#//I learned so much through working on this

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hello! I absolutely love your work! If you feel up to it could you do one where Lando’s little girl has separation anxiety since he travels so much. Like maybe she always wants to sleep in his bed, always climbs into his laps when he’s trying to work, basically always wants to be close to him. I just think I’d be so cute to see Lando take care of his baby anxiety and maybe learning to take care of his own at the same time

Anxiety

The morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the cluttered nursery. Toys were scattered across the floor, a tiny pink sock was hanging from the side of the crib, and in the middle of the chaos, Lando sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to coax a little girl into her clothes.

"Come on, baby, arms up," Lando said gently, holding out the tiny blue jumper.

Yn, three years old and stubborn as ever, shook her head, curls bouncing. "Nooooo, Daddy! No shirt today! I wanna stay in jammies."

Lando sighed, hiding a smile. "If you stay in pajamas, how are we gonna go see the ducks later? They don’t like jammies, remember?"

Her big brown eyes widened. "Ducks don’t like jammies?"

"Not even a little bit," he said seriously, tugging the jumper over her head while she giggled. "They said so last time. Quack quack, no jammies, Daddy!"

Yn dissolved into laughter, kicking her legs playfully as he got her dressed.

It had been three years since he became a father, and not a day went by that he didn’t think about how lucky he was, even when it was hard. Especially when it was hard.

She clung to him like a shadow. Lando had expected some level of attachment, but Yn’s separation anxiety made everything just a bit more difficult. From the moment she woke up to the moment she went to bed, she wanted to be within arm’s reach of him.

"Breakfast?" he asked, standing and lifting her effortlessly onto his hip.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "But you not going away today?"

His heart ached. "Not today, baby. Today is a Daddy and Yn day."

She grinned. "Daddy and Yn day! Pancakes?"

"Pancakes it is."

---

Later that afternoon, Lando sat on the couch with his laptop balanced on his knees, trying to review some sim data for the next race weekend. Yn was curled into his side, her head resting on his chest, watching a cartoon on the tablet he had reluctantly given her.

She kept poking his cheek every few minutes.

"Yes, baby?"

"You not leaving yet?"

"Not yet."

"You promise?"

Lando kissed the top of her head. "I promise."

She didn’t say anything for a while, just quietly lay there, her little hand gripping the sleeve of his hoodie.

Mary, their nanny, arrived in the early evening.

"Hey sweetheart!" she called out, entering the living room. "There’s my girl!"

Yn peeked up and gave her a small wave but didn’t move from Lando’s lap.

"Tough crowd today," Lando murmured with a smile.

Mary chuckled. "She’s been stuck to you like glue lately. You think it’s the travel?"

"Has to be. Every time I leave, she wakes up crying for three nights straight."

Mary reached out and brushed some hair from Yn’s forehead. "Poor little heart."

"Yeah. I try calling as much as I can, but it’s not the same."

Yn looked up at him suddenly. "Can I come with you next time? In your car?"

He laughed, even though it made his chest hurt. "You want to race, huh?"

She nodded solemnly. "I be small driver. I go zoom!"

"You already go zoom around this house. That’s enough danger for me."

---

That night, Lando tried to put her to bed in her own room.

"One more story?" Yn pleaded, eyes wide, clutching her stuffed penguin.

He sighed but nodded. "One more."

By the end of the story, she was half-asleep. Lando stood carefully, tiptoeing out of the room.

"Daddy?"

He paused. "Yeah, baby?"

"Stay. I don’t like the room when you go."

He hesitated. "I'll be right down the hall. You can call me anytime."

"But I want your bed. Please?"

It was the third night in a row. Lando ran a hand through his hair. He knew the experts said not to give in, that it would make it harder later. But every time he saw her lip tremble, something in him caved.

"Alright. Come on then."

She beamed, hopping out of bed and running to him. He scooped her up, carrying her to his room, where she immediately snuggled under the covers.

"Best bed," she mumbled sleepily.

Lando climbed in beside her, pulling the duvet up. "Only because you’re in it."

---

The following week, Lando had to leave for the race in Monaco. He knelt by the sofa, where Yn was hiding behind a cushion.

"Come here, baby. Let me give you a big hug before I go."

"No!"

"Yn..."

She peeked out, her face already scrunched up. "You always go. I don’t want you go."

Lando sat down beside her. "I don’t want to go either. But I have to. It’s my job, remember?"

"I don’t like your job," she muttered, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

He pulled her into his lap. "I know, I know. But you have Mary here, and you’ll get to call me every day. And when I come back, we can go see the ducks again."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise."

She linked her tiny pinky with his, then threw her arms around his neck.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you more."

Mary stood by the door, giving him a small nod. Lando stood, placing one last kiss on Yn's head.

"Be good, alright? I’ll be back before you know it."

She sniffled but nodded.

---

Every night during the trip, Lando FaceTimed her before bed.

"Did you eat your veggies?" he asked one night.

"Yes. Mary said if I eat carrots I get bunny powers."

He laughed. "Then you better be hopping all over when I get back."

"I miss you, Daddy."

"I miss you too, sweetpea. Only two more sleeps, okay?"

She held up two fingers, then yawned. "I sleeping in your shirt."

He smiled. "Good. You look extra cute in it."

---

When Lando finally got home, it was late. Mary met him at the door.

