table, please?” You failed to understand how she didn’t miss a single beat, she must be a regular.

“Of course, ma’am, is there anything else I can start the two of you with?” He turned his gaze to you respectfully, and you grinned warmly.

“Uh, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.” He nodded and returned to the back where you assumed he was preparing the carefulness of the wine.

“You don’t order water at a restaurant like this, dumbass.” She scowled while her eyes remained on the menu, occasionally letting her eyebrows lift in a small excitement as she read the ingredients.

“Well, I think we both know I don’t have the funds for the wine you got.” It was true, you were only just starting a few months ago and were still considered young by most, it was nearly impossible for you to make the same as her.

“You’re not paying the bill, don’t worry about prices.” Your eyes widened as you looked at her dumbfounded. She lowered the paper and returned your gaze, making you evert your own slightly.

“We’re cutting this in half, I’m not letting you pay the bill and then use it against me for the rest of my life.”

“Oh my fucking God, will you relax with the assumptions? I’m not that big of a bitch, no matter how much you think I am.”

“I would calm yourself on the language, young lady.” Jane turned to see where the voice came from, only to sigh as her Mother came into view. She gave a tight-lipped smile and stood, giving the older woman a small hug and resting her hands on her arms.

“It’s great to see you, Mom.” She brushed her off, pulling out her chair as your boss was left stranded. She gulped, glancing towards you as you gave a small greeting to the guest. She took your hand with a small shake, something Jane rarely saw.

“Sorry for the intrusion, I’m your daughter's coworker and we happened to be dining in at the same place tonight.” She looked to her child for more description, and you feared you spoke wrong.

“Y/N here got stood up tonight and I thought I’d do the right thing and invite her to eat with us, I hope you don’t mind.” The reminder brought a roll to your eyes before you disguised it with a clearing of your throat, catching the attention of both.

“Oh, not at all! It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” The entire dinner went on with minimal chatting, you started to assume you were intruding on their special night. You grabbed your phone, excusing yourself to the bathroom with shaky hands. You refused to lift your gaze for the entire walk until you reached the door. When inside, you placed your hands on the marble countertop and sighed, letting the tension from the week release. Suddenly, you heard the door open with a small squeak and turned, only to see Jane looking back at you.

“Please don’t leave.” Confusion wrote itself across your face before you chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“And why is that?” She licked her lips and bit them softly, knotting her arms together as they laid across her chest.

“I can’t stand that woman and I definitely don’t want to deal with her alone.” She admitted, but you didn’t understand her hatred for her mother. You picked up on the small comments throughout the dinner, but you guessed it was playful nature when she’d give a small laugh in response, only now did you realize they were most likely fake.

“And…I guess I enjoy having you there to, you know, ease the awkwardness.” You were planning on cutting the meal short for yourself, but you understood her request. Even if she was technically using you, you didn’t want her to suffer through something like this, you still cared for her.

“Fine, I’ll stay.” She seemed relieved by your response and rushed forward to greet you in a grateful hug, only to come to her senses moments later.

“Oh, right, uhm- sorry.” She gave you one last smile of appreciation before exiting, returning to her awaiting mother.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I was just checking in on them.” She took a bite of the food, instantly regretting the action as the heat filled her senses.

“You know, you two make a really cute couple.” Not only was it hot, but now Jane was nearly choking on the steak. She pressed her fist against her chest a few times before clearing her throat.

“Uh, we’re- we’re not dating, Mom.”

“Look, I know you don’t believe in love, and trust me, after your father, I thought I never would either. But, love comes random, you can’t choose who you fall for. Besides, I may be old but that doesn’t mean I can’t spot the sexual tension between you two.” The sudden outburst sent heat waves to your boss's cheeks.

“Mom! There is no sexual tension between us! They hate me, if anything, I’m a complete dickbag to them.”

“Because you don’t want to accept that your dream of being alone forever is fading into something new. So, please, do me a favor and stop being a baby.” She saw you stalking back out of the corner of her eye and grinned as she stood. Jane was still stuck in thought, her forehead creased together as she, once again, started to bite her lip.

“Well, I believe I should be leaving now. It was so lovely to meet you, dear, I know me and my daughter loved your company.”

“Awh, you’re leaving already?” You brought her in for a short hug while she nodded, turning to her daughter to say a short goodbye. You wondered why she didn’t do the same with her as she did with you, but you brushed it off.

“Alright, I’ll ask the waiter for a box, are you saving your food?” Her Mother was now out of the building and you could get rid of your facade. She shook her head as she came back to her senses, your voice filling her ears as they dinged in excitement.

