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moonstruckme · 2 days ago

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hi mae!!!! i was wondering if you could write any marauder x reader where it's the readers first time and during she begins to not enjoy it as its kinda painful for her and wants to stop, and the marauder of your choosing is just very lovely and reassuring about her not wanting to continue. i love all your writing!!! xoxo

Love you, thanks for requesting <3

cw: mature content mdni, afab reader, implied inexperienced/virgin reader

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 825 words

You keep James close. There’s safety in his embrace, in the gentle press of his lips against yours, and you crave that solace right now. You hold his face in your hands, making sure he doesn’t retreat far enough to see your face or to leave you here by yourself.

You want a partner, not a witness.

“You feel so good,” he says, voice dropped about two octaves since you got him out of his clothes in the dimming light of his bedroom. “So perfect, angel.”

You keep your hips still and kiss up at him half desperately.

James groans. “Oh, god. You’re so perfect. How’s that feel?”

Your kisses turn breathier, your tight chest not taking in quite enough air. You let him cup your breast in a loving hand.

“Angel? Talk to me, m’love.”

You don’t feel confident you have the breath to speak. You don’t know why you can’t just do this.

The next exhale you send out pushes James away.

“Stop,” you say, voice already breaking.

To James’ credit, he follows your instructions immediately. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I want to stop.”

“Okay. Okay, lovely.” You cover your face with your hands as James sits up. The slight movement of him inside you isn’t enough to hurt, but the feeling makes you tighten anxiously anyway. You hear him hiss. “I’m just going to pull out, alright?”

It’s a funny sensation when he does, loneliness and relief both at once. You try not to make a sound as tears turn your skin slippery beneath your fingers.

“What’s the matter?” James’ tone is gentle, devastated in a way you think he’s trying to hide but can’t. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you choke out.

Impossibly, his voice quiets further. “Did it hurt?”

A tiny sob jostles its way out of you. You nod without moving your hands.

“Oh, sweetheart.” James sounds gutted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper.

“What’re you sorry for? Hey, can I touch you? Is that alright? You can say no.”

There was never any doubt in your mind that you could, but you wouldn’t want to. You nod again, and in an instant James’ warm hands are soothing up your sides. The loneliness dissipates.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do it,” you say, still unwilling to move your hands. “It didn’t hurt that badly, I just—I freaked out.”

“Angel.” James sounds like he might be chiding you, if he could bring himself to do it. He takes your hands, and as it turns out, you’re perfectly willing to have them moved by him. His gentle touch has your face coming out of hiding, bearing witness to his crushed expression.

“Please don’t apologize,” he begs. “I don’t want to hurt you at all. I definitely don’t want to scare you.”

“I know that.” Your voice is frail. “It wasn’t your fault.”

James’ brows hook. “I think I probably had some role,” he says, dropping a tender kiss to your cheek. “Does it still hurt?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if it did? You won’t hurt my feelings.”

He’s absolutely lying, but you’re telling the truth. “It doesn’t, James. It barely even hurt when it happened.”

Your boyfriend makes a soft, sad sound. “Still.” He places a kiss next to your nose like he’s planning to soothe you inch by inch. “Do you think you might be bleeding?” You’re unsure. “Can I check?”

You hum your consent, albeit somewhat nervously. James kisses you in thanks. He reaches a hand down between your legs, bringing it back up to find only the sort of wetness you both intended. He wipes it off on his own leg, kissing you again. Kissing, kissing, kissing.

“We can try again,” you start to say. “Maybe not today, but—”

He shushes you. “We don’t have to, lovely. I mean, if you want, of course we can give it another go, but don’t feel like you have to.”

You feel a sort of shrinking in your chest. A quiet, vicious insecurity darkens your thoughts. “You don’t want to?”

James’ eyebrows jump. “Do you?”

“I…”

“Sweetheart.” He rubs your hip, brown-eyed gaze soft. “You said you got freaked out, right? I mean, it’s understandable, I would have too, but when I have a bad experience with something I usually want a bit of a break before going at it again. Don’t you want a breather?”

“Oh.” Your voice quiets. “I don’t…I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “Take your time, lovely, I’ll be here. You just have to say the word, yeah?”

Your reply is a low hum. You finally muster the courage to go to him. You sit up to put your arms around James’ shoulders, your warm chests pressing together. He envelops you without hesitation.

“It wasn’t a completely bad experience,” you mumble into his skin.

You can practically feel the bloom of his smile as he presses it into your forehead.

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reignpage · 3 hours ago

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❀ In which Nanami is put to the test by his insatiable, pregnant wife

Kento’s libido has always paled in comparison to his wife’s. That isn’t to say he can’t keep up or doesn’t, far from it. You may start the fun, but it’s he who ends it with you drooling, limp, and buzzing behind the eyes, barely able to even mumble a ‘thank you.’

It’s probably more apt to say that his libido only awakens when yours does, whether it’s from your light touches, the mischievous glint in your eyes, or low, sultry whispers in his ears — everything you do and say sparks his sexual spirit. You even joke that he’s wife-sexual and he doesn’t argue against that.

But these days, he’s starting to question whether there are limits to his appetite and whether you have any at all.

Now washing the dishes always ends up with your soft, protruding belly pressed against his back and your arms roving his front. You muse about how amazing his muscles look from the back, how broad his shoulders are, and how his hips seem to be getting narrower and narrower (it’s impossible, of course, but you're adamant). With his hands still sudsy, he knows he can’t sate your desire with his fingers alone, so he gets down on his knees, keeps his eyes on yours, and tastes you on his tongue until you tap out.

Returning home from work comes with surprises too, usually involving his wife on her knees wearing nothing but the ring he kisses every morning and every night. Driving anywhere, for example, involves some heavy petting during traffic or, when you cannot possibly wait any longer, parking somewhere obscured and having a quick and steamy romp in the backseat.

Or two.

Up till now, he’s managed rather well; every needs you have are met and expeditiously, even before you were pregnant and especially so now that you are. But, when he wakes up, dazed, confused and with his cock being sucked and slobbered on, he’s met with your adorably round eyes and shiny, swollen lips wrapped around his equally swollen and plump cock, as he pulls the covers away.

“Oh, s-sweetheart. It’s late. Did you get -hah- antsy again?”

You nod, cheeks hallowed to slurp on the bubbling pre-cum at his tip. He groans, head thrown back and blond hair spilling all over his pillows. His darling wife isn't the greatest in the kitchen or reading the room, but good God, are you amazing at bringing him to his knees?

Inspirational, really.

Cooing, he brushes your hair out of your face and sends a shaky smile your way. “F-feeling empty, my love? Lonely? Come up here, sweetheart. Let Ken take care of you.”

A pout graces those lips he loves so much when you nuzzle his palm.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Kenny. I really tried to hold back, I swear! It’s just like a craving, y’know?”

He’s got you straddling his lap soon, your huge shirt framing your larger-than-normal body, the neckline slipping off one shoulder, and nipples pebbled under the thin material — you look nothing short of the embodiment of temptation, the paragon of seduction.

“What did I say before? Hmm?” A thumb begins rubbing circles over your clit, concealed behind soaked cotton and it squelches under his touch. You’re both breathless, moving slowly, gently, lovingly in the dark like you have a million times before and will a million times after. “You can always come to me for your needs. I’d resent myself if I ever made you feel embarrassed or alone in this pregnancy. Every high and low, we face it together, remember?”

Growing more and more hungry, you find yourself no longer grinding down on his hand; instead, you’re gripping his length between your pussy lips, sharing in the wetness and seeking to hear more of his low groans as if it fuels you. “Ngh, Ken, I know. You’ve been so good t-to me; I just feel bad asking for more when you’ve —fuck, I’m gonna cum!— g-given me everything.”

These days you're more sensitive than usual and it's maddening trying to go easy on your poor cunt when his eyes are rolling back and his cock seems to have grown a mind of its own as it pounds your clamping, sloppy inside. Overstimulation is a common theme now and it's a bother to hide the twitch of his lips when you cry from your fifth orgasm in an hour with the end nowhere in sight. He never thought he'd like to see tears trail down your cheeks but this pregnancy's rewiring everything in your bodies.

“Have I not done a good enough job of making sure you know —that’s it, sweetheart, grind down on me, ah, s-such a good girl —e-everything that’s mine is yours?”

Gasping and whining, you admit, “Yes! Yes, you have.”

“And how m-many times—“ He groans, voice deepening into a growl, sounding almost angry that you need yet another reminder of your place in his life. “— have I told you that you don’t need to -hah- a-ask? That you can t-take from me whatever you like, whenever you like.”

Sweat is beading down your body, thicker thighs pushing through the ache from grinding down on his cock. His huge hands, safe and warm, are pulling you down. Kento’s perceptive eyes see the way they quiver with your feeble attempt to keep most of your weight off of him, but what you don’t know is that he can take it. That he doesn’t mind. That he craves your complete and utter reliance on him.

“All the time!”

Needlessly worried about the growing heaviness of your body, he takes every opportunity to remind you that he doesn't work out for aesthetics. All that he does is intended to make you happy and he knows how much you love the burliness of his body, the strength in every limb, every muscle, and every flex. Sometimes, he puts on a show just to watch you press your thighs together.

“Then please act like it,” he hisses. “Please, just use me without hesitation. Fuck, d-don’t even bother with pretences. Just slide my —God, you’re so wet, s-sweetheart— s-slide my cock inside you and ride me till you cum. Until you’ve had enough.”

Your husband is close, too. His abs, sharp and well-defined, are tensing up, and the veins in his arms are popping with the effort to keep from cumming all over your sopping cunt before your cum drips down his balls. It’s crude, vulgar, downright shameful, he knows that. But you have a gift; you can drive him to insanity, to the very edge of reason, of self-control, dangling him right where you want him, sweating and babbling about another baby before you even had your first one, and then you pull him back to safety, and he returns as your husband and not your walking sex toy.

"I wish you would just touch m-me without worry, my love. I hate to see you dig your nails into your own skin —your lovely, beautiful skin, so pretty and hnngh! all for me— b-because you're trying to hold back."

Mewling and clawing his clammy chest, you promise, "I will! I'll just take what I w-want. I'll k-kiss you and touch you and fuck you when I need to, 'kay, K-ken? Even when you're busy!"

"N-never too busy for you, darling."

Spasms wrack your body as he growls out, more to himself than to anyone else, "Never."

When you slump onto his body, shaking and mouthing adorations into the blond splattering of hair on his chest, he doesn’t even care that his orgasm was stifled. He can only rub your back reassuringly as he begins worrying about the pressure you’re applying on your belly.

You laugh. “This pregnancy has changed you, Ken. You're just as bad as me, sometimes. Maybe your hormones are going crazy, too.”

He kisses your head, eyes crinkling at the corners and cock throbbing under your stomach from the sweet scent of you filling the air. “It’s only made me bolder, honey. More honest. Now, have you had enough, love? Should we get you back on your side of the bed? The doctors said you need as much sleep as possible and we have a big day tomorrow with our crib shopping, remember?”

Grinning ear to ear, you sit up again.

Kento recognises that glint in your eyes and he sighs. He's in for a long night.

“Are you insane? The night is still young, Kenny honey, and we need practice for baby number two, remember?”

Hooking your panties to the side for you, a chuckle leaves his lips, which he licks subconsciously, eyes drawn to the shiny lips slowly but expertly engulfing his cock, inch by inch.

“I have a feeling we won’t be stopping at baby two tonight, darling.”

#jjk fluff #jjk smut #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #jjk x you #jjk drabble #nanami x reader #Nanami Kento #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami drabble #nanami oneshot #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen drabble #jujutsu kaisen fic

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eshcohen · 2 days ago

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READ ON ROYAL ROAD

The gods are awakening.

Ten years ago, the stars fell on the city of New Babylon.

Molly and Ethan Sparrow barely escaped, saved on that apocalyptic night by their aunt Miriam. They drove for hours through the mists of the wastelands, until the road led somewhere else – a new reality.

Ten years have passed.

Molly still remembers the voice in the sea. It spoke in her dreams the night the stars fell, rising from the ocean’s depths. Something ancient was watching her with colossal red eyes. Now nearly eighteen, the voice calls to her again: the tide is rising, it says.

Ethan is now an up-and-coming journalist. Since their aunt’s death, all he has is his younger sister. But he is still haunted by the memory of a city that doesn’t exist – an impossible megalopolis rising on the shores of an endless sea. No record of it remains. No one believes it was ever there.

But it did. New Babylon endured, and it's calling them back home.

Back to the edge of existence.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Divinium: Tehomot is a cosmic post-apocalyptic fantasy epic, told through dual first-person POVs of the Sparrow siblings.

