#the sight of him gives me nourishment

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere elf x reader - Love Making

Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Go follow her and love her 🫶(pushes all of you to her blog)

I am out of ideas, y‘all. I am so happy you guys love my dumb smut lol 🩷 really thank you! Idk if I‘ll do any more, unless specifically asked. Also, if meru is ok with it ✨

Warning: 18+ content, drugging, general nsfw, oral !

—————

He smothered you with his length.

You got brief respite when he exited, gasping in short bursts.

Silas was caressing your face with both of his hands, holding you in place. His soft thumb pressed lightly into your cheek.

„Good, good~“, he cooed breathily.

In his mind, he was just giving you your nourishment. He didn‘t fully understand why the milking made him feel so lightheaded, why he longed to do it over and over again. But mothers wrote in the baby books that it is a precious bonding ritual, one they never experienced before.

And surely, this was a feeling he hadn‘t experienced before.

Silas let his darling suck his teats every day, but because he was an elf, his milk was stored elsewhere. Of course!

He had a collection of instructional manuals he had consulted (Romance Novels) and they referred to this act as „love making“. What a beautiful term! Silas felt giddy whenever he thought about it. That‘s definitely what the situation in the spring was, too - it all makes sense now!

Letting out a few breathy moans, he felt you lick his tip, as he thrust gently forward. He had prepared you again, giving you long and deep kisses to fully drench you with his aphrodisiac tongue. It was impossible to stop yourself. The way his kisses made you forget yourself, wanting him. You knew now how hard you could come with him just in you. It was annoying to admit, but you wanted more.

You looked up at him and a flush of purple filled his ethereal face.

„K-keep drinking, my precious…“, he huffed. He was holding himself, pointing it at your open lips.

You let your tongue fall out. You could see him gasp inaudibly from arousal at the sight of you. It was kind of fun to tease him. He looked beside himself, whenever he was close.

Your tongue brushed his tip again and he shivered. He was gently holding the back of your head, his fingers laced within your messed up hair. You could feel him push you forward softly.

Without warning you swallowed him as much as you could. Silas yelped at the feeling of you jerking your head forward vigorously. The sounds he made were so pitiful. You couldn’t get that much of him in your throat, but the mere velocity and sudden depth made the elf convulse and shake uncontrollably. He was trying to hold back, but it was futile.

He exploded with a guttural squeal. You felt his seed plummet into your throat and you quickly released your mouth to avoid choking. More overflowed onto your face, the most of it was dripping out of the sides of your mouth though. You swallowed harshly at the load.

Silas was immobile, his arms twitching by his massive side. He didn‘t speak for a while either, so you just sat there in silence with faint sounds of dripping.

Finally, Silas sat up with a flushed face. Dried tears stained his cheeks as his lip quivered.

„Darling… y-you were hungry, weren‘t you?“ he was trying to talk in his melodic voice, but you had taken his ability to be graceful.

You brushed some semen off your chin and stared at him.

„Oh, let me!“, he grabbed a beautiful doily he had been embroidering with donkeys and cows on it. He read babies like barn animals.

He wiped your face clean.

„There! All clean,“ he beamed down at you. Still feeling a bit sticky, you asked if you could go wash your face. He clapped his hands frantically, proud of you, for whatever reason.

Silas‘s semen didn‘t smell like normal cum. It had a strange, soothing scent to it. You stood over the basin and sniffed your hand a few times. What was in his damn bloodstream that made everything about him smell so fucking divine?

In the background, you heard Silas practice some lullaby, poorly.

Evidently, it was time for bed.

[monarchberrysblog]

𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭

18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.

Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a bottom, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)

Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)

Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.

To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌

It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.

Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.

You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?

"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"

The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it��not as you expected.

"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.

Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.

As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.

/

The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.

The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.

The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.

A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.

"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.

You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.

"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.

As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.

The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."

"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.

"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.

"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.

He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."

Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.

His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.

His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"

Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.

"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.

"I want it…"

"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.

"I want your cock… please."

After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.

Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"

"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"

You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.

"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."

It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"

He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.

"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.

/

The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.

Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"

The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."

It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.

His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.

“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”

“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”

The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.

The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”

With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.

“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…

“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.

“Pizza it is, then.”

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Hunger

~

Okay hear me out!

We have all talked about how Jason gets pit rage because of the Lazarus waters being gross ecto, or how his obssession is the Joker and needing to kill him and a bunch of other things,

Yes?

With me so far?

Okay!

Let me give that a twist,

That Pit Rage Jason feels is hunger, specifically a ghosts hunger.

Jason came back from the dead not fully, he's a starving ghost with a malnourished proto-core, until he properly eats it will stay weak and hungry.

How does the Joker fit in all this?

Easy, With the lack of good ecto for Jason to feed and stabilize from the next best option is his murderer.

Consuming that who killed you is very nourishing for a new ghost.

So Jason getting angry with the bats and others when they tell him not to kill the Joker or actively prevent him from even getting near him is like putting all his favourite foods right in front of him and then taking it away from him,

Each time getting worse for Jason, only getting hungrier and hungrier each time it happens.

How would you feel if you were starving and people kept offering you food and then pulling it away before you could eat it?

Confused?

Desperate?

Anger?

It doesn't count as cannibalism if you're not the same

~

Jason biting the bars of his holding cell like a dog

Dick: "Is it just me or where his teeth always that sharp?"

~

Oracle: "I lost sight of the Joker!"

Jason hunched over with glowing green eyes while drooling: "No worries he's nearby I can smell him."

Other Bats listening on the comms: " ...What the hell do you mean smell ! Are you drooling ?!"

~

Bats: "Wow Jason sure is getting creative trying to get the Joker!"

Jason:

~

Check tags for some funny extras

~

Just an Idea

[vrystalius]

I was watching Sanemi's training episode and thought about this ask."Sanemi was training the hunters,his wife called him and all the hunters to have lunch with the delicious food she made,but when the hunters saw Sanemi's wife they were enchanted by her beauty and kindness,how would Sanemi react to seeing the hunters enchanted by his wife's beauty?" (Sorry for my bad english)

❕Sanemi’s reaction to his trainees being enchanted by you

You were kind enough to prepare meals for Sanemi’s students after a long and gruelling training session. They absolutely adore you! How will your husband react?

Note: Thank you so much for requesting. Your english is very good, don’t worry! I have another request in my inbox I’m planning to write and publish today. Sorry for not being very active today.

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

— Sanemi has been letting his assigned slayers suffer. He beat their ass with the wooden training katana until it broke, or until the slayer passed out. If the wooden katana broke before the trainee did, Sanemi made sure to continue with his fists. Is this even proper training anymore? Striking or even coming close to this maniac seemed impossible!!

— You knew that your husband is not holding back with his assigned slayers, and so you prepared beforehand: You had a fully stocked pantry and medical closet. You made sure to grab extra medicine and bandages from the butterfly mansion even before the first slayers arrived, wanted to make sure everyone is surviving Sanemi’s training.

— While Sanemi was taking on his trainees, you were cooking some veggie miso soup with a side of steamed dumplings. While that was brewing, you were making a small batch of ohagi just for Sanemi. It’s also very tiring for him, and you’re sure he’d want something sweet to eat during his break.

— Shortly after pouring the soup into the bowls and arranging the dumplings on side dishes, the first starved and badly bruised slayers arrived. Well, they more likely crawled towards the scent of food.

— While they wolfed down their bowls of veggie miso soup, you carefully tended to their wounds while they were distracted. You dabbed on an ointment and wrapped some bandages around their torso’s, arms and legs, speaking encouraging words to them. After the slayers ate and managed to rest up for a while, they actually realised from who they got all this caring attention from.

“Mrs.Sh-Shinazugawa! You’re an angel! Our saviour!”

“Can I have another bowl of soup? Pleeeaase?”

“My shoulder hurts, can you massage me a little? Pretty please, Mrs.Shinazugawa!!”

— But one question lingered on their minds collectively: How the hell did Sanemi find such an angel of a woman like you?! And how the hell did you agree to marry him? Were you forced? Paid? Beaten into submission?!

— Regardless, more and more of Sanemi’s poor trainees showed up crawling, sobbing or being carried/dragged across the dirt by their mates. They desperately needed nourishment and tending to their wounds, or there will be fatalities. You didn’t know if you were supposed to laugh or cry at the sight.

— Sanemi noticed how more and more of his slayers disappeared. Are they seriously hiding from him? Idiots. He started stomping through the training ground, following the smell of green tea and miso soup. That’s where he found you and almost all of his slayers.

— You tended to almost every single slayer personally, patching them up and giving them encouraging words. Some of his trainees even started following you around, trying to help you out and leave a good impression. Maybe you’ll give them extra portions of food or kind praises? Your voice sounded like a healing melody in comparison to Sanemi’s constant yelling and insults.

— But the peaceful atmosphere of you giving out some leftover miso soup and holding some light conversation with the trainees here and there was interrupted by Sanemi’s yelling.

“You’re all useless!! Ya think hiding behind my wife is allowing you to skip training, hah?! Back to the training grounds, shitheads!!”

— Yes, Sanemi is incredibly angry about his slayers hiding from him, especially crawling to you for safety and respite. But he’s more angry about the fact how they were all trying to get your attention and affections. Sanemi doesn’t mind when you interact with other people, or even men. He gets slightly jealous when men get too comfortable and start flirting with you,but Sanemi trusts you. He will interfere if things get too much though, just like now.

— Sanemi is feeling very jealous right now. He saw how you tended to the slayers. Your fingers were wrapping bandages around their wounds and bruises, and you were being so incredibly gentle and soft. You were blushing at their compliments and thanked them gracefully when they help you out.

— Your gentle touches should only be reserved for *him when you patch him up after a long night. Your hands should only touch *his skin with such carefulness and gentleness, and only Sanemi is supposed to make you blush with his* praises. Not these… good-for-nothing slayers.

— You are not oblivious, and you realised why Sanemi was really shooing them away. That’s exactly why you prepared the small batch of ohagi, just to show him that in the end, he’s the only one that received special treatment and affection from you. Although Sanemi only stops grumbling and complaining to you about his assigned trainees’ behaviour once you give him at least one kiss and some reassurance. But he still gave out severe punishments afterwards.

“Their annoying asses are getting on my damn nerves. I’m gonna have a fucking headache in the evening… soo… cuddles? Later?”

💠

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed.

Anways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: Sleeping beauty

Word count: 4094

Summary: In this chapter, Y/N wakes up after three and a half days of sleep, prompting concern from the pack, especially Chan and Changbin's mom. While the boys handle rehearsals, she cares for Y/N, ensuring she feels safe and nourished. When Chan decides to stay with Y/N, they discover her scent has returned, signaling her recovery. Y/N feels guilty about her omega duties, but the boys reassure her that her well-being comes first, leaving her eager to connect with her new family.

Y/N slept for an impressive three and a half days, a fact that didn't surprise anyone, especially Chan. Omegas usually 'hybernate' whenever they did something that tired their bodies. It was normal for them to go to sleep for days.

Day One:

On the first morning of her extended nap, the boys rose early at 6 AM, gathering their things for rehearsals. Before they left, they waited and made sure Changbin's mom had arrived safely before they could leave for work.

"Hey, Ma!" Changbin greeted his mother with a respectful bow before pulling her into a warm embrace.

"Hello, baby! How are you? How are the boys?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she stepped into the house.

"We're all doing well, thanks to you for helping us out," Changbin replied, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek as he led her into the living room where the rest of the boys were lounging.

