#the rest of the cast is so much stronger than me

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 7

Ao3 | 2.7k Words | Darlin's POV

Milo is a drill Sergeant. Darlin' gets some emails. Angel washes dishes. Quinn is the type of asshole that flirts with teenagers.

TW: Stalking, threatening behavior, vomit.

“You’ve gotta put on some weight.” Milo tutted, his hands resting on his trim waist. Even two years later, Milo was a picture of petty tension. He hadn’t grown, despite the fact that he claimed people could grow into their mid twenties. He had built up a good deal of muscle in his back and chest, which served to make him look just a little bigger. He still had an air about him that made him seem two feet taller, even when you stared purposefully past the top of his head to piss him off.

Milo had started working you out as soon as Sam had given you the all clear, after you gave up on trying to avoid him. He was faster than you when he wanted to be, and staying away from him was so much less fun than just giving in to the familiarity of your quiet, playful arguments. 

The workouts started slow; annoying, silent yoga, something his partner had gotten him into that left you infuriatingly loose and relaxed afterwards. Once you could do that without panting and twitching with pain, he moved up. Light cardio and weights. You’d managed alright with that. Your stamina was shot but you were strong. Now, Milo had moved on to C.P.A.T. specifics. 

You’d passed the Candidate Physical Ability Test with flying colors the last time you’d taken it, but that felt like a lifetime ago. You were younger, stronger, fitter. What came to you naturally at eighteen made you wheeze at twenty-seven. Milo cast his gaze across the practice course before cutting those clever eyes back to you and your sorry state.

“There aren’t any weight class requirements for the physical.” You snapped. 

“No,” Milo replied, “but you’re not gonna get through the endurance test like this. You’re gonna fall out.” 

“I guarantee you I won’t.”

“Put your money where your mouth is, doll.” 

“Call me that again and I’ll knock your teeth out.” 

“Twenty?”

“Fifty.”

You won, just barely. Milo had a point, though. Running that course in full turnouts, hauling that ladder, scaling it, finding the hidden dummies in the fake building’s facade and hauling them back down, dragging the dummies and the ladder back the safe distance requirements; it was nearly too much for you. By the time you’d finished the run, you were gasping for breath, gripping at your protesting ribs, and dumping the dummies at your feet without a care for their ‘wellbeing.’ That part wasn’t new. It was a habit from your days as a probie you couldn’t shake. This time, though, it was done with some extra disdain. 

Milo clapped a fifty in your hand and let you catch your breath before he tugged off your turnouts, up your tank top, and pressed his thin, clever fingers into your flesh to check your ribs. 

“You’re gonna make me blush.” You gasped. Milo sneered. 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed if you don’t give your body what you need. You have to eat to heal.” He shook his head, dark curls bouncing this way and that. You patted him on the head the way you knew he hated. 

“You’re preaching to the choir. David’s already working on me.” 

“He’s got the patience of a Saint.” 

“No, he’s just force feeding me.” 

“Good.” 

You were eating three square meals a day, all packed with protein and healthy fats and carbs. Whenever David wasn’t putting out fires, both literal and figurative, he was cooking. He put more plates in front of you than you could manage in a day. It was the biggest bulk you’d experienced in your life, and even it was falling short of what your body needed. To be completely fair to David’s efforts, your body had always run on fumes. There had never been enough to go around. You had gotten used to making that work. 

David surrounded you with abundance. The tension of your sort-of-fight had eased. He had started asking you questions. They were uncomfortable, and you were finding it harder and harder to dodge them. 

You were going to spill your guts soon. You could feel it crawling up and out of you. You were going to lay down your load at David’s feet, unburden yourself through clenched teeth and let him take the weight. You’d done it with Gabe. David looked so much like him. 

You hit the showers, scrubbing the sweat from your skin. The cold tile made your toes curl. The lines of your tattoos were raised with cold and irritation from the cheap body wash that was stocked in all of the shower stalls. You ran ghost-soft touch over all of them before moving on to your scars. The one over your side, the newest one, was still pink and new. If you pressed hard enough on the two inches of clean, stitched skin, it still hurt. 

David caught you in the locker room as you slipped a D.F.D sweatshirt over your head. You’d slowly moved your meager belongings from your shitty studio to the last locker in the row at the 10-19. David had offered you plenty of his own clothes, but you didn’t like to wear them. Not the way that his spouse did, anyway. The little Shaw slid one of his giant tee-shirts over their head and wore it like a badge of honor, like a mark of ownership. You didn’t own David. You certainly didn’t plan on letting him own you. As it stood, the majority of your wardrobe was either covered in blood or stolen pieces from the D.F.D.’s lost and found. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, pushing your still-wet hair away from your face, “are you done, do we need to go?” 

“No,” David shook his head. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants. “I’ve got a few more hours. Look, I reactivated your D.F.D. email account. There’s a form in there for the next C.P.A.T.. Fill it out sometime today.” 

“Okay.” You nodded. “When is it?” 

“Three weeks.” David said. “I can get you back on the job within forty-eight hours if you pass it.” 

“If?” You grinned. “I recall holding a record with my last one.” 

“Yeah well,” David shrugged, “you were a spring chicken then. We’ve gotten old.”

“Speak for yourself, Shaw.” You flashed teeth. “I could still kick your ass.” 

“Email. Form. Today.” David barked. You could tell, somewhere in your gut, that he was joking just as much as you were. 

“Yes, Captain, sorry, Captain.” You clicked your heels together in a salute as he rolled his eyes and retreated down the hallway towards his office. A smile slid over your face as he left you alone in the cold, quiet locker room. 

You D.F.D. email had two-thousand-and-seventy-three unread messages waiting for you once you’d managed to remember the password. You flopped down on a couch in the bunk room and sighed as you clicked into the newest one, skimming the form to sign up for the C.P.A.T.. Something about filling out that form, going to that test, made your chest hurt. It made all of it, being back here at the 10-19 feel… real. That was a dangerous thing for you. You couldn’t explain why. 

November was drawing towards a close. The cold had long settled over Dahlia and into your blown, shitty joints. You could do the C.P.A.T., you could not do it. December would come on either way. 

You clicked out of the form, out of the email, and back to your inbox. Maybe you’d feel more inclined to carry on with your future when all of the spam messages were gone. 

Spam. Advertisement. Debt collector. Spam. Medical bill. Spam. 

You almost swiped it right into your archives when your eyes caught on the subject line of a message from an email address consisting entirely of scrambled numbers and letters. That was usually enough for you to chuck the whole thing as bullshit. The subject, though, made your heart squeeze. You sat up on the couch, your feet hitting the ground. You needed your boots flat on the floor. You needed your legs under you when you read this. You might need to run. 

Back home so soon, Precious? 

Bile rose up in your throat, acidic and cutting. You swallowed hard and clicked on the address’s icon. Copy, paste, the address went into your search bar and twenty-odd unopened messages popped up. 

California state employees’ email addresses all followed the same formula. Last name, first initial. It would be so easy for Quinn to find it. 

You scrolled down to the earliest message and opened it up. The subject line made your hands shake; I’m never far behind, you know.

It was a picture of you from sometime in September. You were still black and blue from the fight you two had devolved into. You were standing in a gas station somewhere in Washington, staring at two different, overpriced painkiller options. You’d killed that bottle in less than a week. 

You’d known, in your gut, that Quinn would follow you when you ran. You hadn’t noticed him. You thought for sure, if he was that close, you’d have noticed. 

It was more of that. A picture of you in a diner, flirting with the waitress who gave you free pie. A shot of the back of your head in a Greyhound bus heading for California. You through the stained, narrow windows of your shitty apartment. 

Sam and his EMT’s leaving the night you’d been stabbed. 

Sam’s truck in the firehouse parking lot. 

Sam at lunch in a plush restaurant with a handsome man in his mid-forties. 

Sam sitting on the porch of his cabin, coffee cup in his hand. He looked so peaceful, his eyes closed and head tilted back against his rocking chair. 

Vincent in his fancy car, kissing who you assumed to be his partner in a school parking lot. He’d mentioned that they worked in an elementary school. 

Sam’s Probie walking towards a nightclub, their arm linked with a drop-dead-gorgeous man, surrounded by friends. 

David outside of a fire, smudged with soot, directing the scene like a conductor. 

Little Shaw standing at the sink, scrubbing the remnants of dinner from a plate, taken through the slots in the pantry door. 

He had been inside David’s house. He had stood three feet away from them and taken that picture. He was close enough to hear the little songs they hummed to themself whenever it got too quiet. 

You locked your phone, stuffed it into your pocket, and moved. You barely made it to the bathroom before you lost your lunch. 

He could get inside the house. He had gotten inside the house. There was no telling how long he’d stayed there. He could be there right now, waiting in the shadows for somebody to pass by and make an example out of. You had to tell David. You had to make them leave, had to put them both somewhere safe and torch the fucking place. It was tainted. He’d been in there, and it would never be safe again. 

Hands shaking, you replied to that last picture, staring at their tiny frame and estimating how long it would take Quinn to subdue them. Seconds. He could kill them in seconds. 

What do you want? 

The response was almost instant. 

You. 

He attached an address. You didn’t need to punch it in anywhere to know it. Max’s was familiar ground. The house ordered from there more than anywhere else, and Gabe’s accident had been just down the road. 

It got dark early this time of year, and by the time you emerged from the bathroom, the sun had set and night shift had invaded the building. You could smell dinner on the stove and hear the chatter of the house through the walls. If you hung a left, you’d be surrounded by them. You could find David, ask him to talk. He would know what to do about Quinn. He would handle it. 

Quinn was dangerous. David could handle himself, but Quinn fought dirty. David couldn’t win against him, not playing by the rules. 

No, you had to handle this yourself. David was already in danger, his spouse too. Quinn liked to aim for the weakest link. He liked to strike where it was easy to do real damage without taking any injuries himself. That’s where he’d hit you. The only way you’d learned to make him back off was to hit him head on, to not even give him the chance to find your weak point. 

He knew you just about as well as you knew him, of course. You’d have to hope he wouldn’t call your bluff. You’d have to hope he wouldn’t smell the terror rolling off of you in waves. 

You retreated away from the noise, from the sounds of your house, and towards the ambulance bay. You could sneak out the backdoor, have it out with Quinn, and be back before David was any the wiser. You gripped your hand into a fist as you shrugged on your jacket and shouldered open the back door. 

“Darlin’,” Sam’s voice called from inside. You stilled, boots just barely on the icy sidewalk outside. You turned, your hands still fists at your sides. Sam’s uniform collar was unbuttoned. He must have been getting off shift. “Where ‘ya running off to?” 

“Mother hen.” You muttered bitterly. Sam smiled anyway, seeming almost… bashful. “Just going on. Meeting somebody. Shouldn’t be long.” 

“Well, I’m off.” Sam reached inside to grab his jacket off the rack. “Let me drive you. It’s cold as all hell.”

“I’m fine.” You shook your head and stepped back. “Really.” You did not want to introduce Sam to Quinn. You didn’t want Quinn to make any assumptions. You didn’t want Sam to hear the things he was going to say to you, about you. Whatever you were, whatever parts of you Quinn had broken, whatever parts of you had always been broken, Sam didn’t know about them. You didn’t want him to see you and all of your broken parts in the naked light.

“Is it… um… are you going to see him?” Sam squinted at you, his jacket still in his hands. You swallowed. Your poker face crumbled. You’d never been a good liar. 

“Sam,” you started, hands clenching and unclenching. 

“I’ll take you.” He said decisively. You blinked, surprised. You were expecting him to try and talk you out of it. 

“You… you’ll take me?” 

“I’m sure as shit not letting you go alone.” Sam grinned like it was such a ridiculous notion that it was funny. “Come on, we can talk on the ride.” 

You were quiet for most of it, your throat constricting over all of the warnings and defenses you desperately wanted to spew. Instead, you answered each of Sam’s questions steadily, one word at a time. 

“How’d he reach you?” 

“Email.” 

“And he followed you here?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So he knows where to find ‘ya if you don’t go to him.” 

“Yeah.” 

“He’s liable to start a fight?”

“If not him, then me.” 

“And he fights dirty?” 

“He brings guns to knife fights, let’s put it that way.” 

“I understand.” 

“Do you?” You turned to him from the passenger seat, your face pinched and twisted in concern. Your teeth worried over the scar on your top lip. Sam’s eyes caught yours, brown gone red with the street light. 

“I do.” His shaking fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an awkward, unsteady rhythm. “Better than I can put into words.” 

The parking lot outside of Max’s was full this time of night, so Sam parked across the street. You spotted him through the wide, bright windows. Quinn had taken up a booth at the back of the small restaurant. His feet were kicked up on the table, shitty, worn boots smearing dirt across the clean surface. He was flirting with the teenage server who was refilling his coke. She blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The guy behind the counter was eyeing the two of them nervously. Anybody who had ever known an asshole before could see right through Quinn if they tried hard enough. That was why he had to flirt with teenagers. 

Quinn turned suddenly, stiff and aware. His bright, blue eyes caught yours through the window. His face split out into a terrible, toothy grin as he beckoned you inside.

[athenascrows]

I don’t even blame hook for falling for emma after one kiss like I would too whatever my green eyed goddess wants!

[sushiyuzu]

belly bliss

warning: wholesome fluff — you're pregnant and soft!sylus helps to lift up your heavy belly <3

zayne version

the sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the cozy room. the air was filled with the comforting scent of fresh coffee, mingling with the faint aroma of pancakes cooking in the kitchen. you shuffled slowly, feeling the familiar weight of your eight-month pregnant belly pulling at your back, causing a dull ache to settle in your lower spine.

“hey, love,” sylus called out from the kitchen, his voice warm and inviting. you could hear the clatter of pans as he flipped the pancakes, a sound that always made you smile. “you coming to eat?”

“i’ll be there in a minute,” you replied, taking a moment to stretch your back and shift your weight from one foot to the other. the discomfort had become a constant companion, and today felt particularly heavy. you took a deep breath and decided to take your time.

as you finally made your way into the kitchen, sylus turned to greet you, his face lighting up with that endearing smile that always melted your heart. he was wearing an apron, and the sight of him in it made you chuckle.

“you look adorable,” you said, your voice teasing but full of love.

“just trying to impress my beautiful wife,” he replied, winking as he plated the fluffy pancakes. “i figured you’d need some extra energy today.”

you stepped closer, resting a hand on the counter for support. “you know me too well,” you admitted, a hint of gratitude in your tone. “my back is killing me today.”

sylus’s expression shifted to one of concern. “here, let me help.” he stepped around the kitchen island, moving closer to you. before you could protest, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, his hands gently cradling your belly.

the warmth of his body against your back was comforting, and you sighed in relief as he lifted your heavy belly slightly, easing the pressure on your spine. “how does that feel?” he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

“so much better,” you murmured, leaning back into him. you could feel the tension in your body begin to melt away as he supported you, his touch gentle and loving. “thank you.”

“always,” he replied softly, his voice laced with affection. “you’re carrying our little one; it’s the least i can do.”

as he held you, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. the world outside faded away, and it was just the two of you in this moment. you could hear the soft sound of your baby’s heartbeat, a reminder of the life you were nurturing together. the warmth radiating from sylus made you feel safe and cherished.

“i can’t believe we’re going to be parents soon,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of excitement and anxiety. “it’s so surreal.”

“i know,” sylus replied, his tone thoughtful. “but we’re in this together. you���re going to be an amazing mom, and i’ll be right there with you.”

you turned your head slightly to look at him, your heart swelling with emotion. “i’m so grateful for you, sylus. i don’t know how i would manage all of this without you.”

he kissed the top of your head gently, his grip around you tightening as he whispered, “you’re stronger than you know. and together, we’ll figure everything out.”

after a moment, he slowly released his hold, helping you stand upright again. you turned to face him fully, appreciating the way his eyes sparkled with love and admiration. “now, let’s eat before it gets cold,” he said, motioning toward the table. “you need your strength.”

you both sat down together, and he served you a generous portion of pancakes, pouring syrup with exaggerated flair as you laughed. as you ate, you could feel the love in the air, a warmth that wrapped around you like a soft blanket. it was moments like these that made you realize how lucky you were to have sylus by your side, sharing every step of this journey together.

after breakfast, sylus helped you clean up, his hands brushing against yours as you worked side by side. every touch, every shared glance, filled you with warmth. he made the mundane feel special, turning ordinary moments into cherished memories.

“i love you,” you said suddenly, feeling the urge to express your gratitude once more.

“i love you more than words can say,” he replied, his voice steady and sincere. “and i can’t wait to meet our little one.”

you shared a smile, knowing that no matter how challenging the days ahead might be, you would face them together—hand in hand, heart to heart.

[effervescentcvnt]

imagine teasing your tentacled spellcaster monster partner all the time when you go on a date: you’re wearing skimpy clothes that show more skin than they cover, not to mention that you aren’t wearing any underwear. you’re constantly touching them just a little bit too close to their sensitive spots “on accident” and whispering naughty things in their ear in public. you want to make them go wild with lust until they snap and have their way with you.

