#in the belly of lent

[ohcaptains]

knuckle velvet

synopsis. he walks you home, then lets himself in.

pairing. logan howlett x f!reader. tags. [18+] dubious consent, vaginal penetration, female receiving oral sex, spitting. honey don't feed it, it'll come back type beat.

Some deep part of Canada, where everything was white. Snowstorms that swarmed through the sky, and the only warmth you could find came from the bottom of a bottle.

The wood floor of the sticky bar you worked in was soaked from frost covered boots – haphazardly scraped across the welcome mat, owners preoccupied with getting their first drink than keeping the place tidy.

You existed there, behind the bar that patrons lent against, like a metal cage with leering onlookers. They paid in drinks, but you took the money home as tips, your warmth stoked in a fireplace.

How you’d ended up there in that forgotten part of the world, you didn’t know.

Perhaps you’d followed a narrow path, one strung out with thorns and rubbish, but the money was okay.

When it got slow, and there wasn’t much else to do, your boss let you read a bit, too, while you sipped on your endless supply of Coca-Cola.

At the end of your shift, your teeth were fuzzy from all the sugar. 

An easy existence, but some nights, the patrons got too friendly.

They were fresh off their trucks, looking for some place warm to bury for the night, but you weren’t offering.

So, you’d peer at them, watch them make a fool of themselves as they spewed putrid words in your general direction – alcohol and lack of sleep causing the floor to sway from beneath their feet.

It was always the new boys who would try it.

Risk it all for a chance between your thighs, unaware of the hound sitting at the end of the bar, nursing a whiskey and a vendetta.

The first time he fought for you, the air had changed. Gone cloudy with the chance of a brawl – that sixth sense that all bartenders have switching on.

“Lady said no, ain’t she?” he bellowed from across the bar.

The voice thick with smoke and alcohol, you recognised him as the guy who’d been drinking whiskey all night, but he was as sober as a nun. No stumble to his step, or slur to his cadence, either.

He was built like an oak tree. You noticed when you served him. Slid him his drink and gazed at the sheer bulk of him. At the weathered, handsome age to his face, to the spray of grey in his brown hair.

His thick arms were snugly buried under a button up shirt, and you didn’t see, but rather imagined, the way his muscular legs were stuffed into jeans, and the way his size 12’s rested against the hardwood.

His eyes though, were hiding something. Milky brown concealing his curiosity – easily done with the hard panes of his face.

You imagined letting him take you home, and you thought about being friendly, before a whisper in the back of your cranium told you to back off.

Perhaps safer.

You didn’t know where this man had come from, let alone where he’d been. So, you continued to serve him drinks, and tried to ignore the quiet hum of his presence, until the hum turned to a crash.

The patron was scorned. He paused, and turned to the end of the bar, where the brown eyed stranger was waiting. “What’s it to you?” he slurred.

But the man with the whiskey wasn’t looking to him. He sipped his drink, and said, “she said no. You don’t remember your manners?”

The bar adorned an eerie quiet. Nerves sat low in your belly, heart picking up speed.   “This guy serious?” he asked you.

You went to say something, but he was already throwing words at the stranger.

“She yours or something?” “It matter?” “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” The stranger scoffed, and brought his drink to his lips, “whatever bub.”

“We got a problem?” the man uttered, stalking towards him, but his friend took him by the arm and whispered something in his ear, forcing him to deflate.

You wondered what he’d uttered. Whether there were rumours about the guy – a reputation you didn’t know about.

Brown eyes didn’t bat an eye when the man and his buddy slid out the door, cold filling the room before the door slammed shut.

The bar exhaled.

People went back to their business, and you thought about it, you really did. Thought about leaving him alone. Going back to your measly existence. Your home – the pit for all of your things.

But it didn’t win over in the end.

You topped up his drink. He took it, and glanced at you, brown eyes ringed with mystery.

“That happen often?” he uttered, voice a gruff grunt.

You put the bottle down, and looked away, thinking back to last week when you nearly fought a guy for staring for too long. You glanced back to him. “Sometimes.” “Your boss is an asshole for letting you work here alone.” “That so?” you laughed, shocked at his candour. He nodded and downed his drink, eyeing you from over the rim.

Finished, he put the glass down on the bar, and shrugged his jacket on. He got up to leave, and you felt a chasm begin to open up in your chest.

You went to say something. Anything, to make him stay. But he paused and looked over his shoulder.

His jaw was clenched when he tentatively offered, “be safe.”

When you locked up, he was waiting for you. 

It didn’t scare you. Really, it should, but when you left the bar and saw him standing there, toking on a cigar in the cold, all it did was make you pause. He stood there, gazing at you, eyes clouded by smoke. 

“You waiting for me?” you uttered, making it real, even if the light drift of snow was giving the world a dream like quality. 

He shrugged. “Just waiting.” 

You nodded, and put the bar keys in your bag, ignoring the chasm get wider. If he was going to rob the place, he’d have to get through layers of receipts and tissues to get in. But you knew the bar wasn’t what he was after. Something about his posture, the luring look in his brown eyes — curious, like he was trying to figure something out. 

You began to walk past him, but when he didn’t follow, you paused. You peered over your shoulder, and he was still looking at you. 

Taking you in. “Well,” you started, hitching your bag up your arm, “you gonna walk me home, or what?” 

He followed you in comfortable silence.

Just you, the night, and the crunch of dirt under his boots. His cigar smoke drifted by, and it wafted through your subconscious, followed by pine, and crisp scent of the snow.

He sounded like the noise of the woods — ever present in these parts. A comfort, if one had adapted to its unpredictability. When you got to your familiar walkway, you opened the gate, but he didn’t follow you through.

Instead, he stood by the entrance, watching you unlock your door like he’d just dropped you off from a date. it was when you were halfway through that he spoke up. “You work every night?”

“Yeah,” you started quickly, looking to him. “Apart from Wednesday and Sunday.” He considered you, then gave you a sharp nod, and turned to leave.

That’s how you ended up with a wolf at your door.

Every night, he was the last one left, then he silently walked you home.

Some nights, you’d find him leaning against the entrance, and he’d quietly peel away from the door and follow you. At first, he simply walked closely behind, a looming shadow, until he began walking beside you.

Then one night, you let him in.

Made him a cup of coffee to fight off all the liquor he consumed, and he sat at your kitchen table, and drank every drop.

Watched you in the low, fluorescent lighting, and you did the same. Curiously studied him. He looked different in your home. In your kitchen. Looked a little softer around the edges, even if he couldn’t relax completely.

It went like that for a while. It was on one of these nights that he gave you his name, followed by a shitty cup of coffee. Sometimes two. Maybe a biscuit, or a piece of cake. Leftovers turned into home cooked meals. Sat at the kitchen table and watched him eat. Roast beef. Mashed potatoes. Lasagna. Sipped at your cup of tea as he slopped up his pasta, using the back of his hand to wipe the sauce off his mouth.

You left him finishing off his plate to get ready for bed, and it was when you were sorting your hair out, that he came into your bedroom and began taking his boots off.

You stood at your mirror and watched him place them near your door.

Then he reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt.

One by one, you watched his thick fingers reach the bottom. He took it off, revealing a white tank off and broad chest, and hung the shirt up on your door frame.

Jeans next.

Popped the button and shucked them to his feet -- threw them with his boots and dragged himself towards your bed.  

You went to say something. Anything.

But he looked so exhausted as he crashed onto your frilly bed, that all you could manage was, “You lock the door?”

Logan nodded. His eyes were already closed, and he was hugging the pillow when he uttered, “you coming to bed, or what?”

You let him stay the night.

Maybe it was raining, maybe he was too tired – it didn’t matter. All that mattered, was that he was warm, and sometimes, when you woke and felt the terrifying ache of being alive, he’d be there to quiet the pain.

Hush you with the soft swell of his lips and wandering hands.

You’d come with a hushed whisper, hot and sticky over his calloused fingers -- drowsy from how high he took you. Then he’d kiss you, fix your clothes, and go back to sleep.

Always the middle of the night. When it was dark and quiet out, and it felt as if you were the last people alive.

His skilled hands bringing you to the brink, a soft kiss, then back to bed.

You would wait for it. Watch him nurse his whiskey at the end of the bar, the night dragging with every drink you poured. Then, he watched you lock up.

Waited at the door for you, so you could walk home together, wordlessly taking the familiar trail.

He’d eat, you’d watch, then leave for your room.

Once, you woke to his head between your thighs. The night was quiet, room dark – slither of moonlight from your window cutting a line through your bodies.

You were slick with sweat, and as you flexed your taunt muscles, they fizzled and singed. Hot heat pushed low in your belly, rooted between your thighs.

Logan hummed, and you reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, whimpering his name to grab his attention.

He had palm fulls of you. Fists of your thighs, soft of your belly, leaving marks with his desire – desperation. The first thing he did was apologise. Muttered a hoarse, m’sorry, into your soaking cunt, but continued tasting you.

You used his hair as leverage, and hitched your hips up an inch, causing his nose to bump into your sensitive clit, and you hissed, as if in pain, but the sound trailed off into something similar to his name, and Logan grunted, moving your hips further up so he could twist a thick finger inside.

You took all he gave.

Moaned into the pillow beside you as you rocked your hips against his face, soaking his nose and mouth. Said shit you didn’t mean, but meant all the same, and Logan got off on it.

This mysterious man who had taken over your life, grunted your name like it belonged to him. Made you come on his thick beard and puffy lips, then made you taste yourself as he kissed you.

You hugged his sweat slick frame to you, fingers scratching his scalp, mindlessly grinding against his clothed cock. You were content to just kiss him, until he dragged his fingers between your thighs again.

You startled, gasping into his hot mouth, but Logan hummed, near smiling against your lips.

“’think there’s another in there for me,” he drawled.

When he fucked you, there was so much of him that you went blind with it. Eyes half lidded, delirious as he pushed inside, making himself fit. Stuffing you full, then pulling out, just to feel it all over again.

Again and again. You moaned his name into his soaked, scarred chest. Felt yourself leave your body, so hot, so wet, that it was all sensation. Just the slap of his hips against yours, the feel of his hands on your tits, in your mouth, telling you to open wide.