"You don't have to thank me, dear. I'm just so excited to meet her!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm filling the room.

"Mama Bin!" Lee Know jumped up from the couch, his smile brightening at the sight of her. "Thank you so much for doing this!"

"Oh, Lee Know! You all really don't have to thank me!" She beamed, wrapping him in a quick hug. She went around the room greeting each member that was present before she realised one was missing, "How have you all been? Where's Chan?"

Just then, Chan emerged from upstairs, his hair tousled and a sleep-deprived smile on his face.

"Did you give her her medicine?" I.N asked, noticing Chan's entrance with a raised brow.

"Yes, my love—oh! Hey, Mama Bin!" Chan replied, visibly relaxing as he spotted her.

"Christopher!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with joy.

"How's my favorite son-in-law doing?" she teased, causing the rest of the pack to shout a collective "Hey!" in playful protest.

Chan laughed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Just trying to survive, honestly," he admitted, and they all chuckled.

"How are you? Did you get here safely?" Chan asked, grabbing his jacket off the couch.

"Yes, I did, love! Where's the new addition to the pack? Let me see her," Changbin's mom said, placing her bag on the counter and looking around expectantly.

"She's asleep right now. She might be out for the next couple of days, so she won't be any trouble, honestly," Changbin explained, while Han set out breakfast for her on the table.

"Thank you, my dear," she said, her attention briefly shifting to Han before returning to Changbin. "Why is she going to be asleep for so long?" A frown crossed her face as she picked up a mug.

"She was a ring omega," Changbin admitted, a nervous chuckle escaping him.

"Oh dear!" she gasped, placing the mug down with concern. "Is she okay? Is she in a subdrop? Oh, the poor little thing!" Her frown deepened, making Chan feel more confident about leaving Y/N with Changbin's mom, given how delicate and caring she already was.

"She's not fully in a subdrop; she's just really quiet and doesn't have a scent at the moment. She's also quite small for her size," Changbin huffed, glancing around for support from the group.

"Yeah, but the point is," Lee Know interjected, "we need you to just watch her and feed her lunch and dinner if we're not home early today. She might be fussy at first, but she's a really good girl. She'll listen to you."

"I already told her you're coming, and I gave her her medicine. She took her pills, but for lunch, just give her her pills again, and I'll apply her cream at night. She doesn't really like people touching her," Chan added, looking serious.

"Alright, alright. I've got this! You guys don't worry about me. I've been a mom for years; I can handle this without a hitch. Just get to work before you're late!" Changbin's mom said, playfully shooing them off.

"Please call us if she needs any of us," Felix said softly, guilt weighing heavily on him. He wanted so badly to crawl into bed with Y/N and nestle beside her, but he knew they couldn't do that.

"Don't worry, Felix, I will. I promise," she assured him, her heart warmed by his concern as the boys headed out.

Once they left, she decided to check on Y/N, wanting to make sure she was doing alright. Climbing the stairs, she moved quietly, the soft carpet muffling her footsteps. As she approached Felix's room, she hesitated for a moment, her heart fluttering with excitement and maternal instinct. Gently pushing the door open, she peered inside.

There, in the center of Felix's cozy nest, Y/N lay peacefully asleep, her hair splayed like a halo around her. She was completely enveloped in the soft blankets, looking utterly serene. The sight made Changbin's mom smile. "You are so gorgeous," she whispered, admiration lacing her voice.

Stepping closer, she adjusted the pillow beneath Y/N's head, ensuring it was positioned perfectly so that she wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck. Then, she dimmed the lights, casting a warm, inviting glow that enveloped the room. It was a small gesture, but she hoped it would make Y/N's rest even more comfortable.

Satisfied, she quietly closed the door and made her way downstairs, her mind already shifting to the next task at hand: cooking. As an alpha, she had always been more comfortable with physical tasks than culinary ones, often struggling in the kitchen compared to the innate skills many omegas possessed. Nevertheless, she approached the kitchen with determination.

Gathering ingredients, she decided to make a comforting pasta dish, knowing it would be filling and warm. As she chopped vegetables and stirred the sauce, the familiar rhythm of cooking began to calm her. The rich aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air, creating an inviting atmosphere.

As the pasta boiled, she took a moment to pause, leaning against the counter. A sense of nostalgia washed over her as she remembered times when she had cooked for Changbin and his lovers, their laughter echoing around the house. She chuckled softly, recalling a particularly chaotic dinner where Felix had accidentally spilled sauce all over himself, earning him playful teasing from the others.

With the pasta nearly ready, she turned her attention to the big-screen TV in the living room. Flipping through channels, she settled on a light-hearted cooking show, letting it play in the background. The host's cheerful banter and culinary tips provided a soothing soundtrack as she worked, and she found herself laughing at their antics. It reminded her of the joy of cooking—not just the food, but the memories made around the table.

Once the meal was ready, she plated the pasta, garnishing it with fresh basil and a sprinkle of parmesan. The vibrant colors and inviting scents brought a smile to her face. Just as she was finishing up, she heard a soft sound from upstairs—Y/N stirring in her sleep.

"Maybe I should prepare something for her too," she thought. After a moment's hesitation, she decided to whip up a small serving of pasta for Y/N, wanting to ensure she felt cared for and welcomed.

With Y/N's plate set aside, she finally allowed herself to sit down at the table, enjoying the warm food and the satisfaction of having created something special. As she ate, her thoughts drifted to Y/N—wondering about her past and what brought her to Felix and their pack. She hoped Y/N would feel safe and loved here, just as Changbin had always made her feel.

After finishing her meal, she decided to tidy up the kitchen. As she washed the dishes, she caught sight of the clock and realized time was slipping away. "I should check on Y/N again," she said to herself, drying her hands and moving back upstairs.

Entering Felix's room once more, she found Y/N had shifted, her face now slightly illuminated by the soft light. She looked so peaceful, and a wave of affection washed over Changbin's mom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she took a moment to simply watch her, feeling the warmth of her new role in this little family.

She leaned down to brush a stray hair from Y/N's forehead, feeling a protective instinct swell within her. "You're part of our family now."

With a final glance, she quietly left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

When 3:00 PM arrived, Changbin's mom made her way upstairs, her heart full of care for the young omega resting  She gently opened the door and approached the bed, where Y/N lay completely passed out, her chest rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm.

"Y/N?" she called softly, shaking her gently but carefully, aware of the girl's sensitivity to touch. "Y/N, you have to wake up so you can eat a bit and take your pills." She kept her tone soothing, not wanting to startle her.

After a moment of silence, she called out again, a little louder this time. "Y/N?" This time, the sound stirred Y/N from her deep slumber, a soft groan escaping her lips.

"Hmm?" Y/N mumbled, her eyes fluttering open. Panic flickered across her face when she saw a stranger hovering nearby. Still heavy with sleep, she didn't have the energy to react.

"Hey, I'm Changbin's mom," she said with a warm smile, hoping to put Y/N at ease. "You need to eat something before you can go back to sleep."

"I don't wanna; I wanna sleep," Y/N groaned, her frustration evident as she rubbed her eyes. Her body ached, and her eyelids felt like lead weights, the side effects of both the medication and her omega powers beginning to settle in.

"I know you don't want to, pup, but you need food. Otherwise, your body won't function properly," Changbin's mom explained gently, trying to convey the importance of nourishment.

"Where's Channie?" Y/N asked, her irritation bubbling under the surface, desperate to return to her dreams.

"They all went to work, but they'll be back soon. Here, eat this for now." With that, she offered Y/N a small bowl of pasta, watching closely as Y/N hesitantly took a bite. She could tell the girl was hungry, despite her complaints. Y/N occasionally drifted off mid-bite, only to wake up moments later, groggy yet determined to finish.

"You must be so exhausted, pup," she cooed, her heart swelling with affection as Y/N swallowed her pills and leaned back against the pillows, a soft hum escaping her lips.

"I'll be back around dinner, okay?" Changbin's mom said, watching as Y/N's eyes fluttered shut once more, the exhaustion pulling her under like a gentle tide. Satisfied that she had taken care of her, Changbin's mom quietly closed the door behind her and made her way downstairs.

In the kitchen, she set about washing the dishes, the rhythmic sound of water splashing against porcelain a calming backdrop. After finishing, she settled down in the living room, turning on the TV to a light-hearted show. The laughter and chatter from the screen filled the space, as she waited for dinner time.

As the hours passed, she found herself occasionally glancing upstairs, wondering how Y/N was doing. The young omega was a delicate flower, and Changbin's mom felt a protective urge swell within her. She wanted to make sure Y/N felt safe and loved.

When dinner time rolled around, she prepared a warm, hearty meal, her thoughts focused on Y/N's needs. After everything was set, she returned to the room, softly knocking before entering. Y/N stirred, her eyes slowly opening as if awakening from a long dream.

"Hey there, sleepyhead. It's time for dinner," Changbin's mom said gently, placing the food on the bedside table.

Y/N groaned softly, but the enticing aroma of the meal seemed to pull her from her drowsiness. "Do I have to?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, you do, Just a little more, and then you can sleep again," Changbin's mom encouraged, knowing how important it was for Y/N to stay nourished.

As Y/N sat up slowly, she took a few bites, the food seemingly recharging her. Each spoonful was met with a small smile from Changbin's mom, who felt a sense of joy at seeing Y/N eat.

After finishing her meal and taking her evening pills, Y/N leaned back against the pillows, looking more comfortable yet still weary. "Are the boys coming?" she said softly, her eyes pleading.

"Of course. They'll be back soon, and they'll be so happy to see you," Changbin's mom promised, tucking the blankets around Y/N snugly. With a final reassuring smile, she left the room, closing the door gently.

As she returned to her own evening watching TV in the leaving room and slowly drifting off to sleep.

🌱🍄🌻🥞

"We're home!" a cheerful voice rang out from the front door, breaking the quiet of the early morning. Changbin's mom groaned as she woke, glancing at the clock that read 3:45 AM.

"Ugh, why do you guys always come home so late?" she muttered to herself, stretching her limbs before sitting up on the couch.

"Mum? Where are you?" Changbin called, his voice echoing through the house as he removed his shoes. The other boys followed suit, dropping their bags on counters and hooks, their energy unmistakably low.

"In here!" she called back, still shaking off the remnants of sleep as she tried to gather her thoughts.

"Hey, how was practice, you guys?" she asked, her voice warm and welcoming as they started to separate. Some headed for the fridge to grab leftover pasta, while others flopped onto the couch or hung up their coats, each greeting her with affectionate hugs.

"It was so tiring, like usual, but we managed to get everything done," Hyunjin groaned, yawning widely. "I'll see you in a few hours, Mama Bin." He kissed her forehead and made his way up the stairs, clearly ready to collapse into bed.

"Can I sleep with you tonight, Jinnie?" Felix called from the kitchen, his voice laced with a hint of exhaustion.

"Yeah, babygirl, just come in whenever you're ready," Hyunjin replied, quickly disappearing down the hallway.

"How was it? Did she behave?" Chan asked, settling onto the couch and taking a long sip from a water bottle.

"She was good. She slept most of the time but only woke up to eat," Changbin's mom explained. "She kept asking for you all. I made her the pasta like the meal plan said. I hope it's good."

"This is some good-ass pasta!" Seungmin exclaimed, his cheeks smeared with sauce as he devoured a bowl. "I'm not complaining!"

