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st4rbwrry · 13 hours

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𝒩𝒪𝒪𝒦𝐼𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: getou isn’t fond of the new gardener you hired who’s clearly flirting with you when he’s not home.

warnings ౨ৎ 2.7k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, cunninglingus/face riding, cottage core au? + getou’s a farmer, missionary in da kitchen, praising ofc, exhibitionism, jealousy, possessiveness, getou’s kinda rude, sub / dom dynamic, established relationship, rough play, m oral, impact play, unprotected, pet names ex. [ baby, sweetheart ], minors aren’t welcomed! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

getou doesn’t appreciate that you aren’t greeting him with his usual kisses after you raise on your tippy toes to smooch him after he comes home from a long day of churning butter and tending to livestock. it doesn’t make him happy to know that you’re not tending to his attention and rather giving it to another man after he strolls through your large kitchen, that he built for you, to head into the back of your farmhouse to find you giggling and conversing with the new gardener. a gardener that you personally hired that he had yet to meet.

he could smell the pan of shepherds pie and cornbread in the oven, ignoring the way his stomach growls hungrily and it quickly being consumed with irritation. you’re wearing your cute pink apron with tiny patterns of sunflowers and bunnies as you hold a woven basket of freshly picked strawberries the man before you tossed into. having a conversation about fucking strawberries. he didn’t expect this man to be. . . of your type. tall, nice smile, good hair, makes you laugh a little too fucking hard. what about fruits could possibly be so fucking funny, [♡]?

“what a surprise,” getou’s voice is laced with annoyance, deep and causing the two to go silent as he makes his way down the steps to stand directly next to you. you blink, knowing your husband very well and easily you could tell he’s off.

“hi, baby! this is matteo, he’s our new gardener! we were talking a lot about the new setup i plan on having!” the smile on your face is pure, looking back and forth between getou and your gardener. “he just started today.”

“hey, man. nice to meet you. your wife told me all about you,” matteo remains professional, extending his hand for a handshake. you roll your lips in, waiting for your husband to comply with respect. it’s silent as you stare between both men, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise from anxiousness.

“mhm,” is all getou can say, matteo taken aback by his approach. it’s extremely rude, and you blink excessively to keep your composure. taking a deep breath, you form a tight lipped smile towards your gardener.

“excuse me for a moment,” you speak, side eyeing getou before pulling him to the side, matteo continuing his job by picking juicy fruits from their stems.

“what’s your deal? that was fucking rude,” you denounce, gawking up at him with a raised brow. getou folds his bulky arms, not understanding how you’re acting dumb right now. you knew this would piss him off.

getou leans down to get closer to you, lips inches from your ear. “who told you to hire somebody like this?"

"hire somebody like what?" the man retaliates, overhearing getou’s weak attempt of whispering to you, taking offense. regardless, he spoke on his name when he was right there.

getou turns his face only an inch or so, barely giving the man full attention. you swallow, his face nearly touching your own possessively, like an animal protecting it’s mate. getou then switches his eyes fully, intensely staring at the man. "like someone she'd fuck."

his immature response causes you to step away from him with a look of disgust, brows pinched with anger. you couldn’t believe his mouth. you’re not sure what the fuck’s gotten into him, but it wasn’t cute. quite frankly, he looked stupid.

“you’re making a fucking fool of yourself,” you spat, eyes burning. knocking your head back in the sweet gardeners direction, you hold your hand over your heart apologetically. “i am truly sorry for my husband’s rudeness. please forgive me for this, but i think it’s best if you go. i will give you a call tomorrow. i’m sorry again.”

the man nods only once, keeping his focus solely on you, not even bothering to glance in your husband’s direction. his possessiveness a black cloud over the party. “it’s not a problem at all. have a great rest of your day, ma’am.”

the minute your gardener is out of view, that’s when you give getou an irritated snarl, looking him up and down as if the man had no shame. which he didn’t, and that was the problem. “what is wrong with you?!”

getou intakes air as you strut away angrily, heading back into your kitchen to adapt into the ignoring him bubble and completely tuning into your dinner prepping. since you have freshly picked strawberries, you decided to start a mixture for muffins you could sell to the neighborhood tomorrow morning. a festival was being held at the ranch a few blocks down, already promising a few ladies you’d whip something up sweet.

getou follows behind, studying as you huff and puff to yourself while gathering eggs, milk and other things you needed.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“because it’s fucking stupid. why’d i hire someone to help me out? oh my god, such a mystery.”

“you’re being immature.”

that causes you to stop all movements. holding onto the edges of the island and staring at him with disbelief, mouth actually drawn open as you scoff. “i’m immature? because you didn’t just disrespect that man for no reason. you know him or sum?”

“don’t act slow. you hired that man ‘cause he’s someone you can eye fuck when i’m not home. don’t pretend you don’t find him attractive,” getou grits his teeth.

you roll your eyes. “ohh, so it’s jealousy! why would i want to cheat on someone i’m in love with? you’re being extremely distrustful. take that shit out of my kitchen, suguru.”

“say that again,” he’s approaching you now, getou observing as you cross your arms and pretend to be unfazed by how much bigger he was compared to you. his bare feet thumps along the floor as he nears you, hands in the pockets of his dark washed jeans, shoulders broad as he stared down at you darkly. now your body’s pressed up against the kitchen counter, turning your head the opposite way to avoid eye contact.

“suguru,” you stand on what you say, uncaring. your husband deviously grins.

getou kisses his teeth smugly. you practically moan when his hand grips your jaw to bring your attention back, fingers denting into your cheeks to make your lips pout, head tilted back. “watch that mouth of yours. there’s no need to be bratty.”

teeth sinks into your lips he gawks at for a split second before meeting your eyes again. a feeble noise comes from you as he swiftly pulls up your white sundress, hands on the backs of your thighs to spread you open, fingers pulling your pussy open. not surprised to see you weren't wearing underwear. really, that pisses him off even further. it’s windy out and you were engaging in conversation with that man knowing your pussy was bare. he wants to laugh, seeing how wet you are already. fucking nympho. even though you’re mad, you can’t ignore how hot his touch makes you. you gulp, holding onto the edge of the counter as your gut flips after he crouched on one knee.

his breath hits your clit, and instantly your thighs tremble, getou slowly sticking his tongue out his mouth, wide, long, and slick with saliva. it hovers over your clit, barely touching it. part of you wants to grab his hair and shove him down, but the look in his eyes says not to try it. his fingers come up to your face, extending two of the long digits inside of your mouth. you suck obediently, moaning around them while rolling forward towards his, aching for it. his free hand smacks your inner thigh causing you to release his fingers and whimper, getou wasting zero time and curling them deep into you, shaking them frivolously as his lips suction on your clit, kissing your pussy deeply, using so much saliva.

his stare is hard on you the entire time, wrist moving instantaneously as he fucks you with them. he’s having a ball watching you wither and roll your hips, squealing and raising your thighs higher to your chest, listening to his fingers slam into you, that gushing sound of your pussy coating his fingers.

 "c-can’t. . .”

 "shut up," briskly, he pulls his fingers out and spanks your clit with them, standing to his feet, towering over you. you rest your head back against the wall by the window, shifting your body since your ass hurt a little from being on a granite countertop.

 most of his words are blocked out as you watch the sexually pent-up man drag his pants down until they sit at his waist, pussy clenching at the dark pubic hairs sticking out, lust in your eyes as his veiny, big hand fists his cock. the thick vein leading up to the crown leaking precum makes you smile hazily.

 "look at me when i’m talking to you."

 you're too fucking mesmerized by him. his slightly dirty white tshirt is hiked up now, godly sculpted abs enticing you to run your fingers over them with a giddy laugh. getou tilts his head to the side, clenching his jaw.

 "hey," he calls to you, snapping his fingers twice in your face, voice deeper than usual. you can see that he's not up for bullshit. he’s arched over you, hair sticking to his forehead as he places his right hand on your lower back, arching into him until your chest presses against his. "listen to me when i talk to you, woman.”

 the smell of his skin is intoxicating, reaching your hands behind him to claw at his ass, open mouth on his chin, moaning as he slides deep into you, looking down at you with a groan escaping his throat, furrowing his thick brows. getou tries not to lose it, because despite his frustration, there's no way he could deny just how fucking good you felt pulling him deep right now. you hold tight, eyes hazy as he pounds into you without another word, arm stretching over to press his palm on the cabinet above, balancing himself and dragging you to meet him thrust for thrust.

 "pussy so needy for me. it fuckin’ better be,” please shut up, is what you think. his voice is too damn addictive, and the way he fucks you, virulently, like he fucking despised you . . . you didn't know if you could take much more. the other half of your brain is the opposite, thanking him over and over.

 "oh, look, princess. there’s your favorite man,” it doesn't register that the two of you are legit fucking near an open window where anyone could see. “let’s say hi, baby."

 unsure why he came back, it only takes ten seconds for your sweet gardener to immediately be swept with trauma, catching a glimpse at the two of you, getou’s dark eyes burning into him while yours are shut to hide the embarrassment, stomach still flipping with rouse. his fingers has your jaw locked still to keep your fucked out face in the direction of the man who’s nothing short of unimpressed. tasteless, he thinks. wasting no time and turning away to hop back inside of his truck, only coming because he forgot to give you back the key to your garage. his lips are by your ear now. "looks like we’ll have to hire someone else.”

 "you’re s-so . . . mean,” it’s the only thing you can think of, trembling and yanking your face out of his grasp. you wanna say you hate him, but deep down you knew this is what you've been craving all along. he’s exactly how you wanted him to be; lecherous. "fuck, can’t stand you.”

 "you love me, sweetheart,” he coed, you hiccup. sobbing as he throws one of your legs over his arm, angling his hips slightly to the right and hitting into you faster, rolling your neck back, listening to how viscous his skin claps with your own, and his breath fans over your face.

 "awe," he pouts, giving your forehead a chaste kiss. "y‘not gonna say it back?”

“d’nt deserve it,” you’re slurring your words and it pisses you off how dumb he makes you. his hand is around your neck now, choking you until you feel the blood rushing to your skull, luring the back of your own hand to your lips, using it as some sort of blockage for how loud you were being. louder than usual.

 inching his lips towards yours, he studies how desperate you are to latch your lips with his, only for him to snatch them away. “then you don’t deserve my kiss.”

a frustrated whine leaves your throat, getou humming tauntingly, delicately skimming his bitten red lips over yours with a moan following along with a whispered ‘no’. tightening his lock around your neck, he rolls his hips deeper, your hand clutching his wrist with tears in your eyes. “not until you tell me you love me.”

 you gently sink your teeth into the back of your hand, getou leaning closer before sloppily kissing at your palm where your lips rested, an evil stare painted his expression. he sucks, licks, and moans on your hand, knowing you were wishing he'd do that to your mouth instead. fuck, that was enough to get you to the breaking point. thighs trembling as you drop your mouth open, nothing coming out.

 "wait, are you gonna cum?" his mouth upturns as he widens his eyes and mouth with fake surprise. "you’re cumming, aren't you? don’t cum. if you cum, i’ll stop."

 "suguru, fucking stop—"

 "stop what, huh? why you talkin' back?" shoving his thumb in your mouth, he fucks you harder, body jolting as your eyes roll back and your mouth drools, clutching his wrist harder to keep him there. "weren't you gonna cum?"

 "yessss!" you wail, tears falling down your eyes. that coil in the pit of your stomach is ready to snap, getou’s sadistic voice ringing in your ears as he praises you, hips ramming harder to get you to break, clutching the back of his neck and screaming into his chest, giving him the answer he wants, riding the wave. "love you. love you.”

“good girl, good girl,” he proceeds to fuck you through it, just enough until you're pushing at his stomach to stop, kissing up the side of his neck drunkenly. getou slides out of you, holding back a moan before he's grabbing your hand and pulling you off the counter, holding your waist so you don't fall over.

 "knees, now."

 you're more than happy to lower to your knees, already knowing what to prepare for, lulled, teary eyes focusing on him and the slick coated cock stretching over your face. you hold onto the back of his thighs, widening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, getou holding your head still before gliding his dick inside the cave of heat now inundating him, jaw dropping, using the other hand to hold the cabinet once more and mercilessly fucking your throat. his moans are coarse, grunting and throwing his head back, hips stuttering as he holds you still and shoots deep in your mouth, cursing thousands of times he nearly filled the dictionary.

 "swallow it and show me," and you do, without hesitation, sticking your tongue out proudly and it makes getou even prouder. "that’s my girl."

 "whatever," you wipe the side of your mouth, getou lifting you off the floor, legs still too weak to function.

“there’s that mouth again, sweetheart. cut it short before i fuck you harder,” oh, he’s serious. that darkness in his eyes telling you not to try it again.

“s-sorry, baby. love you,” you give him those pretty doe eyes he falls weak to, rubbing your hands over his waist while placing your chin on his chest. batting your lashes innocently.

getou hums. “tell me that after you get rid of that fuckin’ gardener.”

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ovaryacted · 21 hours

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HANDSY

PAIRING: Jackson! Joel Miller x afab! reader

SYNOPSIS: Your cycle is ruining your mood, and what better thing to do than get a free massage.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Suggestive content. Titty massage. Slight daddy kink. Established relationship. Joel being a little bastard. Ambiguous age gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in their 20s). Mentions of menstrual cycle and female characteristics about the chest. Banter and teasing. No use of y/n.

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Alright, I'm kinda on a Joel Miller streak and I was just thinking about getting my tiddies rubbed by a man with strong & rough hands and this happened. Don't look at me like that okay, this is self indulgent and I just had to alright. Hopefully this is relatable for some of y'all lol. Shout out to everyone who has to deal with periods, you are stronger than the marines. Anyways, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

➣ TLOU was created by a zionist and is based off of the Israeli occupation of Palestine. Please refer to this link to learn how you can help the Palestinian people.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

Another month. Another week of unruly irritation, mood swings, and uncomfortable reactions to anything that breathed too hard or moved too fast. In the hecticness that was your current reality, dealing with the devil’s wrath was supposed to be something that slipped past your mind. Yet, in the efforts of your survival, having a menstrual cycle still took you off guard every time it came punching through your gut.

Tossing and turning in bed, you tried to get in the best position to ease your cramps by curling up in a fetal position. You thought it would make things better, but instead, the discomfort you felt all over your body pissed you off even more. A frustrated grumble filled the bedroom, flinging the sheets away and furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of relief.

Where the fuck is he?

Throwing on a pair of slippers you luckily claimed on a supply run, you shuffled down the creaky stairs of your home and wandered about until you reached the living room. Joel was hunched over his seat on the couch, currently messing with his guitar strings, aware of your presence the moment you hit the base of the stairway.

“Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” He questioned you as he took in your features and noticed your pout. You were upset; that was obvious when he found you in bed earlier today instead of somewhere else in the house. Simply kissing your forehead and letting you rest as best as he could, he expected you to come down to talk to him eventually when you had the energy to do so.

Joel didn’t say anything as you came closer to him without uttering a word, slipping your legs over his thick thighs and pressing your face into the curve of his neck. He put his guitar to the side and wrapped his strong arms around your waist, hands instinctively digging into your lower back where you felt the most sore. He could tell from the way you clung to him that it was that time of the month, already having gotten used to your changes in demeanor to see the signs.

“Uncomfortable?” Joel asked again, trying to get a better read on your emotions, but he only received an annoyed grunt in response. “Guess we’re just gonna sit here then.”

He ran his fingers up and down your spine, trying his best to lessen the strain you felt. He could snag some herbs to make you tea later if you were in the mood for it, but right now, a massage is what you could handle. His touch made you sigh with alleviation, focusing on the pressure points along your shoulder and backbone. Even with his attempts, the front of your body continued to ache.

“My boobs are fucking killing me.” You declared out loud, a deep rumble of a chuckle escaping from the back of his throat.

“You need me to massage them?” Joel offered, and his intention of doing that was purely to make you feel better. Though, you couldn’t ignore the slight flutter in your belly at the idea of having his hands elsewhere.

Giving him a nod, you sat straighter on his lap, holding his gaze as he slipped his hands underneath the flannel you wore and made a beeline for your chest. Joel didn’t flinch at the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, being told once or twice how freeing it was not to have to deal with the constant friction of clothes against your heated skin.

He palmed both of your breasts and squeezed, his grip just strong enough to calm the throbbing of the swelling from your change in hormones. Your eyes closed as you focused on his touch, allowing Joel to do whatever he wanted with you, what he knew best.

“Feelin’ better?” You heard him ask, humming out in reply. He grinned at your reaction, the hum sounding close to a purr as he pawed at your chest.

Taking his hands out from underneath your—his shirt, you whined, a smirk tugging at the corners of Joel’s lips. Lifting the top of the flannel to rest on your collarbone, his attention went back to your breasts, looking at them with a mix of desire and affectionate pity.

“Poor baby. Hormones got my girl all cranky and upset.” He said, placing a soft kiss on the top of each breast before handling your body once more. You don’t know whether or not he was deliberately teasing you when you were the most vulnerable, but just hearing his voice was doing wonders to soothe your nerves.

You’ve always been fascinated with Joel’s hands since you met him, watching how he’d hold the handle of his gun or insert ammo into the magazine before reloading. His palms were rough, and his fingers were rougher, representing a man who’s lived a long life, who’s done unspeakable things to survive and get to this point. To most, they’d dislike the feeling of having so much of a contrast, but to you, the difference of his skin against yours was almost euphoric.

Joel squeezed with more purpose, focusing on tightening his grasp along the sides where the pain was the most prominent. One harsh thumb came to stroke at your sensitive nipple in gentle circles, pulling a breathless moan from between your lips. The smile on his face widened when his ears picked up the sound, moving to do a combination of deliberate squeezes and circles on the exposed nubs.

The warmth of his touch morphed into something else, need coiling in your stomach and clawing up your throat. As discretely as you could, your hips shifted further into his, craving much more than what he was giving you. Joel couldn’t help himself and brought you closer to him, grinding his hips up into yours. That got your attention, looking into his hazel eyes to find his pupils narrowly dilated.

“If you need me to rub somethin’ else, I can.” Despite the years worn on his face, he still had a certain boyish charm that jerked at your heartstrings when he flirted with you. Or, maybe it was just his southern gentleman persona, ever so willing to tend to your needs no matter what they may be.

“You’re annoying.” You mumbled to him, stubbornly refusing to outright beg for his affection, regardless of how badly you craved it.

“And you’re moody.” Joel kissed you tenderly, drawing away and snickering when you leaned forward to chase his lips for another.

“Let daddy make you feel good. Alright, darlin’?” You nodded dumbly at the proposition of getting something more than your tits massaged.

His eyes flashed with lust, making quick work to peel off the flannel and toss it to the ground. Already growing hard at the thought of having his way with you, he tilted towards you, kissing the column of your neck and letting his beard tickle your skin. You released a shaky exhale, fingers running through his graying hair and tipping your head back to grant him more access to your skin.