He spat, and when he missed, he smeared the mess off of your chin and rubbed it into your cunt.

Made you come, then filled you with his own. Leant back, and watched it drip out of you. You were so consumed by him, that you didn’t have enough energy to feel self-conscious.

No, when he had his wild eyes on you, you reached between your thighs and stuffed it back inside.

The next evening, and he was back at the bar, waiting for you to bring him his whiskey. When you placed it in front of him, those wild eyes were on you again.

Waiting. Always waiting.

Waiting to play out your usual routine.

masterlist | ask | reblogs appreciated endlessly

[suskz]

JOCK!CHAN X NERD!FEM READER SMUT??🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

pairing: Jock!Chan x Nerd!Fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; breasts play ; clit play ; slight oral kink.

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: NO BC I actually love this idea sm 🙇🏻‍♀️ Hope you like it anon ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Come over after practice?"

You adjust your glasses on your nose after sending the text and get up to change into your pajamas.

You don't expect an immediate response, but you're too bored because you have nothing to do and you can't wait for him to text back.

You receive a reply only two hours later.

"Of course, baby, I'll take a quick shower and I'll be with you."

Only half an hour passes before he's standing in front of the door of your dorm room, with dark curly hair still wet and dressed in his usual black pants and t-shirt.

Before you know it, his soft lips are on yours and without breaking apart, you usher him into the room and he closes the door.

"Your hair is still wet." you point out as if he didn't already know.

"I wanted to be with you as soon as possible." You blush slightly at his words.

"How was practice?" you ask him.

"Changbin missed all his shots today." he chuckles.

"He's too short for basketball, I've always said so." you laugh with him.

"What were you doing in the meantime?"

"I was reading a book Seungmin lent me."

That's why shortly after you're sitting on your bed with your boyfriend's head in your lap while you read aloud word after word.

His eyes are closed as he listens to your soothing voice, but at some point you stop and he opens his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks you, and when you don't answer, he raises an eyebrow and gently lowers the book with one hand to see your slightly flushed face.

The story is getting a bit... hot, "Uh... I'm not sure if I should continue..." you admit, and he immediately understands what it's about. A smirk forms on his lips as he gets up.

"No, keep reading, I want to know how it continues." He has you sit in the middle of the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and keeping his eyes on the book, without reading, "Then?"

"Uh... he- he started kissing her neck," his soft lips immediately press against the skin of your nape, leaving slow, wet kisses, "As his hands roamed all over her body." And so does he, releasing the embrace and moving his hands over your body still covered by the light pajama shirt, running his fingers over your belly and higher, grazing the outline of your breasts.

"You're not wearing a bra?" He whispers against your neck, his breath lightly tickling you.

"I'm more comfy without."

He groans almost imperceptibly, feeling your hardening nipples through the fabric of the shirt.

"Keep reading." he orders, and you do as he says.

You read quickly in your mind, trying to get to the parts where it only describes his actions. "His- his fingers play with her nipples, squeezing them between his fingers and—" you pause as a yelp escapes your lips when you feel his fingers brush against your nipples and then squeeze them in between.

Before you realise it, his strong arms lift you from where you're sitting on the bed. One arm goes under your legs, while the other holds the upper part of your body, picking you up bridal style, and gently lays you with your head on the pillow.

Sometimes you still marvel at how truly strong he is.

He then positions himself between your legs. He lifts your shirt to uncover your breasts and plays with your nipples, pinching and licking them.

"Then?" His voice is low and sensual, causing a throbbing sensation in your lower parts, where his covered cock brushes against you through his pants.

"His- his hand travels down her body—" the movement of his hand sends shivers through your body. He swiftly removes your pajama shorts, and kisses various spots on your leg as he moves up to place his head at your level, locking eyes with you.

One of his hands takes the book from your hands while the other slips under your panties, feeling your wetness with his middle and ring fingers. A gasp escapes your lips before you can control it.

"You're so wet already.” he breathes on your lips, feeling all the slick that has come out of your hole. He gathers some of your juices and uses it to glide his fingers in slow circular motions on your clit, making you sigh. "This pretty pussy's begging for attention, mhh?”

He moans with you as his fingers slide into your hole. He moves them back and forth slowly, curling them upwards to brush against that sensitive spot inside you.

His breath is heavy as yours and his pants feel tight.

His thumb rests on your clit and moves as best he can to stimulate you more.

Your faces are so close. He looks into your eyes and can't resist the urge to kiss you. It's slow and sensual, your tongues meeting and your breaths mingling.

When you break apart, a trail of saliva connects your lips. Your boyfriend removes his fingers from inside you, making you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Your panties are soon on the floor next to your pants, and your shirt follows shortly after.

"You're so gorgeous." he compliments as he admires your exposed body beneath him.

It's not the first time he's looked at your naked body, but his gaze feels heavy on you.

He notices your embarrassment and leans in on you. "I can't wait to be inside you." he whispers in your ear.

"Then don't." you urge him.

And a few seconds later, his cock is inside your tight heat, making both of you moan in unison.

Soon he begins to move. You need more time to get used to the intrusion, but the desperation of both has taken over.

Despite it not being the first time, the stretch still hurts initially. But it only takes a few slow initial thrusts for you to get used to it.

His pace quickens and becomes more steady, and one of his hands has to cover your mouth to stifle your sounds.

Your moans come out muffled against his palm, and he closes his eyes, biting back a moan, "As much as I love hearing you, we don't want to get caught, now do we?" he whispers. You nod, and he removes his hand from your mouth.

You grit your teeth and throw your head back into the pillows —as much as you can without hurting yourself because of the ponytail— trying to be as quiet as possible, but it's difficult.

Your glasses are askew on your face, and just one wrong move would be enough to cause problems for them. That's why Chan carefully takes them off and places them on the nightstand next to the bed.

It's when his cock hits a certain sensitive spot inside you hard that a cry escapes your lips, and you're too taken by surprise to hold it back.

Two fingers are shoved into your mouth to try to stifle the sounds trying to come out, "You did that on purpose so I would put my fingers in your mouth, huh? You like being fucked like this, don't you?" he whispers in your ear, licking and sucking on the lobe.

Your tongue moves upward, wanting to speak, pressing against his fingers. At your movement, he throws his head back, letting out a pitiful moan; his hips falter for a second, and his cock twitches inside you.

You close your lips around his fingers and nod instead, unable to speak.

"You feel so damn good." His head rests in the crook of your neck. "Fuck." He breathes.

The sound of skins slapping together grows louder in the room. A drop of sweat falls from his forehead, and his hands grip the sheets tightly at the sides of your head.

"Baby, I'm close." He whines, warning you.

Your legs tremble, your limbs feel like jelly.

"Me too." You reply, "Chris, please."

He brings two of his fingers to your clit, moving them quickly, but the movements are not steady, distracted by his impending climax.

"Y/n, I'm going to cum—" he urgently moans, "You have to come now." It's an order, despite the slight desperation in his voice, like you could control your orgasm.

You place your fingers over his that are still on your clit and move them together.

Your breaths are heavy and loud. Anyone passing by your room would understand what you're doing, but in the heat of the moment you don't give it much weight. The only thing on your minds is reaching your highs.

And you do; you come first and he follows right after. His well-defined muscles, built from the gym he attends with his friends, twitch gorgeously as he cums into the condom.

It takes a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath. He pulls out of you and tosses the condom into the trash bin at the end of your bed.

He joins you again in bed and looks at you, perhaps a little embarrassed, "It won’t go down..." he admits, referring to his still somehow hard dick.

You prop your body up on your elbows. Your eyes shift to look at his half-erection and then back to his eyes, with a smirk.

"Round two?"

[dilfcho]

miscommunication

alien!choso x reader wc: 644 warnings: cho watches porn without realizing/knowing it's porn, masturbation, voyeurism?, MDNI! part one to when in need!

alien!choso who is so eager to please, sneaking into your room to watch the movies you have opened on your (technologically behind) laptop to learn how to communicate with you. what better way to learn than directly from your favorites!

alien!choso who discovers that humans have a really weird way of speaking. he watches the people on the screen, who are wearing a lot less clothing than you usually do, huff and whisper to each other as they lay oddly close on a bed. he thought you said that people on your planet wear garments to cover their body, so why is this movie saying otherwise? they’re making a sound he’s never heard before. it sounds strained and airy, but seems to be out of pleasure.

alien!choso who notices that his face is starting to feel a bit warm. was it this hot in the room when he came in? he pauses the movie and slips off the sweatshirt you gave him. he almost feels better. he would feel better if his pants didn’t feel so tight. he dips his hands below the waistbands of his sweats (also lent by you) to readjust. he shivers when his fingers wrap around himself, and his hand lingers in his pants a little longer than needed.

alien!choso who sucks in a quick breath, similar to the one of the man in the video. he reaches over to resume the video with his free hand and begins to mirror the movements of the womans hand over the mans body. slipping his waistband lower, his leaking tip slaps against his belly and it sends shivers down his spine. he glances over at the screen and attempts to mirror her actions.

alien!choso who traces the thick veins of his cock in the same way the woman traces her partners. he hisses and tightens his grip as he rubs his length, eyes screwed shut before he’s met with an image of you. his chest rises up and down as your name begins to quietly slip off his tongue. the image in his mind morphs into your hand below his waist instead of his, and a warm feeling builds in his lower belly.

alien!choso who is so caught up in his language lesson that he doesn’t hear your keys jingling at the door as you push it open and step inside your home. you slip your shoes off and look around to see that the alien you’d somehow found yourself responsible for was not on the couch or kitchen, where he’d been spending most of his time. “choso! did you see the dinner i made for you on the counter?” you called out, but received no reply.

alien!choso who was still not aware of your return, continued to whimper and whine your name into the emptiness of your bedroom as he brought himself closer. to what, he wasn’t sure, but he needed to keep going. he chased the feeling, leaning into your imaginary touch. the quiet whispering of your name became full moans, though they didn’t fall on deaf ears.

alien!choso whose hips chased his own fist, stomach clenching as his cum spurted onto his stomach and thighs, slowly dripping down onto the covers he laid on. he was still catching his breath before he realized his eyes were still closed. instead of being met with the empty room he was just in, he spotted your figure in the doorway. you stood with your mouth agape, and fingers bent like you were holding your bag, but it fell forgotten by your feet. when his eyes met yours, he mumbled your name desperately.

alien!choso who needed you to help him. to explain to him what he just did, and why he was hardening in his hand again.