"I'm glad you like it. You lot should head to bed; I'm going to crash too," she said, grabbing a cozy blanket from the couch. With a warm wave, she made her way to the guest room.

"I'll go check on Y/N. I'll sleep with her tonight," Chan announced after a moment of contemplation, almost considering the couch due to how tired he was.

"Hyung, no!" Seungmin growled, his irritation flaring up. "You always sleep with me!" He pouted, his frustration evident as he wiped sauce from his face.

"Yeah, babe, but you can sleep with Changbin or Lee Know tonight. I don't want to leave her alone," Chan replied, trying to keep his tone calm despite the rising tension.

Seungmin's growl deepened, and Chan winced as he felt the hot wave of anger radiating from him through their bond. "Stop being petty," he hissed, fatigue creeping into his voice. "It's just one night."

Chan was honestly running on autopilot, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. "It's 3 AM; I'm going to bed," he grumbled, frustration bubbling to the surface. With that, he stormed off, leaving the remaining boys in the living room, still debating their own plans for the night.

As Chan climbed the stairs, he couldn't shake the lingering annoyance in the air. He understood Seungmin's feelings but also felt a protective urge toward Y/N that he couldn't ignore. Pushing the door open to Felix's room, he peeked inside to find Y/N peacefully sleeping in her nest.

She looked serene, and for a moment, all his frustrations melted away. "Just one night," he whispered to himself, closing the door softly as he slipped under the covers beside her, ready to ensure she felt safe and cared for.

🌱🍄🌻🥞

Day two:

It wasn't just one night. Chan had ended up crashing with Y/N on the second day of her sleeping coma, and of course, Seungmin wasn't happy about it again. But honestly, Chan was tired of his drama.

The day had already been stressful; they were running on just about three hours of sleep, and on top of that, they had twelve grueling hours of dance practice ahead. Every muscle in Chan's body ached, and his head was pounding like a drum. Seungmin had been giving him the cold shoulder all day, still sulking over the previous night's events. Chan was just done with the nonsense.

As he walked down the hallway toward Felix's room, he could feel the weight of Seungmin's frustration hanging in the air like a thick fog. "What's his problem?" Chan muttered under his breath, shaking his head in annoyance.

When he pushed open the door, the sight of Y/N sound asleep in her nest brought a wave of calm over him. She looked so peaceful, her soft breaths matching the gentle rise and fall of the blankets. Chan's heart swelled, reminding him of why he had wanted to sleep beside her in the first place. Here, everything felt right. The stress of the day began to dissolve as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer.

"Just a little longer," he whispered, resting his head against hers. The warmth of her body soothed his frayed nerves, making the chaos of practice and the tension with Seungmin feel like distant memories.

But then, a knock on the door broke his moment of peace. Seungmin entered, his expression a mix of anger and hurt. "What are you doing, Chan?" he snapped, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "This again?"

Chan sighed, frustration creeping back in. "I’m just keeping her company, Seungmin. She needs it."

"You always say that! It’s like you don’t care how it makes me feel!" Seungmin shot back, his voice rising. "I’m starting to think you only want to sleep next to her to rub it in my face."

"That’s not true! I care about her just as much as i care for you!" Chan countered, the exhaustion in his voice palpable. "You need to stop being so dramatic about this."

Seungmin's expression darkened. "Dramatic? You think I’m being dramatic? Maybe you just don’t want to admit that you’re being selfish."

Chan clenched his jaw, feeling the heat of the argument rise. "Selfish? Really? I’m trying to be there for someone who’s hurting, and you’re making it all about you!"

"Maybe you should think about how I feel for once!" Seungmin shot back, frustration etched on his face. "I’m tired of feeling like I’m competing for your attention."

With that, Chan turned away, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not a competition, Seungmin. You can sleep with someone else tonight. I’m not leaving her alone."

Seungmin scoffed, his arms dropping to his sides in defeat. "Fine. Do what you want. Just don’t expect me to be okay with it."

With that, Seungmin stormed out, leaving Chan feeling drained. He couldn’t shake the lingering annoyance in the air. He understood Seungmin's feelings but felt a protective urge toward Y/N that he couldn’t ignore.

"Just one night," he whispered to himself, closing the door softly as he settled under the covers beside her.

He couldn’t help but hope she would wake up by morning, that they could share the moment of relief together. In this space, wrapped in her presence, Chan felt grounded and sane, as if all his worries could fade away, even if just for a few hours.

🌱🍄🌻🥞

Day three:

Chan jolted awake to the sound of his alpha howling in distress, his heart racing. "What the heck?" he murmured, groaning as he rubbed his eyes and held his head in his hands.

The voice echoed in his mind, Omega! Sweet omega. Please...

With a sigh, Chan looked over at Y/N, who was peacefully asleep beside him. "What time is it?" he huffed, reaching for his phone. That's when he caught a whiff of something heavenly—her scent. His breath hitched, and he couldn't help but smile. What the heck?

Curious, he leaned a little closer, inhaling deeply and enjoying the comforting aroma. "Her scent is back?" he wondered aloud, furrowing his brows. He quickly texted Minho and Changbin, asking them to come to the room.

Just as he was savoring the moment, Changbin burst through the door, followed closely by Leeknow, who bumped into him.

"Dude! Ow!" Leeknow groaned, rubbing his nose. But as soon as he caught a whiff of Y/N's scent, he froze. "Oh..."

Changbin's eyes widened. "Her scent is back?"

"Yeah! I woke up because my alpha was going wild, and then I realized it was her!" Chan grinned, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief.

"Jesus, she smells amazing! I might just melt!" Changbin exclaimed, earning a hearty laugh from Chan.

"No way she smells that good!" Leeknow said, inching closer to the bed, a playful grin on his face.

Just then, Y/N stirred, blinking awake to see Leeknow leaning in with wide eyes. "What the...?" she groaned, and before he could react, he stumbled back, almost falling off the bed.

“Oh no, Y/N! I’m so sorry! I promise I’m not being weird!” Leeknow exclaimed, his cheeks flushing a bright pink as he regained his balance, wide eyes darting to Chan and then back to her.

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered state. “You’re adorable, you know that?” she teased, stretching her arms overhead and letting out a loud yawn that echoed in the cozy room.

“Welcome back,” Chan said playfully, pulling her body close to his, the warmth of his presence wrapping around her like a soft blanket.

“Hey, Channie,” she mumbled, burying her face in his neck, inhaling his comforting scent. “How long was I out for?” She felt a mix of curiosity and embarrassment.

“About three days,” he replied softly, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, his touch igniting a spark of affection.

“Three days?” she gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Oh no! I’m so behind on my omega duties, aren’t I?” Her brow furrowed, anxiety creeping in despite the relief that coursed through her. She felt great—no aches, no exhaustion—but guilt nagged at her.

“Cupcake?” Changbin’s voice chimed in as he climbed onto the bed, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You don’t have any ‘duties’. Plus, you don’t need to apologize. You look more healthier. You smell so sweet, happy and relaxed”

“i smell so...Sweet?” She furrowed her brows, searching her body before gasping. “My scent is back?” Excitement bubbled up within her as she sat up, touching her glands and releasing a wave of pheromones that filled the room with a delicate, inviting fragrance.

“Okay, okay! I know you’re excited, babe, but don’t choke us with it!” Leeknow coughed dramatically, waving a hand in front of his face as if to fan away the air.

Y/N giggled, lightly tapping his back. “I’m sorry! I just haven’t smelled like me in ages!”

“And you smell absolutely amazing,” Chan added, fingers playing gently with her hair, his touch soothing her frayed nerves.

“Thank you, Oppa,” she smiled, her heart swelling with warmth. Her gaze drifted around the room, taking in the piles of bags and clothes. “What have you guys been up to?”

“Practicing and practicing and practicing,” Changbin growled, rubbing his shoulder with a playful wince. “You know, the usual.”

“It’s been so boring without you,” Leeknow chimed in, crossing his arms dramatically. “At least we don’t have to go in until 3 PM today.” He laid back down on the bed and started to type on his phone before Chan started to speak.

“Speaking of which, Y/N,” Chan said softly, a hint of authority in his tone, “I need you to start unpacking your room and all these bags. This mess is driving me crazy.”

“Okay oppa,  Can you show me where my room is?” she asked, her voice brightening. “And do we have anything planned for the day?” She felt Chan begin to massage her shoulders, easing the last remnants of tension.

“Yeah, I’ll let Felix and Han help you out. And you’re coming with us to the studio later; Mama Bin is leaving today,” he replied, a soft smile on his lips.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she turned to Changbin. “I need to meet her and thank her for taking care of me. She was so nice.”

“She’s downstairs, cupcake. Go ahead whenever you’re ready,” Changbin encouraged, his grin infectious.

“Okay, I will,” she said, already feeling the anticipation bubbling within her as she hopped off the bed, eager to start her day.

🌱🍄🌻🥞

Dont forget to reblog and follow! <3

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[pickingupmymercedes]

She's here and she's not only ours - Lewis Hamilton

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)

pairing: Dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Navigating the journey from being a couple to becoming a family is often likened to entering a whole new world—one filled with unpredictable challenges and profound joys. The radiant 7-month-old girl had effortlessly woven herself into the fabric of your lives, captivating not only you and Lewis but everyone who crossed her path. Yet, adjusting to new routines, shifting priorities, managing emotional and physical changes, and, most crucially, cultivating a deep bond with your child were aspects of parenthood that no book, class, or well-meaning advice had adequately prepared you for.

And so, the real test of parenthood often lay in learning to prioritize.

“Oh my God, she’s growing up so quickly!” Susie exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she entered the living area of your apartment, making a beeline for the giggling toddler seated in her bumbo seat on the kitchen island.

“Please, don’t remind me. Time is flying by too fast already,” you replied, your smile widening as you watched your baby recognize Susie and reach out to be scooped up.

“I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced… I just... I had to know why,” Susie said, her expression curious and concerned.

You had expected people to comment and be surprised, but you hadn’t anticipated the attention coming so soon, even before you and Lewis had a chance to share your news.

“So, I take it everyone at Mercedes already knows?”

“More like everyone on the paddock, probably,” Susie confirmed.

“Do you remember her first few days? When she struggled to gain weight and every day felt like a battle?”

The first inkling that something was amiss came mere hours after you had returned home with your newborn daughter. Her incessant cries and insatiable hunger, even after an hour of breastfeeding, had raised red flags.

You had been warned that the initial days would be challenging—that you were now solely responsible for nourishing a tiny human. So, you soldiered on, suppressing your growing panic and tears, dreading the 40-minute feeding intervals where you’d bite your tongue and cheeks to keep from crying.

You tried every trick in the book—increasing your water intake, warm and cold compresses, dietary changes, pumping between feeds, consulting lactation specialists, and even consuming magic lactation cookies. Yet, your milk supply remained stubbornly low.

The sense of failure weighed heavily on you; your primary role was to nurture your baby, something you had done successfully during pregnancy. Instead of relishing the joys of new motherhood, you felt like a failure, a lesser mother to your daughter and a villain to your husband's fairytale of having kids.

Lewis was acutely aware of your distress and tried to be supportive. Despite knowing, as doctors and specialists had advised, that you needed to supplement with formula for both your daughter’s and your own well-being, he refrained from pressuring you. Every night he would feel as though you were punching him in the face when you went out of his sight to cry, or how his chest would tighten when he carried your screaming daughter in his arms, knowing she needed more, from him and from you. Still, he didn’t have in him to lecture you, yet again, on how that little girl needed more, not when you were giving your life and sanity away for her.