“Atta girl.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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vettelsvee · 3 days

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YOU'RE JALEOUS | Charles Leclerc

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles gets jaleous of lando when he sees him talking with his girlfriend

wordcount: 1529

a/n: it's been a long time coming but i'm finally here! i've actually had this saved on my drafts for quite a long time BUT never posted it. however, since we got charles pole today, i thought you might like this even tough is a crap (i'm so sorry, you absolutely deserve better works) :)

you can send your one shots requests here or via anon! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Charles and you decided to attend a party they had been invited by someone the driver didn’t even know, that took place at one of the most famous venues in Monaco. Although you initially felt intimidated because none of Leclerc's colleagues had appeared yet, as you drank a few drinks, the music seemed interesting enough for you to dance along with the twinkling lights.

To say that Leclerc was happy with his performance on the track that afternoon would be a li. His pride was immense because he had finally achieved the victory: winning not only for the first time in 2024 season, but also winning his very own home race for the first time ever. This had led to great acclaim not only from his fans but also from specialists, the press, the team, and even his colleagues, who were eagerly awaiting il predestinato's return to the victories.

In those moments, with his shiny black suit highlighting his appearance and, especially, his trained body, he felt unique, and even more so with you by his side. You were matching your partner perfectly with the dazzling dress you were wearing and that fit you perfectly.

As you enjoyed a drink in a quiet corner after a long time on the dance floor, Leclerc wrapped his arm around your waist, intending to bring you closer to his side. Your eyes met, somewhat mischievous, leading to a playful smile forming on your lips.

"Charles, you’ve been incredible in today's race," you exclaimed with excitement, proudly praising your boyfriend's talent. "I'm so proud of you."

Charles returned your smile, feeling filled with joy by your unconditional support.

"Thank you, darling. But what I'm proud of, and also lucky for, is having you in my life," he responded tenderly.

You continued chatting animatedly without an apparent topic of conversation, ranging from what would be your next holiday destination to the upcoming race, which would take place in Canada. However, when you started talking about a charity event that Charles would have the opportunity to lead, your gazes turned to a familiar figure approaching you: Lando Norris.

"Hey, Charles! Congratulations on that first place!" Norris exclaimed, excited to see his friend.

"Thanks, Lando!" the mentioned replied enthusiastically, patting the McLaren driver on the back. "You did great too. A sixth place is not what I expected from those cars, but it was truly impressive taking into account the strategy they had for you."

"Stop talking about McLaren when you know we can talk about Ferrari," Norris joked.

You observed the interaction between the two drivers with a mix of pride and curiosity. At first, you decide to give space to both guys, letting them freely discuss the day's events without the attentive gaze of a girl. However, when you finished checking your social media and posted a few Instagram stories with photos you took that morning, you decided to join the conversation.

"Lando, have you forgotten about me?" you teased. "I'm still in shock from today's race. It was a real spectacle."

"Thanks, Y/N!" He stopped looking at you and instead turned to his friend. "What do you think if we celebrate our incredible, but true, achievements together now? No one else is coming, and I talked to Carlos earlier!"

You looked at Charles, seeking his approval. He, a bit tipsy, nodded with a smile.

"I had other plans in mind but I think we can actually postpone them. Right, Y/N?"

With such a declaration, you three headed to the dance floor, not without first ordering something to drink to accompany you in your enjoyment full of laughter, excitement and dance moves that were surely the ones from someone who’s had enough drinks for a day.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, Charles noticed you stepping away from his side to join some members of the Ferrari team. He decided to follow you, ready to talk to his coworkers. To his surprise, you were chatting animatedly, in the midst of the crowd, with Lando, who had excused himself to go to the bathroom minutes before.

Jealousy and anger coursed through his body in a shiver. The Monegasque felt an urgent need to intervene and mark his territory. As much as he knew you didn't depend on him, and you were both completely independent individuals sometimes, moments like this were the ones where he felt a hint of insecurity about those who, apparently, dared, even minimally, to intrude on your relationship.

Forgetting his discretion and good judgment, Charles rushed towards you and the Brit, his eyes filled with determination and a threatening look on his face, ignoring the insults he had received from those drunkards he had punched.

"What's going on here?" he demanded to know in an authoritative and tense tone.

You and Lando turned, surprised, at Charles's intrusion. You looked at him, confused by the jealousy in your boyfriend's face. You were simply discussing with Norris the idea for a special party in Monaco the following week, just before the next Gran Prix, in honor of Charles’ recent victory.

"Love, you're misinterpreting things," you said, trying to stay calm. "We were just talking as friends," you emphasized the last word.

Leclerc clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger.

"I don't want you to keep talking to him," he communicated harshly, surprising you greatly.

Lando intervened, trying to alleviate the tension and, especially, to calm his friend's apparent sadness:

"Dude, you have no reason to make a scene in front of everyone over an insignificant bout of jealousy. We're just having a friendly conversation about something for next week, okay?"

Leclerc's expression became even tenser, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the symbiosis that you, his girlfriend, and Lando, his friend and opponent, seemed to have in hiding something.

"I wouldn't want to ask you again, so... What were you talking about?" Charles inquired in an even sharper tone.

Feeling you boyfriend's murderous gaze, you tried your best not to burst into tears over something as stupid as Charles's insecurity.

"Seriously, believe us," Lando spoke, trying to calm the brunette down. "You have to trust us, we were just talking about something we came up for next week just before Canada!"

The Ferrari driver tried to control his anger, if it was still possible. Meanwhile, he took his time to look at you with, once again, a mix of anger and disappointment, mainly for not answering him.

"And you, why don't you answer me? Are you only interested in him now?"

You looked at him surprised by such a comment, and tried to explain quickly:

"I'll repeat it again, honey: we were just having a friendly conversation! Lando is my friend and your rival, friend, or whatever you want to say it, but there's nothing more to it!"

Out of nowhere, Charles gently took you by the wrist and led you to a place where you could talk quietly. The green-eyed, despite having a bit more alcohol in his system than he should, knew he messed up and needed to fix it somehow.

"Y/N, please be honest: what were you talking about?" Leclerc asked with a concerned expression on his face for the scene he had caused.

"About what we could do in Monaco, here, next week, alright?" you responded, trying to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about anything"

"But why are you talking to him about racing?" the Monegasque insisted again, trying to calm his tone of jealousy. "I don't understand why you have to make plans with other drivers when you're my girlfriend."

"Charles, come on, don't be jealous!" you scolded with a playful smile. "Besides, what we were planning was a surprise party in your honor because, in case you don't remember, you just won your first home race ever. I don't think that's anything bad."

Charles felt really stupid at that moment.

"Are you jealous, my dearest friend?" Lando decided to intervene, who had been attentive the whole time to the intimate scene between the couple.

"What? No!" Leclerc replied as calmly as possible, his attempt in vain.

"Well, it seems quite the opposite to me," Norris said. "You should relax a bit. There's nothing wrong with your girlfriend talking to other drivers, even more so when she's preparing a party for you."

Il predestinato realized Norris was right and decided to calm down.You really didn't deserve the jerk behavior he was displaying at you at the moment.

"I guess you're right, Lando," he turned to you, timidly reaching for her hands. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have behaved like that."

"It's okay, Charles. I understand that sometimes jealousy can be hard to control, I feel the same way sometimes about your fans, but I manage, not like you just showed me tonight!" you answer with a smile, hitting him in his arm.

Charles felt relieved to see that you had no interest in Lando beyond friendship and planning a failed surprise party in the process. Therefore, he just enjoyed the rest of the night with you, with his friend, and without having to worry about anything else.

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sickslimez · 24 hours

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STILL IN LOVE! #1 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

ex husband! who stops by your house to drop your kids off after their weekend with him. He’s walking your daughter, Naya, and Megumi to the front door, smiles adorning their chubby little faces. “Hi, mommy!” Naya giggles, running to hug you. Toji is walking slowly behind Megumi, ruffling the little boys hair.

“Hi, baby.” You smile, kissing her cheek. “You two have fun with daddy?” You hug Megumi as well, kissing the top of his head.

“Yeah, we met dad’s new girlfriend,” the little boy casually says as he walks past you and into the house to place his stuff down. Your raise your eyebrows in surprise, eyes following your sons figure before he disappears into the house.

“She’s in the car! Her name is Yoko!” Your daughter giggled before following her brother. You awkwardly clear your throat as it was only you and toji standing outside.

“Girlfriend, huh?” You force a smile, rubbing your palms on your jeans as you stare at him.

“Yeah, those two beat me to it before I could say anything,” he chuckled. “How was your weekend, though, mama?” He tilts his head slightly. The familiar nickname now a normal thing between you two ever since you gave birth to your two kids. From the looks of it, it seems like Toji won’t break out of the habit of saying it.

"Wow, well...congrats." You smile. There was a burning sensation in your chest, a ringing in your ears as you stared at the man in front of you. It was wrong of you to feel this way about the situation, to feel jealous. Toji was your ex husband, you two cut ties over a year ago.

"Yeah, thanks." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. The thing about you and Toji is that there was still something there that neither of you wanted to confront. The sex that you both still had with each other wasn't just casual sex, him whispering in your ear how much he missed you. How he'd hold you after and gently kiss your lips reminded you of the times you were still together. The nights he slept over and stayed for breakfast, bonding like one big family. How he still brought you gifts for your birthday and valentines day despite not being together. You weren't sure what to make of it, but knowing Toji, you knew not to take him seriously.

He was a player before you met him and you wouldn't be surprised if he ended becoming a player again. And that was the case exactly. As much as you told yourself not to fall for all his little tricks, you still found yourself doing it anyway. He was your husband for over five years, he was the father of your children. How could you not? It's why you feel so jealous now. It only seems that he was using you and playing you before he found himself another girl to entertain him. Of course, what more could you expect?

"Okay, I'll see you next weekend, mama." He turned around so effortlessly, walking off of your doorstep with a small wave.

"See you," you nonchalantly replied. Your eyes followed his figure as he got into his car, watching him kiss the new girl he had eyes for. Would it be wrong for you to say you were still in love with your ex husband?

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kckt88 · 3 days

Text

Byka rūklon.

Summary:

Prince Aemond has been enjoying a secret relationship with a maid in the Red Keep, but as the Dance of Dragons begins, Aemond makes a decision in order to protect the one he loves.

Warnings - Angst, Darma, Secret Relationship, Kissing, Spit Kink, Smut - Oral Sex, P in V, Mention of Betrothal, Mention of Death, Vulnerability.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N

Word Count: 7,000

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

The Red Keep was shrouded in the quiet stillness of the night, its imposing walls casting long shadows under the pale moonlight. Y.N. moved swiftly and silently through the darkened corridors, her heart pounding in her chest.

She knew every secret passage, every hidden door that the servants used to navigate the vast castle unnoticed.

Reaching the concealed entrance, she glanced around to ensure she was alone before slipping inside. The narrow passage was cold and damp, its stone walls rough against her fingertips.

She moved with practiced ease, her steps light and deliberate as she approached the hidden door that led into Aemond's chambers.

She eased the door open, the faint creak masked by the sound of crackling fire from within the room.

Peeking inside, she saw Aemond pacing back and forth, his movements agitated, his face a mask of frustration and anger. He was muttering to himself, his words sharp and filled with venom.

"-To break bread with those I despise," he was saying, his voice low but intense. "How am I expected to sit and feign civility when my blood boils at the sight of them?"

Y.N. slipped into the room, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could. Aemond did not notice her presence immediately, too absorbed in his thoughts.

"And that wretched nephew of mine," Aemond continued, his tone growing harsher. "He dares to mock me, after all the pain he has already inflicted. Does he think me weak? Does he think I have forgotten?"

"Aemond," Y.N. said softly, stepping forward.

He stopped abruptly, his gaze snapping to her. For a moment, his expression softened, the anger giving way to relief at her presence. "Y.N.," he breathed, striding towards her. "I did not hear you come in."

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I used the secret passageway.”

Aemond's hand covered hers, his grip firm but tender. "Your presence is a balm to my troubled mind," he said, his voice quieter now, the edge of his earlier rage fading.

Y.N. guided him to a nearby chair, urging him to sit. "Tell me what troubles you”.

He sat down heavily, running a hand through his silver hair. "It is my family," he began. "The feigned smiles and false courtesies. I am expected to dine with those who whisper lies and deceit. And my nephew—" His jaw clenched. "Lucerys. He mocks me, as if the wound he dealt me was not enough."

Y.N. knelt beside him, her eyes filled with empathy. "You carry so much weight on your shoulders, Aemond. Do not let the malice consume you."

Aemond looked down at her, his eye softening as he cupped her face in his hands. "You are my light in the darkness, Y.N. With you, I find the strength to endure."

She leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with love and determination. "And I will always be here for you”.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "Promise me you'll stay with me tonight”.

"Always," she whispered back, her voice filled with unwavering devotion.

"Let me have you tonight," he whispered, his voice a hushed plea, filled with longing and vulnerability. "Let me forget the world, if only for a few hours."

Y.N. looked up into his eyes, her own filled with a mixture of love and desire. She could see the depth of his need, the raw emotion that he kept hidden from the world. In this moment, he was not the formidable Prince, but simply Aemond, a man seeking solace in her arms.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper but carrying all the affirmation he needed.

Aemond's gaze softened, a flicker of relief passing through his features as he gently cupped her face in his hands. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

But then-

“Open”

Aemond smirked as Y.N obediently opened her mouth; he ran his thumb slowly over her plump lower lip before slipping it inside her mouth.

Without further prompting Y.N closed her mouth and began to suck, her tongue sliding along his thumb, Aemond watched as a small trickle of drool made its way down her chin.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue over her chin as Y.N continued to suck the thumb he had in her mouth.

“Such a good girl-”

He removed his thumb and grasped Y.Ns chin, holding her mouth open as he leaned forward and spat in her open mouth.

“Swallow”

Aemond growled as he watched Y.N obey and swallow, her eyes never leaving his.

“Issa byka rūklon-” muttered Aemond as he slid his hands over her shoulder’s and down over her chest to the laces of her dress. (My little flower).

“-Aemond” whispered Y.N as he loosened her dress and it slid from her body, the material pooling at her feet.

“So beautiful-“ mumbled Aemond as he directed her to lay down on the bed.

Y.N shivered against the cool sheets of the bed, as she watched Aemond remove his leather jerkin, his long fingers quickly undoing the clasps. He pulled his arms free and threw the dark material onto one of the arms chairs.

Y.N began squirming as Aemond knelt down beside the bed, reaching to remove her small clothes, he bunched them up his hand before he pressed the cotton material to his face, inhaling the scent of Y.N’s arousal, his eye rolling into the back of his head.

After discarding her smallclothes, Aemond slid his hands up Y.N’s legs and held open her thighs as he moved forward and teasingly pressed his nose against her slick folds.

“A-Aemond”

“Hm, so wet for me issa jorrāelagon” rasped Aemond (My love).

“Please my Prince. I’ve been good” moaned Y.N as Aemond’s mouth descending on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into Y.N’s core with his tongue. Y.N clutched the bedspread, her fingers digging into the fabric.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Y.N ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

“That’s it come for me-issa gevie hāedar” urged Aemond, his fingers reaching forward to caress her pearl (My beautiful girl).

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N arching off the bed as she peaked.

“Hmm” muttered Aemond as he pressed a series of kisses to Y.N’s inner thighs.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.

Aemond rose from the floor, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped the back of his hand over chin and then ran his tongue over his hand, savouring the delicious taste of Y.N.

Aemond reached forward and manoeuvred Y.N onto all fours.

Y.N was a delectable sight indeed, her arse in the air, her wet cunt on display, gods he needed to be inside her.

Aemond squeezed the meat of her arse before he slapped her, delighting in Y.N’s squeal of surprise.

“Now baby, I’m going to fuck you until you scream” said Aemond, delighting in the way Y/N began nodding and whimpering.

Aemond quickly yanked off his cotton shirt and unfastened his breeches.

His cock slapped up against his abdomen, the head glistening with pre-cum.

“FUCK” groaned Aemond as he took his cock in hand and began rubbing it along Y.N’s wet folds.

“Please, my Prince. I want it-I want you, please don’t make me wait anymore” begged Y.N.

“Fuck, that’s it” moaned Aemond his hard length filling her cunny in one smooth stroke.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Y.N.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance.

He marvelled at her body. Such a beautiful, succulent thing his byka rūklon was. Allowing him entry into the most sacred parts of her body (Little flower).

Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, plunging his cock into her cunny over and over, thrilling to hear Y.N’s moans of need echoing around his chambers.

Bracing her arms, she pushed against him so he could shove his cock in. Harder and faster.

Aemond felt his balls draw in; his peak was approaching.

But he didn’t want to finish like this, he wanted to see her face as she came around his cock.

Aemond withdrew, ignoring Y.N whimper of protest as he rolled her onto her back and slipped inside her again.

Y.N wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, drawing him closer as he began to thrust inside her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

“A-Aemond, I’m close-please” begged Y.N.

He snaked a hand down Y.N’s body and played with her clitoris, stroking it with his fingers.

“Oh gods” moaned Y.N as her whole-body began to shake.

“Come for me, Byka rūklon” breathed Aemond, his thrusts starting to jerk (Little flower),

He was close. So close. Just a little more-

Y.N screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

“ñuhon-“ groaned Aemond as he spilled rope after rope of his seed, he had no recollection of what he did or said for the good minute it took for his peak to crest, then subside (Mine).

For a moment he held himself over Y.N’s body, careful not to collapse on top of her as his cock softened inside her.

After a few minutes Aemond gently pulled out and rolled onto the mattress beside Y.N, he reached forward and enveloped her into a tight hug.

“I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not at all” replied Y.N smiling.

The next morning, Y.N. woke early, the warmth of Aemond's embrace lingering in her memory as she prepared for another day of service in the Red Keep.

The castle was unusually quiet, an oppressive stillness hanging in the air. As she went about her duties, she noticed a sense of unease among the other servants, whispers of something amiss passing between them.

Shortly after, Y.N. and the other maids were rounded up by stern-faced guards and led to a large, dimly lit room deep within the castle.

The heavy wooden door was shut behind them with a resounding thud, the key turning in the lock, sealing them inside. The maids exchanged worried glances, their fear and uncertainty palpable.

Hours passed in anxious silence. Y.N. paced the room, her mind racing with possibilities. What could have caused such a drastic measure? She thought of Aemond, wondering if he knew what was happening.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Otto Hightower the hand of the King walked in, his expression grave. The maids gathered around, holding their breath as they awaited the news.

"King Viserys is dead," Otto announced, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation. Gasps and murmurs of shock rippled through the room. Y.N. felt her heart clench, the gravity of the situation settling over her like a dark cloud.

"In his last moments," Otto continued, "-The King expressed a wish for his oldest son, Prince Aegon, to succeed him on the Iron Throne. Not his named heir, Princess Rhaenyra."

The room erupted in whispers, the maids exchanging incredulous looks. This news contradicted everything they had known, everything the kingdom had been prepared for. Y.N.'s mind reeled, trying to process the implications. She thought of Aemond and how this upheaval might affect him and his family.

"Silence!" barked Otto, his voice cutting through the commotion. The maids fell silent, fear etched on their faces.

"You are commanded not to breathe a word of this to anyone. You will carry on with your duties as usual. Should any of you be caught spreading rumours or speaking out of turn, you will be severely dealt with. Do you understand?"

The maids nodded quickly, their fear of punishment overriding their curiosity and shock. Y.N. felt a cold dread settle in her stomach.

"You are dismissed," said Otto, stepping aside to let them pass. The maids filed out, their steps hurried and silent as they dispersed to their respective tasks.