-

mlist

[mochinomnoms]

I'm curious about the dreams Idia was having about the reader.

(reference to this)

nsfw under read-more, minors DNI!

It's quite silly, really. Idia was never one to yearn for the touch, closeness, the affections of a person. He was fine, being alone. It was better this way. He could cope with his games and shows, online groups and friends filling the void. Besides, why would he want to drag another person into the Shroud curse? It already took one person from him, Idia couldn't stand doing it to another as long as it was up to him. Plus, he wasn't exactly prime boyfriend, let alone husband material (perhaps he did that intentionally).

So, Idia wasn't all too worried when he first started becoming friends with you. You were kinda weird, but a friend to introverts like him! Somehow always a wallflower, but always involved in the chaos of overblots and school. But, you were conscientious of his need for space and privacy; Ortho must have said something to you about his eating habits, cause you started bringing food other than chips, soda, and ramen cups for him to eat, like actual meals. You also liked to entertain Ortho, who liked when you drew silly designs on his plating, which is always a plus in Idia's book. You were sweet, like his favorite ramune soda. Despite having abysmal skills in gaming (which he was all too happy to make fun of you for) he liked having you as his support, watching him on the sidelines and being a cute cheerleader. In exchange, Idia lent you an old gaming computer and bullied tutored you in a few of his favorite games so you could be his squishy healer in raids.

But, he was a bit worried when he started feeling something more than platonic things for you. Then, he was exceptionally concerned when, at the first day of spring, Idia started coughing hydrangeas, which he managed to secretly keep under wraps from Ortho for a few weeks. No, he was downright mortified when, during those few weeks, night after night, he started having dreams of you.

They started off innocent at first: you on his lap, head on his shoulder, as he played the latest RPG. You murmured words of encouragement, sleepily nuzzling your head into his. Another, he was in the board game club, where you cheered him on as he won a match against Azul in some luck-based game. Idia remembers giving Azul a smug smirk as you threw your arms around him and pressed kisses into his cheek. He even faintly remembers one where you simply sat with him in class, fingers lacing through his in comfort as he dealt with the anxiety of being out and about.

It wasn't until he was a week in when the dreams, infested with hydrangea bouquets always at the corner of his eye, that he knew he was utterly screwed beyond belief.

It started off sweet, at first. This time, you were with him at Styx, though you looked a few years older and were wearing a similar uniform to his mother. He was wearing the uniform as well, though it more closely resembled his father's. He was now Styx head, and you, his precious little wife. The domestic stuff was fine, it made his heart rate spike up so much that Ortho questioned if he had a nightmare while sleeping, but it was fine he could deal. You did look cute… as you smiled up at him… leaned up to kiss his cheek… and whisper in his ear…

“Idiaaa~ What if I crawled under your desk and sucked you off? Do you think you could stay quiet? You can, can't you? For me~”

It was fuzzy, when he tried to remember it, but Idia remembers the heat pooling in his belly. Your hands trailing down his chest down to his hips. Your lips following after and pressing soft, slow kisses down and down until—

Idia's flames grew into a burning, hot pink as his face is in his hands the following morning. He'd actually gone to bed at a reasonable time (to him anyway, 3 am was reasonable), and woke up with that in his head? How was he supposed to function? How was he supposed to look at you, talk with you, when the last memory he had was a dream of you sucking him off???

It progressively got worse from there. It was a weird mix of erotically domestic scenarios. You, waking up to him in bed before work, riding him as you cooed sweet words. Another of the two of you heavy petting, his hands groping your ass as you curled your body into his, making out in his office before Idia had to run off to a meeting, leaving you pouting and telling him to, “Hurry back to your needy little wifey~” One of you cooking him breakfast in one of his shirts, before he bent you over the kitchen counter, after which you sat on his lap and hand fed him.

The last one that really freaked him out, which led to him further isolating himself until Ortho dragged him out to the nurse, was one where he woke up to you next to him in bed. You smiled the sweetest smile to him, whispering to Idia how much you loved him, moving over to press a trail of kisses from his lips, to his neck, down his chest and abdomen. Idia was anticipating the same follow-up from his first dream, especially as your hands reached to pull his briefs down before a soft whine, followed by a cry, interrupted you.

He had no clue what to think, as you make a surprised noise, smiling at him, as the following words left your mouth: “The baby's awake, guess we'll have to continue this later, huh?” Dream Idia giggled along with you as the two of you shared a kiss, watching as you rolled off the bed to the bassinet that he was just noticing. He watched as you cooed and murmured soft words to the small, blue-flamed haired baby, reaching their tiny hands for you. But it was the next sentence that bolted him from sleep into a dry sweat:

“Say good morning! Say, 'good morning' to your baba, my darling~”

Idia let out a screech as he flailed out of bed, tangled in his sheets. He was coughing up a storm of hydrangeas when Ortho flew in, panicked and already full of concern for Idia's health. It was then Ortho started insisting that Idia visit the infirmary, much to his chargin.

At least you'd never see him like this… right?

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

one order to be served by lewis carl davidson hamilton please!! oaty slice, english muffin, apple turnover and croissant with a side of tea, cider and pina colada 😁😁 reader is working remotely and having an online meeting but lewis is dying to eat her out and just do it while she was in the meeting 🥵💦

irresistible

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, i think this may be my longest story yet, i have been dying to write this and get back to writing after being gone so long, i hate promising to post and then not being able to cause of work, sorry for the late reply <3 your requested prompts will be bolded

pairing; husband lewis hamilton x female wife reader

blurb; working from home while trying to hide the fact that your married and pregnant is hard when your husband can't keep is hands to himself, he's just lucky you love him aka lewis eats his wife out while she's on a zoom call

warnings; oral fem!receiving, thigh kisses, belly kisses, semi public sex, body worship, pregnancy kink. [let me know if i missed anything]

tea; semi public sex cider; body worship pina colada; pregnancy oaty slice; "you smell like me" english muffin; "i could die between these legs" apple turnover; "can you keep it down in there" changed to "can you keep it down under there" croissant; "don't you dare"

words; 3.1k

currently playing; hands to myself by selena gomez "can't keep my hands to myself, no matter how hard i'm trying to"

"oh god dammit, boba no!" you scolded your two year old calico who sat on the stool next to your laptop, swatting at the screensaver you had set, picking her up you stepped out of the little home studio you'd made for yourself during the covid days.

"lew!" you called out waiting for an answer but after not getting one, you wandered down the hall and into the living room, as you carried boba into the living room, she squirmed in your arms, clearly displeased at being removed from her new favorite perch, you sighed, scratching behind her ears to relax her "i know, i know the pretty lights are fun, but mommy needs to work."

as you entered the living room, you noticed lewis sprawled out on the couch, completely engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone. you rolled your eyes fondly, a soft smile decorating your face as you realized why he hadn't answered your call.

"lew..." still no response as his eyes remained trained on his phone "lewis hamilton" you scolded and that caught his attention immediately, looking up at you with soft eyes as he dropped his phone.

"am i in trouble.." he gulped, looking sheepish as he responded.

"not yet," you said, your tone softening as you took in his worried expression. "but you will be if you don't start paying attention."

you merely dropped boba onto his lap and crossed your arms over your chest "please keep her out of my studio... the album is due at the end of the month and i still have three songs to finish" you groaned.

he nodded numbly which made you feel guilty for scolding him over something so silly and so you lent down and placed little kisses against his lips "i'm sorry i called you lewis" you mumbled as your thumb gently traced over his cheek. "you'll always be my lew"

you left him on the sofa, shuffling to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge but before you could move and return to your studio, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, cradling your pregnant belly lightly.

"you smell like me bub" lewis mumbled into the skin of your neck, which sent shivers zipping up and down your spine.

you leaned back into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. a soft smile played on your lips as you placed your hands over his, intertwining your fingers.

"i should hope so," you murmured, turning your head slightly to catch his eye, resting it on his shoulder. "i've been wearing your sweater all day."

he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. "i noticed," he said, his arm tightening around you. "it looks incredible on you."

"well i unfortunately have to take it off soon" you groaned "stupid zoom meeting with my producer"

lewis sighed, running his fingers over your bump, the soft fabric of his over sized sweater rubbing on your skin gently. "can't you just keep it on for the meeting?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

you shook your head, a wry smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "not unless i want to explain to my producer why i'm wearing 'the' lewis hamilton's sweater" you giggled.

lewis chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "but i'd love to see see his reaction." his voice dropped into a whisper, your producer had always been flirty with you mainly because he thought you were single and lewis hated it.

you playfully swatted his arm, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity and tone of voice. "that's horrible lew"

"i hate the way he flirts with you, your mine" he growled against the skin of your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin. "and this proves it" his finger ran over the cold metal of your wedding band.

"your lucky i love you lew, your so possessive and you and i both know you like keeping this private, i like it being just us" you giggled, removing yourself from his grip, pulling his sweater up and over your head, placing it on the counter.

you stood on your tippy toes to peck his lips "love you, i should go" and with that you made your way back to your studio, almost waddling due to the size of your belly.

as you walked, lewis couldn't help but admire you in your white floral maternity dress, he couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in his belly or resist the surge of desire that simmered within him.

lewis had always found you irresistible but now that you were pregnant he could hardly ever keep his hands to himself anymore, working on your newest album was the only break you got from his ever wandering hands.

but unfortunately for you, it seemed that not even that would be enough to stop lewis anymore, he made his way to your home studio, feet padding on the hardwood floors as he went.

you wouldn't have even known that lewis was there, leaning against the door-frame had he not accidentally bumped the door causing the hinges to squeak.

"what are you doing lew" you mumbled, taking your seat in front of your mic, lewis didn't answer your question, he merely wandered over and dropped to his knees in front of you.

his head rested in your lap, hands holding your hips as he placed kisses to your swollen belly, each of them filled with love and a gentleness that only lewis had ever shown you, it was part of the reason you'd fallen for him.