“Why not get a dessert? I mean, we’re already here, no point in leaving yet.” You eyed her with suspicion and she only pestered on.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you? Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” Her mother's words rang in her head once again as she got a true, genuine look at you. She always thought you were a heaven-sent piece of artwork, but now you looked ever more angelic. She didn’t know how you did, but you did.

“I just want to get dessert, is that so bad?” You huffed out a breath and examined the menu, your mouth watering at the descriptions. When the waiter came over, he kindly took your requests along with the papers. There was a silence that roamed over the both of you, Jane found it comforting. She knew you probably didn’t feel the same, but being able to have a moment with her thoughts that filled of you was always her peace.

“Dove chocolate cheesecake for you, ma’am,” She smiled in appreciation and took the dish before he turned to you. “And the chef’s special Tiramisu for you, Miss.” You repeated Jane’s movements, leading him to stand over the table with his hands together in front of him.

“Would you or your wife like anything else before I hand over the bill?” You blanked for a moment, chuckling awkwardly to yourself as you glanced up at him.

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Yes, actually. Would we be able to have a refill of their water, please?” You turned to look at her now, tilting your head to the side as she acted oblivious. He nodded and returned shortly with your new glass and the bill. You examined the total with widened eyes.

“The lady with you paid for half already.” He stated before leaving the two of you.

“Why didn’t you correct him?”

“For what?”

“Don’t play dumb, for saying you’re my wife.” She shrugged with a mouthful of her food, leading you to eventually give up and bask in the flavors the dish greeted you with.

The two of you were walking out of the restaurant, Jane holding the door open for you and leading you to your car. She hoped you parked as far as possible, just so she could get an extra few minutes with you. Her hand longed to interlace with yours, but she held back in fear.

“I hope you enjoyed tonight.” She spoke when you stopped in front of the vehicle she recognized as yours. You nodded with a thin line on your mouth before she said her goodbyes. She turned around with a sigh before stopping herself when she heard your voice.

“Yeah?” She saw you stalking forward, your head down until your body was mere inches from hers.

“I actually did enjoy tonight, thank you for inviting me.” She smiled gently when you lifted your head to glance at her, her impulses failing her as she placed her hands on your hips and drew you in. Her lips touched yours in a soft, searing manner as you sunk into it.

“W-what?” She gulped fearfully, pulling away as your hooded eyes searched hers.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” Her words were cut short as you pulled her back in, groaning as her body molded against yours. She placed her hands on your bottom, smiling gracefully as her tongue was granted entrance. She pushed you against the hood of the car, feeling your arms wrap around her neck while your thighs parted enough for her to place her knee between them. You instinctively grinded against the soft skin that greeted you, resulting in a muffled moan to escape.

“Wait-” She furrowed her eyebrows as she rested her forehead against yours, instantly following your request.

“I don’t want to do this here. Will you come home with me?”

Her slender fingers drew in and out of you in a hurry, her hot breath fanning across your face as you mumbled out pleas. She found her gaze falling to the connection between you two, shuddering as your tight hole accepted a third digit. Your legs wrapped around her form, your chest heaving with every inhale. Your nipples hardened from the gush of wind before a gasp left you, Jane’s wet mouth finding it as her free hand led yours to the neglected breast. You toyed with the hard bud, fluttering your eyes shut as you bit your lip.

“No, let me hear you, baby.” She dreamed of hearing everything you released, she wasn’t going to let that be stripped away from her.

“Jane-” Her name wasn’t her favorite word, but hearing your soft whine made it a blessing to her eardrums. Her clit throbbed in delight, begging to meet yours.

“Yeah?” Her jaw was now resting on your shoulder, her lips right next to your ear as she left pecks down your neck. She hoped they’d leave a mark, just so everyone would know you belonged to her now. But, in reality, you always have.

“Need to cum- fuck! I need it so bad.” Your fingertips came to scratch at her scalp softly, your legs starting to shake the closer you got. Your coil tightened the more you held back, yet it begged to let go.

“I need you, Jane.” The stumbled sentence brought a stall to her movements. She only continued her thrusts when a whine bounced off the walls, the creator being the person beneath her.

“I know, I need you just as bad, darlin’.” She felt liquid spray against her crotch as you cried out, clawing at any part of skin you could grapple onto.

“Oh, God, ‘feels ‘o good!” Your babbles brought a dark chuckle to the woman. She thrived on the fact that she was the reason you were like this. You were no longer crying from her harsh words, you were crying from how good she made you feel.

“No, no, we’re not done just yet,” She informed when noticing you tried squeezing your legs shut.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love, I find it so fucking hot that you squirted for me, makes me so, so wet.” Your cheeks reddened, your eyes unable to meet hers when her finger came in contact with your chin. You hadn’t noticed her pulling out of you, the bliss of the moment being too heavy for your mind to keep track of your surroundings.