Perfect for fans of fantasy, soft sci-fi, cosmic horror, slow-burn mysteries, romance, and immersive worldbuilding.

Part of the Realms of Kiyum series, which also includes the WIP interactive fiction game The Bar on the Abyss.

Loved the first chapters? You're more than welcome to comment and rate it on RR, or send your questions and requests here!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

To Those Who Followed Me to the Abyss and Back — Thank You.

This is a love letter to you. First, thank you. Truly. If you’ve followed The Bar on the Abyss, if you've listened to my ramble here for two years, thank you for being here. You didn’t just arrive at the bar. You stayed. You helped me build it.

As I’ve mentioned before, TBOTA unfolds in what is now called 'Realms of Kiyum — a setting I first created a long time ago, for a different story entirely.

That story was buried for a while. Then it started whispering again.

Now, it’s rising.

In the end, I chose to write it as a novel because that’s the shape it demanded.

But let me be absolutely clear: I’m not abandoning The Bar on the Abyss.

Actually, it’s the opposite.

Writing the novel has given me new energy. So these two projects are going to grow together. They echo and mirror one another. Sometimes they clash. That’s the fun of multiverses.

Right now, the plan is this: TBOTA will be the first project I finish. It’s smaller (well, in story, a game is ANYTHING BUT SMALL) and more focused — the first act of a larger story.

Divinium: Tehomoth will take more time. It’s a three-book arc, and beyond Chapters 1 and 2, most of what I’ve written before is now void—wiped clean to make space for what this story is meant to be.

So if you’re here for the game, don’t worry — I’m still in the bar with you.

And if you’re curious about the book, come read the novel. They’re pieces of the same dream.

Thanks for walking with me this far. And truly — there’s still so much more to see.

Esh ❤

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hyperfixiation-station · 1 day ago

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Behind Enemy Lines Pt.2

CW: Detailed description of wounds and torture, talk of derealization, disassociation, medical inaccuracies Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. ALSO I CAN'T FIND THE SAME GIF I USED FOR THE LAST ONE IM SO SAD and also this is shorter than the last one idea playlist part 1 thanks to @haven247 for being my beta

“I'm a medic, please I don't know anything!” wrists strapped, metal on metal, ears ringing

“Stop please I-” touching, pulling, biting

“Im just a medic pl-” it hurts it hurts stop it please

“I don't know anything!” I'm innocent in this

“Please!” just let me die

“Stop it, please!” hurts hurts hurts

God just let me go

Humans are a funny thing. They crave life and living, no matter how awful the circumstance. You thought a lot about the apocalypse shows you used to binge watch, though about how they all fought to survive, even when it would have been better to die. You never really understood them until now. How someone could lose everything, be betrayed and hurt again and again and still want to live. And yet here you are.

Maybe hope if foolish. You'd lost hope for a long time, or at least you'd thought you'd had. But as the soldiers came crashing into your prison, as they held you at gunpoint as you tried to save their friend, you could feel her crawling out of the dark recesses of your heart. Her light was flickering, but there.

Stepping outside almost sends you into shock. The sights, the sounds the smells, everything just came rushing at you like a freight train. For so long you'd been floating in some half-aware state, the world around you muted and dull, and to have it crash back in like this was startling, to say the least. You would have fallen if not for the dark-skinned soldier holding your arm in a vice-like grip.

You can hear gunfire and screaming, so loud it almost made your ears hurt. Smell the smoke and the burning rubber. Feel the wind in your tangled hair and the blood slicking your hands. The blood. It is hot and slippery, coating your hands and soaking into your ratty t-shirt. You can hear Ghost's rattling, wet breaths, smell the metallic scent of his blood, feel the way his meat, his muscles and fat, brushed against your hand as you kept him from bleeding out, can feel his organs pressing against your fingers with each shuddering breath he takes.

Oddly enough, these sensation help ground you. They were things you knew, feeling you had grown accustomed to since your first day in med school.

You reach a helicopter, the rotors already spinning. Its a bit of a struggle to get in while making sure you don't let go of Ghost, but you manage. The soldiers carrying him place him on a row of seats, and you kneel down next to his body, hand still firmly holding gauze in place.

It wasn't doing much good, but it's not like you could tell anyone.

"Help him." The soldier with the mustache orders the moment you're in the air. He thrusts a med-kit at you, and the dark-skinned soldier opens it for you, showing you the contents.

They don't give you much to work with. Some gauze, a needle and thread, bandages, and a lighter. Rudimentary supplies. But hey, you've done more with less. Probably.

Your free hand drifts to the lighter, a distant memory of a soldier and a gunshot wound in a similar area flashing through your mind. It's not quite the same, more than just an artery nicked this time, but cauterization is all you can really do.

You grab the lighter, flicking it on and holding to his body. a hand closes like vice around your wrist, yanking your hand away.

"What the 'ell are ye doin'" A man with a Scottish accent practically snarls at you. You whine in response, tugging your arm uselessly.

"Soap." The mustache man says sharply, "Let 'em work."

"Sir-"

"Let them go." Your wrist drops, and you fumble with the lighter before holding the fame to Ghost's skin. You watch in sick fascination as his skin bubbles and burns, the fat and muscles shrinking away under the flame, the blood vessels sealing precariously as the heat sears them shut.

You don't know what effects this will have on his organs, if he'll be able to function the same way again. But you have to keep him alive. You look at his pale face, watch the way his chest shudders with every breath.

God you hope he makes it.

~line break~

They don't let you was before throwing you in a cell. Okay, maybe they didn't throw you, but regardless, you were still cuffed to a table with Ghost's blood crusted to your skin. It was gross. And cruel. They had stripped you away the second you reached the infirmary, not letting you see what was going to happen to your patient.

The door swings open and you flinch, looking up at the soldier that comes in with eyes. Its the man from the helicopter. Soap, you think his name is.

"Yer lucky the medics sayd he'll live." He says, his voice distinctly Scottish. He stalks towards you, sitting on the table on your left side.

" 've been instructed tae question ye, but first we ha'e tae git a look at yer face." He reaches for your mask, tugging it off your ear. All he succeeds in doing is pulling your head forward.

The mask is secured behind your head with a metal clasp, and could only be opened with a specific key, ensuring you couldn't take it off. You had tried, at first, to pull the stitches out, and this was the solution. You can't pull out stiches if you can't touch your mouth.

Soaps brow furrows, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. HE grimaces as he touches your hair, finally just pulling a knife out of his pocket. You tense automatically, squirming away as he brings it closer to you.

"Oh for fu- hold still!" He grasps your head, sliding the knife through the cloth by your ear. The mask falls away, leaving your face exposed

"Lets see what we're-" He freezes, the knife dropping to the floor with a clatter as he sees the mess that is your face. Your lips are sewn together, and the skin of your cheeks is red and raw from the tape that holds your feedign tube on.

"Oh shit." the blood drains from his face, his hand fumbling for the comm unit on his vest.

"Cap? Yeah, we've got a problem."

A/N: Okay, i'm not sure I like the second half, but here it is! Part 3 will have more Ghost/medic interaction :) tags: I definitely didn't get them all, I'm sorry there was just so many of you @smile6890 @cricricorner @unclearblur @redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05 @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho @z-wantstowrite @i-ate-ur-fries @fakeguysarehot @shitrandom @yunho-leeknow @idontreallyexistyet

#cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #call of duty #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #angst #john price #kyle gaz garrick #behind enemy lines

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tinywand · 2 days ago

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winning a fancall as their partner ᵔᴗᵔ

pairing - ot7 x gn!reader

genre - fluff

warnings - minor language (very minor) !

Jungwon

doesn't realize at first

does his rehearsed greeting, then is like, "??????"

"Y/n??"

lets out a sigh of relief and has a big smile

"You won't believe the fan call I just had... Some people.."

Jungwon vents his frustrations with people making him aegyo and meow

"Hey Wonnie?"

"Yes, Y/n?"

"Can you meow for me?"

Jungwon sits in silence for the rest of the call, arms crossed, and giving you a blank look.

When he sees you after, he continues to give the silent treatment until you offer to scratch his back

"Y/n, please don't ever do that again.."

Heeseung

ALSO doesn't realize right away

you both just kinda sit there like "😐"

then Heeseung goes "😮"

"Y/n! I didn't know you won a fan call! Why didn't you tell me?"

pretends to sulk, but is refreshed seeing you between all the other calls

"Don't be mad, I just wanted to surprise you!" You watch Heeseung start to laugh a little

"Well it worked! I love seeing all of ENGENE, but this is refreshing.. And this chair is really uncomfortable.."

"Well it's not like I'm a random ENGENE, stretch your legs while you can, Hee."

Immediately gets up and starts to stretch.

"See, this is why I love you so much Y/n."

You laugh as you see only his legs in view

He sits back down with a grin

"I'll see you later Y/n, thanks for letting me take a little break."

Jay

realizes its you and plans to tease you

"Oh my god." Jay says with a slight smile

"Surprise!" You let out little jazz hands

Pretends to not care, but secretly has butterflies

"Yeah yeah, whatever... How do I skip you?" Jay pretends to signal staff over

"Hey! Don't you dare! I won this fair and square!"

Jay laughs and blows into the mic

"Hey I thi- pshhhhhhhh this call is- psshhhhhhhh breaking up"

"You're so annoying, Jay. Im an ENGENE too you know, where's my dedicated three minutes?"

Jay laughs and settles in his chair, "Fine, I guess you're right, what do you want to talk about?"

"Actually I'm glad you asked, do you remember where I put my-"

"Hate to cut you off sweetheart, but times up." Jay laughs and sends an air kiss.

"That.. Brat!" You scowl, but end up only being able to laugh about it.

You jokingly complain about it when Jay sees you later that night

"Y/n, how about I go get you some snacks? Will that make you feel better?"

You nod, because how can that not help?

Jake

Immediately perks up. "Y/n?!"

You play dumb.. "Uh.. No that's not my name."

Jake looks confused for a second before doubling down. "Y/n, I know it's you. I literally see your posters in the back."

"Crap.." You mutter under your breath, letting out a nervous smile.

"Y/n, I didn't know you won a fan call? Were you trying to prank me? Next time I'll pretend to fall for it!"

Your heart swells, Jakes just too cute.

"Aaaghh, you make it really hard to stay in character you know. I had a whole plan set up."

Jake laughs, "Here, let's pretend like I did fall for it. Go on, do your prank."

You nod and show Jake a crude, not very well drawn photo of him. "I made this for you, cause you're my bias, Jake oppa!" You did a cringey aegyo after

"Never mind, please never do that again Y/n."

you head over to Jakes dorm, having a better prank in mind

You wait on his bed and run into his closet when you hear the boys get home.

"What the hell is this? Y/n?"

You pop out of the closet, seeing Jake staring at the fake body you made with pillows, only for the face to be your drawing

"PRANKED!!"

Sunghoon

pretends like he doesn't realize

"Hel- Oh wow. Usually I'm not supposed to say this, but you're the most attractive person I've ever seen.."

You do a mental facepalm

"Sunghoon, it's me, Y/n."

"Y/n? That's a beautiful name.. Here, let me write down my number and text me after this."

Sunghoon scribbles down his number and puts it up to the camera

"Stop playing dumb, hoonie! I was supposed to surprise you!"

"Ahh, playing hard to get? That's okay Y/n, I'm more than happy to fight for it."

"Hoon, why don't you ever flirt with me like this when we're together?"

"If I knew you, I definitely would Y/n."

Wait for him to finish his fancalls, then call him

"Oh hey babe, I saw the most beautiful ENGENE during the fan calls today..."

"Sunghoon, I swear to god I'm gonna kill you."

Sunoo

Immediately decomposes himself and lays on the table

"Y/n... its brutal out here..."

You let out a little chuckle, "What happened this time, Sun?"

Sunoo peeks up. "I have to pee, it's too hot in this room, my hair isn't cooperating, and we still have a bunch of fan calls left to do... I don't know if I can make it."

"Do it for ENGENE Sun, lots of them are looking forward to this.

Sunoo sits back up and nods.

"You're right Y/n, and they're all so nice! One of them showed me this picture they drew.. It looked exactly like me, just more handsome!"

You smile, letting Sunoo talk about all the ENGENE he met today.

"You feel better, Sun?"

"Yes, just what I needed."

A hour later Sunoo sends you a text.

"Thanks for the pick me up Y/n! I picked up some ice cream and I'm on my way over : )"

Ni-Ki

Notices its you before you even realize the call connected

Ni-Ki lets out a fake sigh. "Oh great.. It's you."

You cross your arms, used to Ni-Ki's teasing by now. "And what is that supposed to mean, Riki?"