“keep this up and you’ll be in a world of trouble when we get home,” they warn you, their voice low and raspy. 

you look into their eyes, feigning innocence. “what’s ‘this’? i’m not doing anything,” you reply, grinning inwardly because you know that they’re already getting riled up because of you. 

as the two of you are sitting at the restaurant, you let your foot brush up against theirs under the table and then drag it upwards towards their crotch. that almost makes them drop the glass of wine that they were holding and they shoot a heated glare at you as you smile back softly. because of their keen senses, they can smell your arousal as your slick drips onto your clothes. you continue tormenting them all throughout the night, pressing the sole of your shoe against their crotch and rubbing slowly, licking the dessert off of your spoon in a way that is certainly too lewd for a public setting and bending forward in your seat so that they can catch a glimpse of your chest as you’re talking.

when you finally go back home, your beloved monster is fuming, sexually frustrated and ready to ravish you. they’re so much bigger and stronger than you so it’s easy for them to pick you up and throw you on the bed. they’re on you in an instant, their tentacles firmly pinning you down against the mattress. 

“is this what you wanted? to tease me until i have to punish you?” they growl.

you shake your head in disagreement, all while knowing that both of you have agreed on a certain word that’ll stop everything if you truly don’t wish to continue. “it was just supposed to be a bit of fun! don’t punish me, i’m sorry!” you yelp.

“oh, you will be,” they snarl.

before you even know what’s happening, they cast a spell on you, a glowing brand in the shape of a heart appearing just above your pubic hair. the symbol warms your skin, the familiar heat of arousal settling between your legs.

“what the fuck did you do to me?!” you shriek.

“you’ll see,” they simply say, malice apparent in their voice. they bend down, smiling at you with their sharp teeth flashing in the dim light of your bedroom. they lick at your lips with their long, forked tongue, urging you to part them. the moment that you do, they plunge their tongue in, giving you a sloppy, wet kiss that makes you moan into their mouth.

your partner is blessed with both a pussy and a cock, and they intend to use you thoroughly to sate their every need. they press your head against the pillows and mount your face, and immediately you begin working them over, kissing and sucking their clit and occasionally teasing the opening of their pussy with your tongue as their heavy cock rests on your forehead, already leaking precum. their tentacles hold you down, immobilising you, rubbing every sensitive part of your body at once. they grind their hips and let out breathy, appreciative moans when you pleasure them with your mouth and soon enough, they whine in ecstasy and they squirt all over your face, drenching you in their juices.

they manhandle you into a mating press, first slipping their lubed fingers inside you, stretching your hole and preparing you for their cock. you’re already hoping for an orgasm as they split you open on their cock. after they’ve worked their cock into you fully, they ravage you fast and hard, panting in pleasure. all you can do is lay there wrapped up in tentacles, eagerly sucking on your  fingers when they explore your mouth. you can feel your orgasm approaching fast, and just when you are about to fall over the edge, you… can’t. the pleasure keeps cresting, yes, but you cannot finish. you whimper in confusion and wiggle your hips although you cannot move much. your partner notices your distress and chuckles at your predicament.

“the spell i have cast makes it impossible for you to cum,” they explain. “you’ll only be allowed release if or when i decide that you’ve been punished enough.”

you howl when you slowly comprehend their words. “please no, please let me cum! agh- i’m sorry for teasing you! i’m sorry, fuck, please stop, release me!!” you beg but your pleas fall on deaf ears.

your monster’s cock still pounding at the sweetest of your spots and you’re sure that if they were to pull out, your hole would gape. their tentacles stroke you in a loving way that creates a sharp contrast to the rough fucking yet the pleasure they bring is unbearable.

it’s absolute hell, to be kept there with no release in sight while your darling beast uses you for all you’re worth. you can feel your hole throbbing, and you’re leaking everywhere, making such a mess of yourself. the torture is seemingly endless, and your partner ends up pumping load after load into your fluttering, denied hole. they kiss you again, all tongue and teeth, their unnaturally long tongue thrusting in and out of your mouth. it feels as if your lower body is on fire, and the unending stimulation has you constantly feeling like you’re ready to explode yet you can’t. your tummy bulges with both their thick cock and the amount of cum that your beast has spilled inside.

they’re not completely heartless, though, and eventually they release you from their spell. 

they spoil you with countless orgasms until you’re drooling and your eyes lose focus, mercilessly ripping your pleasure from you.

when you’re done, they clean you up gently and offer you a snack and water, making sure you're okay. they wrap their arms and tentacles around you, holding you close to them as the both of you drift off to peaceful sleep.

[racetowrite]

Devoted to you

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader

Tags : overstimulation, safe word, uprotected piv (fuck them kids), afab!fem!reader

Word Count : 2.9k

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself surrounded by the comfort of Lando's strong arms. The warm sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. You snuggle closer to him, relishing in the feel of his body against yours.

Lando stirs slightly as you move against him, and he slowly opens his eyes, a drowsy smile on his face. He pulls you closer, his hand resting on your waist.

"Morning beautiful," he greets you, his voice rough with sleep. "How did you sleep?"

You hum contentedly, snuggling into his chest. "Better now that you're here," you reply, a soft smile on your lips.

He chuckles softly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the bare skin of your back.

"Good, because I missed holding you like this, this month has been crazy without you” Lando says, nuzzling his face into your hair.

You bask in the comfort of Lando's embrace, feeling your body melt into his as he pulls you even closer. You missed this, missed the easy intimacy and the way you always fit perfectly against each other.

"I missed you too, you know," you reply, your voice a soft murmur. "It felt like this month went on forever without you here."

Lando's arms tighten around you at your words, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "I know, I know," he says, his voice filled with regret. "It sucked being away this long."

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair.

He inhales deeply, taking in your scent. "You're so much better than any race," he teases, his lips curving into a crooked smile.

You laugh softly at his words, playfully swatting his chest. "Oh, stop it. You'll make me blush," you retort, though a small blush does indeed color your cheeks.

"Besides, if you really feel that way, you should consider retiring and becoming my personal pillow instead."

Lando grins at your response, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Are you suggesting I give up my high-speed career to become a professional cuddler instead?" he teases, pulling you even closer against him.

"Something like that," you reply with a laugh. "I mean, you're pretty good at it. Plus, think of all the extra sleep you'd get."

You prop yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him with a mischievous smile. "And I'd have you all to myself. It's a win-win situation, if you ask me."

Lando pretends to mull it over, feigning a serious expression as he caresses your cheek with his fingers.  “Hmm, you make a valid point. Being a professional cuddler does sound pretty enticing…“

He grins, pulling you back down on top of him so that you’re draped over his chest. “And the idea of having you all to myself sounds even more enticing.”

For the last month while Lando was away racing, you had found yourself constantly missing his presence. You longed for his comforting smile, his infectious laughter, and the warmth of his embrace. Every night, you counted down the days until he would return.

During this time, you had also been contemplating asking him if you could start attending his races in the paddock. You had been together for 6 months now and yet you had never been to a race before.

The idea of seeing him in his element, surrounded by the fast-paced world of Formula 1, both excited and intimidated you. But you knew how much it would mean to both of you if you were there to support him in person. 

As the days passed, the desire to ask him grew stronger. You mentally rehearsed what you would say, trying to find the right words to express how much you cared about his passion and wanted to be a part of it.

Lando, still holding you tightly, notices the contemplative look on your face. "What's on your mind, love?" he asks gently, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your bare back.

You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully, contemplating how to bring up the topic that’s been on your mind. “Well, I was just wondering…,” you begin, your voice a little hesitant. “I was thinking maybe I could come to your races in the paddock…if you wanted me there, that is.”

Lando’s eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and pleasure flashing across his face. He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“You want to come to the paddock?” he repeats, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Really?”

You nod, a nervous smile on your lips. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice gaining a bit more confidence. “I know we haven’t discussed it before and you might have your reasons for not wanting me there, but…I just really want to be a part of your racing world. I want to see you in your element, to support you in person.”

As you continue talking, a sudden insecurity washes over you. Doubt begins to creep into your mind, making you question whether Lando would even want you there.

You anxiously nibble on your bottom lip, your tone becoming more hesitant. “I mean, if you think I’d be a distraction or if it would be too much pressure… I totally understand if you’d rather I stay away…”

Lando immediately notices the change in your demeanor. He pulls you even closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Hey, no…look at me,” he says firmly, making sure you meet his gaze.

He searches your eyes, his expression earnest. “You’re not a distraction, sweet girl. You could never be. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay away. Your support means the world to me.”

Lando’s eyes soften as he sees the uncertainty in yours. He understands your hesitation and wants to assure you that it has nothing to do with his feelings. He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t want you there. That’s not true at all,” he says, his voice genuine and affectionate. “The truth is, I didn’t bring it up because… I was worried about you getting overwhelmed.”

He sighs softly, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “The paddock can be chaotic and intense. There are so many people, cameras, the media… I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed by it all. I wanted to protect you, to shield you from that side of my world.”

His gaze meets yours, his expression earnest. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you there. I would love to have you by my side, cheering me on. You have no idea how much that would mean to me. I just didn’t want you to feel pressured or to feel like you had to put yourself in a situation that might make you uncomfortable.”

He caresses your cheek again, his touch gentle and reassuring. “But if you truly want to come, if you’re sure you’re ready for it, then you have my full support. Just promise me you’ll tell me if it gets to be too much, okay? “

He leans closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I only want you to be comfortable, love. I care about you too much to let you feel anything other than that.”

Despite Lando’s reassurances and the warmth of his embrace, you can’t shake off a lingering insecurity. You miss him terribly, and a part of you wants to let him know just how much.

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you hesitate, afraid that you’ll come off as clingy or needy. You don’t want him to think you’re dependent on him, or worse, that you’re being too clingy.

Your gaze flickers downwards, fixated on his bare chest, unable to meet his eyes. “Lando…” you begin, your voice soft and hesitant. “I know it’s only been a month, but I…I missed you so much while you were away.”

As the words leave your lips, a pang of vulnerability washes over you. You can feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety, afraid of how he’ll react to your admission.

You continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know it probably sounds silly, but it was just really hard without you. I missed waking up to your smile, being surrounded by your warmth, hearing your voice…”

You bite down on your bottom lip, mentally chastising yourself for blurting all this out. But now that you’ve started, it feels like a dam has burst, and all of your feelings are pouring out.

Lando notices the shift in your tone and the way you avoid looking at him. He immediately understands the gravity of your words. They’re not just a simple statement of missing someone; they’re a confession born out of vulnerability and raw emotion.

His grip on you tightens, his body responding to your confession. He gently coaxes your chin up so that you meet him gaze, his eyes searching yours intently.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice soft yet authoritative. He needs to see your face, to gauge the depth of your emotions. When your eyes finally meet his, Lando sees the mixture of vulnerability and insecurity in your gaze.

He can see the storm of emotions roiling beneath the surface, and it breaks his heart a little. He knew you missed him; of course you did. But the depth of your longing is more intense than he had realized.

Lando leans closer, his touch gentle yet possessive. “You have no idea how much I missed you, do you?” he says, his voice laced with a tinge of sadness. “I ached for you every night. I couldn’t sleep without you, couldn’t focus on anything but counting down the days until I could hold you again.”

Lando’s eyes darken with a primal possessiveness, his voice dropping an octave. “I missed waking up to the feel of your soft skin against mine. I missed the smell of your hair, the sound of your voice… You have no idea how much I need you, love.”

He moves closer to you, his body pressed against yours as he whispers the next words against your ear. “I need you to know that you’re mine. Every inch of you belongs to me, and I’m never letting you go.”

His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips possessively. He needs to feel you against him, to remind himself that you’re real and that you’re his.

“You’re mine. You got that?��� he asks, his voice a velvet-edged command. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Yes, you are. All mine.”

He dips his head, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck and trailing kisses along the exposed skin.

A couple of hours later, you can’t really tell how many orgasms you’ve had by this point.

Lando had started between your thighs, eating your pussy like a man starved, sucking at your clit until you had soaked his face not once, but twice.

He’d barely given you a change to breathe through the aftershocks before he had sunk two of his thick fingers into you, under the guise of stretching you out for his cock. But you know better. You know because he had immediately sought out your g-spot, pressing into it and chuckling like a bastard when you gasped and your hips twitched.

He’d worked you through two orgasms like that, his two fingers turning into three.

Your mind had already been hazy, your vision slightly blurred when he had sunk his cock into you. You were already so sensitive, and the way he had pounded unrelentingly into your g-spot had made it fucking worse. You had sobbed, hips twitching hard, but Lando held you steady, telling you how good you were. Telling you to cum on his cock. Telling you to cum again. 

And you had, clenching around him hard as you shook in his arms. He floods your pussy with his cum not long after that, and you breathe hard, exhausted and ready to wrap yourself around your boyfriend as you sleep like the dead.

But Lando pulls out of you and you feel his cum leak out of your sensitive pussy. And he takes those thick fingers that you hate to love, and pushes it back in.

He stuffs his cum back into your abused entrance, pressing two fingers into you all over again, and you want to scream when he presses them against your g-spot.

“Lando, ah, ‘s too sensitive. I’m so fucking, so fucking sensitive baby,” you whimper, hips attempting to jerk away, but Lando keeps a strong hand pressed to your lower stomach, holding you still as he plays with your messy cunt. 

“C’mon gorgeous, you can give me another one. So good, so pretty, you gotta give me another one,” he mutters, his muscles bulging as he works his fingers into you, ruthless and unrelenting.

He feels it when you cum again, your pussy fluttering softly, and he smiles. “Good girl, baby. Good fucking girl. Another, c’mon. Another.”

You can only whine, tears slowly leaking down your puffy face. You can’t cum again, you can’t. The last one had hurt, a little bit, your stomach cramping up. It feels like he’s ripping orgasms out of you at this point, forceful and violent. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t feel it the way you do. They’re not good orgasms anymore, there’s no satisfaction, only aching.

He leans down to pepper kisses under your jaw, soft pecks that are usually a source of comfort, but not now. Not now. He’s still playing with your g-spot, his thumb rubbing hard circles into your clit. You’re numb, but your body still clenches up involuntarily with another orgasm, and oh god, it hurts.

You’re whining high in the back of your throat, little mutters of “too much, ‘s too much Lan-, oh fuck,” whispered between you both. But he isn’t stopping, doesn’t show any plans of stopping anytime soon, and another orgasm wracks your body, feeling like you’ve been struck by lightning. 

“Red, red, Lando, oh god, red,” you gasp, barely able to fucking breathe. You want to sob in relief when you feel his fingers immediately leave your puffy, abused cunt, but you immediately want to mourn again as his heavy body lifts off of you. His thick hands leave you, leaving you suddenly cold, and you whimper softly.

“Hey, hey,” Lando’s gruff voice filters into your ear, close to your face, but keeping his distance, not taking the chance of touching you when you don’t want it. “Hey, baby, are you hurt? Are you hurting anywhere?” You try to answer, but no sound comes out, your throat sticky and choked. “Just one word, baby, yes or no. Are you hurt?”

“No,”  you mutter, your voice breathy and ruined to your own ears. “Just,” you cough, “hold me?” 

Lando doesn’t hesitate, moving next to you and gathering you up against his naked body, his warm skin a comfort against yours. He’s a little sticky with sweat, but you know that you’re even stickier. You feel wrung dry, the area between your thighs too tacky with a mixture of you and Lando. You’ll need a shower later, but you content yourself with just breathing in Lando’s scent, warm and musky, with a hint of his woodsy deodorant. 

He holds you against him like you’ll disappear, tracing his fingers up your spine as you sync your breathing with his. Neither of you speak, simply existing together as you come back to yourself. You’re not sure how much time passes, only that Lando holds you steady, strong and unyielding in only the way that he can be.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble against his chest, and Lando jerks suddenly, arms hugging you tighter.

“No, baby,” he says, so vehement that you giggle softly. “You never apologize for using the safe word, okay?” You feel his hand come up to nudge your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I am so, so glad you felt safe enough to use it, okay? That took a lot of strength, and I am so proud of you.”

You can’t help how your eyes start to burn at his words, and you desperately want to bury yourself inside of this beautiful, strong, understanding man, and never come out.

“What happened, sweet girl? Just so I don’t do it again, okay? I just need to know,” he whispers, voice cracking just a little bit, and it breaks your heart. You lean up to press a comforting kiss against his lips.

“Just because I can cum multiple times Lando, doesn’t mean I should, okay handsome?” you croak out, and you watch Lando’s brows furrow. 

“You get so hyper-focused on making me cum, baby, and even though that is like, every girl's dream, it starts to hurt after a while, you know?” Lando nods at your explanation, and you smile softly at him.

“You are so, so good in bed baby, but my body can’t really handle that many orgasms back to back. Maybe we can keep it to a maximum of four?”

Lando smooths his hand over your cheek before cupping the back of your head, guiding you into a soft kiss. “Okay, baby, four it is,” he mumbles into your mouth, and you giggle in response, bringing one of your hands up to brush a thumb over his stubbly cheek. 

“I love you Lando,” you whisper, and Lando whimpers softly, almost like he’s relieved.

“I love you too baby, so much. So fucking much,” he says against your lips. He kisses you softly, again and again, chaste and warm and loving.

“You’re too good to me, Lando Norris.”

[stylesispunk]

"You're always on my mind"

Joel Miller x f!reader.

summary: You are Joel's reason to live and he is yours.

word count: 3k

warnings: some fluff and heavy angst.

a/n: I'm still on my writing break, but I couldn't take this one out of my head, so you have it here. I don't want to go into details because it would spoil the whole fic, but this is pretty much based on a movie, and by the name and the song, you may get the idea which one is it. Reblogs and comments are appreciated, so please come here and tell me your thoughts. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Finding such beautiful things in a world like this was not an easy thing to do. In a world like this, there was no spare room for distractions but survival.

