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kaisentine · 5 days ago

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𝒲HAT IS THAT MELODY?

turn that shit up ! what popular song do bllk boys remind me of?

feat. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, mikage reo, itoshi rin, oliver aiku

note : YES… i did do research on what the songs’ meanings are and i understand some of them don’t fit as well but i’m also basing this off of certain lyrics as well so #don’tdiscriminate… also this has opened up my multi-character works 😁 expect more in the future LMFAO. also is this the right time to say i did not proofread

💿 MICHAEL KAISER is now playing… back to the basics by lana del rey (unreleased)

cw : uhm coercion (i think), implied toxic relationship (I LOVE KAISER DONT GET ME WRONG… but he’s still poopy anyway #keepingitreal☹️) + if you count that in, then there’s angst if you squint, thoughts of killing (JUST ONCE and it’s not serious, promise!)

“everybody’s saying that you’re no good for me”

it’s not hard to decipher you’re definitely in love with the star soccer player—michael kaiser. however, even with your rose-tinted glasses, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still an asshole. so now it honestly feels like it’s you and him (probably ness too) v.s your friends. they just don’t understand the euphoria hidden behind all his lies. but God was it hard to handle him now that he’s a hotshot within the athletic world—it’s like when you try to speak to him, he starts spewing nonsense and even more lies to you.

“c’mon, hase.” his plea sounds more like demanding no matter how hard he tried to sound convincing. it’s weird seeing a man like him on his knees begging so you avert your gaze with your arms crossed. you know you’re doomed to give into him and his sweet-talk again—like you always do—kaiser knows that, he just needs to find which button to press to make you give in faster.

this time you’re taking longer than you normally do. he’s starting to get impatient by your little game of trying to get rid of him. “kaiser… we can’t keep doing this anymore.” you finally say, something kaiser didn’t expect you to say. “last name basis already, huh?” he gets up from his (very awkward) position to tower over you—to intimidate you.

you try to stand your ground but with the way he’s looking at you, is it too late to run away?

“i know what you’re trying to do. my friends keep telling me.” you’re stubborn, aren’t you? you’re annoying when you’re like this, he hates it. “and you’re really listening to your friends over your boyfriend?” he keeps trying to talk but you cut him off, “ex-boyfriend. please, don’t do this.” you’re the one begging now and he really wishes he could relish in this sight forever.

SLAM

holy shit, did you just slam the door on him? i’m going to die—you think. kaiser chuckles on your porch after being met with your front-door i’m going to kill you—he thinks.

the next few weeks are bombarded by countless messages from ness. who you are quite acquainted with him because of kaiser. all of them are along the lines of ‘trust me, he’s changed’ they’re all full of bullshit that you can smell it and scrunch your nose up in disgust. but as fate would have it, it wasn’t on your side!

“took ‘ya long enough, hase.” the sickly sweet nickname rolls off his tongue like second nature. it’s a very familiar scene, he’s on your doorstep again. he’s towering over you and your eyes are glossed over with admiration and guilt. “‘m really sorry.” you try not to sniffle to keep it cool. you really despise the way kaiser can’t keep his stupid grin off of his face at your weak attempt not to cry. “aw, it’s okay. but it’s gonna take a lot for me to forgive you.” he says in faux concern before pulling you into a hug—his cologne filling up your senses and making it hard to breathe.

the urge to punch him in the stomach is futile by the way he basically crushes your bones in the hug. oh you hate the way you can never get rid of him, oh you hate the way you give into him, oh you hate the way he’s the one wanting the apology when it’s actually you who deserves such privilege.

‘i hate you but i really just hate the way i love you too much to let go.’

because eventually, you know you’ll always fall into his traps no matter how far you run away. however, the only thing on your mind is how you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends.

💿 ITOSHI SAE is now playing… no one noticed by the marias

cw : angst, hurt/little to no comfort (guys… please don’t burn me), OK but open-ending, uh sae might be a really super big asshole here, i also realized at the end that 7 weeks and 3 days by yungatita would’ve been better but YOLO

“come on, don’t leave me, it can’t be that easy, babe.”

as much as you’d like to make him stay, you know he wouldn’t. he wanted to be as free as a bird in the sky with no restraints—including a relationship. even after promising one day he’d come back, reassuring you that you’ll always be his answer, he then left without a trace. now you’re just starting to realize letting go is easier than it seems until the problem arises once again.

you know he already told you that he’d come back but why only now does he decide to show up? a lover of yours to whom you vowed to never love another before his return. it’s just been so long that you doubt he evens remembers the promise.

“didn’t think you’d actually turn up.” you spit out, he isn’t even phased by the malice in your tone. “i told you i would, didn’t i?” he responds. “yeah but that was like ten fucking years ago?” you emphasize the ten fucking years because seriously, ten years radio silence and he thinks he can just slide back into you life like that? he must be a crazed man.

for the first three years of those ten, you were content with waiting for him. the fourth and fifth, you began growing impatient. sixth, you felt like you didn’t care anymore. from the seventh to ninth year, you swore you hated him with a dagger aimed to your heart. lastly, on the tenth year (on which he decided to show up), you finally accepted he did not give a shit and that you shouldn’t either.

“i needed to prioritize my career before i could support any of my relationships.” he now sounds confused by the way you’re so upset at this situation.

he used the ten years you took to realize that dwelling on some dumb red-head wasn’t worth it to work on his soccer career? “you could’ve texted.” you retorted. “didn’t have the time to.” your jaw actually wants to drop by how ignorant his response is. he’s talking to the person he ghosted for a decade like this?

you’d like to joke around and say ‘damn sae, you’re just like an ex who slides back into your life’ but it isn’t a joke—not with him, at least. “didn’t have time to? it would’ve been better if you never had the time to. just let us go, itoshi.” the way you say his last name is deadly. he’s already been bitten by a snake once before so he knows he can survive your bite.

does he even know how much you sacrificed? did he put two and two together to realize how much he made an impact to you? so much so that at one point, anything would’ve reminded you of him.

“you’re being emotional, talk to me when you aren’t.” he says as if he wasn’t the one who started the conversation—the nerve!

“my number is the same but change the last digit to 8.” and off he goes, removing himself from your life like always.

the way you’re quietly dialing the phone that night completely destroys everything you worked for—like you’re crumbling down just for the thought that he might pick up.

💿 MIKAGE REO is now playing… show me how by men i trust

cw : guys it’s getting too angsty for me i might cry, still a lil angst and neglect but it’s not that bad 😭, i acc wrote this one last bc i didn’t know which song to use for him (my first option was shameless by avenoir), when i was writing this… i was thinking abt melania and trump’s relationship (WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE.), reader eats meat… anyway… so this is significantly worse than everyone elses so uhm, cliff hanger who!

“show me how you care.”

everyone keeps commenting on how lucky you are that you managed to bag a billionaire’s son and you say thanks! because that’s how you should respond. but dear God, does he even know anything about you anymore? being in a chokehold relationship with mikage corp’s heir isn’t too hard until you start questioning reo’s love for you. yeah he’s shown you how he loves you but you need more words instead of actions and a credit card.

“reo, can we talk?” you ask the purple-haired male while he’s hard at work at his desk. “i’m a bit busy right now. we can talk later, yeah? go out and use my card as an apology.” he hums before returning his vision back to whatever he was doing. it’s the typical response you were expecting but you didn’t want to use his money—you wanted to talk.

you’ve already exited the room to go to the mall anyway. you’re left eating alone at some restaurant with shopping bags being used as your excuse for some company. the steak you ordered is bland like the way reo hugs you. his touches feel empty now, every time you go to hold his hand, he doesn’t flat out reject it but he doesn’t squeeze your hand the same way you do—the same way he used to.

one thing about reo is that it seems like he hates communication and in his world, the only way he knows how to say sorry is his credit card.

he doesn’t care, does he?

when you get back to his place, he acts like he doesn’t remember the way you said that you wanted to talk. he keeps trying to put off that talk for as long as he can. it’s gotten to the point you have that stupid look on your face—cheeks being slightly puffed out with your eyebrows furrowed. reo hates the look on your face so he approaches you with caution.

“you good?” he asks but you don’t respond. “need a hug?” he just keeps talking to the point you feel like something is boiling in your head. you shake your head to say no because you’ve started to dislike his emotionless hugs—feels like you’re hugging a log with brittle twigs. how would he feel like if you gave him the same treatment he’s given you? although, it is a bit more serious because you aren’t speaking to him at all.

his time will come where you grace him with your voice one again but that’s only when he actually asks you to talk to him! in his invisible diary, he write ‘it’s been 3 days since they’ve spoken to me, i can’t see through my right eye…’ sure he’s being more than overdramatic but he can’t figure out why you’re giving him the silent treatment.

oh but little did you know, he remembers that you did want to speak with him…

“can you just speak to me, please?” the way he says please is intoxicating to you. you’re waiting.

“fine. let’s have that talk.”

💿 ITOSHI RIN is now playing… lovers rock by tv girl

cw : unrequited love, angst, reader should go to r/aita 😭, uh kissing, this one is longer but rin isn’t even in my favs ��

“because love can burn like a cigarette”

and it only hurts because you know you can’t have him. you’d love to kiss him right now but you understand that if you do then your whole life would probably blow up into a million pieces. it hurts so much that even if your life blows up, it wouldn’t matter. can it hurt that much to just kiss him? yes.

“oh he totally likes you!” you giggle at your friend’s flushed face after an encounter with her longterm crush—itoshi rin. she tries to shut you up in a joking manner but manages to only do so after she confesses something. “didn’t i tell you?” she asks which makes you raise an eyebrow. “tell me what?”

“…he does like me.”

wow, an arrow straight to the heart much? your expression of gloom is soon masked by raw surprise. “really?! when did that happen?” you force out a smile—to your credit, you were genuinely surprised by such because never once had she mentioned it before. “last week.” she sounds guilty, the type of guilty you’d only show your friends if you forgot to mention that you got married.

little did she know, you also had your eyes on the raven-haired man for quite some time now too. “ooh girl i’m hurt,” you start with it off with faking a shot to the heart and she laughs. “should’ve told me earlier!’ you almost fall to the ground for the effects (and also because your knees feel weak in sorrow) but refrain from doing so. “sorry, sorry! come to my house this saturday, i’ll introduce you!” she says before quickly running off to wherever.

“sure.” you whisper. walking to the nearby bathroom feels more like you’re dragging yourself to it. you can’t bring yourself to muster up the tears to cry over heartbreak because she really didn’t know you also liked rin. but the way you couldn’t even cry because now you’d feel like the asshole? you hated her.

you dreaded going to her house that saturday.

sadly, time stops for no one and now you’re here sitting in your friend’s room with rin all alone because she needed to help her mom with dinner. it wasn’t a crime to yearn for someone you couldn’t have but being with the someone you couldn’t have? someone bring you to jail already.

it’s quite awkward in the room due to the silence and both of you choosing to not speak. but being a chatterbox such as yourself, you’d soon come to regret it. “so… whats up?” you ask with caution. “nothing much. i only agreed to come because my soccer training was canceled.” he answers. you nod at his words—he looks really peaceful right now.

his black hair draping down his face, striking eyes bringing emphasis to his bottom lashes… his nonchalant expression. it’s just too much for you.

across the room.

you’re across the room from him and you hate the distance. all you know is that they both like each-other—nothing more—no labels—no launches. would doing something now really hurt more than how you’re hurting right now?

it’s quick. you were quick on your feet to get over to him, you were quick to bend down to where he was resting his back on your friend’s bed, you were quick to close the space, you were quick to move away.

rin is bewildered by your actions with no words to say. “sorry!” you apologize as fast as you dash out of the room—leaving him sitting there to question his thoughts, bringing a finger up to his lips—did his mu’s bestfriend just steal his first kiss?

“where are you going?” your friend’s mom asks aloud when she sees you dashing to the front-door. “my mom called! emergency! say that i said sorry!” those were the words you spoke before booking it out the front door.

later, when your friend comes out of the bathroom to question her mom what the commotion was all about, she just says that you had an emergency—she frowns because she really wanted you to try her cooking. after dinner, she brings rin back up to her room. just like you did hours before, she advances her moves to hover her face right above his—to give him a kiss, just like you, albeit, it’s longer and more drawn-out unlike yours.

“you’re my first kiss.” he mutters out.

💿 OLIVER AIKU is now playing… why’d you only ever call me when you’re high? by artic monkeys

cw : SITUATIONSHIP (bleuhhh), somewhat suggestive..? (idk but be wary cause idk how to write him w/o making it smth like that), angst, aiku is an asshole (BRO everyone is an asshole here i’m crying), mention of drugs

“why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?”

your lame situationship loves calling you late at night after getting with another girl and now you’ve grown to hate when he calls you but you just can’t stop picking up his calls.

you’re jolted up awake once you hear that fuck-ass ringtone coming from behind your pillow. the screen is bright so you have to squint really hard to see what was going on, you’re on your way to decline the call when you see his name pop up but your hand slips (!) and you swipe the call. “oliver, it’s three in the morning.” you groggily complain only to be met with heavy breathing on the other end.

“oh don’t even. call me when you’re done.” you gasp, then end the call. you throw your phone to the end of your bed and slam yourself back down onto your mattress. does that man ever catch a break? why do you even like him. it’s not like you guys are really anything else so is it really worth it to hang on and only hope for something you know you won’t get in return?

you probably get a good two hour nap before you’re awoken by another phone call. “you done?” you ask, more awake now since it’s 5AM already. “hi. yeah.” his voice reverberates along his bathroom walls—he’s gross, isn’t he? “you’re gonna make me pick up another phone call just to say that?” you sound irritated, and you are because it’s such a hassle to keep up with him like this.

“dunno, just wanted to hear your voice.” he replies in a wobbly voice. is he high again? “…are you high?” you ask in concern as if this wasn’t his 54th time calling after smoking something. “maybe.” he says. “you’re hopeless. you should go to rehab, you know?” you snake your way into his mind but it’s stupid to think he can even comprehend what you’re telling him right now.