Y.N. was polishing a suit of armour in one of the quieter hallways when she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching.

She looked up to see an older maid, Elara, whose kind eyes were now shadowed with worry.

"Y.N.," Elara said in a low voice, glancing around to ensure they were alone. "Prince Aemond has summoned you to his chambers. You are to go immediately and attend to any duties the Prince requires."

Y.N. nodded, masking the flutter of anxiety and excitement in her chest. "Thank you, Elara. I'll go at once."

As she made her way to Aemond's chambers, Y.N. took care to maintain the appearance of a dutiful maid, her steps measured and her expression neutral.

The news of King Viserys' death and the sudden shift in succession had everyone on edge, and she knew the importance of discretion now more than ever.

Arriving at the door to Aemond's chambers, she paused to smooth her apron and take a calming breath. She knocked softly, and his familiar voice called her in. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her, her eyes meeting Aemond's intense gaze.

He stood by the window, his posture rigid, the weight of the recent news evident in the lines of his face. Despite the turmoil, his expression softened slightly as he looked at her, a brief flicker of relief in his eye.

"You called for me, my Prince?" Y.N. said, keeping her tone respectful and formal.

"Yes," Aemond replied, his voice steady but tinged with underlying tension. "-There are matters we must discuss."

Y.N nodded as she approached him, her heart aching to offer comfort, but she maintained her composed demeanour. "How may I assist you, my Prince?"

“I take it you are aware of the Kings passing?” asked Aemond.

“Y-Yes my Prince-“ replied Y.N.

“My brother Aegon has been crowned. The council moved quickly to secure his position, claiming it was our father's final wish."

“What about the Princess Rhaenyra?"

Aemond's jaw tightened. "My mother, Alicent, believes we can find a peaceful resolution to these matters. She hopes to avoid bloodshed, to honour my father's memory by keeping the realm united."

"And you?" Y.N. asked softly, sensing the turmoil within him.

Aemond's eye darkened, the firelight reflecting the intensity of his gaze. "I know there will be no peace. Rhaenyra will not so easily relinquish her claim to the throne, nor will Daemon. A war is likely to be fought over the Iron Throne and the question of who is the rightful ruler."

Y.N. stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "What will you do?"

"Y.N., there is something I must tell you. My grandfather, has said that in order to secure Aegon's claim to the Iron Throne, we need to forge strong alliances. And the only way to do that is through marriage."

Y.N. felt a cold knot of fear tighten in her stomach, "What do you mean?"

Aemond took her hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle. "I have been ordered to go to Storm's End. There, I am to choose one of Borros Baratheon's daughters to wed in exchange for the Lord's support."

Tears welled in Y.N.'s eyes, the reality of his words crashing down upon her like a tidal wave. "No," she whispered, shaking her head as tears began to spill down her cheeks. "Aemond-"

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if to shield her from the pain. "I do not wish for this, Y.N. You know that my heart belongs to you, and only you."

"But you have to do it," she said, her voice breaking. "For your family, for the throne-"

Aemond's hand stroked her hair, his touch a tender balm against the anguish they both felt. "Yes. It is my duty. But that does not make it any easier. I cannot bear the thought of losing you."

Y.N. clung to him. "What will we do? How can we be together if you marry another?"

He took a deep breath, "When I marry, what we have must come to an end."

Y.N. felt her heart shatter, the tears she had been holding back spilling down her cheeks. "Aemond," she whispered, her voice breaking.

He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, his touch tender yet firm. "I do not wish to marry one of Borros Baratheon's daughters, but I cannot dishonour my wife. It would be unfair to her-“

Y.N. nodded, understanding his sense of duty even as it tore her apart. "I understand," she said, her voice barely audible.

Aemond's thumbs brushed away her tears, his gaze filled with a deep, aching sadness.

"Y.N.," Aemond whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I need-one night. One night where we can be together, without the burdens of duty and the shadow of the future hanging over us. Just you and me, as we are."

Tears welled in Y.N.'s eyes again, but this time they were tears of bittersweet joy. She nodded, her voice trembling as she replied, "Yes, Aemond”

He kissed her then, with a fervour and desperation that spoke of their shared need to hold onto each other, to savour every precious moment before the inevitable separation. As their lips parted, he led her to the bed.

Y.N. tried to throw herself into her duties, to lose herself in the mundane tasks that filled her days in the Red Keep. She scrubbed floors and dusted shelves, her movements automatic as she tried to push the thoughts of Aemond from her mind.

But no matter how hard she worked, his face lingered in her thoughts, his touch still imprinted on her skin.

Earlier that day, she had watched from the window as Aemond had taken to the sky on his dragon, Vhagar. The sight had torn at her heart, knowing that with each beat of the dragon's wings, he was moving further away from her, closer to the woman who would become his wife.

The thought of him choosing another, of him marrying someone who wasn't her, was like a dagger to her heart. She tried to push the pain away, to bury it deep beneath the surface, but it clawed at her relentlessly, refusing to be ignored.

As she worked, her hands shook with suppressed emotion, her vision blurred by unshed tears. She felt a lump form in her throat, choking off her breath as she struggled to hold back the flood of grief threatening to overwhelm her.

In moments of respite, she stole away to the quiet corners of the castle, seeking solace in the memories of their time together. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relive each stolen kiss, each whispered vow of love, clinging to them like lifelines in the midst of a storm.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the image of Aemond's face as he had pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his expression torn between duty and desire.

She knew that he was sacrificing his own happiness for the sake of his family and the realm, but it offered little comfort in the face of her own heartache.

In the back of her mind she knew getting involved with the Prince was only going to end one way, they couldn’t be together openly nor could they marry, he was a Prince and she was nothing but a lowly maid with no title or coin to her name.

As the day wore on and the sun dipped below the horizon, Y.N. found herself alone in the quiet of the evening. The castle seemed to echo with the emptiness of her own heart, a hollow reminder of the absence of the man she loved.

With a heavy sigh, she sank to her knees, the weight of her grief pressing down on her like a leaden cloak. She bowed her head, her tears falling freely now as she allowed herself to mourn the loss of what could never be.

In the darkness of the night, she whispered his name, a prayer and a plea for his safety and his happiness, even as she knew that her own heart would never be whole again.

"Y.N.," Elara whispered urgently, her hand gripping Y.N.'s shoulder. "Wake up, child. Prince Aemond has returned from his travels. He demands your presence in his chambers immediately."

Y.N.'s heart lurched in her chest, a cold knot of fear forming in the pit of her stomach.

Nodding silently, Y.N. threw off the covers and rose from her bed, her limbs heavy with apprehension. She dressed quickly, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the laces of her gown.

As she made her way through the deserted corridors of the Red Keep, her footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night.

When she reached Aemond's chambers, she hesitated for a moment outside the door, her hand hovering over the latch. With a steadying breath, she pushed it open and stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit by flickering candles, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Aemond stood by the window, his back to her, his silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky. His shoulders were tense, his posture rigid, and Y.N. felt a pang of apprehension at the sight of him.

"Aemond," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He turned to her; his expression unreadable in the half-light. "Y.N.," he replied, his voice low and strained.

"What has happened?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Aemond's gaze held hers for a long moment, his eye dark with sorrow and regret as he shook his head.

As Y.N. stepped further into the room, her eyes widened in alarm as she took in Aemond's appearance. He stood before her, drenched from head to toe, water droplets glistening in his hair and trickling down his face. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through.

"Aemond," she gasped, rushing to his side. "You're soaking wet, you should get out of these wet clothes before you catch a chill."

He remained silent; his gaze distant as he stood motionless before her. Without waiting for a response, Y.N. stepped forward, her fingers trembling slightly as she helped him to undress.

As she peeled the damp fabric away from his skin, she couldn't help but notice the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch, the coolness of his skin beneath her fingertips.

She pressed the towel against his pale skin, drying him off with gentle, careful strokes, the silence of the room broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional sound of his uneven breath.

As she finished drying him off, she stepped back, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of concern and compassion. "Aemond," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “What happened?”

Y.N. watched as Aemond sat down on the edge of his bed, his shoulders hunched and his expression haunted.

She hesitated for a moment before he patted the spot next to him, silently inviting her to join him. With a gentle nod, she obliged, taking a seat beside him.

As she settled onto the bed, she felt a tremor run through Aemond's frame, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Without a word, he shifted closer to her, curling up and resting his head in her lap. Y.N. froze for a moment, startled by the sudden intimacy of the gesture, before tentatively reaching out to stroke his silver hair.

In that moment, Aemond seemed so vulnerable, his usually stoic demeanour giving way to a raw, unguarded emotion.

He looked up at her with an eye that mirrored the pain and turmoil swirling within him, and for the first time, Y.N. saw him not as a Prince, but as a lost and wounded soul, desperately seeking solace in the arms of another.

With a soft sigh, she continued to stroke his hair, her touch gentle and soothing. She felt the tension begin to seep out of his body, his breathing gradually slowing as he surrendered to the comfort of her embrace.

"He's dead."

Y.N.'s heart skipped a beat at his words, her breath catching in her throat. "Who?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Aemond met her gaze, his eyes filled with a pain that cut straight to her soul. "Lucerys," he replied, his voice heavy with grief and guilt.

Y.N. felt the blood drain from her face at the mention of Lucerys Velaryon's name. "But-how?" she stammered, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what Aemond was saying.

Aemond took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he recounted the events that had led to Lucerys' death. "I wasn't the only envoy to arrive at Storm's End," he began, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Rhaenyra is also trying to rally support for her claim to the throne."

He paused, his gaze dropping to the floor as if unable to meet her eyes. "Borros Baratheon refused Lucerys," he continued, his voice tight with anger and regret. "But I-I wanted him to pay for what he did to me all those years ago."

Y.N. listened in stunned silence as Aemond spoke, her heart breaking with each word. She had known of what had happened between Aemond and Lucerys on Driftmark, but she had never imagined it would come to this.

"I took to the sky on Vhagar," Aemond went on, his voice trembling with emotion. "I chased Lucerys in the skies above Storm's End, wanting only to scare him, to make him feel as weak as he had made me feel all those years ago."

"But then-then his dragon, Arrax, attacked Vhagar," he said, his voice catching in his throat. "She wouldn't listen to my commands, and I tried to stop her, but she-she killed Lucerys."

Y.N. felt a wave of horror wash over her at Aemond's words, the enormity of what he had done crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She reached out to him, her hand trembling as she touched his arm.

"Aemond," she whispered, her voice choked with tears.

He looked at her then, his eyes filled with anguish and self-loathing. "I never meant for this to happen, Y.N.," he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I never wanted him to die-I just wanted to scare him”.

“I-It was an accident” whispered Y.N

Aemond's breathing grew rapid and shallow, panic flickering in his eye as he pulled back from Y.N.'s embrace. "No one can know it was an accident," he said, his voice urgent and strained. "No one"

Y.N. looked at him, her heart pounding with fear and confusion. "Aemond," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "You would rather the realm think you a kinslayer?"

Aemond met her gaze, his expression fierce and unyielding. "Yes," he replied without hesitation. "As far as anyone else is concerned, I meant to kill Lucerys. I did it on purpose."

Y.N. stared at him, stunned into silence. She had known Aemond to be proud and determined, but she had never imagined he would willingly accept such a terrible label. "Aemond," she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief, "-You can't be serious."

"I am," he said, his tone resolute. "If word gets out that it was an accident, it will weaken our position. People will see me as weak, as someone who lost control. They will question our strength and our resolve."

"But Aemond," Y.N. protested, her eyes wide with shock, "-You're condemning yourself to a life of infamy. A kinslayer is cursed in the eyes of the gods and men alike."

"I know," he replied, his voice filled with a grim determination. "But it is a burden I must bear. For the sake of my family, for the sake of our cause, I will wear that label if I must."

"Y.N., you need to leave the Red Keep."

She pulled back slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you talking about, Aemond? I'm not leaving you."

His eyes bore into hers, a fierce intensity in his gaze. "War is coming. The realm will be torn apart, and I won't risk your life. You must go somewhere safe, far away from here."

Y.N. shook her head vehemently, tears welling in her eyes. "No, Aemond. I refuse to leave you. I won't abandon you now, not when you need me the most."

He cupped her face in his hands, his expression pained but resolute. "Y.N., listen to me. I love you too much to see you harmed. Every moment you stay here, you're in danger. If something were to happen to you, I could never forgive myself."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched at his arms, desperation in her voice. "But Aemond, what about us? How can I live knowing that you're here, fighting alone, without me?"

Aemond's eyes softened, and he pressed his forehead against hers, his voice breaking. "It will break my heart to be apart from you, but it would bring me peace to know that you are safe. If you stay, I will be constantly worried for your safety. I need to know that you are far from harm, that you are somewhere where this war cannot touch you."

Y.N. sobbed quietly, the weight of his words sinking in. "I can't do it, Aemond. I can't leave you."

"You must," he insisted, his voice trembling. "For me, Y.N. Please. If you love me, you will do this. I cannot fight, I cannot lead, knowing that you might be caught in the crossfire. I need you to be safe, more than anything."

“-Aemond”

Aemond released Y.N. from their embrace and walked over to his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a small, leather pouch. He turned back to her, his expression a mixture of determination and sorrow.

He handed her the pouch, pressing it firmly into her hands. "There is enough here to last you for a while," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes. "At dawn, there is a ship sailing across the Narrow Sea bound for Pentos. That's where you will go."

Y.N. looked down at the pouch, the weight of the coins pressing against her palms like the weight of the world. "Pentos," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But, Aemond, I—"

He interrupted her gently but firmly. "You must go, Y.N. It is the only way I can be sure that you are safe. Pentos is far enough from the conflict that you will be out of harm's way."

She looked up at him, tears blurring her vision. "And what about you? How will I know if you're safe?"

Aemond's expression softened, and he reached out to cup her face in his hands. "I will come and find you when the war is over," he promised, his voice filled with a fierce determination.

Y.N. nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "-Aemond. I just-I don't want to leave you."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as if trying to memorize the feel of her skin. "I don't want you to leave either," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But this is the only way. I need to know that you are safe so I can focus on what needs to be done."

She clung to him, her heart breaking with the weight of their impending separation. "I'll go to Pentos," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But you have to promise me that you'll come for me."

Aemond pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes with a fierce intensity. "I promise, Byka rūklon. I will find you, no matter what. Just stay safe and wait for me." (Little flower).

Two years had passed, and Y.N. had settled into a quiet, unassuming life in a small town just outside of Pentos. The pouch of coins Aemond had given her had long since run out, forcing her to find work as a seamstress.

She spent her days sewing and mending, her fingers moving deftly through fabric as her mind wandered through memories of the past.

The days in the town were slow and uneventful, but news from Westeros still reached her, carried by travellers and merchants passing through.

She had heard of the young prince Jaehaerys' brutal murder at the hands of assassins, a tragedy that had left her reeling. Then came the news of Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys falling at Rook's Rest, followed by word of Aegon's severe injuries and Aemond being crowned as Prince Regent, and later news of a battle in the Gullet and the death of Prince Jacaerys also reached her.

When King's Landing fell, she heard of the tragic deaths of Jaehaera, Maelor and Helaena, who had eventually taken her own life. The death of Rhaenyra at Aegon's hands and his later death after being poisoned.

But it was the news of Aemond's death that truly shattered her.

She had clung to the hope that one day, she would look into the sky and see Vhagar, with Aemond keeping his promise to her.

But when she heard that he had perished in a dragon battle with Daemon and his dragon Caraxes above the God's Eye, that hope died within her. Vhagar was gone, and so was Aemond, resting alongside his dragon in their watery grave.

Y.N. wiped the tears from her cheeks, her heartache momentarily interrupted by the soft voice calling out from the corner of the room. "Mama?"

She turned, her eyes focusing on the small cot in the corner. With a deep breath, she stood and walked over to the cot, her steps slow and heavy. As she approached, the sight before her filled her with a mixture of sorrow and love.

The silver-haired boy looked up at her with wide, curious eyes, the perfect image of his father. His hair, the same shade of silver as Aemond's, shimmered in the dim light of the room, and his violet eyes held a depth and intensity that reminded her so much of the man she had lost.

"Mama," the boy repeated, reaching out to her with tiny hands.

Y.N. knelt beside the cot, a soft smile forming on her lips despite the tears that still glistened in her eyes. "Yes, my love," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. "Mama is here."

Y.N looked at the silver-haired boy, his tiny fingers clutching hers, and wondered what Aemond would think if he knew that on their last night together, his seed had taken root, and she had borne him a son.

Y.N’s thoughts swirled with the bittersweet reality of their situation. She knew, deep in her heart, that Aemond would have still sent her away, even if he had known she was carrying his child.

Their love, while deep and true, existed within the constraints of a world governed by duty, honour, and rigid social structures.

Aemond was a Prince, bound by obligations and expectations that came with his birthright. She was nothing but a maid, a servant within the halls of the Red Keep.

Despite the intensity of their love, they lived in a world where such a union was not just frowned upon, but practically impossible.

"In this world, you may be considered a bastard," she whispered to the boy, her voice filled with quiet determination. "But you are also the son of a Prince. And I will make sure you know of your father, and the love that brought you into this world."

The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden light over the small garden where Y.N. was busy digging up vegetables. Aemion, sat on a blanket nearby, happily playing with his wooden toys.

Y.N wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, smiling at Aemion's joyful play. Despite the hardships, these moments brought her a sense of peace and fulfilment.

Her hands worked deftly in the soil, but her mind wandered, as it often did, to memories of Aemond.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over her, startling Y.N.

She quickly straightened up, her heart pounding in her chest. Instinctively, she reached for Aemion and hauled him into her arms before she withdrew the small knife hidden in her sleeve.

"Stay back. I’m no weakling woman-I will slit you from cock to throat if you dare lay hands upon me or my son-" she commanded, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins.

The stranger remained silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice deep and familiar. "Byka rūklon-“

Y.N.'s heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widening in disbelief as the figure pulled down his hood.

"Aemond," she whispered, her voice breaking with a mixture of shock and overwhelming emotion.

He looked weary and travel-worn, his face bearing new marks of the brutal battles he had fought.

A deep scar ran from his left temple into his hairline, and burn scars marred his neck and under his chin. Yet his gaze was as intense and piercing as ever.

Aemond took a step forward, his eyes locked on hers. "Y.N.," he said softly, his voice filled with an emotion that mirrored her own.

The knife slipped from her fingers, forgotten, as she clutched Aemion tightly to her chest. She took a hesitant step forward, her eyes scanning Aemond's face as if trying to confirm that he was truly there. "How-how are you here? I thought-you died in the battle above the God's Eye."

Aemond nodded slowly, his expression grim. "I probably have" he admitted. "After the battle, I was dragged under the water. I thought it was the end. The last thing I thought of was you, Y.N. I would have died content knowing you were safe."

Tears welled up in Y.N.'s eyes as she listened, clutching Aemion closer. "But you're here," she whispered. "How did you survive?"

Aemond took a deep breath, reaching out to gently touch her cheek. "The gods had other ideas," he said softly. "When I was being pulled under, the strap on my riding chain broke. I managed to free myself and make it to the edge of the lake. I must have passed out because the next thing I remember is waking up in Harrenhal. My wounds were being tended to by a healer."