In a tarnished world, you were a rose blooming from frozen ground, when neither the coldness of the cryptic winter could end your sweetness.

You were there even when your heart broke at the sight of him, defeated and lost without his Sarah; without the tiny baby he raised, he died in his arms that night of September.

You were there when he became cold, and Machiavellian, a distant ghost of the sweet man with the gleamy brown eyes that smiled at you without a warning, was just off and gone.

And you were broken for him, anxious and afraid of him letting his life go away because the pain of tightening his chest might have been stronger than his love for you.

He was hurting you by hurting himself, and he knew it. He knew he was hurting you; he was aware of the pain he was causing just by looking at your somber gaze, lost in state. Yet he couldn't care or see beyond his own pain. He had lost his daughter and his baby, and he was losing you as you slipped through his fingers.

He had tried to end his life, but he failed. He was going to leave you behind, and he didn’t think about it. He had decided he was going to die and find solace in the thought that he would be reunited with his daughter in a peaceful world while leaving you in a tarnished reality full of monsters and nightmares. Alone with your fears and pain suffocating your lungs. Alone, just by yourself, as if he wasn't the only reason you had to survive.

After the bullet rubbed the skin of his temple, you became silent. You weren’t able to look at the scar marked on his skin, let alone look at his eyes.

And Joel’s heart was constricted against his ribs. Once he failed, he woke up from his trance, and he became aware that he hadn’t been looking after you as he should, but you were silent and you were on his mind.

You weren’t talking, but he knew you were broken because of him.

One day, you were coughing, and Joel's heart contracted against his ribs, and his breath stopped as he listened to your complaints.

"You're sick," he said, looking at you, pacing angrily at him mostly.

Silence.

"You should drink water or

"Or one of those things is going to come after us, I know," you replied without giving a look.

“Do you want to get yourself?"

"Killed? Yes, maybe I do want that." Your voice was motionless, as your eyes kept staring at the flames from the fire flying away to the sky.

"Don't you ever say that; you hear me?"

Silence, defeating silence.

"Answer when I talk to you, please.” He looked for a glimpse of the spark that used to adorn your gaze. Joel's voice trembled with emotion as he stepped closer to you.

"You can't give up," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned away from him, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows across the walls of your makeshift shelter.

“You were going to give up,” you whispered once you weren’t facing him.

Joel's heart sank at your words, the weight of them heavy in the air between you. He reached out a hand, hesitating, before gently resting it on your shoulder.

"I... I know," he admitted, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. "I was lost. I was so consumed by my own pain that I couldn't see beyond it. But seeing you... seeing how much I've hurt you... it's woken me up."

You felt his touch, gentle over your skin, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him. The wounds were still raw, and the pain was too fresh.

"I'm sorry," Joel whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I promise to do better. To be better."

Silence hung heavy between you, but it wasn't the suffocating silence of before. It was a silence tinged with possibility and the hope of redemption.

Slowly, tentatively, you turned to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of sincerity.

"You tried to kill yourself, Joel!" You called out "You are in pain, but I am too! Sarah was mine too; maybe not by blood, but she was my daughter too." You sobbed, not being able to contain the tears from spilling. "You were going to leave me alone. Here and-"

He cut you off by pressing his lips against you, expressing all the love he held on his chest and on his whole body for you.

"I love you; I love you; I love you," he murmured against your lips, recomforting, "I'm sorry."

As Joel's lips met yours, a flood of emotions washed over you: love, sorrow, forgiveness, and hope. His kiss was a silent confession, a promise to be there for you, to fight alongside you, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

Tears mingled with the warmth of his embrace as you melted into his arms, feeling the weight of the world begin to lift from your shoulders. In that moment, you realized that, despite the pain and the struggles, there was still beauty to be found in the love you shared.

"I love you too," you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with emotion. "I forgive you."

Joel pressed his forehead against yours, holding your face in his palms with such a delicate touch. "We keep each other alive," he murmured.

"We keep each other alive," you echoed softly, the weight of his words sinking in.

He kept the promise. He would live for you, and you would live for him; you were each other's reason to stay alive in a mad world.

With time, he let his guard down. Settling in a place like Jackson, in a world like this, it seemed like a dream and a nightmare at the same time. There were people laughing, wearing nice clothes, and sleeping under a safe roof, and yes, it was nice, but Joel didn't want the conformity to ruin his careful routine.

But he couldn't help it. It was impossible to resist his sights in the mornings when the first rays of sunshine peeked through the window, directly at you on your side of the bed. He was astonished by you, by the effortless beauty of your creases and your ends, by your peaceful demeanor, next to the warmth he would provide. 

While his achy bones and silver hair reminded him that he was getting old, you looked the same, as if time and pain never took their toll on you.

"You always do that," you murmured, your voice drained from sleep.

"Do what?" was his question, smiling.

"Staring," you blinked your eyes open, trying to wash your sleep away. "It's creepy"

"I love watching you sleep, so I can remember what you thought the day was."

You chuckled; the sound resonated in Joel's ears.

"Sorry if it creeps you out," Joel said, his smile softening. "I just... I can't help it. You're beautiful, even when you're asleep."

You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching out to tousle his hair affectionately. "You're such a sap, Joel."

He laughed, leaning into your touch. "Maybe I am. But I mean it. You're the reason I’m alive.”

Your smile dropped. “Don’t say that.”

Joel's expression softened, realizing he may have touched a sensitive nerve. He gently took your hand in his, his eyes searching yours with sincerity.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you," he said softly. "But it's true. You've been my anchor through the storm, the light in the darkness. Without you, I don't know where I'd be."

A tiny smile graced your lips as you looked at him, studying his face, the creases on his forehead, and the silver hair growing. Time had hurt Joel, but it made him look beautiful to your eyes, and you felt a sadness within your body.

“What do you want to do today?” Joel asked, smiling at you.

You took a moment to compose yourself, letting Joel's words sink in before responding. Despite the weight of his declaration, you knew his love for you was genuine, and it filled you with warmth.

"I don't know," you replied, returning his smile. "Maybe we could take a walk around the town? It's been a while since we've explored together."

Joel nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "That sounds like a great idea. It'll be nice to spend some time outside, away from these walls.”

Joel didn't like how people ignored him. His protective instincts kicked in as he noticed the way some people in the town seemed to ignore your presence. He tightened his grip on your hand in a gesture of solidarity and support. Even though he knew that you were the only one who could see him, he couldn't bear to see you being overlooked and dismissed by others.

“You seemed tense,” you joked, nudging his neck with your nose as you walked.

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your attempt to lighten the mood, grateful for your ability to find humor even in difficult situations.

“Yeah, well, I hate how people look at me as if I were," he replied, his voice tinged with warmth as he squeezed your hand gently.

“You know why,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before turning his attention back to the path ahead.

Just then, Tommy noticed Joel walking and approached him with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Brother! Where are you off to?" Tommy called out, his voice breaking through the silent atmosphere in Joel’s little world.

Joel glanced at Tommy, offering a small smile in return. "Just taking a walk," he replied, gesturing the way.

Tommy's smile widened as he nodded, noticing Joel’s cheerful humor. "Nice to see you out and about.” He downed his head for a moment. “Are you okay, right?”

Joel looked at Tommy for a moment, waiting for the words to come out of his lips: “Better than ever.”

"Yeah, Tommy, I'm doing alright," Joel replied, his voice laced with false cheerfulness. "Just enjoying the day."

Tommy nodded, though a hint of skepticism flickered in his eyes. "Good to hear, Joel. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."

With that, Tommy bid them farewell, leaving Joel to grapple with the weight of his secret once more. As they resumed their walk, Joel couldn't shake the feeling of isolation that gnawed at him, knowing that no matter how much he longed for connection,.

“Don’t be mad. He’s just worried,” you said, picking up on Joel’s behavior.

Joel sighed softly, grateful for your understanding and support. He knew you were right; Tommy meant well, and his concern was genuine. Yet the weight of his secret still pressed heavily on Joel's shoulders, a constant reminder of the barrier that separated him from the rest of the world.

"I know," Joel murmured, his voice tinged with sadness. "I just wish I could... I’m the big brother.”

You squeezed his hand reassuringly, offering a silent gesture of comfort. Joel found solace in your presence, in the way you understood him without needing words.

"I'm lucky to have you," Joel whispered, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You smiled at him, not speaking more words, and you continued your walk together, hand in hand. 

Once you were outside the walls of Jackson, you led the way. As Joel noticed the surroundings, his apprehension grew with each step. Memories of that fateful day flooded his mind—the pain, the fear, and the aftermath.

"I don't like this place," he said, his voice tinged with apprehension as he halted abruptly in his tracks.

You turned to face him, noting the five-foot gap that separated you. "Please, “you implored, your fingertips gently caressing his cheeks. His eyes closed, savoring the warmth against his skin, oblivious to the tears welling up.

"Love," he murmured, his voice trailing off.

“Please, tell me you still have that sweet love inside you," you pleaded, still tracing delicate patterns on his face.

"You know I don’t," he finally answered, his voice breaking mid-sentence.

As the warmth of your touch withdrew, he opened his eyes, meeting yours with a mixture of fear and longing. Tears shimmered in your eyes, and Joel felt his heart clench.

"It's been a year, Joel," you whispered, but he shook his head, unwilling to accept your words.

"You need to let me go," you urged gently.

"I can't. I don't want to," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Your heart ached as you listened to Joel's words, knowing the depth of his pain and longing. You wished you could ease his suffering; you wished you could erase the sorrow that weighed so heavily on his shoulders. But you also knew that holding on to the past would only prolong his agony.

"Joel," you said softly, reaching out to cup his face in your hands once more.

“I can’t,” he repeated. “This is the only way I can have you,” his tears falling down his checks.

"I can't just let you go," Joel protested, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. "I was so happy that you were mine.”

Your eyes softened with understanding, yet they were also filled with a profound sadness. "I know it's hard, Joel. But holding onto me like this is only hurting you more. You deserve to find peace."

Joel's gaze faltered, torn between the desire to cling to the memory of you and the need to find a way to heal. His heart ached with the unbearable emptiness that consumed him, a void that seemed impossible to fill.

"I don't know how to live without you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours, offering him a silent anchor amidst the storm of his emotions. "You don't have to do it alone, Joel. Let me be a part of your memories, but also let yourself live for the present."

Tears welled up in Joel's eyes, his resolve crumbling beneath the weight of your words. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded, a flicker of hope stirring within his heart.

“Close your eyes,” you told him, grabbing the same hand you had put on the wedding band the day you got married, when the world hadn’t ended.

As Joel closed his eyes, a sense of calm washed over him, knowing that whatever was to come, he was not alone. He felt the warmth of your touch and the gentle pressure of your hand in his, and he let himself be enveloped by the love and comfort you offered.

With a trembling breath, you began to speak, your voice soft yet filled with emotion. "Joel," you whispered, your words carrying the weight of a lifetime of love and memories. "I want you to know how much you meant to me and how deeply I loved you."

Tears streamed down Joel's cheeks as he listened, hanging onto every word and every syllable that passed your lips. He felt his heart ache with bittersweet longing, the pain of losing you mingling with the warmth of your love.

"You were my everything, Joel," you continued, your voice breaking with the intensity of your emotions. "And even though I'm not physically with you anymore, I will always be a part of you, guiding you and watching over you."

Joel's grip tightened around your hand, his chest constricting with a mixture of grief and gratitude. "I love you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

And then, as you finished speaking, Joel felt a shift in the air—a gentle breeze that seemed to carry your presence away. He opened his eyes, expecting to see you standing there before him, but to his dismay, you were gone.

"No," Joel whispered, his voice echoing through the empty space around him. "Don't leave me."

But there was no response, no comforting touch to reassure him. You were gone, leaving behind only the memories and an ache in Joel's heart that would never truly heal. And as he stood there, alone in the silence,.

Ever since that tragic day, when you had died while patrolling with Joel, he had been unable to escape the relentless grip of grief. It was a stupid accident, one he could have prevented if he had been faster, but he wasn't, and he was paying the price.

Right now, every moment and every breath seem to echo with your absence. He had held himself to the memories of your laughter, your touch, and your presence by his side. Everywhere he turned, he saw traces of you. You were there, and he could touch you, but now your goodness fades away with the air. He longed for the comfort of your embrace, the warmth of your smile, and the sound of your voice calling out his name.

But there was silence. He turned around, and with the heaviness in his heart and tears spilling down his checks, he walked back alone to Jackson. This time, there was no reminder of you by his side. Tears blurred Joel's vision as he trudged along the familiar path, the memories of that day replaying in his mind like a relentless nightmare.

But no amount of regret or self-blame could bring you back, and Joel knew that he would have to find a way to carry on without you by his side.

And so, with a heavy heart and tears still streaming down his cheeks, Joel resolved to carry on, to face each day with courage and determination, knowing that even though you were gone, your love would always be with him.

You were always on his mind.

[thestressedskittles]

Team Bucci Blurb (NSFW): Cumming inside of you

Warnings: Use of pussy/cunt/breast, gender-neutral reader, all characters are 18 and older! I did not proofread because its late, so I apologize for any mistakes.

BRUNO

His hands slide up to your breasts, where he teasingly plays with your pebbled nipples, kissing your jaw and pecking you lips for short kisses, leaving you pouty and adorable. He finally leans in for a fiery kiss, his blue eyes darkened with lustful intent, and he pushes you to lay down completely on the bed, your hand tangling into his silky black hair.

Going in raw isn't new, but this time, it feels different, more pleasurable. This time, he doesn't need to be careful. You're already clenching in excitement and Bruno is a master at revving you up, his long and slender fingers reaching deeper than your own, but nothing compares to his cock.

It never takes long to bring you to the edge when Bruno warms you up so good. A low groan kisses your ears and Bruno moves to lay completely on top of you, wanting to be as close to you as possible as you both reach bliss together. His hips move like a machine when there's a small stutter in his tempo, a strong twitch in his cock, followed by slow and deep thrusts. Moaning through clenched teeth, he leans in close to your lips before connecting them with tender affection.

ABBACCHIO

"Mm, fuck, Leone!" You moan out as the tall goth has you pulled against his chest, one arm wrapped around your middle, one hand on your breast, and the other braced against the bed, leaning you forward slightly to hit that little bundle of nerves just right.

He moans with you, the deep baritone sending pleasure furling in your pussy. His head rests on your shoulder, and his eyes cast a downward glance, watching your breast move with his thrusts. "You look so good right now." He breathes out, giving you goosebumps. He turns and lays a kiss upon your neck as your head tilts upwards.

Feeling you tighten, he holds you closer. "Gonna cum for me?" You can't see his face but you can hear the smirk. "Want me to cum inside of you, carina?" You nod frantically, at a loss for words, and his thrusts become stronger and quicker. "Gonna cum inside you!" He quickly shifts his grip, holding you close to his chest as his hips finish you both off, your mind fuzzy at the warm feeling of his cum shooting into your pussy.

MISTA

"Fuck, I love seeing you on top of me," Mista groans, his hands rapaciously kneading your breasts as you grind down onto his pelvis. His cock is fully sheathed inside of you and your clit rubs against his hard abdomen. "Feels so good, being inside you." He lets his head tilt back and you gently rake your nails down his chest, leaving light scratches.

"Guido!" You moan out, feeling ready to go over the edge. Every vein on his cock is enough to make you weak. Feeling the constant throbbing, you know he's close. "Want you... want you to cum inside of me! Fill me up!" You're bouncing on him now, eager to feel that knot in your belly erupt.

Planting his feet on the bed, he matches your bounces and rhythm, hands shifting from your breasts to your hips. He's noisy as he closes in on his release, you yourself are no better. Mista pants out words of encouragement and praise before you both lament, Mista slamming upward into your pulsing pussy, rubbing small circles on your hips as you milk him for all he's worth.

NARANCIA

Narancia is glued to your body, his usually messy hair now frayed and sticking to his forehead as he pants into the space above your head. Both his hands are gripping and twisting the bed sheets hard, struggling to keep himself together as his cock sinks into your molten pussy.

He half whines, half moans as he pulls away slightly, leaving his cock buried to the hilt. "I don't know how much longer I can last." He looks at you with purple eyes blown wide. His tone is higher pitch, one of his many telltale signs he's ready to cum. He brings himself to his knees and pulls your hips flush against his own, both your legs spread out on either side of him.

"Nara!" You reach for him, inadvertently pushing your breasts together and offering him an irresistible view, sending your raven-haired boyfriend over the edge. His thrusts turn to slams as he loses himself, hard cock twitching and pulsing, his hands finding purchase on your thighs and hips, sure to leave bruises to be admired later.

FUGO

"Holy shit!" Fugo grunts, feeling every inch of your cunt along his cock. One hand by your head, fisting the pillow, and the other running along your side to ground himself. "You feel... so good." He has to take a moment, not wanting to ruin this moment.

When he gets his bearings, he sets a hard pace. He starts up a consistent tempo, satisfying you both. He keeps himself deep as much as possible, every so often he'll keep his hips flush against yours for a split moment, to savor you and vice versa. Your arms wrap around his neck and your leg wraps around his waist, unable to get enough of him.

