#miles trying to hold a baby is SENDING me

[jandthecrow]

Connected

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

SUMMARY: Simon gives you one of those trendy bracelets made for couples on Christmas Day. Literally saw an ad for it and immediately thought about this.

CW: SFW, wholesome, Soft!Simon, Christmas Day, established relationship, non gendered reader

The room was quiet except for the soft crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of wrapping paper. Snow fell lightly outside, the sun making the snow glow with a beautiful sheen. You and Simon sat close together on the living room floor, surrounded by open boxes and torn ribbons. The morning had been filled with laughter and surprises both big and small, but Simon had one last gift for you.

He reached behind the couch and pulled out a small box, wrapped in baby blue paper and tied with a simple white string. His fingers paused on it for a moment before he handed it to you, his eyes holding yours.

“This one’s… different. Don’t know if you’ll like it,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

You tilted your head, as you took the gift. “Different how?” You say examining the box and the little white snowflakes printed on the thin paper.

“Just open it,” he grunted, his gaze unwavering.

With a small smile, you tugged at the white string and peeled back the paper, revealing a sleek black box. Lifting the lid, you were met with the sight of two bracelets nestled inside; sleek, simple, and modern. One was slightly larger and blue, clearly meant for a bigger wrist; Simon’s wrist specifically. While the other was smaller and white gold - with a small skull printed on top (he had to stake his claim somehow lol) designed for a smaller wrist - yours.

“Wait… are these what I think they are?” you asked, glancing up at him.

“They are,” he confirmed, his tone gruff but softened by the emotion in his eyes. “Thought it’d be… useful. For when I’m not here.”

You picked up the smaller bracelet, running your fingers over its smooth surface. “They’re the ones that send a signal, right? To let the other person know you’re thinking of them?”

Simon nodded, his forearms resting on his thighs as he leaned forward watching you. “Yeah. You press the button, and it buzzes on the other end. Subtle. Nothing flashy.”

Your chest tightened as the weight of the gesture sank in. He wasn’t the type to voice his emotions often, but this - this was his way of saying he wanted to stay connected, even when countless miles separated you.

“I…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words to express your aching heart. “Simon, this is… it’s perfect.”

He shifted slightly, reaching for the other bracelet and sliding it onto his wrist. “It’s not much, but I figured… if you ever needed… or um missed me… or maybe if I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you - this would help.”

You slipped your own bracelet onto your wrist, marveling at how well it fit. “It’s more than enough,” you said softly, pressing the small button on the side.

A faint vibration buzzed against Simon’s wrist, and his eyes crinkled at the edges as he glanced down at the bracelet. Without a word, he pressed his own button, and you felt the gentle pulse against your wrist in return.

The exchange was silent, but it spoke volumes.

“This way, you’ll never be alone… even when I’m not there for you,” he said his voice breaking and filled with a rare tenderness.

You reached over, placing your hand on top of his. “And neither will you.”

The two of you sat there for a while, the fire place crackling as the fire danced. The world outside seemed to slow, as if the world was giving you this moment to savor.

“Merry Christmas, Simon,” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

The bracelets weren’t just a gift but a promise. No matter where he was, or how far apart you might be, you’d always have a way to reach each other. A silent signal that said, I’m here. I’m thinking of you. And for both of you, it was everything you could ever ask for.

[tonystarkstan]

brb crying over Mayday being held by her extended spider-family

[poguehearted77]

Hi!! I've watched the scene where Sarah is starving and Rafe is pacing around and knowing he has cash in his pocket and doesn't care that his sister is starving and pregnant. I can't help but imagine it if it was reader, and they hooked up once twice or however you see fit, and she's pregnant with his baby.

Would it be any different? Could you write something about that? Take the idea and run with it because im bad at articulating 🤣

Oh yeah, Rafe is a class-A asshole, but he might show just a little remorse if the baby is his.

Love the requests, keep sending em' in!!

The Moroccan sun was beating down on the group relentlessly, sweating you out and drying you up with the shine of its bright light. The only reason your sweat wasn't dripping off you was because it was quickly soaked up into the modest fabrics around your head.

You'd been travelling tirelessly for the last few days, dangerously too, if you might add. The boat nearly capsized multiple times just trying to make it to Morocco. As if the boat ride wasn't abhorrent enough with your seasickness....and morning sickness...

The constant smell of saltwater and the rocking of the ship had amplified the awful experience and you would spend the first hour in the bathroom regurgitating your insides every morning. It was not fun.

None of the pogues know you're pregnant. Although, Cleo was on to you. One pregnancy was more than enough for the group to worry about. You figured this was something you'd keep to yourself despite the fact the father is currently trekking with you through the hot sands.

The day was only getting hotter. You're thirsty, your lungs hurt and it felt like your own organs were weighing you down. You naturally began to fall behind the group, little by little until the gap was hard to ignore.

"Come on, Y/n. We're not far from the city, just a few more miles." Pope encouraged but it triggered a laboured breath. You're exhausted. A small smile crept on your lips when you noticed John B holding Sarah's hand the whole time, never letting her out of his sight.

For what feels like the eighth time, Rafe looks over his shoulder, more annoyed than ever. "Jeez, would you hurry it up?" You scoff, mustering up enough energy to kick up some sand at his legs. "Nice. Real mature, Y/n." His sarcasm rolls off his tongue and you ignore him as you walk past him.

Once you finally made it into the city, you all needed something to eat. Sarah wasn't feeling so great and neither were you. Babies are nothing but greedy entities consuming all the nutrients you need.

You leaned against the cool rock wall, watching the others run off to help themselves to a five-finger discount. With your eyes closed, you tried to distract yourself from the ache in your abdomen. Not sure if it was the baby or your hunger, possibly a mix of both.

Without even realizing it, you let a hand rest lightly over your stomach. It was still early, you weren't showing and you thank god.

"We're wasting time!" You hear Rafe yell, it doesn't even faze you. He's somewhere near you when he mumbles to himself, "Sitting around on the streets when we should be going after Groff, unbelievable."

What was supposed to be a quick glance your way turns into an elongated stare. His eyes raked over your posture, your shut eyes, brows crunched in distress. He slowly looks down at the placement of your hand.

"Y/n." He says, tugging you into a corner out of sight from the others and you swat him. He shockingly accepts the reprimands and backs off, taking a step back. "What do you want, Rafe?" Your arms cross, waiting for him to say something.

"Is it mine?" Your arms fall slowly, caught, but you deny it. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hardly able to take two steps away before he's barricading you in the corner with his body.

"Don't bullshit me, Y/n. The baby. Is it mine?" You chew on your lower lip, avoiding his chilling gaze. Apparently, that was enough confirmation. "How long have you known?" He takes on a defensive stance.

How the hell were you supposed to know the answer to that? The last week alone has blurred together in memories of rough waters and dry deserts.

All you knew was it happened sometime between the various times you and Rafe swore it would be the last time you fooled around. Unsure if it was the time on his yacht, in the back of his truck or one of the dozen times you somehow ended up in his bed when you swore you were only in figure eight for a 'walk'.

The group had no idea the two of you had been involved with each other aside from the occasionally tense argument, but anyone could admit the two of you can't seem to stay away from one another.

"I dunno, a month maybe?" He pressed both hands to his forehead, fingers spread wide, and slowly dragged them down, smearing the tension all the way to his chin.

"Let's go." His grip on your hand forces you to follow his long strides between the bustling kiosks until you land inside a Delhi. You're too stuck inside your own mind to process what was happening until you watched Rafe lift the bottom of his shirt, revealing a fanny pack with a considerable amount of money.

"Of course. Of course, you had money this whole time! Of course, you let the others go stealing--!" He hushes you as the owner flashes you a look of concern, "Listen, I'm not the one who told those pogues to go looting. I've got money for more important shit than their sad jewel hunt." He explains, paying for the items with a small nod of gratitude towards the man.

Turning to you, he placed a sandwich in one hand, and a cool bottle of water in the other. "This," He starts, his palm gently resting against your stomach. For the first time in a long time, his brows relax and his gaze softens when he looks at you. "This is more important."

[amirasainz]

Can you do reader is Landos sister and she’s his whole world but she’s away at school and she surprises lando at a race?

Of course!!! I hope you like this.

Send me some requests and enjoy reading

-XoXo

Little Norris

It was no secret within the paddock that Lando Norris’ favorite person in the entire world was his younger sister, YN. No matter the context—be it interviews, casual conversations, or even playful banter with other drivers—Lando always found a way to bring her up.

The paddock had grown accustomed to hearing him wistfully complain about how much he missed her, and how unfair it was that she was stuck at school, unable to attend the races.

Sadly, this wasn’t just an exaggerated tale; YN was enrolled in St. Paul’s Girls’ School, a prestigious all-girls school in London, where students could only visit their families during weekends and holidays.

However, YN’s academic commitments were so demanding that even those weekends were usually spent buried in books, only leaving the school for holiday visits. Lando’s ever-busy Formula 1 schedule certainly didn’t make things any easier.

So, it came as no surprise to Oscar when Lando began lamenting once again about how much he missed his baby sister.

“I just don’t get why she still has to go to school. It’s miles away, and she can’t even come home on the weekends,” Lando groaned, his expression a mix of frustration and longing. “The last time I saw her was in February, Oscar. FEBRUARY. Can you believe that?”

Oscar, who had heard variations of this complaint countless times before, only raised an eyebrow and responded with a calm, “Really?” knowing full well that Lando wasn’t done yet.

“And to top it off,” Lando continued, his voice rising in exasperation, “I tried calling her yesterday. And instead of picking up, she sent me to voicemail. Voicemail, Oscar! Why would she do that? Do you think she’s mad at me? Oh no, what if Mum finally told her I was the one who ate the last cupcake at Christmas? She’ll never forgive me!”

Oscar couldn’t help but chuckle at Lando’s melodramatic worry, but the constant whining had begun to wear on him. Finally, he placed both hands on Lando’s shoulders, spinning him around to face him directly.

“Lando, relax. I’m pretty sure your mum didn’t tell her about the cupcake incident,” Oscar said, trying to suppress a smile. “She’s probably just busy studying. You know how much school means to her.”

Before Lando could cut him off with another complaint, Oscar pressed on. “Look, we all know how much you adore YN, and you’d probably move mountains to keep her by your side. But you’ve got to understand—she enjoys school. She loves hanging out with her friends, and she’s passionate about her classes. She’s smart, Lando, and she adores you just as much as you adore her. So don’t go saying silly things like this. You know it would make her feel bad.”

Lando let out a deep sigh, the usual playful glint in his eyes dulled by a hint of sadness. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, his pout still intact as he was called away by one of the McLaren mechanics.

He gave Oscar a grateful, albeit slightly sheepish, smile before walking off towards the garage.

Oscar watched his teammate disappear into the distance, and once Lando was far enough away, he exhaled deeply, the weight of the secret he’d been holding onto starting to lift. No one had ever told him that lying—even for a good cause—could be so exhausting.