"She tried to wait up. She fell asleep in your bed again."

"Of course she did," he whispered, setting his bag down.

He tiptoed into his bedroom, and there she was—curled up, clutching his hoodie like a lifeline.

Lando changed quietly and slipped under the covers. Yn stirred almost instantly, rolling into his chest.

"Daddy?"

"Hey, baby. I'm home."

She blinked sleepily. "You back for real?"

He kissed her forehead. "For real."

She sighed happily and snuggled in. "Best bed again."

And this time, Lando didn’t mind at all.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🤍🦢

[okwonyo]

4EVER # ♩ 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀.

　　　　　🍶　　sweet gestures

fem ! rea ✶ fluff domestic ꒰𓏼 ◞ ◟ 𓏼 ྀི kissing skinship

REBLOG FOR A KISS !

heeseung keeps a picture of you in his wallet. he doesn’t tell you about it— he keeps it to himself. it’s his little secret, which he cherishes quite deadly. he likes to tell himself, as he admires your beauty in motion, “she doesn’t know that i love her so much that i have a picture of her on me all the time.” you are taken aback when you find out, randomly when you snoop in his wallet to find his credit card.

jay takes you on unplanned dates. it happens more often than not. it always surprises you, however. “princess,” he starts through the phone. “i’ll be there in thirty minutes, i’m taking you out.” it always makes your heart buzz with stress due to the fact that you love to get dolled up, but it’s nothing next to the enthusiasm it makes you feel. he always takes you the the cutest, most prettiest place. he makes sure that every second is worth your smile.

jake writes you cute notes and hide them in random places in the apartment. he does this whenever he is on tour or when he knows it’s going to be a long day away from you. a smile always creeps on your face when you find the sweet piece of paper in your makeup bag in the morning. “you always are so beautiful, my love,” he wrote in a soft and quick handwriting. how can you not be clingy when he comes back to your side?

sunghoon gives you gifts, without warning. his favorite way to do it is coming back home in a hurry, cupping your face before you can greet him properly or notice the little bag in his hands. he makes you both walk to the living room then corners you between the couch and himself. he waits until you are both out of breath to give what he bought to you, nonchalantly putting it on your thighs before diving back in to continue the makeout session. you have to push him off of you to discover what it is.

sunoo buys you flowers every other day. he comes to pick you up from work a lot, and always has a bouquet of flowers in his hands, with a sweet card attached to it. this habit his a remaining memory of the early days of your relationship— when he used to bring you flowers at each date. now, he sends them for no particular reason. not to celebrate anything if it’s not his love for you; he sends them to your work, comes back home with arms full of it.

jungwon doesn’t know how to cook, but he learns how to cook your favorite dish to make you happy. he goes out of his way to ask your family and friends about it. he spends days trying to find the perfect ingredients, the ones who will make your heart burn with joy. it takes a lot of mess in the kitchen and hours of almost breaking down for you to come back home with dinner set on the table; “i don’t know if it has good as you usually like it, but i tried.”

riki updates you about his day through long voice messages. often, his days start way more early than yours. when you get out of slumber, he is already far gone and in the middle of work. there is a fit of giggles that erupts out of your mouth as soon as you hear your boyfriend’s deep voice through the phone, telling you what he is eating for breakfast before practice. his voice messages are always detailed and always comes in packs.

taglist. ( open )

i hope everyone is doing alright <3 and that everyone enjoyed ^^

[ovaryacted]

GREEDY

─ Dr. Jack Abbot x fem! reader || WC: 3k

SYNOPSIS: You crave to feel your lover differently, and Jack is happy to satisfy your needs.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Age gap implied [Jack is late 40s, reader is late 20s/early 30s]. Power imbalance mention [Attending/Resident]. Established "secret" relationship. Creampie. Unprotected sex (p in v). Mentions of oral (f! receiving) & fingering. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation. Dirty talk. Brief mentions of birth control & safe sex practices. They fuck nasty and are down bad for each other. Reader is described to have hair. Jack Abbot is a really good partner. Brief mentions of Jack’s scars & allusions to a vasectomy he had in the past.

A/N: This all came to me in a dream lmao. I just had a certain itch I needed to scratch and I wanted to talk about getting creampied by a fine ass old man, so this was the product of that thought. I hope you all enjoy this and join me in feening for this man. Proofread by moi. Reblogs, comments, and likes are always greatly appreciated! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You’d never really consider yourself a greedy or selfish person, but when it came to Jack Abbot, you just couldn’t help yourself.

On your first day of residency at the Pitt, your attention instantly gravitated to him. He carried himself so confidently at times, never crossing the line of stepping into arrogance like some of the surgeons he complained about. He kept his head high, back straight, and shoulders flared as he maneuvered around patients and rooms alike, commanding every space with a calm confidence you almost envied.

Coffee and light teasing exchanged in the emergency department turned into cold beers and tipsy laughter at the local bar everyone frequented after long shifts or on their off-days. One drink too many resulted in a not-so-accidental one-night stand with the enigma of a man that was Dr. Abbot. You wondered if he regretted it by the time you woke up in the morning, hair a mess over your head, going in different directions; doing your best to bury the disappointment tugging at your chest when the other side of the bed was found empty.