The feeling of being bare is intense for the both of you and doesn't take much before you're both at the edge, ready to tumble into the abyss of pleasure. Despite his rough pace, Fugo suddenly leans in for a hard kiss, his tongue pressing forth. The twitching of his cock intensifies as you reciprocate, tongues gliding against one another. He moans into your mouth, your pussy sucking in every last drop.

GIORNO

"So beautiful, so divine," Giorno murmurs into your ear as he bottoms out inside of you. You clutch at his pale shoulders as he shifts into position, laying tender kisses along your neck. You murmur his name into his shoulder and he begins a gentle rhythm, wanting to savor every moment of this first-time experience.

"F-feels good," you whimper out, feeling everything Giorno is without a barrier. He helps you wrap your legs around him before bracing his hands against your sides, his hand occasionally reaching up to knead your breast lightly. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how beautiful you are beneath him.

You hands are tangled in his hair by the time you're ready to release, his braid undone and light scratch marks little down his back. Your hips canter upwards to meet his thrusts, silently telling him to pick up the pace. You both ride out on each other as bliss takes over the both of you. Giorno lets out sweet, soft moans as you stretch out beneath him, gripping his forearms and riding to cloud nine as he peppers your neck with kisses and hug you with sweet words.

[vivalabunbun]

Sweet Sweet Nothings

Summary: The sweet lull of normalcy in an unconventional marriage

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Fluff, this is just pure fluff, Smut, NFSW, MDNI, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, Modern AU, Alpha! Alhaitham, Beta! Reader, breeding, biting, established relationship, TW: Very vague mentions of gender dysphoria (of your secondary gender), TW: pregnancy and birth, Protective! Alhaitham, Jealous! Alhaitham

Authors Note: This isn’t much of a story, think of it as a collection of sweet nothings and domestic life with Alhaitham and the Sumeru cast after this. I just felt like I had to give them fluff after that slow burn. Enjoy!

Teal-orange eyes snapped towards the ticking clock on his oak desk, the time read 5 pm. Alhaitham’s duties were over for the day, now he had more pressing matters to attend to. Swift hands gathered up the papers scattered across the dark wood, stacking them into a neat pile before his body pushed against his plush seat. The golden glint of the ring on his finger only spurred him on to quickly exit his office. 

“Hey! Alhaitham are you leaving work now? Great, how about we grab some drinks with-”

“No. I’m busy.” He bluntly dismissed his blond senior. 

A firm hand snatched up his blazer that had been thrown across the back of his seat, the other flicked off the desk lamp. 

“Oi! Your senior is inviting you to a-”

“If you have a request you need approved then please leave it on my desk, I’ll look over it once I return back to the office on Monday.” Alhaitham skirted past the blond’s still frame at the doorway, paying no mind to the disgruntled scrunch on Kaveh’s face. His mind was focused on more pressing matters. 

–

“And then the brat just WALKS past me as if I were some dust on the ground! Could you believe that?” Kaveh thumps his glass back onto the tavern table, a small splash of wine lapped over the side. 

Tighnari took another big swig from this glass, his ears weren’t drunk enough to handle the tumultuous complaining of the blond. Cyno was only half-heartedly listening, ruby eyes trained on the brand-new deck of cards he had spent the week building in his hands. 

Yes, it is just a typical Friday afternoon. Colleagues gathered at Lambad’s Tavern, congregating at an outdoor table and enjoying the nice wine and early Spring air. Although more often than not, there would only be three seats filled instead of four. 

“Just what is so important that they trifle over common courtesy? In the world of job opportunities, networking and connections are a critical part of getting higher up the chain. Just how did that shrewd man get that promotion?” Kaveh’s face already had the tall tale signs of a drunken glow. 

“Well, it’s not really that out of character for him. People have always found his actions grating, but his efficiency at his work can’t be denied.” Tighnari rested his head on his hand. 

“There’s been a change in the head secretary lately.” Cyno asserted, eyes now trained somewhere else. 

“Oh? How so? He’s the same old crude man.” Kaveh dismissed. 

Cyno motioned with his eyes at a sight just behind the two other men. Two confused heads turned to follow his gaze. Nearly choking on their drinks at the scene they were now witnessing. 

There stood Alhaitham’s towering figure walking hand in hand with yours, bags filled with books and miscellaneous trinkets carried in his other. What made the men uncomfortable was the uncanny softness dawned on the stoic secretary’s face, as his teal eyes focused on you. 

His Beta wife was pressing her body against his arm as she spoke close to his ear, pointing at random stalls and vendors. Alhaitham leaned down to hear you through the chattering crowd, making sure to maneuver your bodies through the bustling streets. 

The three men didn’t know what to make of the scene in front of them as the couple walked out of sight, still holding each other close. Kaveh wonders if the wine being served today was stronger than usual. However, the three unwed men now got their answer to Alhaitham’s sudden full schedule. 

The table of bachelors called for more wine. Maybe to cleanse their palette of the sour taste of jealousy. 

–

“Have you seen Alhaitham today? I’ve been trying to hand him this paperwork since Friday.” Kaveh approached the head lawyer at the water cooler, the weekend was now over and it was now Monday, and the secretary was nowhere to be seen. 

“Hm? The head secretary applied to use his paid vacation time off. It was approved last Friday.” Cyno took a sip from the paper cup. 

“Huh?” The papers fluttered out of the architect’s slack hands, jaw agape. 

His junior truly was trying to annoy him to death. That conniving bastard Alhaitham. 

Fontaine was very different from Sumeru, with different types of foods, shops, and culture. It was quite exciting the first week of your late honeymoon to duck into every shop along the city streets. You discovered that your husband was fluent in the language, anything you pointed at he would translate for you without hesitation. However, the wonder of sightseeing faded within just a few days, like the true homebodies you were, there was a silent agreement to spend the rest of the time in the grand honeymoon suite. 

The hotel Alhaitham booked was the most luxurious one Fontaine had to offer. You will have to blame this decision on the generous amount of financial freedom granted by a pharmaceutical payout. It was only fair in Alhaitham’s mind, you worked very hard during the rut brought on by faulty inhibitors. Hard work should be rewarded, so he decides you should be indulged with the best room service, fancy baths, and thousand-count silk sheets. 

How you spent your time in the suite was really no different than how you would spend it in Sumeru. Alhaitham was laying down on the silk sheets, back slightly propped up by down feather-filled pillows, unwinding with a book in his hand. 

“Ah…Ah!... Ah… Making your wife do all the work while on vacation? You’re such a terrible husband, Haitham.” You stilled your hips, hands propping yourself up along his toned body. 

“Mm? You were really enjoying yourself, I didn’t want to interrupt.” There was a teasing tilt in his voice, teal eyes never looking away from the sentences printed as his other hand rubbed circles into your hip. 

From this angle he reached deeper than usual, making you feel so much fuller. Your walls were clenching down, trembling with pleasure from the stretch and thick tip poking that one spongey spot. A while ago you had abandoned your book in favor of bouncing up and down on your husband’s lap. It was your late honeymoon, after all, there was almost five years' worth of time to make up for. 

You knew your husband was just teasing you, but your lips couldn’t stop a pout from forming. You shifted a bit more on top of his god-like physique, pressing his tip deeper against that sweet little spot deep inside. Wandering hands made their way to grope at his plush pectorals followed by your pouting face, eyes trained on the book your husband was so engrossed by. 

“Hmph…” A displeased huff left your lips, it was absolutely adorable to him. 

“Is something the matter?” The corner of his lip was upturned just the slightest bit. 

“It’s our honeymoon and yet my husband is already having an affair with a book.” You playfully sulked into his chest. 

“My, I never knew my wife was the jealous type.” Finally, he snapped the book closed, playful eyes gazing into yours. 

“I guess you learned something new then.” You gently confiscated the book from his hand, placing it farther away on the large bed. 

Alhaitham gave a hum of acknowledgment, both hands now firmly seizing the sides of your waist. Steadying your body before following it up with a solid snap of his hips. You pressed your face harder against his chest, muffling the moan that was suddenly forced out of you. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Why are you so quiet now?” His hips set a rhythm, slow and deep. 

His thick length dragged along your slick walls in all the right ways, you could feel every inch outlined inside you. Each roll of his hips gently lifted your body up before accompanying it back down. Your mouth fell open, breathing out soft moans against his warm skin. The smell of lust hung heavy in the air of the spacious room. But you wanted more, this slow lovemaking couldn’t satisfy the greed deep within. 

“Mmm… More…” 

“More?” His pace escalates just the slightest bit. 

The sloppy sounds of your connecting bodies were louder now, with each in and out of your slick cunt like purrs of pleasure. He was hitting that spot that brings shooting pleasure throughout your nerves. Still, maybe it's because your expectations have been set a bit high from your first taste, but your greed wanted more. 

“More~” You breathed out, face now pressed into the crook of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I know what my lovely wife wants.” A hand supports the back of your head, smoothing out the hair. 

Swiftly you got turned under him, his board frame now looming above, that handsome smirk on his face. He rested your head gently on the dawn pillows, as your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him down closer to you. The combination of his weight on top of you and how heavy he felt inside your sobbing cunt sent shivers up your spine. Yes, this is what you wanted. 

Leaving the crook of his neck, your lips chased after his. Alhaitham couldn’t help but let out a small huff, you were quite needy today. His lips captured yours in a deep kiss, shallowing all your noises. He shall spoil you, it was your honeymoon after all. 

In this position, he had much better footing and grasp on your waist. Meaning the strength and pace of his hips slamming into yours increased to the rhythm you desired. Moans were flowing out like water from your mouth, eyes teary with lust. The claps of your bodies echo through the room, he would pull out to the tip then slam back in. Just the way you liked it. 

Teal eyes observed your loose face, the rolling back of your eyes signaling that the knot was about to come undone. But before he lets you reach cloud nine, you have to answer a question that he’s been pondering. 

“Would you rather have consistent pleasure spread evenly throughout the year… or four days of nonstop, mind-melting pleasure then nothing for the rest?” Alhaitham asked right up against your ear, making your skin bristle. 

You felt his hips roll back to their slow methodical pace. Oh, he wasn’t going to let you taste sweet release until you paid the toll of his curiosity. Really, your husband can be so mean sometimes. You let out a small whine, trying to roll your hips into his but his firm hold prevented such action. 

“Answer the question, sweetheart.” Alhaitham continued to egg you on, clearly enjoying your displeased whines. 

“Why can’t I have both?” You muttered close to his own ears, tightening your embrace around him to offset the embarrassment creeping up on you. 

At your response his hips stilled, stoic teal eyes gazing at you as you looked away. You didn’t see the smirk that returned to his features. 

“Goodness, my wife is insatiable.” He dragged his length out fully. 

Before you could even let out another whine at the loss, he returned it fully inside of you. Filling out your unexpecting walls again pounding against that spongey patch, making your back arch up and toes curl. 

“AH!” Your body was pressed impossibly close to his. 

“I wonder if I should keep you at home, confined to the bedroom for your sake.” His hot breath ghosted over your ear. 

He was pistoning in and out now, fat tip abusing your sweet spot just the way you wanted it. Your walls were clenching around his girth just like how your arms were holding onto him to ground your sanity. The searing white flashes of pleasure were shooting up through your nerves, the edge was approaching fast. The filthy fantasy Alhaitham was painting in your mind only served to quicken the process. 

“All you have to do is be a good wife, and welcome me home with open legs. How about that?” Alhaitham pressed sweet kisses against your neck, a far cry from the filth that was leaving his tongue. 

You felt his teeth brush against the side of your neck before they clamped down. That was what unraveled the knot inside you. Your ankles hooked together as your hips pushed closer to his. Back arching almost painfully, bodying trembling and eyes rolling back. Alhaitham let out a small hiss at the tightness of your walls contracting. He wasn’t going to last long if you continued to be this impossibly tight. 

He could tell from the way your eyes were still seeing the back of your head you were still in the midst of your orgasm. This meant that Alhaitham was free to chase after his own release now. So he does. His length continues to pound against your quivering walls, pushing through the tight clenches. The extra gush of slick helped to accelerate his movements further. Sloppy slapping of skin against skin, he could feel that his tip was probably red and swollen from his calculated delayed release. 

Pressing his pulsing tip right up against your cervix, the tension inside him finally snapped. Flooding your walls with thick, warm release. Your body instantly responded, walls beginning to twitch and convulse more, trying to milk every last drop. Alhaitham panted against your neck, sucking on the soft skin from time to time as he held your body close. 

“Mmm… Don’t mark up my neck. I brought all these pretty dresses to wear and now I can’t wear anything but turtle necks.” Your fingers tussled through his messy ash locks. It seems like you’ve returned from cloud nine.

“You can just wear them in the room.” He pressed another kiss to your neck. 

Before you could voice your complaints your husband buries your face into the crook of his neck, a silent invitation. Who were you to reject? The sensation of your teeth clamping down onto his smooth skin, leaving deep indentations seems to appease his primal urges noted by the low growl that rumbles in his chest. 

“Would you like to take a bath, habibti?” Gentle finger caressed your face. 

You hummed in confirmation, nuzzling into his touch more. The calm, sweet lull of intimacy washed over the room. Passion satisfied, for now at least. 

“You smell.” Dehya scrunched up her nose. 

You gave a deadpan stare at your Alpha friend beside you. You recently returned from your trip to Fontaine, meeting up with your friends to show them the gifts you had brought back. 

The weather wasn’t that hot today so you definitely weren’t sweating, and your outfit was also fresh from the clothesline. You even took a quick shower before you went to the agreed-upon cafe. You brought your arm up to your nose for a quick sniff, nothing smelled particularly off. 

“I smell normal.” You raised an eyebrow at her. 

“No, you smell like you just rolled around in the forest.” She retorted. 

Now you were confused, glancing at Candace and Nilou. Wait, why does it look like the two were trying to hold back their laughter? What is going on? You just wanted to give them their souvenirs. 

“What Dehya is trying to say is… it seems like you’ve gotten closer to your husband.” Candace rested her elbows on the table as she leaned in. 

Oh. They meant that. A scarlet flush instantly engulfed your cheeks, a silent admission of the truth. All at once you saw the gleam in your friends’ eyes, and they started hounding you for the details. 

The tea served at the cafe was always brewed to perfection and the leaves were of the highest quality. However, your friends were much more interested in the new development of your marriage. 

–

You were drained. You loved your friends, you really do. But spilling the tame details of the budding romance between you and your husband with burning cheeks sure depleted your battery. In a way, they deserved to know, supporting you for over five years throughout the murkier times. 

At the moment, you were curled up on the couch against your husband’s chest. Fingers fiddling with the ring that matched yours resting on his finger, as his attention was trained on the book in his other hand. It wasn’t time for your ritual quiet reading session, so you felt it was appropriate to quietly enjoy some skinship. Alhaitham didn’t seem to mind. 

“Haitham.” You began. 

“Mm?”

“What is your scent like?” You continued to fiddle with his wedding ring. 

“According to your friends, a tree.” His deep voice replied, never once looking up. 

“Mmm.” Your lips pressed into a line, still toying with the gold band. 

You had that look on your face, Alhaitham notes. Demons don’t disappear so easily, even at the start of a new chapter, they will continue to cling to your shadow. If he could, Alhaitham would strangle those devils with his own bare hands. But he couldn’t. So instead, he shall always be there to pull you out from the ice-cold water back to the warm shore. 

He flips the book over, placing it faced down on the arm of the couch. His full attention was now on you as he tenderly grasped your hand, pulling you closer. He pressed his nose against your neck, senses searching through the thick layer of opulent woodiness. 

The faint sweet hints of padisarah pudding mixed with the bath products and laundry detergent you shared were guarded by that layer. The scent that he recognizes as yours, the scent he shares with you. 

“I smell like you. That is the only scent I will recognize as mine.” His teal eyes peered up at you. 

You were silent for a moment, hand halting but still grasping the ring. 

“Pfft. Have you been reading my old novels again?” You couldn’t suppress the small laugh and smile. 

“Did you want me to?” 

“No.” 

You intertwined your fingers with his, rings clinking together, a physical show of a bond. 

Alhaitham rested his head in the crook of your neck, continuing to breathe in your essence. The scent of you always seems to lull him into a drowsy state of comfort. Yet, it wasn’t heavy nor did it cloud his thoughts, so he could always think clearly of you. Yes, this is the scent he adores. 

“Have you been doing something to make my Alpha and Omega coworkers avoid me?” 

“...” 

“What a weird Alpha you are.” You rubbed your cheek against your husband's resting face. 

You’ve been sluggish lately, Alhaitham observed. More often than not, he found himself carrying your sleeping frame back to bed after you fell asleep curled up on the sofa. Book in your limp hands. Your alarm would also be ringing longer than usual, you used to be able to turn it off by the first ring so as to not disturb him from his slumber. You knew he was a light sleeper. 

As he took a bite of the dinner you had just cooked he notes the blander taste. It was your usual style to throw in as many spices as you pleased. It was the start of flu season, and Alhaitham noted the cough that’s been going around in his office. However, he had a different hypothesis he wanted to share with you tonight. He watched as you chewed then shallowed. 

“Habibti, have you taken a pregnancy test lately?” His voice was calm, tone stable. 