“nah, i got better things to do, ‘ya know?” he chuckles at your pitiful attempt to help him get better. he knows you know that he isn’t keen on doing such—not anymore, at least. he’s content with his life as it is. “can i…” you breathe, “can i ask you something?” you finish. “what’s up?” he’s being as attentive as he can be through this state, he trying his best.

you hate the way how out of it he sounds, yet he’s still trying to hear you out. “do you still want this?” it’s like you had something get lifted off your chest only for it to get dropped on your head instead. “want what?” great, he doesn’t understand your question. not wanting to give this opportunity up, you rephrase it. “i meant, do you still want me?”

the other line is silent for a while. “sure, i still want you.” he responds. “so stop calling me when you’re high or you’re with another girl.” you winced at your own words. he’s really taking advantage of the way you understand that you guys aren’t anything more than a “oh, it’s complicated” type of relationship and that you guys are technically still allowed to see other people—but he’s the only one actually using it.

“let me ask you this. do you still want us?”

you loathe him but you can’t help but reply with i do.

“so don’t complain about my calls.”

thank you for reading this far :)

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pinkisthenewangst · 6 months ago

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°`🍨: Kei Tsukishima + First Years x GN! Reader

°`🍨: Being a bet hurt so damn much

You knew boys were dumb with their stupid puberty that makes them go crazy. You knew from the beginning that first year high school will probably feel and also end like middle school all over again but you still felt disappointed. Disappointed to actually believe that it will not happen again and to fell for a tall, handsome and surprisingly intelligent boy until someone tries to attack his ego. You should have known that suddenly getting friends and being confessed to was too perfect for your boring and lonely life.

Realizing that was when you stand beside the clubroom door of the volleyball team. Silently listening to the boys, who talked while changing to their sport outfits. You didn't want to eavesdrop but when you heard your name, you couldn't stop listening. Clutching the straps of your bag in your hand. Biting on your trembling lips while blinking away your tears. Placing the fabric of Tsukishimas Jacket to your mouth so you wouldn't accidentally let out a sob. Doing all of this just to hear that everything was a lie. Being friends with you out of pity. Your relationship only being a bet. It hurt so damn much. "Oi Tsukishima ! How does the lover boy feel to almost reach the third month of your relationship ~?", you heard Tanaka's booming voice through the door. Then it was silent for a short moment until the tall one answered: "Made me realize that relationships robbing me from my precious time and I can't wait to be free, but seeing your faces when you lose is actually worth it". Ouch. Being a bet wasn't something new to you and he knew it. He was the one that told you about it in middle school and now he does the same. You heard more chaotic screaming and laughing, not really able to believe that all the first year knew about it and also the second years you saw as reliable senpais. You then also heard Kageyama talk: "I'm not good with people like her, it feels suffocating to even just stand beside her." Then Hinata continued: "At least she isn't boring!". It hurt so damn much. Not able to listen anymore, you slowly walk down the stairs. Walking past the third years that greeted you happily but you only gave them a nod and a small bow before you started to sprint so they couldn't see the tears in your eyes. You knew boys were stupid but you were also dumb for thinking it would get better. You wished the world would just swallow you whole to stop your suffering.

It felt weird. Eating alone after having finally some people to talk to about hobbies and homework. It also felt rude to just run and ignore them when they tried to talk to you. But you were so hurt and unable to trust them anymore. Not knowing what was a lie, a bet or the truth made your heart crumble in your chest. Seeing them look confused also fed the guilt in your stomach. You should be a better friend. Less boring, less annoying and more how they wanted you to be but this was not possible. Changing took a lot of energy that you didn't have. All the joy you felt until this tragic day, left you completely. Only an empty feeling remained. Looking at Tsukishima from far away didn't make your heart beat faster anymore, it only brought tear to your eyes. Seeing the chaotic duo of Hinata and Kageyama only made it hard to speak without your voice cracking. Feeling the hand of Yamaguchi on your shoulder when he tried to give you something back, made you tense and stiff. Walking through the school made you fear that everyone knew how stupid you were to fall for this bet and how they would start to laugh at your suffering. It took Nishinoya by surprise when you jumped out of your skin when he greeted you at the entrance of the school and how fast you ended your conversation when it sometimes went on until he needed to run to his class. Ah they suddenly started to feel it. The empty place since you weren't there anymore. It even bugged Tsukishima more when he didn't get any answers from you after he messaged you. It also started to hurt. Made his heart sting seeing you not looking at him anymore. His fist shook beside him seeing you smile at Sugawara but something like sadness took over his feelings when your face dropped to a neutral expression when the third year disappeared. Something wasn't right but he didn't know how to fix it. In the first time of his life, he felt heartbroken and unable to decide what to do. How unfortunate that everyone around you and him were just so stupid and dumb.

°`🍨: Tadaaaa ~ Another one but it's not really Tsukishima focused but it also is 🤔

°`🍨: REQUESTS ARE OPEN until 25th of Aug.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima angst

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nautls11 · 2 months ago

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ok but hear me out: riptide x slay the princess (big ol yap sesh and closeups below)

Chip: The Spectre

109, obviously, but also the spectre’s yearning for what once was, wanting back her “freedom” of the life she had before. The parallels between the spectre’s longing and Chip’s longing for his life with the Black Rose Pirates work so well together. Another factor is how Chip needed to learn that he was not alone anymore. He had a crew, friends, captains, siblings. Through his ups and downs, he learned respect, trust, honor, and responsibility; he learned to love again with a fiery passion he had not felt since he sailed alongside Arlin.

“I offer you absolution, and you take my hand in yours.

You felt the pain you caused another, and you were willing to sacrifice everything you thought was you to set me free.

Without sin, there is no redemption.”

“This one is vaporous. She is a dream of a life she could never have, but that longing has given her so much capacity for Kindness. She will make for a yearning heart.

Do not mourn her — she will finally be able to hold What she never knew.”

Jay: The Cage

I was heavily debating between Jay and Gill for this one, but the Cage’s final confrontation is what sold Jay for me. Her constant fear of abandoning her blood family because she has already lost so much (her sister, and soon her mother), that abandoning the last shred of family she has left would be losing everything. It is her inaction which drives much of her conflict, balancing the line between Ferin and pirate, because no matter which side she turns to, she is always afraid, because she always has something to lose. There are times where she feels like she can only watch from afar and see what will happen (especially in the case of lizzie’s war), but she must understand that inaction is most often a deficit. She has proven herself time and time again to others, she just needs to prove it to herself.

“Fear is a chain around the neck and a needle in the eye.

It was fear that made our prison, and it was fear that told the lie that

our spirits were not free to choose.

But together we left it all behind, and found a world free of burdens.

We found the beauty in accepting our dance.

This construct is a machine of fear. It has no place in our divine hearts.

Shatter it. Leave with me.”

“This one is a body that convinced herself she was only a set of eyes. She will make for a watchful heart.

Do not mourn her. She is now what she wished that she could be.”

Gill: The Drowned Grey

Unlike the others, I couldn’t really find a princess that fit gill as well as the others did, so I decided to do a more specific moment of gill’s story for his princess: his oath of vengeance and dunjon arc.

The Drowned Grey is a story of hurt, loss, and rebirth. Gill loses everything; his friends, his closest companion, and is taken away from the life he once knew to be trapped in an endless white void, to be judged by the apparitions of those who had always judged him before. He is raw, violent emotion, rage being the only way he knows to understand his pain, and thus inflicts it onto others. His actions endangered those who wanted to help him be because all he could process was his loss. And that loss he screamed at the elder’s with his entire soul, only to be swept away in the dark depths of Niklaus’ control. But after the anger, was his rebirth. He was never meant to remain in an endless void for eternity, and Born anew in the eye of a leviathan’s storm, the violence and grief was left behind him in the cold icy storm. He had his catharsis, leaving those demons behind him in the darkest depths.

“I kill you. You kill me. Back and forth we go, faster and faster and faster. I kill you. You kill me.

Hollow eyes watch from the dark corners of a forgotten place flooded by emotions left unspoken. The tide rises.

I kill you and me.

An ending is a passion that can only be expressed with a moment in time. It is a seed for a new beginning. To linger on an ending is to rob it of its life.

And without me, all that's left to do is linger.”

“This one is guarded sorrow. She saw herself as alone but in the end had courage to share with another. She will make for a deep heart.

Do not mourn her - she has finally been heard.”

anyways uhh thanks for coming to my tedtalk, i lowkey wanna do this for other campaigns, currently thinking about prime defenders and the suckening so ye 👍👍

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delulujuls · 10 months ago

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loverboy | ln4

hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.

anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!

i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny

summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading

warnings: none

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.

The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.

"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."

She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.

As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."

Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.

"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."

The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.

Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.

Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.

Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.

Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.

"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"

"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."

The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.

"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"

When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.

"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"

Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.

"We?"

"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"

The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.

"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"

Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.

"Why, have you already missed me?"

Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"

Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.

"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."

Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.

"see you then, darling"

The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."

"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.

"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."

The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.

"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."

"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."

"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.

"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.

Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.

"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."

He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.

"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."

"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.

Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.

When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.

"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"

"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."

She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.

"Lando, nice to meet you."

"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."

She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.

Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.

"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."

"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"

"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."

When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.

She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.

"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."

Y/N chuckled at his words.

"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.

They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.

"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"

He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.

"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."

She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.

Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.

"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."

She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.

"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n

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soulofapatrick · 2 months ago

Text

Lessons in Flight - Cassian x female reader

Summary: Cassian teaches you to fly

Words: 4K

Warnings: none really

Y/N’s POV

The wind roars around me, threatening to tear me off the cliff before I even have a chance to embarrass myself. My toes curl in my boots as I glance nervously at the abyss below. Why did I agree to this? Oh, right. Cassian.

He stands a few feet away, the picture of ease and confidence. His massive wings are spread just enough to keep the wind from knocking him over, their black membranes catching the light in a way that’s unfairly mesmerising.

Not that the wings are the only mesmerising thing about him. Cassian is all golden-brown skin and lean, powerful muscle, with black hair that brushes his shoulders in wild, wind-tangled waves. His hazel eyes, sharp and glittering, keep flicking to me, and his rugged, devastatingly handsome face is pulled into the smirk that always sends my heart stumbling over itself.

“Are you planning to sprout wings today, or should I get a chair?” he calls, his deep voice cutting through the wind.

“Should I not be panicking right now?” I snap back, crossing my arms to keep from flailing. “Because I feel like I should absolutely be panicking.”

His grin widens, and I hate how good it looks on him. “No panicking allowed. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

“Wrinkles are the least of my concerns, Cassian!”

He strolls closer, every step radiating that stupid, effortless confidence, and stops a breath away. His wings shift slightly, framing him in a way that makes him look impossibly larger. “Hey,” he says softly, leaning down just enough to meet my gaze. “I’m not going to let you fall.”

The sincerity in his tone knocks some of the breath from my lungs, and I scowl to cover it. “You say that, but you also laughed when I tripped on flat ground yesterday.”

“That was funny,” he says, completely unapologetic.

I shove at his chest—not that he budges an inch—and take a step back, glaring up at him. “You’re the worst.”

“And the best teacher you’ve got,” he counters, his smirk returning full force. “Now, focus. The wings are in you—you just have to bring them out.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter. “You didn’t have to grow yours in front of an audience.”

Cassian barks a laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Trust me, if I could’ve skipped my adolescent flying attempts, I would have. Ask Rhys or Az—‘crash landing’ was basically my middle name for a decade.”

I glance at him, caught off guard by the admission, and find his hazel eyes sparkling with humour. The warmth in his expression is infectious, and against all odds, I laugh.

“There’s the smile,” he murmurs, his voice dipping just enough to make my cheeks flush.

I groan, scrubbing at my face. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

“Atta girl.”

I close my eyes and reach for the power thrumming beneath my skin. It feels alive, like a heartbeat, and as I focus, I picture wings—strong, sleek, and powerful.

The change happens faster than I expect. My back burns, like fire racing down my spine, and then—whoosh. Something bursts out behind me, and suddenly, I’m a lot heavier.

“Oh no,” I gasp as the weight of the wings sends me stumbling. My knees buckle, and my feet slip on the edge of the cliff.

“Whoa, whoa!” Cassian’s hands are there in an instant, strong and steady, gripping my waist and pulling me forward before I can tumble into oblivion.

I slam into his chest, and my brain short-circuits.

His body is solid, impossibly warm, and the scent of leather, pine, and something distinctly Cassian wraps around me, making my heart pound. His hands don’t move, firm on my waist, and I can feel the callouses on his fingers through my clothes.

“You alright?” he asks, his voice close and rough.

I look up—and immediately wish I hadn’t. His hazel eyes are inches from mine, bright with concern and amusement, and his stupid, perfect mouth is curved in a small smile.

“I—uh—yeah,” I stammer, trying to ignore the heat crawling up my neck.

His grin deepens, his thumbs brushing against my sides in a way that makes my breath hitch. “Big wings for such a little thing. No wonder you almost toppled over.”

“Shut up,” I mutter, shoving weakly at him.

He doesn’t let go. Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, his wings curl slightly, blocking the wind and cocooning us in a way that feels too intimate.

“You’re doing great,” he says softly, his tone free of teasing for once. “They’re heavy, but you’ll get used to it. You’re stronger than you think.”

The sincerity in his voice makes something warm and stupid bloom in my chest, and I immediately squash it. I step back, forcing some distance between us, and flex my shoulders experimentally. My new wings twitch, the tips dragging against the ground, but they move.

“There you go,” Cassian says, his grin returning. “See? Not so hard.”

“Not hard?” I echo, glaring at him. “I almost died!”

“And I saved you,” he says, winking. “You’re welcome.”

I groan, dragging a hand over my face as he starts laughing. But even as I glare at him, my lips twitch upward. Cassian may be insufferable, but he’s my insufferable—and for now, I think I’ll keep him.

The weight of my wings feels too much to bear. Every muscle in my back trembles under the strain as I try, and fail, to lift them. No matter how hard I focus, how badly I want to prove myself, they remain heavy, limp at my sides like the dead weight of a curse. Cassian’s hands, warm and solid against my hips, ground me, steadying my shaky posture. I can feel the strength in him, the way his hands hold me just tight enough, the heat radiating off him like he’s some kind of furnace. He doesn’t even seem to struggle with his wings, his massive, black ones spread wide like an all-encompassing shield against the world, effortlessly cutting through the wind.

“Focus, sweetheart,” Cassian murmurs, voice low, the smirk pulling at his lips, his hazel eyes twinkling with that teasing glint that never fails to set my pulse racing. “You’ve got this. Just a little higher.”