“Don’t you taste fucking heavenly?” She forced you to suck the sweet nectar coating her digits, chuckling as you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. You moaned around them, suckling every last drop.

“Spread ‘em, angel,” You whimpered, shaking your head in disagreement. “I said, spread ‘em, you can take another, you will.” You obeyed slowly, feeling her fingers instantly spreading your folds as her tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud.

“More, baby, I want you to struggle.” Her lips instantly wrapped around your clit, the sounds of your juices being evident as she sucked harshly.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

[starsxblazing]

Die Of A Broken Heart

Ask and you shall receive. Here is some pure heartbreaking angst to feed us masochists.

Summary: Azriel goes on a mission that should have been simple only for it to end in one of the worst ways possible.

Azriel x Reader

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? You just got back last night and you’re exhausted.”

You watched your husband as he continued to get ready for his mission. It wasn’t really a mission at all unless one thought of the Hewn City that way. There were many that would call it such but to each their own. Azriel stopped his task of lacing his buckles together to give you a smile but when that didn’t seem to satisfy you, he pulled you into his arms in a tight embrace. 

“As soon as Cassian and I return, you will have me all to yourself,” he assured gently, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Try not to worry so much, love.”

You both admired and hated his work ethic. He was so loving, loyal, and devoted that he spread himself so thin but he was slowly making progress. Very, very slow progress but progress, nonetheless. The two of you had only been married for a few decades and it was as blissful as it could possibly be.

There had been an internal war within you when he had first started courting you. It was no secret that he wanted a mate, that all of the males wanted a mate. You had been hesitant in giving your heart to him because you knew that he had someone wonderful out there that the Mother had made just for him. 

What you hadn’t expected was a one sided mating bond. You had known since the night of your wedding but hadn’t been able to bring yourself to tell him. Azriel was always so loving and devoted to you that you didn’t have to question him. He assured you more times than you could count that even if his mate did miraculously appear, that he would still choose you. Since you knew that he was your mate, all of those worries had left your mind.

“But you still have to train your new spy for Spring Court,” you huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from him as he continued preparing.

“I have already told Rhys that it will have to wait.” He shot you a playful grin. “You are my priority. The female will still be there in another two weeks.”

“You, the amazing spymaster, are going to take an entire two weeks off?” you asked skeptically. “You are going to go insane with that much time off of work.”

“Actually,” he began, his voice dropping into that delicious seductiveness while he pushed you back into the wall. “I had every intention of keeping myself occupied in much more pleasurable ways.”

The hard length of him pressed into you, earning him a playful giggle. He simply pulled you into a deep kiss that left you both breathless only to do it again before he finally left with one last ‘I love you.’ You always hated to watch him go but knowing that he would be back later that night made it better. It also helped that you had a day planned with Nesta at the bookstore. 

“Did Cassian let anything slip about what they’re supposed to be doing?” you asked the female as you walked down the street.

“He was able to withstand my questioning, surprisingly,” Nesta huffed. “I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“Probably not,” you agreed.

You simply followed your friend throughout the stores, grabbing a few items for yourself before making your way to a nearby cafe. Nesta was relentless in getting you back into training so to appease her, you agreed. It was mostly because you missed the three females that you had made friends with but also because it would keep your mind busy once Azriel left again to train his new spy.

It was hours past time when your husband had promised that he would be home and it had you pacing a hole in the floor of your sitting room. This was the absolute worst part of being committed to someone with such an important job. Each time he was away from you, you prayed for his safety. That was exactly why you fell into a panicked frenzy when Rhys entered your mind to let you know that you were needed at Madja’s.

“What happened?” you demanded breathlessly, bursting into one of the healing rooms only to see a grumbling Azriel sitting up in the bed and holding his head.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Cassian waved it off dismissively despite the serious worry in his eyes. “He just took a hit to the head.”

“The culprit will have a fitting punishment,” Rhys assured when you went to open your mouth. “Take him home and watch over him.”

And so you did. It didn’t help that your husband was grumpier than usual, fussing and ensuring you that he could take care of himself. You weren’t convinced due to his slight stumble and how he continued to hold his bandage wrapped head. He all but fell face first into the bed and there was no way that you could leave him alone.

You awoke the next morning only to find Azriel’s side of the bed cold. It caused a deep frown to form on your face because he should be there. He was injured on top of promising to stay home. The very least that you had expected was for him to still be cuddled up to you since the sun could barely be seen in the sky. Even after searching the entire house, he was nowhere to be seen and not even his scent lingered in the air. 