Because, of course, Oscar hadn’t been entirely honest. He was well aware of just how much Lando missed his sister. In fact, he’d spent weeks meticulously planning a surprise that would, if all went smoothly, bring YN right to Lando’s side.

After countless emails, flight arrangements, and some help from McLaren’s logistics team, Oscar had managed to fly 17-year-old YN out to Azerbaijan for the next Grand Prix.

The plan was to keep her arrival under wraps until after qualifying, ensuring Lando could focus on the race without the overwhelming distraction of knowing his favorite person was already there. The last thing anyone wanted was for him to lose focus during such a crucial part of the weekend.

While Lando busied himself with free practice sessions, YN was out exploring the local markets with some of the McLaren team’s family members. She was set to return to the paddock just as Q1 began, hidden away in the garage until the perfect moment.

Oscar had envisioned Lando’s face lighting up with pure joy, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the surprise.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

But things didn’t go quite as planned.

Qualifying that day turned out to be a disaster for Lando. From the very first lap, nothing seemed to go right. He struggled with the car’s balance, fought the understeer in nearly every corner, and couldn’t extract the pace he needed. Sector after sector, frustration built. The radio was filled with agitated comments, and by the end of Q1, he had been knocked out of qualifying altogether, missing the cutoff for Q2 by mere fractions of a second.

When he climbed out of the car, his body language said it all. Lando was livid—frustrated with the car, with himself, and with the result.

His helmet visor remained down longer than usual, as if he wanted to hide his disappointment from the world.

His walk back to the garage was slow, shoulders slumped, as mechanics and engineers exchanged worried glances but kept their distance. No one dared say a word.

Once inside the team’s motorhome, Lando stormed off to his driver’s room, eager for a moment alone. The air in the narrow hallway was thick with tension, and Oscar watched him go as his teammate finally ripped of his helmet, his heart sinking.

He knew Lando was hard on himself, but he also knew what awaited him on the other side of that door.

Lando opened the door to his driver’s room with a frustrated push, expecting to collapse onto the couch and stew in his disappointment. But as soon as he stepped inside, his breath caught in his throat. Standing in the middle of the room, a small, warm smile on her face, was YN.

“Surprise,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling as she took in her brother’s shocked expression.

For a split second, Lando didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at her, as if his brain needed a moment to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. Then, suddenly, it all hit him at once—the weeks of missing her, the frustration of the race weekend, the love he felt for his little sister—and his eyes immediately filled with tears.

“YN...” His voice cracked as he whispered her name.

Without another word, Lando rushed forward and pulled YN into a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder as if he were afraid she might vanish if he let go.

His arms wrapped around her protectively, squeezing her like a lifeline. YN, used to Lando’s emotional side, simply hugged him back, gently running a hand through his hair.

“I missed you so much,” Lando mumbled into her shoulder, his voice muffled but thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I missed you too, Lan,” YN whispered, a soft laugh escaping her. “Oscar helped organize it. He said you’ve been whining about me non-stop.”

Lando laughed, a watery chuckle escaping him as he finally pulled back to look at her, his hands still resting on her shoulders. His eyes were red and glassy, but his smile was the brightest it had been in weeks.

“You have no idea how much better this makes everything,” he said, his voice still shaky with emotion. “I had the worst qualifying. But... you're here now.”

YN smiled at him, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I’m sorry I missed qualifying, but I’m here for the race tomorrow. We’ll celebrate then, okay?”

Lando nodded, pulling her back into another tight hug, resting his chin on top of her head. “I don’t care about the race right now,” he muttered, his voice soft. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

For the next few minutes, they simply stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten.

Lando’s earlier frustrations seemed to evaporate, replaced by a warmth that only YN could bring him. He felt calmer, more grounded, like a weight had been lifted from his chest.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door, and Oscar poked his head in with a cheeky grin. “You okay in here? Thought I’d check in before I’m accused of kidnapping your sister.”

Lando turned around, still holding YN close, and flashed Oscar a grateful smile. “Mate, I don’t even know what to say. You’ve made my year.”

Oscar laughed, stepping into the room. “I figured you could use a pick-me-up. I was getting tired of the constant whining.”

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Suddenly, Lando’s mood shifted entirely, the disappointment from qualifying now a distant memory.

His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Right, we need to introduce you to everyone!” He glanced down at YN, who chuckled in response.

“I’ve already met some of them,” she teased, “but I’m sure they’ll appreciate your grand tour.”

“Trust me, it’s different when I introduce you,” Lando said proudly, his arm slung around her shoulders. He led her out of the room, a new energy in his step as if the earlier qualifying session had never even

With his little sister by his side, the world already looked a lot brighter than it did that morning.

[introvertedelf]

prey and predator with logan ( does not go with my other ask)

Omg yesss you got it! @pickuptruck01

Warnings: breeding kink, creampie, Logan being a lil rough, scent kink, I think Logan called the reader a s!ut once?

💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛

You were hiding from Logan on purpose in the closet. He didn’t know what was going on, or so you thought.

You were about to get down and dirty with him before you mischievously ran away, winking before you disappeared.

He was a smart man. And he knew how filthy you were. How much you loved the way he dominated you.

“You know I can smell you, don’t you darlin’?” You heard him call from outside the room you were in.

You didn’t make a peep. You knew he knew you were in that closet. But this was a game. And so he went on to the next room.

You relocated to the dining room, hiding beneath the table. The table cloth went down the sides, so no one could see you under there.

You heard his boots walking, getting closer.

“I guess Y/N’s not in here . . .”

He moved on again. You fought yourself to keep from laughing. This was so thrilling. You knew you couldn’t truly hide from him. Not when you were this wet. He could smell your arousal from a mile away.

You got up once the coast was clear, heading down a hallway. You were going into another room—

“Gotcha!” He growled, grabbing you from behind. “What’s this little game you’re playing, huh? You wanted me to hunt you down, slut?”

You smiled up at him, turning around and pressing lips against his.

“Nu-uh. You wanna play that game? I hunted you down. I got my prize. Now I get to do with it what I want. Get your ass in there,” he motioned to the vacant room. Charles would be awfully upset, but oh well. That would be Logan’s problem.

He threw you on the bed, ripping clothes off of you, literally. “All you had to do was ask, baby. You know I would have obliged.”

“It wouldn’t have been much fun if I told you beforehand,” you said, spreading your legs in invitation for him.

“I guess you’re right. Such a naughty girl, spreading your fucking legs for me like that. You want me between them?”

You whimpered when he knelt down, inhaling the scent of your cunt and growling. “Fuck, you’d never be able to hide from me like this.”

He spread open your lips with his hands, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit, giving it a suck once he got there. “I could eat you out all fucking day,” he said before fucking you with his tongue.

Your hips bucked into his face, but he swatted them down quickly. “Keep still.”

He began to ‘make out’ with your pussy, getting sloppy and inserting a couple fingers inside of you, twisting them around and making you squirm.

“What did I just fucking tell ya? Hold still. What are you trying to do?”

“It’s so much, Lo—I can’t—“

He chuckled, the vibrations going straight to your clit. “Cum then if you can’t take it. Let it go, sweetheart.”

And so you did, all over Logan’s face. Yeah, you squirted all over his face, and he lapped it all up effortlessly. “Fuck. Do that more often, m’kay?”

He turned you around, putting you on your hands and knees, hands grabbing at your ass and hips. “Gonna fuck you now nice and good. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Beg me for it.”

You looked at him, giving your best puppy dog eyes. “Loooo, please. You know I need you. I wanna feel full of your cock so fucking—“

You didn’t need to say anything else. He was inside of you in an instant, and he didn’t start of slow. He fucked you like he needed air to breathe, balls hitting you with a smack with every thrust.

“I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy up, you hear me?”

He reached around between your thighs, cupping your cunt with his big hand, whispering “mine” into your ear.

He began to rub your clit, making you squirm. “Nope. Don’t you dare try to run away from me. I know that little pussy is sensitive, baby. I fucking know. But give me one more, yeah? Give it to me.”

His dirty talk never failed to send electric currents straight to your core, and you came practically on his command, screaming his name.

He growled, somehow fucking you harder, chasing his high. “Dammit, I’m gonna fill that pussy up, you hear me? I’m gonna—ah fuck—“

You felt his cum spray your insides all at once. When Logan came, it was in full, heavy loads. You couldn’t ever hold all his cum inside of you, so it dropped down on the sheets beneath you.

He rested against your back, pressing kisses into your shoulder blades and rubbing you.

Finally he rolled over with you, his cock still plugging you up. “Next time you want me to hunt you down, just tell me, doll. I’ll hunt you down and breed you until I’m satisfied.”

[purinfelix]

you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto

summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900

a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏

Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.

You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.

It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.

You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.

All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.

"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.

"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.

"Hi," you say, almost shyly.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

"Good," you pause, "stressed."

He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"

"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"

"Nervous, of course."

"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.

"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."

You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."

This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."

You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."

Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.

"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.

"What do you mean?"

"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."

"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."

"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.

"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.

"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.

And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.

[gluion]

02:48 ➵ park gunwook

park gunwook x reader

you’re set on playing some more games of valorant, and gunwook is trying to change your mind.

general genre/warnings ➵ established relationship, fluff, suggestive, lots of kissing, hickey moment…, valorant mention

word count ➵ 800 words

a/n ➵ happy birthday @shegotthewoobies <3 ily and i hope you like this drabble :DD if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

gunwook wishes he isn’t the needy type. the one who can handle the distance. the one who can keep his hands to himself. the one who can fall asleep without you by his side. he hopes he can be the one to fulfill your every request, regardless of the hours or miles it may take.

he likes to think he’s made for you, but the reality is that he needs you.

before gunwook left for work, he promised you a few matches of valorant. his busy schedule didn’t give you two enough time in the day to spend with each other. all you had were hours made for sleep. although you understood gunwook’s schedule, only wanting him to rest before another day filled with work, he couldn’t share the same sentiments as you. all he wants is to be around you; intertwine fingers, and graze his lips over the expanse of your skin. despite your protests, it all falls on deaf ears as he cuts you off with a single kiss before taking his leave.

yet, work is spontaneous. he’ll never know if it’ll be a day where he waits for hours to pass by or to chase them.

gunwook tried to conceal his fatigue, peppering your face with kisses before telling you he’ll shower before he hops on the game. despite your worried eyes, he leads you to your chair before making his way to the washroom.

although he was tired from today’s work, he enjoyed the few matches he got to play. regardless of taerae’s trashtalk, matthew’s missed shots, and taerae’s partner’s whines, his stress levels subsided—all thanks to you. still, he couldn’t fight off the exhaustion.

“hey, i think i’m done for today,” gunwook says, earning a series of groans.

“no! we can’t end here. i mean, we can’t end on a loss!” regardless of taerae’s attempt to make him stay, he already closed the game. 