The gentle teasing, the way his hands linger on my waist, have me stumbling, but I force my shoulders to relax and dig deep for the strength I know is buried inside me. With a mental push, I feel the wings twitch, straining, and then—boom. I manage to lift them halfway. The victory is short-lived.

The weight of them—massive and far heavier than I expected—slams down again. My knees buckle.

Before I can catch myself, before I even have the chance to fall, Cassian’s hands are at my waist, pulling me toward him, yanking me against his body. I almost lose my breath from the force of it, my chest pressing into his hard chest, my forehead colliding with the smooth leather of his shoulder.

The impact knocks the air out of me, but my heart starts hammering in my chest like I’ve just sprinted a mile. I feel like I'm drowning in the warmth of him, his scent wrapping around me—leather, wood, and that intoxicating smell that’s just him.

His hands stay firmly on my hips, strong, steady, as he mutters, “Careful there, sweetheart. You’re going to make me drop you if you keep stumbling like that.”

I groan, my face pressed against the heat of his chest, unable to hide how flustered I feel, how the proximity to him makes my skin burn. “I’m not the one dropping anyone,” I mutter, my voice muffled against the solid wall of his body.

He chuckles, and I can practically feel the smile on his lips, that devilish grin of his that never fails to make my insides flip. “Liar.”

I pull back slightly, enough to glare up at him, my face still flushed. His hazel eyes gleam down at me, the playful spark in them never once dimming, and I feel like I’m being swept up in his gaze. “You’re impossible,” I mumble.

“Impossible?” His lips twitch. “More like irresistible.”

I scowl at him, but before I can come up with a decent retort, his hands slide down my back, tracing a path along the edges of my wings. I freeze. The contact is light, but it's like fire—his fingers grazing the leather of my armour just above where my wings meet my back. The spot is sensitive, like he’s touching a nerve directly.

A breath catches in my throat. Gods. The way his fingers linger, caressing so delicately that it’s almost torturous, sends a pulse of warmth straight to my core. The soft pressure of his hand against the base of my wings has my pulse spiking.

I can’t help it. I let out a soft, embarrassingly breathy sound, a noise I couldn’t have stopped if I tried.

Cassian’s entire body goes still, as if he’s just felt that reaction, and I hear the smallest, most dangerous chuckle rumble from his chest.

“Oh?” His voice drops lower, sliding into something rich and teasing. “Sensitive, are we?”

My face burns hotter than I thought possible. I open my mouth, but no words come out. What was that noise? Why does he have to be so close?

His fingers stay there, tracing the spot where the wings meet my back, moving deliberately, caressing me in a way that feels too intimate for someone who’s supposed to be teaching me. I try to step back, but my body feels like it’s made of stone.

The heat floods my skin, and I feel my breath become shallow. I know exactly what Azriel meant when he spoke about the wings and their sensitivity, but hearing him say it felt like a joke at the time.

Now? Now, I get it. Azriel wasn’t talking about some innocent touch. He meant this—this electric, nerve-shattering sensation.

Cassian’s fingers linger for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. “You know, you make the best sounds when you’re flustered. Just a hint of pleasure mixed with frustration.”

I barely manage to keep my knees from buckling. “You—”

But my words fail me, and I’m left standing there like an idiot, heart racing, face flushed, my wings now feeling like they might break my back in half from the weight and sensitivity.

“You’re not mad at me for that, are you?” Cassian’s voice softens, the teasing edge slipping into something more serious, though still warm. “Because I’m not letting you go until I know you’re alright.”

The softness in his tone makes something inside me tighten, and I find myself leaning into him instinctively, my breath still unsteady. “I’m fine,” I murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “Just... be careful next time.”

His eyes flicker with something darker now, a simmering heat that matches the one flaring inside me. His hands find their way back to my waist, holding me closer than I expect, and I let him, my body melting into his.

“Promise,” he says quietly, his voice full of that strange, unspoken something that makes my heart flutter and my stomach twist. “You’re safe with me.”

But as his fingers graze my back again, a sharp shudder runs through me, and I know that I’m not entirely safe—at least, not when he’s this close, this aware of every inch of me.

The moment Cassian’s fingers brush against the base of my wings again, it feels like everything inside me locks into place. My breath hitches in my throat, my entire body tightening, and I feel like I’m going to melt from the pressure. That spot, the one right where my wings meet my back—it burns with such a raw intensity that I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but focus on the heat spreading through me.

I try to pull away, but my body doesn’t cooperate. Instead, I find my hands gripping the back of his neck instinctively, my fingers threading through the soft, dark strands of his hair, anchoring myself to him. It’s like I need him to hold me up, to stop me from crumbling under the weight of this overwhelming sensation. His arm is solid beneath my fingers, and I clutch onto it for balance, my pulse hammering through me. I feel the way my body reacts to his proximity, the way every inch of me wants him closer, even as my mind screams to stop.

Cassian is quiet now, his breath shallow against my temple, but I know exactly what he’s doing. His fingers are so damn careful, moving deliberately over that spot again. It’s not an accident; he knows exactly what it’s doing to me.

A shudder wracks through me, and without thinking, I squeeze my thighs together, desperate to keep some semblance of control, to stop myself from doing something stupid.

The air between us thickens, heavy with something undeniable. The teasing, the flirtation—it’s all been leading to this moment. I can feel it. My heart races, but it’s not just from the physical sensations coursing through my veins. It’s the way Cassian’s hands linger, the heat radiating from him, the tension coiling tighter with every passing second.

“Cassian,” I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper.

His name feels like a prayer on my lips, and he responds by tilting my chin up with the lightest pressure of his fingers, his eyes locked onto mine with that wicked, smouldering gaze that makes my chest tighten. His thumb traces the line of my jaw, slow, deliberate, like he’s savouring the moment.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, full of heat and something more dangerous. “I think it’s time we stop pretending.”

I’m dizzy from the tension, from the way he’s holding me together with nothing more than his touch. His thumb presses into the soft skin beneath my ear, and I tilt my head slightly, giving him silent permission. And then, before I can even process what’s happening, his lips crash into mine.

The kiss is explosive. There’s nothing gentle about it—no soft buildup, no teasing. It’s hungry, desperate, as if we’ve both been waiting for this moment to snap, and now that it has, nothing in the world is going to stop it.

His hands slide up to my waist, pulling me flush against him. I can feel the muscles of his chest, the heat of his skin through the layers of armour, and it only makes me ache more, ache for something deeper, something more than this teasing, more than this fire burning between us.

My fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him closer, wanting more of him. His mouth moves against mine with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs, and I give into it, give into the way his kiss tastes like a promise and a dare. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but respond to him. My body knows what it wants.

Cassian’s hands slip lower, grazing over the curve of my hips, and I gasp into his mouth, feeling the way my wings flare, trembling with need, with desire, with a desperation that matches his. Cassian’s hands slide down to the backs of my thighs, his fingers warm and firm as he lifts me with a fluid, effortless motion. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and I gasp at the shift in position, feeling his hard, solid body pressed fully against me. I can’t focus on anything but the heat of him—his chest against mine, his breath fanning across my neck, the way his hands mold my body to his, like I’m the most important thing in the world to him.

His lips leave mine only long enough to kiss a trail along my jaw, each press of his mouth sending a jolt of electricity through me. He moves to my neck, his mouth hot and insistent, as if he’s marking me, claiming me in ways that no one else could ever dare to. His teeth scrape my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

A deep, breathless gasp leaves my throat as his lips find the sensitive spot just below my ear, sucking hard enough that I know I’ll have a bruise there by morning. The thought does something to me—something primal, something hungry. I know the marks will be impossible to hide, but it doesn’t matter. The way he’s kissing me, the way his hands are holding me so securely, so possessively—it makes me want to lose myself in him, to let go of every last shred of control.

Cassian groans against my skin, and his hands slide up under the leather of my jacket, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of my back, sending shudders of pleasure racing through my body. His lips trail lower, sucking and nibbling at my neck, leaving dark, heated marks that make my pulse thunder in my ears. My back hits a tree, and the rough bark bites into my skin, but I don’t care—he’s here, his body pressed so tightly against mine that there’s nowhere for my thoughts to go except him.

“Cassian,” I breathe, my voice shaky and full of want. I tighten my grip on his neck, pulling him closer, needing more, needing to feel the weight of him against me in a way that I can’t deny anymore.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire, his lips swollen from our kiss. He grins, that devilish smirk of his spreading across his face. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough, “I’ve wanted this for so damn long.”

His words send a shockwave through me, and before I can process it, he presses his lips back to mine in a kiss that’s even more desperate, more heated than before. His hands move with purpose now—one sliding up to cup the back of my head, tilting it just enough so he can deepen the kiss. The other moves lower again, running down the length of my spine, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin just above my waist, making me gasp into his mouth.

I feel like I’m drowning in him—his lips, his hands, his presence. The way his body moves against mine with such raw, unrestrained heat is enough to make my knees weak, to make my body burn in ways I didn’t know were possible. I can’t think, can’t breathe.

The kiss deepens, and I lose myself completely in the sensation of Cassian—his lips, his hands, his heat seeping into every part of me. It’s like there’s nothing else in the world but the two of us, the way our bodies move together in perfect sync, how each touch sends a jolt of pure desire through me. His hands are steady on my body, guiding me with a possessive tenderness that makes my head spin.

But just as the world seems to narrow to only Cassian, I feel it. A soft, almost imperceptible shift deep inside me. Like a pull, like something that’s always been there, quietly waiting for its moment to take shape. The bond. It slides into place like a key turning in a lock, a subtle, undeniable connection that clicks between us.

I can’t explain it—there’s no sudden rush of light, no grand revelation. Just a quiet understanding that settles deep in my chest. It’s like I’ve always known this was coming, like my body has been waiting for this moment, for him. A part of me—the part that’s been holding back, fighting this—finally surrenders.

Cassian feels it too, I’m sure of it. His lips soften on mine, just a fraction, as though he’s caught in the same storm of emotions. Then, just as I’m about to lose myself in the feeling of him, a voice breaks through the haze.

“Really?” Rhys's voice is loud enough to make the trees shudder, his tone dripping with amusement.

Cassian doesn’t break from me, though. His lips stay pressed against mine for a long beat before he pulls away just enough to flash his signature smirk.

“Get over it, Rhys,” Cassian calls over his shoulder, his hand still firmly cupping my waist, holding me flush against the tree like I’m his in ways words can’t even express. He doesn’t even look at Rhys, his attention entirely on me.

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks at being caught in such a compromising position, and my heart races faster for entirely different reasons now. But even as I try to pull away, Cassian’s grip on me doesn’t loosen, his hand keeping me tethered to him, the strength in his touch unwavering.

Rhys steps into the clearing with his usual cocky grin plastered across his face. He eyes us both, clearly trying to suppress the laughter in his voice. “Didn’t realise you two were so... busy,” he drawls, the teasing edge to his words clear.

Cassian, unbothered, chuckles low in his throat, his hands tightening slightly on my body, but it’s not possessive, it’s playful. “Don’t be such a prude, Rhys.” His voice is laced with sarcasm as he turns his head to smirk back at the High Lord.

And despite the heat between us, the intensity of the moment still hanging in the air, I can’t help but chuckle under my breath, the absurdity of it all hitting me. But the truth is, my pulse is still erratic, my body still humming with Cassian’s touch, with the bond sliding smoothly into place between us, like we’ve both always known it was coming.

Rhys raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, but there’s a hint of concern behind his gaze. “Don’t tell me I’m interrupting something... important.”

I can feel Cassian’s grin widen against my ear, his lips brushing against the side of my neck with a lingering touch. "No, just making sure she doesn't fall off a cliff while I teach her how to fly," he says with that devil-may-care attitude that always makes me weak in the knees. “But feel free to stay and watch.”

Rhys’s smirk falters for a moment, and his eyes narrow. "I'm not watching this." He motions dismissively, but I can see the way he’s fighting to hide his smile. He doesn’t say anything more but gives me a knowing look, a quick glance to Cassian, and then a faint nod.

"Behave yourselves," Rhys finally adds, turning to leave, his boots crunching against the forest floor as he retreats.

Cassian, still grinning like a damn cat that caught the canary, leans in to press his lips against my temple before I can even fully process what just happened. His voice is a low rumble, just for me, as his hands slide a little lower on my waist, pulling me even closer.

“We’ll pick up where we left off when he’s gone,” he whispers against my skin, and even though there’s a teasing quality to his words, there’s an undeniable heat there too. Something that tells me that this—us—is far from over.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

TAGS:

@lilah-asteria @maleficmuse @fanficscuziranout @angelbunny222

#bat boys #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian fluff #cassian smut #cassian angst #cassian acotar #acotar cassian #cassian acosf

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covenofagatha · 2 months ago

Note

hey soooooo if your requests are still open... what do you think about a pt. 3 with Father Agatha where she fucks reader on the altar with her strap (the church is empty)... like... and Agatha has reader recite the Rosary, and for every mystery completed reader gets an orgasm... and maybe Agatha has like a breeding kink sort of and says she wants to make reader the next virgin mary...

obviously if you want and feel comfortable with all this, i really truly love all your stories!!

Hooooooly shit this was insane i immediately had to write this

also the rosary is so long 😩

Forgive me, Father (part 3)

What the request said lol

Word count: 3200

Warnings: light bondage, religious sex, altar sex, fingering, oral, strap on, cum lube, breeding kink, spanking, dubcon, priest agatha is so corrupt, naive reader, think this is it

The next time you go to confession, you don’t even make it into the booth before Father Agatha intercepts you, almost like she’s been waiting.

“Come back for more, angel?” She asks, sitting in a pew, facing the altar. You almost walked right by her without noticing.

You look around the rest of the church. There’s no one else in sight. She taps the spot on the bench next to her and you sit.

Just the close proximity makes your heart beat faster.

“What are you doing here?” You ask.

Father Agatha shrugs. “I like to sit in here when it’s empty and pray. Helps me connect with God, I can hear him better.”

You frown and try to quiet your thoughts and your breathing to see if you can hear anything. “What is God saying right now?” If you had looked closer, you would’ve seen the smirk on her lips as you played right into her trap before she reset her face.

“Nothing good,” she sighs heavily and your eyes widen in fear. “Do you remember the Annunciation?”

“Of course,” you answer with a nod. “When the angel Gabriel came down and told Mary that she was pregnant with Jesus because she had found favor with God.” You had strived to live a life as pure as Mary had, and thanks to Father Agatha, you feel like you’re on the right path.