He grins and sits back. "All I'm saying is you already take up my free time, you should share some with ENGENE."

You scoff and act hurt. "I'll have you know I won this spot buying albums. Actually- buying ENGENE versions trying to get YOURS Riki."

Ni-Ki shoots his hands up in defense. "I offered to give you one, don't pin this on me!"

You roll your eyes playfully. "If you gave me one it wouldn't count towards Billboard! I was being a supportive partner!"

Ni-Ki laughs, admitting defeat. "Alright you got me, but only because we don't have much time."

"Sounds like an excuse, but I'll take my win."

"Good decision Y/n, you don't win often!" Ni-Ki laughs

"Oh you're so dead when you get home."

You wait in Riki's dorm room, hearing his steps grow closer

You jump on him as he walks in

"Ack- What the- Y/n?"

"I told you earlier! Your dead meat Riki!"

328 notes · View notes

hamilando · 1 day ago

Note

If you do take requests what about a smau or whatever you feel fits most where George’s fiancé surprises him at a GP he wins and maybe she is an astrophysicist?

{much love from an astrophysicist master student}

ੈ✩ british gwan sik (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : george russell x reader

tw : fluff; chaos

fc : IU ( yes, i watched when life gives you tangerines )

a/n : thank you for requesting and i hope you like it !!!!! ALSO WHY CAN I IMAGINE GEORGE AS GWAN-SIK feedbacks and requests are always open !!!!

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by georgey, pastanelli, norizz, lilyhye and 123 others

iuamyn george's photography skills during midterms

view comments

georgey you did not just expose me like that

georgey I MOGGED

pastanelli it's * i mog

georgey no past tense ?

pastanelli its a slang, not grammar lesson

norizz yn, if you find a girl for me in mars, do let me know

iuamyn jupiter too right ?

norizz just god tier ass should be their

iuamyn THEY ARE PLANETS! not your tinger-jupiter, grindr-mars

norizz I AM NOT GAY !?!?!?

max are you sure

chillijr don't make me expose

norizz expose what !?

iuamyn lando, you literally wear panda undies

norizz HOW DO YOU KNOW !!?!?!!

iuamyn YOU BOUGHT THEM ON BUY 1 GET 1 FREE DEAL AND GAVE ONE PACKET TO GEORGE

norizz oops

norizz please refrain from exposing more

norizz i have a reputation to hold

liked by georgey, norizz, lordeprceval and 98 others

iuamyn i am watching him go round when i should be studying planets go round

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norizz i look nice

pastry please send the polaroid george

iuamyn THIS IS MY ACCOUNT, YOU CAN ASK ME

pastry sorry my bad

iuamyn why do you hate me

pastry BECAUSE YOU NEVER MADE ME TASTE THE BIMBIBAP, AND NEVER MADE IT AGAIN

iuamyn OVER BIMBIBAP !!??!?!?!

iuamyn making one right now as we text

pastry ok then, feud's over

pastry please send the polaroid my dear friend yn

iuamyn much much better

alexmieux love how the setting is so aestehtic

alexmieux where do you eve buy such cute stuff

iuamyn hate to admit but george buys it for me, gets me from wherever yall go

georgey what do you mean hate to admit

georgey I AIN'T BUYING FOR YOU ANYMORE

iuamyn I AM SORRY

iuamyn MY DEAR GWANSIK

georgey alright, i forgive, just because you called me gwansik

liked by lilyhye, norizz, lordperceval and 78 others

iuamyn he won. wow. the british gwan-sik won. and yes, i surprised him.

view cooments

georgey i love you for this

georgey i love you for eveyrthing

georgey my bad lads, the sex was bomb

iuamyn GEORGE RUSSELL

iuamyn YOU ARE BANNED

iuamyn NONE OF YOU RESPOND

iuamyn ISTG IF ANY OF YOU RESPONDS

iuamyn LANDO STOP MESSAGING ME

iuamyn NO KIMI, JUST IGNORE WHAT HE SAID

iuamyn GEORGE RUSSELL, THERE ARE KIDS

iuamyn BY CALLING YOU GWAN-SIK, I DIDN'T MEAN FOR YOU TO TAKE IT IN LITERAL SENSE

iuamyn WE ARE NOT HAVING THREE KIDS

georgey saturday, sunday, monday, tuesday, wednesday, seven days a wekk

iuamyn YOU ARE BANNED FROM WATCHING KDRAMAS

liked by norizz, pastanelli, max, lilihye and 187 others

iuamyn he said f1 was hard. told him to solve a cosmic ray numerical

view comments

lilyhye MUAHAHAHA

lilyhye sadly you don't have the smart asian brain

lilyhye BESTIE DOES MATHS FOR FUN

lilyhye you dare not test her

georgey WHAT EVEN IS A COSMIC RAY

georgey next time give some gravitational force numerical

max g-force on the land george, not your neck

georgey can you like NOT

lordeprceval i have never been happier of my girl being a model

iuamyn are you calling her dumb

lordperceval CAN YOU STOP IGNITING A FIGHT

lordperceval i like that she doesn't study much so she travels with me

alexmieux so i am dumb

lordpercebal NON, I NEVER said that

pastanelli i could solve it, we did that in physics recently

iuamyn i do your maths, you do the numericals

pastanelli deal.

max did you just make a deal with a high schooler ?

iuamyn who is also a FORMULA ONE DRIVER!?!?!

albono why is my gf so smitten by you

iuamyn i am smart, rich, and pretty

georgey RICH !?!?!

iuamyn your credit card, my card

iuamyn plus mercedes pays you decent so yeah, i am rich

georgey NOT TO SPEND ON LILY

lilyhye meano.

norizz while you studying all this, design them a better car

iuamyn I AM STUDYING ASTRO NOT MECHANICAL

norizz it's all physics at the end of the day

iuamyn got to know why you had to drop out to do racing

let me know if you want to be added or removed to the tg!

permanent tg: @isotopemylove @chair-things @justaf1girl @bibblemiluvr @blushmimi @nikfigueiredo @amz824 @ivegotparticulartaste @raizelchrysanderoctavius @freyathehuntress @piastri-fvx @sadiemack9 @ilivbullyingjeongin @cherry-piee @luvleylisen @sweate-r-weathe-r @jxnellat @loveofmylife12 @budgetcupid @lilaissa @scorpiodiosa @wondergirl101ks @nichmeddar @hoeforlifee @urfavnoirette @lily-ann-b @okcurran @miniboast @teti-menchon0604 @motorsportloverf1 @formula1-motogpfan @capricornito @star73807-blog

188 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

Text

Doing Time 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Steve kneels between your legs. You quiver as he splays his hands over your thighs, kneading your tender flesh with a growl. He pushes himself back and bends over you, his weight sinking you into the mattress. His lips graze above his fingers, just beneath the trim of your panties, twisted still from his tending.

His nose tickles you as he traces along the outside of your thighs, planting kisses all along your dimpled skin. You twitch and he snarls deep, giving a gentle nip. You spread your hands over the blanket and tense as he creeps closer to his prize.

His breath dampens your skin and the thin lace, adding warmth to the slickness already there.

He nuzzles the panties and drags his finger along the seam. He hooks beneath and tugs them aside. He startles you with the swipe of his tongue. You squeak and dig your heels into the bed. Your stomach coils in on itself and your core thrums with a new heat. You look down at his blonde head, the silver streaks falling forward and tickling your pelvis. You moan as he spreads his tongue wide and tastes you completely. He pulls his tongue up and flicks your clit with the tip. You whine again.

You bend your legs as your muscles draw tight and you arch your back as he delves into you heedlessly. He groans and growls as he drinks you up shamelessly. Speckles of fire and ice spread over your thighs and up to your neck. You gasp as your breath shallows as the waves curl inside of you.

He rocks his head and you clutch at the blanket. Your eyes roll back and tendrils wind around your chest and throat. You spasm and cum, heaving as the tides crash upon you in sheer ecstasy, washing away the layers of fear.

He massages your thighs as he keeps going, pushing your legs wide. He devours you, smearing your delight all over his nose and chin. He fuels you to another climax, even more striking than the last, your legs twitching, your toes curling.

You reach down to tug on his hair as his tongue swirls and swirls.

"Please, please," you beg, "please-- Steve."

He chuckles into you, a rumble that rolls through your guts. He gives one last swipe of his tongue and lifts his head. He looks up at you as your lashes flick open. Your head bobbles as you lift it to meet his gaze. His lips are shiny with your cum.

He sits up on his knees, his boxers bulging as his chest flexes, his thick middle tautening. He moves closer and bends over you, holding himself above you on his elbows. You smell the sweetness on his breath as he sighs.

"Say it," he snarls.

You exhale and flutter your lashes.

"Say you want me, baby." Your walls clench and your stomach ripples. You moan. He brings a hand to your chin and frames your face with his large hand. "Baby."

"I--" you wisp. "I... want you."

"Yeah?" He purrs.

You nod into his hand. Maybe not, but you need him. In this state, you just need more.

He pushes off of you. He hooks his fingers in the elastic of his boxers and raises himself he shoves them down, untangling himself as the bed bounces with his effort. He settles back down and grips your hips. His thumbs poke into your flesh and he lifts you just slightly.

He shifts even closer as he drapes your thighs against his. You whimper as he grabs his dick, pumping his thick length as his throat locks up. He grits out a grunt. You can't look away from what's in his hand. He's... big.

He aims his tip along your cunt and spreads your wetness over him. He groans as he does. He inches down to your entrance and pauses. He keeps his other hand on your hip and looks you in the eye.

"You ready, baby?"

Your lips part and you blink. You swallow dryly, "y-yes."

His eyes fall down between your legs and he eases into you. Just his head before he stops. He bites his lip and dips in little by little, stopping with each inch as he feels you adjust to him.

You twitch around him and he slides back. You shiver and slap the bed with a moan. He thrusts back in, deeper than before, and retreats again. He rocks, deliberately, stretching you until you’re squirming, before rearing back. With each plunge, he pushes your limits.

He falls into a rhythm. He grips your hip tight as his other hand crawls up your stomach. He kneads the cushion there and grunt between shallow breaths. His jaw squares as his blue eyes turn smoky.

He drags his hand down your side and along your thigh. He caresses down to your knee then pulls your legs up straight. He leans your foot against his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your ankle, and he kisses it.

He keeps his motion as he purrs. Your brush your hand across the blanket and over your torso. You tremble as your fingertips graze your throat and over your chin. You bite into the heel of your hand and drone.

You puff out as your insides tangle. He trails over your pelvis and wiggles his thumb between your folds. He rolls over your clit and you gasp. You tense up and reach for him.

“Steve,” you squeal.

He chuckles and does it again. You shake and he watches you fall apart. He lets your leg fall away from him and bends over you once more. He smothers your lips with his as he pumps into you. He twists his hand around and plays with you with his middle finger.

You pout into his mouth as he hooks his arm beneath you. His tongue delves into your mouth. He pulls back with long strokes only to glide back in.

You curl your arm around his and latch onto his bicep. You whine as you cum again, the slickness spreading up his pelvis and along your thighs. You clasp the back of his head and keep him there, tilting your hips as you welcome him deeper.

He snarls and tightens his hold around you. He sits up with you against him. Your head spins.

He fucks you from below as you match his pace. You shouldn’t. You know it but there’s something else that drives you on. Something desperate. Something... broken. He makes you feel wanted in a way you never have. Who he is, what he is, doesn’t matter in that moment.

You hang your head back and moan. You cum again as you lean back, hanging onto his shoulders as your hips rock on their own. He growls and flicks his finger around your clit. Your thighs quake until you have no strength left.

Before you can fall, he lays you down. He groans and you bat your lashes dozily. His eyes graze up and down your body. He fixates on your cunt and slowly pulls out. You twitch as he leaves you empty.

He licks his lips and traces up your legs, to your pelvis, then hips, along your stomach, around the curves of your body, fondling your chest, then gently petting your throat. He cradles your head between his large hands as his thumb rubs your cheek.

“I told ya, I'll take care of you.”

He releases you and sits back. He grabs your hip and flips you over. You roll onto your stomach without resistance. His other hand latches around your side and he pulls your ass up. You whimper and rest your cheek against the blanket. Your sweat dampens it, your scent wafting into your lungs.

He pushes his tip between your cheeks and down to your entrance. He slips into you once more. You moan. He bends over your back and loops his arm around your middle. He nestles his chin against your shoulder and sits back with you.

He keeps your thighs splayed over his as he rocks beneath you. The pressure pulses in your core as he reaches to turn your head. He kisses you as he fucks you patiently. His tongue tangles with yours as his other hand flutters down your stomach. Again, he toys with your clit, plucking you to the edge.