Y.N. reached up to cover his hand with hers, feeling the rough texture of his scarred skin. "I can't believe it," she murmured, tears streaming down her face.

Aemond's gaze softened as he looked at the child in Y.N.'s arms, his heart swelling with a mixture of awe and tenderness. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing through the boy's silver hair.

“I-Is he-“

"Yes. His name is Aemion," Y.N. said softly, her voice filled with pride and love.

Aemond's smile widened at the revelation, his eye shining with unspoken emotion. "Aemion," he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a whispered promise. "It suits him."

“Given his resemblance to you-there was no other name for him”

He looked up at Y.N., his expression filled with gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "For giving me this gift."

Y.N. reached out, her hand finding his, their fingers intertwining.

Aemond's eye filled with tears as he looked at Aemion "May I-may I hold him?" he asked, his voice trembling with anticipation.

Y.N. nodded, her own eyes brimming with tears of happiness. "Of course," she said, carefully placing Aemion into Aemond's arms.

Aemond cradled the boy close to his chest, feeling the weight of love settle over him. Aemion stirred in his arms, his amethyst eyes meeting his father's gaze.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.

Then, Aemion let out a small noise of contentment, and snuggled closer to Aemond's chest.

"I'm sorry-" whispered Aemond, his voice choked with emotion. "-That It took me so long to keep my promise. I should have been here sooner."

Y.N. reached out, her hand finding his, her touch gentle and reassuring. "It doesn't matter," she said softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You're here now and that's all that matters."

Aemond's heart swelled with gratitude at her words. How had he been so fortunate to have her in his life? "I'm never leaving you again. We belong together, you, me, and Aemion. Nothing will ever tear us apart."

Y.N. looked up at Aemond, her eyes searching his face for answers. "What happens now?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aemond met her gaze, his expression thoughtful. "Everyone believes I died alongside Vhagar," he said quietly, his tone filled with resignation. "And I'm more than willing to continue letting them believe that."

Y.N.'s brow furrowed in confusion. "But why?" she asked, unable to hide the concern in her voice.

Aemond reached out, gently cupping her cheek with his hand. "Because if everyone thinks I'm dead, then I can be free to live as I want to," he explained, his voice tinged with determination. "I'm free to be with the woman I love, to raise our son together without the burden of duty and expectation weighing us down."

Y.N. felt a surge of emotion welling up inside her, threatening to overwhelm her. She had never dared to hope for a future like this, where she could be with Aemond openly, without fear of judgment or reprisal.

"But what about your family, your responsibilities?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Aemond shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "My family is gone," he said softly. "And as for responsibilities, my only duty now is to you and Aemion”.

Y.N. felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she looked at Aemond, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "For choosing us."

Aemond smiled, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I would choose you a thousand times over," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "You and Aemion are my everything, Y.N. And I will spend the rest of my days proving that to the both of you."

THE END.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd smut

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55sturn · 10 hours

Note

reader and bff!matt going out to the club for a couple drinks and getting a lil handsy on the uber ride back to his place

✮ A DRUNKEN NIGHT WITH BFF!MATT

disclaimer: alcoholic consumption, nsfw, heavy petting, dry humping, implications of going further.

matt leaned against you in the backseat, his head resting against the headrest behind him as the one too many shots of tequila made his head spin. but that wasn’t the only thing making the car seats in front of him blur and twirl, or making his head feel fuzzy.

it was your perfume. and the closeness of your body. and the way you reacted to his touch. and the way the skin of your thigh felt so soft beneath his hand as he dared to inch his hand beneath the hem of your ridiculously short dress. another thing that made his mind swarm with thoughts of you, in a way he definitely shouldn’t think about his best friend.

“you smell so good.” he hums against your bare shoulder, the fingers of his hand now pushing fully beneath your dress as you struggled to keep yourself steady. the feeling of his hands barely roaming your body had you struggling to bite back your whimpers, wanting to beg for something more from him.

biting the bullet, his hand ventures further as his lips press against the side of your throat, your head falling back as his fingertips pressed against the lace of your thong, your arousal seeping through, making his lips quirk up into an arrogant smirk and you can’t hold back as you turn toward him, capturing his lips in your, desperate to wipe that smirk off his face.

he’s got half a nerve to even considering not pulling you into his lap, and so, against his better judgment that he’d hold sober, he’s pulling you into his lap, not really giving a fuck about the driver in the front grimacing at the sounds of you making out, nearly dry humping one another.

his hands are quick to guide your hips back and forth over his hardening cock, while simultaneously pulling harder against him, the pressure of your cunt pressing against his cock feeling far too good for him to stop, he needs this. he’s spent too long pining after you.

as the driver pulls onto his street, you’re nearing your orgasm, the frequency of your whines and the way they’re climbing in pitch telling him so. so he’s making sure to guide your hips faster against his, wanting to see you fall apart in his lap. and he’s swallowing your whines as the driver parks in his driveway.

your heads are cloudy, and neither of you are sure if it’s from the alcohol or from the post orgasm haze, but when you stumble up to the front door, his hand pulling you along, and the giggles falling from your lips have him feeling so giddy. so when he tugs you into the safety of his room, you find yourself feeling happier than you ever have, and you know that this won’t be the last time you find yourself in his bed.

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#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut

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scoonsalicious · 2 days

Text

7.3 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (unprotected piv, slight praise kink, slight size kink)

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: You finally got Bucky's dick down your throat <3

A/N: Again, sorry about yesterday, besties! My spirit child took precedence. At least this is a decent-sized, smutty update!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

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

You were pretty proud of yourself, you had to admit. You had no idea how many women Bucky had slept with over the years (and, if you were being completely honest, you really didn’t want to know), but given he was well over a hundred, you figured it had to be a pretty decent number. Yet, here he was, lying next to you, trying to recover like you’d literally just sucked his very soul out of his body. You swore you’d never swallowed so much cum in your entire life, let alone at one time. For a moment there, you’d briefly wondered if you’d be the only person in history to literally drown in cum.

You’d never enjoyed giving your ex-husband head before, but giving it to Bucky had felt almost like a religious experience. He’d allowed you to take your time, to set your own pace, and do what felt natural to you– not just grab both sides of your head and fuck your face like a fleshlight, the way Connor had been so fond of doing. Your mouth was going to be so sore tomorrow, though. It was like having a forearm in there. You laughed quietly to yourself. Totally worth it.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asked, rolling over onto his side so he could face you properly.

“I was just reminiscing about how huge your dick felt in my mouth, Sarge,” you told him honestly.

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Major,” he moaned into your shoulder, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna get me going all over again.”

You smiled and scooted closer to whisper in his ear. “That cock was so big, I thought I was gonna choke on it, Sergeant.” Bucky shivered and, sure enough, you could feel the appendage in question hardening against your stomach as you spoke. He was insatiable, and you loved it.

“Come back with me to the Compound tonight,” Bucky said. “It’s closer than your place and I’m not going to be able to wait much longer to be inside of you.”

You sat up, torn between being touched that he wanted to take you back to the home he shared with his friends, and wanting to just jump his bones immediately. In the end, being horny won out. “Why wait, Bucky? We’re both already naked, and you’ve already blown one load out here. What’s a couple more?” You reached down and grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it gently.

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky groaned. He sat up and placed a hand over yours to cease your ministrations. “Sugar, we can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, as though it pained him to put a stop to your actions. “This is a public park. What if we get caught?”

You threw your head back and laughed at that. “Bucky,” you said through your giggling, “that’s half the fun! Besides,” you said, turning a bit more serious once you saw the concern in his eyes, “it’s after hours on a Sunday night. No one is coming to the park now. And even if they did, what are the odds of them finding us? We’re so far off trail.”

“They could see the lanterns,” Bucky said, “and follow the light. And I just… Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He turned his face from you, embarrassed. You were beginning to love the way he shied from you when he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing.

You frowned and gently tilted his chin so he was facing you again. “What’s ‘stupid’? Bucky, you can tell me; I’m not going to judge you, I promise.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “I just… don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” he murmured, running his vibranium hand down your shoulder. “You look like a fucking goddess tonight, Major. I want to be the only one that gets to worship you.”

His words couldn’t have had more of an impact on you if you had been physically struck by them. “Bucky,” you whined, pulling him close to kiss him. You had a fleeting thought of self consciousness, that he’d be able to taste himself on your lips, but he didn’t seem to care as his tongue sought entry into your mouth. He kissed you like he was dying of thirst, and your lips were the only source of water for miles.

“Let’s compromise,” you told him once you’d broken apart. “We can blow out some of the lanterns, so we’re not so easy to find.” Bucky nodded, seeming to like the idea of your offer. “Then,” you continued, “you can fuck me under the stars.”

The two of you must have looked absolutely ridiculous, you thought, traipsing around, completely naked, as you collected all of the things that Bucky had brought for your picnic and packing them away into the basket, save for the blankets and some pillows, giggling like idiots the entire time. You wanted to have everything packed up as neatly as possible before blowing out the lanterns, so that when it did come time to finally leave, you wouldn’t risk leaving anything behind because you’d been fumbling around in the dark. You’d both completely forgotten about actually eating dinner.

As you worked, you kept sneaking occasional glances over at Bucky, admiring the way the light rippled over his body. The man was essentially made entirely of muscle, and yeah, you’d seen him naked before, in the confines of your condo, but something about seeing all of him outside, under an open sky, did something to you. It made you feel… feral.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked, causing you to refocus and clear your head.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled as he walked over toward you. “Well, you stopped moving, then got this dazed look on your face, and you were just kind of staring at my dick,” he said. Reaching you, he put his hands on your hips and playfully yanked you toward him.

You chuckled at his apt description of what you must have looked like. “Just admiring the scenery, Sarge,” you teased. You could feel your desperation for him growing by the second. You took his hand and guided it down your body, between your breasts, down the skin of your stomach, until you had it against your aching heat.

Bucky took the initiative of running two of his thick fingers between your folds, gathering your copious slick. “Oh, sugar,” he said, his voice almost patronizing, “you’re fucking soaked.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off your arousal. “Shit, you taste so damn sinful. Be a good girl and go wait for me on the blanket while I finish up, alright?”

You nodded and did as he asked. You watched as he quickly finished gathering all the lanterns and blowing them out, one by one, until he was just a silhouette of shadow among shadows.

“Hey, sugar,” Bucky said through the darkness as he climbed toward you across the blanket. Your eyes were adjusting to the starlight, and though you couldn’t make him out perfectly, you could see him much easier.

“Hi, Sarge,” you replied with a soft giggle as you reached for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

“Oh, doll,” Bucky purred, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He kneeled down on the blanket, resting back on his heels, and, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, he picked you up, positioning you so you were facing him, straddling your legs on either side of his torso. “Tonight, I’m making love to you, Major. Put your arms around my neck.”

You obeyed him dumbly, his words having driven all rational thought completely out of your head. Bucky reached underneath you, putting his hands under your ass and using them to pull you close to his chest. “Are you ready?” he asked.

You nodded desperately; you were practically dripping for him by this point, but something hit you. “Fuck,” you hissed. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“What happened to my always prepared Girl Scout?” Bucky asked with a grin.

“I thought we were going out to dinner!” you told him in exasperation. “I didn’t think we’d end up fucking in the middle of the woods! I just assumed we’d end up fucking back at my place, where I have copious amounts of condoms!”

Bucky laughed at that. “Well, maybe we should both start carrying them at all times then, sugar. Just in case. Seems we’re making it a habit of not always gettin’ to a bed in time.” But then his face turned serious. “If you’re worried about diseases or whatever, you don’t have to be– the serum, it prevents me from contractin’ anything, so I can’t pass stuff on, either. Kind of like a catch-all vaccination. The only thing we’d have to worry about is… well,” his eyes glanced down to your belly. “You know. I can always pull out before I finish, if you want.”

Just the idea of feeling him inside of you, with absolutely nothing between you, invaded your thoughts and filled your mind like a thick smoke, reaching every crevice of your brain until it was all you could think about. To actually feel him cum inside of you… “Don’t you dare,” you said, a little more sharply than you intended. “Pull out, I mean. Fuck, I wanna feel you, Bucky. All of you. I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. I can pick up some Plan B in the morning, just to be safe.”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, sugar, if you’re sure.”

You tightened your grip around his neck. “I’m so sure, Sergeant Barnes,” you said. “I wanna feel every inch of you inside of me.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex without a condom before,” he confessed. “Don’t take it personal if I don’t last. It just means you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help myself.”

You snorted at that, and Bucky grinned at you. “As long as you make sure I cum, too,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I don’t care how long you last.” You both knew he would never leave you unsatisfied.

“Hey.” Bucky jerked his chin so he was looking into your eyes again. “I’m really glad that, this first time for me without anything between me and a dame, it’s with you.”

You didn’t have words to describe how that made you feel, so you did the only thing that would properly convey the depth of your affection toward him– you kissed him as you lowered yourself onto his dick. You were so wet, he met virtually no resistance as he tilted his hips up into you. And your body, now after your… eleventh, or was it twelfth?-- time in two and a half days, knew how to welcome him.

“Holy fucking shit!” you gasped.

“What is, doll?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea how deep you feel inside of me right now, Bucky?” you asked him. “It’s like I can feel you in my soul.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he started using his arms to guide you up and down on his cock, sliding himself nearly all the way out before pulling you back down on him again, and each stroke felt like ecstasy. “Damn it, doll,” Bucky said, looking down to watch where his cock disappeared inside of you, “you feel so fuckin’ good! I don’t know if I can ever go back to fucking you covered again!”

“Oh, god, Bucky,” you moaned. You didn’t know if you could go back, either, not with the way you could feel every single vein of him drag against your inner walls. His motions were deliberate, slow, gently feeding the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it the way he usually did. It was intoxicating.

“Look at me, sugar,” he begged, his voice holding a tone of longing. Your eyes met his, and despite the dark, they shone. You couldn’t look away as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking amazing, Major,” he gasped, timing his statements to match his languid thrusts. “So goddamn beautiful.” Thrust. “You make me laugh.” Thrust. “You’re brave as hell.” Thrust. “You’re independent.” Thrust. “Strong.” Thrust. “Smart.” Thrust.

He kept praising you as he increased his rhythm, hips thrusting up into you faster and faster, the whole while keeping his eyes locked on yours. The coil inside of you was tightening, constricting the expanse of your lungs, making your breath come out in shallow gasps.

You kissed him, putting every ounce of lust into the motion, moaning into his mouth as he never broke stride and brought you closer to the edge. “Bucky,” you moaned into his mouth. “Fuck, Bucky, you’re making me feel so good, honey. Don’t stop, please!”

“Never, sugar,” Bucky grunted back. “Fuck, wanna make love to you until the day I die.” You sucked in a breath at his words, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Bucky’s thrusts faltered. “Doll,” he said, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, “did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head as you worked your own hips to make up for his loss of motion. “No, Bucky, shit, honey, you’re saying everything so right. I’m crying because I can’t remember the last time I felt so goddamn happy.”

Bucky resumed his thrusts with a renewed purpose. Getting up on knees, he repositioned you so you were lying on your back, his giant frame leaning over you. “Come on, sugar,” Bucky grunted as he snaked a hand down to your clit and began to rub. “Need to feel you cum around my cock. Show me how happy you are, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to bring your face closer to his. Grabbing a hold of the chain that held your name, you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. “‘M so close, honey,” you moaned into his lips. “Need you to give it to me.”

“I wanna give you everything, Major,” he grunted, kissing you again. And then, suddenly, it was all over for you, the coil snapping, and you were falling, shouting his name to the stars and the sky. Bucky’s thrusts lost their careful rhythm, and you could feel him spilling into you, wave after warm wave of cum pouring down your channel.

“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky cried. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Shit, baby– you feel so fucking good, sugar. ‘S so good, can’t stop cumming.” His words lost all meaning as they devolved into grunts and moans as he collapsed on you, his hips still thrusting as if with a mind of their own.

The weight of him should have been suffocating, but instead, you never felt safer than you did with his body splayed on top of yours. He held you to him, as though afraid that, were he to let go, you would float away on the breeze, and you felt so light after your orgasm, you very well could have. Mumbling sweet nothings into the side of your neck, Bucky’s flesh hand found your hair, stroking it.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your skin. “Thank you so much, Major.”

You let out a shuddering breath, hands gripping the muscles of his upper back as you held him, legs finding their way around his waist. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That was everything.”

After a few moments, Bucky gently rolled off of you, but his hands never left your body as he held you close, running his fingers along the meridian of your spine.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked you. Always considerate, always checking in. It made your heart swell with affection. Fuck, with love for him.

“So good,” you told him. You placed a gentle kiss on his pectoral. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good time?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, sugar?” he asked with mock incredulity. “Every time I’m with you feels like the best time of my fucking life. And I’m not just saying that,” he added, anticipating your incoming protest. “You… I don’t know what it is you do to me, Major. I just know that, when I look at you, things feel right, for the first time since I shipped out in ‘43. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

But goddamn if this man didn’t know how to say just the right words to you. “If you’re not careful, Bucky Barnes,” you said, hoping to put enough tease in your voice to mask how sincerely you felt the words you were saying, “I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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ponderingmoonlight · 2 days

Note

hi lovely ! you asked for kny requests and i've just finished my kny volume 22 re-read, so thats perfect timing 💙

I was wondering if you could write something with Yoriichi — (tw for potential child loss)

Maybe a hurt/comfort fic where his pregnant wife actually survives the demon attack while he's away (but maybe she gets quite badly injured and their unborn child doesn't make it, if you want to add a little extra angst to it. If not then that's totally fine, this man deserves a happy ending after all 🥺)

Of course, you're the writer — feel free to take any creative direction you'd like or ignore this request if you're not comfortable with it. Have a lovely day/night! <3

Again, I'm beyond sorry you were forced to wait for this so long! But here you go honey, let me know what you think <3

Yoriichi saving his pregnant wife and unborn child just in time

Pairing: Yoriichi x pregnant!wife!reader

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: You never expected to face a demon ever again, especially not when you are about to deliver your child while your beloved husband Yoriichi is in search for a midwife. Will you and your child be alright? Will your husband make it back on time?

Warnings: injury, horror, child birth, tortue, description of death, extreme angst to fluff, last part is not proofread

Notes: Since the first Yoriichi fic I wrote, I'm so deeply in love with his character that I adore writing him so much! Since this fic took a while, I would totally appreciate your support through liking, commenting and reblogging this fic - thank's a lot babes <3

He can’t get enough from simply looking at you. You with your head in the clouds, you with your hand mindlessly roaming around the soft grass underneath, the other one caressing your heavy pregnant belly, you when you give him those surprised eyes as soon as you notice his presence.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that you’re already here”, you say in a small panicky voice.

You didn’t expect your beloved husband back this soon. If you would have known that he’ll be here by know you would have cleaned the whole house, made him something to eat and-

“I can only imagine what is going on inside your head again.”

His soft but at the same time rough hand touches your cheek gently, the loving gleam in his fuchsia eyes making you blush in an instant. All the voices in your head stop right in their track when he’s around.

Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Your savior, your best friend. And most importantly, your husband and father of your future child.

“How are you feeling, love? Did you enjoy your afternoon?”, he questions, eyes wandering down your body to your swollen belly.