"want to taste you bub" his words were mumbled but you understood him well enough, you shook your head "don't you dare even think about it" you softly scolded, hand cupping his cheek.

but lewis wasn't in the mood to listen, he wanted to taste you and he had to do it now, the desire simmering within him was pushing him to do so, you were beautiful and he just couldn't get enough of you.

his hands trailed up your thighs, his touch feather light and making a pool of desire simmer in your own belly or was that just the baby getting hungry again, most likely the latter you thought as a giggle escaped your soft lips.

"why do i even bother" you murmured as his fingers started pulling at the band of your panties, eager to get them off and thrown into the nearest corner as soon as humanly possible.

you lifted your hips knowing if you didn't that lewis would simply rip them off you and you couldn't afford to be down yet another pair of panties all because your husband couldn't keep his hands to himself.

you watched as his head disappeared under the skirts of your dress, hands gently parting your thighs to get a better look at your dripping cunt, the way this man could affect you so easily.

he nuzzled against the soft skin of your thigh, you started to get lost in the feeling when the facetime ringtone rang out through the room causing you to jump in your seat, you were so distracted by your god of a husband that you'd basically forgotten you were meant to be facetiming your producer.

"can you keep it down under there" you asked lewis and when he hummed against your skin, you trusted him, bad choice might i say and adjusted your laptop so that both lewis and your belly were out of view before clicking 'accept call'.

"there's the star i know and love" your producer; thomas's voice rang out, you glanced at the screen and smiled as best you could, with lewis currently between your legs, the last thing you wanted to be doing right now was talking to thomas.

"hey tom" you mumbled, voice quiet in order to keep yourself from moaning as lewis kissed at your thighs, slowly inching his way towards your dripping wet cunt with every kiss.

thomas began to ramble about the new album and the last three songs that were needed and while you tried your best to listen, your focus was quickly pulled away from the computer screen and was put into staying quiet when lewis's tongue licked your cunt from bottom to top, nibbling on your clit which he knew would make you squirm.

you nibbled on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your composure as lewis worked his magic between your thighs. you could have sworn you could taste the metallic tang of blood from how hard you were gnawing on your bottom lip in that moment.

thomas's voice began to fade into a distant buzz in your ears. your fingers gripped at the arms of your chair, knuckles turning white as you fought the urge to moan.

lewis's hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. the thrill of potentially being caught only heightened your arousal. you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body betraying your attempts to appear normal.

"taste so good" you heard lewis's mumbled voice and if you weren't so focused on trying to remain quiet and not draw attention to what was really going on, on your side of the screen you would've smacked him round the head.

thomas's face on the screen remained oblivious, still chattering away about chord progressions and potential guest artists. "what about olivia, we've been wanting to work together for awhile" you suggested when you managed to calm yourself enough to speak, your suggestion set thomas off on another tangent.

'good' you thought, that should hopefully keep him distracted for a while but you were once again pulled from your thoughts when lewis's tongue swirled around your most sensitive spots, making your thighs tremble around his head.

you were struggling to maintain your composure as lewis continued his ministrations. thomas's voice once again fading into a distant buzz as pleasure coursed through your body.

"that's actually a great idea," you managed to catch thomas say. "maybe we could arrange a writing session next week?" he suggested to which you merely nodded in return.

lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of your chair, the new angle sent a jolt of electricity up your spine, and you had to disguise the gasp that escaped you as a cough.

"everything okay?" thomas asked, his brow furrowing with concern, he was always concerned when it came to you, sometimes a little too much for lewis's liking.

"peachy" you squeaked, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "just recovering from a bit of a dry throat" you lied, reaching for your water bottle to make it seem real.

lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, he was going to leave bruises that was for sure but knowing your husband as well as you did, he would also make sure to kiss them better because he hated hurting you, even when you insisted you were fine.

you knew you were completely fucked however the moment you felt lewis's tongue slip inside your cunt, desperate to taste every bit of you that he could.

your breath caught in your throat as lewis's tongue explored you hungrily. every flick and swirl sending shock waves of pleasure radiating through your body, your hips began to involuntarily move against his face the best they could with your rounded swollen belly in the way, thank god it was still hidden from the cameras view.

"oh god, bub" you moaned softly, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

he growled quietly in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations you were currently feeling. lewis's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he devoured you with single-minded focus, you were his top priority in this moment and his focus would remain entirely on you, until you tipped over the edge of your release.

wave after wave of bliss washed over you as lewis worked you expertly with his mouth, you could feel yourself getting close, teetering on the edge of release, just a little more...

"ah y/n, you still with me" holy fuck!, you'd completely forgotten about your producer currently working on a melody on his side of the computer screen, thomas was the most oblivius man you'd ever known and today it was working in your favor.

the fact that he somehow hadn't noticed what was going on almost made you laugh, you bit your lip hard to stop yet another soft moan from slipping past your lips and despite everything that was happening, you somehow managed to croak out a reply to thomas.

"y-yeah, just concentrating," you stammered, struggling to keep your voice steady, thomas nodded absentmindedly, completely focused on the track he was currently mixing. "what do you think of this bassline?" he asked, pressing play.

a pulsing beat filled the room, providing the perfect cover as lewis picked up his efforts, he wanted thomas to know what was going on but you were not about to let that happen, not on your watch.

"it's good," you gasped out "maybe try... ah speeding it up a bit?"

as thomas began to fiddle with the tempo, you felt yourself rapidly approaching the point of no return, lewis's skilled tongue was soon joined by his equally skilled fingers slipping inside your tight hot cunt as his mouth started to suck and nibble on your clit.

all the emotions and sensations that you were feeling was making your head dizzy, you wanted to end the call with thomas right then and there so that you could focus on lewis and lewis alone but you knew that, that wasn't about to happen unfortunately.

as lewis's movements intensified, you were struggling to maintain your composure, your breath quickened as you fingers tangled in the fabric of your dress skirt and hiked it up and around your hips.

as you did lewis looked up at you with mischievous eyes, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you, his fingers curled inside you, finding that pleasurable spongy spot inside you as his tongue flicked rapidly over your sensitive bud, you swore you could feel lewis smile agaisnt you.

"is everything alright?" thomas asked, finally beginning to notice how quiet you were being on this call compared to all the other video calls you'd shared over these past few months.

"ah.. actually no" you stammered out. "i think i might be coming down with something" you lied to thomas for a second time today.

lewis increased his pace, determined to push you over the edge, you weren't sure how much longer you were going to be able to hold on.

your breath hitched as you tried to maintain your composure, thomas's concerned voice crackled through the phone, "do you need to rest? we can talk later if you're not feeling well."

"n-no, it's okay," you managed to mutter, lewis's fingers dug into your thighs, his tongue and finger's relentless rhythm threatening to unravel you completely.

"are you sure?" thomas pressed, clearly unconvinced. "you sound... strange." panic fluttered in your chest. you couldn't let him suspect what was really happening. "i'm fine, really," you insisted, your voice strained. "just a bit of a headache." you reached for your water once more.

lewis pulled away from your cunt, his fingers slipping out of your warm cunt as well, his breath was hot against the skin of your thighs as he whispered, "tell him you have to go” oh how you prayed thomas hadn't heard that.

you felt a shiver run down your spine at lewis's command. your mind raced, torn between the overwhelming sensations that your husband was making you feel and the need to stay on the video call with thomas and finish the album.

"actually," you gasped out, "i think i might need to lie down for a bit." you had caved, mind you with a husband like lewis, who wouldn't cave when asked.

"of course," thomas replied, his voice laced with genuine concern for you "get some rest. we can catch up tomorrow."

"thanks," you whispered, your finger moved the cursor so it was hovering over the end call button. "i'll text you later." as soon as the call disconnected, a low moan escaped your lips.

lewis looked up at you again "good girl," he murmured, his voice husky with desire for you, his beautiful wife. "now, let me hear you properly."

you finally allowed you restraint crumble and you cried out, no longer having to hide the pleasure coursing through your body. "your a fucking menace lew" you scolded your husband as he went back to work, tongue flicking across your clit with renewed fervor.

lewis chuckled against your sensitive core, the vibrations sending shock waves of pleasure through you once more, his strong hands which you loved oh so much gripped at your thighs, holding you in place as you writhed in your seat.

"you love it," he murmured "no i love you" you replied, fingers tangling in with his twisted braids "my handsome handsome husband"

"don't you dare stop," you gasped, your voice hoarse with need, lewis redoubled his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure, he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just so and that's when you saw stars, your back arched as waves of ecstasy washed over you

"that's it, baby," lewis encouraged, your body trembled as he guided you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, his touch now feather-light and teasing, when your breathing finally steadied, he kissed a trail up your body paying special attention to your bump before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you swore you could taste yourself on his tongue.

"you're so beautiful when you come undone," he murmured pulling away his voice low and husky, his hands rubbed at your thighs soothingly "i could die between these legs" he chuckled.

"i am so going to write a song about this" you teased with a giggle, hand cupping his cheek as you stared into the brown eyes you loved so much, that could be a pretty could be an interesting way to announce your relationship you thought.

he leaned into your touch, a soft smile playing on his lips. "oh yeah? what's it gonna be called?" he asked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

"hmm," you pondered, pretending to think hard. "how about 'the ballad of lewis's talented tongue'?" you joked.

lewis could help but burst out in laughter, burying his face in your neck, "cheeky," he mumbled against your skin, pressing a soft kiss there. "i like it though but i might have to fight you for the rights to it."

you ran your thumb across his cheek, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "we could always collaborate," you suggested, your voice softening. "i think we would make beautiful music together."

lewis lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a tender look that made your heart skip. "we already do, love,"

[multi-fandom-imagine]

❥𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || Stanford Pines ||

Request:

It started out like any other normal night, minus the fact you were heavily pregnant. Ford swore he knew the exact date and time when your water would break even going as far to have some bags packed and ready.

So when your water broke during the middle of the night needless to say it came as a surprise to the man.

"My calculations must be off." Ford muttered as he tapped at his watch.

"Ford! Hospital ! Now!" You gritted your teeth, body hunched over, hand on your belly.

"Ah right away dear!" Ford gave you a weak smile as his arms wrapped around your waist as he guided you out to the car. "We'll get you to the hospital on time."