He frames your chin as he keeps you locked in. His tempo builds, your flesh clapping noisily as his thrusts reverberate through every part of you. You clutch his wrist and he kisses along your cheek as you babble.

“Yeah, baby, this is what you needed, isn’t it?” He growls.

You moan. You can’t speak.

“I needed this too. Wanted it.” He huffs as his grip tightens. “Dreamt of it...”

He bows his head and pants against your shoulder. His hair falls forward and tickles you. He ruts into you, faster and faster. His deep breaths turn to rocky grunts. He snarls and pushes you forward.

He falls on you, crushing you to the mattress as he fucks you into it. He hammers into you until you’re whining. The bed frame shakes and knocks against the wall furiously.

You feel him spill inside of you. He slows, easing out just to his tip, and plunging back in. The noise it makes sends a chill through you.

He stills as he keeps you trapped against the bed. Your heartbeat calms and your breath comes easier. Your sweaty skin sticks to his. You’re exhausted.

He isn’t. He starts again. Slow at first. His hips moving little by little, building to full strokes. In, out, in, out. You shudder beneath him.

“Baby, I told ya, I’m not getting off you,” he pets your head as he finds his rhythm. “Mm, you’re perfect for me. Built for me.” He growls. “The way you’re clinging to me. I never felt anything like it.”

Your lashes feel heavy as you blink dopily. He kisses your cheek.

“Nah, you don’t do nothing. I got you. You let me do the work,” he purrs. “Nothing you gotta do.” He fucks you steadily but not enough to put himself over. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Goddamn gorgeous--”

You close your eyes as they tinge and your nose tingles. Beneath the pleasure and the adrenaline, is something else. Something you don’t think of. You bend your arm and squeeze his bicep.

“Baby...” he purrs.

“Steve,” you sniffle. “Steve, please--”

“That’s it. Let yourself feel good.”

“Steve,” you croak and the first tear trickles out. You slap his arm. “I-- get off! Please, I--”

You turn your face down to hide the sudden overflow. You fold your arm under your head as your back wracks. He stops and caresses your hair. He hushes you as you try to suck back the sobs.

“I’m sorry--”

He pulls out and forces you onto your back, right onto his arm. He holds you, one hand rubbing your thigh as he cooes.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” He asks.

There’s a lot he’s done that scares you, but this is something else. It’s ridiculous. Pathetic. Why are you even crying.

“Baby, please, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head and stare at his chest, hiding behind your webbed lashes. You wipe your face with the back of your hand.

“It’s nothing, really, I’m just...” you scoff at yourself. “It’s been a while.”

“Me too, baby. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“Yeah, uh...” you flick away tears, frustrated as they keep flowing.

“I’d wait just as long again to be with a woman as beautiful as you--”

“Steve,” you turn your head away.

“What?”

“Stop that,” you hiss.

“Stop what?”

“Lying.”

“Lying? I told ya. I won’t do that.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Calling you... beautiful?”

You nod and stare at the wall. He laughs.

“I gotta tell the truth, baby-”

“It’s not true.” You catch his wrist as he trails up your stomach. “Alright.”

“That’s what making you cry?”

“No-- yes. N--” you sputter. You sniff. “No one ever... said it. It’s not true.”

He shakes you off of him. He brings his hand up to your chin and turns your head. “Look at me.”

You look down.

“Baby, listen to me. Look.”

The stone in his timbre makes you obey. You look into his blue eyes. They winkle as he gazes at you.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I ever seen. You’re the reason I got out. Without you, I woulda gotten ten years for bashing in the next pest who got under my feet.” His thumb rubs along your cheek. “I was good. For you.” He leans in, “cause I need you that bad.”

He presses his lips to yours, stemming all argument and any more tears. You’ll believe his lies. It’ll make this easier.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #doing times #avengers #au #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel

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piastriprincess · 2 days ago

Text

soak my scrapes and sleep tight ⸻ oscar piastri x reader .

featuring oscar piastri , established relationship , oscar is the sweetest boy in the entire world tw blood (pretty minimal but wanted to warn yall) word count 1.9k author’s note requested by @princesspiastri007 aka my username twin ! i loved , loved , loved writing this request . also ... imagine my surprise when i found out plasters were bandaids . i’m sorry i’m a stupid american !! anyway i was planning on making this a drabble but it got away from me a lil because there is something sooooooo boyfriend coded about oscar , i’m obsessed . i need to wife him up . i hope you like this , as always please come tell me what you think or send me a request ! title is from acolyte by slaughter beach , dog .

23: princess plasters and iodine .

It’s Oscar’s week off before he has to fly to Miami, and you were planning on a relaxing few days. You’d circled the dates on your calendar weeks ago in thick red Sharpie: no races, no briefings, no media. Just the two of you, together. You’ve packed a bag for the whole weekend, so you don’t have to leave your boyfriend’s company for a single second.

Your grand plan lasts approximately thirty-seven minutes. You’re just settling in at Oscar’s when your sister calls you in a panic: her job is sending her on a last-minute site visit, and could you please watch Lucy for the weekend? You say yes, of course — how could you not? You love your niece, a precocious, rambunctious little four-year-old, and you love being the cool aunt. You’re sad to lose your weekend with Oscar, but you’re sure he’ll understand.

“Bad news.” You’re already half-apologizing, forehead scrunched as you hang up the phone and walk back into Oscar’s living room. He’s lying on the couch, engrossed in a Sally Rooney book he stole off your bookshelf a few months ago. “I have to postpone our weekend. My sister needs me to watch Lucy.”

He dog-ears his page, setting the book carefully on the coffee table and looking up at you with that soft smile he reserves just for you. “Sounds fun. I’m excited to meet her,” he says nonchalantly, and your breath catches in your throat.

You’re not sure what you expected Oscar to say. Certainly not that he’d give up his first weekend off in a month to help you babysit a kid he’s never met. But if you’re being honest with yourself, it’s not the first time he’s stepped into the hurricane that is your life like it’s second nature — quiet, calm, already carrying half the weight without you even asking. He grounds you. It’s one of the things you like best about him.

You perch carefully on the couch next to him, running your fingers through his hair. He sighs, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “Osc, she’s four. She’s a ball of energy, and this is supposed to be your weekend off. I don’t wanna ruin it,” you reply reluctantly. He’s shaking his head before you even finish talking, looking up at you with those big brown eyes, gaze steady and sure. “Baby. What would ruin my weekend is not getting to spend it with you.” Something unfurls in your chest at that, soft and tender. He presses up on his elbows, already getting to his feet and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Now come on. Get your bag, I’ll drive.”

—

An hour later, Oscar pulls into your sister’s driveway, slinging both of your weekend bags over his shoulder like they’re feather-light and taking your hand in his as you walk up to her front stoop. She must have seen you coming (to be fair, his cherry-red McLaren isn’t exactly subtle), because she’s already halfway out the door. You barely have time for her to give you a frantic thank you and tell Oscar it’s lovely to see him again. A quick kiss on the cheek and just like that, she’s disappearing into the Uber that’s been idling by the curb, the driver peeling away to the airport like he’s P1 on the starting grid.

“Last chance to back out,” you say wryly to Oscar.

He gives your hand a little squeeze, palm warm and comforting in yours, and you can feel the tension in your shoulders ease. “I’m staying right here.”

You open the door to a blur of light-up sneakers and Lucy throwing her arms around your legs in an enthusiastic hug. She looks the same as always: hair pulled into messy pigtails, tiara headband set just slightly askew, sparkly nail polish on her tiny fingers, and her ratty old unicorn blankie tucked under her arm. She’s beaming at you so hard her cheeks stretch, but the smile fades when she sees Oscar.

“Who’s that?” she demands, hands on her hips.

You smile at her, crouching so you’re on her level. “Lucy, this is Oscar. Can you say hi?”

She ignores you completely. “Are you her boyfriend?” she asks, wide, suspicious eyes trained directly on his face.

Oscar’s neck flushes, the way it always does when he’s nervous. He wants her to like him, you realize, and your heart does an unfamiliar little swoop in your chest. He clears his throat. “I am, Your Highness,” he replies, smiling softly at her. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Lucy purses her lips slightly, like she’s sizing him up. Oscar’s eyes flick to you worriedly, and if you didn’t know any better you’d swear he was holding his breath. Then she smiles at him. “You too. Do you want to have a tea party with me?”

“It would be my honor,” he nods seriously at her. She grabs his hand - his fingers, really, since his hand is too big for her to hold onto - and pulls him into the living room, leaving you behind with the bags in the entryway.

Thirty seconds of Oscar, and it’s like you don’t even exist to Lucy anymore. You’d be upset, if it wasn’t so understandable. After all, you fell in love with Oscar the moment you met him too.

—

You swear it only takes you a minute to put your bags upstairs in the guest room, but when you get back you’re in for an absolute sight. Your boyfriend is sitting next to the Ikea stuffed bear you bought Lucy for her birthday last year, legs criss-crossed neatly beneath him. The silvery tiara he’s wearing glints under the overhead lights, his face peeking out from atop a fluffy pink-feather boa. He’s holding a plastic teacup in his hand delicately, listening to Lucy’s narration of her fairytale kingdom’s dynamics with the kind of focus you’ve seen him use for team briefings. Your chest feels tight suddenly as you watch him from the doorway, a strange, sweet ache blooming underneath your skin.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles at you when he sees you, those honey-brown eyes crinkling at the edges. Oh, you’re a goner. You move towards him on instinct, dropping gracefully to your knees beside him. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you slot into his side like you were made to be there. You let yourself enjoy the quiet warmth of his body, solid and strong beside you as Lucy chatters away about stuffed animal etiquette in the late afternoon light. Suddenly, it’s like you can see it — the echo of future quiet afternoons, grocery lists on the fridge, a life built of small, perfect moments with him. You wonder, just for a moment, if he feels it too.

“Wait!” Lucy brings you back to the present as she interrupts herself, her tiny brows knitting together. “You can’t come to the tea party without a tiara. Princesses have to have tiaras.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Highness,” you reply, playing along, though your cheeks are still flushed. “How silly of me. I’ll go get one.”

You’re about to stand when Oscar’s fingers curl around your wrist gently. “I got it,” he says softly, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles before all five feet, ten inches of him extend to full height. He moves just a little too fast, you try to stop him just a little too late, and when he stands up he smacks his head hard into the sloping ceiling. You wince at the dull crack, the way the tiara shatters into shiny plastic shards, one cutting a jagged gash into his pale skin.

“Ow,” Oscar says mildly, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Lucy gawks at him, openmouthed. “Oh no, Princess Oscar!”

—

“It’s really not that bad,” Oscar says, and you know he’s trying to reassure you, to soothe the way your pulse is stuttering erratically beneath your skin. As always, he’s the picture of calm, sitting patiently on the closed toilet lid while you rummage through the first aid kit your sister keeps under the bathroom sink. The wad of toilet paper you made him hold to the cut is starting to stain crimson-red.

“You can’t even see it,” you reply, your fingers closing around the bottle of iodine as you emerge from the cabinet triumphantly. “It's awful. Zak’s going to fine me for scratching up his driver.”

“You’ve done worse before,” he smirks cheesily at you, eyes half-lidded, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat as you swat at his arm playfully. His legs are too long for the small room; you have to crawl over them to get to a spot where you can clean him up. You place a hand on his thigh as you move, to stabilize yourself, and he goes pink up to his ears. Now there’s your Oscar, you think to yourself as you pour the iodine onto a cotton pad.

“This might sting a bit,” you warn him.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine,” he insists, right before hissing through his teeth when you dab at the cut.

You stick your tongue out at him. “Be brave, Princess Oscar.”

He laughs outright at that, and his eyelashes flutter against your wrist. A warm twist curls low in your stomach at the contact. “Right,” you say, pulling the box of bandages from behind your back. They’re princess-themed, of course. Fitting. “Aurora or Ariel?”

“Ariel,” he responds instantly, and you raise your eyebrows at him. “What?” he shrugs, smiling at you. “I know the princesses, I have sisters.”

You peel the wrapper open carefully and smooth the bandage across his cut, gentle and precise. He’s quiet for a moment, watching you, the way your fingers ghost over his skin, the way you care for him like it’s an instinct.

“You know, if this is what the future looks like, I think I’d be really happy,” Oscar says absentmindedly, and your heart stutters in your chest.

His eyes widen at the same time yours do, and he presses his lips together like he didn’t quite mean to say it out loud. Like it was a thought he was holding close to his heart until he knew you’d be ready to hear it.