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stared at him starstruck, eyes wide and mouth agape. This was why he waited, it wouldn’t be good to have food go down the wrong pipe. He maintained a neutral expression, staring into your eyes to read the emotions that were running rampant behind them. 

“N-no… but…” A furrow formed between your brow as you brought a hand up your mouth. A habit of yours when you were deep in thought. 

The two of you were careful. Pills are taken at specific times. Morning after teas were always in stock around the house, either he brews it for you right after a moment of passion or you would drink it in the morning. However, Alhaitham wasn’t startled. He understands that even with birth control there was always a risk. 

Dinner was swiftly finished, dishes piled in the sink for later, there were more pressing matters to attend to. You were currently in the bathroom with the pregnancy test he had picked up on his way home from work. Alhaitham was leaning his back on the wall beside the bathroom door. He was trying to calculate when you last had your time of the month, or when exactly you began to behave differently. 

The singing hinges of the bathroom door pulled him out of his thoughts. You had that look on your face again. Alhaitham didn’t even need to look at the test in your hands to know the results, two red lines. From how frozen your stance was in the door frame, he already knew what thoughts were running through your mind. 

Children were never planned nor discussed, at the beginning the two of you were much more focused on your careers and enjoying your free time. That is to say, you greatly enjoyed the double income and no kids life. However, there was now a fork in the road. The hands holding the test were now trembling. Alhaitham quickly brought you into a tender embrace, to silence the wild thoughts before they begin to torment you. 

“Whatever your decision may be, I will support it unconditionally. Take your time.” Rubbing a small circle into your back. 

You were silent but your arms wrapped around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder. Quiet reading time was a bit more quiet than usual tonight. 

–

It was now a Saturday night, Alhaitham had already situated himself on his spot on the couch. There was already a book in his hands, but he didn’t open it, he was waiting for you. You usually didn’t take this long in the shower, he was beginning to wonder if he should go knock on the door. But there was no need, soon the soft thumps of your steps were heard coming down the hall. 

Contrary to the usual, you make a b-line straight into his lap, curling up against his board frame. He didn’t say anything, supporting you with an arm and holding you closer. 

“I want to keep the baby.” You spoke softly against his neck. 

Alhaitham closed his eyes, mind going deep into thought. There was more than enough money saved up to support a child. Sumeru has free good quality health care, a great daycare program, and the best education system. The nation offers a generous tax deduction for families with children. There were enough rooms in the house that one could be turned into a nursery, it would be troublesome to have to babyproof everything and rearrange the furniture. 

Ah, the two of you will have to sacrifice your free time and sleep to take care of a needy newborn. However… He opened his eyes. 

“Then we should start making preparations for our new addition.” 

If it’s with you, Alhaitham is more than willing to sacrifice those luxuries and needs. 

Alhaitham had to be more observant, the changes to your body and hormones made it so you were much more sensitive to your surroundings. Foods that were too strong in scent had to be dialed back or not cooked in the house. He also took care to clear the floor of any stacks of books lest your foot knocks into them. 

The worst part of it was probably how the pregnancy was disrupting your sleep. Your body needs it, yet the growing bump and overactive hormones made it hard for you to find a position that welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep. Often tossing and turning, Alhaitham would  place a pillow under your belly which seemed to help a bit. 

Then came morning sickness, Alhaitham is adamant that your child be thankful for all the suffering you were enduring to give life to them. 

The ashen-haired Alpha had been extra careful with his inhibitors as well, making sure each dose was measured to the line and constantly checking the dates printed on the bottles. Still, the clawing of his instincts only grew stronger as his teal eyes observe your bump growing day by day. You were working so hard to carry the child, he needed to do something to make you relax and comfortable. 

–

Currently, your bed has been buried under a mountain of quilts and plush pillows. You had your hands on your hips as your eyes surveyed the messy state of the bed you had just made a few hours earlier. You folded and pack those quilts away weeks ago, why were they back out? 

“Haitham, why can’t I see our own bed?”

“There’s no cause for concern. Your body must be tired, go take a rest.” A gentle large hand rested on your lower back, encouraging you towards the heavenly pile. 

That sentiment from seven years ago still rings true to this day. Your husband is weird. Still, there was a small smile on your face, what a silly sweet weirdo he is. The soft wafts of fresh linen encapsulated your senses, layers upon layers of fabric cushioning your achy joints and growing belly. Gentle fingers combed their way through your hair, making your eyelids grow heavy. 

Were these inherited instincts or learned gestures from old light novels? Oh well, the answer is irrelevant. 

One Saturday afternoon you were rudely awakened by the maddening repetition of thumping. You were now well into your second trimester, the bump on your belly growing steadily day by day, which only meant your sleep schedule only got worse. All your senses have been going into overdrive lately, every bump in the night making your eyes snap open. You groggily rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, begrudgingly rousing your sluggish body from the haven of pillows and blankets. 

By this point, you and Alhaitham had announced to friends and family about your pregnancy, there were many tears of excitement shed that day. Followed by a steady stream of boxes and gifts placed into your or your husband's hands. These items ranged from teas to help with morning sickness to long loose maternity gowns. 

At first, you raised an eyebrow at the shapeless dresses your mother had gifted to you. Stating that they made you look like a lost ghost. However, now with your baby bump, the soft loose fabric felt divine against your sensitive skin. Carefully, pushing off the mattress you took your time gaining your balance. Moving has become troublesome because of your now shifted center of gravity.

Steadying yourself with a hand on the hallway wall you waddled toward the source of the commotion. As you grew closer to the room across the guest room, an extra space that was utilized as a small side library the barrage of noises stung your ears more. You felt irritation creeping up on you. 

Grasping your hand on the door frame you peered inside to see a head of blonde hair. Oh. It’s Kaveh. That explains the noise. 

You quietly observed the back of the unaware man as he continued to hammer furniture together. Your husband had told you earlier in the week that Kaveh would be coming over to help set up the nursery. He mentioned something about the blond having to pay off an old debt. 

Oh well, it saves you and Alhaitham the trouble of rearranging the furniture. 

“Ugh, that bastard has not changed a single bit. Who would choose such an ugly bassinet? His poor child will be welcomed into the world surrounded by ugly furniture.” 

Your lips pressed into a firm line. You had chosen the bassinet when out shopping with your husband. You bought it with your own money too. You thought it was quite cute… It’s cute, right? You waddled off to find your husband. 

“Alhaitham…” Tighnri stood just to the left of the glass door of the small cafe, your favorite cafe. 

Your husband was exiting the door, a small chime from the bell hanging above his head announcing his departure. A brown take-out bag, that contained the padisarah pudding you have been craving for the fourth time this week, clutched firmly in his hand. Alhaitham greeted his fellow colleague with a nod of acknowledgment. 

“I know your wife is pregnant. However, food should be in moderation. Especially sweets. You should know that during pregnancy the change in hormones makes it harder for the body to control its levels of-”

The ashen-haired man raised one hand, signaling for the other to halt their lecture. 

“I acknowledge your expertise and advice. However, time is precious and to save both of ours, I invite you to take this debate up with my wife. To warn you beforehand, you will lose.” 

Tighnari let out a huff of exasperation, steps heading in the direction of your shared home with Alhaitham. Surely you were more reasonable than your Alpha husband at the moment. Tighnari knew it was in their primal instincts to pamper their mates, caving into any demand no matter how unreasonable or troublesome. 

The head secretary has always been a rather level-headed individual in his eyes, sometimes to a fault, so it must just be his instincts influencing his actions. Tignari even heard from a certain blond that the ashen-haired man had given him the deadliest glare because the architect had critiqued your taste in home decor. 

“It’s normal for people to have cravings during their pregnancies, and for the most part, it’s harmless. However, there is a whole misconception about the saying ‘eating for two’. In truth, you only need about an extra glass of milk and an extra pita pocket a day. You are feeding a small-”

Alhaitham stared ahead at the path in front of him, doing his best to tune out the ramblings of the shorter man walking beside him. He had one purpose, and that was to deliver your padisarah pudding to you. 

–

Tighnari was now walking in the direction of his own home, spirit shaking a bit. Like always, Alhaitham’s prediction was flawless. He lost. The defiant blank gaze you gave him at the doorway of your house was enough to make the ebony-haired Alpha stop his clearly unsolicited advice. In the end, you got your pudding.

“That is all I have to report. Now that you have this knowledge, I trust that you will be able to decide if this proposition is fair or not. Here are the files for you to look through.” The ivory-haired Alpha placed the stack of papers on the smooth desk. 

“Understood. Thank you for the report, Cyno.” Alhaitham gathered the paperwork into his hands, beginning to skim through the contents. 

His teal-orange eyes soon left the crisp papers, peering at his colleague with an inquisitive glance. It wasn’t like the head lawyer to remain in his office after he finished delivering his information. 

“Is there any more you would like to discuss?” 

“Yes, I have prepared a gift for your child.” Cyno reached into his blazer pocket. 

Alhaitham hid his sigh. Your home was already littered with so many gifts and baby items, it was troublesome keeping the floors clear of any potential tripping hazards. You were now in your third trimester, slow steps more focused on your balance and the ache in your lower back than paying attention to the floor. 

Your husband wonders if he should have waited until he applied for maternity leave to tell his closest colleagues about your pregnancy. 

“Here.” Cyno handed him an engraved box.

Was this a TCG card case? Alhaitham’s unreadable eyes shifted between the case and the head lawyer’s eager eyes. Really, he should’ve expected this, he is already well aware of the tan Alpha’s obsession with the card game. 

“Thank you.” Your husband took the gift from the awaiting hand. 

“I custom-made the deck to be as beginner friendly as possible. Even still, these cards are staples in the game so this deck will be solid regardless of the changing meta. I made sure to have every card laminated as young children don’t know restraint. The box is also custom-made, it is made from solid wood but any sharp edges have been rounded out.”

“You didn’t have to go through so much unnecessary trouble.” Alhaitham wishes that Cyno didn’t. 

“Since most gifts have been either for your wife or for the child, I have prepared a gift for you as well.” Cyno reached into his inner coat pocket. 

This was unexpected. Your husband observed the tan man pull out a small journal. Stationary? You had already gifted Alhaitham a lifetime supply, but they were for only very important situations. So this could be a welcomed addition.

“I wrote down some of my best jokes for you to tell.” 

Nevermind. Alhaitham didn’t even want to reach for the small notebook. Cyno places it on top of the desk. 

“It’s unnecessary.” 

“It will help pass the time while entertaining your child. Your wife has been pregnant for a while now, it must feel like an maternity.” 

“...”

“Did you not get it? It’s because ‘maternity’ sounds like ‘eternity’ and-”

“I am very busy, head lawyer. Please excuse yourself from my office.”  

 Alhaitham was aware of the concept of ‘pregnancy glow’ from the anatomical journals he read some time ago. However, seeing it in person was much different from what the book had described. Another example of how learning purely from books is not enough. 

You were radiant, features softer and skin glowing. The aura around you has also been much gentler, likely attributed to your constant drowsiness and lack of stress from work as you were now on maternity leave. More often than not, Alhaitham finds it hard to keep his hands off of you.

 Resting an open hand on your round belly, feeling the subtle shifts of your child as he reads. Hugging you from behind as you cook, it’s to support the baby he reasons. He offers his chest as a pillow whenever sleep calls for you regardless if it was on the couch, you needed your rest.

However, there’s a caveat: others can’t seem to keep their hands off you either. 

“Oh! What a strong kick! I think they have real potential for dance.” Nilou exclaimed as she felt your belly. 

“Haha, what a meddlesome kid already. Kicking your poor mommy.” Dehya also had one hand resting a top. 

“It’s uncomfortable, yes, but it’s a good sign that they’re healthy and strong.” You let out a small sigh. 

“Here, have another pillow to support you” Candace placed the soft cushion behind your back, relieving some of the pressure. 

“Thank you, Candace. Even though I’m going to become a mother soon, it seems you’ll always be the mom of our group.” You giggled, giving your friends a wide smile. 

“Oh, you flatter me too much.” Candace chuckled, joining the rest in feeling your round bump. 

Alhaitham sat in your usual spot on the adjacent sofa, trying to read his book. However, his teal eyes couldn’t help but peer over at the hands that were plastered all over your belly. Although his gaze remained neutral, his lips were slightly pressed into a line. Their hands didn’t need to linger for that long he surmises. 

–

“Have a safe trip back!” You bid your friends goodbye, it was nice to have visitors when you couldn’t leave the house easily. 

Alhaitham closes the front door after their figures disappeared into the distance, offering his muscular arm to support you. You gladly accepted, as your feet and joints sang with relief as pressure was shifted off of them. Slowly strolling down the hall back to the living room. 

Alhaitham presses a soft kiss against your temple, a clever diversion from his true intentions. He couldn’t help the frown that formed on his lips or the scrunch of his nose. Your friends had drenched you in their scent, overpowering your subtle fragrance. Tsk, this is why others should keep their hands to themselves. 

“Let's take a shower. Of course, I’ll assist you.” 

“Mm? Haitham, it’s pretty early. We haven’t even had dinner.” 

“I’ll help you wash your hair as well.” 

“Haitham-”

“I’ll massage your shoulders and feet afterward.” 

“... Fine… remember to use the lotion as well.” 

“Of course.” 

There was no reason to be nervous even as your due date grew closer and closer. A room at the Bimarstan has already been reserved. He had already prepared a hospital bag with extra clothes, blankets, and toiletries. Alhaitham also packed some books in there was well. However, as you began to count down the days, it’s hard not to notice the anticipation in the air. You were very much ready to meet your child and to finally not be pregnant anymore. 

“Do you think the child will be more like you or me?” You turned to face your husband as he lay in bed. 

“It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re healthy.” Alhaitham tucks a quilt from the nest up to your chin. 

“Oh? I think that if our child looks like you but has my personality, they’d be quite popular.” You pondered out loud. 

“Mm.” Alhaitham pulls you closer to him from behind, resting his chin atop your head. 

“Then if they resemble you, it's best that they have my personality. Lest our peaceful lives will be disrupted by a constant stream of suitors at the door.” He entertains your musing. 

Your soft giggle jingles through the air as you stroked your belly, his hands soon join yours. A comfortable silence encapsulated the two of you, his soft caresses lulling your heavy lids closed. This was the sweet calm lull of normalcy, and you both were satisfied. 

Alhaitham had closed his eyes, only for them to snap open with the sudden jolt of your body. Did the baby kick again? They sure are disruptive, he can already feel the long sleepless nights to come. However, there were still a few days to stock up on as much rest as possible. 

“Haitham, I think my water broke.” 

Nevermind. 

–

 You were holding onto his hand with an iron-clad grip, crushing his fingers together. However, he knew this was barely scratching the surface of the discomfort you were currently experiencing. If he could, Alhaitham would bare all your pain himself. 

However, he couldn’t so he’ll sit beside you in the Bimarstan, brushing the hair out of your sweat-socked face and whispering sweet nothings to encourage your efforts. You’ve been in labor now for about four hours. Alhaitham has decided that the first thing your child learns to write will be a thank you letter addressed to you. 

You were trying to keep your breathing as stable as possible, practicing the technique the midwife taught you. Put the pain of the contractions always broke your streak, making you have to start from the beginning to try and steady your breath. The midwives and doctors were encouraging you to push as hard as you could. You already were, but you took a deep breath and then held onto it. Giving it your all. 

--

“WWAAHHHHH!” 

A loud, piercing, yet beautiful cry echoed off the walls. 

“It's a boy!” The doctors announced. 

--

“He’s got quite the set of lungs.” You giggled, tears still pooling at the corners of your eyes. Cradling your newborn. 

Alhaitham only let out a gentle hum, resting his head on your shoulder as he gazes at his son. Eyes as soft as the little one’s plump cheeks. It was quite a riveting experience, how can one fall in love with a little stranger so quickly? 

“No more full nights rest for us when we return home, huh.” You rested your head on top of his ashen hair, smiling as you continued to stare at your little bundle. 

Your husband lets out a soft mixture of a hum and a chuckle. He’s already prepared himself to sacrifice sleep in order to nurture this little bond created between the two of you. 

To your surprise and his great delight, your child sleeps through the nights well. A little too well. You had been released from the Bimarstan just a few days ago, the doctors all said your child was healthy. However, you couldn’t help but stare at him as if you were in a trance. 

“Come to bed, your body needs the rest to heal.” His warm touch grasped the sides of your shoulders, as Alhaitham pressed his face into your neck. Trying to lure you back. 

“Yes, I know but… just a little while longer.” You reached a hand up to tussle through his soft locks. 

Your eyes never stopped observing the small ups and downs of your little bundle of joy as he slept. Well, the face he made earlier when you had woken him up for his regular feedings sure wasn’t one of joy. He’s just like his father, grumpy when disturbed from the sweet embrace of sleep. But he needed to feed every three hours if he was to grow up healthily. 

“He’s quite a lot like you. A deep sleeper.”

“Oh? I think he’s quite like you, Haitham. You should’ve seen the mean mug he gave me.”

“I never scowl at you.”

“Yes, but you’re grumpy when woken up.”

“Hmph.” Your husband buries his face deeper into your nape. Teal eyes never breaking their gaze from the child you’ve gifted him. 

The air was quiet, yet warm and sweet. It was well past your preferred bedtime, but strangely not a single muscle felt tired as two pairs of eyes continued to study the small moments of his chest. 