“bye guys.” he doesn’t wait for another word to leave his friends before he drops the discord call. as he looks over to his right, he sees your screen is on the lobby. he stands up from his seat, expecting you to take your leave until you pull out your phone. 

“hey, let him go to sleep. i’m down to play some unrated. but if you guys find someone else to fill, i’m also up for more ranked matches.”

gunwook can’t help but pout. he should’ve known that you would play a few more games. after all, you’d always try to find time in the day to play. yet, he wishes you could read the words in between his farewell—hey, let’s go to sleep.

a hum leaves you. “okay, let me try to ask my friend if they want to play.”

for a moment, gunwook considers going to bed, leaving you one kiss before you can continue playing. this is your time to destress. but his feet take him to where you are and his hand quickly reaches for your mouse so that he can mute your microphone.

you move your headphones to the side. “hey, what are you—”

his arms find their spot around your waist. “baby,” his whine has you holding your breath, “can’t you play some more games tomorrow? i missed you.”

“gunwook,” a shy giggle leaves your lips, “i’ll just play one or two more games. i’m pretty sure matthew and taerae are trying to find someone to fill.”

then, he nestles his face into your neck. while his nose grazes your skin, you let out a quiet exhale. but the moment you feel his lips, your eyes shut close. out of instinct. out of comfort. out of desire.

“c’mon, i’m sure they’ll understand.” his lips continue to cover every inch of your neck as his hands sneak under your shirt, fingers drawing shapes on your hips. gunwook’s persuasion is hard to ignore.

feigning ignorance, you say, “but i won’t get to play tomorrow. just one game.”

he musters a sigh and you think you won the battle, until his lips latch onto your neck. blunt teeth scratch against your skin as his tongue darts out, sucking in the spot. a soft moan leaves you as you throw your head back.

taerae’s shouts leak out of your headphones but you have no interest in hearing what he has to say.

gunwook’s lips leave you and you try to steady your breathing. you hate his effect on you. “c’mon, let’s go to bed.”

you need a few seconds before you swallow your shame. “to sleep?”

he giggles before he pulls back, allowing you to meet his gaze. “depends if you’ll quit valorant now or later.” and when you spot the smirk that rests on his lips, you don’t think twice about disconnecting from the call without saying goodbye.

taglist: @kflixnet @blankjournal

[pressureplus]

I actually have this request in my head for a while now... but I'm not sure if you be up to do it so thank to let me know if you will do it or not. Fem! Reader who is happily married and live together with Sebastian (when he still human). Until, Sebastian was arrested and sentence to dead. Reader found no long after his dead that she was pregnant. Years later, Sebastian manage to escape Hadal Blacksite probably very injured in the process. He was soon spotted by the kid that look similar to his human self (the kid probably be now close to be a teenager now), as the kid call up their mother. Sebastian was shocked to see his wife come to view.

I'm looking 👀

Love this dramatic shit, I'm SO here for it!

I'm going to be referring to your son as S/N, so y'all can name your boy yourselves! (I'm real interested in the stuff you might choose, so if you wanna put them in the replies, I'd love to see your baby names!)

Smaller Hands

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader

Au: [Unnamed]

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy, an Absent Father, injury, and Imprisonment

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had been running a very long time before he got to where he was now.

Escaping the Blacksite was only the beginning of his long, long journey home. He had wrestled himself from the depths of the deep ocean and fought his way all the way up to the light far, far above him.

Breaking through the surface of the water had provided him with a hope he never thought he'd see truly grow into something he could really hold. Sunlight and open air and a horizon that stretched endlessly in every direction... Sebastian hadn't known freedom in over 10 years, but there it was.

The way the natural light caught the glint of his wedding ring had him already tearing through the water with a grin, energy back in his tired body. It certainly wasn't his original ring, no, that one wouldn't fit on his new, much larger hand anymore, but the replacement that he got so he could wear a ring on his hand and not just as a pendant was enough of a visual reminder of his love, sending him treading the water the way this body was made to do. He had to get to his wife.

He had to see his Y/N again. That's always what his efforts were for.

It was days before he even reached a beach, and weeks of dragging himself through the shadows and the alleyways, keeping himself out of sight. He would squint at road maps and try to figure out how he was going to get himself home, not very well able to get on the public transport or drive himself there with a body like this. He had to be more than a little creative with how he was going to cross the countless miles between his lover and himself if he wanted to make it there at all. He'd spend his seemingly endless days hopping trains and swimming rivers just to close the distance faster, like it may wash away the last decade he's had to go without her.

Sebastian could only hope she waited for him, though those chances were next to none. She had been there the day he was 'executed', watching him get taken back to the chair that was supposed to put his story to its end. She has every right and reason to think he died that day, and he could never be angry or upset if she decided she still needed to be held the way his other hands used to hold her... Would these hands even fit her anymore? They'd outgrown his first ring... Would they be too big to hold hers anymore? The painful thought was a reoccurring one, and it plagued every dream he had in the moments he would manage to rest.

He's nearing his old cottage now, beaten and scarred from the long trip home, more than a little bit tired and definitely hungry. He's barely going to make it if he manages to get to the doorstep at all, but more thankful than ever he'd made his home with her outside of the city and out into the woods so he might have a moment to his thoughts. He could very well find her with another man, or he could find a completely new family, or even find nothing but flowers and trees- The life that he made with her could be all but ashes on a breeze that swept this place years ago. She could be a memory and this could all be for nothing just as easily as anything else. He wouldn't even have a right to be angry... He wouldn't even feel a right to cry if she's decided to move on.

"SNAKE MAN! SNAKE MAN!!!"

He's shaken from his pondering by an unfamiliar voice, a starry eyed child fumbling out of the bushes like a little animal.

He nearly panics and flees before the brave, feral little boy reaches out for his hand and looks up at him like something right out of a story book- Which, he supposed may be fair given the way that he looks now.

"Are you a forest monster!? Do you grant wishes and eat people and stuff?!" It's clear the boy doesn't know fear, young and small still, with new eyes... But familiar ones.

Sebastian's heart drops into his stomach when he begins to recognize the thick, dark hair and deep brown eyes. This boy is the spitting image of the way he looked when he was around 10 or 11... It's like he's been pulled right from Sebastian's old childhood photos.

Too dumbfounded to speak, Sebastian stands there, every muscle in his body tense while his eyes flick around the boy's face trying to figure out how this could be.

"S/N! What are you doing talking to strangers, you were supposed to be at least playing in the yard and not the woods before the sun started setting." Y/N rounds the trees with a stubborn look on her face and immediately freezes when her gaze meets Sebastian's.

The air is knocked out of the both of them, leaving them only able to stare, and he notes the way she's remained nearly the same as the day that he was forced to leave her behind. Like a flower that never wilts, she stands as beautiful and as amazing as she was when he had first met her. Frozen with an expression he can't place, she makes no motion to do anything at all. The larger man acts first at the realization she must be frightened of him, going to put his two unheld hands up and open his mouth to explain himself-

"You said not to talk to strangers, this is CLEARLY a forest monster." Little S/N beats both of them to the punch and confirms to Sebastian all at once that his attitude is as strong in his blood as that unruly dark hair is.

"Heed your mother, would you? I could very well eat you." Sebastian ushers the child forward with a playful threat, the boy in reference pouting and looking back up at him.

"Come on, I'm only out a little bit late! It's not dark yet! Monsters only eat people in the dark." The boy argues, unfamiliar with the idea of real danger, it seems, but certain of himself the way only children really can be.

"Sebastian I can't believe it... Is it you? Am I losing my mind?" Putting the scolding and corrections on her son's statements off for a better time, Y/N looks up at the mutated form of her lover, hoping she might be right. When Y/N speaks, it's soft and uncertain, a hand going to rest on her child's shoulder so as not to lose him while she's distracted.

"You recognize me?" His heart practically jumps into his throat and he struggles to cope with how quickly she's guessed it was him.

"If not for the way one soul knows another, then for your voice and... Our ring." Unafraid just as well, she walks right up to the towering creature and brings her hand up to the necklace it's strung onto around his neck.

"Am I too late?" Sebastian asks, still scared.

"You're late, but never too much. You had better come home now though." She gets firm near the end and he laughs, melting.

"Awe that's no fair! I'm in trouble for being a few minutes late and he gets to be gone forever!" The boy whines and Y/N seems to laugh when she ruffles his hair.

"You can be out of trouble because it's a special day. Now, let's go home and get you to bed." Y/N's eyes stray back up to her husband, the fondness that was there in those beautiful eyes he fell in love with was something that had grown blurry and hard to recall until now. The way her gaze rested on him so softly brought him back like he'd never left in the first place.

"I think I have some things to talk about with your monster, here." She smiles at him and goes to slide her hand into his, the cold feeling against his palm of her own ring -the matching one to his from the promise that they'd made at that altar a long time ago- made him feel warm again, and made him feel alive.

"Yes, I've got a lot of things I've been waiting to tell her for these years we've spent apart."

[ramhaiba]

𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

SNEAK PEEK

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT a/n: this fic is a lot darker than normal of my work contains: noncon sexual themes, manhandling, breaking up, biting, oral (f receiving), baby trapping, modern au

The truth is, you should have broken up with Satoru Gojo a long time ago. Two years ago, the thought of even considering taking a break from Satoru would have sent you into a coma. Why wouldn’t you want to be known as ‘Satoru's girl?’ Being with a guy like him would cause no one to dare look at you in the wrong way. 

Besides, he buys you things that cost more than your rent, and will refuse if you dare to give it back to him because you ‘don’t need such expensive things.’ 

So what exactly is wrong with dating Satoru?

Obsession. 

“You’ve been spending so much time with your friends...sometimes I think you forget who your boyfriend is”

“Jealous? Me? Baby, it’s only because I care about you”

“You know I don’t like it when you’re away, it hurts me. Do you want to hurt me, Y/n?”

“You look great in that dress. But I feel like I should be the only person to see you in it. Why don’t you go change so you don’t embarrass me” 

And the list goes on and on...and on…

If it wasn’t his words that would send you to this point, his constant touching, rubbing, groping, and kissing in public just to scare any guy in your five-mile radius away was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. 

The final straw is when you heard furious knocking on your door, knocking so loud that you could have sworn that whoever was behind it would just kick it down, surprised that you could hear it with the storm outside. Unlucky for you, you were middle of a shower, not expecting to be bothered in the middle of the night. You were forced to wrap a towel around your torso, covering your chest to your upper thighs, and rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You slowly open the door for your boyfriend,  his chest heaving as the rain pours down on his white hair. 

“Satoru- wh-what’s wrong.” you stuttered, clenching the towel wrapped around your body.

“Bastard ” he muttered, stepping inside, letting his wet footprints stain your floors. 

“What? Satoru, why are you even here- it’s late” you questioned, in disbelief. 

“Tell me-tell me that he didn’t fuck you, Y/n. Please” Satoru begged, his hands gripping your shoulder as he forced you to the wall, blue eyes without a trace of sanity.