It wasn’t until the day before her second week checkup that you broke down. You knew the scale wasn’t going to give her much more grams than she had the past week, way less than she deserved and the added burden that he would be going for his first race of the season in a couple days had you reaching your breaking point.

Seeing Lewis on the sofa, looking worried and worn-out, you collapsed in front of him, letting your tears flow freely. He held you, comforting you with gentle whispers, and you both agreed that transitioning to formula was for the best. Despite the months of hearing about the benefits of breastfeeding, you had come to understand that sometimes the most challenging part of parenthood was knowing when to stand your ground and make the best choice for your family.

“We don’t want his job to feel like a burden every weekend,” you said.

“So, the Hamiltons will be a staple in the paddocks?” Susie asked, her approving smile revealing her pride.

“Life doesn’t always go as planned, does it?” You shrugged

“The media is going to love that smile,” Susie cooed, her attention directed at the toothy grin of your daughter.

“Yeah… She won’t be only ours, but Lewis needs her as much as she needs him. I guess it’s a small price to pay,” you replied, smiling at your yawning daughter in Susie’s lap, her little hands rubbing her eyes—a clear sign that her naptime was due.

“Please, let me. She still loves Disney songs, right?” Susie absentmindedly asked, already heading towards your daughter’s room, laying the toddler on her cheast and ready to lull her to sleep with a familiar melody. As you watched, you couldn’t help but marvel at how your daughter had already captured so many hearts at such a young age.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you'd like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[miguelswifey04]

miguel has that life altering kind of sex

LMAO YEAH…im ngl idk if this was a request or a statement but regardless…i did a thing 💆🏽‍♀️

a deep moan rumbled from his throat as he enjoyed the intimate connection between you, the mixture of pleasure and nourishment filling his senses. he suckled eagerly, his touch and suckling becoming more intense, his desire to please you growing with every passing second.

"mmmm, mi amor," he murmured with urgency, his voice muffled against your breast. "you taste so delicious. i can't get enough of you." miguel continued to give attention to both of your breasts massaging them and teasing their hardened peaks. he reveled in the way your body reacted to his touch.

he then positioned himself above you, as he caged your head with his arms that were on either side of your head as he pressed a kiss on your forehead and your face. he plunged inside you feeling how tight and wet you were for him already. he loved that feeling so much of always being inside your spongy walls that enveloped his thick cock so perfectly. “this pussy was made for me.” he cooed into you ear. he began to thrust into you as he wrapped his arms under you. he sped up his moments and slowed down to tease your pussy because he loved when you clenched around him.

you gripped onto his shoulders as you felt him enter me, stretching youout “oh my god…you’re so big….” you cried out in moans as you scratched his back from the feeling of him stretching your hole. “good, i’m glad. you always know how to take my cock so well mi vida.”

the scratch of your nails against his skin sent tingles of pleasure down his spine, fueling his desire to go deeper and bring you to heights of ecstasy. with each thrust, he adjusted the angle and pace, seeking to find the perfect blend of pleasure for both of you.

he gazed into your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of love and desire. "you feel incredible, mi amor. so tight and wet...you're driving me wild," he confessed, his voice filled with raw passion. "i want to make you lose control, to hear you scream my name in pleasure."

and you did, you screamed his name as he angled your hips in a way he could go even deeper. he was hitting you g-spot and as well as you a-spot (cervix). he knew how to please you properly and where to angle his cock to hit all the right spots just for you. he knows your body so well like the back of his hand.

he could feel the buildup of pleasure within both of you, the tension coiling tighter with every movement. with every thrust, he aimed to push you closer to the edge, desperate to witness your release and share in the ecstasy with you.

“mmmm, let go, mi amor," he urged, his voice filled with both encouragement and need. "let me take you to the peak of pleasure." his breath hitched as he felt his climax approaching, the pleasure building to a crescendo. "i’m close, mi amor," he gasped, his voice strained with need. "will you cum with me?" you loved whenever he asked you this…this made you push over the edge of ecstasy.

“i’m close, oh my god i’m-“ you moaned out as and your body trembled as you reached your orgasm. you squirted all over his cock and thighs. miguel’s breath caught in his throat as he witnessed your release, feeling the warm rush of your essence cascading over his cock and thighs. the sight alone sent him hurtling towards his own climax, his body trembling with pleasure.

with a final surge of intensity, he continued his thrusts, chasing his own release as he buried himself deep inside you. the pleasure washed over him like a tidal wave, consuming his senses completely.

a guttural moan escaped his lips as he found his release, his body convulsing with the force of his orgasm. his movements became erratic and desperate as he emptied himself inside you, his seed mingling with your own essence.

breathing heavily, he held you close, reveling in the aftermath of ecstasy. he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his voice filled with a mixture of satisfaction and adoration. "you’re incredible, mi amor. absolutely incredible."

as the waves of pleasure subsided, he gently lowered you back onto the bed, his touch tender and loving. he nestled beside you, pulling you close in a warm embrace, basking in the afterglow of the passionate connection you had shared.

“thank you miguel, you always know how to make me feel so good.” you were always thankful for that. he always knew how to pleasure you right and you were his utmost priority when it came to intimacy. you laid on his bare chest as you traced circles on his skin and the musculature of his abs.

“i’m always down for round two.” miguel teased you. he loved seeing your reaction after you were fucked senseless and he still had enough stamina for a couple rounds more as always. you usually go for a couple more rounds but not today. you were totally spent but satisfied.

…

a/n: god i love writing smut <3

[frudoo]

Full Hands Pt. 4

Warnings: Mentions of wanting to have children (i.e. get pregnant, give birth, nurse, etc.)

Full Hands Masterlist

You knew the job was temporary when you took it. You were simply filling in as a nanny for the kids until their family was stable enough for the mother to stay home. You just didn’t expect it to be so soon. The man got a notable promotion at his place of work, and the raise that came with his new position meant that his wife would no longer need to sustain a job. You were happy for them, truly—you could see how she clung to her children in the mornings, the sadness in her smile as she bid you and the kiddos goodbye—but you had grown to love these kids like your own.

Yesterday was your last day, a bittersweet thing. The little miss helped you cook a special breakfast of blueberry pancakes, insisting on mixing the batter. To your surprise, she didn’t spill a drop and even helped hold the bowl for you as you dropped some batter into the pan. The now nine-month-old boy, instead of fussing at you to help him eat, decided to be Mr. Independent and grab the bites of torn-up pancake all on his own. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt, watching these children grow up so quickly only to withdraw from their everyday lives.

Of course, you’d still see them from time to time, either to babysit or in passing. Their parents had made it clear that you were still their friend and welcome in their home anytime. As for now, you were jobless, posting your information on corkboards all over town and praying that a kind family would give you a call. Even John and your closest friends were keeping an eye out when they could, sending you links to local mom groups on Facebook that you could join and advertise in. So far, nobody was in need of a full-time care provider, so you’ve been scheduled to babysit for multiple families for a night or two.

It’s like the universe is taunting you. Everywhere you go, you see mamas bouncing their happy babies on their hips, daddies carrying their toddlers on their shoulders, parents swinging their children by the arms as they walk. Today, you find yourself at the park where you and the kiddos would frequent, apparently set on torturing yourself. It’s a Thursday so most school age children are in class, leaving only stay-at-home moms and their young kids to roam the colorful chalk-covered sidewalks. There’s so much laughter and giddiness and joy, and-

God, you need a baby. It’s abundantly clear in the way tears spill down your puffy cheeks as you watch a little girl, no older than two years at most, give her pregnant mommy an open-mouthed kiss on the belly. A job isn’t enough anymore, not ‘holding you over’ the way you kept telling yourself it was. You crave the bond that comes with motherhood, the unmistakable features of your stature on the face of a chunky baby that you get to call your own. You want to nourish a life with your body, grow and birth and nurse. The desire practically screams for you the way you cry for it.

With a drawn-out sigh, you stand from the white wooden bench and brush the tears from your eyes, wiping the salty residue on your white skirt. It’s about an hour before you’re supposed to go on a date with John, so you decide to go back to your place and clean yourself up a bit. You can feel the dried mascara on your cheeks and you can’t imagine that you look presentable enough to even be in public, let alone on a date with your ridiculously handsome boyfriend. You trudge down the sidewalks and zone out until your hands make the familiar motions of turning your key into the lock of your flat.

You shriek at the sight of a looming figure before you, standing in the complete darkness of your unlit home, and it takes his low shushes and soft chuckles for you to realize it’s just John. You hit his chest softly, relieved giggles escaping your throat.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in for a soft peck.

“Sorry, darlin’. Thought I’d surprise ya and show up a bit early,” he hums, large, warm hands engulfing your face as he pulls you in for a longer kiss.

You hum contentedly as his hands wander down to your waist, fingernails gently scratching the nape of his neck before you finally pull away with a dazed smile. His kisses tend to do that to you, leave you utterly speechless. You turn on the lamp that rests on your kitchen counter and before you can move to switch on the rest of the lights, John cusps your jaw firmly in his hand, dark eyebrows furrowed in concern. You yelp a little, not from pain, but surprise.

“You’ve been cryin’,” John observes, eyes scanning over your tear-streaked face now that it’s illuminated.

“It’s nothing,” you shrug with a soft grin, gently wrapping your fingers around his wrist to coax him to let go of your chin.

“It’s not nothin’ if it made you cry,” he insists, intertwining your fingers with his and guiding you into the living room.

John sits on your couch and pulls you onto his lap, rubbing away the black stains on your cheeks with a sturdy thumb. He presses another short kiss to your lips, then your cheekbone, then your forehead.

“Talk to me, love,” he whispers, gaze flickering between your quickly dampening eyes.

“It’s stupid,” you laugh. “I-I just… I miss the kids, and finding new work is difficult.”

It’s not a complete lie—you do miss keeping the children, and finding a new family to nanny for has proved to be a hassle—but it’s not the entire truth either. It’s just that you and John haven’t talked about having kids yet, or anything about the future, really. You didn’t want to scare him off with that kind of talk. The last thing you want to do is add to his already overflowing list of stresses, but he can see right through you.

“What else?” He presses, fingertips massaging your shoulders in a soothing motion.

You hesitate before sighing, shutting your eyes which only urges hot tears to spill from your waterline. John tuts, rubbing his thumbs over your eyelids to get you to look at him once more.

“Tell me,” he whispers, cradling the back of your neck in gentle palms.

“I wanna be a mom,” you sniffle, a breathy sob escaping your parted lips. “I want a baby that’s mine, not one that I just take care of for a few hours a week, mine.”

John hums, and it’s quiet for a few moments. You cry a little harder, thinking you messed up and now this man that you adore wants nothing to do with you, but your sobs are interrupted by a fit of laughter from the man whose lap you sit on. You furrow your eyebrows, hurt that he thought your confession dumb enough to laugh in your face about. Your worries cease when he nuzzles his nose against yours, peppering short, sweet kisses to your swollen lips.

“If I were a worse man, I’d dare say I told you so,” John grins cheekily, kissing away the tears from your distraught face.

“What are you talking about?” You huff, confused by his onslaught of affection.

“Don’t you remember, love? When I first met you and the little ones that day, you just had this… look about you. I could see the love, the longing in your eyes, and I asked if you wanted to be a mum.”

The memory hits you like a freight train, and you remember the way his words caught you off guard, made you stutter until you were sure you looked like a fool. You had forgotten all about it until now.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, darlin’?” His voice drops to a kind timbre, affection clear in his warm gaze.