Much to your surprise, light clanking from your kitchen forced you back on your feet, spotting Jack working over the stove, the smell of eggs and fresh toast wafting through your apartment. His jeans hung low on his hips, unbuttoned, with his black briefs hiding the rest of him. He turns when he senses your presence, the corner of his lips tugging upwards in a small grin at the sight of you, slightly disheveled and wearing nothing but his shirt from the night before.

“Morning. Stole some of your coffee; hope you don’t mind.”

You were doomed from the start.

It never stopped after that; a one-night stand turned into several over the course of one month, and one month turned into two. You found yourself in the consistent presence of Dr. Abbot, who was always there to satisfy your needs, whatever they may be. He learned how to read you, your likes and dislikes, your quirks, and the things that made you happy and tick in agitation. The few weeks you spent with him in secret amounted to the moment Jack popped the question of exclusivity one night, and you were more than happy to say yes.

Now here you were, Dr. Abbot’s favorite night-shift resident at work and his girl when you two were alone. You already had him wrapped around your finger, hitting close to five months of being with him and selfishly enjoying his company in this bubble you’ve created for yourselves away from prying eyes.

And yet you still wanted more.

You couldn’t quite explain what happened along the way, why you simply couldn’t stop finding any little moment to touch him, to kiss him, to taste him. You just knew you wanted every part of him to yourself, and he was ready to give it.

All but one.

Your sex life with Jack was already more than satisfactory, and even using a word as simple as that was a disservice in describing your experiences with him. Hell, you’re pretty sure he’s ruined you for anyone else, and you don’t plan on finding another to take his place any time soon. But there was this one pesky thing that still kept you separated from him.

The damn rubber.

Jack was almost too good for you—a softie despite his take-no-shit attitude, always sweet and considerate when it came to you. Of course, that translated to when he fucked you, prioritizing your safety and pleasure above all else, including maintaining recommended sexual habits. You can’t blame him; he’s not an idiot, and neither are you, but at times it irks you to still have something getting in the way of feeling him the way you wanted.

It almost pissed you off how badly you craved him, desperately holding on to him and pulling him closer when he was too busy fucking you into the mattress. His face dug into the crook of your neck, grunting as your walls fluttered around his length, your arousal covering the thin non-latex material that separated your bodies. Just the thought of it made you whine, clawing at his shoulders and wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.

You knew he was getting close from the way his breathing rumbled deep within his chest, his grip on your hips tightening as his thrusts picked up in force. The words that had been swirling in your head for the past 30 minutes slipped out of your mouth and into his ear before you could stop them.

“Fill me up, baby.”

He groans when he hears you, slamming his hips hard against yours, a curse tumbling from his mouth as he fills up the condom. He draws a final sigh from you before pulling out to dispose of the wretched thing while you remain occupied with taking a peek at his ass as he heads to the bathroom.

Having sex without protection was something Jack didn’t think to bring up or mention. The last thing he wanted was to make you assume all you were to him was a toy to be used when it's convenient and discarded when he grew bored of you. He already had the displeasure of approaching sex that way when he was younger and reckless; he vowed to never do that again, especially with you. And of course, you didn’t want to potentially ruin the relationship you’ve worked so hard to build with your attending.

As much as he wanted to deny it, your words tormented him, playing in his mind on loop so frequently he started dreaming about feeling you with no barriers, claiming you properly. He knows once you hit that stage in your fairly new relationship, there’s no going back. From the way you struggled to hide the slightest tinge of disappointment whenever he ripped open the foil wrapper in front of you, he knew the conversation would happen eventually.

“What if next time, we just don’t use anything? Protection, I mean.” You blurt out to him in the kitchen, wringing your hands together as Jack busied himself washing the dishes after dinner. He finished up and dried his hands, pivoting to face where you leaned against the island.

“Is that what you want?” He asks carefully, his eyes boring into yours gently, the way he always did when speaking to those he cared about. “Surprises aren’t exactly what I’m worried about; we’re good on that end, but, it’s whatever you want to do, sweetheart.”

“Yes, I want to try it out.” You feel his hands coming towards your waist, a comforting gap of space between as you mess with the collar of his t-shirt. “It’s not that our sex life isn’t fun or anything; I very much enjoy sleeping with you.”

“I sure hope so considering how much I risk pulling my back doing all the work.” You playfully slap his chest, rolling your eyes at his teasing smirk.

“I just…I want to feel you, all of you. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch sort of thing, and it feels stupid explaining it, but it’s a thing, okay. Don’t fucking laugh at me.”

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle dryly at your mild panic, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you, planting a kiss on your cheek and squeezing your hips in reassurance.

“Not laughing at you, I just think it’s cute how flustered you’re getting when you’re begging me to fuck you raw.”

“Now why are you saying it like that? It sounds raunchy coming from you.” He only laughs harder.

“I think we’re way past the point of calling what we do raunchy in our relationship, don’t you think?” There’s a faint glint in his hazel eyes when he takes in your features again, his fingers pinch your chin, holding your gaze. “Besides, you aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about it. I was just waiting for you to crack first.”

That’s how you found yourself in this position now.

Your cunt pulsed from the lavish attention bestowed by the older man above, who already made you cum once using his mouth and again in combination with his thick fingers. Even with the two orgasms you gladly took, your body clenched around nothing as you watched Jack lazily jerk himself off, dark eyes raking over your bare body. By now, he’d be tearing open another one of those flimsy foil packets and slipping inside you. Instead, your legs subconsciously widened even more, beckoning him closer to you in an attempt to take you.