“Wh-what the fuck are you talking about “ you yelped, unaware of what put your boyfriend into such a manic episode.  

“Is he still in the house? Huh? He is right?” Satoru started laughing, his head leaning into the crook of your neck, 

God- at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he bit your neck off.

“Satoru, you’re starting to scare me. Please just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you” you responded, trying to caress his face, only for him to pin your hands above your head. 

“Nanami, you’re fucking him, right? Suguru saw bring you to your house. Holding hands or some shit. Looking too friendly” Satoru hissed, just the thought of you being touched by hands that didn’t belong to him sent waves of fury into him. 

You didn’t even question why Suguru was watching you when he had no reason to be in your area- 

Thinking back at it, you wondered if Satoru begged asked Suguru to watch you while he was too busy to do it himself. 

“Nanami only came over because I asked him to help fix my door” you answered. 

“Then what? You rode his dick as a reward?” 

“Satoru, I would never” you argued. 

“Then show me… Prove to me that you’d never betray me” he erupted, clicking his tongue 

“Please” he added.

That’s when Satoru stepped away from you, knowing what you have to do, your hands shakily let the white towel around your chest slip off, falling onto the floor, using your forearms to cover your breast and pelvis. You turned your head to the side, finding it unbearable to watch his degrading facial expression as he examined every inch of your body, tears of embarrassment threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

“What’s this,” Satoru asked, eyes hooded, his fingers prying your thighs apart, tracing over a faded bite mark. 

“It’s from you, remember” you answered, voice cracking. Suddenly, you felt Satoru’s hands pull your face towards his, blue eyes locking with yours, refusing to let you look away, “want to bet on it?” he questioned. 

You watched hopelessly as Satoru’s lips trailed down your chest to your inner thigh, his knees on the ground, stopping at the bite mark, his pupils dilating as he took a good look at it, before sinking his teeth right into it, causing you to yelp, tugging on his white hair, silently begging him to stop. And when he finally did, he pressed a wicked kiss on it, pulling back to analyze it, 

“I knew it”

He smiled as he looked up at you from between your legs, pressing his chin on your thigh, “It’s a perfect match on my teeth, I knew you’d never cheat on me baby” he smiled. His hands rubbed your waist as your tears fell from your eyes, heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline.

 Satoru didn’t mind you were crying, in fact, he thought you were always at your prettiest when crystal-clear salty tears dripped down your heated cheeks, eyelashes damp. 

Full version

[timewillpasssoon]

hiii can you write a joost x female reader angst? they argue, he yells/says some mean stuff but it ends in fluff? 🫶

HOW COULD YOU?

pairing . Joost Klein x fem!reader

content . angst, the dutch in this is from google translate so if its bad lmk, mentions of yelling, insults, stress, alcohol, eurovision disqualification, fluff at the end

summary . when joost urges you to leave the house on a cold night, he starts to regret not opening up to you in the first place.

word count . 1.2k words , 6.5k characters

author's note . quick question, are y'all interested in nsfw? just wondering, if so send some ask.

You and Joost stood in the middle of the living room, tension crackling in the air, geting thicker and thicker as time passes by. His words cut through you like a knife, each one sharper than the last. For the past hour you've been trying to get Joost to eat and open up.. He would turn away and say he's not hungry. He'll say he's not hurting. He lies through his teeth, he was hungry and in pain, desperate need of help. So why doesn't he want it You? You tried to get him to open up to you, but you just couldn't. Everytime an attempt was made, he would slightly raise his voice.

Then finally, he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. Your eyes welled up with tears as you tried to hold back your own anger. "I'm your girlfriend, liefde! I'm here when you need someone to lean on!" You wanted to scream it out, yet it came out as a whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. He scoffed, his anger still beneath the surface.

"Well I don't need you! I am perfectly fine, there is nothing we need to talk about!"

"Can you atleast eat!?"

"For crying out loud I'm not hungry! Just stop being such a bitch."

The argument escalated, each word a dagger aimed at your heart. Joost's voice echoed off the walls, the last word hanging on your brain.

"You just don't get it, do you?" You looked at him in the eyes, rage and empathy were the only two things you could feel. "You clearly are in pain because of the disqualification! Just talk to me- we've been dating for 2 years, for crying out loud! Yet you still can't tell me your problems? Wat een man ben jij." (What a man you are.)

"You can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not!" Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to find what words to say.

"I thought we could work through this together." You uttered out, your voice trembling. Joost shook his head. "I don't know if we can," he admitted. He looked down, slowly then turning to the front door. "You should go."

You shake your head, words can't come out your mouth. Your tongue is tied together and you don't know if you can untie it. "Joost- please."

"I said get out. Ik wil je niet zien." (I don't want to see you.)

Your heart was throbbing so fast it felt louder than him,.Joost is staring at the front door then turns to you, red puffy eyes with baby tears coming out from both eyes. His blonde hair was a mess. It was covering most of his eyes but you can still see the pain in them.

"Prima." (Fine.) You take big steps yet they feel like your still miles away from your destination. You go to open the front door, "I hope you come to your senses."

Those were the last words he heard from you. Before you walked out. It's been two hours since you left his house...

and frankly, he's scared. He kicked you out in the middle of the night. It was eight pm when he demanded you to leave and with each second goes by, its past ten.

He calls you, he leaves voicemails, texts messages.

Still nothing. Checked social media and there was still nada.

God he felt awful, the worst boyfriend in the world. All of this happened because he didn't want to cry in your arms. He really did want to let loose, reveal that everything is not okay.

Yet he couldn't.

He didn't want to burden you with his problems anymore. Joost felt like he had too much baggage no one wanted to hear. He thought that everyone wants his happy-go-lucky side. You jusy wanted his true self. The Joost that is willing to tell you his feelings.

He decided to call one of your friends that happened to live by the neighborhood.

"Hello?"

"Is reader with you?"

The other line was quite crispy, Joost can hear a tv in the background, sounded like laughter in the back, maybe a comedy.

"No, why? Is everything alright?"

Joost sighed, fidgeting with a stand of hair. "No, me and her got into a fight and I made her leave- I haven't heard from her!" He exclaimed.

"Woah, woah, deep breaths." The friend on the line said, "Don't you have her location? Check if she's near the area, I'll stay on the line while you do that."

Joost quickly checked his phone to see if you turned off your location. You didn't, you forgot to. "She's in the nearest bar!" The friend hummed. "Go to her, she only drinks when she's stressed the hell out."

"Thank you so much," Joost happened to be crying again, quickly grabbing his keys and jacket. "No problem, get get her." The friend hung up on him as he raced to your location, being around eight minutes away if he ran the whole way.

He bolted as fast as he could, petrified about your safety. Where if you're black out drunk or not.

Pacing to the bar, precious seconds going by, he finally made it. it was one of the least popular bars near so there wasn't any hassle to get in. As he walked inside, he saw a women with the same color hair as you. Your head down on the table with around two shot glasses, there was three more earlier, the bartender just took them.

He sped-walked towards you, careful and still just incase you were still mad at him. He tapped you on your shoulder, but you didn't raise your head up.

"Ik heb een vriendje." (I have a boyfriend.) Was all you said. "I know." Joost calmly answered, his accent triggered you to lift your head up.

"Joost?" He nodded as he sat down next to you, his hand reaching for yours. You didn't push away his hand, as much as you wanted to, you knew he was in pain.

"Why are you here?" You softly say. You'll like to say you ignored him but you couldn't. You were certainly mad at him, but he had his reasons of sheltering himself away. So you listened instead of scolding.

"Reader, I'm so sorry- I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I feel like I just have too much going on for you to care." You felt destroyed at the thought of Joost think you don't care for him. Joost was rubbing circles on your palms.

He continued, "Can we go home, I would rather we talk there."

You smile at the chance of him opening up. You immediately say yes, standing up to leave. All your drinks were already paid for.

As the quiet, yet comfortable, walk back home he held you tight. Clinging onto your left arm for dear life. He still felt guilty for leaving you.

All alone in the streets. You told him it wasn't a big deal, that you could protect yourself. Yet the feeling guilt was still there, on his tongue. The taste was horrid.

Joost unlocked the door, letting you step inside first before closing the door behind him. That's where you engulfed him in a huge hug. Tears coming back for the fourth time.

That night ended with a deep conversation, with cuddles on the couch along with some ice cream half way eaten.

"I appreciate you having the courage to tell me all this."

You muttered your sentence out, about to knock out cold, your body longed for sleep but you kept awake for a bit while.

"I should thank you."

He smiled, tugging you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath breezing though the right side of your neck.

The warmth of each other's bodies made you two warm. You still weren't ready to give up on him.

You'll never give up on him.

LETSGOO FINISHED THIS IN 3 HOURS!! part 2 of let me think... is in the works don't worry, i have two other requests on the way as well.

im okay with nsfw requests, even if its a bit spicy or all the way. check out my other account!!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Nine.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Ten. The Playlist. Series Masterlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky are holding it together. Until you aren’t.

Pairing - DadsBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - cursing. hospital setting. talk of illness/health issues. panic attack.

Word Count - 3k

Authors Note - I probably sound like a broken record, but… thank you all so much for your patience and support. couldn’t do it without you. can you even believe that next chapter will be chapter ten? thanks for sticking with me. sorry for this rollercoaster of a chapter. there is still more to come - don’t worry!! <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You don’t remember the journey.

One minute, Bucky’s grabbing your hand and bundling you into the passenger seat of his truck, buckling you in as your hands shake. The next, he’s undoing your seatbelt, telling you that you’ve arrived as he puts the car in park. You don’t recall speeding across town and into the city. You can’t even think back to the roads flying past in a blur as your thoughts run at a hundred miles an hour.

The only thing that’s on your mind is your Dad.

You and Buck take the stairs two at a time, hands clasped together tightly. When you reach the reception desk, you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Your words have dried up, dissolved and evaporated into thin air. Your soulmate saves you, once again.

“We’re here to see a family member in cardiology. Can you tell us where to go, please?”

The receptionist looks up at you both, before nodding her head in the right direction.

“Follow that hallway, then through the double doors and up the stairs. Go left, and you’ll see the sign.”

You’re on autopilot, heading straight towards the doors. Bucky follows you quickly, throwing a chaste but genuine thanks to the lady behind the desk as he goes.

“Baby,” he calls after you when you reach the top. “Baby, hold on.”

You spin around, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Your bottom lip quivers as he tucks some hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your cheek gently.

“Take a breath, please. You’re gonna faint before you get there.”

You inhale as deeply as possible, your lungs only filling to half capacity. You grab onto his hand for a second, squeezing as hard as you can.

“Okay. Breath done. Let’s go.”

You take off down the hallway, leaving Bucky to jog after you. Finding the big blue sign that reads Cardiology, you storm through the doors, looking around frantically. You spot Room 4 and head straight into it.