You stare at him, your lips parted. His cheeks are slightly pink from the confession, and you’re so close you can see the honey brown of his irises. It’d be so easy to kiss him right now, and you’re not in the habit of denying yourself simple pleasures. So you dip your mouth to his, fingers curling loosely at the nape of his neck.

He makes a soft, surprised noise against your lips, one hand rising instinctively to rest at your waist. The kiss is unhurried, familiar, but there’s something new about it. It feels like a promise, so meaningful that it makes your breath catch in your chest. It’s a moment before you both come up for air, but when you pull back he’s looking at you like he’s trying to memorize everything about the moment.

“Yeah,” you smile at him, easy and unhurried. “I could get used to this.”

#f1 x reader #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #f1 imagine #oscar piastri x you #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #ok. off to bed NEOWWWWW #❀ my work .

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mggslover · 24 hours ago

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TIED TOGETHER — aaron hotchner

In which you find a creative way to show Aaron the new tie that you had ordered for him.

genre smut (18+) cw perv!hotch, established relationship, sexting, sending of explicit content, male masturbation, slight exhibitionism, sexual tie references (the clothing item) wc 1,4k a/n quick lil drabble in between my studying sessions

Aaron Hotchner is absolutely and utterly infatuated with you. He seems like a gruff, stoic leader but turns into putty whenever he’s around you. He often excuses himself in meetings or walks up to an empty hallway in the location the team is visiting when you send him a text or give him a call. The team always suspects it’s business, but no, it’s you. And when it comes to you, he will always pick up, no matter the time or place.

Most of the time it isn’t an emergency. And most of the time it isn’t objectively necessary to swipe his finger to the right, opening the call. But he can’t help himself. Not when he knows it’s you on the other side of the line. Sweet you who’s calling him as you take your evening walk, sweet you who wants to put him on speaker as you drive to work, sweet you who needs to listen to his voice as he bids you goodnight.

But sweet isn’t the only thing that you are. And there is no one like Aaron who knows how naughty you can be.

So the next events shouldn’t have surprised him.

“Your ties have arrived,” your voice sounds through the speaker. He can picture the way you’re balancing your phone between your ear and shoulder, a box full of ties in your hands as you make your way to your bedroom.

“I faked your signature if that’s alright.”

He chuckled at that.

“That’s alright, thank you. You can leave them on the bed; I’ll be home tonight.”

An excited squeal followed, “Thank God, it’s been too long.”

He agreed with your statement, then asked you how you were, but you didn’t answer. Instead he heard some faint shuffling in the background.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting on this tie, the silk navy one,” you answered.

A memory flashed through his mind: how he was lying down on the couch, your figure seated between his legs, head resting on his chest as you had his laptop placed on top of your lap. You were looking through several websites, finding new ties to order. Your eye had immediately landed on a silk navy one, tracing the fabric with your finger over the screen.

“You know what else this tie will be perfect for?” You had purred to him, resulting in him groaning as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, showering you in kisses and bites.

It was a common bedroom activity you like to participate in: using ties. The two of you made a creative team, finding ways to use his ties as handcuffs, as blindfolds, and even as chokers. And what material could be better than soft silk?

“Check your text messages. You can stay on the call,” you instruct him, bringing him back to reality.

Maybe he should’ve thought his next action more through. Maybe he should’ve told you No, I’ll check it when I have the time. When I’m not standing in the corner of a busy police station. But he didn’t. Simply because it was you who asked.

He exited the call to go to his messages, for a second afraid he had hung up on you, but then he heard your voice again. “Go on.”

To say that you had knocked the breath out of his lungs was an understatement. There, opened on his phone in full screen, was a picture of you. You were standing in front of the mirror, only your upper body showing. Completely bare, besides… his tie.

The navy blue tie decorated your neck, tied perfectly due to the many times you’ve helped him. Aaron looked up for just a second, seeing his colleagues and police busy themselves in chatter, not focused on him. Still, he turned around, shielding himself as he held his phone in a tight grip, like he held the most valuable possession known to man in his hands.

He swallowed when he took another glance at the picture. Cock swelling as he took in your hardened peaks, the soft curve of your breasts, the way the silk fell down in between them.

“Earth to Aaron,” you spoke after not having heard a sound besides his heavy breathing for the last minute.

“I have to go.”

Call ended.

-`♡´-

Maybe you’ve gone too far. You sit on the edge of your shared bed, letting out a disappointed sigh as you play with the tie around your neck. Worst case scenario he gets home tonight and will punish you.

The idea sends an excited jolt to your core. But instead, not even a couple of minutes later, you receive a text message from Aaron.

With scrunched eyebrows you open the app, seeing the loading screen of a video. You can vaguely make out some colors: mainly white, and a warm beige color reminiscent of his skin. Then you take in the text that’s attached to it: Had to go to the bathroom while I’m supposed to give a profile in five. Don’t do that again.

Before you could question his message further, the video pops up in HD, fully loaded. You click on the play button.

The white turned out to be a toilet, making sense with his bathroom text. The beige turns out to be his hand, and as the video starts playing, you connect the dots.

Aaron groans, palming the obvious bulge in his pants that’s visible now that he’s adjusted the camera. Your heart stammers as he unzips himself, hands so skilled that holding his phone in the other hand doesn’t slow him down. His slacks fall to his knees, and his thick cock jumps up with a slap against his button-up.

Your throat turns dry as he grips himself in his fist, wrist flicking in slow circles as he moves his hand up and down his length. It felt so intimate to see. He didn’t speak to you, needing to be quiet. He didn’t acknowledge that the video was for you, even though you knew it was. It truly felt like catching him in a private moment of pleasure.

Precum spilled out of his length, and he caught all of it with his thumb, coating the slick around the head in the same way he usually covered your lips before pressing the rest of his thumb into your mouth. You moaned at the sight, and it seemed like Aaron had the same mental image in mind, groaning as he fisted himself harder.

You held in your breath and turned the volume of your phone up to the max, wanting to catch every sigh and whimper that escaped his lips. He fucked his hand; wet sounds of his fist making contact with his stomach filled the room. He couldn’t lessen those sounds, not if he wanted to keep up this pace, and by the way his breathing was getting heavier, he did not want to slow down.

“Honey,” he groaned, and your cheeks heated. He was thinking of you.

His hand moved faster, at a speed you weren’t sure you could recreate: up and down, up and down. You’re wondering what he’s picturing, if he’s imagining you on your knees in front of him, tits on display like they were in the picture, tie around your neck as you’re sticking your tongue out, begging for his release.

He moaned your name, and again, and again, until his cock twitched. White, hot ropes of his release spilling out. Some of the droplets are falling into the toilet, like he had intended, but having built up his release for days not being with you and not having had the time to get himself off, he’s adorning his hand, the seat, and even the floor.

“Shit,” he mutters, catching up after his mind is getting clear.

Then the video ends.

Thanks for the show. Don’t forget to ask Reid for some cleaning wipes ;) You text him, stifling a giggle, enjoying getting a reaction out of him.

The video replayed in your mind, and you bit your lip. Your legs were crossed, subconsciously trying to alleviate some of the building pressure, not able to wait to get off to that video later on.

Like the devil had heard you, you received a text back.

Funny. Don’t forget that you’re not allowed to touch yourself until I’m home ;)

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #hotch smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner fic

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vorfreudevortex · 3 days ago

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Green with Envy

more levi x blind!fem!reader cw: 2.8k words, cussing, jealousy, a little angst, a little comfort tldr: three times levi let his jealousy unravel find more silly levi drabbles in my masterlist <3

There were three times Levi let his jealousy truly unravel.

The first was long ago in The Underground, after Furlan and Isabel came around. It was one day where Furlan came to your room in the brothel to wait for Levi to get back— Something he needed to talk about with him, he said. It wasn’t unusual for this to happen, and you were always happy to have him around, to fill up the empty room with some chatter and noise.

You were even younger and more naive than you are now, a teenager with almost no experience of the The Underground, let alone the real world. You didn’t like to venture out more than you had to, Levi didn’t either, with all the crime and violence that occurred in the dirty streets.

And of course, you couldn’t see the longing glances and silent expressions Furlan wore around you and behind Levi’s back. Everyone knew you and Levi weren’t together, but Furlan still knew he couldn’t be caught with these pining feelings for you.

Furlan couldn’t help it, really. Your kind eyes always tried to hazily study his face, always asking how he was and if you could help him with anything. He liked the way your hair reflected the lamplight, and it wasn’t long before your pretty smile started to send aches through his chest as well.

He had brought you a flower from Mitras that he had somehow got his hands on that afternoon. As soon as you caught a bleary glimpse of the bright green stem and felt the soft, velvet petals, you threw your arms around him while gushing your thanks. The next thing he knew, a blushing Furlan was pressing a quick, stolen kiss against your innocent lips. You stared at him with your own flushed cheeks in surprise, and that’s when the door swung open.

Furlan was frozen. As he stared over at a glaring Levi, he swore the black-haired boy’s eyes turned red and steam blew from his ears.

“Furlan…” Levi’s voice came slow, low, and rough. “Let’s go.”

Levi beat the shit out of Furlan in an alley a couple blocks away. You saw the bumps and bruises on Levi’s fists and Furlan’s eye when they returned later, neither making the effort to hide what happened.

And no one ever spoke of it again.

+++++++++++++++

The second time was after the annual military ball you attended with Levi.

Year after year, you were always his plus-one, and he’d help you pick out the prettiest dress and fix your hair just the way you liked it for the big night out. Levi didn’t care for these events, but you looked forward to it every year so you could spend an evening drinking and dancing away in a fancy gown, so he bit back his complaints and let you stay as late as you wanted.

It was deep into the night when Erwin asked him to meet privately about some sensitive information, which Levi reluctantly agreed to after setting the runts from the 104th up to dance and keep you company, promising to never take their eyes off you. You didn’t know about his little ploy, but was delighted to get to know them all and dance with the adorable young men either way.

While Levi was hunched over secret papers and files in Erwin’s dark office, it left an opening for an unassuming, retired Scout by the name of Carlo.

“Excuse me,” The man had tapped on Jean’s shoulder. “May I steal this young lady away from you for a dance?”

Jean’s confident demeanor, which had turned flustered from constantly stepping on your toes during your twirling, suddenly seemed surprised and awkward. So, he gave your hand to the man’s and disappeared. It was a bit uncomfortable for you at first, having a stranger’s hand on your waist as he guided you smoothly around the dance floor, too nervous to protest it all. But, you quickly learned through polite conversation that Carlo was as courteous and respectful as he was brave.

There was a moment where Carlo asked who you came with, and then backed away when he heard Levi’s name. After a rushed explanation of ‘No, we aren’t together’, his hand was back on your waist and your skirt fluttered around his legs as he spun you around. After the dance, Levi was no where to be seen and you didn’t want to admit that you had no idea how to get back to your seat… so Carlo kindly escorted you out to grab some fresh air and a break from the busy, overwhelming noises of the ballroom.

Levi’s heart dropped when he scanned the room and you were no where to be seen. The runts from the 104th had no idea where you went, so he promptly chewed them out and promised a punishment later, and went to scour the halls. He was about to let himself start panicking when he checked the front steps of the Survey Corps Headquarters, where he saw you clutching onto some bastard’s sleeve as he held his elbow out for you.

Your back was facing Levi as he stood in the shadows, allowing himself to read the situation for a moment before lashing out to scold you for disappearing. You weren’t alone with the man, a retired Scout that Levi recognized and had spoken to offhandedly a few times, but surrounded by other drunk soldiers who were smoking and chatting away on the stairs. The two of you made quiet conversation, nothing inappropriate. But, what irked Levi the most was the honeyed smile on your beautiful face and how you slightly leaned into Carlo.

He waited until the conversation lulled, then called out your name. You turned around in surprise, then let a giddy smile replace your expression as you recognized Levi’s familiar voice. He took your arm from Carlo and set off to walk you home, against your protests to stay and dance a bit longer, and while almost completely ignoring the other man.

Levi said nothing about it to you— It was over and done with. It’s not like you were truly his anyways… Until a while later when you mentioned that Carlo had accidentally stumbled into the tavern during your shift, stayed a while to chat, and walked you home. After that, Carlo started coming around the house sometimes.

Well, sometimes turned into more, and more turned into a lot… and a lot turned into all the fucking time.

Levi denied and denied it, never asking about him, and only getting details when you’ bring something up. He just about burst into fucking flames when Carlo showed up at the front door one evening with a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, asking for Levi’s permission to officially court you and take you to Mitras some extravagant, unnecessary dinner.

“I’m not her father,” Levi had responded, trying to stop his eye from twitching and relax his clenched jaw. “She can make her own decisions. I don’t care.”