She gives you a wry smile, her eyes still racked with seriousness. “And do you remember why God sent his only son down to us?”

“To save us from sin,” you say immediately. The most noble sacrifice anyone could make.

“And it worked for a while,” Father Agatha says sadly. “But now sin is running rampant again. However, God has an idea for how to stop it.”

Your mouth falls open a little. You had no idea it was getting that bad out in the world. You make it your mission to help the priest, no matter what it takes. “What does He need? What can we do?”

“Another vessel, for another child. A pure of heart maiden, just like Mary was,” she says, finally meeting your eyes. Your heart skips a beat.

“Me? Carry God’s child? But–”

She cuts you off. “Proverbs 3:5 says, ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.’ I know it may be scary, angel, but I am here to help. I will shepherd the child unto you, if you so wish to help God in this way.”

You think for a moment, weighing your options. It has always been a dream to be a true steward of the Lord, and everyone has to do their part. You remember a verse from Psalms. “The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him,” you recite and Agatha smiles, very pleased.

She stands up, brushing past you and walking up the stairs to the altar. You follow her.

“How is this going to work?” You question. The Bible doesn’t go into specifics with Mary.

“Patience, angel,” Father Agatha says, pulling out the bread and wine of Christ for Communion and a rosary. “There are many things we will need to do in order to get you ready to take the child.”

She holds up the wafer and you bow, holding out your hands. She doesn’t move, just raises an eyebrow. You stand there for a second, dumbfounded.

“What are other ways you can take Communion?” She says, glancing down to the floor. A light clicks in your head and, for the third time in front of her, you drop to your knees.

This time, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, and she places the bread on it, holding eye contact. Her gaze burns into you and you can’t help but feel that same heat you always do with her. Once you swallow, she presses the chalice of wine to your lips and you let her pour some down your throat.

The air is so charged around the two of you and you wonder if this is part of the ceremony.

“Stand up,” she orders and you shoot to your feet. She flips you around and lifts you up so you’re sitting on the altar and you gasp.

“I can’t be on this,” you protest but she shushes you.

“It’s okay, angel,” she says soothingly, hands coming to rub your thighs. Her touch feels good and it momentarily makes you forget about your qualms. “God will allow it since he knows the burden you’re about to bear. Now, do you remember that special toy I used on you last time?”

You nod, feeling the wetness in your underwear grow as you think back to that memory. The way it felt so big, the way it stretched you out, the way it felt when you orgasmed over it.

Father Agatha is wearing pants today, you notice for the first time, and she unzips them to pull something out.

Unlike the one from last time, which was purple, this one is skin colored and has two round things on the bottom. She squeezes the globes under the toy and a dribble of white liquid comes out from the tip.

“What is that?” You ask in awe. You wonder what it would taste like.

She swipes at the bead of moisture and holds it up so you can get a better look. “This is a different type of tool, one that can hold cum.” She says the new word slowly so you can remember it. “This is what’s going to go inside your little pussy, this is what’s going to fill you up with the new child of Christ.”

For some reason, the thought of having the cum inside you makes you grow even hotter. “Okay,” you say earnestly. She chuckles at how ready you are.

“Not quite yet, angel. Remember how we had to work up to it last time? We will need to do the same. But don’t fret. I’ll make it just as enjoyable.”

She takes the rosary off the altar next to you and waits for you to hold out your arms. Instead of wrapping them around your hands the right way, she twists them around your wrists so you can’t move. A flare involuntarily courses through you at the thought of being bound.

“Now, be a good girl, and complete your rosary. For each mystery, you’ll get a reward,” she says with a wink, and pulls you closer to the edge of the altar. You watch what she’s doing with bated breath and she bends down so her face is just a breath away from your pussy.

She pushes up your skirt and slides your underwear to the side, and when her finger slides through your folds, you make the sign of the cross.

“I believe in God, the Father Almighty,” you begin with the Apostles’ creed. When you get to the Our Father, the memory of you saying this while her fingers were warming you up last time hits you like a train. She finds your clit easily and rubs it, your voice jumping up an octave.

You make it through that prayer and the three Hail Mary’s with little trouble while she continues just stroking up and down your pussy, feeling it get wetter under her fingertips.

The Glory Be and the Fatima prayer also come out smoothly as Father Agatha is only teasing.

You announce the first mystery, Annunciation, and you’re saying the Our Father again when she suddenly slides a finger into you, grinning at the way you gasp and tighten around it.

She pumps it in and out lazily while you stutter through the rest of the prayer and then she pulls out. You feel empty and she tugs you off the altar and spins you around so that your ribs are pressing into it and your elbows rest on top, hands still tied tightly together by the chain.

This time, she tugs your skirt and underwear off and the cool church air makes you shiver. She grabs your buttcheeks and you gasp.

“Did your parents spank you when you were a child?” She asks and for some reason, you feel yourself get even wetter at the promise her words hold.

You nod. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. If you strike him with a rod, you will save his soul from Sheol,” she quotes. “We need to make sure your body is completely cleansed. You have ten Hail Mary’s, so for each one, I’ll give you a spank.”

Your breath comes out in stutters and you feel like you’re about to pass out from overheating. The ache inside you is only getting worse.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

She slaps you before you even have the time to brace yourself.

The sound echoes throughout the empty church and you clasp your hands so hard that your knuckles turn white.

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” you say again, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling like you’re talking straight to God.

Another spank. This time, your body rocks forward against the altar and it knocks the wind out of your lungs.

“Hail Mary…”

Spank.

“Hail Mary…”

Spank.

“Hail Mary…”

Spank.

“Hail Mary…”

Spank.

“Hail Mary…”

Spank.

You still have three more to go and you’re a mess.

The wetness between your legs has grown to a flood and is dripping down your legs. Your butt stings and the cold air works to soothe it, but every time you get a semblance of a relief, she hits you again.

“Hail…Mary…” You take your time on the eighth, dragging it out over a minute to give yourself some time to breathe and recover. She chuckles evilly, rubbing your butt.

Spank.

On the ninth time, it doesn’t even feel like you’re saying real words anymore and you can barely register the pain anymore.

Spank.

When you finally choke out the tenth one, she hits both of your cheeks as hard as she can at the same time and you groan loudly.

“Father Agatha,” you whimper and she soothes the aches with her palms.

“You did so well, angel, so perfect for me. I promise that you are completely purified now and ready for pleasure. But before we get to that, let’s say the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer together.”

She turns you around so you lock eyes with the priest and chant the two prayers and then you announce the second mystery, the Visitation, and start the Our Father. Father Agatha watches with a fond smile on your face and as you’re still speaking, she nudges your feet apart so your stance is wider.

When you begin the ten Hail Mary’s again, she reaches down and slides two fingers inside you with no resistance at all because of how wet you are.

You momentarily stop talking and the priest moans.

“You’re so wet and warm around me, angel,” she mumbles quietly and you wish your hands weren’t tied together so you could reach out and touch her.

You resume the prayer and she picks up her pace, twisting and curling, and your recitation is broken up with small gasps and whimpers. Instinctually, you raise your leg up and rest it around her and she chuckles.

It was clearly the right thing to do because her fingers can somehow get deeper inside you and your head falls back. You’re clenching tighter and you’re getting close as you keep spitting out the words, having been on the edge for awhile since her spanking.

“Ah ah,” she tuts, slowing down for a second. “You have four more. No orgasm until then.” You whine, pleading with your eyes, but she just smirks and raises a brow, waiting for you to continue.

You say the words so fast it sounds like you’re auctioning off your soul to the highest bidder.

And Father Agatha, of course, has won.

She finally strokes your clit when you finish the tenth and you spasm all over her two fingers, hands pulling so tightly against the rosary that you think you might have indents tomorrow.

She gently moves her fingers in and out while you finish up the second mystery with the Glory Be and the Fatima Prayer.

When you’re announcing the third mystery, the Birth of Our Lord, she sinks down to her knees in front of you and you forget to speak.

You shake your head, trying to figure out what she’s doing, when she lifts a leg up over her shoulder and leans close to your pussy to blow on it.

Your hips jump and you almost fall, and she helps you rest your back against the altar for balance.

“What are you doing?” You say in a hushed voice.

“Say the prayers,” she orders and sucks gentle kisses into your inner thighs. Her mouth on that extremely sensitive place makes you keen as you start to say the Our Father again. But when you begin on the Hail Mary’s, her tongue slides through your folds and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

A loud moan claws its way out of your throat and you manage to loosen the rosary around your wrists just enough so you can entangle your hands in her hair. You had no idea that someone could put their mouth on that part of you, but you want Father Agatha to stay there forever.

She stops and nips at your thigh as a warning to keep going. It is so hard to keep your mind from completely blanking on the words with her hot tongue swirling your clit the way it is, but you somehow manage to make it through four quickly.

You buck your hips without any sort of rhythm against her face, gasping out the words to the prayer. Her tongue dips into your pussy and strokes against your walls and you think you might die and ascend before God can put his baby in you.

Like the last time, it’s clear that she won’t let you orgasm unless you finish the mystery, so you speed through again, pretty sure you miss chunks of the prayer at a time.

Finally, you get to the tenth one, and when you’re almost done, she slides three fingers into you, curls them, and sucks on your clit roughly.

You orgasm, absolutely drenching her face and fingers again.

She moves your leg down and stands up, smearing her fingers across your face.

“How was that?” She asks, smirking.

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even know something could feel that good,” you gush.

And then she grabs the toy and drags it through your folds and you second guess that when she circles your clit with the tip. She presses down lightly and the pressure makes you squirm.

“Are you ready for me to fill you up?”

Your heart leaps, but really, you’d do anything to have her inside you again. Two orgasms hasn’t been enough to satiate you and you want to know what it’s like for her cum to be inside you.

“Please, Father, fill me up.” The words sound dirty falling from your mouth but she just grins and flips you back around, putting you back into the same position as earlier.

“Fourth mystery,” she demands and your head falls forward onto your chained arms as she pushes the tip in. Even though you are wet and stretched out, there’s still a slight burn.

The Presentation. You announce it and say the Our Father while she ruts in and out of you, never going in further than the tip.

You start on the Hail Mary’s and it takes her the entire first one to slide the entire way in. Your voice sounds strangled as you keep talking and she slowly starts to grind into you.

When you get to the third one, she stops being gentle and begins roughly thrusting, your rips slamming against the altar again and again. She reaches a hand around to rub at your clit and you clench tightly on the toy.

Father Agatha starts saying things while you keep reciting your prayers and she’s just loud enough to hear over your words.

“Angel, you’re so perfect, stretched around my cock like this, can’t wait to fill you up, to breed you, watch my cum drip out of you, God you’re taking me so well, need to do this every day, can’t wait to breed you.”

You don’t really know what she means when she says she wants to breed you, but just based on the way she sounds when she says it, like it’s making her feel as hot as you do, makes you even more wet.

At this point, you don’t even know if you’re saying the right prayer but things just keep spilling out of your mouth and you go with it. You don’t know how many you’ve said or how many you have left, all you can think about is Father Agatha.

“You’re so close, angel, just one more and then I’ll make you into the next Virgin Mary with my cum,” she grunts into your ear and you gasp out the words.

“Amen,” you finally pant out, and you can feel her hand brush past you as she reaches down between her own legs, and the next thing you know, a warmth spreads through you. It triggers your own orgasm, feeling your walls being painted with her cum, and she gently thrusts in and out while you seize around her. “Did it work?” You ask weakly.��

Father Agatha strokes your hair as she says the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer herself. You realize that you forgot to say those after your second orgasm, but you can’t find it in you to care. Since you’re carrying God’s child, you don’t think He will either.

“I’m going to stay inside you like this to keep the cum in while you say the fifth mystery. It’s called cockwarming. This way, we can try to let it take hold.”

You nod and begin on the Finding in the Temple. Since she isn’t moving, you aren’t constantly distracted and you’re able to get through the Hail Mary’s without too much of a hassle, although the feeling of being full still is forefront on your mind.

When you finish the rosary, she pulls out, turns you to face her, and you gasp at the feeling of her cum oozing out of you.

“But, it was supposed to stay inside me!” You cry, watching in horror as it leaks out and down your legs.

Father Agatha frowns and collects it with her fingers. “Something must have gone wrong,” she says and then looks up to meet your eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to try again.”

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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bumpolantern · 4 months ago

Text

Roadside Surprise

Pairing: Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 1984, 2020) x original female character (Poppy)

Summary: It's 1985, and Max Lord finds himself driving his very pregnant wife to the hospital.

Warnings: MDNI. 18+. Very graphic and sexual birth. This is a fic for a very specific kink space. If this is not your thing, please scroll away.

Word count: 7,371 words

Author's note: This story is commissioned by someone who wishes to stay anonymous. 🙏🏻 Thank you so much for trusting me with this story 💜 I’m actually trying to raise funds to get myself a new laptop, so any donation amount is very much appreciated, if you'd also be interested in commissioning a story, my commissions are currently OPEN. Check out my commission's page here.

Divider credit @strangergraphics ❤🙏🏻

The air inside the car felt stifling as Max’s foot pressed down on the accelerator, the tension between him and Poppy thick and overwhelming. It wasn’t just the anxiety of the impending birth—it was the way the city around them seemed to grind to a halt, as if the world had chosen this exact moment to throw them into a slow, unrelenting standstill.

Poppy, in the passenger seat of the luxury sedan was not in the mood to appreciate the car’s smooth ride or plush leather seats. Her designer maternity dress clung to her swollen belly, the deep emerald fabric stretching as her body tensed under another contraction. She panted, her hands gripping the armrest and the edge of the seat, her face flushed with frustration and pain.

“Max, faster,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice sharp, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at the dashboard. “We are not going to make it if you don’t get me off this damn road.”

“I’m trying, sweetheart,” Max muttered, his own panic barely contained. He swerved around a slow-moving car, but the street ahead was clogged, the lights turning red in frustrating succession. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back, soaking the collar of his shirt as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

“You’re trying?” Poppy’s tone was biting, her breath coming in shallow bursts. “Try harder, Max! You—oh God—these fucking contractions… it’s coming too fast!” Her hand shot to her belly, her nails digging into the fabric of her dress as another wave of pain hit her. “I’m not having this baby in your car!”