“We haven’t even been together a year,” you frown. “I didn’t want to… y’know, scare you away.”

“Scare me away?” He asks breathlessly, his voice cracking, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was in pain.

“Never. Nothing you do could ever scare me away, sweet girl. I would rip out my heart and present it to you on a silver platter if you asked. Hell, I still would even if you didn’t ask me to. Don’t you get it, darlin’? You’re my girl. I would do anythin’ and everythin’ for you. Whatever you need. Whatever you want.”

“Even a baby?” You giggle through a scratchy throat, wiping the snot from your nose with the back of your hand.

“Especially a baby,” he hums with a wide smile, and you trace the soft lines that form around his eyes tenderly.

John cups your face and pulls you in for a passionate kiss that steals your breath and all of your worries away, like he’s trying to take the burdens off of you and absorb them into himself. All he wants is your happiness, your smiles, your laughter. If he could, he would take away anything that dares make your lips twitch into something that even resembles a frown. When he pulls back, his grip on your face tightens ever-so-slightly, and his expression turns stern.

“I’m serious about you. Y’know that, yeah? Doesn’t take a year for me to figure that much out,” John murmurs, thumb tracing over your plush bottom lip. “But if you aren’t ready, or even sure that you want to be with me, then-”

“I do,” you interrupt hastily, muttering a small sorry when you see his eyebrows raise in surprise. “I do want to be with you. I’ve known that for a while now.”

“And is that because you really want me, or because I can give you a baby?” He jokes, nuzzling his face into your neck, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle.

You tug at his hair playfully, sharp breaths heaving through your chest as you try to shy away from his relentless teasing. His movements still after a moment and he presses a chaste kiss to the skin right beneath your ear before he leans against the back of the couch. John wraps his arms around your waist and guides you to rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling into his firm body. He rests his cheek on top of your hair, hands aimlessly roaming your back.

“Marry me,” he whispers after a good moment of silence, and you stiffen.

“What?” You lift your head to look at him, eyes wide with shock.

“Marry me,” John repeats, his bright blue eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “We want to be with each other, yeah? Why waste anymore time?”

“John, I…” you trail off, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

“I love you,” he interjects, rough fingers squeezing your waist affectionately. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s all I fuckin’ think about, darlin’. You’re all I think about.”

Fresh tears form in your eyes, and John’s heart drops. Perhaps he was the one to scare you away with his bluntness. With trembling hands, he wipes away your tears and shushes you sweetly. He thinks that being skinned alive would hurt significantly less than seeing the way your bottom lip quivers as you cry.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. You don’t have to give me an answer right now, or even at all if that’s what you want. I’ll wait as long as it takes, darlin’, I’ll-”

“Stop talking,” you sniffle, giggling under your breath as you press a finger to his lips. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

For the first time in your relationship, you see him blush, his entire face and the tips of his ears reddening rapidly. He clears his throat and suddenly he’s the one that can’t look you in the eye. You cup his bearded cheeks in your hands and tilt his head up to look at you, that sweet smile he fell so head over heels for adorning your face.

“I love you,” you confirm, and watch as his eyes glisten with unspeakable happiness.

John pulls your face down to lock his lips with yours once more, small puffs of relieved breaths mingling with your own. Your mouth has never felt softer, never tasted sweeter, never pressed so perfectly against his own. All the hell he’s been through, all the hardships he faced, the pain he’s dealt and the wrongs he’s suffered are all worth it now, with you in his arms. If it meant that you would be his every single time, he would spend every life after this one pursuing you until the end of the world.

He just wishes that time could stand still for this very moment so he can cherish it for eternity.

Next ->

[aquasarsstuff]

100 Followers Event: Villainess Au ft. Riddle Rosehearts x F!reader

Masterlist Kofi Account

A/N: If you saw my Lilia post about this Au, I'll also be making the character's pov as best as I can lol. Anyway, enjoy this riddle fic.

___

You do not remember who you were before, but you were sure you've read about this world in a different place and time. You look beside you to see Riddle, your fiancé. His eyes ever so diligent skims over the text in each page. He was too distracted that you started to openly stare at him.

"Is there something wrong?" His blue eyes met yours, and at the sight of the rarest color in nature snap you out of your trance. Beside his bed, there was a mirror standing on the right. It was facing you, and only then did you realize that you were frowning. 

You wave your hands in front of your face. The action making Riddle's eyes go wide as saucers. You immediately think of an excuse to say, "The potted plant on your left... is wilting! I do not like it when plants are not cared for. A rose should be bright red not brown."

"Oh... I'm sorry. I've been following the instructions in the book, but over the days it just kept deteriorating. I'll find a way to bring back its color," he says meekly.

Looking at the kid's face, you knew you have said the wrong thing. He looks like he was just about to cry. You shifted to the side. From what you remember from your robbed memories, he was terrifying after ascending of age. Meanwhile, you were an uptight lady, someone that has the same views as his mother that will eventually die early someday. You gasp out loud. This was no good. 

"Your highness are you alright?" he moves a little bit to examine you. You turn around, and suddenly both of your faces were in a close approximate. His cheeks brighten red. When he about to speak, you place a finger on his lips. 

"I am quite well. You know what?" You slide the books on the table and reach for the potted rose to place it on the middle. "While it is important that you know how to handle a plant, sometimes you just need love to nourish it." You pointed to the soil. It was damp, indicating that he hasn't been neglecting it. "Hm... well, look at this new bud that sprout out of its stem. See that you take care of it this one with love."

"Yes... your highness. I promise."

 "Riddle," immediately he became your focal point. "You should just call me by name when were alone. Wait... how about this? What do you think of using this as a promise tool?" 

"A promise... tool?"

You place the potted rose between you, "Riddle Rosehearts, I pledge that until this stem keeps producing beautiful roses, I will stay by your side!" 

"Uhm..." 

"You grab his hands, "I won't force you to make a promise right now. You can even keep it a secret. I know that you will fulfill it, nonetheless." 

____

"Riddle, take this," you gave him a white handkerchief. Each of its sides were embroidered with two roses— one was white, and one was red. "Think of it as a blessing from me."

Years have passed, and you were glad that you were able to retain a good relationship with him. You don't know how the plot will exactly play out, but you hope that from his trust will be the key for you to avoid the trial room, with him as the judge for your fate. 

 "Isn't this a custom meant for knights? I am not going to war—" 

"But you will still be away. You're going abroad to study, and it isn't like before that you'll just be gone for a few days. You'll be away in another country for years."

He did not say anything.

"I made it myself for you. We can exchange letters, but I promise that I'll always be by your side, so accept it!" you insisted, pushing it to his hands. 

"You did not even see the state of the rose for years."

"I know that you are still taking care of it. Otherwise, you would have already push me away."

He sighs, safely hiding your gift in his pocket, "I appreciate the gesture, but did you really have to give it here?" he raises one eyebrow at your unkempt appearance and muddy dress.

"It's either this or I won't be able to give it to you. I didn't find the right time to hand it out," you retorted. 

"The schedule of when I will depart has been given to you few months prior. There were plenty of right time." ​

"I might have procrastinated a little bit, heh," you smile awkwardly, raising the sides of your dress to walk to a cemented path avoiding his gaze. 

"What about this morning when you have given me your goodbyes?"

"I was embarrassed. There were so many people. and our family members were there too."

"Did it not occur to you that it more embarrassing to see the royal heir running about, competing with a horse? Even your garments are ruined," there was a small frown on his face. He reaches out to the carriage door and opened it. You thought he was going to leave you here, but he stayed behind the door, extending his hands to the entrance and you.

"Huh?" you look at him dumbfound. 

"Get in. I am not leaving until your disheveled appearance is fix."

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 17, Unanswered - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, anxiety.

Word Count: 570

Previously On...: You met with the head of Galvin & Associate's, your PR firm, to make sure a statement went out refuting any relationship between you and Steve Rogers. Also, why the fuck isn't Bucky calling you back?!

A/N: SUPRISE THIRD DROP!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You managed to keep down some saltine crackers and a bowl of chicken broth Sam had prepared for you for lunch, though it was difficult not to gag, what with all the sass he was giving you about the headlines. You were feeling a little less tired, now that you had some nourishment in your system, but you still found yourself lying in bed, listlessly checking your phone over and over again for a new message or call from Bucky that never came.

Lisa Galvin had been true to her word, at least; you began receiving Google Alerts linking to your statement. Of course, they weren’t getting as much traffic as the original articles had, but you were relieved to know that the truth of the matter was finally out there, and you could breathe easier for it.

You sent a link to your statement to Bucky, hoping that would entice him to answer you, but were only met with continued silence. You were becoming increasingly agitated by his lack of communication. Yes, you were worried about his safety, but as much as you were loath to admit it, Carthage was with him, and two super soldiers working together was a challenge even the more elite terrorist organizations would have difficulty taking on.

But then again, he was with Carthage. What if he had seen the headlines and believed them? What if he— no. You weren’t going to let yourself go down that path. He had been so dedicated over the last two months, working to prove he was worthy of your trust, cutting her out completely. He wouldn’t – couldn’t– betray you like that. He knew it would destroy you, destroy any chance the two of you had to make your relationship work. You had to trust him. That was the entire point of your separation. Rebuilding trust, and you had to believe in him.

You had to.

With a sigh, you put your phone back on its charger, battery already well depleted from all the web browsing and non-Bucky texting you’d done so far today. Maybe you would take a nap. While you were feeling a little better, you didn’t want to risk a repeat of last night, where you couldn’t even stand on your own without assistance, so you figured a little extra rest would do you some good. Besides, maybe you’d wake up and Bucky would have contacted you, and you could finally stop fretting over the entire thing.

Yes, a nap sounded excellent right now.

You woke up, a few hours later with a start. You’d had a nightmare. You couldn’t remember exactly what it was about, just that it had been about Bucky, and it left your heart aching. Rubbing your eyes and trying to shake the feeling of pain from your heart, you checked your phone again. Still nothing, but it was quickly approaching the designated time for him to call you– his “proof of life” communication that had become a standard, every day tradition when one of you was away. Surely, he’d contact you soon. So, you waited.

And waited. And waited. Then you waited some more.

Two and a half hours after the predetermined call time, you’d had enough. You could feel your stomach practically eating itself alive with anxiety, on top of the nausea you were already experiencing, and there was only one person who had the answers you were looking for.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[sur-i-ki]

⇝ 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘳𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴

⇝ 𝘎𝘢𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Birth order is what determines power. Growing up as the youngest, he’s always seen this. His father attempted to implement it as well. However, Temari is as swift as she is terrifying, and she’d nourished love between the siblings after years of wariness.

Somewhere along the line, Gaara now is the crown prince for his kingdom. With how reluctant he was with public showings with his family, he had no reputation.

Well, no reputation as Crown Prince Gaara. Shukaku is another story.

Gaara’s eyes fall shut as the carriage ambles down to the main road.

Shukaku was born out of desperation. He was born out of hurried, quite steps to the soldiers barrack for a horse and a cape. He was late nights down in the heart of town. He’d give out money and teach children in the courtyard under the moonlight.

He was also the one who met you, two years ago, hungry beyond belief. He was glances to the display windows as you closed shop. He was the one who you looked up to as you handed him a croissant.

“Eat”

Gaara thinks it was your eyes and your smell. Innocent beyond belief and a smell that wrapped around him and was home.