In a sigh of defeat, you made your way to the House of Wind in hopes to find some answers. It was also empty up until you made it up to the training ring. Cassian, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were already there and beginning their warmups for the session.

“Finally come back to join us?” Cassian asked in a teasing voice but his eyes were wary.

“I was actually hoping to find my husband.” You almost tripped over the last word, almost revealing the secret that nobody else knew. “He promised that he would be home for the next two weeks.”

“He said something came up and training that new female was extremely important.” 

You eyed Cassian skeptically, noting that the general appeared uneasy with the topic of conversation. Something wasn’t right and your hand instinctively rubbed against your heart as if the bond was trying to tell you something. It was always there, always lingering and glowing brightly within you but it was dim today. Nesta, who seemed extremely in tune with you, pulled you into the ring with them, insisting that training would help but that dim light wouldn’t change your worry. There was something wrong if the strange new tug was any indication of it.

With nothing better to do, you relented and after warmups, you had a sword in hand. All three females had been training hard and it was a task to keep up with the high spirited Gwyn. You had always loved the priestess and the upbeat, determined energy that always buzzed around her.

You felt it just as soon as you blocked Gwyn’s attack. There was pain that tugged at your heart that caused you to stumble, earning a nice cut on your arm as you hit your knees. You were certain that a scream of pain, one that didn’t come from the new physical injury, left you but you were unaware of anything but the pain in your chest. It was sharp, as if a thousand daggers were piercing you all at once. 

A blinding heat then enveloped that same pain that had your head swimming. The bond that was there slowly dimmed further and you could almost see it. You could almost see the cord rip and shred, the feeling going straight into your chest. The burning paired with the sharpness continued until you could feel it through every fibre of your being where it settled into your very soul. It raged with an intensity that you knew had never been experienced by the world before.

Your heart stopped just as the last pieces of the bond shredded and broke before the blissful darkness took you.

Even in unconsciousness the pain didn’t stop. It felt like being tied to a spit and being turned over an open, blazing fire. The extreme heat didn’t stop and even after your mind began to clear, you were unable to open your eyes. It felt like you were dying from the inside out but muffled voices hit your ears, thankfully giving you something else to focus on.

“So you are telling me that your new spy is your mate?”

Rhys. That voice that was unmistakable and laced with frustration.

“It just happened, Rhys.”

Your husband. The one that was your mate that somehow had another mate. You searched inside of you and all that was left of the one sided bond were shredding sharp threads blowing in an openness of an unfamiliar void. Your mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening. You couldn’t understand.

“What do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Those three whispered words felt like another knife to the heart, continuing to slice into your already shredded soul.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You have a wife that loves you! A wife that you have been happily in love with for decades!”

The quiet words of the High Lord were nearly a growl, obviously angry with his spymaster.

“She’s my mate, Rhys!” 

Your husband was attempting to defend himself as if the mating bond had finally taken over him completely.

“You just met this female. She is supposed to be your apprentice. Your student. Nothing more.”

Azriel truly had left you, while he was injured, only to find his mate. You wanted to cry but the pain, the heat, kept you from doing anything. 

“Well that’s not what happened.” 

“What is more, your wife fell in training and has been unconscious for days while in a pain that none of us can figure out while you have refused to come back because you have been with your mate!”

It was all that you needed to hear. Your worst fears that had been present before the bond had happened. He had been spending time with his mate all while you had been unconscious and in immense pain and hadn’t bothered to answer his High Lord’s attempts to reach him. You must have finally been able to move because you heard quick footsteps just before a familiar set of hands were wrapped around yours.

“Y/n.” Azriel’s pleading voice barely registered in your mind. “Please look at me.”

It felt wrong to do so but you did. You loved him with all that you were and it was now your downfall. There was such worry on his face and his eyes went wide at whatever he found or didn’t find on your face. Even through the blazing haze, you barely registered the deep concern and made you wondered why he cared all of a sudden.

“Are you alright?” It was Rhysand’s voice this time as he pushed the shadowsinger away from you. “How can I help?”

“I’ll be fine,” you rasped, your throat raw as if you had been screaming.

“You have been screaming,” Rhys confirmed in a gentle but quiet voice. “Let me help you.”

A growl came from behind you but you focused on those violet eyes that made you feel just the tiniest bit better.

“I just need my bed and some time.”

He nodded, seemingly determined to give you whatever you wanted.

It took two weeks for you to pull yourself together enough to present yourself somewhat normally. Azriel had stayed with you for a week before leaving for his next mission, leaving you at the House with Nesta and Cassian. You knew that it wasn’t a mission. They didn’t know that you had overheard the conversation and knew that your husband had a mate that wasn’t you. 