Max’s pulse quickened as he glanced at her, then back at the nearly motionless line of cars ahead. The sun was sinking low in the sky, casting long shadows across the road, the last traces of light glinting off the chrome of nearby vehicles. It was almost dusk, and the city’s usual hum was replaced by a strangely eerie quiet, broken only by the soft growl of engines and the occasional honk. But the traffic wasn’t moving.

“Just hang on, sweetheart…” he stammered, panic rising in his chest as he scanned the road for any way out. The hospital was still miles away, and her contractions were coming too close together now. “We need to get off this road.”

“Then do it!” she snapped, her breath ragged. “Goddammit, Max, I don’t need you to tell me what I already know. I need you to move!”

Max’s eyes darted to the side streets, his mind racing. An empty side road appeared just ahead, a narrow street that cut through the quieter, less populated part of the city. It wasn’t ideal, but it was their only option.

Without hesitation, he yanked the wheel, veering off the main road and onto the narrow lane. The Mercedes bumped slightly as it hit the uneven pavement, but the road was blissfully empty. Not a car in sight, just the long stretch of asphalt leading out toward the more isolated parts of town.

“Thank God,” Poppy groaned, her head falling back against the seat as she struggled to catch her breath between contractions. “Finally… some fucking space. Max—" she gasped, her voice trembling as she gripped her belly again, “I don’t think we have much time. It’s coming too fast.”

Max’s heart thudded in his chest, panic clawing at him as he glanced at her, then back at the road. “Just hold on, Poppy. We’re almost there. Just breathe—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to breathe,” she growled, her face twisted in pain. “You think I don’t know how to fucking breathe through contractions? It’s not helping, Max!”

Max winced but said nothing, his hands trembling as he gripped the wheel tighter. The sun had almost completely set now, the road ahead dimming into a dusky twilight. His mind was racing, desperate for a solution. He needed to do something—anything—to help her.

His gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, and for a fleeting moment, an old, familiar thought crossed his mind. The Dream Stone. If only he still had it, he could wish this all away—wish Poppy’s pain away, wish the baby out of her without all the agony and fear. He clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling up inside him. The stone was gone, destroyed. And all he could do now was be there for her, helpless.

Poppy’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Max… oh God, I think my water’s about to break.” Her voice trembled with panic and anger as she clutched her belly, her body tensing with another violent contraction. “Fuck, there’s so much pressure… I can feel it...”

Max’s pulse spiked as he glanced over at her, fear and adrenaline surging through him. “Just hold on, Poppy. I’m pulling over.”

He slammed on the brakes, swerving the car to a stop on the empty side of the road, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The car jerked slightly as it came to a halt, and Max quickly shifted into park, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. He turned to Poppy, his hands shaking as he reached out to her.

“Okay, we’re off the road. What now?” he asked, his voice tight with panic.

Poppy groaned, her eyes squeezing shut as another contraction rolled through her. “What now?” she echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, you help me. Get your ass over here, Max.”

Max scrambled out of the driver’s seat, his heart racing as he rushed to her side. The road around them was eerily silent, the fading light casting long shadows across the deserted landscape. There wasn’t another car in sight, just the two of them, alone in the growing dusk.

Max rushed around to the passenger side, his fingers fumbling as he yanked the door open. The inside of the car felt even hotter now, the air thick with the mingling scents of sweat, tension, and Poppy’s laboring body. Her designer maternity dress, now damp with sweat, clung tightly to her skin, and her face twisted in agony as another contraction ripped through her.

She barely spared him a glance, too consumed by the intensity of her labor to acknowledge his frantic movements. “I told you… it’s coming too fast,” she growled through gritted teeth, her hands gripping the seat beneath her as her body rocked with the force of the next contraction.

Max knelt beside her, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to think of anything he could do to help. He wasn’t a doctor, wasn’t trained for this, but there was no time to second-guess himself now. The baby wasn’t waiting for anyone, least of all him.

Poppy let out a sharp, guttural groan, her breath catching in her throat. Then, suddenly, she gasped, eyes widening. “Max… I think my water—oh God, it’s going to—”

Before she could finish, a sudden gush of fluid spilled out, soaking the seat beneath her. Poppy’s breath hitched, her body trembling in momentary relief as the pressure of the contractions eased, the tightness loosening just slightly.

But the relief was brief. Poppy’s expression shifted, her eyes squeezing shut as she tensed again. “Oh fuck… Max, I feel it… the baby—it’s moving down,” she gasped, her voice tight with both fear and exertion.

Max’s pulse quickened as he positioned himself beside her. The dim light from the open car door cast long shadows across her body, but he could see her belly tightening again as another contraction rolled through her.

He glanced down between her legs, the designer fabric of her dress hiked up around her hips. The bulging pressure was visible now, her swollen lips parting slightly, the baby pushing down just behind them, causing her to stretch. The sight was intense, primal—and, to Max, it was achingly erotic. His throat tightened as he watched, the mix of fear and desire overwhelming as he saw her body respond to the pressure.

Poppy’s hand shot to her belly, her fingers trembling as she gripped herself through the dress. “Oh fuck—Max, I can feel it right there,” she groaned, her voice cracking.

Max tore his gaze away from her body, his heart thudding in his chest as he moved to help her. He leaned over, his hands trembling slightly as he positioned her carefully. “Here, let me help you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

With a firm but gentle grip, he guided her to shift, helping her turn toward the open door. Poppy groaned as she moved, her body trembling with the effort. Max lifted her leg carefully, placing one foot up on the dash while the other rested over his shoulder, opening her up wide in the cramped space of the car.

Poppy’s breath came in short gasps, her body trembling as the baby’s head pressed lower, causing her lips to bulge even more. The tension between them was palpable, her need overwhelming, and Max’s hands shook as he reached out to steady her.

Max’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her body respond to the pressure, his eyes drawn to the way her swollen lips parted, bulging with the baby pushing down behind them. He shouldn’t be thinking about it like this—shouldn’t be turned on by the sight of his wife laboring—but he couldn’t help it. The rawness of it, the way her body moved, stretched, and trembled under the strain—it was driving him wild.

His hands shook as he palmed himself through his pants, his cock already straining painfully against the fabric. The urge to touch himself was overwhelming, but he fought to stay focused on Poppy, on helping her through this. Yet his hand betrayed him, pressing harder against his erection, trying to alleviate the pressure building inside him.

Poppy’s eyes flew open, her gaze locking onto him, and despite the agony coursing through her body, a slow, knowing smile curved her lips. “Max,” she groaned, her voice low and throaty, a mix of pain and desire. “Are you… are you seriously getting off on this?”

Max’s heart stuttered, his face flushing as he glanced away, ashamed of how turned on he was. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his hand still pressed against his pants, unable to pull away. “I can’t help it—you’re just… fuck, Poppy, you’re so beautiful.”

Poppy’s smile widened, her breath hitching as another contraction rolled through her, but the heat in her eyes remained. “Don’t be sorry,” she purred, her voice thick with lust, even as her body trembled with the effort of pushing. “You like seeing me like this, don’t you? So spread open, so fucking raw…”

Max groaned, his hand pressing harder against his cock as he watched her, mesmerized by the sight of her body stretched wide, her swollen lips bulging as the baby moved lower. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Fuck, Poppy… you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Poppy’s laugh was dark, almost a growl as her head fell back against the seat, her leg trembling on his shoulder. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing to you,” she gasped, her hips rocking slightly as she bore down again, her body stretching even more around the baby’s head. “Look at you… getting hard while your wife is pushing out your fucking kid.”

Max whimpered, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants as her words sent another wave of heat through him. He couldn’t help it—couldn’t stop himself from palming his erection, even as he watched her body strain and tremble under the force of her labor.

“Don’t stop,” Poppy moaned, her voice thick with lust as she reached down between her legs, her fingers brushing over her swollen clit. “Touch yourself, Max. I want to see you lose it while I push this baby out.”

Max’s breath hitched, his hand trembling as he unzipped his pants, freeing his aching cock. He groaned softly as his hand wrapped around himself, his eyes locked on Poppy’s body as she moaned and writhed, her lips bulging even more with the baby’s head pressing down behind them.

“You like this, don’t you?” Poppy whispered, her voice shaking as she rubbed her clit in slow, firm circles. “You like watching me struggle… watching me push… fuck, Max, it’s so close… I can feel it.”

Max’s heart pounded, his hand moving faster on his cock as he watched her, completely lost in the sight of her body stretched wide, trembling with the effort of bringing their child into the world. “I’m going to cum, Poppy,” he gasped, his voice ragged with need. “Fuck… I can’t hold it.”

“Good,” Poppy moaned, her hips jerking as she rubbed herself harder. “Cum for me, Max. Cum while I push your baby out.”

Max let out a broken groan, his entire body trembling as he stroked himself faster, his eyes locked on Poppy’s swollen, bulging lips as the baby moved closer to crowning. The raw intensity of it, the primal connection between them—it was too much.

With a final, guttural moan, Max’s body shuddered as he came hard, his cock pulsing in his hand as his release tore through him. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as he watched Poppy, still trembling, still writhing as she bore down again, the baby’s head pressing lower.

Max’s breath hitched as his release overwhelmed him, his hand trembling as he stroked himself through the last waves of pleasure. His gaze remained fixed on Poppy’s bulging, swollen pussy, the baby pushing closer to crowning as her lips stretched wide. As he came, thick ropes of his cum shot from his throbbing cock, coating her already soaked pussy, slicking over the bulging lips with an obscene wetness that only heightened the intensity of the moment.

“Fuck, Max,” Poppy gasped, her voice low and throaty as she felt the hot, thick fluid splatter against her skin. Her hips jerked slightly, the sensation sending shivers through her overstretched body. “Look at you… making a mess while I’m trying to push this baby out.”

Max’s heart pounded, his eyes wide as he watched his cum drip down her pussy, mingling with her birth fluids as her body trembled with another contraction. The sight was primal, raw, and so incredibly erotic that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Poppy let out a sharp gasp, her hand flying to her clit as another contraction rocked through her, but her movements were shaky, her body too exhausted to keep up the rhythm. “Max,” she growled, her voice thick with both pain and desire. “Help me. I need you to rub my clit. Now.”

Max blinked, his mind snapping back to the present as he quickly leaned in, his hands still trembling from the intensity of his own release. “Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low as he shifted closer, his fingers slipping between her slick, cum-coated lips. He pressed down on her swollen clit, rubbing in firm, quick circles, just the way she liked it.

Poppy let out a guttural moan, her head falling back as she arched her back, her body trembling beneath his touch. “Yes, Max… like that… don’t stop.”

Max’s other hand slid up to her breast, squeezing her leaking nipple through the soaked fabric of her dress. The milk squirted out in response, soaking his fingers as he pressed his thumb over her nipple, massaging the engorged flesh with care.

Poppy’s breath hitched again, her body writhing as the sensations overwhelmed her. “Suck them, Max,” she gasped, her hips jerking against his hand. “Suck my tits while I push.”

Max groaned, the primal command sending another wave of heat through him. He shifted, carefully positioning himself so he could lean in between her legs. His fingers kept their relentless rhythm on her clit, but he slotted his body closer, his mouth latching onto her leaking breast. He sucked hungrily, the warm milk squirting against his tongue as he moaned into her skin.

Poppy’s entire body trembled violently, her hips jerking as she bore down again, her swollen pussy bulging even more with the pressure of the baby pushing down. The sensation of Max’s mouth on her breast, his fingers rubbing her clit, combined with the intense pressure inside her was almost too much to bear.

“Fuck, Max!” she screamed, her voice ragged as she pushed harder, her body convulsing with the effort. “I’m gonna come… oh God, I’m gonna come while I push this baby out…”

Max groaned, his mouth still latched onto her breast as he sucked greedily, his fingers moving faster against her clit. He could feel her body trembling beneath him, the way her pussy stretched and bulged, the slick wetness of his cum and her birth fluids coating his hand as she pushed.

Poppy let out a guttural moan, her hips bucking wildly as she reached the edge. “Don’t stop, Max… I’m so fucking close… keep rubbing… harder…”

Max’s heart pounded in his chest as he pressed his fingers harder against her clit, his other hand squeezing her breast as he sucked harder. His entire body ached with need, his arousal rekindling as he watched her writhe and moan, her body caught between the brutal intensity of labor and the raw pleasure of his touch.

Poppy’s entire body tensed, her back arching as she let out a scream, her orgasm crashing over her in powerful waves. Her pussy clenched hard around the baby’s head, the bulging lips trembling as the pressure inside her built to an unbearable level.

At that moment, a gush of birth fluids squirted from her, soaking Max’s hand as the baby’s head moved even lower, pressing against her overstretched lips. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain, pleasure, and the unstoppable force of life pushing through her.

Max groaned against her breast, his cock hardening again as he felt the rush of fluids and the way her body trembled beneath him. “Fuck, Poppy… you’re incredible,” he gasped, his voice thick with awe and desire as he pressed his fingers even harder against her clit. “You’re going to push our baby out… and cum at the same time.”

Poppy’s breath came in short, ragged bursts, her body shaking violently as she bore down once more, her orgasm still rippling through her as the baby’s head pressed even lower. “I’m doing it, Max… fuck, I’m doing it…”

Max sucked harder on her breast, his fingers relentless on her clit as he felt her body respond, pushing the baby closer and closer with each wave of pleasure. The sight of her, so raw and powerful, pushing their child into the world while her body convulsed with pleasure—it was the most erotic thing he had ever experienced.

Poppy’s body trembled violently, her back arching off the seat as another brutal contraction tore through her. Max could feel her pussy tightening even more around the baby’s head, the pressure building to an almost unbearable degree. His fingers pressed harder against her clit, moving in tight, desperate circles as he sucked greedily at her leaking breast, the taste of her milk flooding his mouth.

“Max… Max, it’s coming… I can feel it,” Poppy gasped, her voice breaking as her hips bucked against his hand. Her entire body shook with the effort, her legs trembling as she pushed with everything she had.

Max groaned, the raw intensity of the moment sending shivers down his spine. “You’re almost there, Poppy,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with desire and awe. “Just a little more, sweetheart. You’re incredible… so fucking strong…”

Poppy let out a guttural moan, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as she bore down again. “Fuck… fuck, I can feel it… oh God, Max, it’s so close…”

And then it happened.

With a sudden, violent gush, the baby’s head shot out, fluids squirting over Max’s hands, soaking both of them in a warm rush. Poppy’s belly shrank slightly as the pressure eased, but the sensation of the huge baby’s head stretching her open was undeniable. The sheer size of it made her groan, her body trembling as more fluid gushed out, pooling beneath her on the leather seat.