He was so smitten in that first meeting, that he soon came down everyday to meet you. He was calming nights with his arms around you, kisses stolen as you mixed batters and kneaded dough, flustered looks as you hoisted flour bags up and down.

It was also a confession. You’d seen his tattoo, the one only known to the prince of the kingdom. He’d explained through sobs and a fear of you leaving but you only gripped him harder.

He’d expected shouting and anger. He got sympathy and compassion.

Two years later, and you’re still with him. Today, he’ll meet you at an inspection. You’d been nominated to represent the bakers district, and told him much when he meet you a week before. A few words from him to Temari, something about showing care for his people to help his reputation, and here he was, heading to your tiny bakery.

The bell rings as he opens the door, the smell a familiar scent. Around him, the officers and officials take a double take, eyes brightening and wandering to the display case. Gaara smiles.

“Hello,” you say, walking out the back holding a bowl of dough, your sleeves rolled up.

Gaara feels himself blush, your confidence and unwavering gaze falling on him. You set the bowl down on the counter, bowing to him.

“My prince.”

Your voice is going to be his downfall. He knows you don’t mean it, but your voice does something to him, and he’s fighting to keep his composure. You both had decided to keep the relationship a secret, but you’re making it difficult for him.

Gaara moves to the back of the group as you begin the demonstration. You push your sleeves back up higher, and he has this impulsive need to squeal. He opts to cough into his hand instead.

This keeps happening, over and over until he’s sure that his face matches his hair. The way you talk through the whole thing, grunting slightly here and there, and the flush to your skin from the physical work has him banishing his thoughts to the darkest corners of his mind.

Finally, as people crowd the countertops and tables to sit down and eat your delicacies, he announces in a loud voice:

“I’ll be heading in the back to inspect the conditions. Stay here and prepare a batch for me to take back to the palace,” turning to you, his faced wiped of all emotions, he gestures to you, “Please, lead the way.”

The minute he is out of sight from the others, he grabs you and kisses you, hard.

You laugh quietly against his lips, “Well, my prince,” his lips are on your neck and he can feel your voice, “Do you know, you look very dashing in these clothes. I almost messed up, on quite a few occasions.”

He chuckles against your skin, “I almost broke character there.”

You both spend a few moments together before he hears his men start shuffling around. Your voice breaks through his thoughts.

“However, I do have to say, when you looked at me outside, you looked as if you wanted to devour me.”

His noses against you cheek, leaning down to give you a final hug.

“I will. Keep the door unlocked tonight.”

And with those words, he goes out, grabbing the bag and thanking you as he leaves. There’s a new flush to your skin.

“Go to the palace, fast.” He orders as he settles into the carriage once more.

He has a meeting to prepare for.

@jone3y

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

[aetherdoesthings]

Hey can you write a fic about being in a love triangle with Zoro and sanji(non poly) they fight over reader and they (preferably female reader but gender neutral is good too) are oblivious?

Plus I love your stories!

hey aishabbbb! thanks for the compliment! i'm glad you enjoy my stories!

forethoughts: woah aether posts again on the same day?!?!? this is similar to the love triangle w nami and sanji, but switched out nami, Y/N has a different role this time.

notes: fem!reader, zoro and sanji being competitive, oblivious reader

You were the new seamstress of the Straw Hat Pirates (A role Luffy thought would be cool, since you could always make clothes on the go and funny disguises)

You spent your days in your room separate from Nami and Robin, since your materials took more space. You made different clothes for different occasions. You spent your time mostly locked in your room, since you couldn’t really help physically with the Straw Hats, so you focused on your craft.

The only times you would come out was if Nami forced you to go on a shopping spree with her and Robin, and for meals.

Two people had a really big problem with your habit of staying indoors.

The swordsman who wanted you to go outside more in order to be more healthy, and the cook who wanted you to be nourished with food and enjoy the world.

Zoro and Sani always fight over everything. Literally, you can’t stop them at all from throwing hands at each other. But when it came to you, oh.

Oh

OH THEY WERE GONNA FIGHT.

Since the moment you joined on board, both men had their sights set on you. Sanji because you were a girl, and Zoro because you were an attractive and diligent worker. They implicitly made a bet with each other, seeing who would get you to spend more time outside your room.

Zoro would barge into your room whenever he felt like it, telling you to help him train in the gym. You just went along with the swordsman’s request. You didn’t know you would be sitting on his back as he did one handed push ups. You threw punches at Zoro while he was blindfolded, insisting ‘you couldn’t even hit me if you tried’.

You hit Zoro square in the nose.

Zoro smiles at your hit, reassuring that he was okay and told you that you should join him in the gym, whether to practice your swings on Zoro or just act as a weight.

Sanji hated seeing Zoro treat you, a girl so callously. A weight? The audacity.

Sanji would cook you the most gourmet meal for breakfast, lunch and dinner, giving Zoro the scraps of your meal.

Everytime Sanji sees you exit the gym, he’ll immediately walk towards you and offer to give you a small snack or dessert after Zoro’s ‘inhumane treatment’. You’ll usually turn down, but that’s when Sanij turns from a cook to a salesman. Sanji offers to teach you how to make the snacks and desserts, which you happily say yes to, because you loved learning new things.

To Sanji’s dismay, the treats Sanji taught you how to make found its way into Zoro’s mouth. Knowing how to bake, you gave little protein treats to Zoro to eat after he completed his workout.

Zoro always accepted your little snacks, eating it right in front of Sanji and explicitly stating it was from you, just to make the cook jealous.

Sanji wasn’t necessarily losing the bet though. You now spent a quarter of your day with Zoro, and now baking with Sanji. You could be found in the kitchen learning a new recipe with Sanji, cracking jokes and creating beautiful snacks and treats.

You were completely oblivious to the fact they were doing all of this just to get you out of your room because they loved you, so you relished in getting a good workout with Zoro, and having fun with Sanji.

You’d make oven mitts for Sanji, as you were heavily concerned how he took a steaming hot tray out of the oven so haphazardly. Now, he would always use the oven mitts you knitted for him. 

You’d also make Zoro gloves, since his knuckles always gets red when he fights during harsh temperatures. 

Now it’s a regular sight to see two fully grown man argue about oven mitts and gloves.

“Why are Zoro and Sanji arguing?” Nami asks Robin.

“They’re fighting over Y/N’s gifts she gave them.” Robin answered.

“Don’t they know Y/N gave all of us gifts and not just them?”’

“Do you think they will in the state they’re in?”

[bakuliwrites]

Day One- Gale of Waterdeep

500 Follower Event, 30 Day Writing Prompts Prompt: Relic, Tender, Petrichor, Gale (BG3) Pairing: Gale x Reader Tags: Fluff, Kisses, Cuddling, Slightly Suggestive, Gale Route Spoilers, BG3 Spoilers Word Count: 741

Gale’s dark eyes sweep languidly across the page, no doubt committing to memory the poetic verses written within. You watch from the doorway, comfortably warm in the threshold between cozy library and chilly balcony, a mug of tea slowly cooling in your hands. It brings joy to your heart to see Gale this relaxed. He’s reclined in a loveseat, dressed in his usual soft sleeping clothes and donning a pair of new slippers. The book he’s absorbed in is tome-like in appearance: leather-bound, some sort of ancient relic etched in gold leaf on the cover, a hefty clasp hanging loosely on the edges. You smile to yourself as Gale cautiously turns an onion-skin page, brows furrowed in concentration as he scans the next verse. 

With a small sigh, you lean against the doorframe, looking out to the churning sea beyond. There is something deeply nourishing about your days in Waterdeep. Perhaps it’s the way light rushes across the surface of the sea on clear days, sun glinting brilliantly in the sky, seagulls calling out to one another on the drifting ocean breeze. Maybe it’s the twinkling stars mirrored on the water at night, waves crashing gently to shore and the world silent as can be. It could be the hustle and bustle of the town around you, the familiar sounds of a peaceful life you’d almost forgotten in your adventuring days. Or perhaps it’s the unwavering gentility, the steadfast adoration of the wizard before you. 

Gale catches you staring, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight at the sight of you. 

“Care to join me?” his voice breaks through your silent musing, eyes softening when you meet his gaze, “Books are always better with company.” 

“Of course,” you return, for how could you refuse such an invitation? You abandon your mug on the coffee table, shivering when a gust of wind brushes through the balcony. With it comes a pleasant whiff of petrichor and brine, a scent you’ll probably forever associate this tranquil afternoon with. 

“Darling, you’re freezing,” Gale worries, shifting in his spot to give you room to lay next to him. The loveseat is hardly big enough for two, but all the more reason to cuddle, you think to yourself. And that was most certainly Gale’s plan, for as soon as you sit down, he draws you into his warm embrace. He’s quick to take one of your freezing hands in his, drawing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. He warms it with his breath before sneaking in another kiss to your palm.

“Better?” he ventures, a gentle beam breaking through the gloomy grey of the afternoon. 

“Much,” you softly chuckle, letting your forehead rest against his. This moment is suspended in time, the balcony suddenly a realm of its own. Beyond the soft sound of Gale’s exhales, you can hear a drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop, droplets bouncing off the railing and landing in tiny ripples on the water’s surface below. Gale holds your hand to his chest, his other arm drawing you close. Beneath your fingertips is the velvety texture of his shirt, the gentle thrum of his heart. This is nourishment in its purest form: Gale Dekarios, his love silently enveloping you, body and soul. 

You angle yourself to better reach his lips, pressing a tender kiss to them, lingering for a long while. Gale’s tongue softly traces the part in your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair. He moves to press tiny kiss after kiss against your cheeks, eyelids, and jawline. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, when he dips to give some much needed attention to your neck, “You can keep reading if you’d like. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Gale’s book is long abandoned somewhere on the loveseat. You suspect he might be sitting on it, far too engrossed in you to pay attention to the tome digging into his leg. 

A small chuckle reverberates through Gale’s chest when you inadvertently gasp, his lips ghosting down to your collarbone.

“You’ve well and thoroughly distracted me, my darling,” he admits, “I’d much rather you be the subject of my studies this dreary afternoon.”

“Then you are easily distractible,” you return with an impish smirk. Gale quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Or is it that you and your irresistible charm are incredibly distracting?” he teasingly returns, laughing as he pulls you closer and lays his lips to yours once again.

A/N: I adore Gale. Honestly, I adore all of the companions in BG3. And many of the NPC's haha. I want to write more for him, so maybe a fic in the future? Time permitting, of course. Thank you for reading! Up next in this event will be Portia Devorak from The Arcana!

[silentmoths]

A vampires guide to feeding from a hemophobic partner. Ft. Neuvillette

*Pokes head out of the shadows*

Well heya. S'been a while.

What's brought this on? it started as a minor shitpost to @crystalflygeo's musings on vampire Neuv, and her mentionings of hemophobia- you know what it'll be easier to show yall.

So thats it. an elaborate shitpost.

Neuvillete x F! Reader. NSFW. Smut, general vampire goodness, Neuvillete being a fkn routine bitch because lets face it, he is.

Neuvillete could feel it. The…the pull, the desire, the need…the hunger.

The chief justice sighs as he pours over his paperwork. He would have to tell you tonight.

“Be beloved…I am hungry.” He tells you over dinner. Whilst he did not need to eat, He always made sure to prepare and join you for your evening meals…a routine one might say, he simply enjoyed spending time with his love, any spare moments he could get.