“Should we head to bed now, Haitham?”

“Mm, perhaps a few more minutes wouldn’t make a drastic difference.” 

Fin~

[chxrrywxvss]

now give Logan and Reader a beautiful wedding, babies and a house with white picket fence on the Canadian way of living 🤧

HELP MEE here is my sincere apology for my last post

Every Inch Of Me

“My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder.”

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Afab!Reader

Word Count: 3k

NOT PROOFREAD.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the clearing nestled in the Canadian Rockies. The air was fragrant with wildflowers, their colors vibrant against the backdrop of towering pines and majestic mountains. On this perfect day, everything felt imbued with magic. You stood at the end of a makeshift aisle, heart racing, your hands trembling slightly as you clutched a bouquet of white lilies and lavender.

As you took your first steps toward Logan, time seemed to stretch and bend. Each footfall echoed with the love that had carried you both through so much. Logan stood there, waiting for you, his rugged features softened by the gentle light and a look of pure adoration on his face. He wore a simple dark suit, but the way he held himself—strong, yet vulnerable—made him look more handsome than ever.

Friends and family surrounded you—some you had known for years, others who had traveled from far and wide to witness this moment. Among them were familiar faces from the X-Men, each one smiling, their eyes glistening with happiness. You could see Storm, dressed in an elegant gown, her joy radiating like the sun; and Scott, adjusting his tie nervously as he exchanged glances with Jean, who beamed with pride.

As you walked down the aisle, every gaze felt like a warm embrace, but it was Logan’s eyes that captured you completely. They were a storm of emotions—love, joy, and a hint of disbelief. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you, a blend of excitement and nervousness swirling in your stomach.

When you finally reached him, the world around you faded into a blur. The officiant’s voice was a distant hum as you and Logan locked eyes, the connection palpable and electric. “Do you, [name], take Logan to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The words washed over you, and with a breathless nod, you responded, “I do.”

Logan’s expression softened further, and you could see the man who had fought so hard against his past, now standing before you, ready to embrace a future filled with love. “And do you, Logan, take [name] to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

His voice was steady, but you could feel the depth of his emotion. “I do,” he said, his gaze unwavering, as if he were promising you the very world itself

With vows exchanged and rings slipped onto fingers, the officiant pronounce you husband and wife. The moment was surreal, and as you leaned in for your first kiss, the cheers from your friends and family erupted around you, echoing through the mountains like a joyous song. It felt as though the earth itself rejoiced with you.

As your lips met, you melted into him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body. This was it—the culmination of countless battles, both external and internal, that had brought you here. In that kiss, you tasted the promise of forever, the union of two souls who had weathered storms together and emerged stronger.

When you broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, and you could see the unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “I can’t believe we did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “We did it together, Logan.”

With laughter and tears mingling, you turned to face your loved ones, their faces beaming with joy. The celebration began, filled with music, dancing, and heartfelt speeches. You and Logan shared the first dance, surrounded by twinkling lights strung overhead. As you swayed to the music, he held you close, his heart beating in sync with yours.

“I never thought I could feel this way,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “You’ve changed everything for me.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and you tightened your grip around his neck. “You’ve always been worth it, Logan. You’ve always been worth fighting for.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

The day had finally arrived. After weeks of searching, you and Logan stood in front of your new home, a quaint white picket house nestled against the backdrop of the majestic Canadian Rockies. The sun bathed the landscape in a warm glow, and the air was crisp with the scent of pine and fresh earth. You could hardly believe it; this was the place where you would build your life together.

Logan turned to you, a mix of disbelief and joy on his rugged face. “Can you believe we actually did it?” His voice was husky, filled with emotion as he took in the sight of the house. “This is ours.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, feeling a rush of excitement. You stepped forward to touch the white picket fence, running your fingers along the smooth wood. It felt like a promise of all the memories you would create here.

As you walked toward the front door, Logan’s hand found yours, and together you opened the door to your new life. The inside was a blank canvas, the walls waiting to be filled with laughter and love. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the wooden floors, and you could almost hear the echoes of future footsteps.

“What do you think?” Logan asked, glancing around the living room, where a fireplace stood at the far end, its mantle waiting for family photos and decorations.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, imagining how cozy it would be during the winter months, the two of you snuggled up by the fire with a cup of hot cocoa. “We could put a big, comfy couch here,” you suggested, pointing to a spot just opposite the fireplace. “One where we can all sit together.”

“Yeah, a big one,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “And maybe a couple of armchairs. We could have a reading corner for the kids.”

Your heart swelled at the thought. “And a bookshelf filled with stories. I want to read to them every night,” you added, picturing Logan sitting in that corner, reading to your future children as they nestled against him, their eyes wide with wonder.

“Definitely,” Logan agreed, his expression softening. “I want them to know all the stories I loved as a kid. And maybe some of the ones I never got to hear.”

You took a moment to soak in the atmosphere, a sense of permanence washing over you. “This is where we’ll have our family,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “Can you imagine? Kids running around in the yard, playing in the snow, climbing the trees…”

His eyes sparkled as he pictured it, too. “I can see it now. A little girl with your smile, and a boy who’s just as stubborn as me,” he said with a chuckle.

You laughed, the sound light and airy, but it quickly turned into a heartfelt sigh as you thought of the future. “I want them to have adventures, Logan. To explore this beautiful place, to play in the mountains, to know that they’re safe and loved.”

Logan stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you. “They will be, darlin’. You and me? We’ll make sure of it.” His voice was low and sincere, the weight of his words resting comfortably in your heart.

With a gentle squeeze, he pulled back and surveyed the empty room once more. “What about the kitchen? We need a big table. Somewhere we can all gather for meals.”

“Yes! A big, rustic dining table where we can have family dinners,” you said, your excitement bubbling over.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “And I’ll be the one cooking, right?” He raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Of course!” you laughed, picturing him in an apron with flour dusting his cheeks. “You’ll be the best chef ever. Just don’t burn the pancakes.”

“Hey, I can handle pancakes,” he said, feigning offense, but the warmth in his eyes told you he loved the idea. “And I can teach them to chop vegetables. We’ll have a whole cooking crew.”

You stepped back to take in the space more fully, your mind racing with possibilities. “What about the backyard? We could have a swing set, maybe a little garden. I want the kids to learn how to plant flowers and vegetables.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, his enthusiasm matching yours. “I can build a treehouse, too. Just like I always wanted when I was a kid.”

You could see it clearly—a wooden structure nestled in the branches, a place for your children to escape to, to dream and play. “They’ll love it. Just imagine them up there, playing pirates or explorers.”

Logan’s expression turned serious as he looked at you. “You know, I never thought I’d want a family. Not with everything I’ve been through,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But with you, I see a future. I see them.”

The two of you stood in that empty room, the weight of your dreams and aspirations swirling around you. You could almost hear the laughter of children, the footsteps echoing through the halls, the warmth of family dinners filling the air with love. In that moment, you felt a profound connection—not just to Logan, but to the life you were about to build together.

As you stepped out onto the porch, the mountains stood tall in the distance, a silent witness to your journey. You turned to Logan, your heart brimming with hope. “This is just the beginning, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling you close. “The beginning of everything.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

Logan stood outside, the crisp mountain air filling his lungs as he swung the axe down, splitting the log with a satisfying thud. Each strike resonated with a rhythm that mirrored the steady beat of his heart, a heartbeat that felt more alive than ever since you had come into his life. The chill of the approaching winter nipped at his skin, but the warmth of home—and you—drove him to keep working.

He paused for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow and glancing back at the house. The white picket fence surrounded a place that had become a sanctuary, a home where laughter echoed through the halls. He could hear you inside, probably preparing lunch or tidying up, the sound of your movements a sweet melody he had come to adore.

Just as he was about to lift the axe again, he heard the front door swing open. He turned to see you rushing toward him, a sparkle in your eyes that sent a rush of warmth through him. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “What’s got you in such a hurry, darlin’?”

Before he could even process your words, you launched yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the soft earth. The impact was unexpected, and he landed with a thud, the air whooshing from his lungs. He looked up at you, a mix of surprise and joy flooding through him.

“Logan! I’m pregnant!” you shouted, your face lit up with excitement, eyes sparkling like the stars above the mountains.

For a moment, time froze. The world around him faded, and all he could focus on was you—your smile, the way your hair caught the sunlight, the sheer joy radiating from you. The enormity of your words sank in, and a rush of emotions crashed over him like a wave. He felt the weight of the past lift, replaced by a joy he had never imagined possible.

“Pregnant?” he echoed, disbelief mingling with elation. He blinked several times, trying to absorb the reality of what you had just said. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, a vulnerability he hardly ever allowed himself to show.

You nodded enthusiastically, your laughter bubbling up like a spring. “Yes! We’re going to have a baby!”

Unable to contain himself, Logan pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. The scent of you—warm, comforting, and utterly intoxicating—filled his senses. “Oh, God,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “This is… this is incredible.”

He could feel the tremors of his own body as he held you, the strength of his arms contrasting with the fragility of the moment. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, and he saw the glistening joy reflected in yours. “I didn’t know how you’d react,” you confessed, your voice softening.

“React?” he said, a laugh escaping his lips, a sound he hadn’t made in what felt like ages. “I’m… I’m just so damn happy.”

Tears began to flow freely down his cheeks, and he didn’t care. He was overwhelmed, raw with emotion, the weight of his past, of his fears, melting away in the face of this new life you were bringing into the world. “You’re serious?” he asked again, his heart racing.

“Absolutely,” you said, your voice cracking slightly as you grinned down at him. “I’m going to be a mother, Logan. We’re going to be parents!”

With a sudden surge of energy, he flipped you over, pinning you playfully beneath him in the soft grass. “You’re not just saying this to get out of chores, are you?” he teased, though the joy in his eyes betrayed the lightness of the moment.

You laughed, a sound that filled the air with warmth. “No way! This is the real deal!”

Logan’s heart swelled as he stared into your eyes. In that moment, he understood the depth of the love you shared. This wasn’t just about the two of you anymore; this was the beginning of a family, a legacy that would carry your love forward. The thought filled him with a fierce protectiveness.

With a sudden seriousness, he leaned down, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you both,” he vowed, his voice low and steady. “You have my word.”

“I know you will,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “And I’ll be right there with you.”

As he pulled you into his arms again, the weight of the world felt lighter. The mountains stood tall around you, a testament to the strength of your love. In that moment, Logan knew that he would face anything for you and the life you were about to build together.

“Let’s go inside,” he said eventually, pulling you to your feet and planting a kiss on your forehead. “We’ve got a lot to plan.”

“Like what?” you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Like what color to paint the nursery,” he replied, grinning. “And how to keep this little one from turning into a troublemaker like their old man.”

You laughed, and as you both walked back toward the house, hand in hand, Logan felt a profound sense of peace wash over him. He wasn’t afraid anymore; he was ready to embrace the future. Together, you would create a life filled with love, laughter, and the pitter-patter of little feet.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Life in the mountains wasn’t without its challenges. Logan’s past often cast long shadows over your bright days. He struggled with the demons of his history, moments when his temper flared or when the weight of his past threatened to pull him under. But through it all, you stood by him, reassuring him with your love.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, Logan sat on the porch, staring into the distance. You could see the storm brewing in his eyes. “I’m not the man you think I am,” he said, his voice heavy.

You sat beside him, taking his hand in yours. “You’re my husband and the father of our children. That’s all that matters.”

“But I’ve done things… seen things that haunt me,” he replied, anguish lacing his words.

“I know,” you said softly. “But that doesn’t define you. You’re here now, and you’re doing your best. Our kids don’t see the past; they see the man who loves them.”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, the turmoil in his eyes slowly giving way to understanding. “I don’t want to hurt you or them.”

“You won’t,” you promised. “We’re a team. No matter what comes, we’ll face it together.”

“Now, come on. The kids want you inside for dinner.” you smiled and stood, taking his hand.

—-----------------------------------------------------

As the years rolled on, the mountains witnessed the growth of your family, each day filled with new adventures and cherished moments. You built snowmen in the winter, hiked through vibrant autumn leaves, and spent lazy summer days by the lake. The love that filled your home was palpable, a warm glow that could weather any storm.

One crisp autumn evening, as the leaves danced in the wind, Logan pulled you aside. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice steady.

You looked up at him, heart racing. “About what?”

“About us. About everything we’ve built together.” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

Those words hung in the air, a promise and a confession. You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love and the journey you had taken together.

“Logan…” you whispered, your heart swelling.

He stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. “I’m not afraid of my past. I’m not afraid of losing you or our kids. You’ve shown me what love really is, and I’m ready to embrace it all. I’m not afraid anymore.”

In that moment, you knew that whatever trials lay ahead, you would face them together. The mountains stood tall behind you, the stars beginning to twinkle overhead as you shared a kiss, sealing your promise of love. With Logan by your side, you were ready to conquer the world.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Years passed, and your children grew, but the love between you and Logan remained as strong as ever. You often found yourselves reflecting on the journey—a wedding in the mountains, a home filled with laughter, and the beauty of family.

As you and Logan sat together on the porch, watching your daughter and son play in the leaves, you leaned against him, feeling content. “Can you believe how far we’ve come?” you asked, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s been a hell of a ride,” he replied, his arm pulling you closer.

“And I wouldn’t trade a single moment,” you said, your heart full.

“I love you,” he murmured, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too, Logan. Always.”

And as the sun set behind the mountains, you knew that everything would be alright.

[saddleups]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 .

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . drabble , complete. JAMES SUNDERLAND X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . shower sex . vaginal sex ( p in v ) . handjob . "good boy" praise . p_rn w/o plot.

★ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . . your boyfriend james is rewarded with some much needed relaxation.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . as promised here is that james drabble . thought mentioning the events of sh2 were unnecessary considering this is just an ..... indulgent drabble . nonetheless i hope you enjoy it :')

A single light casts a soft glow on the book in your hand, keeping you company in the stillness of the evening. The sudden rattle of the doorknob snaps you upright on the couch, your head tilting over the edge to catch a glimpse of the intruder. James steps in, clumsily trying to hide a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine behind his back.

“Hey, handsome,”

James surrenders a quiet laugh, “thought you’d be in bed. It’s late.”

You nod. “Couldn’t sleep.” You push yourself up from the couch. “Laura’s at a sleepover. The apartment feels ... strange without her.”

You stand, stretching out the stiffness in your limbs as James steps closer. “No phone call from Laura,” you say, more to yourself than to him. “She must be having a good time.”

James nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “She’s stronger than she seems. We have to trust she’s out there having fun, being a normal kid.”

You sigh, glancing toward the silent phone on the coffee table. “I know,” you murmur, “but it’s hard not to worry.”

James shifts the bouquet and wine bottle, trying to free his hands. You step forward and gently take them from him. The flowers are a mix of soft pastels, still dewy from the cool evening air. “These are beautiful,” you say, setting them on the table before turning back to him.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” James says, already tugging at the collar of his shirt. He leans down, his lips brushing yours in a brief, tender kiss. “Be right out.”

You watch him head toward the bathroom, the quiet warmth of the moment lingering as the soft click of the door echoes through the empty apartment.

The faucet hums to life, the sound of rushing water filling the pipes and vibrating through the quiet apartment. James undresses with practiced ease, eager to shed the day’s worries. As the bathroom fills with steam, he steps into the shower, letting out a low groan as the warm water cascades over his skin, washing away the tension he’s carried all day.

Unbeknownst to him, you slip quietly into the bathroom. The fogged mirror and billowing steam cloak your movements, and you shed your clothes without a sound.

As you step into the shower behind him, James jumps slightly, startled by your presence. But when your hands find their way to his shoulders, the initial shock dissolves. He exhales, his body softening under your touch as the warm water rains down on both of you.

“You scared me,” he mutters, though there's a humor in his tone.

You smile, sliding your hands gently along his back. “Sorry,” you whisper. “Just thought you could use some company.”

He leans into you, the day's stresses melting away under the warm spray of the shower. The feeling of his body against yours is like a perfect puzzle piece fitting into place. Your hands glide over his back, kneading away any lingering tension and eliciting a content hum from him.

But you want more. You crave the intimacy that only comes from being pressed together, skin to skin. So you take a step forward, your breasts pressing against his back as your hands trail down his body. They come to rest on his hip bone, fingers greedily tracing the contours of his muscles and sliding down to his growing arousal.

James closes his eyes and swallows hard, trying to control the building groan in his throat. "Please," he whispers urgently.

Your eyebrow quirks in amusement, but you can't resist teasing him just a little longer. "Hmm, what was that?" you ask innocently.

"Please," he repeats, desperation creeping into his voice. "I-I need it." A smirk crosses your lips as you plant open-mouthed kisses along his back, trailing down to the curve of his neck. "What do you need, baby?" you murmur seductively.

"I need you," he pleads, unable to hold back any longer.

"Are you gonna be a good boy?" Your palm ghosts over his growing length.

With urgency James responds, "yes, I promise."

Your manicured fingers grip James' impressive girth in your palm, feeling the weight and heat of him pulsing against your skin. Giving it a gentle squeeze, you tug on his cock with a slow and deliberate motion. James shudders beneath your touch, completely under your control. He extends his arm outward to rest a palm against the shower wall, steadying himself as his body responds to your expert movements.