“Oh God, Max,” she whimpered, her voice shaking with a mix of pain and lingering arousal. “It’s so big… it’s so fucking big…”

Max’s heart pounded as he looked down, his hands trembling as he cradled the baby’s head. The sight of her swollen pussy stretched wide around the enormous head, the fluids dripping down her thighs, had his cock throbbing painfully again. “You’re doing it, Poppy,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe. “The head’s out… fuck, you’re amazing.”

Poppy’s breath hitched, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her hips bucked slightly, her swollen lips stretched wide around the baby’s head, and she let out a sharp cry as the pressure inside her shifted again.

“I need… I need to push more,” she groaned, her voice low and ragged. “Oh God, Max, I can feel the shoulders… they’re huge…”

Max whimpered, his eyes glued to the sight of her body as it strained to push their child into the world. His fingers still pressed against her clit, rubbing in slow, firm circles, but the wet, slick sound of fluids squelching around the baby’s head only heightened the intensity of the moment.

“Push, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice shaking as he pressed a kiss to her leaking breast. “You’ve got this… just a little more, sweetheart.”

Poppy let out a deep, guttural groan, her body arching again as she bore down, her hips bucking against his hand. The sheer size of the baby’s shoulders stretching her was overwhelming, her lips bulging even more as she pushed harder.

“Oh fuck… Max… it’s so big… I can feel it stretching me,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she whimpered through the pressure.

Max groaned in response, his cock still exposed, throbbing heavily as he watched her body stretch wide, the fluids gushing around the baby’s shoulders as Poppy’s belly shrank more. His hand absentmindedly stroked himself, slick with the birth fluids that coated them both. “You’re so fucking incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “I can see it… you’re almost there, Poppy. Just keep pushing.”

Poppy’s hands shot up to grip the sides of the seat, her knuckles white as she bore down with everything she had. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, her face twisted in a mix of pain and pleasure as she pushed harder.

“Fuck… fuck, Max… it’s coming,” she whimpered, her voice barely more than a breathless moan. “I can feel it… oh God, it’s so big…”

Max groaned, his eyes locked on the sight of her swollen, bulging lips as the baby’s shoulders pushed through, her body trembling violently with each effort. The fluids continued to squirt and gush, soaking his hands as he cradled the baby’s head, the wet sound of her pushing filling the small space of the car.

“You’re almost there, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with both awe and arousal. “Just a little more… push for me, Poppy.”

Poppy let out a deep, guttural moan, her entire body shaking as she bore down again, her hips jerking violently as the baby’s massive shoulders began to slide free. “Max… oh God… I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum again…”

Max whimpered, his own body trembling with need as he pressed his fingers harder against her clit, rubbing in tight, desperate circles. “Cum for me, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breathless moan. “Cum while you push out our baby.”

Poppy’s entire body tensed, her back arching as another orgasm ripped through her. Her hips bucked violently, her pussy clenching hard around the baby’s shoulders as she let out a guttural scream, her body convulsing with the force of her release.

At the same moment, the baby’s shoulders slid free with a wet, audible squelch, more fluids gushing out around them as Poppy’s belly shrank even more. The massive baby slipped into Max’s trembling hands, slick with birth fluids, its weight heavy and warm as Max cradled the tiny, wriggling body.

“Fuck, Poppy… you did it,” Max breathed, his voice thick with emotion as he stared down at the newborn in his hands. “You fucking did it… you’re incredible.”

Poppy’s chest heaved with exhaustion, her head slumping back against the seat as she struggled to catch her breath. Her body trembled, still caught between the aftershocks of her orgasm and the sheer relief of the baby finally being born.

Max, his heart pounding in his chest, leaned in closer, his hands still cradling the slick, squirming newborn. He pressed a soft kiss to her belly, now shrunken and slick with fluids. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe as he looked up at her.

Max cradled the newborn boy in his trembling hands, still slick with birth fluids, his breath coming in shaky gasps as he stared down at their child. The weight of the baby in his arms was both grounding and overwhelming, the reality of the moment crashing over him like a wave. His cock still throbbed from the intensity of everything they had just shared, but the raw awe of holding their son in his hands overtook any remaining arousal.

“Poppy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest. “It’s a boy.”

Poppy’s eyes fluttered open, her body still trembling from the exertion of birth. She let out a soft, broken laugh, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as she looked down at the squirming newborn in Max’s hands. Tears brimmed in her eyes, her face flushed with a mixture of exhaustion and joy.

“A boy,” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper as she reached out weakly. “Max… let me hold him.”

Max smiled, his heart swelling with love as he carefully leaned in, gently placing the newborn on Poppy’s chest. The baby squirmed slightly, letting out a soft cry before settling into the warmth of her skin. Poppy’s arms came up shakily to cradle him, her breath hitching as she pressed a kiss to the top of the baby’s tiny head.

“He’s perfect,” she whispered, her voice breaking as tears slipped down her cheeks. “We did it, Max…”

Max’s chest tightened with emotion as he knelt beside her, his hand resting gently on her thigh, still slick with fluids. “You did it, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “You’re incredible.”

Poppy smiled weakly, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned her head back against the seat, cradling their son to her chest. The baby let out a soft whimper, his tiny mouth instinctively seeking her breast. Poppy shifted slightly, guiding him toward her nipple, and with a soft, eager suckle, the baby latched on, his tiny lips working rhythmically.

Max watched, mesmerized, as Poppy’s body relaxed slightly, her breaths becoming more even as their son nursed. The sight of her, still slick with the fluids of birth, cradling their newborn in the aftermath of everything they had just gone through, filled him with a profound sense of love and peace.

For a few moments, they simply stayed there, the car filled with the soft sounds of the baby suckling and the quiet rustle of their breaths. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the three of them in the warmth of the car’s small space.

But then Poppy’s breath hitched again, her body tensing beneath Max’s hand. Her brow furrowed, and she let out a low groan, her hand instinctively pressing against her belly.

Max’s heart stuttered, concern flooding his chest as he looked up at her. “Poppy? Is it… is it the afterbirth already?” he asked, his voice filled with worry.

Poppy’s face tightened as another contraction rippled through her, but something about it felt different—sharper, more intense. She shook her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “No, Max… it doesn’t feel like that.”

Max’s eyes widened, his pulse quickening as he realized what she was saying. “What do you mean it doesn’t feel like the afterbirth?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion.

Poppy’s eyes squeezed shut, her hand gripping his wrist as another sharp pain shot through her belly. “Max… I think… I think there’s another one.”

Poppy’s breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes wide with shock as the realization settled in. “Max… there’s another one,” she whispered, her voice trembling with both fear and disbelief. Her body tensed again, the pressure building deep inside her, even more intense than before.

Max’s heart raced, his eyes scanning her still swollen belly, which hadn’t shrunk as much as it should have after the birth of their first child. He could see her belly tightening, the unmistakable sign of another contraction rippling across her skin. “Another one…” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and concern. “A twin…”

Poppy let out a low, guttural moan, her hand pressing against her belly as the pressure mounted. “Max… it’s bigger,” she gasped, her body trembling as the new baby shifted inside her, pressing lower, the sensation almost unbearable. “Oh God… it’s so much bigger…”

Max swallowed hard, his cock still painfully hard from the intensity of everything they’d already been through. The sight of her, so raw, so powerful as she prepared to push out a second, even larger baby, had his heart racing and his body throbbing with need. He reached out, his hand gently stroking her thigh, slick with a mixture of birth fluids, his cum, and sweat.

“Poppy… you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire and awe. “You can do this… you’re so strong.”

Poppy’s breath hitched as another contraction rolled through her, the pressure almost unbearable. Her hand flew up to grip the seat, her knuckles white as she fought to steady herself. “Max… touch me,” she groaned, her voice thick with both pain and lust. “I need you to… rub your cock on me… on my belly, my pussy. I need to feel you…”

Max’s breath caught in his throat, the rawness of her request sending another wave of heat through him. His cock, still hard and slick from their earlier release, ached with the need to touch her. Without hesitation, he moved closer, positioning himself between her legs as her belly continued to tighten and contract.

His hands trembled as he reached down, rubbing the head of his cock against her swollen, birth-fluid-slicked belly. The sensation of her tight skin against him, still stretched from the first baby, made him groan softly. He pressed his cock against her, slowly sliding it down across her contracting belly, over the slick mess of fluids, down to her bulging, swollen pussy, where her lips were already starting to part again.

Poppy let out a guttural moan, her hips jerking slightly as she felt the warmth of his cock slide against her. Her head fell back against the seat, her body trembling as the pleasure mingled with the intense pressure of the new baby moving lower inside her. “Yes, Max… just like that,” she gasped, her voice low and breathless. “Rub it against me… fuck, it feels so good…”

Max groaned, his hands gripping her thighs as he rubbed his cock against her slick, swollen pussy, the mixture of birth fluids and his own cum making everything even wetter, more intense. His other hand moved up, finding her clit, swollen and throbbing with need. He rubbed it in firm, tight circles, his breath coming in shallow gasps as Poppy’s body trembled beneath him.

“Oh God, Max,” Poppy whimpered, her voice shaking as the baby pressed even lower, the pressure building to a nearly unbearable degree. Her belly, still huge, contracted violently as another sharp pain shot through her. “It’s coming… the water’s going to break…”

As if on cue, another violent gush of water exploded from her, soaking both of them as the immense pressure inside her was suddenly released. The sheer amount of fluid that poured from her was overwhelming, soaking her thighs, Max’s cock, and the seat beneath her. Her belly shrank considerably, the tightness easing for just a moment, but the massive baby was still pressing down, and the pressure quickly returned.

“Oh fuck, Max,” Poppy groaned, her voice shaking as her hips jerked against his cock. “It’s so much bigger… I can feel it stretching me… oh God, I need to push.”

Max’s heart pounded, his cock throbbing as he pressed it against her slick, shrunken belly, rubbing harder against her. The sight of her belly contracting, the baby pressing lower, and the slick, wet heat of her pussy against him was driving him wild. He rubbed his cock along the length of her body, sliding it back down to her pussy as his fingers continued to work her clit.

“You’re so fucking incredible,” he gasped, his voice thick with both awe and arousal. “Push for me, Poppy… push out our second baby…”

Poppy let out a deep, guttural moan, her body trembling violently as she bore down, the pressure inside her building to an almost unbearable degree. Her free hand which wasn’t holding up the newborn against her, flew up to grip the seat, her knuckles white as she pushed with everything she had. The baby’s head pressed lower, stretching her swollen pussy even more, the bulging lips trembling as the sheer size of the baby began to overwhelm her.

“Oh God… Max… it’s so big… I can feel it,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her hips jerked against him. “Fuck, it’s stretching me so wide…”

Max groaned, his cock sliding against her slick, birth-fluid-coated skin as he rubbed harder, his fingers moving faster against her clit. “You can do it, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice low and breathless. “You’re so strong… so fucking amazing…”

As he rubbed his cock against her, the newborn boy in Poppy’s arms suckled harder at her breast, his tiny mouth working rhythmically as he nursed. The sensation of the baby nursing, combined with the intense pleasure of Max’s cock and fingers, sent shivers down Poppy’s spine.

Her body trembled violently, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she pushed harder, the baby’s massive head slowly crowning, stretching her to her absolute limit. “Oh fuck, Max… it’s coming… I can feel the head… it’s so fucking big…”

Max groaned, his cock throbbing painfully as he watched her swollen pussy stretch wide, the baby’s head pushing through, her body trembling violently as the pressure inside her built to an unbearable degree. “You’re doing it, Poppy,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire and awe. “You’re going to push out our baby… you’re incredible…”

Poppy let out a sharp cry, her body convulsing as she bore down with everything she had. Her breath hitched, her back arching off the seat as she pushed harder, the baby’s head finally slipping free with a wet squelch, more fluids gushing out around it.

The sensation of her body stretching so wide, combined with the intensity of the moment, sent Max over the edge. His cock throbbed, and with a deep, guttural groan, he came hard, his release spilling over her slick, swollen pussy, mixing with the birth fluids as his body trembled with the force of his climax.

“Oh God, Max… the head’s out,” she whimpered, her voice shaking as the massive baby’s head stretched her wide.

Max, still trembling from his release, pressed his softening cock gently against her slick, swollen lips. His fingers continued to rub her clit, though slower now, still offering her the stimulation she craved. “You’ve got this, Poppy,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and emotion, his breath steadier now. “Just a little more… push for me, sweetheart…”

Poppy groaned, her entire body shaking as she bore down again, the baby’s massive shoulders pressing through, stretching her even wider. The wet, slick sound of fluids squelching around the baby filled the car as Poppy’s belly shrank more, the pressure inside her finally easing as the huge baby slid free into Max’s trembling hands.

Max gasped, his heart pounding as he cradled the massive newborn in his arms, slick with fluids, the sheer size of the baby almost overwhelming. “Poppy… you did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he looked up at her. “He’s out… you’re fucking amazing…”

Poppy’s chest heaved with exhaustion, her head slumping back against the seat as she struggled to catch her breath. Her body trembled, the aftershocks of the intense birth still rippling through her as she smiled weakly, her eyes fluttering open to look at Max.

“We did it,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath as she reached out weakly to touch the newborn. “Max… he’s so big…”

Max smiled, his heart swelling with love as he gently handed the massive newborn up to Poppy, placing the baby on her chest. The newborn squirmed slightly, letting out a soft cry before nestling into her skin, his tiny mouth instinctively seeking her other breast. With a soft, eager suckle, the second baby latched on, nursing alongside his brother.

Poppy let out a soft, broken laugh, tears slipping down her cheeks as she cradled both of their babies to her chest. “They’re perfect, Max… they’re so perfect…”

Max leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his hand gently stroking her thigh as he smiled down at their newborns. “You’re perfect, Poppy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re everything.”

The air in the car was thick with the warmth of their shared exhaustion, the surreal calm that followed the raw, primal storm they had just endured. Max’s gaze traveled between his wife and their newborn sons, still latched to Poppy’s breasts, nursing quietly as if the intensity of their arrival had never happened. It was quiet now, but the weight of what they had done—what they had experienced—hung heavy between them.