A cry tore from your lips, your nails digging into the seat. "Ford...you need to pull over and call an ambulance...I can't"

Ford parted his lipa, his hands tightening on the wheel as he looked at you then the road ahead of himself.

Maybe if he went faster then he might make, though hearing your pained cry he couldn't help but flinch hating that you were in pain. Fumbling with the phone, Ford did his best to stay calm as he pulled off on the side of the road.

He could do this, you were the love of his life, you were having his children.

He could do this.

Ford could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks as he held two of the squirming new borns in his arms. His heart leaping in his throat as the paramedic instructed you to push one last time and with that his little girl was born.

The paramedic's closing the door to the ambulance, driving off to the hospital with you, Ford and the triplets.

"I'm already failing as a father, I could have gotten you four killed...I should have gotten it better I mist have missed-."

"Ford." Giving him a tired smile, you placed your hand on his cheek. "You did a wonderful job, you were by my side...that's all that matters."

Giving you a watery smile, Ford lent over kissing your head then turned his attention to the new borns.

"I love you...I love you all so much...thank you...thank you for giving me a family." Ford whispered. "Thank you for choosing me, for loving me."

Smiling, your thumb caressed his cheek brushing away a stray tear. "I love you too Ford...more than anything."

[azzibuckets]

anything you want [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: fluffy blurb based off this moment last year when paige dressed azzi in her entire outfit at the sza concert then lent her her jacket

a/n: dedicated to @clairosrealwife for messaging me on 4 different places asking for a new fic like the overbearing annoying ass she is

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

“Yikes.”

Paige, Jana, and Aaliyah peered through the doorway of Azzi’s room, all exchanging glances at the sight before them. Azzi was slumped on the floor, face down in a pile of clothes while shirts and sweaters were strewn all over her bed, furniture, and closet.

They’d been eating snacks in the kitchen before muffed groans had pierced the peaceful silence of the dorm. Azzi had been in a mood all day, and no one on the team dared to bother her when she was pissed off. But it was becoming hard to enjoy their Lays when Azzi was huffing and storming around in the other room, so they made a mutual agreement to approach the girl together by having strength in numbers.

“Azzarae,” Aaliyah said gently, always having a soft spot for her younger roommate. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find anything cute to wear for the concert,” Azzi groaned. “This is literally the worst day of my life. I failed my exam in accounting this morning and then I got a smoothie to console myself but then I fucking spilled the entire thing-,”

Paige glared at her teammates as they slowly started to creep away from the door. “Your girlfriend, your problem,” Aaliyah mouthed before she and Jana took off, giggling as they returned back to their snacks.

Fatties, Paige thought bitterly to herself before entering the room and shutting the door. “You know the entire team is scared of you whenever you’re mad?”

A small smirk slid its way onto Azzi’s face. “I know. They leave me alone for once. I get peace and quiet.”

Paige rolled her eyes fondly. She grabbed Azzi’s hand and folded it between hers, rubbing soothing circles across Azzi’s palm with her thumbs. “I got some new shit in the mail a few days ago. Come over and try them on?”

Azzi nodded gratefully. On their way out, Aaliyah and Jana were still laughing like hyenas, fingers flying across their screens as they texted the group chat about how they’d left Paige to her own devices. But as soon as Azzi sent them a withering stare, they both immediately shut up. “You’re such a pussy,” Jana whispered to Aaliyah. “You’re literally older than her.” Without looking up from her phone, Aaliyah jabbed Jana in the stomach.

Azzi made herself comfortable on Paige’s bed as the older girl started rummaging through some boxes in her closet. “Here.” Paige tossed a pile of plastic wrapped packages at Azzi.

Azzi’s hands hovered over the clothes. “You sure? You haven’t even gotten the chance to wear them yourself yet.”

Paige leaned down and pressed a kiss to Azzi’s neck, letting her lips linger on the sensitive pulse point that she knew made Azzi shudder. “Stop being so unselfish all the time,” she murmured, “or I’m gonna start making out with you and we’ll never make it to the concert.”

A rosy blush fell over Azzi’s cheeks. “That doesn’t sound half bad,” she admitted, tucking an unruly strand of blonde hair behind her girlfriend’s ear.

Paige playfully bit down on Azzi’s shoulder, earning a squeal from the dark haired girl. Smirking, she drew back and punched Azzi’s shoulder. “Try the clothes on, dumbass.”

“A full Supreme outfit outfit? Really?” Azzi wrinkled her nose in the mirror as she experimented with her shirt, tucking it in and scrunching up one side to see what would look best.

“It’s gonna be cold.” Paige tossed her a puffer vest. “This would go nice with the sweats.”

Azzi shrugged on the puffer vest. Tilting her head thoughtfully in the mirror, she rolled her shirt up to above her belly button, making it look like a cropped top. “Much better.”

“You tryna make people faint?” Paige complained, eyes glued to the shiny piercing on Azzi’s stomach.

Azzi grinned, hand gesturing across her body. “You like it?”

“You know I think you look good in everything.” Paige approached Azzi from behind, hands sneakily sliding under the vest to make contact with Azzi’s bare abdomen. Paige savored the way Azzi’s muscles contracted at her touch. “But you look better in this than I would, trust.” She nestled her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, her gaze meeting brown doe eyes in the mirror. “You look so pretty, baby.”

Azzi turned and planted a kiss on Paige’s cheek. “Wanna match? You can wear your other Supreme shirt?” She smiled at Paige, that goddamn smile reserved solely for the person she loved most in the world, and Paige had seen that smile and that dimple almost every day for six years now, but she swore her knees still went weak at the sight.

Paige’s thumb brushed the expanse of Azzi’s skin, dipping just below the waistline of her pants in a slow circle. “Anything you want.”

*********

“You know I can walk just fine by myself?”

Paige’s hands ghosted Azzi’s waist for the hundredth time that night. “I know.”

Thankful that Paige was behind her and couldn’t see her face, Azzi smiled. She would never admit it, but she loved whenever Paige got unnecessarily protective whenever they were in public, guiding her through crowds with a hand firmly planted on the small of her back. Their relationship was private to the point where they could never kiss or show affection in front of other people, but this was one subtle way Paige reminded Azzi of how much she loved her, and Azzi appreciated it.

“You’re shivering.” Azzi hadn’t even noticed how cold she was until Paige pointed it out, but suddenly she could feel the late night chill in her bones despite the body heat radiating from the crowd pressed against them.

“I’m fine,” Azzi brushed her off. “I’ll go buy a hot chocolate or something later.”

“You’re gonna get sick,” Paige murmured, hand reaching out to steady Azzi as she zipped up her girlfriend’s puffer.

“Can you guys stop being cute for once?” Aubrey grumbled from behind them.

Both of them ignored her.

When she noticed how Azzi was still trying to rub her hands together for warmth, Paige immediately took off her jacket and pushed it into Azzi’s hands.

“No,” Azzi insisted, trying to give the jacket back. “You’re literally in only a shirt Paige.”

“Well, I’m not cold at all,” Paige said stubbornly, refusing to accept the jacket. “Are you forgetting I grew up in Minnesota?”

“I’m not cold anymore,” Azzi lied.

Paige cocked an eyebrow. “So your lips aren’t trembling?”

Sighing in defeat, Azzi hesitated before slipping on the black coat over her puffer. Paige smirked, adjusting the collar so that it sat comfortably on Azzi’s shoulders. “Better?” she asked softly.

Azzi nodded, glancing around before bringing Paige’s hand to her mouth and pressing a fleeting kiss to her knuckles. “If you start getting cold I’m taking this jacket off,” she warned.

“I’m actually pretty warm,” Paige said breezily. “But I wouldn’t mind some extra body heat, if you know what I mean,” she said with an exaggerated wink.

Azzi rolled her eyes, biting back a smile as she huddled closer to her girlfriend, pressing her entire body against the blonde’s. Her fingers fumbled around before finding Paige’s hand and tangling them together.

“See? Perfect.”

[veilofwinter]

But IMAGINE …

Abby coming home from patrol, sweat running down her face from the effects of summer coming around. Your body draped across the couch as you did your best to stay awake and greet her. She walks over to you, seeing that you were reading a book she’d lent to you for your birthday, her hands running over the cover.

“Couldn’t stay awake for me YN?” She ask quietly, blowing air into your face to see if that would wake you. You open your eyes, reaching out in front of you to pull her into a hug. Abby watches the tight tank top that hugs your body just right, sliding up your torso. The skin of your stomach causing her mind to stir. Maybe she just liked you.

“Are you still tired?” She asks softly, lifting you up off the couch slowly. You wrap yourself around her body, she carries you into her bedroom that you basically assigned yourself too as well. Laying you down slowly while she places sweet kisses to your neck and jaw. “I can do all the work YN, you can just sit and look pretty.” She says barely above a whisper into your ear, making a shiver go down your spine as you squeeze your legs together.

“Okay.”

Her hands on your belly to keep you down as she penetrates you with her fingers. Her big arm wrapped around you thigh to keep your legs open as you whine and Grind against her face. She licks and spits against your clit, her thumb pressing down against the nub causing you to arch your back into her mouth. “Feel good yeah? Just wanna put you back to sleep f’me.” She says softly, keeping eye contact with you as you sit up to watch her.

Her fingers plunging into you just right, curling to hit that spot that only she could reach with her big thick fingers. Her eyes never leaving you, your legs shaking around her face, your hands gripping that pretty braid she lets you take your time helping her do every morning. Your eyes low as you throw your head back, feeling the knot in your stomach coming undone.

“Gonna cum? Yeah? Cum for me sweetheart, I wanna taste you.” She talks you through it, still plunging her fingers into you as you fall over the edge. “Been thinking about you all day, c’mon.” She bites her lip, watching as your mouth hangs open while you coat her fingers in your essence. She slows her fingers down, kissing your cheek softly as you catch your breath. She leans down to lick it all up, not wanting to leave a drop of you behind.

“Okay pretty baby, let’s get some sleep.” She says as she caresses your face, your body falling limp next her as you fall asleep half naked and in her embrace.

an: early morning story cause I got time. 💃

@sorrowsblogworld @sorrowsideas

[mushiwrites]

Marathon

Monkey D. Luffy x GN!Reader

NSFW 🔞

Luffy’s stamina on any given day was already leagues away from that of a normal person. Honestly, the same could be said for any member of the Straw Hats, but Luffy was just something else entirely. Put him in a room with a full belly, you, and nothing to fight and you just might have to actually kick him off to get a break.