Notching the tip of his length at your entrance, he groaned at the feel of you, shifting his hips to grind against your heat as more of your wetness coated the underside of his cock.

“Last chance to take it back, sweetheart.” He quirked, meeting your hazy eyes—glossed over and feral as you admired his broad silhouette and tempting movements.

“Shut up and fuck me already.” You only seemed to be thinking with your downstairs brain, your thirst for more overriding common sense, not that he was complaining.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He angled himself over you, keeping his observant eyes on your face as he started pushing into you, slowly sinking deeper into your welcoming body. Jack didn’t expect you to feel so damn hot, your walls surrounding his cock like a vice, like you were made for it. Your hands flew to grasp his bicep, gasping at the bare feel of him for the first time. Eyes fluttering closed, a whimper lurched out of your mouth when he was down to the hilt, the trimmed hairs by his pubic bone rubbing against your sensitive nub, causing you to twitch around him on instinct.

As he sat inside you and let you adjust to him, you could feel everything—every ridge, every vein, every swell and throb his body gave you, even his damn pulse. It was bringing you closer to the deep end.

“Jack…” You mumbled his name, blinking slowly as his nostrils flared.

“Hold on, hold on, don’t move.” Large hands clutched your hips, keeping you pinned to the mattress with his strength. “You feel so good.”

“Yeah?” The compliment took the rest of the empty space in your head, your thighs taking their rightful place around his waist, knees bracketing over his sharp hips.

“So damn warm and wet…God.” It sounded like Jack wasn’t talking to you anymore but reiterating his own innermost thoughts, filter gone. His attention trailed down to where your bodies were joined together, shifting his hips back to watch your lower set of lips part for him, your slick covering his skin. You moved towards him, already missing the stretch of him inside you, and Jack was just as eager to give you what you needed.

“Look at her. Taking me so well, like she always does.” Thrusting forward, he didn’t spare you an inch, drawing back just to pound into you again and again.

The friction of his hips intensifies the more he gets to feel you, and soon enough the four walls of your shared bedroom are filled with the audible slapping of skin as you lose yourselves in each other. Jack’s hips pummeled into you with a force you weren’t completely unfamiliar with, but this carnal need to have more of him creeps onto the surface. Your nails raked down his freckled arms and the planes of his shoulders, encouraging Jack to buck into you harder with your sweet cries.

It all felt too fucking good, like a dream.

You didn’t want him to stop, your legs winding tighter around his torso, mewling when he hit that textured spot tucked inside you with practiced accuracy, head thrown back against the pillow as you focused on catching each one of his harsh lunges. A hand sneaked to the back of your head, grasping the nape of your neck and angling your face to look up at Jack, the smallest bit of sweat lining up on his forehead.

“Keep those eyes on me, baby. Want to see your pretty face when you come for me.” He practically snarled over you, leaning down to roughly plant a kiss, his tongue swirling around yours, swallowing all of the petulant sounds he brought out of you. “Perfect fucking pussy, and all mine.”

“All yours, Jack.” You parroted, nodding dumbly from the impact of his movements against you. “I’m all yours, sir.”

His grin turned predatory at your needy words, both hands curling around your thighs to angle them higher up, your knees now pinned to your chest, allowing him to dig just a bit deeper into you. You jolted from the change in position, one hand rushing to press against his lower stomach, fingertips skimming the raised scars along his side, long faded and meshed with the rest of him. 

He was unfazed by your movements, holding you steady, and upped his efforts against you. Your arousal practically seeped out of you, pooling at the base of him and dripping down his balls. Another whimper echoed in the room, your clouded gaze glanced down to watch Jack fuck you, mesmerized at the shine you left over him. You didn’t need to warn him that another release was swirling in your gut; your body language did all the talking for you.

“Know you’re close, honey. Can feel you getting tighter around me, damn near choking me.” He grunts, adding a swivel to his precise advances into you. “C’mon, need you to drench me. Let me feel you.”

Three more drives into you, and your third orgasm hit you so ardently your whole body trembled, a silent cry flying out of your mouth. Jack observed your reaction with hungry eyes, cooing at your cock-drunk expression, drool starting to spill out the corner of your lip.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he hit his peak, the tension in his body building in his core, and with the way you haven’t stopped convulsing around him, it will catch him off guard sooner than later. Through the haze of ecstasy, you found your voice and mumbled at him, the lust-filled mania that started this whole ordeal possessing you.

“Jack,” his attention was drawn to your face, plump lips and warm cheeks mirroring his ravenous stare, “I need you to come inside me.”

“You want it that bad, huh?” He was struggling to keep it together, his mind already hyper-focused on finishing inside until you took every damn drop. “So desperate to have your old man fill up your greedy pussy, hm?”

“Yes! Yes!” Tears streaked down your face at the mere thought of getting to feel him like this; the promise of getting what you wanted after so long was enough to overwhelm you. “Please, Jack. I need it; need to feel it. Want to feel you tomorrow, baby.”

That fired him up; the sight of your watery eyes motivated him to flex his forearms and force you to take all of him as he chased his prolonged release. A few more jabs and he was done for, digging his face into the crook of your neck and biting your shoulder to suppress the loud growl that buzzed through him. His hips were flush with yours, giving you everything he had to give, his thighs trembling and stomach almost cramping from his violent climax.