The room is all white, clinical and clean. There’s sunshine beaming through the window, but it doesn’t seem to warm the space. It’s cold, almost ominous. It makes it hard to breathe.

The bed is empty, crisp sheets tucked tightly into the plastic sides. Your Mom is sat in the chair beside it. She looks small, swallowed by the blue material.

“Mama.”

You don’t recognise your own voice. It’s choked and strangled, foreign to your ears.

She practically jumps up, striding across the room to wrap you in her arms. Inhaling the familiar scent of home, you hug her back as tightly as you can.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in surgery.”

You breathe a half sigh of relief. You’d feared the worst, when you’d walked in and seen the empty bed.

“What happened?”

Bucky’s been leaning against the door frame, watching you both carefully but giving you space. The tone of his voice is calm, collected. He’s holding it together for you.

“I honestly couldn’t understand it all. They were telling me so much information so fast.”

She sits down in the chair while you and Bucky perch on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“It was supposed to just be an appointment, wasn’t it?”

She nods.

“They did the EKG and weren’t happy with the results, so the nurse put us in this room while she waited for the Doctor. Then the Doctor burst in, talking about blockages and bypasses and emergency surgery.”

Her hands are trembling, neatly manicured nails being picked at repeatedly. Bucky reaches over and links his fingers with hers, all grounded and reassuring.

“They put him in a gown,” she continues, “and all of a sudden they were wheeling him away. I can’t even remember what I said, or if I said goodbye or I love you.”

“Mama, you will have said I love you. I promise you that.”

“She’s right, Lori. You will have said exactly the right thing. You always do.”

She squeezes his hand gratefully, taking a deep breath.

“The Doctor said he had a blockage, and they were worried about blood clotting. That’s why they rushed him in. The nurse said she’d update me when she knew anything, but I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. You know what Jack’s like,” Bucky laughs. “He’s the toughest guy I know.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, freshen up a little. Call me if a nurse comes in, won’t you?”

You nod, clasping her hand tightly for a moment.

“Promise, Mama.”

She stands up carefully, inhaling before leaving the room. Your posture instantly crumbles, faked bravado leaving you as soon as she’s out of view.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper.

Bucky hears it clear as day.

He slides closer to you, wrapping both arms around your frame. Pressing a kiss into your hair, he runs his fingertips up and down your spine gently.

“I’ve got you, baby. You’re allowed to be scared. But everything is going to be okay. I know it will be.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble into the cotton of his shirt. “It should, but it doesn’t. That scares me, too.”

Bucky traces the features of your face gently with his thumb, his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours. He dances his finger over the slope of your nose, your cheekbones, the curve of your lips. His skin is warm and calloused against yours, polar opposite to how cold you feel.

“I’m your soulmate,” he murmurs, “but I’m not a miracle worker. Fuck, I wish I was. There are gonna be some things that I can’t fix for you, no matter how badly I want to. We just have to ride them out together, sweet girl.”

You nod, leaning in to rest your head against his pounding heart.

It still beats to the rhythm of your name. Even after all this time.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You don’t jump apart when your Mom walks back in.

Upon first glance, the picture is simple - a girl being comforted by her Dads best friend. A hug. Reassuring words.

If you look closer, the image becomes a little more complicated - her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. His hand cradling the back of her head. Familiar lips softly pressed to her temple.

Any other time, someone might question the sheer intimacy of the moment. But not now.

Now, all focus is drawn to the nurse in sky blue scrubs that appears in the doorway.

“You’re all Jack’s family?”

You all spin to face her, nodding frantically.

“Thought so. He’s out of surgery, and he’ll be brought up here shortly.”

“Is he alright?” your Mom asks, standing up. You can physically see the tension rising in her body.

“He’s doing okay. The Doctor is going to come up and talk to you a little about some… complications. But he’s okay.”

The reassurance at the end of the sentence doesn’t make any of you feel any better. You’re stuck on the word complications.

As if on cue, your Dad is wheeled in, all laid up cosy in crisp white sheets. He has oxygen tucked up under his nose, tubes and wires attached to his hands. He looks fragile, which is a state you’ve never seen him in before. Usually, he’s larger than life, braver than a bear, with a booming laugh that can make anyone smile. In this current moment, he looks like a little boy again, put to bed softly by his mother on a school night.

They get him situated as the Doctor approaches the three of you, huddled by the chair to stay out of the way.

“The surgery went well. The blockage has been fixed, and hopefully shouldn’t reoccur. We’ll put him on medication for the future, blood thinners most likely, to prevent anything further.”

Your Mom nods, lips pressed together.

“The nurse said there was complications?”

Bucky’s voice is low and careful, the timbre of it reverberating next to you.

“We ran into some trouble with the anaesthetic. We struggled to wake him for quite some time, and then his blood pressure completely bottomed out. We managed to get him steady again, but it was a little touch and go for a minute.”

Your Mom sits down slowly, holding onto the arms of the chair with taut knuckles.

“Your husband is going to be just fine, ma’am. We’ll manage any future worries with meds. Some people just don’t respond well to anaesthesia, especially if they’ve never had it before. We’ll monitor him over the next few days, keep him under observation just in case. But it looks positive. I assure you.”

She inhales, leaning back and exhaling the breath.

“He’ll probably just sleep it off for the rest of today, so don’t worry if he’s barely conscious. His body has been through a trauma, and he needs some time to recover.”

You all nod, Bucky’s hand reaching out to squeeze yours momentarily. He subtly presses a kiss into the nape of your neck, as if to melt the tension away.

You all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“If you need anything, there are always nurses walking around on this floor. They’ll call me if necessary.”

She smiles before leaving, picking up her clipboard as she goes.

“Thanks, Doctor!” Bucky calls after her, making both you and your Mom laugh softly.

The three of you remain still for a while, scared to make any sudden moves. Eventually, Bucky stretches his legs.

“I’m gonna grab some coffees. The usuals?”

You both nod at him.

“Be right back. Call me if you need anything.”

You can’t take your eyes off him as he leaves. You miss his warmth instantly.

“He’s a good guy,” your Mom whispers to you from the chair, where you’re perched on the armrest. She’s watching him go too.

You hum in agreement.

“He looks out for you.”

You hum in agreement once again, albeit this time a little quieter.

“You guys are close, these days.”

You inhale calmly.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “He’s got my back.”

“He likes you a lot.”

Before she can continue, your Dads eyes flutter open slowly. You both jump up, standing on either side of his bed.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Dad.”

He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh lighting.

“How you feeling, tough guy?”

He smiles softly, and the relief that fills your body is so overwhelming, you feel as if your legs might give out. You hold onto the metal bars of the bed for support, praying you stay upright.

He groans a little, throat hoarse.

“Water?”

Your Mom puts the straw in his mouth, nodding in approval as he sips.

“I’m good,” he croaks. “Got my girls with me.”

You both laugh.

“Jack, as much as I’d love to be your girl…”

Bucky is stood against the doorframe, keeping a careful distance from the family moment. Your Dad chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re the prettiest one, Buck,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster. You all can’t help but laugh even more.

“How you feeling, honey?”

“Fine. Tired, though.”

“The Doctor said you’d most likely just sleep it off all day. Go back to sleep, if you want to. We’re right here.”

He nods, closing his eyes instantly. Your Mom settles back in the chair as Bucky hands her a coffee. He goes to give you yours, but you place it down on the side table.

“I’m gonna get some air. Be back in a minute.”

He gives you a look that says are you sure?, but you’re already out the door, not glancing back.

“She doesn’t like hospitals.”

Bucky nods in recognition, but can’t focus on anything except the severe levels of rising anxiety in his chest.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You can’t find your way out, and it’s making you panic more.

You’re throwing doors open, running down sets of stairs. Eventually, you see an exit, and barge through it with no regard for your surroundings. You’re at the front of the hospital, somehow making it to the main entrance.

Your lungs feel like they’re burning, white hot heat filling them with each weak inhale that you manage. The world is turning, suddenly, the entire axis of the Earth shifting on its head. Gasping, you grab onto a railing, desperate to just take a full breath and calm down.

The more you try to breathe, the worse things seem to get. It feels like the non existent walls are closing in, claustrophobia settling into your weary bones. Your legs buckle as your surroundings spin.

You don’t even register the impact of your knees hitting the ground, nor feel the pain that follows. You’re only minutely aware that you’re even on the floor because you can feel the warm tarmac underneath your palms.

Suddenly, there are two strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you into a solid chest. You relax against it, tired of fighting.

“It’s me, baby. Shit, it’s me.”

The voice is panicked, almost frantic in the way it hits your ears. There’s a hand stroking over your hair, strumming over your cheekbone, squeezing your shoulder. You wonder for a second if anyone has ever died from something like this. You feel as if you’re pretty close.

“You’ve got to start slowing your breathing, honey. Can you hear me?”

You think you nod. You assume you do, because the voice continues.

“Put your hand on my heart,” he says as he does it for you. “Just like that. Can you feel the beat of it, underneath your palm? It sounds like a drum, right? One two, one two, one two. Can you focus on it?”

You try to hone into the sound. You think you might be able to distantly feel it, where your hand meets his shirt.

“How about if we create a pattern together? And we’ll both follow it? Like this.”

The voice tilts your chin upwards, so you’re looking into his eyes.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Breathe when I breathe, okay? In, and out,” he inhales and exhales. “In, and out. There we go, atta girl. In, and out. You got it.”

You stay collapsed on the sidewalk for what feels like hours, breathing when he tells you to. You focus your vision on his ocean blue irises, finding your home in them. Eventually, you feel like you’re somewhat filling your lungs, and the world stops spinning.

“There she is.”

You drop your head onto his chest, warm tears soaking into the material of his shirt.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You finally let yourself relax, sagging against his body as he holds you close.

“Fuck, you scared me. Are you hurt?”

You don’t even know the answer to that question yourself.

Bucky starts checking you over, looking for any visible injuries. When he reaches your knees, he inhales sharply.

“Shit, baby. We’ll have to get some antiseptic on these grazes of yours. You’ll have some badass bruises tomorrow, tough girl.”

You realise, slowly, where you are. You’re on the sidewalk outside the hospital, sat on the floor, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. You try to stand up too quickly, and wobble backwards.

“Woah, easy. There we go. Come sit over here with me.”

There’s a wooden bench not far from the entrance, tucked in between a hedge and a flowerbed. You take a seat, surveying the bloody mess of your knees as you do.

“They look worse than they are, baby. Promise. We’ll fix them when we go back upstairs.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you and tugs you into his side.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”

“Don’t like hospitals,” you whisper. “Never have.”

“Is there… any particular reason? Or is it just one of those things?”

“Spent a lot of time here when I was younger,” you admit quietly. “I was kind of a sick kid. Had my own set of issues. Lots of appointments and stuff.”

Bucky nods against the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“You never mentioned anything.”

“Didn’t think it was relevant.”

He hums.

“I’m sorry,” you confess. “For causing a scene. Being dramatic.”