By the time that the third week had passed, Azriel came into your room and watched you cautiously. It had taken you that long since the bond broke to act like your normal self but the pain, the burning of your soul never stopped. The broken threads cut into you over and over with no way to stop it. You were sure that you were going mad and you only allowed yourself to succumb to it whenever you knew that you would be alone for a while.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He sat on the edge of the bed but didn’t move closer. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” you asked as casually as you could even though a piece of you knew what was coming.

“I found my mate,” he whispered.

“Oh.”

This time it came out as a broken whisper, your fear only fueling the flame inside of you. Your heart picked up a rapid pace in your chest and you were sure that it was going to explode if it didn’t stop.

“I need-” He swallowed hard, his eyes lining with tears. “I need to at least get to know her.”

“You promised me, Azriel,” you croaked. “Please.”

“Just give me three weeks, y/n. Please.”

“Az…” Your voice trailed off and you realized that there was no point in arguing. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Despite his voice sounding thick and desperate, he simply brushed a light kiss against your lips. Your heart continued to race in panic and that pain raged blindingly until it was dark once again.

Azriel felt horrible for leaving you because he had promised you for decades that he would never leave you. He promised that he would love you and only you for the rest of eternity and even though that would always be true, he had to be sure. No sooner than he was in the sky after leaping off of the balcony on the House of Wind, a pair of hands were around him and he was suddenly in his dungeon.

“What the hell, Rhysand?” he growled, frustrated and annoyed and Cassian and the two fae in the chairs barely caught his eye.

“I came back here with Cassian to continue the work that you should have done after being attacked and learned a great deal of information.”

“Like what?” he snapped, his feet shifting while he debated on winnowing away.

“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” the High Lord growled. “As it turns out, that blast of power that sent you flying into the wall and causing your concussion cursed you.”

That caused him a pause and he eyed the two males that he had met with.

“Your ‘mating bond’ is fake.”

“But-”

“Tell him,” Rhysand ordered the males, refusing to let him speak.

“The female- your wife- is your mate,” one bit out. “You are holding us back in this horrid place so we cursed you to be chained to another female so that you would move courts.”

Because he would. If his mate didn’t want to live in Night Court, he would follow her. He looked between his brothers who didn’t appear to have the first bit of sympathy for him. Rhysand obviously knew that he had just left you for his mate and didn’t care about his wishes any longer.

In his desperation to get back to you, to right his wrong and beg for your forgiveness, he began his methods. It didn’t take much to get them to break and the curse cured. In an instant, he no longer felt that fake mating bond but when he looked to his High Lord, he was pale and frozen in place.

“Let’s go.”

Rhysand grabbed both him and Cassian, winnowing them back into the House. They sprinted towards your room only to find Madja hovering over you, her face pale and grave when she looked at them.

“What’s happening?” he asked in a panic, running to your side and pulling your freezing cold hand into his.

“She’s dying.” Madja’s voice was just as grave as her face. “Her body is shutting down.”

“Y/n!” Azriel yelled, shaking you as much as he dared to try to get you to open your eyes.

Madja’s hand was over your heart, looking as if she was focusing extra hard on it.

“Her heart is beating too fast,” the female murmured. “I have no way to slow it.”

Panic overtook him entirely and he continued to shake you in desperation. Your lips had turned blue and there was no color to your face even though your chest rose and fell in an unhealthy rhythm. Finally, finally, you opened your eyes. There was no life there and the quick flicker of recognition was all that it took. A dim light simmered within him, a light wrapped around a simple thread that should have been tied to you. 

He followed it to the end only to find an endless void. That quick flicker of remembering him only lasted a second before your eyes closed again. 

Just as you closed your eyes and your chest came to a stop, the thin thread within him shredded apart.

He thought he heard himself scream, a scream of desperation and pain, as he felt like he had been set on fire. It was a heat that far surpassed the flames that had ruined the hands that you loved so much and he didn’t know if he could handle it. His wife, his mate, his true mate was gone and left shattered threads blowing in a new void in its wake. He couldn’t breathe as it felt like his heart was being shredded into pieces and it picked up its pace in his chest. It felt like he was about to implode.

And as the darkness pulled him closer, he realized what had been your fate and what would now be his. He realized what it was like to die of a broken heart.

Tag List:

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain @nighttimemoonlover

[sansaorgana]

So I loved the way you wrote Buck with his scars! My heart was breaking! Could you maybe write one where he hates them and the reader comforts them and kisses his scars?

hi, sugar! 🥰 I am trying to write these requests chronologically but I couldn't wait to write this one, especially after seeing today's episode because domestic Buck is something I just NEED 😍 I added a whole plot around it, so you can also expect some of jealous Gale 👀 basically, his wife befriended some man when he was away and now he's jealous and insecure that he's not so handsome anymore lol like it's even possible

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

Buck stepped on the stool to take off the last of the Welcome Home signs as his wife stood below with her hand gently put on his thigh, making sure he wouldn’t fall. She didn’t want to miss any opportunity to touch him ever since he had come back.