His orgasm felt never-ending; he just couldn’t stop, your body melting from the inside out as you held him above you until he plopped on top of you, pelvis subconsciously grinding into you more, never wanting to leave your warmth.

“Jesus.” You heard Jack murmur against you, placing light kisses over the indents of his teeth on your shoulder. His mouth followed a path up to the column of your throat, your jaw, and to your lips, offering you sweet pecks. “You alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed at his affections, the rest of your limbs becoming one with the mattress under you. “Didn’t break me yet, though I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

“Means I did my job well.” Both ends of his mouth curl upwards, mimicking his expression as he gently wipes your tears away.

Carefully, he took hold of your legs, bringing them back down to the bed, rubbing them with an apologetic smile as you quivered. With ease, Jack maneuvers himself to pull out of you, his eyes going to your pussy and the mess he made of you. He catches the way his spend drips out of your opening and stains the sheets below you, a sight he was committing to memory for the first time.

A carnal urge flares within him, his curiosity getting the best of him as he brings a hand to the most sensitive part of you, his thumb spreading you out to get a better look at you. More of his seed dribbled out of you, tainting the thick digit as he smeared more of himself over the rest of your cunt. You gasped at the sensation, his thumb circling over your slick pearl, squirming under his touch from the overstimulation.

“I get the appeal now,” he says to himself again, swiftly bringing two of his fingers to scoop the rest of him and sink them back into your hole, serving as a plug to keep his release inside you. You keened at him, clutching his thick wrist as he breached your body with his hand, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Jack…”

“So pretty when you’re so full of me.” You clench around him, the sensation sending a current of pleasure coursing through him, his cock twitching again at the thought of having you again. “You can take a little more, right?”

Who were you to say no to that? You couldn’t get enough of him, and when it came to Jack Abbot, you always made room for seconds and more.

©️ ovaryacted 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[companion-showdown]

Who is your favourite companion?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

Propaganda

Clara Oswald

No one is doing it like Clara Oswald. She’s bisexual, she’s a control freak, she’s made out with Jane Austen, she was the Doctor (and she was good at it). She looks like the normal one any time she’s standing next to twelve, but when you see her interact with humans on her own you realize how bad she is at acting like a normal person. Steven Moffat once said she’s what the Doctor would be like if they were a 20 something human woman stuck on earth. She is such an incredible enigma of compassion and bravery and ego. If she doesn’t make it to at least the top five then what are we even doing here. (@tardis-technician )

Jamie McCrimmon

He's the longest running companion (113 episodes!), the original companion with romantic tension with the Doctor, loyal as can be, on the same footing with the doctor despite being an 18th century highlander, he wears a kilt in space, and he was so devoted to the Doctor that he had to be forced away and have his memory erased, and the Doctor had to be grounded, for his run to end. Also really just watch a video of them they're so gay

What can I even say. It's Jamie Mccrimmon. He never would have chosen to leave the doctor, he's the doctor's most loyal companion. He's so Scottish and I love it! Always wears his kilt, gets excited when he hears bagpipe music and sees the Scottish Highlands on the Tardis screen, speaks Gàidhlig, what's not to love. (@gothicacetheatrekid )

Jamie is the longest running companion in all of Doctor Who. He is arguably the doctor’s first best friend and has been haunting the narrative ever since his departure in 1969 (even in 2024 “Boom” he is referenced!! The 10th doctor uses his name in s2e2, and the doctor-turned-master in s13 plays the skyeboat song, which only became a huge part of Doctor who because of Jamie, who was a Jacobite! Several classic doctors meet/reference Jamie in tv and extended universe media, and if you’re an I, TARDIS fan you’ll find Jamie’s entry is the only one where it’s explicitly referenced that Doctor - and the TARDIS! - loved him). He is a very complex character, who might be dismissed but is much more intelligent than he is given credit for. He’s brave and kind. He has a huge fan theory that gained enough traction to become canon through tv stories and audios - “s6b” - in which he works with the Doctor under time lord supervision. He came into the show at its most crucial watershed, the first regeneration, and impacted so much of what we consider core to doctor who today through his friendship with the second doctor. He’s a companion from the past who is quick to learn and adapt, and was the first companion who wanted to join the tardis AND never wanted to leave, until he was forcibly removed. Jamie was with the doctor for pretty much his whole second body, and Doctor who would not be what it is today without Jamie.

[butyoudidthis4what]

Perfumer

Jack Abbot x Reader

1.5k || All of my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: none I think. Hinted at sex and suggestiveness but that's about it really.

Summary: Jack smells the perfume you're wearing, flirty fluffy happy teasing ensues. That's it, that's the fic. Established relationship. No use of y/n or related. Zero proofreading of any kind. No beta.

A.N.: The summaries and titles will not be getting better I fear. After getting out some sadness in that last one I just needed something fluffy and happy and flirty. This is very self-indulgent as I love perfume and wish I had Jack Abbot giving me some and then smelling it on me, and telling me I smell good, you know? Honestly I'm quite shocked I wrote anything with like no level of angst in it that was just fluff. But my mental health needed some pure happy fluff with him so here we are. Anyway, this is exceptionally short for me and as with last time this is my first time back writing fanfic in a longggg time so please be gentle and kind and also let me know if you like it! The ending is very open, so there's definitely part two potential depending upon reception and if anyone would like.