Levi had to close his eyes and hold his breath the evening you came home from that dinner, gushing about stupid fucking Carlo and more stupid fucking flowers and that stupid fucking meal after he safely dropped you off. He absolutely despised how chivalrous and reverent the guy was— He couldn’t even pinpoint a single inappropriate touch or comment from him, even after all the times he had to suffer through Carlo’s visits to you.

He suffered for weeks. Levi tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t last, that Carlo would break your heart eventually over something idiotic like your lack of sight or status, and he’d get to be to one to comfort you after the heartbreak. He tried to convince himself that Carlo was just a skirt-chasing bastard trying to get under your dress, tried to convince himself that it would all go away in due time…

…But it just got worse.

Levi was beginning to lose his fucking mind. Lying restlessly awake one night as his mind toiled over you, he suddenly realized that if you and Carlo kept on like you were, a marriage proposal was absolutely imminent. It was obvious that Carlo didn’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, that the shithead was just as infatuated with you as he was himself.

Levi had a migraine for two weeks straight, his left eye twitched uncontrollably whenever he thought of either of you— The poor guy even contemplated praying to the Walls about it. He started to get desperate, a strange feeling that Levi hadn’t felt in years.

After being teased by Erwin and Hange about it one day over paperwork, Levi had suddenly had enough. He stomped out of the room, duties still undone, and rushed home. He was over the pining, the yearning, the jealousy, the constant stress.

If Levi had to finally admit his hidden feelings for you after all these years just to get the fucker to disappear, then so be it! He couldn’t take another fucking second of it, ready to wield his blades against Carlo if it came down to it— Anything to never have to see his face again.

When Levi arrived home, he found you sitting in your garden, alone on the bench as the sun disappeared over the walls. He was about to blurt it all out when he noticed the solemn look on your face as you looked on toward the sky.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, Levi,” You greeted him softly, your voice not as excited as usual. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Liar.”

You shuffled uncomfortably. “It’s nothing serious…”

“What happened?” Levi couldn’t hide the small bit of panic in his voice as his mind ran through every possible situation that could have made you upset. His pulse was already racing, the anxiety and nerves making the worry about you worse.

“Well… Carlo…” You began, and Levi’s heart plummeted. “…I don’t think he’ll be coming around anymore.”

“What the hell did he do?” Levi demanded. “Tell me now. That fucker—”

“—It was my doing, Levi. Relax, okay?” He watched your mouth turn into a sheepish smile. “I just got back from dinner with him. It was great, actually it was amazing. But when he dropped me off, he… well… he finally kissed me for the first time.”

Levi’s blood quite literally started to boil and bubble from the innate rage that suddenly coursed through him.

“Don’t get me wrong, it was so romantic…” You rushed to explain. “But, it just felt… odd? I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t feel a single thing. No butterflies at all.”

Suddenly, Levi’s heart rate was back to normal, and his rage transitioned to quick relief.

“So, I- um… yeah. I ended things with him.”

“…Are you serious?” Levi couldn’t cover the disbelief in his tone. Levi didn’t really believe in luck, but now he’s seriously considered it.

“Of course, Levi!” You scolded with a pout. “And I just feel awful about it! He probably was saving up the courage to kiss me for so long, just for me to break up with him no more than a minute afterwards. I’m terrible, just terrible. I think he’s far more torn up about it than I am, but I just couldn’t help but blurt it all out after realizing that… maybe we weren’t meant to be.”

Levi let out a breathe he had been saving, along with the string of dreaded love confessions he was just about to let tumble out. He quietly sat down on the bench beside you, letting your skin warm his side as you slowly tipped your head over to rest it on his strong shoulder.

“Levi…” You whispered, eyes brimming with tears. “Am I a bad person?”

“No,” He answered promptly, closing his eyes and slowly letting his chin come to rest on your hair. “You did the exact right thing.”

Levi hoped you took his words as a reassurance instead of a sort of… possessiveness or insecurity about the relief of the breakup. You were much smarter than that, though.

You smiled, and neither of you spoke of it again.

+++++++++++++++

The third time was long, long after.

Levi sat on the side of the room, tense hands gripping the armrests of his wheelchair, watching Onyankopon spin and throw you around the floor to the quick beat of the music with his one good eye. Your delighted shrieks and giggles filled the room while the bright red fabric of your skirt flared and fluttered in a mesmerizing blur.

He felt guilty. And alone.

Out of everyone among the crowd in the noisy bar, he was the only one who couldn’t dance with you.

Even after knowing for years how much you loved it, he never spun you around like that, and now he never will. He brought you all the way across the sea to a better, safer life in Marley, where he’d never have to leave you again.

But what was the point if he couldn’t even love and live for you the way he desired? The way you desired?

Levi was quiet for the rest of the night, anxiously picking off the labels from his beer bottles while he watched you take turns dancing with Onyankopon, Falco, and Gabi while the night wore on. It just made it worse, soured his mood further with each song, but he couldn’t stand to look away. The tipsy blush on your cheeks was impossible to ignore, same with the toothy grin that never left your face, and the adorable way you dizzily stumbled after a particularly rowdy dance.

Eventually, the others walked you home, leaving the two of you alone in the new apartment you shared along a quiet street that reminded you just enough of Paradis not to hurt. Scout was waiting by the door when you entered, greeting Levi with a quiet meow and a strong nudge against his foot.

“What’s wrong, Levi?” You asked softly. “I can tell something’s off with you.”

Levi had promised himself to be more candid since you came, refusing to hold anything back from you any longer. He still hesitated for a moment before answering you slowly, still uncomfortable with the vulnerability of it all. “I’m… jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“I can’t dance with you like that.”

Levi watched your eyes turn from curious to sympathetic in the soft light of the new, electric lamp he bought a few months ago in preparation for your immigration here. He was almost a bit embarrassed now, having to admit to something so dehumanizing yet obvious, even though he knew you would always be the most understanding.

“It’s okay, Levi. You don’t need to dance with me to make me happy.”

“I know,” He paused again. “I just wish I would’ve done it before. Back when I could.”

Both of you stopped for a minute, two minds rolling through past memories. Ones of that creaky old house, forest green cloaks, and even back to the musty, dark city under the dirt where it all began.

“Well…” You started cautiously. “We can still dance.”

Levi was about to scoff at you, tell you not to be so naive. He swallowed it as you walked over to the phonograph, gently letting your hands run over the vinyl and feel where to set the needle. It was your first and favorite purchase of your own after moving to Marley, after crying in amazement and joy when you heard the recorded music filter out of Onyankopon’s for the first time.

Quiet, lilting notes flowed from the bronze horn, a slower song you played constantly on sleepy afternoons. Levi never took his eyes away as you delicately sat yourself in his lap, making sure not to put your weight on the spots that make him ache. Your arms hooked around his neck, and your nose buried into the crook of his shoulder.

Immediately, Levi’s hands came to hold the back of your head and body, pulling you in impossibly closer as he breathed in the scent of your hair and the kneaded the plush of your waist.

Levi closed his eyes, letting his senses fill with nothing but the music and you. Your bodies started to lightly sway back and forth to the tune, subtle and calming.

He’s never felt so full before.

There was absolutely nothing more he could ask for as he held you tight, feeling the comforting warmth of your breath against his neck. He listened to you faintly hum along, his heart damn near bursting at the seams at the compassionate way you loved on him.

“We can always dance together, just like we are now,” You whispered in his ear when the song ended, another slow one starting to replace it. “Still jealous?”

Levi pressed his lips against your temple, then let out a long exhale while letting his body fully relax— A foreign feeling that he didn’t start truly experiencing until your arrival in Marley.

“No,” He answered. “Never again.”

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kquil · 2 days ago

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REMUS LUPIN | 19:53 — BARISTA BOYFRIEND

SUM. : you suddenly gain a boyfriend after a beautiful but annoying creep flirts with you

TAGS : barista remus ; cafe regular reader ; modern au ; muggle au ; fluff ; very fluffy ; everyone loves hot chocolate ; remus makes great hot chocolate ; protective remus ; secret pining ; creepy but beautiful stranger

LENGTH : 1.4k

NAVI. | MORE REMUS

You’re a regular at a coffee shop that serves a variety of blends, so much so that the air almost always smells of ground coffee and is only slightly entwined with the sweetness of baked goods. However, you weren’t a regular for their coffee or treats, you were a regular for their hot chocolate, made by a specific barista.

“Hello again,” Remus (the barista in question) greets fondly as you come up to the counter, ready to order. He’s a tall brunette with a gorgeous smile and a talent for making hot chocolate. “The usual?”

“Only if it’s you’re making it, Remus,” you chirp, smiling up at him as he chuckles—it still astounds you that you’ve become such a regular customer that you’re comfortable calling him by name. You note the incredible length of his lashes as they brush against his cheekbone and admire the faded scar marking his jawline. He’s the perfect model-looking-barista archetype that pulls in customers with a simple glance, and you’re embarrassed to admit that you were one such weak-willed individual: shyly stepping into the cafe for the first time without anything in mind to order until he suggested the hot chocolate, and you were hooked ever since.

“Of course, I wouldn’t let anyone else touch your hot chocolate, love.” It makes your heart flutter every time he calls you that fond endearment, and you’re sure he knows it too—he probably calls all the lady customers by that name. But no matter what you tell yourself, you weren’t just there for the hot chocolate… “Would you be interested in a sweet treat to go with it this time? Everything’s baked fresh,” he gestures to the array of baked goodies on display, and you try not to drool at the selection openly. Remus has made this offer so often that you don’t think it’s simply him trying to generate more profit for the cafe anymore. But because of his consistent assertions and soft eyes, you finally cave, worn down like the cliff edge by the ocean, sending you crumbling down and into its depths. “I’ll make sure to give you a discount.”

“Alright, alright.” Side-stepping, you lean over to inspect the display case and the delicious array of treats it holds. “It’s kind of a hard choice…”

Remus laughs and nods in understanding, “I don’t blame you. Please take your time, it’s a slow hour.”

Despite his reassurance, you continue to struggle and soon get anxious over not having made your pick yet. “Do you have any recommendations?”

“Of course!” Stepping away from the coffee machines he preoccupied himself with, Remus gestures to his personal picks, “If you want to satiate that sweet tooth more, you can’t go wrong with our chocolate chip cookies. But if you want something a little less sweet to go with your hot chocolate, our all-butter shortbreads are also a good choice.” With his help, you’re finally able to choose and watch as he selects the biggest, most delectable-looking one in the display—you try not to smile too hard at that; he’s the sweetest. “I’ll have your hot chocolate ready for you soon, love.” Not only did he give you a discount, but he didn’t charge you a single penny.

“Thank you so much, Remus.” He sends you away with a charming smile and your plated treat. When you eventually choose a window seat, you decide to wait until your hot chocolate is done to indulge in your snack pairing and take to observing the city scene outside.

With a sigh of gratitude, you quietly thank the cafe walls for providing you with such peace. This has become such a safe corner for you in the city that you couldn’t believe you survived so long without it. And it was all thanks to glimpsing Remus’ gorgeous face and sweet nature by chance. The memory made you want to giggle, but you’re soon pulled from such thoughts by the obnoxious clearing of a throat beside you.

When you turn, you find the source to be the most annoying man you’ve ever met, already introducing himself and quickly beginning to ramble obnoxiously. (What did he say his name was?) He had an ethereal type of beauty with his pale skin, grey eyes and midnight-black hair, dressed in leather like a biker from the 80s, but with a voice that itched your brain in the worst way possible. Was he trying to flirt with you?

“I’m sorry?” you ask, just to be polite and also to test if this guy was being serious or not about his brazen behaviour.

“Oh, don’t be sorry, dollface~” he leans in uncomfortably close, “I know I’m a looker, so there’s no need to be shy, you can look at me all you want—all day long if you must.” The stranger flutters his lashes at you, and you swear that you have the most confused and aghast expression on your face. You’re staring at him like he’s grown two extra heads, but he doesn’t stop and continues with his ‘flirting’. “Anyway~ I’m a looker and you’re a looker, why don’t we be lookers together and go for a date?” he wiggles his brows with a smug smirk on his lips, and you try your best not to gag, giving him enough breathing room to continue without an answer. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Before you could respond and politely try to shoo him away, a dark, coarse and almost familiar voice answers for you from where it looms over your figure, “Yes, she does,” Blinking in surprise, your voice gets stuck in your throat with your breath when you look over your shoulder and up to find Remus with a menacing look on his face, one that you couldn’t believe he was capable of ever expressing.