Buck smiled to himself. It still felt odd to be back home and to be around his wife’s comforting presence, surrounded by her love and affection.

He furrowed his brows at the ceiling’s colour, though. It was oddly snow white and he remembered that it had been needing a renovation when they had moved in a few weeks before his departure to Europe.

“The ceiling’s been painted,” he pointed out as he handed his wife the paper sign and she took it from him to put it away.

“Yes. Ritchie’s done it,” she answered casually.

Buck froze for a second before stepping down from the stool and taking a better look at his wife. She didn’t look as if she was hiding some secret, though.

“Who is Ritchie?” He tried to remain cool. He had no right to be jealous. He didn’t want to be one of those husbands who didn’t want their wives to have any male friends.

Still, he was jealous.

“Oh, Ritchie, he’s just a… Just a friend, I mean…” (Y/N) chuckled and he could see her eyes sparkling. Buck’s jaw clenched at that reaction. “He’s a doctor, a local doctor, you know.”

“Do I know him?” Buck asked, trying to remember if he had known any Ritchies.

“No, no, honey, he was sent here when you had been… away,” she sighed. “I met him at the party…” (Y/N) got nervous explaining and Buck furrowed his brows at her. “I didn’t want to go, my friends forced me, I swear, Buck. It gave me no pleasure to dance and have fun knowing that you were… at some camp, I…” She shook her head and her eyes filled with tears.

“Shh,” Buck put his arms around her and brought her closer to place a kiss on the top of her head. “I hoped you would go out sometimes and have fun. I never wanted you to sit at home alone and cry all day and night. I hoped you’d know that, baby.”

“I know… Well, Ritchie was there. He wasn’t sent to Europe because we need doctors here, too,” (Y/N) sniffed her tears back and looked up at her husband. “He offered me help around the house. He painted the ceiling and took care of that spare room that might be a nursery one day… He fixed the drain and helped to mow the grass. You know, that sort of stuff,” (Y/N) explained. “I don’t know what I’d do without him, Buck. And he did that all for free!”

“For free, you say?” Buck raised an eyebrow. She looked so sweet and innocent, he didn’t want to accuse her of anything but he didn’t trust other men as much as he trusted his girl.

“Completely!” She assured him and nodded her head. “I wanted to pay him, I really did. But he told me that my husband was serving the country and it was his duty to help. He’s a sweetheart, really, Buck,” she tried to convince her husband. “In fact,” (Y/N) took a step back and smiled, “I think you should meet him. I think you’ll adore him! And you should thank him, too.”

“Thank him?” Buck asked, surprised. Perhaps she was right. He should. After all, that man had helped his wife enormously. But the ugly jealousy was too overwhelming.

“Of course!” (Y/N) gave him a scolding look. “Don’t you think he deserves to be thanked? Let me call him! I’ll invite him for dinner. He’s usually free on Sundays,” she ran to the telephone.

Buck only watched as she excitedly dialled the number she had memorised by heart. After a short while, someone on the other side of the line picked up and she smiled widely.

“Hey-ho, Ritchie, darling!” She started and Buck chewed on the inside of his cheek. He leaned on the wall, trying to look cool about it but he was exploding inside. “I was thinking that perhaps you’d join us for dinner tonight? I’d make that lasagna you like so much!” (Y/N) told her friend.

Buck tried not to look surprised that the mysterious Ritchie had his favourite dish already.

The truth was, Buck didn’t have any favourite dish (Y/N) made. And he hadn’t done much around this house before his departure either. They had gotten married two months before. He had been away for more than a year. That Ritchie guy had spent more time with his wife than he had. And it was killing him inside to realise that.

His wife had been everything that made his will to survive so strong. To see her again, to smell her, to touch her, to hear her laugh. She had saved him hundreds of times without even realising. And of course, as he had said to her, he hadn’t wanted her to spend all her days crying after him. But it still stinged his heart that she had some gentleman friend around. Cooking for him, renovating the house together, God-only-knows what else…

“Oh, no, you won’t be a bother!” (Y/N) shook her head to the receiver. “Buck wants to meet you and thank you for everything,” she turned around to smile at her husband. “Well, in two hours perhaps? Great!”

She put the receiver down and approached Buck to hug him and kiss his cheek.