“I should have known the trail of smell good was you. You always smell good.” Santos comments as she walks up to you while you stand by the center desk. “Do you own like a thousand perfumes or something?” 

Jack’s head popped up from looking at the tablet in his hands a few rooms down from the desk at ‘smell good,’ correctly assuming it meant you were here. You can feel his eyes on you and look over at him. “Probably not a thousand, but a lot, yes. I collect them.” 

“Why? Aren’t women supposed to want, like, a signature smell or whatever?” She tilts her head at you. 

You start smirking but Robby beats you to it. “Oh, she has to keep Abbot on his toes somehow.” 

“What does that even mean?” She looks between you, Robby, and Jack.

You bite your lip and stifle a laugh. It’s nice, having your relationship out in the open, having been able to get to know Jack’s friends. He’s still quite private though, which you respect, and know Robby is flirting with the line. You weren’t going to go quite as far, but can’t help the way it made you smile, in large part because it’s true.

It’s become somewhat of a game for you and Jack. You wear a different perfume everyday and he guesses what it is. He’s good at it, which isn’t surprising, he’s good at everything he does. It’s a nice way to have a close moment together. He likes buying them for you too to keep the game interesting.

It lets him read your moods a bit too. He’s learned that when you’re a bit down you have a tendency to go for perfumes that are heavier in a sense, more warm and comforting. And if you don’t wear perfume he knows it means things are bad because you don’t want to end up associating a smell with however you’re feeling or what you’re going through. He also swears they mix with your chemistry and smell different at certain times during your cycle. You don’t know why you found the idea of him being able to smell that on you so hot, but you very much did.

Recently you’d taken to layering some of them, in part to be creative and in part to make it more challenging for Jack.

“It means-” Robby starts.

“Okay, can we just not?” Jack asks as he walks over to you, shooting Robby a look and standing next to you. 

“I just think it’s cute how-”

“Still talking.” Jack cuts Robby off. 

“How the tables turn.” Robby shoots back, making Jack roll his eyes. 

“I was just trying to help-” Jack starts.

“Now, now, boys, no fighting in front of the children.” You fake scold them. This time they both roll their eyes at you. 

“Go back to work since you all still want to be here past your shifts.” Jack tells everyone, grabbing your hand and leading you to the doctor’s lounge. 

You expect a kiss and hug now that you’re in private, but instead you’re met with him pressing his chest to your back, one hand coming to hold one of your hips and the other moving your hair off one shoulder and tilting your neck before he leans in close to breathe you in. You can feel the soft skin of one of his lips brush against you and the stubble from him not shaving for a day. 

“Jack,” you breathe, heavier than you mean to, one hand coming to rest on his hand on your hip and the other reaching up to cup his face. 

“Celeste,” he murmurs against your skin. He’s right so you nod. That’s the name of the perfume you’re wearing on your neck and wrists today. “No wonder Santos picked up on you. Heavy sillage.” He gives you a kiss to the neck before pulling back to spin you and give you one to the lips. You smile as he does. “Stop smiling so I can kiss you properly.”

That makes you laugh, but you’re able to control it and in turn he’s able to kiss you properly, how you deserve to be kissed. “I love that you know what that word means and actually used it. It’s kind of hot.” You give him another kiss. “I’m making my military man into a perfumer.”

He hums at you, low and from the back of the throat. He loves it when you call him yours. “If you ever told anyone I would deny all knowledge of having a clue about what sillage and gourmand and all of the other pretentiously fancy perfume related words mean.” 

“I never would. Couldn’t ruin your reputation could I, Dr. Abbot? Plus I like having our little secrets.” You let your voice trail down on the last sentence, run your hands all over his scrub top.

His eyes darken just a little and his jaw tightens. He never really had any sort of title kink before he met you, but there’s something about the way ‘doctor’ slips off your tongue that really gets to him. Same with sir. 

“You’re not here for an ED related reason, are you? Hurt? Sick?” It’s teasing but there’s just enough of a tinge of real concern to the question that melts you. 

“I am not, no. I promise if I ever was here for such a reason I would make sure you knew immediately.” You smile at him softly, run a hand through the salt and peppery curls you love so much. “I just wanted to lay eyes on you, even if only for a moment. I missed you extra today. I’ll let you get back to work.” He nods, the little smile he gives you saying everything it needs to. You share one last kiss before going to leave the room.

“Oh,” you say, turning around and shutting the door again. “You’ve only answered half the question today. I just thought you should know.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You layered scents?”

“No.” You shake your head and smirk. He narrows his eyes a little as he tries to find the answer in your eyes. It suddenly clicks.

“Fuck me, your ankles?” He groans. “You put a different one on your ankles? Why?” He can already feel himself starting to fill out. He doesn’t know if he could articulate why he finds it so hot when you put perfume on your ankles for him to discover but he does. 

Your smirk widens. “For a fun surprise and to see the look on your face when I told you.” He glances around the room and then gets a look on his face like he’s thinking. You’re shocked, honestly. It’s so out of character for him to think about trying to do it at the hospital. It’s only happened twice. “Oh no,” you laugh, “no, no, no, Jack rabbit, you are not finding out here at the hospital, so don’t even think about places you could take me to try and find out.” 