Which is how you ended up here, pinned beneath your captain’s warm slick body. Sheets damp with sweat, fluids from the both of you, and the growing humidity in the small space. He’d been fucking you at this same consistent pace for hours now, having emptied himself into you twice already yet showing no signs of stopping. Your legs hooked over his hips while he fucked you into the mattress, hips following a steady tempo while he buried his face in the damp skin of your chest. The pace he set and maintained was maddening, just fast enough to keep you on the edge but not quite enough to push you over. Luckily your loving captain lent a hand in breaking that tension, yet never once broke that damned pace. A rubber machine.

“You feel so good,” Luffy’s lips mumbled into the skin of your neck, that maddening push and pull of his hips stealing any verbal response you may have had. “Jus’ wanna stay here forever, so warm…” He trailed off to reach down and suck yet another dark bruise into the soft skin below your collarbone. One of your hands carded through Luffy’s sweat-soaked hair, gripping a fistful at the back and ripping a groan from his chest. Your other hand wound it’s way around his throat, not squeezing but settling firmly. You felt more than heard the breath catch in his throat as you pulled him up to meet your eye. His blown out eyes met yours and your lips brushed as you shifted your hands to cup both sides of his face.

“Fill me up Captain,” You swear you saw actual hearts in Luffy’s eyes as his resolve finally, finally broke. Somehow his cock felt harder inside you, and he shifted your legs into the crooks of his elbows as his hips swung harder to meet yours. Your cries were muffled by Luffy’s mouth, a kiss that could hardly be more than filthy tongue fucking stole the breath and sounds right from your throat.

“Fuuuuck,” Luffy ripped away from your mouth to sink his teeth into your shoulder. “Fuck you’re so good, so good for me, can you take it? Can you take one more? You’re so perfect, one more for your captain?” He was babbling now, hot breath on your ear as he lets your legs free to reach one arm under your back to grab the back of your neck and the other loops around your hips to hold you in place. “Please?” The plea in his voice brought your eyes back to his. Luffy’s gaze was locked on your face, desperate to really let go but still waiting for your permission. You buried your hands in his hair again and pulled him closed once more, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Yes my good boy, give me everything.”

The permission he was waiting for, the pet name earned you his strongest thrust yet. Eye contact was broken as both of you lost yourselves in the feeling of Luffy letting go. Strong, deep thrusts that echoed around the room brought you to the edge once more embarrassingly quickly and tossed you right off, coming from Luffy’s desperate fucking alone. The moment your body locked up with your peak, Luffy choked out his own and emptied into you. Your powerful captain, reduced to a whimpering mess gasping into your neck as he twitched out his third orgasm of the night.

The room was quiet aside from the both of you panting to catch your breath and a few lingering whimpers from Luffy. You both were in desperate need of a bath, but Luffy was busy trying to climb under your skin and you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to stop him (you’d need bones for that anyway and you think you might know how the Gum-Gum fruit feels now). Eventually Luffy settled down on top of you, still inside you, with his nose pressed firmly into the soft spot behind your jaw and his arms wrapped tightly around you too many times. The small porthole across the room blazed with midday light, too small to do more than tell you a nap can’t hurt and that the wind was still absent. You lifted your arms around Luffy’s back, one settling in his hair and the other across his lower back. Soft snores puffed across your throat as the warm body of your captain lulled you to join him in sleep.

Surely someone would come knocking if either of you were needed.

[kingkestrel]

Come Put Your Lips On Mine and Shut Me Up

(rated e, 5.3k, Norapinto, pwp, excessive use of pet names, Lando is a whiny brat, Franco is a tease)

“You told Ted you’re good with your mouth,” Lando stated suggestively, “Did you just mean talking or are you good at other things too?”

Franco gave him a look, a smirk almost, “I can do many things.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but Lando felt a tug of heat in his lower belly. “Like what?” he pressed, making a point of biting his lower lip and looking Franco up and down, making sure Franco noticed him doing so.

Franco’s smirk grew wider. He lent in a touch, pressed himself to Lando’s side, brought his lips to the shell of Lando’s ear. “You want me to show you?”

READ HERE

I also made a Norapinto PLAYLIST based on the vibes of this fic!

@slugesh @rocketinthesky

[doing-something-unholy]

Didn’t want to clown directly on op's post but Real and True!! Ive been thinking about this with post canon Victor, finally letting himself relax a little, not worrying so much about "indulging too much" especially around lent.

Spoilers for that patreon epilogue‼️

Victor letting his hair grow out a little, wearing more colors than just solid black, getting a tan from sailing with Alistair, putting on weight from eating good for the first time maybe ever. Little belly and love handles and smile lines and crows feet from grinning so wide-- 🫠🫠🥰🥰😍

[zablife]

The Shirt

Author's Note: Still obsessing over Cillian's wardrobe. Can you blame me? 🤭 This fic is 🔞

You ushered in the delivery with a small wave of your hand. You were preoccupied by your phone call and barely paying attention as Cillian's stylist dropped off a few outfits for his upcoming press tour. "Thank you," you mouthed before returning to your call.

As soon as you were finished with your own work for the day, you slipped downstairs to unzip the garment bags, eager to learn what he would be wearing. Cillian's stylist always chose the most flattering garments. Her recent decision to outfit him with a gold chain was a particularly inspired moment. You had approved of it instantly.

You threw open the bag with a flourish, gasping at the sight of a sheer, black shirt and a dark suit. “Holy shit,” you mumbled, unable to stop yourself from dragging your fingertips across the delicate fabric. As you did, a wicked idea came to you.

—————————————————————

“Y/n” Cillian called as he entered the house. “Baby where are you?” he pondered, finding the downstairs empty.

��Up here,” you called, biting your lip with anticipation. Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you listened to his heavy footsteps on the stairs. In a moment he would open the bedroom door and find you like this. Your brain buzzed with excitement at the thought of it.

Cillian's hand wrapped around the door as he pushed it open and his face said everything he couldn't. His jaw dropped as he caught sight of you in a black thong and sheer black shirt, breasts bare to him through the thin material. A lamp lent a soft glow to your curves and he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip slowly and hungrily.

Your hands skimmed your body suggestively as you asked, "Do you like it?" You teased him, pinching your nipples and feeling them harden to stiff peaks beneath the black veil of the shirt. His eye drifted as you did so, feeling his trousers grow tight at the sight of your breasts straining against the fabric.

Without answering he strode toward you and brought your body close to him, feeling the softness of your tits pushed against him. Capturing your lips in a messy, open mouthed kiss, he hummed in obvious satisfaction. Hands traveling from the back of your head and south to your ass, he squeezed the flesh in his palms as a primal grunt escaped his throat.

You giggled against his lips at the reaction you'd been hoping for. "So you do like it," you whispered into his ear.

Picking you up and tossing you onto the bed, he climbed over you. Hovering above you with lust blown pupils he asked, "Want me to show you?"

You nodded as he carefully unbuttoned your shirt, kissing along your sternum as he went and pulling an erect nipple into his mouth to suck it harshly. You gasped at the sensation, a sharp cry escaping your lips as he bit down suddenly.

“Show me,” you urged, reaching for his zipper and freeing his thick cock from the confines of his trousers. Stroking him with one hand, the opposite hand caressed his face. Rubbing a thumb over his sensitive tip, you heard him hiss at the contact and smiled up at him with glee.

It only took a moment for him to rip your underwear away and sink his hard length into you. You sighed with the contented feeling of being filled and he brushed his nose against yours gently. It belied the powerful thrust that came next and your back arched off the bed in surprise. You cried out with pleasure as he pistoned into you, too overcome with lust to control himself.

"Yes, there," you cried out as he changed angle, thrusting against your g-spot. Your hips pushed up to meet his, the squelching sound of your wetness giving you away. You would cum soon like this.

“M close,” he huffed, warm breath ghosting over the side of your neck.

“M-me too,” you stuttered, feeling the coil in your lower belly snap. Your warm walls clamped around him in a vice like grip as you reached your high. A shiver of pleasure ripped through you as the aftershocks continued and Cillian filled you with his sticky warmth.

Rolling off you to catch his breath, he ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair. “Is that a new shirt?” he panted. “Fucking love it,” he mumbled as he leaned over to kiss you.

A girlish laugh bubbled up from your chest as you shyly admitted, “It’s your new shirt, love. Your stylist dropped it off today.” You looked away guiltily as he considered your reply. Then a hearty chuckle erupted, breaking the silence in the room as he asked, “And who on earth wants to see me in that?”

“I want to see it!” you exclaimed, barely containing your excitement. You reached over to pull the garment from your side, eyebrow arching at him mischievously. “Try it on!” you implored, tossing it at him. A wicked grin tugged at your lips as you added, “And I’ll show my appreciation.”

He didn’t hesitate, taking the shirt from you and rushing toward the en suite. It would have to be dry cleaned before his premiere, but you smirked to yourself as you imagined all the fangirls who would obsess over it on the red carpet, wishing they could have him in their beds. You kicked your feet gleefully as you thought of the fact that you were the only woman who would see it up close…and on the bedroom floor.

[caesarflickermans]

Why Plutarch Heavensbee is the likely protagonist of Sunrise on the Reaping

Plutarch embodies SOTR’s propaganda theme

“With ‘Sunrise on the Reaping,’ I was inspired by David Hume’s idea of implicit submission and, in his words, ‘the easiness with which the many are governed by the few,’” Collins said in a statement. “The story also lent itself to a deeper dive into the use of propaganda and the power of those who control the narrative. The question ‘Real or not real?’ seems more pressing to me every day.” (AP)

Plutarch’s character embodies the themes of propaganda and controlling the narrative. He understands that it is “moves and counter-moves” (CF, 32:20). In his foil against Snow, he laid out a plan to destroy Katniss’ image through overexposure on TV, thus employing propaganda to control the image of a growing rebellion he secretly wanted to foster (CF, 32:35).