“I can’t believe you’re here with me again… It feels so surreal,” she admitted.

He only hugged her closer, trying not to say anything. All he could feel was jealousy and he didn’t want to open his mouth and accidentally hurt her with his words.

Doctor Ritchie Nelson was older than Buck had expected – around 40. And much more handsome, too. Buck had naively hoped it would be some senior man living down the street or something like that. But no, he looked like a fucking actor. He had shiny black hair and bright blue eyes. He was a few inches taller and his clothes were very elegant.

Buck shook his hand to greet him when he opened the door.

“Major,” Ritchie saluted and then he gave Buck the most wonderful smile. Buck swallowed thickly.

Fuck me, he thought.

“Just call me Buck, doc,” he only said.

“And you call me Ritchie, son,” Ritchie walked inside as if the house had been his.

Buck closed the door behind him. He didn’t like being called son by that man even if he was older. But he didn’t want to start an argument and make his wife sad. She seemed to be very excited about the two of them finally meeting.

“(Y/N)’s in the kitchen now. She will serve the food in a moment. Follow me,” Buck headed to the dining room, painfully realising how stupid his words must have sounded. Of course Ritchie knew where to go.

But Ritchie didn’t say anything to that and took his place by the table.

“Hello, (Y/N)!” He raised his voice in the kitchen’s direction.

“Hello, sweetheart!” (Y/N) greeted him back and Buck took a seat across the table so he could face the man.

Before he could open his mouth to ask about something, his wife went inside with the plates. She put the food on the table and joined them, sitting right in between. 

“So, your wife told me that you went down over Bremen,” Ritchie started so naturally. He had to be born with this charm and charisma. “That was hell of a mission, I’ve heard on the radio.”

“Oh, Ritchie, let’s not talk about the war, can we?” (Y/N) batted her eyelashes at him. “Please,” she laid her eyes on her husband and Buck nodded at her.

He also didn’t want to talk about the war. Especially with a man who had not been there.

“Of course,” Ritchie cleared his throat.

“I’d rather listen to your stories,” Buck told him. “What did I miss ‘round town?”

He quickly regretted asking that question. (Y/N) and Ritchie were telling him all sorts of stories and gossip about local women, drunkards, policemen, priests, divorces and marriages, new children getting born... He wouldn’t mind that itself but the way they interacted with each other made his heart sink deep in his chest.

(Y/N) was mostly looking at Ritchie and her eyes were sparkling whenever he said something funny. She would often touch his wrist when she was laughing and they had a ton of inside jokes that Buck didn’t even want to ask about.

“Oh, you tell that story. You tell it the best!” She would say often and then she would interrupt Ritchie all the time to add her own details. But Ritchie didn’t seem to mind.

Buck couldn’t handle it anymore. He stood up suddenly and they looked up at him, questioningly.

“Are you alright, darling?” (Y/N) asked him, worryingly.

“Yes, I just… I want water…” Buck said and she nodded her head.

He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass before leaning on the counter and watching his wife still talking to Ritchie. They looked so natural together, so comfortable around each other.

In fact, she looked more relaxed around Ritchie than around Buck. The truth was that things had been awkward between them. When they were alone, they would sit in silence most of the time. And she didn’t look as relaxed as she did now.

Buck clenched his jaw and joined them by the table again, even though he felt as if he was a third wheel.

“Oh, Buck, baby, I forgot to tell you,” (Y/N) grabbed his arm and then she pointed at Ritchie. “Ritchie used to be a model.”

Fucking wonderful, Buck thought. But he pretended to be surprised as he laid his eyes at the other man.

“Oh, please,” Ritchie rolled his eyes and chuckled.

The worst part of Ritchie was that he was not mean. He wasn’t teasing Buck or trying to show off. He really was a nice man... who just happened to have a good relationship with Buck’s wife.

“I mean it! Back in the 30s. He was on the cover of the magazine!” (Y/N) finished the story. “I mean, look at him,” she laid her eyes on Ritchie. “40 this year and face so smooth,” her voice sounded almost dreamy.

Buck moved uncomfortably in his seat. His face was far from smooth now with a few scars scattered on his cheeks. They were not deep but he could see them every time he looked in the mirror. A painful reminder of what he had been through. He would never have a face like Ritchie fucking Nelson. He had already been uncomfortable with the scars but now he hated them.

He took a better look at his wife. God, she was so pretty. So full of life. She deserved someone like her. Not a man broken by the war like him.

“I actually could sign a contract and go to Hollywood,” Ritchie confessed, a little shyly.

“But he chose to refuse and become a doctor,” (Y/N) shook her head and looked at Buck. “Can you believe that? I’d choose Hollywood,” she joked and Ritchie laughed.