“Is that why you made steak for me tonight?” you question, knowing well his penchant for making you more Iron-rich dishes before he himself needed to feed.

Neuvillette nods solemnly, it was for your health after all; he would be remiss if he took and took only for you to become deficient. He doesn’t miss it, the sudden draining of colour from your face, or the increase in your heartbeat.

You were nervous, you always got nervous on feeding nights, and Neuvillette desperately wishes he could give you more time, but his hunger was a fickle thing, sometimes he could go weeks without needing to feed, others it was just a few days, it all hinged on how heavy his workload was. Yet he feels like more warning might be worse, because it would only psyche out his poor darling. Despite your absolute phobia of the very sight of blood, you insisted he feed off of you and you alone, an arrangement he happily complied with.

After all, whose blood better to nourish him than his darling’s?

He was always very organised when it came to this, anything for your comfort after all. After dinner and a bath, you find yourself gently tugged to bed with him, soft, nimble fingers gently massaging over your clammy skin. Sometimes you hated how afraid you were of this process, even though it had happened many many times now, without issue. You trusted Neuvillette. 

You trusted the way he spoke to you, the way he held you so gently in his arms, in the way his lips slowly travel the expanse of your throat. His murmuring compliments and praise as he slips behind you, your back pressing against his chest. Considering what he was, he always felt so…warm and inviting, welcoming, despite your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He always starts with a kiss. Most vampires prefer the side of the throat…it’s generally seen as an easier extraction point…and yet Neuvillette does not, not after discovering your aversion to blood; he instead chooses the nape, not as easy, and a little longer to extract his fill from, but this way, you never had to see a drop, and he could hold you close. “Are you ready, my darling?” At your nod, he hums, thanking you quietly before sinking his fangs in, using the light scarring from the times he’d done this before as a guide. 

Your blood tastes like the finest ambrosia to him, like the first sips of water after being stranded in the desert for weeks. If he never tasted another person’s blood again in his life, and only had yours, he would die a happy man.

He rumbles softly as you whimper, it stung, of course it did, even he understood that this was not a comfortable process. His arms cross over your chest, lovingly holding you close and steady, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your exposed shoulders.

He drinks and comforts until he’s had his full, until he can feel the warmth in his cheeks return. He watches and listens to you, always keeping a constant eye on your condition, he would never ever forgive himself if he overindulged and made you suffer for it. The next part is a rather rigorous and rushed process. His fangs retract and one of his hands quickly reaches for a disinfecting wipe, the moment he pulls his lips away, he presses the wipe over the wound, cleaning it up as he coo’s softly at you.

“You did well, my darling, it’s over now…let me take care of you.” he whispers in your ear, tone thick with love and joy. He feels much better now, and it was his turn to make you feel better.

He cleans and dresses the wound with careful hands, as he cleans you up, he tries his best to clean himself up, any errant droplet of your blood on his lips is licked away. “Rest a moment my sweet, I will be right back.” He whispers to you before vanishing into the bathroom to brush his teeth and rinse his mouth. Not exactly a necessity, but if it helped abate your fears in any way? He’d do it. You’re still a little shaky when he returns, but now that he’s sure that there is nothing, no sign of blood anywhere, you couldn’t see your wound, and he didn’t smell of it, he can finally descend to pull you into his strong, yet gentle arms, so he can pepper kisses along your face and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

He’ll ask you what you want as a treat, it could be ice cream, it could be a slice of the sixteen-slice a day cake, he didn’t care how late it was, he would procure it no matter what. Anything for his darling.

 This was, is and always will be, the usual routine.

However, one day, your dear Iudex, has another idea. 

It starts, as all feeding evenings tend to. He cooks you a hearty, iron-rich meal, he warns you. Everything follows the usual, until you’re clean and showered, skin soft and silky from the fancy shower products he always insisted on keeping for you. (He had his own, but he was partial to body products that contained little scents.)

You sit in bed, awaiting your husband, and are taken aback when he walks in totally naked. His slim, yet sculpted physique on full display for you, pale skin unmarred by any scar or scratch, perfect in every way. “N-Neuvie?” you stammer as he crawls along the bed towards you, his gaze…sweet, yet predatory. “I thought-” “Oh my love, make no mistake, I will be feeding tonight…I just thought I’d try something…new to keep your thoughts from straying, hm?” Just what had you gotten yourself into?

Soon enough, you find yourself, face and chest pressed into the pillows your husband absolutely ploughs into you from behind, your cries muffled by the silken sheet, his hands pressing over yours, his fingers tangling between your own. You were trapped, well and truly trapped; you can't even recall the last time he’d destroyed your pussy like this. 

You hear his growl from above you, and you moan for it. It wasn’t often Neuvillette lost control like this, but when he did? It was its own form of ecstasy.

You’re so caught in pleasure, you never once felt the prick of his fangs, the only indicator of a change was the way his hands moved to press your chest into the bed further, holding your top half still whilst he continues to thrust into your sopping cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do. You orgasm with a scream of his name before falling limp, fuzzy and barely-conscious against the sheets, only able to moan weakly when his hips snap forward, burying his cock as deep into you as it can before he cums, filling you with his hot seed.

That’s when you expect him to bite, when you’re in this soft, gauzy space of post orgasm. Yet he simply quietly tends to you, you feel the usual dressing gently press over the back of your neck and you blink in confusion.

“N-neuvie-” you whimper, his response is to gently take your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“It’s all over, my love. You did so well, you didn’t even notice.”

“W-wha..?”

You watch as he slowly rolls you over onto your back, giving your aggrieved spine a break after all that bending and arching. He reaches for the pitcher of water by the bedside, pouring you a glass first and helping you take small sips, before he takes a glass for himself, it wasn't quite his teeth-brushing routine, but for once, he didn’t feel it wholly necessary. 

You’re shocked, you really hadn’t felt it, there wasn't any pain.. “So.” He practically purrs as he leans over you to rub his nose against yours “what does my darling beloved want as her reward?” He asks, shifting some of his silky white hair from his face. 

“C-could we…do it like this more often?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. This was so…out of the ordinary for him, to change up the routine…so you figure you might as well change up the reward.

He tilts his head at you before chuckling, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hands move down to your back, massaging at the sore spots and making you groan appreciatively.

“I think that can be arranged.”

Taglist: @stygianoir@meimeimeirin@ainescribe@dustofthedailylife@rjssierjrie@crystalflygeo@asoulsreverie@zomzomb1e@moraxsthrone@mysnowmanandmebaby@inlustris-is-slowly-dying@pvbbyb0y

[vivalahannibal]

I'm convinced nobody in hannibal understands anything unless it's spoken in riddles. Let me give you a practical example so you know what i mean:

It took will WAY too long to realize that hannibal was in love with him. bedelia had way too much patience with him. And then what makes him finally realize? You guessed it a riddle. Bedelia could have screamed it in wills face that hannibal was in love with him but it would have just went like this:

Bedelia: "hannibal is in love with you."

Will: "huh?"

Bedelia: "hannibal Lecter is in love with you, will graham, you are will and hannibal is in love with you."

Will: "i don't understand."

Bedelia: oh my fucking god okay let me just word it like this; "it exites him to know that you are marked in this particular way."

Will:"why?"

Bedelia:"why do you think?"

Will: "bluebeards wife? Secrets you're not to know yet sworn to keep?"

Bedelia: "if I'm to be bluebeards wife i would have preferred to be the last."

Will: OOHHHHHHH I THINK I GOT IT!! "is hannibal... In love with me?"

Bedelia:FINALLY! Yes, yes he is.

Will: wait... Now I'm confused.. Is he or not?

Bedelia: Jesus christ. Let me riddle it for you. "could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes."

Will:wow, it all makes sense now.

Bedelia:good finally you understand. Do you like him too though? Oh sorry of course let me rephrase that. "but do you ache for him?"

Tell me this isn't what would happen. You're wrong.(im so unfunny send help)

[ltash]

Ethereal

Simon Ghost Riley x Vampire hybrid

Part- 3 "Love At First Sight"

Link to part 1 and 2 in the end.

In the midst of the Russian Frozen Tundra,Ghost crossed paths with you, a beautiful vampire hybrid who hides a secret in her heart.

"Every choice has a consequence; every decision, a price."

"Sorry! I couldn't see you and I thought you were an enemy, so I shot," Ghost said, sitting beside you, his tone filled with genuine remorse.

You nodded slowly, understanding the confusion in the midst of the storm. "I understand," you replied softly. "It was a chaotic night."

Ghost rose and walked to a nearby chair where he had draped some clothing. "Here," he said, handing you a clean T-shirt and a hoodie. "You should get out of those rags and into something warmer."

You took the clothes from him, feeling the softness of the fabric. "Thank you," you said, appreciating the gesture. As you dressed, Ghost respectfully turned his back to give you some privacy. The T-shirt was a bit big on you, but it was warm and comfortable. The hoodie enveloped you in a cocoon of warmth, and you felt more human than you had in days.

Once you were dressed, Ghost turned back to you. "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?" he asked, his concern evident in his eyes.

You nodded, realizing how famished you were. "Yes, please. I haven't eaten in a while."

Ghost nodded and went to the small kitchen area. He returned shortly with a bowl of hot soup and a piece of bread. "This should help," he said, handing you the food.

You took the bowl, the warmth seeping into your hands. "Thank you," you said again, your voice filled with gratitude.

As you ate, Ghost sat beside you, his presence reassuring. "You need to regain your strength," he said softly. "We'll take it one step at a time."

The soup was simple but nourishing, and you felt a wave of relief as you ate. Ghost watched over you, ensuring you were comfortable and had everything you needed.

You ate like you were hungry for ages, devouring the hot soup and bread with an intensity that spoke of days without proper nourishment. You drank water as if you were thirsty for a river, gulping it down eagerly. Each bite and sip seemed to bring a bit of life back into your weary body.

Ghost sat on the chair opposite you, watching in amazement. His eyes followed your every movement, filled with a mix of concern and wonder. He had seen people in desperate situations before, but there was something different about you—something both fragile and fierce.

"You must have been out there for a long time," he said softly, breaking the silence. "It's a miracle you survived."

You nodded between bites, swallowing a mouthful of bread. "I was... looking for food, for anything to survive. The storm came out of nowhere."

Ghost leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're incredibly strong to have made it this far," he said. "But you need to take it easy now. Let your body heal."

You met his gaze, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "Thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't found me."

As you finished the last of the soup, you felt a warmth spread through you.

After you finished eating, Ghost leaned forward, his expression serious. "Aurora, I need to check your wound," he said gently. "We need to make sure it's healing properly."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of nervousness and trust. "Okay," you agreed, allowing him to peel back the blanket.

With careful hands, Ghost began to remove the bandage. His brow furrowed in concentration as he expected to see the injury he had treated the night before. But as the last piece of gauze fell away, he froze.

There was no open wound, only neatly stitched skin. The area looked as though it had been healing for weeks, not hours.

His eyes widened in disblief and he was left gobsmacked. "This... this isn't possible," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "A sniper wound can't heal overnight."

You avoided his gaze, the weight of his questions pressing down on you. Without a word, you began to gather your clothes, pulling on your trousers and slipping into your shoes. Ghost watched you, confusion and determination etched into his features.

As you moved towards the door, intent on leaving, Ghost suddenly grabbed you, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall. His hand wrapped around your fragile neck, not squeezing but holding you firmly in place. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a mixture of desperation and determination.