It was hard leaving you alone in a state like this, but he wasn’t able to resist the urgent call from last night. He might be nothing but another simple man holding a sword, but it is his responsibility to save those who are in need. What else is he able to give to this world?

His hand lands on your belly, feels the tiniest kick of his unborn child against the palm of his hand. At least he was able to create a smaller version of you. Is it a boy, a girl maybe?

“I hope our child is a reflection of you”, he finally mutters into the silence, a small but somehow sad smile forming itself on his lips.

You suddenly forget how to breathe, glossy eyes fixated on his captivating sight. Oh, oh much you hate the stinging fact that your husband thinks so negatively about himself. Why can’t he see all the heroic things he has done so far, how respected he is in the demon slayer corps? Why can’t he see that every inch of his body is flawless? Out of instinct, you let your head rest against his broad chest, breathe in his strong scent. If you could only stay like this here forever, his hand resting against your body while the sun tickles your skin-

A violent moan escapes your lips when a sharp pain runs through your stomach. A kick. A really rough kick, to be exact.

“Are you alright, love? Did something hurt you? Is it the baby?”, your husband asks feverishly, his usual neutral face garbled by worry lines on his forehead.

“Just a kick”, you press out, still fighting to regain your composure.

“I will search for a mid-wife, (y/n).”

His words make your eyes widen in an instant, a wave of fear crushing down on you. Is it really time already? You look down at your swollen belly, so big that you aren’t even able to sit down properly anymore. This has to be the ninth month of your pregnancy.

Your heart sinks. The ninth month. If the books you’ve read are accurate, it really is time.

“I can’t do this, Yoriichi.”

Thick panic runs through your veins, forces your heart almost out of your chest. You aren’t ready to deliver a child, let alone to be a mother. All the things you haven’t read yet, the things you’ve probably never heard of…What if you mess it up? Until you met Yoriichi, all you were able to do was trying to survive. Your mother never had the chance to tell you about those things, isn’t here anymore to stay by your side.

You are…on your own.

“Look at me, (y/n). I will go out and search for a mid-wife and I’ll be back at sunset, you hear me? Just stay inside the house and nothing will happen. I promise to return as early as possible.”

Fuchsia eyes that radiate through your soul immediately. An angelic voice that calms down your tingling nerves with only four sentences. Strong arms that lift you off the ground and lead you back into the warmth of your home.

But know, it’s not the wooden cabin that feels like home. Your eyes wander to the neutral expression he wears on his face, only betrayed by a worried glow in his orbs. It’s him, your beloved husband.

“Are you feeling alright, love?”

You take a deep breath in, a deep breath out. Eyes focused exclusively on him until your mind finally silences. It’s just you and him. You and your beloved husband, the man you would trust with your life without battling an eyelid, the man who made you the person you are today.

“I do”, you breathe out.

Your heartbeat tames down as well as the kicks of your unborn baby, Yoriichi’s hands keeping you from falling over.

“Promise me to lock the doors and wait in bed until I return, (y/n).”

A seriousness you only know from him when he is forced to leave at night veils his calm eyes.

“But…you will be back before the sun sinks, right?”

He gifts you a small smile, hand caressing your cheek so gently that you almost forget about the worry lines decorating his face. The truth is that the next midwife lives miles away. Even if he gets to the village as soon as possible, the sun will be about to set when he returns. Yoriichi can’t help but clench his other hand into a fist next to your stomach. The sheer thought of not making it in time, that you’ll be defenceless.

“Don’t worry, love. Rest your eyes and be assured that I’ll return as soon as possible.”

But he cannot allow himself to fail you, to leave you alone in those oh so merciless nights. He will return, no matter what it costs.

He presses a soft kiss against your forehead before grabbing his sword tightly.

This. This is his fate, his family. You are his whole life.

And he’ll do everything to protect you.

-later that evening-

You are exhausted. Over the last few hours, your body was haunted by waves of pain coming and going like the seasons. Again, you dig your nail into the wooden floor, your heavy breaths hanging in the thick air. You definitely don’t need a midwife to tell you it’s time. Yes, your baby is on its way.

And your husband didn’t return yet.

Your glossy eyes dart towards the window, witness how the sky outside turns bright red in the down-going sun. Is Yoriichi alright? You know how cruel life can be. Maybe he met a person who needed to be saved on his way, maybe the midwife is too old to rush to your side in time.

“Rest your eyes and be assured that I’ll return as soon as possible.”

Those words. Even though he’s not yet by your side, you are able to feel his powerful presence around you, how he calms down your aching heart.

“Everything will turn out alright”, you mutter to yourself while caressing your tummy.

“Everything will be alight…”

You allow your lids to rest, body relaxing for the first time since your husband left. You will get through this, you will deliver your wonderful child tonight. A tiny bundle of joy, an image of its father. Is it a boy, a girl? As long as your child is healthy, you couldn’t care less.

Carefully, you curl up on your futon, snuggle yourself into the blanket that still holds his scent. Maybe you’ll be able to catch a few hours of sleep until he finally comes back. Sleep sure does sound very appealing at the moment.

But just when your breath begins to steady, a violent scratch forces you to sit straight up. It came from outside, without a doubt. Is it an animal, is it…

Your throat gets tight immediately, glossy eyes staring at the closed window in sheer horror. The trees bend back and forth peacefully in what looks like a tender night. But that scratch, it sounded exactly like claws digging into hard wood, sent shivers down your spine immediately. You know that sound all too well, experienced what it means to get slaughtered by a demon before. Just before your whole family died violently, this was exactly what you’ve heard.

Out of instinct, you bury yourself into the corner of the room, the blanket that holds Yoriichi’s scent still pressed against your now shivering body tightly. Please, let it be nothing but a wild animal, let your husband come back home soon. Maybe this is nothing but a nightmare and you’ll wake up any given minute-

A violent pain runs through your body so suddenly that a shriek escapes your lips. Suddenly all air escapes your lungs, the way your belly cramps making you see start. No, you know exactly what this means, that this is not the right time to deliver a baby. Isn’t there anything you can do to stop this? You still need to wait for your husband, the midwife, for this gut-turning feeling to vanish. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, sharp and fast breaths hanging in the thick atmosphere.

But it doesn’t stop there. As if this wasn’t enough already, you can only stare at the door that gets opened painfully slow, claws digging into the wooden frame.

Without any doubt, this is a demon.

You press your sweaty palm against your mouth, force yourself to stop screaming, to stop breathing.

“I know you’re here, human. You smell like a…woman.”

It’s like all life is drained from the dead shell of your body, widened orbs staring at the frightful creature that makes its way into your home. Get up, fight, defend yourself like you saw Yoriichi do countless times, use the knowledge you gained from him.

But you don’t move an inch, don’t dare to look away. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still. Out of all the nights you’ve spent together with your husband, this is the first away from him, the first without his protection. Is all of this a dream, a hallucination to test your nerves?

The second the monster’s deadly red orbs meet yours, you get hit by reality. No, this isn’t a dream.

This will be your death.

“I knew you were here, lady. Let me help you up, okay?”

“N-no. Please d-don’t”, you whimper under your breath.

Your coward of a body doesn’t even fight back when he lifts you off the ground with ease, his nails digging into your soft flesh.

“Oh, you’re expecting a baby, don’t you? Well, does this count as a double kill, then?”

Your baby getting killed? If that thing ends your life, it means your unborn child will never experience dawn, will never get to see the face of its father, will never take in his scent. Your glossy eyes widen in sheer horror, tears now streaming down your face like waterfalls when a single frown form on your forehead.

You couldn’t care less about your own life. After all, you were lucky that Yoriichi saved you back then, didn’t even deserve to survive when your whole family had to die before you. But that oh so innocent child that might have the eyes of its father, the blessing of your life right after your husband. That innocent life cannot be taken.

There is no way you will let this creature lay hands on it.

Your body reacts faster than your mind. With a surprisingly well-placed kick, you free yourself out of the monster’s casual grip. You need to get out of the house, out where you are able to find shelter, to run away. Your lungs feel like bursting any given minute, legs trembling underneath the weight of yourself and the unborn baby you still carry right under your heart. Even if it means you’ll die in vain, even if you won’t be able to see Yoriichi’s tender eyes ever again, you have to make sure your child is safe.

“I underestimated you, stupid woman. As it seems you didn’t give up on life yet”, the creature purrs what feels like right next to you.

A new nauseous wave of panic rises up your veins, makes you sprint even faster through the thick woods that surround your house. This has always been your favorite place to be. The calm trees waving back and forth in a soft breeze, your husband right by your side-

Your husband. Just the thought of never getting to see him again makes your heart ache. You didn’t even get the chance to thank him one last time, to let him know how much he truly means to you, that he’s way more than the man who saved your life back then.

He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever needed.

A sharp pain that radiates through your lower body sends you straight onto the ground immediately, figure cramping so violently that you can’t catch your breath. No, this is not the time labor, not when a demon is this close.

“Oh, there you are. Did you really think you can run away like that? You, a little human? You made me so man that I will kill you as painfully slow as possible.”

You try to lift your trembling figure off the ground, try to get back onto your feet, to sprint down the forest you know so well. But just when you’re about to get back onto your knees, a stinging pain in your right thigh paired with a contraction sends you straight back.

A violent scream escapes your lips.

Red. Everything around you is discoloured red. Is this your blood? Did this thing kill you already, are you going to die? Despite the way your guts start to turn when you follow the trail of blood, you can’t look away. And there it is indeed, a gaping hole in your leg, throbbing and bleeding.

All color that is left now drains from your face. With an injured leg, your chance to escape this demon’s claws is non-existent. Which means…

Your heart skips a beat, threatens to fail you any given second. What about your unborn child? A violent storm of anger and determination clouds your mind, makes all logical thoughts vanish into thin air.

“You can’t kill me”, you press out.

Since the day you first laid eyes on a demon, you accepted your own death. Your life is worthless anyway, compared to great warriors like your husband himself. But that oh so innocent child, that tiny life you were given to. You ball your hands into fists so tight your knuckles stand out white and lift your throbbing self off the ground. You cannot allow a demon to take the life of that unborn baby.

“I won’t allow you to touch me.”

You realize the stupidity of your words after they spill out of your mouth in rage. You, not allowing a demon to touch your puny figure? Another contraction makes your guts turn and vision almost go black.

As expected the frightful creature draws closer, its unpromising pair of razor-sharp teeth glittering in the dim moonlight. You never expected to see a demon this close again. Oh, how much you hoped you’d never find yourself in that situation again. But you have to get through this, have to make sure you will survive long enough for the mid wife to deliver your child to this world.

His child.

“I’m sorry Yoriichi. I never planned on leaving you alone like this”, you mumble to yourself, shaky lips tinted in salty tears.

“But this all I’m able to do.”

-Yoriichi’s POV-

Something seems off. Is it the way the trees bent back and forth in the soft breeze of the already set sun? Is it that distant smell that hangs in the air, the one that reminds him of fresh blood and lavender?

“We must make haste. I can sense that danger is ahead of us”, he speaks out with firm voice.

He promised you that he’ll be back before the sun goes down, that he will make it on time before demon are able to roam around freely. Are you feeling alright? Is the pain unbearable at this point? Do you still hold trust for him in your heart? His footsteps pick up instinctively, eyes set on the visibly stressed man behind him. In contrary to most people, Yoriichi doesn’t fear the night or the demons it brings. The only thing he fears at the moment is what you have to endure without your husband by your side.

With every he takes forward, the stinging smell of blood mixed with lavender becomes more urgent in his nose.

Lavender.

He always wondered how you did it. Even after washing, all your clothes kept that calming scent that surrounded you as if you were standing in a lavender bush. A smell so sweet that it caught his interest back then before he caught a glimpse of your fascinating orbs, a smell that always reminds him of home. Yoriichi’s home will always be where you are, where the sensation of lavender is the strongest.

Lavender, the stinging smell of blood that hangs in the air. His eyes widen when his mind starts to race. The smell, it radiates from the direction of your shared home, from the direction that usually fills him with excitement. Can it be…?

His heart starts racing uncontrollably while he dashes forward and draws his sword. Let it be nothing but coincidence, a cruel joke his thoughts play on him. But the stinging fragrance of lavender mixed with iron fills his heart with dread, makes his mind go numb. What if you got attacked by a demon, what if you are in great danger? All because he didn’t live up to his promise, because he didn’t make it on time. His eyes roam around the dark area, desperately searching for a sign.

And then his eyes find you.

Yoriichi’s heart stops.

There you lay, leaning against a nearby tree with a puddle of blood surrounding you, widened eyes starring straight into the face of a demon who hollers above you.

“No one is coming to save you, stupid girl.”

He doesn’t waste another second. With a swift motion of his sharp blade, Yoriichi beheads the demon on top of you while a toe-curling scream escapes your lips. Just one look at your sliced-up kimono reveals countless injuries, especially a gaping hole in your thigh. You hold onto your swollen belly for what looks like dear life, eyes still widened in nothing but shock.

“(y/n)”, he gently speaks out while letting himself fall down next to you.

You have to blink a few times. The demon, it was just about to dig its sharp teeth into your sensitive skin, to take the life of your unborn child in front of your eyes.

Maroon.

But those aren’t the deadly red orbs. No, those oh so gorgeous eyes look so familiar that your heart tames down in an instant. Could it really be, is it possible that it’s…him?

“Yoriichi.”

You breathe his name into the night like a prayer.

Maybe this is nothing but an illusion, a cruel trick your own brain plays on you.

“Words can’t express how sorry I am for arriving too late. I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone this long, for causing this to happen”, his oh so familiar voice blurts out.

Yoriichi’s usual so composed face twists in sheer agony, eyes filling with salty tears. All of this is his fault. He should have arrived sooner, he should have made hurry, he-

“We didn’t come this far to worry now. Please, help be delivering this child, let it all make sense”, you press out while grabbing his hand tightly.

It doesn’t matter that you’re severely injured, it doesn’t matter that your beloved husband took longer than expected to come back to you. All that matters now are you, him and your unborn child that waits to be delivered.

“Allow me to assist you.”

A foreign man suddenly speaks out with sweat dripping from his forehead in waterfalls. Just when another wave of nauseous pain hits you with full force, as if you got kicked into your stomach by a horse. You fail to breathe for a second, hands holding onto your husband for dear life.

“You are already close, it won’t be long now”, the man reassures you while gently opening your legs.

“You can do it, (y/n). After all the things you had to endure today, you will be able to get through this. With me by your side. I love you more than any words could ever say, darling.”

One more push.

One more wave of pain before your body goes numb, before you lose the ability to feel anything except for sweet nothingness.

Until a loud shriek finds its way to your ear.

A violent scream, almost frustrating. When you open your eyes again, you are greeted by a crying but alive bundle of joy, carefully wrapped into a white cloth and placed onto the arm of its father.

Those eyes.

“I prayed every night that he would have your eyes”, you whimper with tears running down your cheek uncontrollably.

You did it. You saved your beloved child who looks just like its father, you managed to somehow stay alive.

“She”, the midwife corrects you gently.

“She…”, you mumble with a small smile.

The last thing you see are the troubled maroon eyes of your husband before your world goes dark.

-the next day-

A foreign but still so familiar laughter fills the atmosphere around you with joy while you see nothing but black. When your stubborn lids finally open, you are greeted by the wooden ceiling you know so well. This is your home, without any doubt.

The home a demon invaded.

The home where you feared for your life while your husband rushed to the midwife in order to deliver your child.

Your child.

You get up way too quickly, glossy eyes darting around the room without a real aim. Is your baby okay? What happened after the delivery? All you can remember are those familiar maroon eyes that looked so much like the orbs of your beloved husband. Your husband…Where is Yoriichi?

“Don’t move too quickly, love. The doctor strictly forbids you to be in a haste”, his gentle voice speaks out next to you.

Just a few moments later, you get invited by the warmth of his arms swallowing you whole. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall against him, press your very own body into his despite the scorching pain that immediately takes over your whole self.

Right, you were attacked by a demon the night you gave birth. How did you manage to escape? Are your injuries critical.

But most important: How is your baby?

“Look what you have accomplished. A little wonder. Just like you, my love”, your husband murmurs, carefully lifting a little bundle off a blanket nearby.

Your heart nearly stops when you catch a glimpse of her. Those maroon eyes are the last thing you remember before everything goes black. With shaky hands, you start caressing her puffy cheek. This. This is what you fought for, what makes it all worth it in the end.

“She has your eyes”, you hush, tears now streaming down your face in waterfalls.

“And your hair”, Yoriichi replies with a soft smile towards you.

“(y/n), I promise I’ll do anything in my power to protect you and her from something like this. I promise I will stand by your side no matter what. And I hope that someday, you will be able to forgive me for not being there for you when you needed me the most.”

The second your husband’s voice cracks, you can’t hold onto yourself any longer. You wrap your arms around him and your daughter longingly, take in the scent who gave you strength that night.

“There is nothing to forgive and nothing to feel sorry about. You did your very best and that is all that matters. I love you, Yoriichi. And I have to thank you for saving both of us just in time.”

“You are my greatest treasure on earth”, he mumbles against your lips while giving you a passionate kiss.

What a plot twist, what a happy end after all. Yesterday you were sure your life is over, that you won’t live onto the next day. And now you’re lying in your house, holding your giggling daughter while pressing your heavy head against your husband’s broad chest.

“Well, I fear I will have to share this special place by now”, you comment while gazing at your perfect little daughter.

“This might be true, love.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san

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bl4cktourmaline · 2 days

Note

How about Furina realising she can get together with and marry the person she liked when she was an archon now that's she's human?

(ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ — furina

✿ — ♬ ⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ : x is typing... ✉!

✿ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : Furina realizing she could be together with the person she loved the most.

✿ — ♯ GENRE : Bittersweet

✿ — ⊜ CW : Nil

✿ — ↠ NOTE : Hi hi anon~! Thanks for requesting this :3 I really had fun writing this and I hope you'll have a good time reading this fic too! Remember to hydrate and take care<3 Sorry for this fic taking forever too ! TT

If you'd like to request click 'here' and read the writing rules for each writer !

✿ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, in doing so will motivate us to continue delivering stories to you, thank you for all of your supports ~ !

✿ — ♭ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ... : ...no one..

✿ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Furina x reader [Headcanons/Drabbles]

𝅘𝅥𝅯 During the times when Furina was an Archon, she was forced to uphold her arrogant personality like her people wanted and expected out of a god. However when she met [y/n].. It was different.

𝅘𝅥𝅯 [Y/n] was a part of Chioriya Boutique who worked under Chiori to help her produce outfits and fetch materials. It wasn't often they get to see the Hydro Archon, but when they do, [y/n] had always treated her like a normal fontainian and didn't flounder whenever she was near them. Not even caring that she was an Archon.

𝅘𝅥𝅯 This made Furina want to act selfishly and make [y/n] hers. However, due to her circumstances of needing to play her role. She was unable to make the relationship into a romantic one.

𝅘𝅥𝅯 When she found out the prophecy was false and that she could stop pretending as an Archon. She quickly went into hiding, afraid of what you'll think of her being a 'fake' god.

SPLISH SPLASH! SPLISH SPLASH!

[Y/n] was currently near the Opera Epiclese. Although fontaine had just flooded, and you should probably get home before catching a cold. They decided to look for her.