Buck forced a chuckle. He couldn’t focus on her words anymore anyway.

“It’s getting late,” Ritchie took a glance at his watch. “I’m opening my cabinet tomorrow in the early morning. I should be going now.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) nodded and stood up to walk him to the front door. Buck remained in the dining room and waited for her to be back.

It took her quite a long time to say goodbye to her friend. He almost stood up himself to check on them but that was when she finally joined him and sat back by that table.

An awkward silence occurred between them.

“Isn’t he lovely?” (Y/N) started as she played with the food on her plate.

“Yes,” Buck nodded. “Damn, I forgot to thank him.”

“It’s alright. He doesn’t really expect that. You can do that next time, too,” she took his hand in hers and caressed it gently.

He hated to see her more stiff and awkward around him than she had been around Ritchie.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” she sighed and stood up, taking the plates from the table.

Buck stood in front of the mirror in the morning and looked at his freshly shaven face. Last night he had a nightmare again and he didn’t get a lot of sleep. His eyes missed the spark he had had before his departure to Europe. They were tired now and sadder, no matter how much he tried to be the same man as before. There were a few new wrinkles on his forehead, too. And those awful scars on his cheeks. His face was definitely not smooth.

“Knock, knock, baby,” (Y/N) opened the door gently. “What is taking you so long? I thought you were shaving,” she smiled softly at him. “I started to worry.”

“I got distracted, sorry,” he reached out for the towel to wipe the remaining shaving cream off of his face but (Y/N) approached him to do it herself.

“Aw, look at you, my handsome husband,” she gave him a warm and loving smile.

He hated that little voice in his head telling him that she had said that out of pity.

“Not anymore,” Buck chuckled nervously and put an aftershave on.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) furrowed her brows as she stared at his reflection in the mirror.

He only shook his head, scared that he would start crying if he said something now.

“Gale?” She asked softly as she delicately put her hand on his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at my face now,” he turned around to face her as his voice trembled.

“I am looking, baby,” she bit on her lower lip and placed her hands on his cheeks to caress them gently with her thumbs. “Do you mean those scars, love?” She asked, nervously.

Buck only nodded as his eyes filled with tears.

“Can I be honest with you, my darling?” She asked and he nodded again. “Well, I didn’t want to mention them when you came back home. I didn’t know if I could, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or sad… But I wanted to tell you…” she hesitated for a moment and his heart skipped a beat.

He expected her to tell him now that they were indeed ugly or making him less attractive. Of course, she would later tell him she loves him despite them and all that jazz. What else would she say?

“I know that they’re on your face because you’ve been hurt and in pain, so I don’t feel good saying this but… Well, I think they make you look even more handsome,” she admitted and Buck’s eyes widened a little. “Am I a bad wife for thinking that?” She asked, nervously. “I’m sorry if I am. But you look so brave, my darling. And so handsome. They make me feel so proud to be your wife when I see them,” she leaned in to place small kisses up and down one of his cheeks and then the other.

“I thought you liked Ritchie’s soft face…” Buck muttered out.

“Wh-what?” (Y/N) took a step back to look deep into his eyes, her hands still caressing his cheeks. “Oh, you’re jealous?”

“Well, how can I not be?” Buck held her wrists gently and moved them out of his face to place soft kisses upon her knuckles. One at the time. “He spent more time with you than me. You’re so comfortable around him. I’m glad you had a friend when I was gone. But I can’t help not to be jealous,” he confessed. “He’s not as broken as me.”

“Gale,” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’re the only man for me. I’ve been waiting for you here, each day and night. And those silly scars you’re so bothered about? Goddamit, I was praying to all the gods in the world to bring you back to me, even without arms or legs, so what do they even matter? They’re nothing. I just wanted my husband back with me!” She began to tear up.

“I know,” Buck brought her closer to hug her. “I’m not accusing you of anything, I know.”

“Oh, you’d be an idiot if you accused me,” she chuckled through the tears.

“Why?” He asked and rubbed her back.

“Because Ritchie… He…” She tried to find the right words. “Well, he doesn’t like women, if you know what I mean.”

Oh.

What a burden had just left Buck’s heart. He chuckled out of relief.

“Yeah, I should have… I should have known. There was something about him,” he admitted.

“He’ll be flattered that you thought of him as competition. It means you find him attractive,” (Y/N) giggled and Buck rolled his eyes before hugging her even tighter. “I love you, Major Cleven,” she squeezed him tighter too. “All of you, all the scars and all the breaks you claim to have.”

Buck was left speechless for a moment. He just kept holding her and kissed her temple before finally speaking up.

“I love you, too, Mrs. Cleven.”

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