“Honey,” he scolds. “You’re not dramatic. We’ve all got our fears, the things that make us tick. I promise you, no one thinks you’re dramatic. You feel how you feel, and that’s okay.”

You sigh in defeat, pulling your knees up under your chin.

“I think I was holding it together until I saw he was okay. When I knew he was fine, I just… crumbled.”

“That’s a perfect reflection of your character, you know. Keeping it together for everyone else.”

You chuckle dryly.

“Maybe. I suppose.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you sit outside for a while longer, breathing in the fresh air and revelling in each others embrace.

“We should probably go back up. They’re going to wonder where we are.”

You go to stand up, but Bucky pulls you back down onto the bench.

“Honey, wait. There’s something we need to… talk about, before we go.”

You turn to face him, and instantly tense up. He looks worried.

“Buck, what is it?”

“I… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Or how we’re meant to handle this. I really, really don’t know what the best angle is here.”

“You’re scaring me,” you say as you cradle his face. His scruff tickles your palm, and any other time, you both would have laughed.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[endlessthxxghts]

just thinking thoughts of Daddy Dom!Joel...i don't know where this came from guys... all i know is that I had to get it out before I fucking combust

nsfw drabble under the cut, minors do not interact! [745 words]

warnings/tags: overstimulation, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, Dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink (everything they do is agreed upon, consent is fucking sexy)

Fire. 

Your entire body is on fire when you finally begin to gain consciousness. 

It’s not a bad fire. It’s scorching, yes, but it’s all-consuming. Delightfully so. It’s dizzying yet numbing, it makes you buzz, and it’s- pulsing? 

Your eyes peel open, a pant caught in your throat. Your vision is still blurry, but your entire body is awake. Active. Alert. 

You’re laid out on your back, hips propped up in a way you normally wouldn’t do yourself. Your hips hurt; sharp but dull. As if something, someone, is holding you down. Another fiery pulse plows through your body. It’s becoming more consistent the more you wake, more addictive. 

Eyebrows furrowed, your warm fingers fly up to your eyes in an attempt to rub the fatigue away; it works. 

A moan rips from your throat as you finally see rather than feel the image before you. 

He’s in between your legs, hot and heavy. Face pulled into a concentrated scowl, eyes trained down. Sweat glides down his temples. He’s on his haunches, your hips pulled up flush against his own by the thick grip of his deft fingers. 

Sharp but dull. 

“Fuck-” he grunts. “Creamin’ for me even in your fuckin’ sleep, baby, dirty fuckin’ girl, hm?” 

His words ignite you even further, sending your body to the finish line you didn’t even know you were running towards. 

“Gonna give me another, sweet girl?” He rasps. It hasn’t registered for him that you’re awake yet. 

Another one? 

And then you feel it. The sensitivity. The pain. The throbbing of your sweet nerves, swollen and used. His fingers reach for it again, and you can’t help the scream you let out. 

How many times did you come?

His eyes snap up to yours then, the tiniest smirk curled up against his lip. “G’mornin’, beautiful,” he says lazily as his fingers slow down but never fully come to a halt. His hips never stop either. 

Tears start to pool in your eyes as you finally register just how much you actually slept through, how much he’s already pulled from you. 

“Daddy,” you gasp, your hands finding relief in the pillows underneath your head. 

“Yeah, baby?” His hand leaves your clit, gripping onto each side of your hips once more, standing up on his haunches to fuck into you harder. “Daddy feels so good, don’t he?”

Your back arches, creating an angle that sends you reeling, his thick tip smacking against that sweet spot within you – your release button, he calls it. The place only he’ll ever be able to reach. Every thrust forward at this angle stimulates your clit, forcing it to border against the edge of overstimulation each time. “So- mmgh- so g-good, daddy,” you blabber, unable to say much of anything really. 

His hand pushes down on your sternum, your body in chills at the feel of the now cool sweat laced in your bedsheets. He fucks you hard into the mattress – fucking into you once, twice, a rough third time that makes you scream and your cunt cry. 

Your entire body convulses in his touch as he continues moving through your orgasm, his mouth spewing expletives a mile a minute as he milks his cock inside of you. 

“Shit, baby, fuck- pussy’s fuckin’ drownin’ me.”

“My little fuckin’ play thing,” he grunts as he watches your pussy try and force him out with the force of your liquids, “mine to fuckin’ use whenever I want.”

“Yes- yes, daddy, yes, all yours, please-” you force out as you sob. It’s too much, yet painfully not enough. You want more. You need it.

He keeps going until he’s soft inside you. Your pussy filled, his cock spent, reluctantly he pulls out with a hiss. You whine brattily at the loss. 

He looks at you with a sternness that sends you clenching, his come leaking from your hole at the action. His middle finger catches the drip, pushing it back inside you. 

“Daddy needs a minute,” he tells you. 

You huff in response.

“Greedy fuckin’ thing, huh?”

“Only for you,” you remark, playful irritation laced in your tone. 

“Three orgasms ain’t enough for you?” 

“First two don’t count, I wasn’t awake.” Your eyebrow raises in a challenge. 

“Don’t count, hm?” He asks. He scoots himself back, giving himself enough space to lay between your thighs. “Then why don’t you count these next ones for me, yeah, honey?”

A shiver shoots up your spine. “O-okay, daddy,” you breathe.

nobody look at me aghjkjfghj 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

divider by me

[itsnathateasy]

armin being oblivious

word count: 1,2k warnings: angst author’s note: this had been in my head for so long time! (ps: i remember seeing the jeans/legs idea on tiktok but didn’t save the link, if you’ve also seen the vid lmk so i can include the reference!) ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

oblivious!armin breaks his own heart by never catching up to your hints. he tries his hardest to endure seeing you flirting with other people and to deal with your constant teasing him, because he really has no clue you’re head over heels for him

you once invited him over late at night for netflix and chill, but his response is “nothing good on netflix nowadays” followed by “besides it’s getting late, rain check for friday?” was this boy living under a rock or something?

oblivious!armin sees how you treat him nicely or even special in some occasions, like how you always text him goodmorning/goodnight or how you order his favourite pastry for him when you’re meeting for coffee, maybe even how you notice his shirt is buttoned the wrong way, so you unbutton it to do it right, to shy to meet each others gaze as you do so

however, but oblivious!armin justifies it all by how good friends you are and how you’ve been super close for such a long time, it’s only natural that you do special things for each other, right?

oblivious!armin once compliments your jeans while you’re both drunk at jean’s party, slurring how “your legs look so damn good in those jeans” and you playfully respond with “well, you should’ve seen me without them!”, giggling and laughing

needless to say armin’s face dropped to the floor, baby boy was so confused

“did i say something wrong armin? what happened? thought we were having fun?” you ran your hand on his shoulder, caressing him

“why would you cut off your legs, y/n, wtf? this is your final drink for the night!” he grabbed onto you hand, pulling you away from the crowd and heading outside. he later even checked you everywhere to make sure you’re not hurt and tried to and carry you home, but he was so drunk you both ended up on the floor.

“armin, in my humble opinion, it’s you who’s had too many drinks”

oblivious!armin is always going the extra mile for you, helping you with little things that you’d need done during the day, he’d send you reminders for your groceries or that doctor’s appointment you mentioned you couldn’t skip

oblivious!armin was being so overprotective, even though he’d never admit this true motives behind his actions to you. he keeps tabs on all the people who approach you at parties and makes sure to intervene if you seem uncomfortable, snaking his arm around your waist and kissing you on the temple because “jean is expecting us, y/n, we should go” as he pulls you away from whatever guy was being too pushy

“sorry about earlier, y/n, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but you looked like you needed a way out”

“you can’t really think i was flirting with that guy, right armin?”

“why wouldn’t i think that? he looks kinda cute… if only he weren’t being this pushy”

“armin, i’m gonna hold your hand as i say this, but i’d been eyeing YOU. the entire time”

“i know, and that’s why i came to the rescue!” he closed the distance between you by kissing your temple once again. “couldn’t leave my best friend in that awful situation any longer” he pulled back and smiled brightly at you

“are we really though? best friends?” you stared at him, trying to smile at him and play nonchalant, but failed miserably, your smile turning into a crooked frown.

“of course we are, y/n!” he pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight. “don’t question that”

that was the cherry on top of the cake for you. you’d finally had enough with how oblivious armin was being. you realised you’d have to give it to him plain and simple cause that boy wasn’t comprehending shit.

a few days later, you were on your way to brunch with armin, connie, jean and sasha, you were walking behind them with armin, sasha in between the two boys, trying to prevent them from punching each other over a joke.

you reach your hand to hold armin’s and wait for him to react. he doesn’t. he’s simply rubbing circles with him thumb on the outer side of your palm.

you felt your cheeks flush up as you side-eyed armin to see the reaction on his face, only to find him side-eyeing you. holding back a chuckle, you smile at each other, continuing your way to your brunch spot.

once you walk inside the store, you’re all spreading around, looking for the best spot to fit all five of you, and sasha notices you both holding hands when she turns around to ask “do you prefer by the window or by the-” her sentence cut short as realisation filled her eyes.

“i’ll go get the others to that table on the balcony! meet us soon, but not too soon in case… you know… want to be alone… or something...” she even had the nerve to wink at you!

you exchanged a meaningful look with armin, not yet addressing the little situation you had going on for yourselves, and walked behind sasha, over to the table she’d picked out.

the brunch date went smoothly, you had your sit next to armin, as per usual, and you were still being very accommodating for each other, which wasn’t uncommon either. sasha giggling at the pair of you was uncommon. she was being a real nightmare and making you both really awkward, but you didn’t say anything, you knew she meant no harm and was honestly excited about you.

you were so thankful the others never noticed how armin would rest his palm on your thigh, softly moving it up and down in a swift motion, or how you often placed your arm behind his back, moving yourself closer to him, because “your previous posture became painful”.

do i need to repeat that sasha behaved like a kid on a ferris wheel?

“you should really cut down on caffeinated drinks, sasha, you’re almost resembling that squirrel from “hoodwinked”, connie remarked, earning him a great laugh from the rest of you.

at the end of the date, armin and you split from the group as he offered to walk you back home (sasha asked you to “take care” and winked, connie and jean giving her some inquiring looks).

you reached your door sooner than you’d like, but before you could turn around to say anything, armin cupped your face and kissed you and god knows how long you’d been longing for that kiss, that turned deeper and warmer the more you kept your lips attached to each other.

you parted from the kiss after what felt like a sweet eternity, but was probably only a couple of minutes, both breathless, cheeks turning pink.

“today was rather… overwhelming, but do you maybe wanna meet tomorrow and… talk? about us, i mean?” he asked you nervously, fidgeting with his fingers.

“sure thing, armin! i’ll text you in the morning!” and with that, you said your goodbyes (it was "one more kiss, and one more, and one more, and one final kiss, pleeease, y/n!") and you walked upstairs to your apartment.