The jerking motions you provide find an erratic rhythm, teasing and tantalizing as you explore every inch of James' length. Occasionally, a thumb visits the vibrant tip, eliciting a guttural moan from him and further intensifying the ecstasy building in the pit of his stomach. As he mutters a string of curses under his breath, James' eyes stay closed, lost in the pleasure you are giving him.

Feeling his orgasm growing close, you loosen your grip and slow your movements. James opens his eyes, whining at the loss of the incredible sensation. In response, he turns towards you, revealing his hardened cock in all its glory. A breathless gasp flutters from your chest at the sight before you. Without many words exchanged between you two, James presses your frame against the cool tile behind you.

The showerhead bathes you both in a stream of warm water, adding to the steamy scene unfolding between you. The moisture in the air enhances your senses, making everything feel even more heightened and intense.

You share an open mouth kiss with James, your tongues clashing for dominance as raw desire takes over. His primal nature overtakes him, leaving you speechless and completely consumed by passion.

James' hands roam your body hungrily, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You arch into his touch, craving more. The water cascades over your entwined forms as he lifts you effortlessly, pinning you against the slick tile. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer.

You can feel the thick head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance. With a low growl, James captures your lips again as he slowly pushes inside. The delicious stretch as he fills you completely draws a moan from deep in your throat.

For a moment, you're both still, savoring the exquisite sensation of being joined.

"Am I your good boy?" he asks below a whisper.

"Yes, yes!"

At your response, James begins to move, setting a steady rhythm that has you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Your mouth falls open as a small cry escapes from your lips. James takes advantage of this and begins to kiss along your neck, extending his hand to find your breast. His fingers gently explore the curves and contours of your body.

Your body trembles as James' skilled fingers tease and caress, sending sparks of electricity through your nerves. The dual sensations of his thrusting cock and roaming hands threaten to overwhelm you completely. You tilt your head back against the tile, exposing more of your neck to his hungry kisses.

James' pace increases, his hips snapping forward with growing urgency. The sound of skin meeting skin mingles with your shared moans and the steady patter of the shower. You can feel the coil of pleasure tightening low in your belly, winding tighter with each powerful thrust.

"James," you gasp, your voice barely audible over the rushing water. "I'm close..."

He responds by sliding a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot with practiced ease. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear. Your inner walls clench around him as your orgasm approaches.

The dual sensations of James' skilled fingers and his relentless thrusts send sparks of pleasure radiating through your body. You tilt your head back, giving him better access to the sensitive skin of your throat. His lips and teeth graze your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine. "You're so beautiful." He breathes into your skin.

The water continues to rain down on you both, amplifying every touch and caress. Droplets cling to James' eyelashes as he looks up at you, his gaze dark with desire. You're captivated by the raw need you see there, mirroring your own desperate want.

James shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. The new position has him hitting that perfect spot inside you with each movement. Your breath catches in your throat as the coil of pleasure in your core winds tighter and tighter.

"James," you gasp out, your voice barely audible over the sound.

As you struggle to catch your breath amidst the cascading water, the intensity of James' thrusts brings you closer and closer to the edge. "Please, James," you whimper, barely able to speak as pleasure courses through every nerve in your body.

He groans in response, his own voice a symphony of desire. "Hold on, baby. I'm almost there too."

Pressing his body against yours, he meets your gaze with an intense stare. You feel every inch of his thick cock engulfing you, sending you into a dizzying state of ecstasy. With mouths agape, you both moan into each other's mouths as the knot of tension finally releases.

Streams of James' hot cum bloom inside you, connecting you both in slick, pulsating pleasure. His cock exits your throbbing cunt and you marvel at the sight before you, panting and trembling with pure bliss.

Your bodies remain pressed together as you both come down from the intense high of your shared climax. The warm water continues to cascade over you, washing away the evidence of your passion. James' forehead rests against yours, his breath coming in short pants that mingle with your own.

Slowly, he lowers you back to your feet, keeping his arms around you for support as your legs tremble. You lean into him, savoring the feeling of his solid chest against your cheek. For a moment, you simply stand there in a tender embrace, letting the afterglow wash over you both.

James tilts your chin up, capturing your lips in a soft, languid kiss. It's a stark contrast to the frenzied passion of moments before, but no less intense. When you finally part, his eyes are filled with warmth and affection.

"That was…" he begins, trailing off unable to find the words.

"Good," you suggest.

"More than good."

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: Aquamarine

A/n: You admit to Billie that you miss her presence while she's on tour, and she works with you to find the best solution to ease your worries.

"What about Blohsh? I can make him special, just for you," you feel Billie pulling you closer to him, making himself a little more comfortable on the bed than before: his back against the high wooden headboard, but his arms around your waist. The cozy rustle of the bedclothes and the warmth of the person next to you can't help but bring a smile, "something like engraving with my handwriting or new gems?"

"Sounds good, of course, but I'd like something more... mysterious? You know, something that's only understandable to you and me and no one else," you feel Billie snuggle her nose into your shoulder and snort contentedly. Her measured, warm breath tickles your skin even through the fabric of your voluminous T-shirt, sending a flock of goosebumps. Another, more vivid one follows, triggered by her intimate whisper:

"What do you remember most often when I'm not around?"

You hesitate, because to pick out one thing about Billie is something that's really maddeningly difficult. Eilish doesn't rush you, just strokes your naked thighs, draws patterns on your belly that only she understands, and just enjoys the night's silence, so rare for her, so mind-soothing.

"Your eyes. I remember very often the looks you cast at me."

"And what do my eyes remind you of? What do they look like?", Eilish almost purrs with pleasure as you rest your head on her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of her sly, squinting blue seas.

"Aquamarine? Or is it still blue topaz?"

"Thought about it that often?" - The singer clarifies, surprised by your so quick response.

"That's insulting, Eilish", you hum and lift yourself up a little, your palm fumbling for the phone buried in the huge blanket. It's not easy to do in the semi-darkness of the bedroom, but you manage it successfully, "I'm always thinking of you."

A gentle kiss on the top of your head as you assume your original position, returning to your girlfriend's arms. Compliment counts.

The pleasant click of the unlock takes you straight to the gallery on your phone, echoing your thoughts. A click on a recent photo, an attempt to zoom in with a gesture that almost immediately fails: Billy gently takes the phone right out of your palm. Followed by a click and a husky chuckle.

"You can look me in the eye, baby. Why do you need pictures when I'm literally behind your back?"

You freeze for a second, only then realizing the absurdity of the situation. Covering your face with your hands, you only provoke another wave of good-natured laughter.

"Look at me, my love."

The sheets rustle again: you turn obediently toward her, meeting her gaze. Then the silence fills the room again, broken harmoniously only by your breathing together. And the more you stare, the more the cool ocean blue in her eyes seems to be obscured by a misty haze, becoming several shades darker and more intense, which portends a storm of at least six points on the Beaufort scale - Eilish is getting excited, because the realization that all your attention and curiosity is now directed only to her is so pleasantly exhilarating. You realize that you feel as if you are the only white-sailed ship that the sea itself has allowed to ply her surface on this endless moonlit night. You realize you're about to drown. Because you want to.

"So what's the bottom line...?" - her whisper is practically at your lips. And even though she's lost all sense of patience, the gambling is much stronger now. - "What stone shall I present?"

"Aquamarine."

It's the last thing you say before you meet Eilish's hot lips, drowning in hot and assertive kisses.

The calm of your bedroom has been replaced by passion as quickly as the weather at sea.

[edenesth]

The Mapmaker's Assistant

Pairing: cartographer!Jongho x assistant!reader

Word Count: 1k

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

"Leave my establishment at once! Women are not allowed here, don't you see the sign? Oh, my apologies, you must be illiterate."

Anger surged through you as you endured the discriminatory treatment from the owner of the parchment shop. Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself, determined to complete your task without trouble, "In case you haven't heard me the first time, I'm Sir Jongho's assistant, and I'm here for the latest batch of parchment."

The elderly man seemed unfazed, responding with a smirk, "Do you truly think I'm foolish enough to believe a woman could be the great mapmaker's assistant? Show yourself out, or I won't be so kind, lass."

Frustration welled up in your eyes at his condescending words, but you stood your ground. The man scowled, seemingly ready to approach you and teach you a lesson.

Before he could take another step, a familiar and reassuring hand rested on the small of your back, "Is everything alright, my dear? What's taking so long?" Relief washed over you instantly.

The shop owner immediately bowed in respect, stammering, "Sir Jongho, y-you know this young lady?" Your boss nodded, "Indeed, didn't she inform you that she's my assistant?"

Despite Jongho's friendly smile, it was evident that beneath the surface, he was far from calm. There was no doubt he'd overheard the cruel words hurled at you just moments ago.

The elderly man's demeanour quickly shifted, clearly eager to avoid falling out of favour with the cartographer, "Oh, why didn't you say so, my lady? Let me prepare your order now." Your irritation flared at his audacity to act as if he hadn't just verbally abused you.

Unable to contain yourself, you spoke up, "Did I not make that clear? I distinctly remember stating it twice. All you did was insult me repeatedly simply because I'm a woman."

Jongho's smile disappeared, "Is that true?"

The shop owner stuttered, attempting to make up excuses for his behaviour, but your boss' expression only grew darker at the lack of accountability displayed, "No need to explain. If you cannot show respect to women, I'm afraid our business cannot continue. There are plenty of other parchment shops in town, after all."

With one final sarcastic curtsy, you exited the shop, holding your head high, content that justice had been served.

Before departing, Jongho cast one last cold glance at the pathetic shop owner, "Remember this: that woman is not only my assistant, but she is to be my future wife. Disrespect her again, and you might find your shop permanently blacklisted. Do you understand?"

The man nodded shakily, stammering, "Y-yes, sir! You have my word!"

Throughout the remainder of the day, your boss made continuous efforts to make amends for subjecting you to the unpleasant ordeal. You sighed for the hundredth time as he apologised again for sending you to the shop.

Typically, the mapmaker would handle parchment collection himself, but after the two of you had just returned from an expedition to the farthest corner of Wonderland to obtain precise measurements of newly acquired land, there were other pressing tasks at hand. He opted to delegate the errand to you for the first time, only to witness you facing humiliation instead.

Jongho knew better than anyone you were so much stronger than you seemed. After all, it was precisely your unwavering fighting spirit that had secured your role as his assistant. Your keen interest in mapmaking, coupled with your determination to pursue it as a future profession, was what caught his attention.

A few years ago, you crossed his path while picking herbs for your mother during one of his expeditions. He recalled being impressed by your knowledge of cartography. He will never forget how you boldly requested that he teach you more about the craft.

Initially waving you off, he couldn't anticipate the depth of your persistence. You followed him back to his workshop, pleading that he gave you a chance. Jongho eventually relented and allowed you to assist, assuming the demanding nature of the job would deter you. To his surprise, you not only persevered but excelled, proving him wrong with your daily commitment.

In time, he embraced you wholeheartedly, and little did you know, he may or may not have developed feelings for you. The mapmaker had never met anyone who shared the same passion for his work or understood him as profoundly as you did.

As he watched you deep in concentration, working beside him one day, he knew you were the one for him. And he had been waiting for the right moment to let his feelings be known.

Perhaps today would be the day for that.

After witnessing what you had endured, he could no longer remain passive. He felt an overwhelming urge to be the one to defend you, even though he recognised your capability to handle situations independently.

"Jongho, there's no need to apologise. I promise you, I'm fine." You reassured him as you set down the tools you had been arranging. Turning to face him, you found him frowning.

"Yeah, well, I'm not." He retorted.

You scoffed, "This isn't the first time it's happened, and it won't be the last. There's no use dwelling on it. Why are you more affected by this than I am?"

"Because you're precious to me!"

His candid declaration left you momentarily still, wondering if this was a confession. Knowing there was no turning back from here, Jongho reached for your hand, "Listen to me. I won't allow anyone to treat you like that again. You... you're the woman I love, and I want to be the one to protect you, if you'll let me."

With a cheeky smile, you nonchalantly shrugged and squeezed his hand, "Alright, if you insist," You playfully conceded. He chuckled, pulling you closer, "Is that all? Won't you say you love me too?"

His warm touch melted your heart, but you maintained a composed facade. Pretending to ponder, you teased, "Hm, only if you ask nicely," He grinned, obliging, "Will you tell me you love me, please?"

Satisfied, you nodded, "I love you too, Sir Jongho. Now kiss me." He didn't need to be told twice.

From that moment onward, the entire town would remember you not only as the mapmaker's assistant but as his cherished fiancée. Jongho continues to fall deeper in love with you with each passing day, witnessing your ability to inspire girls nationwide to pursue their dreams and defy anyone attempting to dictate their paths.

Asdfghjkl 300+ followers?! Thank you all so much, I have no words. Hoping this one's decent, y'all let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[talleyuh]

just finished the bear season 3 and there is such a collective cognitive dissonance from everywhere from the writing of the show all the way to the social media marketing.

i know i’m biased because i particularly like syd and carmy together, but this season was strange but in different ways than the last season was strange.

not only does carmy take a backseat as a protagonist about halfway through, he and syd have hardly any scenes together, but i think the show almost suffers for it. this season was certainly funnier than the last, but the neil and ted fak got old and old fast. it certainly doesn’t help that even though carmy has a new arc every season, but he doesn’t take the lessons he should’ve learned into how he should act going forward. it’s stunting his growth and now that we have three seasons to compare to one another, it’s only more apparent.

we’ve already talked about how funny characters are stronger than comic relief characters and that’s essentially what the faks are. i really liked neil’s more vulnerable moments where he got to be taken seriously but it’s hard to take him seriously when all of his screen time is him doing stupid shit. also the hauntings thing? it really was not that funny.

also the show is making such an active attempt to rewrite its own history and i don’t understand why. so many little details that connect moments from the past and present to make up who the characters are and yet it’s kind of being thrown out the window.

claire being described as carmy’s peace threw me for a loop because he felt out of place in his own relationship. i think we all know the clip of carmy’s late s2 panic attack where thinking of claire and him together makes it worse but now we are given so many more scenes of when he was happy? what narrative are they trying to spin here? was carmy genuinely in love with claire or mostly disinterested, because it can’t be both.

even claire doesn’t seem interested in being with carmy at this point, and who can blame her?

her presence was just kind of weird to me, because she didn’t really interact with the rest of the cast until the 9th episode. i think her brief hospital scenes were to flesh her out more, but it’s really just creating vulnerabilities and revealing the seams. and because she’s never really been developed as much as everyone else in the series, we’re left with more questions. who was that in her bed? why was she never fired for insane medical malpractice? what is any of this for?

also a lot of the lighting this season has changed. i saw one user (can’t remember who but their post was super interesting) mention how much warmer and inviting the scenes with syd are as opposed to the coolness and almost detachment the scenes with claire were. except we see carmy in cool lighting a lot more this season.

i also wanted to add where carmy gets overwhelmed in the finale, thoughts of claire coming in with a violin sting like a horror movie doesn’t add to the narrative that they keep telling us. that’s another thing i noticed. they tell us how great claire was even though their time together hindered him being involved with his passions and his coworkers, but they retcon things and add scenes of them happy and have carmy tell us how amazing she is but they barely cared to show us.

a huge theme in this show is family and responsibility. and the scene where neil fak said claire could be the one to take care of carmy and vice versa really rubbed me the wrong way. first of all, i think it kind of supports the idea of codependency which isn’t great but i could be reaching. second, carmy isn’t really equipped to take care of anyone and i think the way he interacts with his coworkers when he’s frustrated is proof of that.

don’t get me wrong, i thought this season was amazing television, christopher storer is a brilliant writer and director, joanna calo really should helm more episodes bc ice chips was actually a perfect episode, and ayo getting the opportunity to direct tina’s episode was so amazing and i really hope i see her name in more directorial projects in the near future. but i think we’re getting a little lost in the plot here and losing sight of what the heart of the show is. the literal restaurant. and logically some of the decisions made don’t exactly hold up and i would hate to see this show fumble.

it can’t be a coincidence that so much of the show’s marketing is tied to carmy and syd and i think efforts to trick the audience are actually making the show suffer. or the increasingly less subtle decisions in the editing in the few scenes of them together? are you really gonna gaslight a whole audience for the sake of a misdirect?

[silhouetteonpaper]

Mind and Matter

Summary: When your plan to save New York goes awry, Natasha decides there’s only one person to blame. Natasha x Reader & Wanda x Reader WC: 1,502 Warnings: fighting, use of powers on each other, going unconscious A/N: Just something short and sweet for tonight! I hope you enjoy <3

“It’s the only option.” You explain to the team as they wrack their minds for any plausible idea on how to save the city. A villain with access to the Power Stone is currently wreaking havoc on the town just outside the window, millions of lives at stake. The only idea you can think of is attempting to stop him using your own powers created by the Power Stone. 

You’re immediately met with adverse reactions. “You know our number one rule, we don’t trade lives.” Steve speaks up, making you roll your eyes.

“C’mon, have a little faith in me. If it were anyone else, you’d be all in.” You argue with crossed arms. Nat steps up, calming you before things get too heated.

“Hey, you know that’s not true. It’s not that we don’t think you can do it; it’s purely too big a risk.” She assures, exchanging a nod with Steve. You relent with a deep breath, nodding back at the two. They’re right, it’s a risky move. But that’s not to say you aren’t willing to take that chance in order to save millions.