"Who are you? Tell me right now, or I won't let you leave," he demanded, his voice low and fierce.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear and anger surging through you. The stress of the situation triggered a change in you, and you felt your fangs beginning to extend. Your vision sharpened, and a low growl escaped your lips.

He stumbled back, releasing his grip on your neck. "What the hell?" he muttered, staring at you in shock.

Instinctively he reached for his Beretta on the table. He pointed the gun at you, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"Who the fuck are you?" he yelled, his voice echoing through the small cabin.

"No. Please!" you screamed, your voice filled with desperation. You collapsed to the floor, leaning against the wall, your body trembling. Tears streamed down your face, mingling with the fear and sorrow in your eyes. "Please don't shoot me. I won't harm you."

For a tense moment, Ghost kept the gun trained on you, his mind racing. But as he looked at you, crumpled and crying, a wave of empathy washed over him. Slowly, he lowered the Beretta and placed it back on the table.

Taking a deep breath, he knelt down a few feet away from you. "Explain," he said, his voice softer but still firm.

You took a few moments to gather yourself, wiping away your tears. "My name is Aurora," you began, your voice shaking. "I’m a hybrid—part vampire, part human. My father was a vampire, and my mother was human. They left me when I was born, and I’ve been on my own ever since."

Ghost listened intently, his expression shifting from confusion to something softer. "Go on," he urged, his tone less harsh now.

"I’ve never fed on human blood," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've always survived on normal food. My family—everyone I knew—is gone. I was trying to hunt for food when you shot me. I didn't mean to frighten you. I just... I didn't know what else to do."

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "So you're not here to hurt anyone?" he asked, still trying to wrap his mind around everything.

You shook your head vigorously. "No, I swear. I just want to survive. I don't want to harm anyone."

He studied you for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright," he said finally. "I believe you. But you need to understand, this is a lot to take in. You're not just any ordinary person."

You nodded, relieved tears still glistening in your eyes. "I know. And I'm sorry for scaring you. I just... I didn't have a choice."

Ghost listened intently, his mind racing to process the information."That explains how you healed so quickly."

You nodded, feeling a sense of vulnerability. "I've been on my own for a long time, hiding who I am. I didn't know if I could trust you, and that's why I tried to leave."

Ghost took a step closer, his eyes filled with a newfound understanding. "I get it," he said, his voice gentle. "But you don't have to hide anymore."

The tension between you and Ghost crackled like electricity, palpable in the air as you took a deliberate step closer to him. Your eyes, pools of liquid silver, bore into his, and for a moment, he felt as though you could see straight through him.

"Simon Riley is a good name," you said softly, your voice a whisper that echoed in the quiet room.

Ghost's brows furrowed in confusion. "How do you know my name?" he asked, his voice guarded.

Your lips curved into a knowing smile, and Ghost could almost sense the enigmatic aura surrounding you. "I can read your mind, Ghost," you confessed, your words hanging in the air like a secret unveiled.

Ghost's eyes widened in astonishment, a flicker of apprehension dancing in their depths. "You can read my mind?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid of confirming his worst fears.

You nodded, your gaze unwavering. "And I can hear your heartbeat too," you continued, your voice gentle yet haunting. "It's beating really fast."

Ghost's heart pounded in his chest, the realization sinking in like an anchor weighing him down. He had always prided himself on being one step ahead, on keeping his thoughts and emotions tightly guarded. But now, faced with your unnerving abilities, he felt exposed, vulnerable.

"Who... what exactly are you?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the rapid thud of his heart.

Your smile widened, "You already know."

Ghost swallowed hard, a sense of unease settling in the pit of his stomach. He knew he should be afraid, should distance himself from this mysterious woman with the ability to unravel his innermost thoughts.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Aurora's words hung in the air, piercing through the veil of stoicism Ghoat had carefully woven around himself. He felt a shiver run down his spine, as if she had unearthed secrets he had long buried deep within his soul.

"You're hiding a lot of pain inside, Simon," Aurora continued, her voice gentle yet probing. "The pain of loss, I can sense it. You lost the ones you love just like me, but you live this life fearlessly and get your hands dirty so the world stays clean. I can sense the blood on your hands and how many people you have killed."

Simon's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he struggled to maintain his composure. He had spent years burying his pain beneath layers of duty and determination, refusing to let it consume him. But now, faced with Aurora's unwavering perception, he felt as if the floodgates had been opened, threatening to drown him in a sea of memories and regrets.

"I've lost people," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I care to count. But I don't dwell on the past. I focus on the mission, on keeping people safe."

Aurora nodded, her expression filled with empathy. "I understand," she said softly. "But carrying that pain alone will only weigh you down. You don't have to face it alone, Simon."

Simon's walls trembled, the barriers he had erected to shield himself from the world threatening to crumble. He wanted to push her away, to retreat into the safety of solitude. But a part of him longed for the comfort of companionship, for someone to share the burden he had carried for so long.

Simon hesitated, his heart torn between fear and longing. Could he allow himself to be vulnerable, to let someone see the depths of his pain?

"No rescue is coming your way. Not soon enough," you said, your voice steady and certain.

Ghost's eyes narrowed slightly, his wariness returning. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to mask the unease in his voice.

You took a deep breath, your gaze unwavering. "I don't sense or hear anybody coming our way, so I guess you'll have to be alone for quite a while," you said calmly.

Ghost's expression hardened as he processed your words. "And how do you know that?" he asked, his tone tinged with suspicion.

You met his gaze, your silver eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. "I can hear things most people can't. Sense things beyond the ordinary," you explained. "And right now, I sense that we're on our own."

A tense silence filled the room as Ghost absorbed your words. His instincts, honed by years of combat and survival, told him to be cautious, but there was something about your demeanor that suggested you were telling the truth. He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his masked face.

"Alright," he said finally, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. "Looks like we’re stuck together for a while."

You nodded, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "It seems so," you agreed.

You went and sat beside the fireplace, looking into the flickering flames. The firelight danced in your silver eyes, making them appear as if they were ablaze themselves.

Ghost watched you for a moment, his mind racing with questions and doubts. He had always relied on his instincts, but now they were conflicted, torn between suspicion and the inexplicable pull he felt toward you.

Finally, he joined you by the fire, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold tension that hung in the air. "So, what now?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "We wait," you replied simply. "And we survive."

Ghost nodded, his eyes reflecting the determination in yours. "Alright," he said. "But if we're going to be stuck here together, we need to know more about each other."

You nodded in agreement, understanding the need for trust in such uncertain times. "What do you want to know?" you asked, your voice soft but steady.

He looked into the fire, gathering his thoughts. "Let's start with the basics," he said. "Tell me about your family, your past. How did you end up here, in this frozen wasteland?"

You turned your gaze back to the fire, the flames casting a warm glow on your face. "You already know about me," you replied softly.

Ghost studied you, his eyes searching for answers in your expression. "I know what you’ve told me," he said, his voice a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "But there’s more, isn’t there? Something you’re not saying."

You sighed, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "There’s always more," you admitted. "But some things are better left unsaid, at least for now."

He nodded, accepting your response but not fully satisfied. "Fair enough," he said, leaning back against the wall. "But if we’re going to make it through this, we need to trust each other."

You looked at him, seeing the truth in his words. "I understand," you said. "And I do trust you, Ghost. More than you know."

The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken questions and the crackling of the fire. Outside, the storm had finally subsided, leaving a world blanketed in snow and silence. The tension in the room eased slightly, the shared warmth of the fire providing a momentary reprieve from the harsh reality outside.

Ghost glanced at you, his eyes softening. "Get some rest," he said.

Ghost stood to leave, but you reached out and held his wrist. "Stay," you said, your voice a soft plea. "Tell me about yourself, Simon."

He hesitated for a moment, then sat back down beside you, leaning against the wall. "Don't you read minds?" he asked, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I thought you already knew about me."

"Yeah," you replied with a faint smile, "but I want to hear it from you."

Ghost sighed, his eyes distant as he began to speak. "I'm Lieutenant Simon Riley. They call me Ghost. I work with the Special Air Service, SAS. It's a British elite force. I was on a mission here, but after the completion, I got stuck."

"We have Captain Price, Gaz, and...

'Soap' MacTavish," you added, smiling.

His eyes widened slightly. "Yes, how do you know about him?"

"I told you, I can read your mind, Ghost," you reminded him, your smile widening.

He looked at you, his chocolate brown eyes delving deep into your frozen, icy orbs. He took in your pink, plump lips and porcelain skin, mesmerized by your ethereal beauty. Slowly, he placed his gloved hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb gently over your lips.

"You are so fucking pretty, Aurora," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your cold skin.

He removed his gloves and touched your face with his bare hands, still brushing his thumb over your lips. His touch, his scent, was intoxicating, throwing you off the edge. You had never wanted human blood before, but now the craving was spiraling out of control.

"Don't do this to me, please," you said, your voice trembling with restraint.

"Why?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His words sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire in the sensitive spot between your legs.

You looked into his eyes, your resolve weakening. "I never craved blood before, but now I cannot control it anymore," you replied, your voice a mix of desperation and longing. "And I don't want to hurt you, Ghost. Your scent is so delicious."

His eyes darkened with understanding, yet he didn't pull away. Instead, he cupped your face gently, his thumb continuing its maddeningly slow caress over your lips. "Aurora," he murmured, "I trust you. I know you won't hurt me."

The conflict within you raged on, torn between the hunger and the fear of harming him. "But I don't trust myself," you confessed, your voice breaking.

Ghost leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "Then let me help you," he said softly. "We'll find a way through this, together."

He pulled his mask up to his nose, his nose brushing against yours, and you fought the urge not to bite him. "Simon," you whispered, your voice trembling with restraint.

His lips brushed against yours in a tantalizing way, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart pounded in your chest, your eyes hazy with intoxication, ready to melt into him. His lips finally took yours in a delicious kiss, the taste so intoxicating, like a potent booze setting you high.

He pulled you closer by your waist, and your hands tangled in the soft hair at the back of his head. You deepened the kiss, hungry, desperate, never wanting to let him go. But with every passing second, your urge for his blood grew stronger.

Without thinking, you bit his lip, drawing out blood. The metallic tinge was so delicious in your mouth. A groan escaped his lips as he pulled back, touching his lips and looking at his blood on your lips.

You licked your lips with your tongue, taking heavy breaths. Your fangs descended, and panic set in. You bolted, running to the bathroom and locking yourself in, panting heavily against the door. You fought the urge so badly that you started crying.

"Aurora!" he called after you, his voice filled with concern.

"Ghost! Please, go away. I can't right now," you sobbed, the weight of your craving overwhelming.

He sat against the door, refusing to leave. "I am not going anywhere. I am here right beside you," he said, his voice a steady anchor in your storm.

Inside the bathroom, you slid down to the floor, tears streaming down your face. You could feel his presence through the door, his unwavering support giving you strength. "I don't want to hurt you," you whispered, your voice breaking.

"And you won't," he replied firmly. "We'll get through this together, remember?"

You took a deep breath, the sound of his voice soothing your frayed nerves. "I'm scared, Simon," you admitted.

"I know," he said softly. "But I'm not leaving you. We'll find a way."

His words gave you a glimmer of hope. You wiped your tears and took another deep breath. "Okay," you said, your voice steadier. "Just... give me a moment."

"I'll be right here," he promised, his voice a comforting presence through the door.

As you sat there, trying to regain control, you knew that despite the fear and the cravings, you had found someone who would stand by you. And that made all the difference.

Part two

Part one