Max chuckled softly under his breath, the sound low and full of disbelief. “I can’t believe we just… we just did that,” he murmured, his hand smoothing over the soft curve of her thigh, still slick with birth fluids and his own release. “In a car, no less.”

Poppy let out a tired, breathless laugh, her chest rising and falling as she glanced down at the two perfect, tiny lives she’d just brought into the world. “Yeah… not exactly the traditional way to deliver twins, is it?” she muttered, her voice thick with exhaustion, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Max shook his head, still unable to fully process the sheer madness of what had happened. His wife, giving birth to their twins in the cramped, intimate space of their luxury car, covered in a mix of birth fluids, cum, and the sweat of their shared pleasure—it was something out of a wild, forbidden fantasy. He never could have imagined this, not in his wildest dreams.

“I guess we don’t do things the conventional way,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as his fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin. “But we did it. You did it. You’re amazing.”

Poppy sighed, her body finally relaxing into the seat, her muscles still trembling from the intensity of labor. She let out another soft laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t know whether to feel proud or insane,” she muttered, her lips curving into a faint smile. “But… we made it.”

Max’s heart swelled with so much love and devotion as he gazed down at her, the disbelief and awe still flooding his chest. After everything he had been through—the power, the mistakes, the devastation of the Dream Stone—he had never imagined that life could give him this. A family. A second chance. The weight of it all threatened to overwhelm him, but as he looked at his wife, cradling their twins, a sense of peace washed over him.

“I never thought… after everything,” Max whispered, his voice catching slightly, “that life could still surprise me like this.”

Poppy smiled softly, her eyes closing as she leaned her head back, still cradling the newborns against her chest. “You deserve it, Max,” she murmured, her voice soft but certain. “We both do.”

Max swallowed hard, his hand resting on her belly, which was still soft and contracting slightly, the aftershocks of what her body had just endured. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “Maybe we do.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, the air around them heavy with the strange, wonderful reality of what had just happened. The twins suckled contentedly, the car now filled with the gentle sounds of their breathing and the occasional rustle of movement.

Max had never thought his life could still hold this kind of joy, this kind of raw, unfiltered connection. Not after the chaos and destruction he had brought into the world. But as he sat there, with his wife and their newborns, he realized that this—this strange, unconventional, messy moment—was everything he had ever needed.

Poppy shifted slightly in the seat, a tired but amused smirk on her lips. “Max,” she muttered, her voice hoarse but teasing, “you might want to tuck yourself back in. I don’t think the hospital’s ready for that much of you.”

Max blinked, glancing down at himself, his still-exposed cock, and laughed softly, the absurdity of it all hitting him. “Right, yeah, that might be a bit much.” He quickly tucked himself back into his pants, zipping up with a sheepish smile. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

But as soon as the moment of levity passed, Poppy let out a low groan, her hand flying to her belly as another contraction rippled through her. “Max… oh God, it’s not over,” she whispered, her face tightening in discomfort. “The afterbirth…”

Max’s pulse quickened, but this time, he wasn’t panicking. He moved with calm efficiency, carefully helping her shift her position in the seat. “I’ve got you,” he murmured softly, his hand gently supporting her back as she bore down again. Poppy’s breath came in short, labored gasps, her body expelling the afterbirth with far less intensity than before, but still enough to leave her trembling.

Max reached back to the go-bag in the backseat, pulling out clean towels. He worked quickly, wiping down her legs and carefully cleaning up the aftermath as much as he could in the small, cramped space. Birth fluids soaked the towels, and Max wrapped the afterbirth with steady hands, placing it aside before turning his attention to his wife and their newborns.

With tenderness and care, he grabbed the soft, baby-blue blankets from the go-bag, wrapping each of their newborn sons snugly. The twins squirmed a little but quickly settled into the warmth, content against Poppy’s chest as she cradled them.

Max glanced up at her, the weight of everything hitting him as he brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low and filled with concern.

Poppy smiled faintly, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. “Never been better…” she whispered, exhaustion evident in her words, but there was a softness there too.

He moved back into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life as he carefully pulled the car back onto the road. The world outside was quiet now, the chaos of their wild birth experience behind them, though the warmth and smell of it lingered in the small space of the car, but they didn’t care.

As they drove toward the hospital, Poppy stirred, glancing down at the two tiny bundles in her arms. “Alastair’s going to lose his mind,” she said softly, a tired but warm smile tugging at her lips. “He’s been waiting for this moment forever.”

Max smiled at the thought, his heart swelling. “He’s going to be the best big brother,” he murmured, pride flooding his chest.

218 notes · View notes

lyneira · 2 years ago

Text

♡ *doki doki* ♡

-> things that would make their heart beat a little bit faster

Seeing you smile

Itto, Diluc, Childe, Venti, Thoma

He absolutely loves seeing your face brighten up with a genuine smile. It has him subconsciously mirroring you, his face also turning aglow (even if it's in the most subtle way for someone like Diluc) And especially when you're smiling at him, that love grows tenfold and his own smile grows deeper. He can't help but be full of adoration for you upon seeing that lovely expression. More so when that beautiful smile forms into a laugh, oh his heart is soaring.

That's why he often makes it a point to make you smile whenever he sees you. Whether it's doing something kind for you, telling you a joke, or surprising you with a gift, he's going to find any possible way to make you smile. Your smile is just so precious to him as he knows how fleeting happy moments like these can be, despite how much he wishes they'd last forever.

So he will protect it with all his might, and God forbid someone ever makes that smile turn upside down.

Feeling your touch

Xiao, Tighnari, Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Gorou

Your touch soothes them, assures them, warms them. You needn't even give them a big hug. The moment they feel your skin on theirs, even if it's barely a ghost of a touch, they're folding. After all, I honestly don't these guys would be used to skinship even though it's what they'd secretly crave for the most.

He nearly holds his breath as he feels your fingertips gently caress his skin because if he were to let go, he'd be all over you. Each time you touched him, he'd desire more of that warmth. He wanted more of you. You, who would put his mind at rest and feeling your touch reassures them of that. You make him feel safe

Staring deeply into your eyes

Alhaitham, Zhongli, Kaeya, Cyno, Kaveh

There's an unspoken trust and connection when you two gaze into each other’s eyes that there is no need for words to let them know that you love them.

Your eyes say words that your lips cannot express to its full extent, and most of all, your eyes can never lie. That's why when you look into his eyes with so much love, he knows that it's true and it makes him feel warm. He's so happy that there's no denying you love him as much as he loves you.

Hearing your voice

Ayato, Heizou, Kazuha, Albedo, Baizhu

I feel like these people wouldn't like hearing a lot of noise, but on the contrary, I would think that they didn't mind listening to you.

Your voice is such a distinguishable part of you which makes it his favorite. There's no one else who has that same exact tone of voice, the same exact intonation you use, the same laugh that you have, and all of the other sounds you'd make. They love it so much because it could only belong to you. And when his name would come out of your mouth so sweetly? He'd swoon a bit each time.

Any sound from you meant it was a sound from his favorite person in all of Teyvat. So if he wasn't looking and didn't know you were coming to see him, the moment you call out his name, he'd immediately know it was you and he'd smile. His beloved was here.

a/n: this prompt is heavily inspired by one of the click and drag games I made a while ago on @deescade (hehe, shameless plug per usual). I haven't created a genshin one yet, but I currently have a twisted wonderland one and obey me one if y'all are interested!

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3cremepie3 · 7 months ago

Note

i couldn't find any rules so i was wondering a sebek smut fic with a male reader with the reader being a soft top. also can the kinks be praise(sebek receiving), hickies, rough, and any others you want to add.

can they also have a part with after care and when it hits morning sebek realises he is nearly late for training just for him to get up take a few steps then fall down.

also you shall call me cheese as i will be here more often

Yours

Synopsis - bottom Sebek x Male top reader ( smut + fluff 18+)

Warnings - anal sex, cum and stuff, unprotected sex, chocking, rough sex, teasing

A/n - thanks for the request this was challenging to write because I don’t write for male readers typically I hope I did well :)!!

“You good,” you asked. “Yes keep going,” he grunted. You followed his orders pushing yourself further into his warmth. You felt him clench around you once you hit the halfway mark. “Sebek you gotta relax for me okay? You’re doing so good baby.” You kissed up his neck sucking at the skin you already stained.

This served as a distraction so you could push yourself in all the way. “People are gonna see those Y/n!” He complained verbally but you knew he loved the feeling of being marked. He was possessive about the things he loved one of those being you.

“Gotta show others we’re together.” You kissed him in between talking sucking up the little amount of air he was huffing out. “I don’t want anyone stealing you from me,” you vowed. “Especially when we’re made for each other like this don’t you feel good?”

“Yes, I feel amazing.” He gasped rocking his hips back into yours. He had quickly gotten used to you remembering the shape of your cock that you had put in him many times before. “Wanna make you feel even better,” you confessed. One of your hands reached up to his nipples and the other to his cock that was spilling out his jockstrap.

You freed his dick getting a view of the pre that was smearing the fabric. You thrust into him faster watching it swing back and forth from the friction. It slapped against his abs leaving a glistening you would lick up later.

“Touch me please,” he pleaded. You did so sliding your hand on him up and down until your hand became wet. “You’re always so leaky,” you noted. “Don’t say things like that out loud it’s embarrassing.” You laughed you always loved how quiet he was compared to his normal voice that boomed over yours.

“Why don’t you speak up? No need to be quiet now no one’s here?” You watched as Sebek struggled to form even one word. His tongue was being gripped by his fangs. You couldn’t just let him be quiet when you were making so much noise it was embarrassing.

"Have nothing to say?" You questioned pausing all your movements. "Continue at once," Sebek demanded. "Only if you speak up." You looked at him while your hand glided over his tip. He was growing frustrated and attempted to move on his own. But you pulled out not allowing him to get his way.

"You humans," he huffed. You watched him gape around nothing. "Fine... please fuck me." He asked his hands cupping his face. "As you wish," You laughed. The bed creaked violently into the wall as you trusted inside of him. His hands gripped your forearms. You collapsed on top of him unlike Sebek you didn't have unlimited stamina.

"Ha pathetic human is that all you got?" Mocking me when you were just the whiny one? You alligators have such audacity," you scoffed. "Guess I gotta make you Whiny again." You tightened the grip on his hips and pulled him closer into you balls deep.

You watched his pupils dilate with the stretch. His hand went to grab your side. You swatted the weak attempt away and continued to plow into him. His ass recoiled into your hips creating a loud clapping rhythm. The sound of your love song would have a fast beat.

Sebek grabbed a pillow trying to stabilize his body. He couldn't grab you unless he wanted to end up like his very own hips brutalized. His eyes clasped themselves shut saving the tears that threatened to spill. He couldn't help but moan out as you gave him your all.

"Hurts too fast," He explained. "You like a challenge come on you can take it slut." He groaned at your harsh tongue against his nipples. He knew he was sure to be sore later as you had him folded into a mating press he would never dare to get out of.

You looked down at the sight amazed to see that he had quietly come. "I only touched you for a minute," you chuckled. "Yes, but it felt good." He basically whispers his words too ashamed to utter praise any louder. "God I love you," You sighed. Your hand went to his neck holding him in place as you rammed into that spot.

You felt his sticky cum on your stomach as you slid in and out. "So messy that's my baby." You tightened your grip on his neck. "Wanna mark you real good. How about my handprint as a temporary tattoo." Sebek couldn't answer you but you figured it out for him leaving bruising as you let yourself go inside of him.

You collapsed obviously spent from your moment of rage. You let go of his neck instantly realizing what you had done. Sebek took huge breaths trying to regain his composure. "Sorry baby oh my god," you gasped."It's just when you talk about humans something snaps in me," you explained.

"Enough if you want to make up for your erratic behavior then take care of your mess at least." Soon you and Sebek headed to your bathroom Ramshakles old school interior came in handy when it came to tubs. They were huge and could easily fit you and your muscular boyfriend.

You sat behind him admiring the mess you made of his neck. It was dark purple and red littered with hickies. "All these bite marks make me think you're secretly a vampire fae. You rubbed his shoulder blades inwards until you got to his neck. "What's your deal," he pouted. "My deal is my boyfriend that I just want to show off." Why not let everyone else know that we are not available and won't be anytime soon."

The next morning

After a relaxing evening, the both of you feel asleep like a semi-truck had hit you. In doing so you must've not set your alarms. Grim who always naturally woke up late banged your dorm practically off its hinges.

Sebek awakens in a frenzy. "Oh no I'm late for practice," he yelled. He scared your half-asleep body as he jumped out of bed just to fall to the ground. He grunted in pain holding his swollen body. You looked down a slight smirk on your face.

"I dont think you can go to practice today." And whos fault is that," he yelled.

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justkending · 8 months ago

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 6/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I have only read through this once, but I plan on revising it this afternoon, so please excuse any mistakes! The next chapter will be the last, and I'm so glad you guys have enjoyed it up to this point :) You all are the best! (Also, I tried fixing as many of the tags as I could, but if it's still acting weird, please message me or send an ask!)

_________

Chapter 6:

“Shit, you have a mean right hook, but you kinda have to hit the target for it to have the impact you want!” I pant as I move just seconds before Bethanne makes contact with the wall behind me. “You learn that in pilates? Maybe I should take it up.”

Reg let out a frustrated grunt from the room over where Bucky was now ducking and weaving out of angry, calculated swings.

In assessing my opponent's fighting patterns, I sense Bethanne going in for another swing. Grabbing the picture frame off the wall, I bash it into her head, where she teeters and falls back, discombobulated enough for me to move to help Bucky.

“I should have known better than to trust you two,” Reggie grunts as he gets a slight jump on Bucky, shouldering him and taking him to the ground. “Especially you’re bitch of a fake wife-”

I go to handle the comment for myself and help Bucky, but something about the slur triggers him to handle the situation on his own, and the next thing I know, he’s now on top of Reggie and twisting his arms in a way that causes a wale in pain to follow.

“That’s not how you speak about a lady,” he grits through his teeth and winds back to swing.

At the same moment, with my attention elsewhere, Bethanne comes from behind me with a piece of glass from the picture frame -that didn’t do the job I’d hoped- and slices deeply in the back of my arm, getting a scream and hiss from me.

She’s seething when I turn around, her own hand dripping blood on their pristine white carpet from the clamp she has on it, ready to give another slash when the opportunity presents itself.