He makes a noise of protest, somewhere between a growl and a whine that makes you bite your lip. He pins your back to the door with his hips and rolls them against you, grinding him into you to let you feel what you’ve done to him. “So what, I’m just supposed to go around like this for the rest of my shift?”

“Well you might want to take a couple of minutes to let that go down baby, but yes. You can finish your shift thinking about what could be on my ankles and what position it is you’re going to put me in to find out.” You press a kiss to his collarbone and his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, an unspoken command to look at him. 

You pull back and do as he asked. So big on eye contact, your Jack. He blinks at you, jaw clenched. “I’m going to be half hard and uncomfortable there for the rest of my shift, you know that right?”

“I am nothing if not a cruel woman.” You say with fake solemnity as you smooth your hands over his chest. “I’m sure as you get drawn back into work it’ll go away. Plus, you know the anticipation and wait makes it better.”

He somehow steps closer to you, almost puts a knee between your legs and leans in close, dropping his voice and making his voice even more gravely.“I want you to remember those words because you’re going to find out all about them once I’m home and I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you threatening to edge me, sir?” His jaw grinds and you see the slightest twitch under your eye that makes you smirk. You love that you can affect him like this.

“I don’t make threats, Doll.” He whispers at your ear as he steps back from you and pulls the door to the lounge open for you both to walk out of. Everyone glances up at the two of you, effectively forcing you to control your reaction as he keeps his voice low, only for you to hear. “Only promises I intend to keep.” 

[madamechrissy]

If I didn't Know Better

Pairings - Sylus x f! reader

Summary - You are arranged married to the powerful Sylus, sight unseen- and the moment you meet him, the two of you butt heads. He seems so arrogant and self sure, and he sees you as a bratty little Kitten - but that first night changes everything. Your duty is to make heirs, but Sylus gives you the choice - not to be with him for duty, but because you choose to. You both find yourselves interested to learn more and more- but just because it's good, does it mean you're in love?

Warnings- NSFW- This is SO smutty, fluffy, cute and sweet! Arranged marriage trope, a lil bit enemies to lovers, oral (f and m receiving) explicit sex, Sylus calling you Kitten and sweetie bc YES, teasing, asking for consent ofccc, talking you through it, getting 'tied up', cervix kissing, riding Sylus and making him whimper, lil bit of a spit kink hehe - you know there's a breed kink - happy endinggg - oneshot- wc- 11k!

Based on the Arranged Husband Sylus headcanons! Happy birthday to my Aries Dragon <3 Comments/rbs appreciated if you enjoy!

The rustle of silk and the clicking of your heels along the marble floor is the only sound that seems real as you descend the altar steps, as your pounding heartbeat resonates in your ears and drowns out the organs playing in the background. The dress you wore was a pristine white, along with a ruby red brooch that the attendants had pinned on your bodice, and fuck it feels heavy, a weight of the truth.

You’re about to be his.

You’re going to belong to him, a stranger. You eye him across the room in a bit of a daze, as eager onlookers study you, as if every step you make is being assessed. You can barely breathe with the pressure, let alone comprehend that you're about to marry a stranger you have only heard rumors of.

Sylus.

His name echoes in your mind, a dark, enigmatic man - some know him as a philanthropist, but rumors are there is much more to him. The dark interior of this grand hall, all reds and blacks and antique, are a stark contrast to the soft, romantic notions usually associated with weddings. You wear white, and it’s even more of a contrast to what is happening around you.

You had dreams of a day where you’d fall in love, you were still young, at least too young to marry in your opinion, you’re twenty four, and that to you is still plenty of time to find love. Though, your work tended to leave you always on assignments, always busy before this, so love was not on your mind. But the choice being taken away from you is hard to swallow.

You didn’t have parents to talk to about this, just a guardian who’d arranged this long ago. You have no clue just what you’re getting into, are the dangerous rumors true, is he ruthless? The leader of a dark, underground crime ring, or are they mere fiction, and he’s the sweet, generous hero of the N109?

This isn't a romance. This is an arrangement. You must do your duty.

Duty, always duty.

As you finally stand before him, endless steps across the elegant hall, your gaze instinctively locks onto the figure before you, and your heart skips just a beat. To say he was handsome was an understatement, the man in front of you is much more. Sylus is breathtaking, a sculpted masterpiece of sharp angles and striking features that you’ve never encountered. 

He’s insanely tall, towering over you and everyone in this room, silently watching behind their masks, as if this were a masquerade. Sylus is wearing a blood-red suit screams power, and mirrors the color of his ruby eyes, god those eyes, lidded and framed with dark lashes, in contrast to silver locks. Those eyes that seem to pierce through you now, glinting in the dim lights.

His lips part just a bit, full and glossy, as his insane eyes are assessing, judging, dragging them down your face, and across your body, you feel it so vividly- like a fucking caress. God he is beautiful, undeniably so, but a chilling undercurrent of danger radiates from him, causing your fingers to tighten around the bouquet, the mix of black and red roses.

You’ve heard whispers, rumors that paint him as the richest man alive, a titan of industry, and a force to be reckoned with. You knew you were marrying into power, but the reality of it is far more overwhelming than any briefing could have prepared you for, money is one thing, this was quite another, intense power and energy unlike anything you’ve ever encountered.