'I wonder where my dear Furina went..'

[Y/n] sigh, knowing she probably went into hiding due to the fear of what they might've thought of her, being a 'fake' god.

[Y/n] checked every place, being the Opera where trials are usually held, to even the place she resided in.

[Y/n] had no choice but to request and acquire help from the ludex to inquire help of where their dear friend could be.

..Only to find out she had moved out, after a week of searching for her in fontaine.

Now [y/n] was standing in front of one of the most ordinary buildings that is in front of the blacksmith. Though [y/n] thought they should probably get curtains for her, they could see her entire home from outside..

Knock Knock Knock

...

"Furina, I know you're not sleeping.."

Click!

The door slowly opened, revealing a short white-haired girl dressed in blue and black. Furina looked oddly embarrassed and just kept hands at her back, before looking at [y/n] with a more confident pose.

"[Y-Y/n]! Fancy meeting you here aha..."

"Furina.. I know you've been actively avoiding me, since I was searching for you for a week."

"O-oh really? I guess we kept missing each other-"

"You're a terrible liar.. Though I'm glad you're looking fine. Have you been eating and resting well?"

'They.. were worried about me? Even after I lied to them- no, everyone, about being an archon..'

"Uhm yeah! I've been making macaroni's to eat."

"Just 'macaroni'?"

"Yeah! With different sauces of course.."

[Y/n] sighed, before taking her hand and dragging her out of her house.

"[Y/n]?! Where are you taking me?"

"To a restaurant of course, it'll be my treat since I've received my paycheck."

[Y/n] suddenly felt a tug, looking back, seeing that Furina had stopped. Before [y/n] could ask her why she stopped, she posed a question.

"..Why are you being so nice to me? I lied to you about being an archon.. I can't even give you anything in return now.."

"Is it not obvious? I always see you as a friend. Not an archon, now come on, eating macaroni every day isn't healthy!"

Furina's eyes widden a bit before regaining their composure. That was probably the reason why she fell in love with you.

'Oh right.. Since I'm now a regular human, I can marry [y/n]!'

"Hey [y/n]? Can I tell you something?"

"Hm? What is it?"

"I-"

Furina choked on her voice.

"I-it's nothing. I just wanted to tell you thank you.. And that I appreciate you."

'It's fine.. Marry [y/n]? You're such a fool Furina, you should be just be content with being friends with [y/n]. They deserve someone better than a person who lied about being an archon.'

"I'm glad I met you Furina"

[Y/n] smiled blushing a little.

"Let's go get food together, okay? My treat!"

"Let's."

'Maybe.. In another universe, you could be mine.'

#｡⊹˚x; writing ˏˋ꒰❄️꒱˚彡๑ #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #furina x you #furina x reader #furina x y/n #genshin furina #furina genshin #furina #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact furina

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guacamoleroll · 3 days

Note

could you do jouno with "car sex" and "don't look at me like that and then feign innocence" prompts pleasee?

content. f!reader. not-safe for work content (MDNI 18+), jealousy, degradation, edging, car sex. not proofread.

author's note. i experimented a bit out of my comfort zone and changed into mainly present tense, so hopefully it's still good .ᐟ i actually enjoy jouno as a character, so hopefully i can write more for him someday.

would you like to see more? fill out the updated taglist or comment here!

"Fu-uck, Jouno," you whimper, head thrown back, arms trembling as you grasp onto the car seats, your back curling at the stirring sensation in your guts.

"Quiet."

A sharp slap to your ass from a gloved hand stirs a guttural groan from your lips, your entire body aflame as your muscles strain to bounce on the white-haired man's cock, over and over in a repetitive cycle as he tugs on the collar of your uniform.

"Did you really think I'd just stand by and watch as you flirted with that criminal?" he mutters, his anger brandishing through the bruising grip on your hip as he continues to pull on your uniform, causing you to go breathless.

You, in fact, had assumed he would stand there and watch, as it had been part of your shared interrogation plan. The criminal could not keep his eyes off you throughout your original questioning, so you two sought to deliver an altered good-cop, bad-cop so that he'd release more information. What you hadn't expected was your lover's jealous response, though you couldn't quite find it in yourself to mind as he thrusted up into you, uncaring if the vehicle started to shake.

At least the windows are tinted.

His pace increases as your pussy starts to flutter around him, his cock delving deep between your folds as your breath begins to shallow out, your hips instinctually grinding down into him to bottom out.

"You're close, aren't you?" his voice melts into a mocking coo. "You wanna cum?"

"Please, Jouno—"

Your cut off as he drives his cock up, his hands locking your hips in place as he drives you to the edge of climaxing—and then he stops. The sudden departure from pleasure leaves you breathless, shivering as you try to compose yourself, turning to him with torn eyes that brim with frustration.

"Don't look at me like that and then feign innocence," he says harshly. However, he still massaged the tense muscles of your back as you started to relax and loosen up, allowing him to slip his cock back into his trousers as you managed to retain the smallest amount of respectability.

"Clean yourself up. We're expected back at headquarters," he says before smirking. "We'll have to finish your punishment later."

You hope that you'll be able to find a change of clothes before your meeting.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @imhandicapableofmath @ishqani @squigglewigglewoo @lovedazai @deepseafragments @osameowdazai @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @chyozai @fyorina @meiluvrr

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#ʚ calliope's confectionary ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#f!reader #꒰ა ⎼ [jouno]#✉︎ ⎼ [@saigikusgf] ‧₊˚#౨ৎ˚ ⎼ [afterhours]#bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #jouno saigiku #jouno saigiku x reader #jouno bsd #jouno x reader #jouno smut #bsd smut

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krirebr · 1 day

Text

More Than This 5

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, all of the Thrombeys being really awful actually, explicit language, references to bad sex, flagrant disregard for HIPAA (actually, just assume that HIPAA doesn't exist in this universe), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Oh god. I promise that there will be a point when this isn't so sad all the time and that point is soon. But it also isn't today. I'm so sorry. 😬

Huge thanks as always to @paperweight91 who listened to me whine and read countless fuzzy screenshots, and gave great advice and was just all around awesome. And to @stargazingfangirl18 who reached out with encouragement when the words just weren't coming.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Ransom had the complete collection of Harlan’s books. You couldn’t say exactly why that surprised you, but it did. He even had the two poorly-received romance novels Harlan had written under a pseudonym. You hadn’t known the two of them were so close, but then again, you still didn’t really know anything about Ransom.

So that’s what you’d been doing with your days, making your way through Harlan’s complete works. You were currently reading one about an au pair that had been found dead in her charge’s locked nursery when your phone rang.

Your brow furrowed. The list of people who ever contacted you had gotten much shorter since you’d moved to Boston. Steve, Ransom, Linda unfortunately. That was pretty much it. You looked down at your phone to see your mother’s name. Oh.

You’d expected her to reach out in some way since your wedding and had tried very hard not to feel hurt when she hadn’t. Everyone’s lives had moved on. You were the only one stuck. But you still hadn’t had it in you to be the one who called her. You took a deep breath and answered your phone.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Honey! How are you?”

You kept in your sigh. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good, good,” she said, but she sounded sad. She always sounded so fucking sad. It struck you then, that that’s probably how you’d sound too, in ten or twenty years. Maybe less. Probably a lot less. “It’s so nice to hear your voice honey.”

“Yeah,” you said, and, pathetically, you could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes. You weren’t angry with her. You couldn’t be. It wasn’t her fault she was so broken. It was inevitable. For all of you. And your frustration with her didn’t change how much you missed her. Missed home. Missed the way things used to be. “It’s good to hear you too.”

“I know it’s been a while,” she said softly, “but I wanted to give you a chance to get settled. How are things going?”

“They’re going fine,” you said quietly. You paused. You didn’t want to say anything bad or worry anyone, but also it was your mom. “I don’t know. It’s different here. I don’t have anything to do.”

She just chuckled. “Cherish that. It’ll change soon and then you’ll miss this time.” You didn’t know what to say to that so you didn’t say anything. After a few moments of silence, she continued. “And how’s Ransom?”

You stifled a groan. You didn’t want to talk about him. Things had been… better since your panic attack. He came home at a decent hour regularly. You fucked most nights now. But he was still just this looming presence. You didn’t know what to do with him. “He’s fine,” you said with a shrug.

That was apparently the wrong answer, judging by the little hum she made. “I know it’s hard at the beginning. When I first married your father–” she cut herself off with a deep breath. “Remember, honey, keeping him happy is your one job now. It’ll get easier the longer you do it.”

A few tears finally broke free and fell down your cheeks. “I don’t– I don’t know him. I don’t know what makes him happy.”

“Then finding out will be a good use of your free time, won’t it?” You glanced at the book beside you, feeling shamed in spite of yourself. “I know it feels so hard, but men are shockingly easy. They just want to be taken care of. That’s all you have to do. Make him dinner. Keep his home warm. Give him heirs. Don’t argue. That’s all. You’re going to be such a good wife to him, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

You shrunk down into the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees, making yourself as small as possible. You hated this. Hated that she didn’t want more for you. That she’d never tried to give you more. But you were tired, too, of being upset with her for not doing the impossible. What else was she supposed to have done? What else could she give you when she didn’t have anything herself? “Ok,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.

“Joseph says hello, of course,” she said, and you wanted to laugh. He’d done no such thing. “He’s so proud that you’ve made such a good match. He’ll be happy to hear it’s going well.”

“Mmm,” was all you were able to say. You hated this. You couldn’t do it anymore. “It’s so good to hear from you, mom. But uh, I have to– I have to go.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Well, alright. I miss you so much, sweetheart. We’ll talk again soon. I love you.”

You could barely hold the tears back now. “I love you too,” you said, your voice thick. “Bye.” The moment you hung up the phone, the damn broke. You couldn’t stop it. You cried for your mom. You cried for yourself. You cried for the way everything had changed and there was no going back. You cried because this was a day when it felt like no one on earth was on your side. A shaking Lola forced her way into your lap and you held her until you were able to calm down.

Once you’d stopped crying, you looked around. You couldn’t sit still, your mother’s words ringing in your ears. Your eyes locked on the kitchen. That was something you could do. You glanced at the time. If Ransom came home at his new regular time, it would be tight, but you could do it if you made something simple. But not too simple. Something that showed effort. That you were trying.

You got up and looked in the fridge. All those tidy little glass containers full of meals his housekeeper, Carol, made. You’d never felt like they were taunting you before, but now. Now you wanted to smash them. You could do this. You could make him like you. Show him what you were worth. You could make yourself a life better than your mother’s, maybe. Get him on your side.

There weren’t a ton of raw ingredients, but after combing through the entire contents of the fridge and pantry, you found what you’d need for a decent spaghetti. Carol was probably planning it for later in the week. Well, now she wouldn’t have to. You’d do it yourself.

You put some music on and got to work. Losing yourself in the prep. But you’d lost yourself too much maybe, because you were still chopping when Ransom walked in the door.

Lola, of course, rushed to greet him. It still rankled. She didn’t realize that one wrong move would have him kicking her out. His words from that first dinner had never left your mind. But a few days ago, he’d started reaching down to pet her as she danced around him. You didn’t know what either of them were playing at.

He looked at you, now trying to hurry through the rest of your prep, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m making dinner,” you said, gesturing to all your work obviously. You looked at the time. You weren’t slow. He was early. Why the fuck was he early? He was ruining all your plans.

“Why?” he asked as he took off his coat, then shoes. “Carol’s put plenty of meals in the fridge.”

“Because I wanted to!” You said, your knife coming down on the onion under your hand too hard.

The knife hitting the cutting board caught his attention. He looked at what you were doing. “I don’t like onions.”

You threw down the knife more carelessly than you should have. It slid across the cutting board before coming to a stop at the edge of the counter. “Then why were they in the pantry?!”

“How should I know?!” he shouted back, matching your tone. But then he looked at you and stopped. “Have you been crying? What happened?”

You froze. Shit. You hadn’t even thought to check what you looked like. You swiped at your face and turned away. “It’s the onions. Obviously.”

“Your face– that looks like more than onions.” He now stood at the edge of the kitchen, only the island between you.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, then forced yourself to take a breath. “My mom called,” you conceded. “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” was all he said for a moment and then, “You and your parents are close then?”

You couldn’t explain why the question irritated you so much. Maybe it was the assumption of homesickness. Or referring to Joseph as your parent. Or just him being here earlier than he was supposed to be, asking you anything. You couldn’t keep the shortness out of your voice when you responded, “My mom. Sometimes.”

You looked around at your progress, the mess you’d made, the onions he didn’t want. So much for keeping him happy. What a stupid idea. You felt done. Over everything. You began cleaning up all the food, scooping it into the garbage.

“What are you doing?”

“I changed my mind! You don’t want any of this anyway. Have one of Carol’s fucking dinners.”

“The fuck is going on with you?!” he shouted as he watched you clean up the kitchen.

“I changed my mind,” you repeated, throwing the cutting board into the sink. “I’m not hungry. I’m going upstairs.” You stomped over to the staircase.

“You’re not going to eat anything?” he called after you.

“No! I’m fine!” You shouted as you took the first few stairs.

“Yeah, you sure seem fucking fine,” he grumbled as he headed to the fridge.

You stopped and glared at him. “Wake me if I’m asleep when you come up. I’m ovulating, so. Tonight’s important.”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah,” he said, flatly. “I got your text.” That was news to you. He'd never responded to it. As you turned to continue up the stairs, you heard him add under his breath, “Although I’m not sure why you feel like you need to be awake for it.”

You stopped and turned around, coming back down a step. “What was that?!”

He turned to you, one of Carol’s glass containers in his hand, and sighed. “Nothing. I’ve had a long day.” You just stared at each other and then he added, “Aren’t you tired of it being such a chore?”

Something crumpled in you at that, but you didn’t want to stop and look at what it was. “Well,” you said. “The sooner I’m pregnant, the sooner it won’t be.” Then you turned and stomped the rest of the way upstairs.

When he woke you later that night, he was already ready to go. You didn’t even take off your pajamas, just slid your shorts down to your calves. He was right. It was a chore.

It was a few days later when he texted you in the middle of the day. You were hiding in the bedroom while Carol cleaned downstairs. She was still mad that you’d wasted the spaghetti ingredients. You were reading in bed with Lola when your phone buzzed beside you.

Big family thing at Harlan’s on Saturday. We’ll be expected.

For some reason, it was the ‘we’ that caught you. It was the first time you’d realized you were a package deal now. If Ransom was invited somewhere, you would accompany him. And vice versa if you were ever invited anywhere. You couldn’t imagine it, with how small your world had gotten.

The rest of his message caught up with you. His family. Linda had reached out multiple times since her awful visit. Every time you spoke to her, you got so small. You worried that prolonged exposure to her might cause you to completely disappear.

Aside from his parents, you’d barely interacted with the rest of his family at the wedding. It would be fine. You would be fine. You’d have to be. They were your family now too. You’d be seeing so much of them. For the rest of your life. You ignored how much your chest tightened at that thought.

Saturday came too soon.

Ransom paced around the bedroom while you both got ready. You’d never seen him like this before. He wasn’t dressed. He just kept walking in and out of his closet. And looking at you. You didn’t know if you were doing something wrong. He didn’t say anything, he just couldn’t keep still. The one time you’d asked if he was alright, he’d barked back at you that he was fine, so you hadn’t asked again.

Watching him pace around was making you even more anxious than you already were. So you focused all you could on getting yourself ready. You’d asked Ransom earlier if his family dressed for dinner and he’d just grunted in response. But it felt like a no, so you wore one of your favorite day dresses. It was your favorite color. You hoped it would give you confidence. You did your hair. You put diamond studs in your ears, with a matching tennis bracelet on your wrist. Reasonable heels on your feet. A spritz of perfume on your pulse points. It was the best you could do without more information.

You stood in the middle of the bedroom once you were done. Ransom was still undressed, still moving. “Uh,” you ventured, hesitantly, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “Will we have enough time to get there?”

“Who gives a shit?” he growled, thundering back into his closet. A few moments later he came back out, wearing dress slacks and a cream cable-knit sweater. There were holes in it. You could see them clearly from the other side of the room.

“Ransom,” you said softly, oddly feeling like you were speaking to a spooked animal, “don’t you think that sweater’s a little worn?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he rasped. “Let’s go.” Then he was out of the room and halfway down the stairs, with you scrambling to keep up behind him.

The drive to Harlan’s country estate was mostly silent. You’d tried to turn on the radio at one point, but Ransom just turned it right back off. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his hands were bright red. You wondered if he was hurting himself. You didn’t know why he was so stressed. You were the one about to walk into the lion’s den, the one who had no idea what was waiting for you. It was his family. He’d be fine. You had no idea if you would be. You rested your hands in your lap, clutching them, and settled into the silence.

You knew that Harlan lived quite a ways out of town, but you still got to his home much too quickly. The large mansion loomed over you as Ransom parked his car amongst the others in the drive. He turned off the ignition and then just sat there, staring ahead. Just as you were about to call his name, he slapped the steering wheel harshly with one hand then growled “Let’s go!” to you and got out of the car. Once again, you scrambled after him, but this time, he slowed, slightly, to let you catch up. Once you had, he put a firm hand on the small of your back and ushered you up the path and into the house. You didn’t have time to react to that or try to figure out what on earth he was doing before you were greeted by a woman Ransom snidely called Franny. She responded with a very curt “Hugh” of her own then introduced herself to you as the housekeeper. She took your coats, and then Ransom’s hand was back on you, guiding you into a sitting room.

The entire family was already there, most with drinks in hand, and they all turned to watch you enter. You felt pinned by their gazes. “Well!” Ransom’s uncle Walt called out. “Look who finally decided to show. And just in time for the food, of course!”

Ransom stiffened slightly beside you then smirked. “Well, thank god we’re in time for your fifth drink, Walt. Who’d want to miss that?”

Walt scowled as he got up from his seat, then lumbered across the room, knocking his shoulder into Ransom’s as he passed and jostling you in the process. You started to sway a little, and Ransom’s hand immediately came to your hip to try to steady you. Your gaze flitted down to it, but just as quickly it was gone.

Everyone else began to get up and make their way out of the room. Meg, at least, gave you a small smile and wave, but otherwise, you were mostly ignored. That was, at least, until there were only three people left, Ransom’s parents and Harlan.

Harlan immediately hugged you. “It’s wonderful to see you, my dear. You look so lovely.” He took a step back to look at you both. “I trust you’re taking good care of each other. This is one of the most important times in your marriage. I hope you’re cherishing it.”

“Sure Grandad,” Ransom snarked, “we’re loving being married to a complete stranger.”

“Ah, now, you’ll only remain strangers if you let that happen.”

You saw Ransom about to open his mouth to say something else, so you jumped in with a quiet, “Thank you, Harlan, we really appreciate that.”

Harlan smiled at you, big and genuine, and then clapped Ransom on the shoulder. “See, my boy,” he said. “I knew she was exactly what you needed!”

Ransom’s jaw ticked but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t know how to respond either. Harlan’s kindness had a way of making you feel invisible.

Linda stepped up to you all then. “Darling,” she said, her tone dripping friendliness in a way that made you brace for impact. “I see not even your positive influence can make my son be on time. How disappointing.” She added a little chuckle onto the end, but you took it as the reprimand it was meant to be. You pasted on your most benign smile, but as always, she made you feel about a foot tall. You had no idea how anyone thought you were supposed to make this man do anything. Like he cared about what you thought or wanted. Like you had any power at all.