“You’re her—”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Remus reaffirms matter-of-factly, and you try to pretend that your face doesn’t feel like it’s suddenly been set on fire as he turns his icy glare from the stranger and onto you. The instant his eyes met yours, Remus was back to his kind and gentle self, with an additional warmth in his gaze as he placed your hot chocolate on the table in front of you. “Here’s your hot chocolate, my love.” He gently presses his nose against your hair and allows his lips to lightly brush against your temple. “I’m sorry it took so long…I had to redo it.” You don’t know what happened—still spiralling from the dreamy scene happening around you—but the creepy man dressed in leather quickly scampers off.

Breathing a heavy sigh, Remus sinks into the unoccupied chair next to you. “Th-thanks for that Rem–” to your embarrassment, despite the justified reaction, you let out a small yelp when the barista in question takes the leg of your seat and pulls you closer, his thighs spread apart so you could be as close as possible. When your head was a few inches from his chin, he dropped his forehead onto your shoulder.

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable…”

You wait until your heart rate slows to a normal pace before answering, smiling softly at his considerateness, “I wasn’t uncomfortable at all, not by you at least. Thank you for saving me, Remus.” It was quite adorable how soft he had become, nuzzling into your shoulder to apologise. You couldn’t help but think that he was like an affectionate dog trying to act sweet to express its regret, which you were very weakhearted for. Unable to help yourself, your hand comes up to gently comb through his hair—you can’t believe how soft it is!

“No. I didn’t save you.”

“What do you mean?”

“...You have to deal with me now…”

OUTTAKE :

“Remus was so mean, Jamie! And after the sacrifice I took for him!” Sirius whines as James rolls his eyes and shares an amused look with Lily, who sips at her tea while his arm slings over the back of the sofa behind her. “I was only trying to get him together with his lady! It was a success, but I can’t believe that this is the ‘thanks’ I get! Me! The perfect wingman, but glared at, like I’m some sort of villain!”

“Perfect wingman, more like perfect creep—”

“Not you too, James!” Sirius shouts, the agony rich in his voice and falls back into his loveseat dramatically, as if struck by an arrow, “I can’t believe you would mock my genius acting like that!”

“Get over yourself, Sirius.” Lily comments, hiding her smirk behind the lip of her teacup. “What matters is that Remus is finally with his favourite regular.”

“Yeah~ Get over yourself, Sirius~” James teases mockingly, narrowing his eyes at his friend, still smirking in amusement before he drops the jeering facade. “Moony’s with his lady now, ain’t he? He’ll stop giving you the silent treatment soon enough”

Sirius huffs, arms crossed, “I never get any praise around here! A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice!”

NAVI. | MORE REMUS

A/N : god...i missed writing for sirius XD and remus and james too of course! it's been a while since I've written a timestamp but i hope you darlings enjoyed the read hehe~

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders

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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 2 hours ago

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Late to the party to reblog as always, but GOD, HAPPY I HAD THE TIME TO INDULGE IN THIS MASTERPIECE. This might be one of my new favourites from your Zae!! (even if I say so every time LMAO)

You know how downbad I am for solo Arthur. For utterly frustrated Arthur, taking matters into his own hands. Oh God this was perfect. As aways, I'm caught right from the beggining:

Channeling the self-control of a brigade of soldiers, Arthur willed his unruly cock flaccid as he left the post office.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is how you open up a perfect fic 😂😂. Seriously, though, I loved how you gave some context about their relationship in a light way, not too much info dumping, but just enough to understand Arthur's point of view. Looooved this passage

Every time he passed by the quiet homestead, he found himself lightly pulling on Boadicea’s reins and scoping out something to fix. Your ways of showing gratitude, like a hug or kiss on the cheek, turned his neck to shades of crimson, yet he’d still come knocking again some time later. On his last visit, you were dragging him to your room by cotton suspenders, mouth attached to his before he could get a word in. An innocent lamb you were not—he was sure of it now in a half-daze, hypnotized by your breasts as you bounced on top of him. Matter of fact, you must’ve been a witch or a succubus; he’d never felt so used, drained, and perfectly satisfied.

I was wondering if I could use the word succubus a few days ago for my own writing, and I'm very grateful you showed me that yes indeed!! I love how he's all yearning here, not doing anything explicitly to win her over but just coming back every time. I could totally picture him do that. And oh yes, yes, yes, he deserves to be drained like that 😏😏

And of course, the heart of the matter is absolutely brilliant and delightfully written.

Fuck, he wanted to rip that photographer’s head clean off his shoulders for capturing you like that, but goddamn, he wanted to shake the man’s hand too. This slip of paper was a slice of heaven on Earth.

I laughed sm at this!!! I can totally imagine him getting all jealous the photographer saw her nude but being so grateful at the same time, confused boy 😂. Also please, just the fact tha you managed to transcribe sexting and sending nudes to fcking 1899 is MASTERFUL Zae!! I'm in awe as always!!

I had a dream about you. Do you ever dream about me? The bulge in his pants begged for attention, and he appeased it, palming himself idly while his eyes stayed trained on the photograph. He’s too old and weathered for this—pining over some girl and touching himself like he’d gotten a second wind of puberty.

I love how you start it slow. Two simple sentences, and he's gone. And I'm too, to be honest 😤

His cock sprung free, twitching and yearning. Flicking his eyes to your photo once more, his right hand moved on its own, kneading his leaking tip. He peeked over the edge of the paper, watching precum drizzle down his shaft, imagining it was you leaking around him.

*sighs*. Click. Bzzzzzz (seriously this is a fucking treat to read Zae. Thank you for writing and sharing your magic with us mortals.)

Also, the part when he wishes for more photos; sooo hot of course (loved how he would even provided money for it eheh) but also, the need to have a proper one? What a perfect way to show his need for actual love and affection on top of lust. This is an incredible "show don't tell", I'm on my knees rn.

Jesus all the parts about Arthur being eager in her dream, I was MELTING Zae. The way you wrote him reacting to specific sentences and parts is just so perfect. I'm repeating myself, but it was just incredible to read and so vivid and interactive, even if we're still just readers. I don't know why and how but I felt so involved!

I get the feeling that you do a lot of taking care of other folks and don’t get that in return. Am I right? I’d take care of you, Arthur. I’d keep your belly full and drain your balls all in a night. They tightened at the thought, and his hips were a piston now, going up and down on their own accord.

See? Stuff like this. It's absolutely wonderful. I was SO turned on I should be ashamed!!! And oh, that part with the necklace 😏🔥 Very very clever once more. And so erotic! You bet your ass he's an excited mess. What a tease!!

And oh, the climax. His climax. Our climaxes. This had the effect intended, dear, I've been way too much impacted by it.

Don’t think me too crass, but do you touch yourself to my letters like I touch myself to yours? Yours are more well-mannered than mine. But still, I wonder, is your fist wrapped around your cock? “Yes, darlin.” Goddamnit, he was talking to himself now, arm cramping as he pumped feverishly at his engorged dick, his orgasm waiting to explode behind his eyes. Do you imagine it’s me instead? I wish it was me. I wish I was on top of you again, milking you for everything you’ve got. Would you give it to me this time, Arthur? Would you spill inside of me? And spill he did, teeth gritted and grunting, as hot ropes of lust spurted out over his hand. Once again, he’d made a mess of himself on account of you.

This was too good Zae. I won't recover from this one until a long time 😮‍💨I was in the same state as him honestly, this wrecked me 😂

And the last line, so light and fluffy. Our dear baby, always longing and yearning. Perfectly wrapped!

What can I say more? One of my favorite fantasies to read, written by one of my favorite authors?? What more could I've asked for? Thank you so much for this incredible piece Zae!!!

Causerie

Summary: You send Arthur a letter. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word Count: 2,185 Tags: Male Masturbation, solo handjob, mentions of oral and unprotected p in v, dirty talk, long distance relationship, high honor Warnings: 18+ MDNI

an: So this came out of nowhere LMAO It's a bit different from what I'm used to, but I ran with it. The mentioned photo was heavily inspired by @sir-walton-goggins's under-the-cut sketch of their OC, Kris Blake. 😍😍😍 I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

Causerie: an informal conversation

Channeling the self-control of a brigade of soldiers, Arthur willed his unruly cock flaccid as he left the post office. An envelope addressed to Tacitus Kilgore in familiar dainty cursive teased him from inside his satchel. The nagging twinge in his gut could only be satiated by his fist wrapped tight around himself in the solitude of his tent.

He didn’t know how he’d make it through the rest of the day without losing his sanity. Once you’d unknowingly planted the seeds, his thoughts of you grew wild and untamed like the weeds at your feet. He’d never seen something so ridiculous—a woman in her day dress, the lacy hem stained with dirt, trying to repair a loose fence post on her own.

“No man ’round here?” he had asked, holding his hand out for the hammer.

“There is now.”

You beamed, your smile stunning him like a camera flash. Unbeknownst to him, that grin was a brand, marking him as yours for a long time to come.

An innocent lamb you were not—he was sure of it now in a half-daze, hypnotized by your breasts as you bounced on top of him. Matter of fact, you must’ve been a witch or a succubus; he’d never felt so used, drained, and perfectly satisfied.

And guilty, too. He couldn’t even look at you as he confessed to his life of criminality, finally admitting what he’d come to tell you in the first place. After this job, he was leaving for good.

To his surprise, you didn’t put up a fight—just wished him well—and dammit, that made him want you even more. You didn’t follow him outside—only watched from under the blanket as he said his last goodbye and promise.

“I’ll write t’you.”

Receiving your letters kept his heart ticking and dick aching. What started as a pile of polite notes quickly transformed into a library of erotica. His hands trembled in anticipation as he opened the latest letter.

Dear Arthur,

Are you still alive? I hope you haven’t gone and gotten yourself killed. I’m sorry if I kept you waiting. A new photographer opened up in town, and I stopped by the studio one evening just before he closed. I may have batted my lashes and stood a little too close when I asked for his help. A special photo of me would be the perfect gift for my dear husband, who was about to be shipped away to war in the Philippines. You should’ve seen how red he got when I dropped my blouse. I tried to sit pretty. Did it work?

A photo? Arthur checked the discarded envelope, searching for the supposed gift. A small photo was still tucked away in the envelope. He took it out and held it up to the lantern to get a good look.

Christ.

You were directly in the center of the camera with a lazy smile on your face. Pearls adorned your neck, and velvet cloth draped over your shoulders, just barely covering those twin humps on your chest. Fuck, he wanted to rip that photographer’s head clean off his shoulders for capturing you like that, but goddamn, he wanted to shake the man’s hand too. This slip of paper was a slice of heaven on Earth.

And for what he was about to do with it, he was going straight to hell. Setting the letter aside, the gunslinger undressed down to his union suit with the ardor of his twenty-year-old self. As he settled back onto the cot, he locked on to your sultry eyes and sighed contently.

I had a dream about you. Do you ever dream about me?

The bulge in his pants begged for attention, and he appeased it, palming himself idly while his eyes stayed trained on the photograph. He’s too old and weathered for this—pining over some girl and touching himself like he’d gotten a second wind of puberty.

But he couldn’t help it. Even after deafening gun fights and vicious animal attacks, he’d find a letter to re-read, and now he had this picture to accompany his fantasies. His gaze shifted from the photo back to your words on the page.

We were in this beautiful room in a palace or someplace like that, swimming under blankets. It was far from my humble bed, but it felt like paradise.

If only you knew, that little bed was his paradise.

Dream you tasted like whiskey and ash and smelled like leather and gunpowder. I don’t think it was too far off from the real thing. We weren’t wearing any clothes, of course, and your head was tucked between my thighs.

Breath shaking, his hips shifted upward, the memory of your thighs on either side of him overwhelming his senses. Arthur sucked in his bottom lip and didn’t waste any more time undoing the bottom two buttons of his union suit. His cock sprung free, twitching and yearning. Flicking his eyes to your photo once more, his right hand moved on its own, kneading his leaking tip. He peeked over the edge of the paper, watching precum drizzle down his shaft, imagining it was you leaking around him.

Oh, Arthur, I could feel your lips on every part of me at once, kissing up my stomach, bosom, arms, thighs, legs, all over. But when you found my lips again, I don’t know how my pounding heart didn’t suck me out of the dream. Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are or how heavenly your hands feel? And your back, Mister Morgan, is like a brick wall. How I wish I could’ve dug my nails into it.

Arthur’s fisted pace quickened as he stifled a groan, trying his very best to keep the sounds of his sin quiet. He urged himself downward into the cot, hoping the friction could mimic the sting of your nails dragging down his spine, but it was no use. Tightening his grip in frustration, he turned his attention back to the photograph of you. He wanted to study your hands, to imprint them in his mind’s eye so he could imagine them scratching his back and pleasuring his cock.