This understanding is in line with David Hume’s first principles of government, where he states that “the governors have nothing to support them but opinion” (Hume, Of the First Principles of Government). Plutarch understands this, as his plan of rebellion is based on influencing the opinion through the images shown to the TV audience.

His expertise continues in Mockingjay, where he lays out his plan in the shape of “propos--which is short for 'propaganda spots'--featuring [Katniss], and broadcast them to the entire population of Panem” (MJ, 3). Katniss recognises him as the mastermind behind the production, and sees a resemblance between these actions and his role as the Head Gamemaker (MJ, 8). At the end of the war, Plutarch’s expertise grants him the role as secretary of communications, in line with his previously gathered experience (MJ, 27).

When Hume speaks of “the implicit submission, with which men resign their own sentiments and passions to those of their rulers” (Hume, Of the First Principle of Government), it is Plutarch Heavensbee who mirrors this understanding and informs Katniss about it in the shape of Panem et Circenses; “Panem et Circenses translates into 'Bread and Circuses.' The writer was saying that in return for full bellies and entertainment, his people had given up their political responsibilities and therefore their power.” (MJ, 16). The fact that this is Plutarch who views the Games as such appears pivotal enough that Collins mentions him in reference to the quote:

SC: But there’s a dark side to bread, too. When Plutarch Heavensbee references it, he’s talking about Panem et Circenses, Bread and Circuses, where food and entertainment lull people into relinquishing their political power. Bread can contribute to life or death in the Hunger Games. (Scholastic, 2018)

Suzanne Collins’ previous interest in Plutarch

But when I step back and look at the series, she's not the character that I would identify most with. [...] This is such an unflattering thing to say about yourself, but it would be Plutarch Heavensbee. [...] Because he's the head gamemaker. Plutarch is creating the story, and he's creating the arena, and he's manipulating the characters--a writer isn't far from a gamemaker. I'm not for creating arenas or anything, but if you look at it from a creative perspective, we're really doing the same job. (times, 2013)

Suzanne Collins’ interest in Plutarch has culminated in the 10th Anniversary interview, where she makes frequent references to him, such as speaking about the reason why he was motivated to rebel. This indicates that Suzanne Collins has had deeper interest in Plutarch as a character and has an extensive backstory for him:

SC: Plutarch is the namesake of the biographer Plutarch, and he’s one of the few characters who has a sense of the arc of history. He’s never lived in a world without the Hunger Games; it was well established by the time he was born and then he rose through the ranks to become Head Gamemaker. At some point, he’s gone from accepting that the Games are necessary to deciding they’re unnecessary, and he sets about ending them. Plutarch has a personal agenda as well. He’s seen so many of his peers killed off, like Seneca Crane, that he wonders how long it will be before the mad king decides he’s a threat not an asset. It’s no way to live. And as a gamemaker among gamemakers, he likes the challenge of the revolution. But even after they succeed he questions how long the resulting peace will last. He has a fairly low opinion of human beings, but ultimately doesn’t rule out that they might be able to change. (Scholastic, 2018)

Not only is Plutarch the character linked to propaganda, but he is further juxtaposed with Snow, the first prequel protagonist. In this interview abstract, she places these two characters at odds, potentially indicating that Plutarch can be seen as an antithesis to Snow:

DL: One of the things that both Snow and Katniss realize is the power of media and imagery on the population. Snow may appear heartless to some, but he is very attuned to the “hearts and minds” of his citizens . . . and he is also attuned to the danger of losing them to Katniss. What role do you see propaganda playing in the war they’re waging? SC: Propaganda decides the outcome of the war. This is why Plutarch implements the airtime assault; he understands that whoever controls the airwaves controls the power. Like Snow, he’s been waiting for Katniss, because he needs a Spartacus to lead his campaign. (Scholastic, 2018)

Fitting as a future protagonist

YA protagonists are aged between 14-18 (Writer’s Digest), which Katniss (16-17) and Coriolanus (18) fall into. Thus, SOTR’s protagonist is unlikely to be someone older like Tigris, Snow, or Caesar. If the casting choice was representative of Plutarch’s age, he is within the fitting age range during the 50th Hunger Games.

A Gamemaker would offer a new perspective unlike the previous tribute and mentor point of views. Potentially, Plutarch could serve in the role of a junior or intern Gamemaker in between the Capitol’s High School (Academy) and College.

Suzanne Collins has hinted at several potential plot points that might be addressed in the prequel, such as:

At some point, [Plutarch’s] gone from accepting that the Games are necessary to deciding they’re unnecessary, and he sets about ending them. (Scholastic, 2018)

What was that point? What motivated him to wish to end the Games?

Like Snow, [Plutarch’s] been waiting for Katniss, because he needs a Spartacus to lead his campaign. There have been possible candidates, like Finnick, but no one else has captured the imagination of the country like she has. (Scholastic, 2018)

When and why did Plutarch realise he needed a “Spartacus to lead his campaign”? When did this campaign begin? Who else was a possible candidate?

“[...] They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!” [...] “Almost, but not quite,” says Haymitch from behind us. (CF, 14)

Was Haymitch’s “almost” rebellion perhaps the original inspiration for Plutarch to organise a rebellion through the arena? How did they try to spin his act? Was he the first possible “Spartacus”? Was there perhaps more to it that only the Gamemakers and Haymitch know about? Was footage manipulated or adjusted? Was the live show already manipulated or only later footage? How do the Gamemakers control the narrative? Will there be any insight helping us understand why the Gamemakers acted the way they did for the 74th Hunger Games?

Plutarch Heavensbee has been, for several years, part of an undercover group aiming to overthrow the Capitol. [...] We are currently on a very roundabout journey to District 13. (CF, 27)

Who was part of this group? How did he get in contact with District 13?

"Tigris," she says. "We need help." [...] "Plutarch said you could be trusted," adds Cressida. Great, she's one of Plutarch's people. / Tigris. Deep in my brain, the name rings a bell. She was a fixture--a younger, less disturbing version of herself--in the earliest Hunger Games I can remember. A stylist, I think. I don't remember for which district.  (MJ, 23)

How did Tigris and Snow fall out? How did Tigris become one of ‘Plutarch’s people’? Did they perhaps meet when Tigris was still a stylist and what was her life like then? Which Districts did Tigris work for?

"No. My mother and younger brother. My girl. They were all dead two weeks after I was crowned victor. Because of that stunt I pulled with the force field," he answers. "Snow had no one to use against me." (MJ, 12) / The crew hurries inside to edit the material, and Plutarch leads Finnick off for a chat, probably to see if he has any more stories. (MJ, 12)

Why and how was the decision made to kill Haymitch’s family? Did any people within the Capitol die due to Haymitch’s force field trick? Some that Plutarch might have known—possibly giving a personal motivation for rebelling against Snow?

Others begin to die off and it becomes clear that almost everything in this pretty place—the luscious fruit dangling from the bushes, the water in the crystalline streams, even the scent of the flowers when inhaled too directly—is deadly poisonous. (CF, 14) / A clock. I can almost see the hands ticking around the twelve-sectioned face of the arena. Each hour begins a new horror, a new Gamemaker weapon, and ends the previous. (CF, 23) / He made sure the wire was among the weapons. Beetee was in charge of blowing a hole in the force field. (CF, 27)

Were the arenas intended to be parallels to one another, seeming paradises until the true threats were revealed? And was the usage of the force field as the final act to destroy the arena an intentional parallel to Haymitch’s rebellious act?

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staircases and increasingly narrow halls (CF, 5) / And finally, how our mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, betrayed us both for a cause he pretended to have no interest in? (MJ, 2)

Will we learn why Haymitch knew the Justice Building in 11 so well? Could a young Plutarch perhaps have accompanied him on the victory tour who knew the place? Was this tour perhaps the beginning of their plotting together against the Capitol—with Plutarch trying to convince Haymitch to trust him?

[rahhhhhtbrbbsbwbbsbaj]

Monday

You woke up hungry, for more food and more fat. You checked the time and groaned. You'd overslept and the food you ordered was going to arrive at any sec- Ding Dong. Your doorbell rang, you quickly stood up and rushed the 15 metres from your bedroom to the door. You pulled down the handle after jiggling around the key and swung open the front door. The man standing outside was holding your 2 boxes of 12 donuts from Krispy Kreme. Suddenly you realised that your sleep shirt probably should've been retired once you gained the first 10 pounds. Now it pulled tight over your gut, fully revealing it's shape. It was also a little food stained as midnight snacking had become a nightly ritual at this point. Before he could react you took the boxes and retreated back inside the house muttering a quick thank you as you closed the door. Thank god you left a 15% tip to make up for that sight.

You sat at the dining table with the donuts laid in front of you, boxes opened. You told yourself you only had to finish 12, the full 24 was just a back up. Your stomach grumbled and you took a bite. You were surprised at this fact because you'd told yourself a moment earlier "no donuts untill I have a drink" and here you were, finishing the first donut and onto your second. You held it in your teeth as you poured yourself a large full sugar soda and began to make up two large sugary coffees that could rival Starbucks in calorie content. By the time you'd sat down with the drinks 4 rings were gone. You found yourself incredibly turned on by this fact. Your appetite had overridden everything else in that moment. You took a sip of your drink and began to eat.

8 donuts down and you started to feel yourself getting full, you felt your stomach stretching to accommodate the volume of food. It felt so good you just had to reach down to pleasure yourself. Before you new it the donuts in the first box were gone. You felt full and a little painful but you could keep going as long as you didn't stop. You reached for the 20th donut and knew you couldn't take it anymore. You brought the donut to your lips and then finished. 4 donuts could be eaten another time.

You let out a large burp and suddenly felt relief. Pleasantly overstuffed you lent back to give your belly some room while you rubbed small circles across it's distended surface. After a moment to compose yourself you got up, marveling at the added weight pushing down with every step as you walked (waddled) to the bathroom. You washed your hands, purposefully ignoring your stomach, and then stepped back. Wow. You had never seen yourself this swollen before, it almost seemed impossible.

You heaved three heavy breaths before deciding that you should probably go and lie down. You grabbed your phone, laptop, and half of today's snacks (Pringles, Reece's, peanut MnMs, soda, and a cup full of heavy cream). You weren't hungry yet but you knew snacking was your weakness and the moment some of your fullness subsided you were going to start grazing instantly.