“Is that why you married me off, mother?” Ransom asked, matching her friendly tone, but when you looked up at him, his eyes were hard. “So there’d be someone to handle me?”

“Well,” she said, a placid smile on her face to match your own, “someone has to. Lord knows you haven’t listened to me in years.”

“And yet,” Ransom said, his tone dropping all friendliness, “you still got me here, didn’t you?”

The look on his face startled you. You’d never seen him this angry. Without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. At your touch, his eyes snapped to yours. You weren’t sure exactly what he found there, you felt lost enough that you couldn’t imagine your expression was much help, but after staring at you for what felt like an age, he gave you the smallest nod and relaxed his posture.

“We don’t want dinner to get cold,” Harlan called from the doorway.

Linda straightened, finally ending the standoff with her son. “Yes, of course,” she said. Then she looked at you, really looked, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking in all of you and everything you were wearing. She quirked her eyebrow at you and let out a distinctly judgemental little hum. Then that friendly smile was back and she turned away from you. “Oh, Dad, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” she said as they both left the room.

You stared after her. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong. You’d looked at everyone when you’d arrived and confirmed that you weren’t under or overdressed. She herself was wearing a simple but smart pantsuit. Your clothes were nice, clean, and pressed. You were put together. What could her problem possibly be? You tried to breathe but you could still feel her looking at you and your chest was so tight.

You were brought back to the present by Richard wrapping you in a hug. His lips brushed your cheek as he said, “So nice to see you again, honey.” Then one of his hands on your back traveled lower until it grazed the top of your ass. You couldn’t help the way you jumped.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?” Ransom shouted next to you. “I’m standing right here!”

Richard pulled away and you took a deep breath at being free of him. What the hell had just happened?

“What?” Richard rounded on his son. “I can’t greet my daughter-in-law? You’re so sensitive, Ransom. A little attention is flattering, isn’t it, honey?”

They were both staring at you. You knew you needed to say something but all you could do in your shock was gape at them.

Ransom wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you close to him. “You’re a fucking creep,” he growled.

Richard just scowled and made his way to the hall. “Disrepectful little shit,” he muttered as he left the room.

It wasn’t until his father was completely gone that Ransom dropped his arm from around you. He looked you right in the eye, his face so serious, as he asked, “Are you ok?” And there was something in his tone, fear maybe, that startled you just as much as Richard’s hand.

“I’m fine,” you nodded, your voice shaking only the slightest bit. When he still didn’t release you from his gaze, you brushed your fingers over his arm. “I’m alright.”

Finally, he nodded but didn’t really relax. “He’s–” he began, but cut himself off. “Just, watch out for him.”

“Ok,” you said, trying to sound strong. Reassuring. Ransom still just stood there. “Are– are you alright?”

That seemed to bring him out of wherever he’d been. “What?” he asked, somewhat sharply. “Yeah, of course. Come on,” he said, turning to the doorway. “Let’s get this shitshow over with.”

Everyone else was already seated at the large dining room table when you came in. Ransom guided you over to the two empty chairs in the middle of one side and pulled yours out for you before seating himself. The catering staff moved around the table setting down plates and pouring wine for everyone. But when the server got to you, they moved past you without pouring anything. In case you were pregnant. Of course. That was fine. You just hoped no one else noticed.

“I’m sorry,” Ransom said from beside you and your stomach dropped. “Is there a reason my wife isn’t being served wine tonight?”

“Ransom,” you whispered, still hoping everyone would just ignore it, but it was too late.

From the other side of the table, Walt piped up liked he’d just been waiting for an opportunity. “Maybe the staff got confused and didn’t realize she’s old enough to drink.” His eyes sparkled and he grinned, proud of himself, as it took every muscle in your body not to shrink down in your seat.

“Great catch, Walt! You’re right. She is still much younger than me. Like I said before, and I’m sure I’ll have to say again, neither of us chose this. I would’ve thought that’d be a concept you’re familiar with, seeing as how you practically begged Harlan not to make you marry Donna.”

“Ransom!” you admonished quietly. Your eyes cut to the willowy blonde sitting next to Walt, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You had no doubt that he deserved this, but you had no idea if she did.

Ransom’s eyes cut to you. “You’re right,” he said, before looking back at his aunt and uncle. “I should be nicer to Donna. I’m sure being married to Walt is punishment enough.”

“You little shit!” Walt responded. “I’ll have you know my wife is very happy. Which I’m sure is more than you can say for yours! What’s it been, a month? Two? And she already looks completely miserable.”

You felt all eyes turn to you again and you weren’t sure you’d ever felt more self-conscious in your life. Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t say anything, so you picked up your fork and took a bite of the fish you’d just been served. It didn’t taste like anything.

From your left, Joanie spoke up. “Hey, those first few months of marriage are hard. But so rewarding. I know when Neal and I were first married–”

“Yes, Joanie,” Linda cut in, dryly. “My brother was a saint and we all miss him very much.” She turned back to her son. “There’s no need to get upset, Ransom. We just didn’t want to accidentally serve a pregnant woman alcohol. Better safe than sorry.” She picked up her own fork to begin eating. “Speaking of, if the two of you have an announcement to make, now’d be the perfect time.”

You couldn’t stop your grimace. Ransom stiffened next to you, then answered, “No. No announcement.”

“It’ll come,” Harlan finally joined in from his place at the head of the table. “There’s still plenty of time.”

From the other end of the table, a teenage boy you’d never even met before said, “Maybe not. Maybe she’s barren.” And you felt all the wind go out of you.

“Oh fuck off, you little incel shit!” Ransom shouted.

“She isn’t barren, Jacob,” Linda said, calmly. “We have all her medical records to confirm she’s perfectly fertile.”

You could’ve sworn you blacked out at the moment. You’d known, on some level, that if there was a clause in the contract, it’d come with some sort of confirmation that, at least on your side, it was even possible. But to know that they had your medical records and now were discussing them like you weren’t even here, like you just didn’t matter… You hoped the earth might open up and swallow you whole.

You felt a gentle hand land on your knee but it didn’t really register. Nothing did. You didn’t know where the conversation went from there. You couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in your ears. It was all you could do to keep breathing. But you knew they all kept sniping at each other. And you felt the anger radiating off of Ransom the entire time.

The clinking of plates and scraping of chairs finally got you out of your stupor as the family got out of their chairs and staff started clearing the dishes. You looked over at Ransom, for help or support maybe, you didn’t really know. But he also looked like he’d gone somewhere else. He could barely meet your gaze.

You were still numb as people made their way back to the original sitting room. You just needed to make it through the rest of the evening. You could do that. Just as you had gotten to the other room, Harlan stopped Ransom with a hand on his shoulder. “I’d like a word in private with you, my boy.”

Ransom looked at you for a moment, then sighed and said softly, “I’ll be right back,” before following his grandfather deeper into the house.

And then you were alone. You were at a loss as to what to do with yourself, so you went back into the sitting room and settled on a vacant couch. Not everyone had migrated there. There were only a few people in the room now. Jacob sat in the corner, hunched over his phone, but every once in a while he would look up, catch your eye, and smirk at you. It had you sliding further back in your seat. His mother was no help. Donna was slumped over in an armchair, still cradling half a glass of wine. Meg had already shrugged on her coat, giving a hurried wave as she moved through the room. And Richard–

Richard sat down next to you. You slid down the couch as subtly as you could. “You know,” he said, “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you at the wedding.”

Alarm bells went off through your whole body. You saw Ransom’s face again, from earlier. How angry, yes, but more than that ashamed and unsurprised. How he’d looked at you. How he’d asked if you were ok. How it’d felt urgent. “It was a busy day,” you gritted out, trying to think of any way to get yourself out of this room.

“Ransom is a very lucky man,” he said, inching closer, his arm draped over the back of the couch, “to have such a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled uncomfortably. “That’s very sweet.” You looked around helplessly. As he opened his mouth to say something else, you stood up. “I’m going to go get myself some water. Do you need anything?” you asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “No? Ok, I’ll be right back.” And then you fled.

You hurried down the hall toward the kitchen but slowed when you heard voices. You picked out Joanie first, then Linda. You slowed to a stop right outside the kitchen door, trying to weigh just how much you wanted that water. Was it worth facing them? Were they any better than Richard?

“Okay,” Joanie said, “but what do you really think about her?” Your stomach dropped. You tried to reassure yourself that they could be talking about anything, anyone. You pressed closer to the door as quietly as you could.

“I think,” Linda said, then paused while you heard the clink of glassware, “that she will serve her purpose just fine.”

Joanie laughed. “I just have a hard time picturing Ransom with such a mouse.” You closed your eyes. You should go right now. Nothing they had to say would be of any help to you. But, despite your best interests, you were rooted to the spot.

“She definitely wasn’t chosen for her personality, but Ransom understands how good this will be for the whole family. How important it is”

“Oh, of course,” Joanie simpered, and you just hated both of these women so much at that moment, maybe more than you’d ever hated anyone. “I just feel so bad for him. He must be so bored.”

“Listen, I told him that he just needs to get her pregnant, and then he can do whatever he needs to do. Once he has an heir. As long as he’s discreet, of course.”

Joanie cackled. “You didn’t! Oh, you’re so bad!”

“He might already be behind on that one, anyway,” Linda said, and you could practically hear her smirk. But you didn’t know what she could possibly be talking about. She didn’t know you and there was no one– unless. Oh god.

“Well.” Linda continued. “You know, she and her step-brother are very close, if you know what I mean.”

“Really?” Joanie asked, fucking eagerly.

“Mhmm,” Linda hummed. “Did you not see them at the wedding? They were practically hanging all over each other. He had to be kicked out of her dressing room.”

“No! Does Ransom know?”

“Well, I haven’t told him yet. You know how he gets. I’m waiting for the right time.”

“You know what they call that on the internet, don’t you?”

Linda sighed. “You know that I don’t, Joanie.”

“Stepcest!” Joanie said gleefully.

And that was it. That was all you could do. This fucking family. How– Why? You’d never done anything. You hadn’t even chosen to be here! And they still took so much joy in cutting you down. And if Linda managed to get to Ransom and tell him… Who knows what he’d do?

You moved as quietly as you could back down the hall, swiping at the tears beginning to gather in your eyes, hoping not to call any attention to yourself, when shouts suddenly erupted from the other side of the house. As soon as you recognized one of the raised voices as Ransom’s, you began to hurry in that direction.

You hadn’t made it very far before he came barreling out in your direction. “Get your coat,” he growled. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t argue, more than ready to get out of there yourself. You followed him to the closet, and then once you both had your coats, out the door. The crisp night air was bracing after feeling suffocated in that house for hours. Neither of you said anything as you got into Ransom’s car.

It wasn’t until you were fully off Harlan’s property that you felt brave enough to ask, “Is everything alright?”

He glanced at you before returning his eyes to the road and letting out a humorless chuckle. “Sure,” he said.

“What– What did he want to talk to you about?”

“Just his same old bullshit,” he scoffed.

“I–” you had no idea what to say. “Is it always like that?” You felt foolish as soon as you asked. Of course, it was. You could tell.

“Oh, no,” he said, and his tone was so cold, so detached, that you couldn’t help but stare. This felt like a brand new Ransom. “Sometimes it’s really bad.”

You didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea what to do with this sudden urge to comfort him, this man who had so much power over you, this man you couldn’t even say you liked most days. Especially after what you’d just been through. So you kept your hands in your lap and stared out the window.

After a few minutes of silence, he surprised you by being the one to break it. “So. I bet your family looks like the fucking Waltons compared to that.”

You thought of dinner with your own family. Joseph crowing loudly about his successes. Your mother cowering the moment any small thing went wrong. Steve getting into screaming matches with his father. You feeling invisible, on a good day. “No,” you said, hollowly. “Not really.” He turned his head sharply to look at you and you held his gaze for just a moment before he had to look back at the road. There was one large difference though. You’d always had Steve. As far as you could tell, Ransom didn’t have anyone.

That thought led you back to what you’d heard right before you’d left and your anxiety returned. “Steve and I–” you blurted out. “He’s my brother.”

Ransom’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, I am aware of that.”

You shook your head. “No, I just– I know we aren’t related biologically, but– Nothing’s ever happened between us. Not ever. He’s my brother.”

“What the fuck?!” he called out as he made a left turn more sharply than necessary. “Why would you–” he cut himself off. “Did someone say something to you?”

You ignored his question. “I just–” you said, “I just wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Neither of you said anything else for the rest of the drive.

When you got back to his house, Ransom went straight upstairs while you let Lola out one last time before bed. When you joined him in the bedroom once that was done, he was already in bed. “Listen,” he said softly, “I know you’re probably even more anxious about this whole thing after– I just, I’m really fucking tired. Is it ok if we don’t– If we just go to bed?”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. You were just as tired and didn’t think you could deal with all that after everything else that had happened that day. You quickly went through your nighttime routine in the bathroom. When you came back out once you’d finished, you found Ransom still awake, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Lola was curled up at his side and he absently scratched her belly. You climbed into bed and turned the lamp off, turning onto your side. You felt him move behind you, scooting closer, not enough that you were touching at all, but you could feel his body heat. It was oddly soothing. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come fast, ready for this day to be over.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes @identity2212 @have-another-doughnut @patzammit @blackhawkfanatic @mooievis @dontbescaredtosingalong @curiousandjoyous @identity2212 @helensdrafts @cricket66 @vyctorya @disgruntled-cat @heyyitsreign @reader2003 @zaqnette

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out #fanfiction #fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #reader insert #arranged marriage au #heavy angst #more than this #kris wrote something

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wackytheorist · 2 days

Text

A love letter to qsmpblr because everyone's making one and I think appreciating your favorite pages is wonderful.

(I'm not the best at introductions but you guys really do mean a lot for me, so here's my story)

I never used to care about tumblr, I only had an account to check out the funny posts and maybe reblog them on my sideblog but this account was colorless. I was just wead(random text spam that I can't remember).

Why? Because socializing was(and still is) quite hard and handling a community online was way to much stress for me, an overthinker. Of course I made occasional vague posts in the heat of the moment but I never wanted to be considered a qsmpblrian.

But then came the qsmp reset, and wayyy to many thoughts in brain I began posting. Then came the ghosties arc and so I began liveblogging and theorizing and ignoring my overthinker thoughts because qsmpblr was a big community and no one cared for little ol' me right?

I was so wrong, and happy to be wrong because now, I regret nothing and this community is the 9th most important thing of my life.

You see I love appreciating people inside but when I try to talk about it, I stumble hence the weird wording

PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO THANK UNDER CUT

@ultra-raging-ghost You used to be my primary source of badboyhalo vlogging, thank you for catching me up to date. It was so fun go insane over badboyhalo with you, even if it was for a short time.

@kadextra I'm devouring your art oml, also loved to liveblog with your so cool omg.(I'm so so so honoured to be your mutual)

@alchemicaladarna Holy shit your brain please keep yapping if alchemicaladarna made a lecture on badboyhalo lore, you bet your ass I'd be there.

@q-starhalo , @rhiaarrow , @imferns , @pomme--bleuet and all the other bbh vloggers I couldn't mention for various reasons, thank you for your services o7

@iminyourbookshelf I loved chomping the heads of federation workers with you, your amazing and cool :D

@semifontos I've said everything I wanted to say everything in your reblogs but omg your writing is insane/pos

@tubborucho I didn't expect you follow back, your sosososososo very cool :D

@pommunist Thank you for your services to bringing us information about the qadmin situation(and for being the based af)

@ethertheaether The fanfiction on Omelete made my shitty month 2000x better.

@itsbebebrainrotting @faffodil @imnotasweetie @dotterelly @annimator @artistnerd24

@theroseyhues @lilghostlettuce @qsmp-extraordinaire Your reblogs make my day pippipipipipipipipipipipipipipipipi

@qsmpcryptid @insanitybl00m @adreamoverlife @etoilesbienne @sarcastictissy and a lot of blogs I can't all capture thank you!

@qsmpincorrect @qsmp-where-they-shouldnt-be @which-qsmp-egg-would and all the events that kept us entertained.

AND @YOU QSMPBLR USER!!

#qsmpblr #qsmp

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foreingersgod · 22 hours

Note

hey just out of curiosity, what do you have coming up? not in a “you better get publishing RIGHT NEOW way” but more so i’m just kinda curious as to what i have to look forward to with your writing. like i don’t even need a timeline but maybe any general ideas even if they’re not for sure or any interesting requests you’ve had come in that you maybe wanna do?

i’m so glad you asked, i’ve got a LOT (i.e. 60+ requests plus some of my own ideas)!

as far as what to expect, i’m trying to publish for 3 main people right now: emily, caitlin, and kate. i’m still working on stuff for paige, nika, kk, and all the others girls, but i have significantly less traction for them compared to the others. but i will say i’ve been getting asked about paige quite a bit so expect some more for her soon!

here are some of my favorite ideas/reqs/plots that i’m working on right now:

- part two of “let’s stay home” (e. engstler)

- touchy emily engstler

- teammate reader and paige

- country girl kate

- fluffy girlfriend kate/domestic kate

- angsty caitlin (chappell roan inspired)

- bratty reader and kk arnold

- chappell roan inspired paige

- kk harvey fics

- spicy caitlin ;)

sorry, these are INCREDIBLY vague descriptions, but i don’t want to give anyway too much!

i really do just want to make it clear that i’m trying to push out most of my emily engstler fics right now because its soooo limited out there. but don’t lose hope and be patient with me, ill be sprinkling other fics in between :)

as always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated, i haven’t been getting a lot of attention for my fics anymore so i am grateful for all of your support !!

#wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #caitlin clark x reader #foreingersgod #caitlin clark #kate martin x reader #kate martin #paige bueckers x reader #lesbian #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler #kk harvey x reader #kk arnold x reader #caroline harvey #wlw #wlw imagine

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fictionally-driven · 2 days

Text

Beneath the Surface

Pairing: Mortefi x gn! reader Word count: 2715 words Trigger warnings: Injury mention, stress, implied violence Plot: (Y/N) risks everything to ensure the success of Mortefi's project, only to find themselves facing the consequences of their actions.

Author Note: I couldn't help but indulge in this after playing WuWa from the past few days. If you liked it, then reblogs are appreciated, Thank you!

The hum of the laboratory filled the air as you meticulously adjusted the settings on the analytical apparatus. The scent of antiseptic was ever-present, a constant reminder of Mortefi’s obsession with cleanliness. Across the room, Mortefi’s sharp eyes monitored every movement with the precision of a hawk. His erudite presence was intimidating, but his brilliance was undeniable.

"Careful with that connection," Mortefi’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and precise. "If you cross those wires, we might end up with a very expensive paperweight instead of a weapon."

You swallowed hard, focusing even more intently on the task at hand. Despite his demanding nature, you couldn't deny the profound respect you had for him. His prodigious talent and relentless drive were legendary, and working under his guidance was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

"Why did you choose the 7V capacitor instead of the 10V?" he asked, his tone carrying a hint of challenge.

"I... I thought it would optimize the energy efficiency for the smaller components," you replied, trying to sound confident.