I hear Bucky shout my name, distracted by my injury, and then catch a glimpse of the tussle that breaks back out between the two men. One problem at a time.

Holding the back of my arm, feeling the blood leave my body faster than I expected, I twist my head to the side at the blonde. I learned the intimidation tactic from Wanda, and when I say it works, it works…

Bethanne’s crass smile falls, and she is smart enough to take a few steps back.

“I’m not a gentleman, so I won’t hold my tongue, bitch,” I add emphasis on the name and start walking to her with my head down and eyes glaring at her. Instantly, she turns on her heel and runs to another room, where I pick up my speed and follow her.

I get my foot in between the doorframe before she has the chance to shut it, and dear God, I wish I had my Doc Martens right now to kick the damn thing down. I shove my shoulder into it, and she stumbles back for a lamp in the bedroom we were in now.

Not well calculated, she throws a small one, and I dodge it as it slams into the door behind me.

“Come on, Bethanne. All those sole cycles and bare classes, and you don’t want to see if those muscles work? Throw a hit like a woman. Let’s make this more interesting,” I move to a fighting stance and ignore the sting on my arm, knowing I have fleeting moments of adrenaline before the blood loss catches up.

“You’re just mad you got caught,” she spits out, and I mean literally spits out. The saliva would have hit my foot if she wasn’t such a sissy. “You think we didn’t catch on from the second bug you destroyed? Pretty fucking obvious if you ask me.”

I could hear more pieces of furniture breaking off in the other room and realized that maybe this chit-chat needed to end.

“Sure. Let’s go with you guys figuring it out sooner. If that makes you feel better about all this,” I shrug, rolling my eyes and stepping in to move this party along.

____________

The night before. Bucky’s POV:

Due to the wire in the bathroom, which neither Y/N nor I wanted to deal with, I had to shift my nighttime bathroom routine to the master’s.

Like any normal master bath, there were two sinks, and I stationed myself at the one Y/N hadn’t. For the first time since coming to this place, we actually felt like a couple as we both got situated on our side of the counter and started doing our nightly regime.

“How intense of a wire do you think it is?” she asked quietly after washing her face and dapping the water off her skin with a clean towel.

The doors to the bathroom and her room were both closed, creating a barrier to the others.

“I think we’re safe to talk in here,” I answered, rinsing my toothbrush I’d just used and throwing it into the travel bag I had.

“Ok, so I can ask freely, how much longer do you think this mission is going to take?” she sighs, opening the cabinet in front of her, taking out three cosmetic vials, and putting them in a practiced order in front of her.

“Huh?” I let slip, and she turned to me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Huh, what?”

I shake out of my disbelief and look at her clean and noticeably smooth face. A subtle scar next to her eyebrow being the only form of imperfection by societal rules, but I wouldn’t call it that.

“I didn’t think you were a,” I paused, not sure what to call what I was seeing. I just saw her as someone who would splash some water on her face at the night's end and call it a day. Then again, I didn’t know enough about face creams and serums I’ve seen Nat and Wanda use.

“A clean person?” she finishes my sentence with a harsh laugh as she brings out a spray bottle with a maroon liquid in it from another cabinet, spritz her face three times and pats it in with her hand.

“Don’t think that’s the word I was looking for,” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair and fidgeting as I feel her gaze shift to me.

“Not a face washer and 20 ageless serums kind of guy?” she hums, rubbing a green goop in her hands before all over your face. “Well, not all of us are aging at the rate of paint drying. Some of us have to put in effort to look this good.”

I smirk at that because I don’t think she realizes what she just said.

“You say I’m effortlessly handsome?” I grin, turning and resting my back on the counter as I watch her.

She can’t seem to help her own smile and bites her lip as she fans her face, grabbing another small dropper bottle.

“You know what? Don’t even try and pretend you don’t know you’re a pretty face,” she blushes and tries to backtrack. “God. Can you believe the difference this conversation would have been just two hours ago? And now I’m here calling you pretty.”

“I’m not complaining.” The grin on my face hurts with how authentic it is. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think Reggie would steal you away as his wife if I weren’t already attached to you.”

“Ah, yes. The testosterone battle that took place tonight. Glad you brought that up,” she nods, placing the finished bottles back in the cabinet and adding the last serum to her face. Her skin had a nice glow after the magic treatments. “I knew men lay their claim, but you seemed more intense than I’d imagined you’d be about that kind of stuff.”

“He was undressing you with his eyes,” I said sternly, compared to the easy-going tone we had stuck to. “He needed to be set straight acting like that.” My arms crossed as I watched her unbothered by the conversation piece.

“And you, acting like a lion ready to bite the head off of him while trying to get on their good side, was the way to counter that behavior?”

“I wasn’t that intimidating.”

“You’re James Buchanan Barnes. You don’t have to put on an act to be intimidating. Therefore, when you put on any protective act, the intimidation act just multiplies.” She deadpans to me.

Ok, maybe she was right… I was a little more invasive into her space this evening, but it was to prove a point.

“I was doing my job,” I shrug, stepping closer, picking up her skincare bottle, and examining it.

“You played the annoyed and jealous husband very well. I’ll make sure your nomination for a Tony Award is submitted.”

I shake my head, handing her the bottle she places precisely in the cabinet.

“Are you a neat freak?” I ask, and she turns to me, pulling her hair out of the ponytail she had put in to wash her face.

“I’m not anal if that’s what you think? I prefer things to be organized where it’s helpful.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what a neat freak would say…”

“Says the man who organized the spices alphabetically and sorts the coffee pods by color.” She tidies her space, wiping any water with a washcloth, and turns out of the room, flipping the light switch with me still in there.

“When you’re cooking, it makes things easier to find. That’s just common sense. And the color thing? Well, it’s aesthetically pleasing,” I debate, following her on her heel.

“Sure thing, neat freak…” she laughs, going to her side of the bed and getting her nightstand prepared for the night.

I watch her, and she doesn’t seem to mind as I silently catalog her ritual. When she finally gets things settled and looks at me, waiting for a reason for why I’m still in her room, I stumble over my words.

“You’re question earlier.” Considering the life mic in the room across the hall, I have to be careful in choosing my words. “Maybe this suburban life isn’t as bad as we thought it was. It is a nice break from our former day-to-day.”

She nods, pulling back the covers of her bed and rubs lotion from her bedside into her palms.

“There are some aspects I’ve come to like,” she smiles genuinely.

“Agreed.”

____________

Present Time

In seconds, Bethanne was unconscious and lying on the ground with a curtain cord binding her on the ground. She’d be occupied enough for me to help Bucky restrain his opponent and come back to move her after.

I held the back of my arm, which was still oozing blood. The dizziness was slowly creeping up on me, but I tapped into the reserve of adrenaline to assess the chaos in front of me.

Lucky for Bucky, he was holding his own well enough even if his opponent was double his size (but are we shocked? No.), so I moved to the kitchen for a weapon, considering we didn’t have time to prepare before this fight broke out.

For context, this all started with me coming over here to meet Bethanne for a yoga class she had invited me to this morning. Bucky just happened to be heading home earlier from "work," given that he actually had nothing to do.

Lucky for me because Bethanne had used the excuse of yoga to corner me, and Reggie happened to be home to help, too.

I had played into their casualness to start, feeling the energy off and their disposition askew, and tried to stall for a while, knowing it would be a better fight with my partner nearby. I texted Bucky to meet me at their place with an excuse, and by the time he got there (5 minutes later), the fight broke out, and all curtains were pulled back to reveal the truth.

“Barnes!” I shout, and his head pops up from his position, trying to disengage Reggie. I throw the knife I got a hold of from across the room, and he spins, turning the giant perfectly to where the knife embeds itself in the front of his thigh.

A yell in pain sounds, and Bucky turns to hold his head in a lock that eventually makes Reggie pass out.

Silence takes over the space. The only sound is our panting as he looks at the damage and sees the end of our mission come to a close. Whether intentional or not…

“So, that was fun. Glad we got some cardio in,” I huff, pulling my arm closer to my body and putting pressure on the cut.

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky runs a hand through his hair and walks to me. “Where’d she get you?”

His hands are gentle and light compared to how he’d been using them the last few minutes. He turns me to the side, using my shoulder as leverage, and bends to look at the gash on my arm right above the back of my elbow. I had been wearing a dry-fit running jacket that clung to me, so the damage wasn’t 100% visible, I’m sure, but the hiss he lets out when he sees it leads me to believe otherwise.

“How’s it look, Doc?” I ask and wince with a sharp breath when he pokes at it. “Dude. Jagged glass cut. Careful.”

“Just moved the fabric,” he grumbles, still examining it. In front of us, Reggie groans. We both look at him.

“We can play operation in a minute. Let’s tie the big guy up, and you can help me get Raggedy Bethanne from the other room in here to interrogate,” I push past his shoulder as I move to get Reggie situated.

Begrudgingly, Bucky helped me move the sleeping giant and we shut all the blinds and set the space for a controlled interrogation.

Currently, Bucky is on the phone with Steve, letting him know the plan went awry. We were working on getting information while we waited for a team to come collect the two perpetrators. Steve confirmed he’d send undercover agents as cops for us to wrap up the loose ends.

In the middle of the call, someone knocks on the door, and we share a look. I’m still covered in blood, but I find a painter's poncho on the side, throw it on quickly, and grab a used paintbrush in the convenient tray next to it.

“One second!” I shout, making a few marks on the poncho and one on my face for show. I go to open the door, praying I don’t have any blood on my face, but I did well in keeping away from Bethanne’s pathetic attempts of retaliation.

When I open the door, I see their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Nosy-Nancy Betrum, smiling wearily in front of me.

“Oh, hello, Charlotte,” she says nervously, trying to peer into the house around me. “Is Bethanne in there?”

“Oh,” I perk up casually, turning behind me for a second and looking back at her. “She just ran to the bathroom. Is everything ok?”

“I just heard some shouting and crashing and wasn’t sure what was going on,” she started, still trying to peak into the background that I’m mostly hiding, so I moved a little to show the not-as-destroyed part of the house.

“Oh, she’s doing a kitchen renovation and asked if we could help since we have some experience ourselves. The boys are hauling and dismantling some things. Lots of grunting and noise, I’m afraid,” I cringe lightly to play into the apologetic side of the conversation. “I’ll let her know we’re being too loud.”

“Oh, ok,” she nodded, seemingly convinced but still glancing in.

“Char, can you come help me and Reggie with this?” Bucky shouts, and I turn to look at him as he gives me an out.

“Sorry about the noise, Nancy. We’ll try to be considerate about it. One sec, honey!” I nod back. “See you for Wednesday book club at Katrina’s next week.” I give an award-winning smile, and that seems to seal the deal.

“Let me know how the finished project comes out,” she waves, walking down the steps.

After I shut the door, I groan as the pain in the back of my arm throbs more and more.

“I’ll get Beth,” Bucky stands up from where he has successfully tied up Reggie and anchored him to a chair. “You go find a clean cloth and put some pressure on that,” he points out my arm that’s smearing red into the white paint I had tried to hide it with.

“Good plan,” I nod, hissing as I move to the kitchen to make a makeshift tourniquet.

_____________

The mission was done. I could sleep in my own bed now. My arm hurt like hell, and I was dreading the unfortunate aftercare and restrictions to come, but the mission was over, and I was headed home.

After we got Bethanne and Reginald situated, the interrogation started, and they squealed like pigs. Well, Bethanne did, but Reggie didn’t hold out like he thought he would after some convincing with Bucky’s form of torture. Restrained if you ask me…

We had a list of other names to hunt and find. We found solid evidence in their home to prove most of it. Steve and Nat were given puzzle pieces that we had come for originally, so we were on the right path of taking down the organization Fury had been hunting.

Things worked out for the better, even with the fact that they had successfully hidden a bug, and we were discovered. But there was a reason Bucky and I were picked for this, and we proved that.

“What’s the diagnosis?” Bucky asked, coming into the med-bay I had been stationed in for the last hour on the Quinjet home.

“I won’t need a robotic arm, unfortunately. I’ll have to wait a little longer before I can join your one-man club,” I sigh depressingly before I quirk a smile at him.

“Wouldn’t be a one-man club if you joined it, now would it?” he laughed, sitting on the bed next to me where the nurse finished the stitches and wrapped a clean gauze bandage around it.

“Thank you.” I nodded her way as she grabbed her things and walked out quietly.

“Gonna be a minute before you back out in the ring, huh?” he asked, bumping my shoulder. “Sam hasn’t been proving to be the best dueling partner. Maybe since you won’t try to kill me now, you can take up the title? I feel like you’d be a decent match.”

I turn to him after picking at my bandage and eye him. “Who says I wouldn’t try to kill you still? What’s the good of training if you’re not practicing the real thing?”

He rolls his eyes and spreads his legs a little more, causing his knee to bump into mine.

“I don’t think you’ll be up for the killing portion of our fights for a bit, so I’ll take the advantage as long as possible.”

“You think a little scratch like this has held me back from killing before?” He laughed under his breath, and we sat in comfortable silence for a minute. “The team isn’t going to believe I no longer have a vendetta against you,” I whisper. “They’re going to think we’re putting on an act.”

Bucky’s POV:

“I, for one, prefer the nicety over the insults, but that’s me personally,” I say, noticing the nerves in her comment.

“I’m going to miss insulting you,” she sighs heavily, and I’m shocked at her closing in the space enough for our shoulders to touch. “I don’t have to give it up fully, do I?”

I take her attempt of trying to lighten the mood and nod.

“Considering the team is going to give us hell for it, and Steve has a bet we’ll make up in 3-weeks-”

“Wait, make up? I thought the bet was how long until we bite each other’s heads off.”

“Nat’s bet is. She gave it until tomorrow actually. Steve was rooting for us I guess,” I shrug.

“Hmmm,” she nods her head as she thinks things through. I’ve seen that look many times. “What if we messed with them?”

“Channel our energy into keeping the charade going a little longer so neither wins?”

“You really shouldn’t be betting on your friends,” she grins mischievously.

“I’m always down for winning a second time this week,” I smile back.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter1 @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @billyseye @hallecarey1

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @julvrs @mostlymarvelgirl @heletsmelovehim @learisa @bubblegumbeautyqueen @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321

#mr. & mrs. hunt #mr & mrs hunt #avenger reader insert #justkending #marvel reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader insert #bucky barnes mini series #bucky mini series #marvel mini series #bucky barnes x avenger reader

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