Tony’s next to offer an idea. “Alright, so no sacrificing the kid.” You elbow him in the ribs, receiving a shrug in response. “What about combining the stone’s effects? Two is stronger than one…” He has a point, making you raise an eyebrow to see what the rest of the team thinks.

“You could be onto something. Wanda? How do you feel about that?” Steve directs his attention to the redhead off to the side of the room. She seems to be more focused on the destruction outside, rather than the planning happening right before her.

“That’d surely be safer. Are you okay with it?” Wanda looks to you, her gaze making you swallow any fears before they even had a chance to rise.

“I’m game.” You tell the group with a deep breath. Everyone nods reassuringly, a plan quickly coming into place. With the combined energy of two stones, the Power and Mind Stone, maybe there’d be a chance at saving the city. There’s only one way to find out.

After a brief moment of preparing to expel an extreme amount of energy, you find yourself out on the streets of New York City amongst the chaos. Screaming herds of people flee the streets, leaving an open space for you and Wanda to battle it out with the hooded figure wielding a purple crystal.

Before he noticed the two of you preparing, Wanda called out her signal. “You ready?” She spoke over her earpiece, both of you on opposite sides of the enemy hiding behind whatever debris kept you unnoticed.

“Ready!” You responded, waiting for her ‘go’ before jumping into action. Within seconds, a purple beam of light shoots from your hands into the depths of the street. Each fragment of light makes your arms burn, the sensation filling your entire abdomen.

A red streak of energy omits from the other side of the hooded figure, each beam finding its way to the enemy as you and Wanda push harder and harder to destroy him. The heat inside of you rises, the fiery feeling flowing inside your veins as the purple glow grows stronger. A bright orb surrounds the figure, a protective move cast by the one wielding the stone.

Every ounce of energy you can spare is targeted towards him, the little gleam of the power stone almost taunting you with how close it is. The tiny stone that causes so much destruction, yet also is the reason you harness so much power. Now in the wrong hands, you feel a sense of hatred towards it, yet you can’t deny it has offered you so much power in the right hands—your own hands.

“He’s breaking! Keep going!” You barely hear Tony’s words of encouragement over the strain in your chest, the aching feeling of everything you have being sent out before you. So close, just a little longer and you’ll have successfully saved New York.

But after only another moment of being blinded by your own power, you notice the glowing orb is gone, the hooded figure now flying up in the sky. It only takes a second for the red beam to hit you dead in the chest, your entire world going black.

“No!” Wanda yells, her red energy soon dissipating like a gust of wind. Her feet pound the concrete as she approaches your unconscious body, but not before a certain someone stops her.

“Get away from her,” Natasha runs over, wasting no time to bend down and check your pulse. Her expression reveals the seriousness of the situation before Steve and Tony have even caught their breath at your side. “She’s barely breathing, we have to get her to the med bay. Let’s move!”

Scooping you up and bringing you back towards the compound before losing your pulse, the team barely has time to see Wanda overcome with guilt. As her eyes fill with tears while rushing after you, she places every ounce of responsibility on herself.

There’s barely any time to sit and sulk, Natasha laying you down in the med bay as Bruce quickly hooks up machines to keep you alive. “What happened out there?” He asks with concern, noticing the purple skin around your chest. Natasha only shakes her head at him, eyeing Wanda who now stands in the corner pacing back and forth.

After hours of waiting, hours of wishing things went differently, Nat finds herself sitting by your bed in the white-walled room, thinking to herself of how she could’ve prevented this. It isn’t until you move your hand under hers that she notices you’re awake.

A deep breath of relief makes you smile as your eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, thank goodness.” She breathes, her thumb rubbing over your hand. You spend a moment taking your current state into account. Nothing is broken… but wow, your abdomen hurts.

“Did we do it? Did we get the stone back?” You ask with a small sense of hope. Natasha’s slow head shake destroys any ounce of that, though. She continues to gaze at you, a worried expression still covering her face.

“Will you worry about yourself for once?” She questions, her own instinct to protect you stronger now that you’re lying here injured.

“I’ll have to ask Tony how.” You tease, finally making Natasha laugh. Now it’s your turn to take a breath of relief, that is until you remember the events from earlier.

The image of Wanda’s red beam of light makes you flinch. “Wanda! Is she alright?” You ask with concern. Now recalling what happened, you know that Wanda would only blame herself for the terrible accident.

“She’ll be okay, you need to rest and recover right now.” Natasha attempts to reassure you, but it doesn’t work.

“Please get Wanda, I need to be sure she isn’t blaming herself.” You demand, watching as Nat raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s not her fault! Nat, please!” Giving in to your pleas, Natasha stands and heads out of the room.

Only a few minutes pass before a familiar face enters, covered entirely in an expression you expected. Guilt. Wanda takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting at the edge of the bed before you pat the side, giving her explicit permission to sit next to you.

Still, she keeps to herself and is cautious to move the bed too much. It’s unlike her, and you can tell something is wrong. You start to talk her out of it before she interrupts. “Wanda-“ 

“No, this is completely my fault. I’m so sorry, I was so focused on putting all I had into my defense that I wasn’t quick enough to change direction…” Wanda explained, tears beginning to fall from her eyes once more.

“This isn’t your fault Wanda, I promise I don’t blame you. It was a sneaky move on his part, we couldn’t have predicted that.” You console her in hopes she drops the accusation.

“No, no, I should’ve been more careful-“ 

You’re quick to interrupt her this time. “No, Wanda. Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You were working so hard, no one can blame you for that. The only way I can be 100% alright is if you are too, okay?” You express. She only nods, a small heartfelt smile creeping onto her face as you reach for her hand.

That’s when Natasha walks back into the room, making your focus shift. “And you, forgive Wanda, please. It’s no one’s fault. The quicker you guys resolve your issues, the faster I’m back out on the field.” You tell her firmly.

The silence is broken as soon as she laughs, walking up to Wanda to put a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, alright. But just because you helped us feel better doesn’t mean you’re healed. You still need to rest.” Nat voices. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling in defeat.

“Damn it.”

[its-avalon-08]

God I love your stories ! Do you think you could write a story about daniel and the reader who are a couple, maybe the reader is the daughter of a great f1 driver who died in an accident when she was little. So when Daniel has a pretty serious crash and is taken to the hospital, she takes the first plane to come see him and all her past traumas come out...

can't do this again (dr3)

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, mentions of crash, loss, death of father, tears, fluffy ending

Y/N sat on the plush couch in her living room, the television casting flickering lights across the room as the Formula 1 race roared on. Daniel was leading the pack, his skill and precision evident with every turn. She had always loved watching him race, despite the anxiety that knotted her stomach every time he took to the track.

But then, it happened.

The camera cut to Daniel’s car, spinning out of control, crashing into the barriers with a sickening thud. The commentators’ voices turned frantic as they described the scene, and Y/N felt her world tilt on its axis.

It was just like her father’s crash. The same helpless feeling, the same gut-wrenching fear.

Without another thought, she grabbed her phone, booking the first flight to the city where the race was held. Her heart pounded, memories of her father’s fatal crash flooding her mind.

She was just a child then, sitting in her mother’s lap, watching her father’s car crash into the barriers, flames licking at the wreckage. She remembered the cold, sterile hospital room, the smell of antiseptic, and the tears that never seemed to stop.

Hours later, she rushed into the hospital, her legs trembling as she found Daniel’s room. Her breath hitched at the sight of him, lying motionless on the bed, connected to various machines that beeped softly.

“Oh, Daniel,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she approached his bed. She took his hand in hers, feeling the warmth of his skin, a stark contrast to the cold fear gripping her heart.

”Daddy!” she had cried, her tiny hands gripping her mother’s, eyes wide with fear as they watched the doctors work frantically. Her father never woke up, leaving a void that never truly healed.

“Please wake up,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t go through this again.”

She sank into the chair beside his bed, her sobs shaking her entire body. “You have to fight, Daniel. You’re stronger than this. You promised you’d always come back to me.”

Her father had promised the same, whispering comforting words to her before each race. “I’ll be back, princess. I always come back.” But he hadn’t. He never came back.

Y/N rested her forehead on their entwined hands, the memories overwhelming her. “I love you so much,” she whispered. “I need you to wake up. I need you to be okay.”

Hours passed, her tears subsiding but the ache in her chest persisting. She kept talking to him, her voice soft and trembling. “Remember our first date? How you took me to that tiny Italian restaurant and we got caught in the rain on the way back? You wrapped your jacket around me, and we laughed like we didn’t have a care in the world.”

Her father had done similarly, setting her on his shoulders as they walked back from a race track, the rain pouring down but their spirits high. They had laughed together, her father’s hand warm and reassuring in hers.

“Please, Daniel,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Don’t leave me. I can’t go through this again. I need you here with me. I need you to wake up and smile at me, to tell me everything will be okay.”

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the hospital window, Daniel stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. Y/N gasped, her heart leaping with hope. “Daniel? Can you hear me?”

He turned his head slowly, his eyes finding hers, filled with pain but also with recognition. “Y/N,” he croaked, his voice raspy. “What… what happened?”

Tears of relief streamed down her face as she kissed his hand. “You had a crash, but you’re going to be okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

Daniel squeezed her hand weakly, his gaze softening. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She shook her head, leaning closer. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. I can’t lose you, Daniel. I can’t lose you like I lost my father.”

His eyes filled with understanding and determination. “I promise, Y/N. I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll always come back to you.”

And in that moment, Y/N knew that while the scars of her past would never fully heal, she had found someone who would help her carry the weight, someone who would always come back to her, no matter what.

a few hours later

Y/N sat by Daniel's bedside, carefully feeding him small spoonfuls of soup. Each movement was tender and deliberate, her eyes never leaving his face. Daniel watched her, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the pain that lingered in his body.

She took a deep breath, her voice gentle but filled with emotion. "Daniel, I don't think I've ever told you just how much you mean to me. How much I love you."

He looked at her, his eyes locking with hers. "I know you do, Y/N. But hearing you say it… it means the world to me."

She smiled, her eyes welling up with tears again. "When I saw your crash on TV, it felt like my heart stopped. It brought back all the memories of my father, of losing him so suddenly. I was so scared, Daniel. I was so scared that I might lose you too."

Daniel reached out, his hand weakly grasping hers. "I'm here, Y/N. I'm right here."

She nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "I know. But I need you to understand just how much you mean to me. You're my rock, my safe place. You bring so much light into my life, and I can't imagine a world without you in it."

Flashbacks of her father filled her mind. The way he used to scoop her up and spin her around, his laughter echoing in their home. The way he’d tuck her into bed at night, reading her favorite stories until she fell asleep. And the way he’d always come back from his races, smiling and lifting her into his arms.

"You’re everything to me, Daniel," she continued, her voice breaking. "You make me laugh, you make me feel safe, and you make me believe in love again. I never thought I could feel this way after losing my dad, but you… you changed everything for me."

Daniel’s eyes softened, tears gathering at the corners. "Y/N, you’ve changed my life too. I think about you all the time, especially when I’m on the track. You’re my inspiration, my reason to keep pushing. Even when I crashed, my last thought before I hit the barriers was you. I was thinking about you, about how much I love you and how I wanted to come back to you."

She fed him another spoonful of soup, her hands trembling slightly. "I need you to be careful, Daniel. I can’t go through that kind of pain again. I can’t lose you. I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of yourself, that you’ll come back to me every time."

He nodded, his gaze intense and filled with determination. "I promise, Y/N. I’ll be more careful. I’ll do everything I can to make sure I come back to you. Because I love you more than anything. You’re my everything."

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Thank you, Daniel. For everything. For loving me, for being there for me, for giving me hope."

He smiled weakly, his hand caressing her cheek. "And thank you, Y/N, for being my light in the darkness. For giving me a reason to fight, to come back. I love you more than words can ever say."

As she fed him another spoonful, their eyes met, and in that shared moment, they both knew that their love was stronger than any fear or trauma. It was a love that could withstand the darkest of times and emerge even stronger on the other side.

[partycatty]

was requested to write interviewer!reader by this lovely post so here we are. @super-ssimp

johnny cage > interview

you, a reporter, have some questions for the hollywood heartbreaker. he just can't seem to focus on your questions.

notes: heheheheeggeheegehehegeh he's so fine in the gif i'm gonna shit everywhere

[ masterlist ]

• a box-office smash hit dropped after a long quiet period from hit star johnny cage, back stronger than ever with a movie that blew audiences away with its storytelling and casting. you had to squeeze in an interview with the director, cage himself. you were a part of a big company, front lining with interviews and now face to face with probably one of the most attractive men you'd ever worked with.

• johnny sat in his chair across from you, adjusting his hips ever so slightly in his seat as he holds intense eye contact with you. you return the stare, as hard as it is while a makeup specialist tidied up the powder on your brow.

• "you look great, doll," he's quick to charm, pointing a finger with a grin. "don't sweat this. you'll be fine."

• "i know i'll be," you return his affirmations with your own confidence, a beaming grin on your features that makes his breath hitch. "i've been in this job for nine years, mr. cage. we just haven't met."

• "what.. a.. shame," his voice is teasing, somehow his flirtations come off as honey smooth rather than sleazy. you scoff playfully, earning a laugh from the both of you. two assistants clip microphones to your tops, testing them quickly and hearing a full go-ahead to begin the interview.

• "i'm here with johnny cage, director of the new smash hit 'mortal kombat,'" your voice is smooth, experienced. "i suppose my first question is; what inspired such a story? it's unlike anything we've seen in films."

• the question seemingly didn't register at first, his faraway gaze blocking his thoughts. realizing his flaw, johnny snaps into celebrity mode, "oh, hrm — the ideas that came to me were because of a massive arc in my life. uh — without getting too into it, i was at a low point in the last year, running myself into the dirt. something changed and i wanted to be the new, young, and pretty one behind the camera for once rather than in front of it. i spent the entire summer writing and consulting some friends of mine and we were able to pull this film together based on our relationships and experiences. you won't see anything else like it because there isn't anything else like it. i was inspired by my life, and there is no other johnny cage in this timeline than the one you're talkin' to."

• you nod and agree, face hot at the way his expression lights up with passion as he walks you through his process. "right, and this was after a long hiatus, was it not? there were, rumors, so to speak—"

• "my divorce?" he cuts you off with a glint in his eye as he toys with his ring. "no need to dance around it, i suppose. yeah, different life paths, but i'm a changed man. single and ready to mingle as soon as me and my team crank out some projects we've had in the works."

• "so you confirm yourself to be single? confirming the rumors?" you clarify, leaning forward in interest — whether it was for your own or for the public's, you wouldn't disclose.

• "why?" his question catches you off guard. johnny rests a hand on his chin, tilting his head as he squints. a large grin creeps up onto his lips. "you interested?"

• you tense up, nervously giggling as your eyes dart around the small production team who is trying equally as hard to not laugh at your position. you were trained and professional and yet this man turned you into a blushing mess for all cameras to see. "that's not my question, mr. cage—"

• "—johnny," he interrupts you, pose unmoving. "the pretty ones get to call me johnny."

• what was he getting at? your notecards feel unreadable and your brain's fuzzing from the sudden attention. he was a pretty man, that much was sure, but was he really flirting with you or pushing his behavior for attention? it was hard to tell, his affections were dizzying enough.

• he chuckles at your blank, sweaty stare, your lips opening and closing like the dumbest fish in the tank. you'd been hit on before by interviewees but johnny took the cake without a doubt, from his veiny arms to his touchable hair, all the way to his tight, round—

• "earth to interviewer," johnny's teasing fingers wiggled in your face, grounding you back to the rickety wooden chair and blinding lights. "too much, or not enough?"

• "neither," you lazily protest as you come to. "just didn't... expect all of that." the interview proceeds as normal, with johnny's clicks and compliments littered to keep you flustered right when you regained your composure. it must've been a game to him, how long you're heated over a simple compliment. but it wasn't the compliment necessarily, it was the person giving them.

• it wraps up just as quickly as it started, and the production was being wrapped up the moment you delivered your outro. johnny's suspiciously large, dreamy grin was plastered onto his face for a strangely long amount of time.

• "it was nice working with you," you try to be cordial, it's hard when that smug look is looking back at you, like he's planning something. before you could stick around to figure it out, you spin on your heel with a beet-red blush on your cheeks.

• johnny visibly startles at your sudden turn, reaching forward to grab your wrist before you could fully face away. he flinches at himself and his abruptness, too eager to give away his desperation for just a little more time. he pulls away, scratching his neck.

• "sorry, doll," he gestures toward your wrist, a confused frown on your lips burying his ego for a moment. "just... hey, listen."

• "i'm listening," you cock a brow, stomach flipping at the out-of-script interaction.

• "me and you," he starts with a groaning sigh, struggling to find the words you stole from his throat from one look. "just us two. no cameras, no questions, no divorce — wait —" his slip-up makes you giggle. "no, no, really. lets go out sometime. gimme a shot, whatdya say?"

• "out?" your tone is teasing, a smirk of your own forming on your lips. "you flatter a lowly reporter."

• "you're not lowly," his voice drops down, more serious with a heartfelt smile. "you... make it hard to focus." he's silent for a moment before jumping into his playful attitude. "pick a different career, you're distracting me! but seriously, dinner? movie? not one of mine, i swear!"

• "only if you swear," you grin up at him, feeling far more human with johnny than you had in the interview.