(I ALMOST DIED OF ANGST, I DIDN’T WRITE THIS POST, THIS POST WROTE ME)

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Wanna Taste The Crush

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: SMUT and alcohol consumption

Takes Place: July 2024

You walk out on the deck of your yacht, picking up a beer from the ice chest and heading towards your boyfriend. He’s laid out, taking in the sunshine. There are still droplets of water on his body, making your breath catch in your throat. The ridges of his abs gather your attention, making you think about the night before when you licked up his torso while jerking him off. A subtle blush settles in your cheeks at the thought, joined by a yearning pooling in your tiny bikini bottoms.

“Hey, hotshot,” you greet, standing over him.

He raises his eyebrows at your stance. A hand is on your hip and your legs look miles long. Mat loves your legs so much. Don’t even get him started on the way your lips are glossed to perfection.

“Hey, baby,” he hums and sends you a bright smile. His eyes are captivating with the way they practically glow.

He bites down on his bottom lip, ogling your body that’s donned in his favorite black bikini. Slowly you straddle his lap, claiming every single ounce of his attention that wasn’t already on you.

“Want a drink?” You offer him your bottle after taking a sip. Some of the beer trails down your chin, making Mat gulp back his desire.

He hesitates, but only because you let your hand trail up his chest. Your nails lightly scratch at his skin, igniting a spark in his groin. He accepts the drink and brings it to his lips, letting the cold liquid calm his senses.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out as if he’s been keeping the fact a secret. As if he doesn’t tell you that every second.

You grow flustered under his smoldering gaze, subtly grinding yourself on him as you adjust. He traces a finger down your sternum and chills prick at your skin.

“I love you,” you respond and lean down to connect your lips with his.

His large hands paw at your back, moving up and down to feel every notch in your spine. You nose at his jaw, letting your body melt into his at the familiar sensation of him tracing your tattoo.

“I want you,” he whispers, breath hot in your ear.

“You have me,” you respond and untie your bikini top. You let Mat take over the ties resting on your hips.

“You’re going to give me a taste, pretty girl?”

You simply nod your head in response.

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, yummy anticipation filling your body.

“You know I’m all yours,” you sigh out in bliss (you can already feel your orgasm building) and crawl up his upper body to straddle his face.

“Fuck, baby you’re already so wet,” Mat hums against the skin of your thighs. Your scent sends a rumble through his chest.

“That’s because the thought of you eating me out drives me insane.”

A small squeak leaves your lips as he blows cool air on your aching heat. He spreads your folds open, mouth watering at the sight of you dripping for him.

You card your fingers through his hair, guiding his eyes to yours. For a few seconds you exchange silent communication. It’s tender and reassuring.

“Love me,” you moan, body going rigid as his tongue connects with your clit.

The very tip circles your bud, making you buzz. Your thighs dare to clench around his head, but instead you lean back with your hands holding yourself up on his much stronger thighs.

“Oh my god, Maty!” He lets his tongue travel to your fluttering hole, teasing you until you can’t handle anymore.

The hockey player massages your bud until your soft moans fall repeatedly from your mouth. You try to focus on not letting yourself explode so quickly, but the way he caresses you with love and fervor makes you weak.

“You taste so good, baby,” he groans into you, sucking your clit into his mouth. With a jolt your body arches, pushing your pussy further into his face.

“Just like that,” you whimper as your body starts to vibrate with your impending release.

As he sucks on your swollen bud, he inserts two fingers inside of you, working you towards the edge. You can’t help but grind on his face, eager and greedy for his salacious mouth.

“That’s it. Ride my face, baby.” His sweet like honey voice echoes around you. You feel as if you’re surrounded by nothing but him.

“I’m going to cum,” you announce as you sit up and tighten your hands in his tendrils of curls.

His fingers curve into your g-spot, and your legs begin to quiver as he sucks your orgasm out of you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh my god,” you shriek, hands tugging at your hair as you resist the passion forcing your body backwards.

Mat stares up at you, eyes glued to the way your breasts sway with your heaving chest, or how your eyes have turned into whirlpools of lust.

“I will never get tired of eating you out,” Mat huffs out, his chin shiny with your orgasm. He softly massages your thighs until you’re able to come down from your high.

You bite back a victorious smile, but you’re too tingly to even successfully hide it.

Without a word, but with a devious smirk, you slink down his body. You pull down his tiny swim trunks and stroke him until he’s rock hard- which doesn’t take more than a few seconds.

“Now I want you,” you whisper in his ear before sinking down on him.

“You’re so tight, pretty girl. You were made just for me,” he groans, hands cupping your ass as you rock your hips into him.

Lacing your hands around his neck, you pull yourself closer and let his tip prod at your g-spot. With every nudge you feel your release reviving, taking over your consciousness and making you bounce on him until you’re crying out in pleasure.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” you whine as his thrusts meet your movements.

Mat takes your nipple in his mouth, kissing and biting until he’s dragging his mouth all over your chest. He rises to his knees and with all his strength, hauls you off his cock and places your legs over his shoulders. His hands find your hips, slamming you down on his length and ramming into you. Your pussy flutters around him at the position change, sensitive to the way he hits much deeper this way.

“Oh my god,” seems to be the only words you can formulate and they come out in a whimpered mantra.

White dots start to blur your vision and your limbs feel uncontrollable. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten, sending waves of heat through your body.

“Cum for me. I can feel your pretty little pussy squeezing me,” Mat grunts in a hot rasp. It sends a chill down your spine.

Your walls collapse around him, spasming against his pulsing length. With whatever strength you have left, you jut your hips up and take him as deep as he can go.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” your boyfriend compliments you as he pulls out and brings your body to his.

Your chest thunders against his as you try to grasp at him, so that he can keep your quaking body still.

“I love you,” you whisper into his collarbone, leaving a soft kiss there.

“I love you.”

Mat lays you back on the deck in front of him, your figure glowing under the sun. You emanate love and passion as it courses through your veins. Your hair is past the point of being messy and your lips are extra swollen from biting them. The sea breeze washes over you, and makes chills dot your skin and makes your nipples tighten.

You spread your legs, letting Mat catch sight of your orgasm dripping out of you. The yacht rocks back and forth on the waves, pushing him towards your glistening core. Or maybe it’s the craving of your taste that has him crawling to you on all fours.

“Do you have one more in you?” One of his fingers traces around your inner thigh.

“Always for you,” you sigh and stretch out your arms above your head.

“Look at me, pretty.”

You almost combust as you watch your boyfriend kiss down your slit. He parts your folds and lets his spit drop onto your clit. He spreads it around your opening, hungrily eating up the way you clench around an annoying emptiness. His tongue swirls around your begging hole, making your legs twitch. In an effort to keep you still, he places your legs over his shoulders while his hands are planted on your ankles.

His moans of satisfaction mix with your cries of ecstasy as he slurps up every bit of your arousal and previous orgasms.

“Uhh I love your tongue,” you breathe out.

“I know you do,” he mutters against you, dropping his eye in wink.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as he thrusts his tongue inside of you, exploring your pussy as if it’s the first time.

“Look at you, you’re already shaking. Cum for me.” His hands gravitate to your boobs, palming them with his large hands as he continues to fuck you with his mouth.

Your hips buck into his face, needing more of him. Your toes curls and your body stiffens as another release ravages your already limp body.

The heat coiling within you bursts into flames. You shiver and writhe around while he laps at the mess between your thighs. You’re too blissed out to feel him snake up your body and bring you into his chest. He circles your bud, smiling in admiration when your head falls back. Your eyes are closed, long eyelashes dusting your cheeks and your mouth is open in a silent moan. His lips kiss on your bitten bottom lip, bringing you out of your haze.

“Are you okay?” Mat’s voice is soft much like his hands as they roam all over you.

“Yes, you were so amazing,” you whisper, your forehead pressed to his neck. You hold onto him tightly as you catch your breath.

“I’m amazing? Baby, you’ve never seen yourself cum around my tongue or my cock. You’re ethereal always, but even more so when your body is completely rendered to me. You get this distinct glow,” he returns the compliment as he noses at your hair.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh and kiss him once more.

“No, I’m in love with you. I can’t believe we get to be here together.”

“You’re so sexy when you’re being sappy,” you giggle into his lips.

“You’re perfect,” Mat states, eyes boring into yours and his hand holding your cheek.

“I know,” you grin and relax into his body. The waves carry you both into a peaceful and warm orgasmic glow. Completely wrapped around each other, not sure where one ends or begins.

a/n: Before editing this piece, I didn’t really like it. Now I love this piece and I hope y’all do too!!

[amirasainz]

hi!! i really love your works and i always look forward to you contents. can you write about a quadrant content but it’s just lando and baby!sainz flirting with each other

So much fun to write. I hope it is how you guys imagined this. I can only advise you guys to watch the video. It is extremlx funny.

Enjoy reading and send some requests.

-XoXo

Spill your guts

It was another day of filming a new video of Quadrant. The team took it upon themselves to invite two special guest for their new video. One of them was the britisch Youtuber Filly, while the other one was Amira Sainz aka Landos love of his life (his words).

Lando sat in the middle of the table. On his closest right side sat Amira, Ethan and Aarav. On his left side sat Filly and Niran. In front of them was a variety of disgusting food, for example a 1000 year old egg (how does that work) or a fish smoothie. Lando would ask each person a question. If someone didn't want to answer, they would have to eat the food.

As usual, Amira and Lando were in their own little world the whole time. Lando even brought her a special designed LN4 hoodie. So while everyone started with a hard question, it was now Amiras turn. "Ok darling. Let's start easy. Do you like the new collection" questioned Lando softly. Amira nodded with a bright smile and Lando clapped for a short moment. The guys at the table were shocked. The have been warned before the video about the behaviour between those two. Seeing it was a whole different thing.

So the game continued on and on. While Niran across from her was nearly dying after eating the egg, Lando turned to her. He took her hand in his and looked her deeply in the eyes. "Now, this is a hard question, Baby. You'll probably want to answer it and not drink a fish smoothie ok?" Lando was always so careful with her. He didn't care if his friends were dying next to him. I mean, no-one would if the Amira Sainz sat next to them.

"You once mentioned that you like nearly everyone on set of Narcos. Who was the person you didn't like?" The question was met with a lot of "uhhh"-s from around the table. After a short moment, she answered: "I really can't tell. I don't want to offend anyone." When she reached for the glass, Filly tried to console her: "Amira, you're probably one of the bravest girl out there." Before she could drink it Lando yelled a loud "Wait!", scaring everyone in a 5 mile radius.

"Baby, I can't let you drink that. However, because you didn't answer, you will have to drink lemon water" "Nooooo, please no lemon water" Amira said sadly. Lando just nodded sadly, tears already gathering in his eyes. The boys just stared incredulously at the pair. "How is lemon water worst than a freaking fish smoothie" asked Aarav, looking directly into the camera.