You were right. Laughing at something on your screen you barely noticed that you had already made your way through a pretty good portion of the snacks. You unconsciously started to speed up and soon you were finished. You felt yourself reaching for the next item only to find nothing. You frowned, surprised, it had only been about an hour and a half. Pent up gluttony from years of diet and exercise was finally being let loose. Lunch was an hour away and you were glad of it, you needed time for all this food to settle yet craved for the day where you would feel like you were starving despite eating mere minutes before.

Still swollen about 15 minutes before the delivery was about to arrive you pulled on a muscle shirt. You looked down to see it was way too tight so you pulled on an oversize hoodie. This was probably what you were going to have to be using whenever you went out in public from now on. You readied your lunch time beverages, beer and soda, before hearing the doorbell ring. You opened it, thanked the delivery driver and took your food. You unwrapped and set out 2 humungous burritos and an order of queso from a local Mexican place. Now with the food in front of you the strangest feeling started to occur. You could still feel how full you were from this morning but your brain was making you feel ravenous. You eagerly tucked in, chowing down on the overfilled tortillas. Once you had finished you realised that you had pushed past uncomfortable and were now encroaching on bursting. The beer was definitely messing with you because you still felt hungry. Unable to resist you took down another cup of heavy cream before grabbing the rest of today's snacks and heading to bed.

You woke with your distended belly in your hands and your heart racing. You could feel the excess sugar and calories begging to be worked off, instead you started on your snacks before scrolling on your phone. God it was hot to know you were in so so much excess. Hours past before you got up to inspect your belly. Wow it was huge. You could see a faint red mark, barely the length of your pinky nail, on the side of your stomach. Was that a... stretch mark? It was too soon to tell but knowing how rapidly you were growing made you let out a deep throaty noise. You checked the time, dinner was only about 10 minutes away, you needed to feel fuller, stretch more.

Again you set up for your meal, got your food and dug in. 2 large Domino's pizzas was a little excessive, but you knew you could do it. Ripping through them with a speed and intensity you didn't know you possessed you took down the pizzas along with the drinks you prepared. Once dinner was finished you set a timer for 2 am and then got ready for bed. You really needed time for this food to settle.

Before that though you went to have a shower. Seeing yourself this big in the mirror astonished you. As you cleaned yourself you seemed to be going over and over your belly. Trying to touch it and feel it from all angles. Learning this new version of yourself would be so amazing. After your shower you set up a little something and then went to sleep.

Your alarm blared at 2am. You knew you had to interrupt your sleep to gain the most fat. Sleepily you got out of bed and went over to your prepared desk. The 4 Krispy Kreme doughnuts and 2 cups of cream sat Infront of you. Barely noticing you took them down before dragging your swollen form to the bathroom scales. You were instantly wide awake as soon as you saw 165. 165? You knew the water weight was going to be a lot but only about 3 of those pounds were supposed to be fat gain. You smiled to yourself knowing what was in store before you went back to bed and drifted off.

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 26: Thereafter

Start From Beginning | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1k AN: This is more of an epilogue of sorts. There's not a lot of dialogue, but it does kind of wrap everything up. I really have enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have enjoyed it as well :) thanks for a fun time and a great ride. I could say 5,000 more things about this fic and how much I love you for supporting it, but let's finish this up :)

It had taken Ace a few days to make the house liveable, but plenty of people had opened their homes for you to stay in while you all finished the essential repairs. They never made you feel like a burden, and even though you tried to keep to yourselves, they were eager to get to know you.

You had expected to pay for all the tools you needed, but the townsfolk on this island were kind and generous. Several families had lent Ace tools, and some had even come by to offer their help. Even though you were on a hill outside of town, people dropped in throughout the day, bringing baked goods or hand-sewn linens as welcoming gifts. 

So much for privacy. You had more of it in your shared bunkhouse on the Moby Dick. 

But you didn’t find yourself irritated by the townspeople’s check-ins. While most of them asked basic questions about your past and eyed Ace’s scarred back, they never pried. And even better, they always seemed to know when it was time to leave. 

After a few weeks, you had fallen into a strange pattern of familiarity. Even as your belly grew bigger, you tried your best to help Ace as much as you could every day. In the morning, you would get up and make him coffee. He would always scold you, claiming that you were the one who was supposed to be pampered right now, but he continued to allow you to do it for now. 

You all would eat a quick breakfast, and then begin to work on house improvements. The morning was the best time to work, since it was still cool out. The two of you patched up holes in the walls and began to decorate the inside of your little two-bedroom cabin. The projects never seemed to end.

And every morning while you worked, Mr. Cheddle would deliver a newspaper, and you would invite him in for breakfast. If he declined, you would send him some kind of snack to thank him for bringing the paper up the hill. You knew he didn’t mind, but you still felt obligated to send him away with something. 

You’d leave Ace to go make lunch, and usually find some variety of baked goods on the counter from someone welcoming you to the town. You often found yourself wondering if people would ever stop sending you things, or if you would become someone who baked for your neighbors just for the hell of it. 

At lunch, you would read the paper and update Ace on anything interesting. Afterwards, the two of you would typically walk to town together to find something to do. Some days you would shop, others you would go your separate ways. Whether it was tea with Arabelle, or a walk in the park with Crilly and her three dogs, or even sitting at Sellie-Tien’s shop and catching up on gossip, you always found something to do. 

And as the sun set, you and Ace would walk back up the hill, talking of your time spent apart, and even stopping to chat with others along the road. 

What a strange life you were living. How mundane it all was. And yet…perfect. 

On one particular day it had been too hot for you to work, even in the morning. And with nothing to do, you decided to read the News Coo early. You kept your eyes peeled for any words of Luffy, but there had been no news of him since his stunt at Marineford. 

However, today there was far more interesting news on the front page. One you had been waiting for. 

One about Portgas D. Ace.

“You’re dead!” You cheered, holding up the News Coo to show Ace. 

Ace dropped his tools and ran over to you, reading it over quickly. 

“They made a grave for me and everything,” he said. “Impressive.” 

“It helps that they took your hat,” you mentioned. He pouted at the thought. 

“I’m gonna miss that hat.” He handed the paper back to you. “What about you?”

“Still nothing.” You read through the article once again just to make sure you hadn’t skipped anything. “I doubt they’ll officially say I’m dead.”

“Really?” Ace asked. “Why’s that?”

“Because they reported it wrong once,” you admitted, setting the paper down. “They can’t do that again. Can you imagine the embarrassment?”

“But they won’t bother us here.” Ace looked out over the ocean. “They don’t have jurisdiction.”

“That’s why Marco chose it for us,” you said. “It’s quiet. Out of the way. Nobody will bother us. It’s perfect.”

“Seems like a more than fair trade off,” Ace said, and you nodded in agreement. 

“We finally get to have our happily ever after.”

Ace smiled at you, kissing your cheek. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you. Our perfect little family.”

---

Sengoku stared long and hard at a small piece of paper with little hearts doodled all over. Against everything that he knew and had been told, the card sat between his fingers in perfect condition. 

Garp walked into the room, full of drive and purpose. “Listen Sengoku, I need to tell you something. I-“

“I know,” he said. “You’re going to retire. But before you turn in that resignation letter, I want to give you something.”

Sengoku handed off the piece of paper covered with hearts. “Do with this what you will. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never seen it.”

Garp examined it, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the name written across it in perfect cursive. Ace. 

“Where did you get this?”

“We took it off Portgas D. Ace when he arrived at Impel Down.  We thought it belonged to him, but that must not be the case, since he’s dead now.”

Garp held the card in his hand carefully. The paper slowly inched away from him. “So who’s it belong to then?”

“Probably nobody,” Sengoku shrugged. “I’m about to retire myself, and that little scrap of paper seems like a lot of paperwork and a lot of personal investigation. I just don’t have it in me. Especially for some pirate who we all saw die. Take it off my hands for me. Do something with it, just don’t tell me what. As a favor.”

“Yes sir,” Garp said, tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“No Garp,” Sengoku said. “Thank you.”

--

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[multi-fandom-imagine]

Dad!Alastor when you're uncomfortable during pregnancy / going into labour?

A/n: I need to write something small, decided to make this be about you being pregnant with the second baby.

Edit: I 100% read that wrong, I am so tired, it was meant to be Alastor, dont know how I saw Lucifer.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to get in a more comfortable position. Edna frowned as she rested her head on your belly, her eyes looking up at you with a worried expression on her face.

"Are you okay mama?"

Sucking in some air, you forced a smile on your face as you placed your hand on your daughters head. "I'm fine...really sweetie, you have nothing to worry about."

Just as Edna was about to protest, Charlie lifted her in her arms giving you a light smile. "Dad will be in soon, I'll watch over her."

"Thank you Charlie." giving her a relived smile, you watched the two leave only for Lucifer to rush in. "Hello girls!" his attention quickly moving to you. "Are you okay? is he here?" chest heaving he moved to your side placing his hand on your belly, doing his best to sooth you.

"I'm fine...okay maybe I'm not fine per say but I am well enough." Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes for a moment.

Letting out a grunt, Lucifer moved so he was sitting behind you, to hold you. "Well...the person to help you with the baby so be here soon and then after that I will be holding my son and I am just."

Despite the pain hitting you thanks to the contractions, you couldn't help but chuckle at Lucifer's reaction. He was just to adorable, to sweet as you lent into his embrace. "You went through this two times before, how are you still nervous."

"To be honest, Lilith didn't want me in the room when Charlie was born." he grumbled. "And with Edna.." he paused pressing his face into your neck. "She was my second chance...you were my second chance and now our little family is growing and." Lucifer sniffled as he messaged your side then placed a kiss to the side of your head. "I love you, you and our family mean's so much." His voice wavered as he continued to message yourside.

Gaze softening, you looked up at Lucifer gritting your teeth for a moment as the contractions hit you again though you let out a soft sigh feeling warmth from Lucifer's finger tips take the pain away. "You're such a good father Lucifer, I couldn't have asked for a better husband...I love you too."

Smiling, Lucifer held you close then kissed the top of your head. "I can't wait to meet him"

"I feel the same way."