But the photo was too close up, only your face and a peak of your breasts captured at that moment in time. Would he be too brazen to ask for another? To request a pose? Hell—he’d stuff the money in an envelope with a list of the depraved positions he’d like to see you in. Your hands on your bust, legs spread open, on all fours, one with your pretty fingers in your mouth, and a full body shot with just the pearls. Dammit—he’d kill for it.

But then, at the very end of the list, he’d ask for a respectable one. One of you with your hair pinned up under a fancy hat, dressed in your finest, wearing a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet with your hands folded politely over your lap. One that was sweet and proper. One that he could tuck in his journal, frame, or pin up on the wagon. One that he could take out in broad daylight and pretend, just for a moment, that he really was that war vet admiring a photo of his loving spouse.

His hips moved involuntarily again, jutting up into his fist—the placeholder for the pussy of the woman he’d one day make his wife.

I didn’t plan to get you in bed that night, as unbelievable as that may sound. You were just so damn handsome and so so kind. I couldn’t help it. I needed to know how you’d feel inside me. I hope you don’t see me as just some Jezebel.

“No,” he gasped out. Wet sounds of his strokes accompanied his declaration.

I really did and still do have feelings for you, Arthur. It’s quite scary, actually. Maybe that’s why my dreams about you are so vivid? I realized just how much I cared that night, looking down into your eyes. I don’t take you as the type of man to just give yourself away on a normal day like that, so I hope you feel the same way as me. Did I ever say thank you? Thank you for being such a giver. I have a tendency to take, take, take when I’m on top, but you got payback in my dream. You had me pinned under all of your weight, damn near suffocating me. It was the good type, though. When you pushed into me, I forgot all about it. I never took you for an eager man either, but you were drilling me into those blankets with the fervor of a threshing machine. Are you an eager man, Mister Morgan?

He answered in shallow pants, twisting his fist around his length and rocking his hips.

I have a curse of waking up right when I’m on the edge, so as you can imagine, I had a wet problem to take care of. My fingers just don’t quite do it like you. I wish we could’ve had more time together. I get the feeling that you do a lot of taking care of other folks and don’t get that in return. Am I right? I’d take care of you, Arthur. I’d keep your belly full and drain your balls all in a night.

They tightened at the thought, and his hips were a piston now, going up and down on their own accord.

I know you’d never ask because you’re too nice, but I’d get on my knees for you and take care of you in that way. I’m sad we never got to try it, that I never got to taste you. The thought gave me the silliest idea. Are you looking at my picture? Imagine that pearl necklace is your spend on my chest.

Jesus—the perverted imagery hit him like a train. He looked at the pretty pearls atop your chest. Goddamn, minx.

Don’t think me too crass, but do you touch yourself to my letters like I touch myself to yours? Yours are more well-mannered than mine. But still, I wonder, is your fist wrapped around your cock?

“Yes, darlin.”

Goddamnit, he was talking to himself now, arm cramping as he pumped feverishly at his engorged dick, his orgasm waiting to explode behind his eyes.

Do you imagine it’s me instead? I wish it was me. I wish I was on top of you again, milking you for everything you’ve got. Would you give it to me this time, Arthur? Would you spill inside of me?

And spill he did, teeth gritted and grunting, as hot ropes of lust spurted out over his hand. Once again, he’d made a mess of himself on account of you.

Shame crept in as he floated back to reality and stared up at the canvas of his tent. He brought the letter back to his face to read the last paragraph. The least he should do was finish it—dirty old bastard. But when he landed on your words and processed them, he was left with a numb, longing ache in his chest.

If we were together, I’d help clean you up, then maybe we could spend the rest of the night all tangled up in each other. I’m sorry I’m not there to touch you for real, but I hope these letters bring a little light to that hard, lonely life of yours. If I can make you feel good, even from far away, that’s enough for me. I miss you. Any chance you could come see me soon?

Yours.

Arthur sighed and folded your letter back up neatly, tucking it away in his now hollowed-out copy of Rambles Through Woods and Plains. Though your photo and letter were out of sight, his mind refused to wander from the subject of you.

An assortment of motion pictures flickered in his memory: the way your head tipped in laughter at his dry sarcasm, how you so graciously welcomed him to that sitdown meal, the way you worried about him just as much as he worried about you, and how your words, even from afar, brought him unmeasurable comfort. Making it back across the Upper Montana could be a brutal fight, but he’d outrun the law and take a few bullets if he had to. He’d bare it all to bring you back with him.

As he relaxed into the cot, another thought drifted by, small and almost weightless like a dandelion seed in the wind: maybe he wouldn’t have to bring you back at all. Perhaps he could stay right there with you.

#Zae is our queen #I'm fulfilled #and wrecked #wonderful moots writing #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #rdr2 smut #zaefic

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lazysoulwriter · 2 days ago

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you've GOT to be kidding me. - pedro pascal.

specially requested! thank you for sending, hope you like it, love.

---

The first time you got pregnant, it had taken months of tracking apps, fertility tests, and quiet heartbreaks. So when your daughter was born, a chubby, sleepy miracle who preferred Pedro’s chest as her pillow, you both assumed you had time. Time before thinking about a second. Time before your life shifted all over again.

So yeah, you weren’t being reckless, just… human. Tired. In love. Closer than ever. And maybe a little too confident that history wouldn’t repeat itself so fast.

Which is why now — sitting on the cold bathroom floor, face against your forearm after your third round of throwing up that week — you absolutely refuse to admit what Pedro is starting to suspect.

He kneels beside you, gently rubbing slow, grounding circles on your back. “Breathe, baby. I got you.”

You groan. “Maybe it’s a bug. Or something I ate. Or—”

Pedro interrupts softly, “When was the last time you got your period?”

You blink.

“Pedro, no.”

He laughs under his breath. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s just—! I just had a baby.”

“You had a baby three months ago,” he says gently, like he’s afraid you’ll float away if he says it too loud. “And I remember very clearly that we haven’t exactly been cautious lately.”

You bury your face in a towel. “I’m thirty-six. I’m tired. I’m breastfeeding. This shouldn’t be possible.”

He’s quiet for a second. Then you hear him murmur, almost to himself, “You’re glowing though. Just like last time.”

You stare at him.

“I threw up on your sock, Pedro.”

“Romantic,” he teases, leaning in to kiss the top of your head. “Let’s just… take a test, okay?”

You agree only to shut him up.

And that’s how you end up in your shared bathroom twenty minutes later, holding a stick with two pink lines, while your newborn daughter babbles in the background from her bassinet.

You sit down slowly on the edge of the tub, stunned.

Pedro peeks into the room, half-expecting to be scolded. “Well…?”

You hold up the test, eyes wide.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then he grins. “Oh my God.”

You shake your head, a bit dazed. “We’re insane. We’re insane people.”

He walks over, kneels in front of you again, rests his forehead against your knees. “We’re insane. And apparently very fertile.”

You burst into laughter, the kind that feels like the only possible response to this whirlwind. You’re terrified, still tired, still healing — but when his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and he kisses you like it’s the easiest thing in the world, you remember that this is your home now. This life. These two babies. This man.

Pedro looks up at you, eyes sparkling. “You think we should just keep having one every year? Start a band?”

You smack his arm. “You’re never touching me again.”

He winks. “You said that last time.”

And somehow, through the chaos, you both just start laughing. Loud and real and maybe a little scared — but together.

---

escrevi essa aqui com um sorrisinho no rosto o tempo todo, juro. obrigada demais a todas as leitoras brasileiras que tão por aqui lendo, surtando e comentando — vocês são tudo pra mim!! espero que tenham curtido esse caos romântico com o pedro tanto quanto eu curti escrever 💌

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augustsblossom · 2 days ago

Note

Hiii 👋🩷 I would like to request a Mark Grayson fic where he’s like unnaturally warm because he’s half viltrimite and he uses his hands as like a heating pad for reader who is suffering from cramps

Just like super fluffy cuddles and sweetness

Take your time bestie and thank you for writing for this fandom 🩷🩷🩷 (there really aren’t enough Mark fics😭😭😭) 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

THIS IS SO CUTE STOOOPP AND thank you so much!! There fr isn’t enough so I’m rolling up my sleeve and getting to work

── ── ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ── ──

˚ ༘ *ೃ⁀➷ main! Mark Grayson x afab! reader

˚ ༘ *ೃ⁀➷ a/n: I appreciate the requests you guys have been sending me! This is very self insert lowkey so if you don’t like horror movies or pumpkin scents just imagine what you do like! This also is in NO WAY reader intentionally being a bitch to the sweet boy like I said I’m projecting and I get snappy when I’m on mine </33 inbox me if you guys have ideas ily! <3

˚ ༘ *ೃ⁀➷ CW: fluff!!!, She/her pronouns aren’t used but reader does get periods lol, reader is cranky when they’re menstruating (I’m self projecting), mark just puts his hands on readers lower stomach, mark is very patient and reader feels bad lolol

˚ ༘ *ೃ⁀➷ IMPORTANT: constructive criticism is encouraged! I’m always looking to make my fics better or to make it more enjoyable for you guys so if there’s anything I can do or fix, comment or inbox me! I want to make it as best as I can for yall <3 it’s also not proofread again I’m hoping you guys can uncode what it means

˚ ༘ *ೃ⁀➷ taglist: @realmcflurry1 (lmk if you wanna be in the next one!)

── ── ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ── ──

So like, imagine a semi full of bricks coming at you full speed right, but instead of crashing normally it crashes RIGHT into your lower stomach and puts it all there

Oh and with that imagine a doctor has a handful of needles and they just shove it all in your uterus…

Yeah you are DONE FOR BABEEE

But hey at least you have your super sweet geeky boyfriend to help with that right!!

It’s hard for him to be a superhero but it’s hard when you don’t have your boyfriend around!

Cecil has him working to the damn BONE and he will not give that poor boy a break!

So of course you feel bad when you start having an attitude and getting snappy at him, but no one blames you for it you’re in so much pain!!!

Mark finally had a day off where he didn’t need to be “invincible” for a day, you loved it so much but you hated it landed on a day your period started

Those cramps were KILLING you and they hit like a damn lightning drop ok it was horrid but Mark was there for you!

He recently just got back from a store trip you asked him to make, getting you chocolates, chips tampons and pads (he made the “what size pussy you wear 😂” joke and you didn’t laugh so he apologized and said it was cringe, you’re never forgetting it)

He walked in your shared room with the bags in hand a warm smile on his face

“Hey pretty” Mark says softly, sitting the bag on the bed and kissing your forehead as you’re curled up with the blanket covering to your nose

You open your eyes slowly and look at him

“Hi.” You said shortly, kind of side eyeing him but like not in a trying to in a bitchy way you’re just in pain yknow?

Anyways, he gave you a bit of a confused look then left to change into a shirt and sweats. He came back shortly and laid in bed next you

“Wanna watch something? Netflix added new horror movies!” He said with enthusiasm

“I don’t care, we can watch whatever.” You say shortly again.

Good god the patience that man had for you was INSANNEEEE. He would never be this patient with anyone else, especially Cecil and even sometimes Debbie, but he had so much for you, you just felt terrible.

He softly said okay and put on your favorite. After laying in silence for a moment, your back was still facing him when you asked

“Mark…”

“What’s up?”

“….do you hate me even though I was being mean”

Marks brows furrowed as he looked towards you

“Huh?”

You turn to look at him with literally the puppy dog looking eyes and a frown on your face

“I’m sorry. I was being so mean I just don’t feel well and everything hurts so bad and it’s not your fault and I love you so much and never want you to leave me I hate being mean I’m so-“

Okay babe you can shut the fuck up now he gets it.

He let out a giggle, pulling you closer to him and pepper kissing your face

“I understand, you don’t have to explain yourself. I can’t imagine how bad THAT kind of pain is but I don’t blame you at all for it. I also can never hate you, you’re too cute for that” he pepper kisses again

After your little giggle sesh he pulled you even closer so you were caged in, your face against his chest

“If you’d like I can help you with those cramps”

You nod slowly and he turns your entire body so now your back is facing him. He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you with one hand on your stomach and the other right above it

His hands were…unnaturally warm. I mean as half-Viltriumite you kinda get that but you loved when he used his powers not only for fighting enemies

The sudden warmth on your stomach made you comfortable, and it was a plus that Mark was cuddling with you too, so forget that heating pad! You have a Mark!

Mark fell asleep first (of course) and you followed shortly after. The burning pumpkin candle blew out on its own after a while, and the movies end credits rolled. The sun was setting and temperature of the room plus you and Mark made everything perfect

Mark does make the doomed week truly better.

#invincible #invincible x reader #invincible smut #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson smut #mark grayson

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