After she drank the water, Lando hugged her tightly. "You did so good, my pretty girl. I know it was really sour, but you make my life sweeter." So for the whole video, Lando would only give Amira things like cuttet onion, a hard noodle or vanilla ice-creme. The ice-creme was probably the worst thing for her, because she is a huge chocolate fan. And after every answer she gave, he would either hold her hand or kiss her forehand. Lando was everything but secretive.

After Filly came back from his quick toilet visit Amira asked him: "Is the sauce really so bad?" "Love, you have no idea. I saw my dead grandfather in front of me". This prompted a round of laughter from around the table. "I kind of want to try it" she said. Before anyone could stop her, she downed the whole glass.

"Oh my god", "What the fuck" and "Baby, are you mad" were the reactions she was met with. Everyone stared at her. However, Amira just liked her lips and said "This shit is really good"

[billybob598]

Monster (Alessia Russo x Reader)

What's up my mammals? anyways, this was requested originally as an air ambulance reader but I decided to switch it up a bit, if that's ok. i was planning on doing the olga fic next but I really wanna do a kcc fic so I might work on both. enough of me, though. like always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Happy reading!

Word Count: 2k (I mean...COME ON MOTHERTRUCKERS)

Warnings: Swearing, a bit of violence, emotional crisis

“Ooh, how about this one?” Alessia says from above you while pointing at a picture in the magazine you were holding. 

“Mmm, no I don’t like that one,” you respond, shaking your head. Alessia pouts, begrudgingly flipping the page. The two of you were engaged to be married and were currently picking out tables for your reception. You continue to flip through the magazine pages as you lie between your fiancee’s legs. After a few more minutes of vetoing each other's choices, you both decided to take a break. You get up and start making some coffee while Alessia takes a little longer to get out of bed. Just as you’re pouring the coffee into your mugs, Alessia calls you to the bedroom,

“Y/N! Come here now!” Startled, you hastily head towards your shared room.

“Everything okay, love?” Peeking around the corner you find your girlfriend, white as a ghost, your phone a few inches away from her ear. Rushing over, you carefully remove the phone from her hand and put it beside your ear. “Who is this?” 

“Lieutenant Y/L/N, good to talk to you again,” the unmistakable deep voice says through the speaker. Unknowingly, you stand up straighter. Shoulders back, chest puffing out. 

“Sir,” you say, your voice miles different than the one you were just speaking to Alessia in.

“I’m going to get straight to the point, you’re being deployed. I’ll send you the details and your flight information. I’m not asking, soldier,” his tone left no room for arguing. You sigh, glancing over at Alessia who watched and listened to your conversation intently. 

“Sir, with all due respect, is there no one else that you could take?” You say exasperated.

“Are you saying you don’t want to serve your country, Lieutenant?” 

“No, no, not at all. But, you see I’m getting married in a few months here, sir.”

“Well, in a few months, you’ll be back. As I said, this isn’t a request.” With a sigh you nod and mutter out a “yes sir” before hanging up the phone and turning to look at the Arsenal striker.

“Less?” She doesn’t respond. She’s rooted to the spot. Her mind racing at a million miles an hour. They were going send you and hundreds of other British soldiers in there to fight a military that looked very far from surrendering. No. She couldn’t let you go like that. She was this close to finally being able to call you her wife. There was no chance in hell that she’d let you slip through her fingers like that. She’s broken out of her thoughts by your hand gently grasping hers. 

“Sorry, what?” She asks, meeting your eyes for the first time since receiving the phone call.

“Are you okay, Less?” You speak softly while slowly caressing the back of her hand. 

“Mhm, of course I am. Not like they’re deploying you into a country in absolute carnage or anything,” she mutters, her frustration getting the better of her.

“Baby, come on now. You know I can’t control this and it’s my job. It’s what I signed up for, it’s what you signed up for,” you reason.

“I know it’s what I signed up for, but what I didn’t sign up for is you leaving for duty with only a few months until we’re supposed to get married,” her voice stern. 

“Baby, I can’t say no, I’ll get dishonourably discharged. I’ll be fine Alessia, don’t worry,” you try to reason, getting a bit frustrated. Your girlfriend nods her head sadly. 

“Okay, okay. You’re right, you have to go. But, you have to call at least once a day, deal?”

A grin comes across your face as you pull her into a soft kiss, “Deal.”

A few weeks later, you’re tiredly peeling off your combat dress. Throwing the last few bits of armour onto the ground, you sigh and lie down on the bottom bunk. After a long day of bullets, bombs, and blood all you want to do is get just a few minutes of sleep before you’re put back on patrol duty. Just as your eyes begin to shut, your phone rings. The special ringtone you have set indicates who it is. 

“Hey, love!” Your favourite blonde’s cheery voice exclaims through the speakers.

“Hi Lessi,” you mumble out, tiredly. She frowns. 

“Everything okay, love?” 

You try to muster up a convincing smile, “Yeah, yeah everything’s fine, baby. Just tired is all.” Alessia isn’t convinced by your attempts, however.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she says softly. 

“It’s okay, baby. How about you tell me about your day,” you sigh, obviously not wanting to talk. The striker nods and begins to talk in great detail about her day. You nod along and throw a question in every once and a while. After almost thirty minutes, you begin to yawn and your eyelids get heavier and heavier by the second. 

“How about you go to sleep now, honey,” Alessia’s soft, sweet voice whispers to you. 

“Mmm, okay. Don’t hang up, though,” you mumble sleepily. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t wanna be alone, please,” Alessia’s heart cracks slightly at how sad and scared you sound. 

“Of course, baby. I’ll be right here, you go to sleep now,” she coos. Within thirty seconds you’re out. Alessia laughs quietly and continues to get ready for training. She puts herself on mute as she goes about her day. While she was eating her breakfast with the team, she was teased relentlessly. It was fine by her though, she was just happy to see your face. And to see that you were finally resting. She knew that you weren’t exactly getting your 7-8 hours of sleep, so seeing you sleeping, if only for a bit, brought her some peace. 

As Alessia and Kyra Cooney-Cross were walking through the halls, on their way to the changeroom, a sudden and loud bang could be heard from your side. Startled, Alessia looks at her phone only to find you wide awake, eyes big. 

The striker unmutes herself, “Y/N, love, is everything okay?”

Your eyes widen even further when you hear her voice, “Err, yeah, everything’s good.” Alessia is not convinced at all.

Even less so when she hears a random voice yell through the night, “We’re under attack!” This springs you into action, you rush to put on your combat dress. Alessia is rooted to the spot. This couldn’t be happening, could it? Grabbing your phone, you sprint out of the barrack and towards the weaponry. Flinging the door open, you and a dozen other soldiers rush to grab rifles or pistols or anything really. 

“Less, I’ve got to go…” you say loudly, over the bullets and shouts.

“Y/N? Are you okay? What’s happ-” Alessia is cut short when you hang up. Tears are already filling her eyes as Kyra pulls her into a tight hug.

“I’m sure she’s gonna be okay,” Kyra says into her ear. 

Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you tuck your phone away.

“Y/L/N! Take a team. Try and see if you can get in behind them,” One of your superior officers tells you. Nodding, you pick seven other people and lead them into the darkness. Everyone was silent as you trekked through the desert. Every once and awhile someone would say something over the radio or there would a random burst of gunfire, making everyone’s head swivel. The tension was palpable. It felt that if anyone so much as breathed a hair too loudly, that you’d be discovered. In the distance you could see the tanks and soldiers going at it. The eight of you continued on, nerves only increasing the closer you got to the enemies camp. After twenty more minutes of walking, your little group was only a few hundred metres out from their first line of defence. Suddenly, there was a round of shots fired. Shit, they’d seen you. Everyone scattered as best they could. That was the downside of warfare in the desert, there was nowhere to hide. 

“This way! Come on, run!” You yell into the blackness, hoping someone had heard you. Loading your rifle, you turned and fired a few shots back, giving enough time for everyone else on your team to take cover behind a sand ridge. When the final person ran past you, you turned and sprinted up the massive hill. You were almost at the top when the guy in front of you hit the ground with a grunt. Blood almost immediately leaking through the back of his shirt. “Come on, come on, man.” You grabbed his arm roughly and dragged him behind you. Reaching the peak of the ridge, you pulled the two of you down the other side.

“Ahh, fuck,” he mutters out. Quickly, you and another soldier cover up his wound. 

“You’re gonna be fine, mate,” you say to him, ���Keep applying pressure.” The other soldier nods and ensures that their hands are covering everything. “Alright guys, we have two options. One, we turn back, try to use this ridge as cover and try to make it back to base. Two, some of us stay here and try and snipe them. The others move in and try to take out their tanks. I saw them, they’re not very heavily guarded and I bet we could rush them and take out them out.”

Everyone looks around at each other. A few of them shrug non-chalantly. Finally, Colgate, a Second Liuetenant who had been given his nickname from the odd spelling of his last name, spoke up, “Let’s blow these motherfuckers.” Hearty laughs erupt from everyone.

Two people set up as snipers while the wounded guy also grabs his rifle to try and contribute. The restof you talk over the plan, deciding on two rushing to the left and taking out any guards covering the side and the rest go through the middle. 

“Okay, everyone ready?” You ask to the group. You get nods in response, “Let’s roll out then.” 

Stalking through the night, every footstep sounds painfully loud. The five of you successfully get to the tanks, two taking cover behind some storage container. The other three of you hide behind an abandoned car. Giving the go-ahead signal, everyone surges forward. Pressing down on the trigger of your gun, your arms shake from the recoil. You direct the bullets at the few guards standing around. If you weren’t able to see the bullets coming from beside you, you wouldn’t of known that anyone else was shooting. Everything seemed so distant, you could barely make out the sound of your own gun firing. As each one of the soldiers dropped, you rushed forward. Reaching into the backpack hanging off your back, you took out enough grenades to blow everything within their blast radius to bits. Placing them strategically around the tanks, you made sure everyone was ready to run before lighting the spark. Everyone started to sprint towards the snipers, who were covering you. As you began to run, you paused, looking down at the people you had just killed. A lump forms in your throat. You had killed them. You shot them with real bullets, not those Nerf darts you used against your siblings. They were dead. They were real people. Their families were going to get those letters, the same ones you swore you would never let Alessia get. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. Run!” A yell breaks you out of your thoughts. Remembering your current situation, you get going again, barely making it behind the sand ridge in time. The explosion rings through your ears, the sight of the fireball stretching upwards was spectacular. All eight of you let out a sigh of relief. You were safe, no one was going to find you, especially since they were all to preoccupied with checking on their tanks.

You sat down in the sand, putting your head in your hands. Tears slowly fall from your eyes. War had turned you into a monster. You killed without a second thought. You didn’t want to be here. The only place you wanted to be was in your Alessia’s arms. Preparing for your storybook wedding with the love of your life. Instead, here you were, in the middle of an all-out war, killing complete strangers for no apparent reason other than you were told to.

Monster.