Mortefi raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Efficiency at the cost of stability is a gamble. Rework it with the 10V and recalibrate. We can't afford any mishaps in the field."

His exacting standards were daunting, and many of your colleagues, like Fuxian and Lila, had urged you to switch teams. "He’s impossible to please," Fuxian had complained. "You’ll burn out if you stay," Lila had added, her tone sympathetic.

"Why are you still here?" Professor Li had asked you during a lunch break. "Working with Mortefi is demanding. Have you considered switching teams?"

Others had similar sentiments. Dr. Huang mentioned, "Jin's team is looking for researchers. It might be less stressful for you."

But you had always declined. Despite the hardships, you were learning and growing under Mortefi’s guidance. His vision was something you believed in, and his intellect was something you respected deeply. You wanted to see this project through, no matter how challenging it was. Despite his harsh demeanor, there were moments when you saw a different side of him. When interacting with children during academy tours or while building special toys for them, he was gentle and patient. It was a side you rarely saw but often thought about, wondering if there was more to him beneath the hard exterior.

As you adjusted the components, Mortefi’s voice softened slightly. "Remember, we’re dealing with Tacet Discords. Their unpredictability demands our absolute best."

You nodded; his rare moment of leniency not lost on you. It was these glimpses of his humanity, the softening of his sharp edges, that kept you motivated. Despite thinking Mortefi was quite handsome and seeing his softer side, you found working with him intensely stressful. His demanding nature often left you wishing he wouldn’t find you in the Academy at this moment. Yet, he always did. No matter where you tried to work in peace, Mortefi would inevitably track you down, pushing you to work harder.

He would push you to the brink, always expecting more. Like the time he had you work overnight to perfect the plasma stabilizers on the Tacetite rifle. "Precision is key," he had insisted, "a single micron off and we could compromise the entire system." Or when he had you recalibrate the quantum resonance field of the weapon’s core, demanding nothing less than absolute accuracy. "The slightest error could mean the difference between life and death in the field."

One afternoon, while taking a brief break with a cup of tea, you overheard a heated discussion in the adjacent meeting room. Rushed voices discussed about a region afflicted with the Waveworn Phenomenon, where the water was corrosive and posed a significant challenge for data collection necessary for calibrating the new weapon.

Mortefi was at the center of the debate, his frustration palpable. "We need to place sensors in the affected region. The data is crucial for the weapon's calibration," he insisted.

"But it's too dangerous!" one of the senior researchers argued. "The water is corrosive. We can't risk our equipment or personnel."

"Then we need to devise a solution, and quickly. Ideas?" Mortefi demanded

“We could design a remote sensor deployment system? Something that can be launched and retrieved without direct contact?" A researcher suggested. “But it would take a few more weeks at the least to develop and test it.”

“Yes, but how do we know it will not be affected by the corrosive water?” Another researcher interjected.

You could hear Mortefi's exasperation. "We have to find a solution. Delays are unacceptable."

The meeting continued without resolution, and Mortefi stormed out, his expression dark. You returned to the lab, knowing that his frustration would likely spill over into your work. You knew he was right. Unusual Tacet Discords were appearing in the said region and to clear the Waveworn Phenomenon, the area and the Tacet field needed to be purified, just like Rover had in the Sea of Flames with the aid of the explosive spears.

Mortefi didn’t utter a word as he returned to his workstation. His normally precise and controlled demeanor seemed on the verge of breaking. Sparks flickered in his palms, small flames teetering on the edge of erupting into something far more dangerous. His frustration was palpable, a red dragon threatening to descend in fiery wrath.

He began to work furiously on something, his fingers flying over the holographic interfaces, but you knew he was just venting his frustration rather than finding a solution. As you watched him, an idea began to form in your mind. The Academy would never risk Mortefi’s life to place the sensors himself. But with the right equipment and planning, perhaps you could limit the effect of the corrosive water just enough to place the sensors as necessary. It was a dangerous idea, but one that might just work.

Over the next two days, you worked in secret, drafting a plan to deploy the sensors yourself. You designed a specialized suit with multiple layers of protective material and a face shield. You also went through strategic routes that would minimize exposure to the water while you could place the sensors to collect live data. You worked late into the night, determined to see this through.

Your heart raced as you finalized the preparations, ensuring that everything was ready. You knew the risks involved, but you couldn’t bear to see Mortefi’s project falter. You left an auto-delivering email to the Academy and Mortefi, explaining your actions and preparing them for the worst-case scenario. You detailed the corrosive nature of the water and the potential for catastrophic failure. You mentioned the possibility of severe injury or even death, but emphasized the importance of the mission and your confidence in the equipment you had designed.

"Mortefi, if you’re reading this, I have already embarked on my mission to place the sensors in the Waveworn Phenomenon. The corrosive water is a significant risk, but I have taken all possible precautions. My plans have been outlined in the attachments to this email. In the event that I do not return, please know that the sensors should provide the data needed for the weapon's calibration. If the worst should happen, remember that this data is crucial for our fight against the Tacet Discords. My only regret is not being able to see our project through to the end with you. Be safe, and may this work help save many lives in the frontlines."

The journey to the region was arduous, the landscape transformed by the Waveworn Phenomenon into a hostile wasteland. Tacet Discords were littered across the land, scurrying about, looking for their prey. As you approached the region, the air grew thick with an acrid smell, and the water’s surface shimmered ominously.

As you waded into the water, you felt the first pangs of pain. Despite the suit’s layers of protection, the corrosive nature of the water was relentless. Your skin burned where the water made contact, and you gritted your teeth against the agony. The first few sensor placements went smoothly. The monitoring devices buzzed around you as you diligently placed the sensors in the designated locations. You fought off Tacet Discords that appeared, using the weapons you had brought with you. The battles were fierce and exhausting, each encounter sapping your strength further. You weren’t a fighter, and this mission was the most physically taxing thing you had ever done. Every step felt like a monumental effort, but you pressed on, driven by the knowledge of what was at stake.

As you placed the final sensor, the water began to eat through your protective layers. Your skin burned and blistered; the pain almost unbearable. With the last sensor in place, you stumbled out of the water, your body screaming in agony. Your vision blurred, and you collapsed on the shore, your strength fading. Your body was a mass of injuries, the pain almost unbearable. You could feel the poison from the water coursing through your veins, your strength fading rapidly.

As you lay there, you smiled faintly, knowing that you had done what you set out to do. Mortefi and the Academy would have the data they needed to complete the weapon and purify the Tacet field. You closed your eyes, content in the knowledge that your efforts had not been in vain.

The world faded to black, your last thoughts filled with a sense of accomplishment and the image of Mortefi’s smile, the one often reserved for you for a job well done.

-------------------

The world around you slowly returned to consciousness, marked by the persistent beeping of medical monitors and the sterile scent of antiseptic. Bright lights flooded your vision as your eyes fluttered open, causing you to hiss and recoil in pain. Every inch of your body ached and throbbed.

"(Y/N)," a familiar voice called out softly, laced with worry.

Blinking against the harsh light, you turned your head towards the voice. Through the haze of your vision, you could make out a blurry figure standing beside you. As your eyes focused, the figure became clearer, and you recognized Mortefi’s red hair and intense red eyes.

"M-m-Mortefi?" you stammered in a hoarse voice.

He sighed in relief, his expression softening slightly as he stepped closer. His usually immaculate appearance was frazzled, red hair disheveled, dark circles under his red eyes, and a stubble shadowing his sharp jawline. He looked worried, a sight you had never seen before.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, his voice a far cry from its usual sharpness.

You swallowed, your throat dry and scratchy. "Thirsty," you managed to say, "and everything hurts."

He scoffed lightly, though his eyes betrayed a mix of frustration and concern. "I’d be surprised if everything didn’t ache," he replied, reaching for a cup of water and gently helping you drink.

The cool water was a welcome relief, soothing your parched throat. You took a few sips before your thoughts turned to the mission. You shifted slightly, wincing at the pain that shot through your body. "The data... from the sensors..." you started, only to be cut off by the sight of flames sparking in Mortefi's palms.

Mortefi’s breathing grew labored, and his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes, usually so composed, now burned with a barely contained fury. "That is a fine thing to worry about given your current predicament," he said through gritted teeth, his tone a mix of anger and something deeper, something unspoken. "Is that really what you want to worry about right now?” his voice trembling with barely contained anger.

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. "I had to do it. The project—"

"—could have been delayed!" he snapped, the flames in his hands flaring up before he forced them to extinguish. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "You were reckless," he continued, his voice rising slightly. "You’re lucky the Midnight Rangers found you when they did. I was on my way to bring you back."

You winced, both from his words and the pain that coursed through your body. "I... I had to do it," you said weakly. "We needed the data."

Mortefi shook his head, frustration evident in every line of his face. "Do you have any idea how close you came to dying?" he snapped, then took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. "You’ve been unconscious for a week. Your injuries were severe—second-degree burns, lesions on different parts of your body, multiple lacerations, and severe exhaustion and it will take time to heal. You were delirious from the pain and poison. You’re lucky to be alive!"

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Despite the anger in his voice, there was something else there too—something softer, almost vulnerable. "I'm sorry," you whispered.

Mortefi's eyes softened, though his expression remained stern. "Just... don't do something like that again. We need you, (Y/N). I need you. Any project isn't worth your life. You did what you thought was right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you can’t keep risking your life like this. It’s... it’s too much."

Mortefi's touch was surprisingly gentle as he cupped your face, his fingers trembling slightly against your skin. It was as if he feared that even the slightest pressure might cause you more pain. His red eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now held a depth of emotion you had rarely seen before.

"I... I've never felt so helpless," he admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "Watching you unconscious, it felt like... like you were slipping away from me with every passing minute."

Your heart thudded in your chest at his touch, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. You reached up, placing your hand on top of his, pressing it gently against your cheek. "I'm here now, Mortefi…" you murmured softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of the medical equipment. "I'm not going anywhere. I only did it because I couldn’t bear to see your project not come to fruition. I… didn’t want your efforts to go to waste."

He shook his head, his expression pained. "It's not just my effort," he murmured, his gaze locked with yours. "It was equally yours. None of it means a thing if you aren't with me to see its results. Promise me you'll take care of yourself. We... I can't bear the thought of losing you."

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken truths and emotions too raw to name. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the beeping noises of the machines around you. As you lay there, the pain and exhaustion overwhelming you, you felt a connection with Mortefi that you had never felt before. His worry for you, his anger at your recklessness, all stemmed from a deeper place of care and concern. The silence between you was heavy with unspoken words, emotions that neither of you had fully acknowledged until now.

Then, with a soft exhale, Mortefi leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin as if trying to convey all the words left unspoken. And in that moment, you knew that despite the dangers, despite the risks, you were bound together by something stronger than any project or mission.

"Rest," he said softly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. "You need to recover. We’ll talk more when you’re stronger."

You nodded, too tired to argue, and let your eyes drift closed. As you slipped back into unconsciousness, you felt a sense of peace knowing that Mortefi was there, watching over you. Despite the pain and the fear, you knew that you were not alone.

#lina writes #wuthering waves #Wuthering waves fic #WuWa #WuWa fanfic #Wuthering waves fanfic #Mortefi #Mortefi x reader #mortefi wuwa #mortefi wuthering waves #Mortefi fanfic #wuwa mortefi

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55sturn · 10 hours

Note

makeout sessions with chris that get a lil heated heheheh

✮ MAKING OUT WITH BFF!CHRIS

disclaimer: alcoholic consumption, drug usage, nsfw, heavy petting, dry humping, implications of going further.

you and chris had a not-so-complicated complex relationship. the two of you were best friends, but there was always a hint of something more creeping in the background. the two of you fully crossed the line one night after a few too many drinks at a party that landon had thrown at some random place.

the two of you stumbled up the stairs, seeking peace and quiet in an empty room, and the way the soft lighting from the bedside lamp enhanced your features had him staring at you in a way he found himself staring at you way too many times before. but there was something different this time, you were reciprocating the look in his eyes. and before he knew it, his lips were slotting over yours, kissing you with such a force of emotion, you felt like you were floating. and the way he nudged your legs apart with his knee, pressing against your clothed cunt, had you rolling your hips against it, needing more.

the next time he kissed you, you were both sober, and he was desperate to feel your lips on his in the middle of a movie night that nick had invited you to, only for him to pass out five minutes in. and without nick asking questions every five minutes, chris had access to your full attention. and he was quick to use it to his advantage. his hands grasped at your hips, tugging you into his lap as his lips molded perfectly with yours, the two of you smiling against each other’s lips as his hands slid beneath the hoodie of his that you wore, his thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples, loving the way you keened into his touch. but the bliss was cut short as you both heard the garage door open, signalling that matt was home.

the third time he kissed you, he was high out of his mind, the blunts that you two had shared going straight to his head, both of them. and he needed to kiss you again. he realized that once he had kissed you for the first time, he needed to feel your lips against his all the time. and he made sure to kiss you every chance he could. and kissing you while felt unreal, and he was sure to take it further, and the feeling of your walls hugging him so deliciously tight, every inch of him buried deep inside you, he didn’t know if he’d every get enough of it.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

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scoonsalicious · 19 hours

Text

7.4 Bucky*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (hand stuff(f receiving))

Word Count: 1.3k

Previously On...: You got it on. In the woods.

A/N: Ugh, my beautiful long weekend is over. No more days off from work until Junteenth.

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“I’m gonna end up falling in love with you,” she had said to him, and Bucky could barely believe his ears. He made love to her again, under the stars, assuring her with every thrust, every kiss, every caress, that he felt the same.

After he’d taken her apart once more, he’d grabbed his discarded shirt and dipped it into the stream. Wringing out the excess water, he brought the wet cloth back and used it to gently clean her folds. He’d made such a mess of her, but the sight of his seed oozing from her core was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. It was all he could do to keep himself from bending down and using his fingers to push it all back inside of her, where it belonged, where he wanted it to always belong, from now on.

But there would be time for that, later.

For now, he helped her dress, and using the combined lights of the flashlights on their phones, they managed to collect the rest of the picnic gear and made their way out of the clearing, hand in hand, and back to the parking lot, Major leaning against his arm and occasionally letting out a contented sigh that filled Bucky’s heart.

When they reached their cars, Bucky was surprised to see Major had arrived in a pickup truck. “Not sure what kind of car I was expecting for you, sugar,” he said with a laugh, “but a pickup wasn’t it.”

With a smile, Major lovingly patted the truck’s hood. “Yeah, wasn’t my first choice, honestly, but when I started my business, I needed something that could transport shit to The WarZone from our suppliers. It’s grown on me, though. Speaking of,” she added, her face falling a little, “I should probably head home; it’s already nine o’clock, and I have to work tomorrow.”

Bucky felt his heart sink. The last thing he wanted to do was say goodnight to her. “Spend the night at the Compound with me,” he offered again, bringing his hands to her waist. “It’s closer than your place, and I don’t want to say goodbye to you just yet.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and offered his most pleading puppy dog look. “I can bring you back to your truck in the morning.”

Major sighed in feigned reluctance. “I suppose I could be a little late tomorrow,” she admitted. “I think my boss will understand. I happen to know for a fact that she’s quite fond of your dick, so she might make an exception if I tell her I was out late riding it all night.”

Bucky laughed and pulled her to his chest. God, he loved the feeling of her as she wrapped her arms around him, the way she seemed to fit perfectly into the dips and curves of his body.

“To hell with it,” he heard her mumble into his chest. “I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow.”

Bucky pulled back and looked down at her, trying hard to stifle the grin that was threatening to spread across his face. “Are you sure, sugar?” he asked her. “I don’t want you putting your business in any kind of jeopardy because I’m trying to be a bad influence.”

Major shook her head and smiled at him. “Honestly, things over there run so smoothly now, I don’t need to be as involved as I am. I just like keeping an eye on things because, well, the business is my baby, you know?” Bucky nodded, he did understand; she’d devoted so much of her life to making it a success. “So, I can afford to take a day off here and there to spend time with you,” she said.

Bucky grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. “Since you’re playing hooky and don’t need to worry about being home early,” he said, “how ‘bout we finally eat dinner? You’ve got to be starving.”

Major let out a low groan. “God, yes, please. Don’t get me wrong, I fully enjoyed our alternative activities, but damn, boy– you had me working up an appetite.”

“Gimme one minute,” Bucky said. He hauled the picnic basket into the back of Major’s truck and spread the blankets along the bed. He grasped Major by the hips and gently lifted her over the tailgate before hopping in, himself. He propped up some pillows against the back of the cab, and sat down against them, spreading his legs and motioning for Major to sit between them, with her back to his bare chest. He then rummaged through the basket and retrieved their forgotten sub sandwiches and lemonades.

While they ate, Bucky pointed out constellations to Major, telling her the stories behind the figures in the night sky. He loved how much more could be seen out here than back in the city. He’d always loved space, and Major listened to him with rapt attention, asking thoughtful and poignant questions, letting him know that she was both paying close attention to everything he said, and that she admired his interest.

“You’d make an excellent astronomer,” Major commented, after Bucky had pointed out the tiny dot that was Neptune, far off in the unfathomable distance.

“When I was a kid, that’s what I wanted to be when I grew up,” he confessed with a nostalgic smile. He’d never told anyone that before– not even Stevie. When you were a kid from Brooklyn, growing up during what would become known as The Great Depression, the idea of making a career out of looking at stars seemed so fanciful as to be almost insulting. Bucky had known there was no future in the cosmos for him, only a life of hard, manual labor, doing what he needed to do to put food on the table for his family.

Only, that never even came to fruition, either. One measly letter from Uncle Sam had ripped away all his dreams, and his reality.

“Well, it’s never too late for a career change,” Major said, her tone only half teasing. “I mean, you’re only in your early hundreds. You’ve got time.”

And now, here was Major, simultaneously both reality and dream, and when she said he could be an astronomer, she had Bucky believing it.

Once their food was finished, though, Bucky couldn’t resist sliding a hand down the waistband of Major’s jean shorts, seeking out the warmth and wetness of her folds.

“Bucky!” Major sucked in a breath as she arched her back into his chest. “Fuck!” He slid two of his flesh fingers inside of her, working them in and out at a leisurely pace with one hand, while his vibranium hand pointed out the stars of one of the smallest constellations, Delphinius.

“That’s the Dolphin,” Bucky told her as she grasped onto his forearm to support herself. “The stars aren’t very bright, but the myth is that Poseidon– doll, how can you pay attention if you keep squirming like that?” He knew she couldn’t see him, so he had no need to hide the mischievous smirk that covered his face.

“Bucky,” Major whined, and god, how Bucky loved the sound of it. He brought his lips to the crux of her neck and shoulder.

“I’m trying to teach you about the stars, doll, and your mind’s completely elsewhere,” he teased. He brought his vibranium arm down to join his flesh hand, and used it to work her clit, until Major was a crying, shaking mess in his arms.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” he assured her as she came down from her high. He made sure to hold her close to him, loving how her whole body shook with the aftershocks of her pleasure. Pleasure that he had coaxed from her.

“You are a bad boy, Bucky Barnes,” Major said with a laugh once she’d found her voice again. “And you definitely do not play fair.”

“If you think I’m bad now,” he offered with a grin as he kissed the top of her head, “just wait until you see how bad I’m going to be when I get you back to the Compound.”

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