Sylus frowns at you, feigning disinterest, but he loves beautiful things, his manor is full of the finest jewels, rarities from centuries prior, and the finest art. The finest music, anything beautiful was something he collected, and of course he enjoyed a beautiful woman, but nothing quite has prepared him for you and just how stunned you’d have him.

You’re trembling just a bit as you tilt your head up, the brooch settled right on your intricate bodice, he watches your breasts rise and fall with your nerves, perfect and silken skin, pressed up high from the corset of the gown. Sylus tenses just a bit, he hadn’t expected this, this beauty of yours was not exaggerated, no perhaps it was understated.

Your eyes are full of apprehension, of fear, but they’re gorgeous how they glitter under your lashes, your lips stained with the same ruby red that adorned those roses, as if they themselves had stained them. Your body is perfect in its silhouette, you’re so small compared to him, most people are of course- his neck hurts from constantly having to look down at others with his huge frame.

But this was different.

He has a vivid image of just how easy it would be to pick you up like you’re nothing, to carry you and sit you right on his bed. Your scent, something so familiar yet foreign, fills his nostrils, as intoxicating as your beauty. For a moment he can’t even think of just a word to describe you, he planned to complain about the wait, he needed this done with after all, the loss of some of his freedoms.

But he finds it hard to think when you’re right here.

Then you notice it, you see on his shoulder as something lands, drawing your attention in the eerily quiet hall. Perched on his shoulder, a mechanical crow sits, its metallic eyes blinking with what appears to be genuine confusion, a gold coin in its beak.

"What's a crow doing here?" The words escape your lips before you can filter them. It was a genuine question, born out of surprise and a desperate attempt to break the suffocating tension and quiet, but big mistake.

His reaction is immediately full of irritation, his gaze hardens, and you feel the full force of his displeasure. It's clear: you've committed some grave fucking offense.

"Don't dare disrespect Mephisto." He growls, the first words you hear from him, and god if the man’s voice isn’t as sexy as it was intimidating,  a deep, raspy rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Is that desire or fear!?

Both!?

You feel the heat in your cheeks now, as others murmur around you, going on about ‘how dare you offend your husband like that’ which just makes you curse internally. The room was filled with those who orchestrated this union, the judging faces all around you. The very room seems to shrink around you, practically suffocating with all these fucking eyes on you, it seems one comment and you’ve already offended everyone here.

Including the irritated, arrogant man in front of you, as Sylus himself fixes you with a glare that could melt steel. "Now, on with the wedding. You’re late."

Late!? You are on time, holy fuck you’d been preened and done up like some stupid damn doll, and he has the audacity to call you late!? You feel it now, the anger and annoyance, because really fuck this, not only has the man got a crow cawing and flapping at you, he’s going to also be a whole dick?

"I am not late! I'm on time!" You stomp your foot just so, as he scoffs, raising a thin silver brow.

“We’ve been waiting, and I hate to be kept waiting.” You roll your eyes, arms crossed under your breasts.

“I’m here now, let’s just get on with it.”

“Lets,” comes his bored tone, a dismissive sound met with it that only ignites your irritation at this man’s audacity. He turns to the masked man holding an enormous, faded black book. “On with it.” 

Is that all he had to say?

This man.

The ceremony proceeds in a blur, a fucking whirlwind as you panic now, the crow cawing it’s agreement, and you see Sylus actually smile - at the fucking crow - as if he’s marrying him instead, while the priest's words are an echo. You barely focus when the vows are exchanged, Sylys couldn’t look more bored.

The thing was, he didn’t seem cruel. Just so bored!

As if this is exciting for you, you’re giving up your entire life. The exchange of your vows feels so empty, just going through the motions, you’re in your head completely, imagining a life with a stranger. One who likes a damn crow better than you already - snapping out of it only with the touch of his hand.

When he touches you for the first time?

He’s not just annoying, or pompous, or arrogant, he feels good.

Fuck him for that.

He pauses too, the tingles of your hands exchanged, making him tense up, as he struggles to focus, eyeing your little hand being held by his - something feels perfect, it feels natural, like it’s always been there. He pauses completely, Mephitsto is holding the ring in his beak, a black ring of obsidian and rubies, one he’s had for far longer than he’d admit.

Now it’s going on one of your pretty little fingers.

Your eyes met his, they were so full of fire, determination and anger despite how small you are in his comparison, cute like some… kitten. An angry kitten who thinks she has claws, but then, you seem to have them, nails filed all pointy and painted blood red, doing erratic things as he thinks of having them…

Why is he thinking this way?

It’s an arrangement.

Sylus would not be cruel or treat you poorly, but he surely wasn’t going to enjoy you, having his choice taken and being forced to just have heirs, as archaic as he himself is. “Gonna do it?” You make him glare again with your bratty little question, even as your hand trembles in his.

“Tch. Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Your eyes narrow, while he slips the ring onto your finger. The metal feels cold against your skin, fuck it feels heavy, you’re looking at it carefully, eyes now meeting his, the same ruby as your ring and your damn brooch.

Like he owns you - but you guess, he does.

Now, you’re bound to Sylus, forever and that weighs so heavy you can hardly breathe - forever with a stranger. Not for love, no, a contract, with a man you don't know, a man who already seems to dislike you. Fuck, you’re tied to a man with a mechanical crow that won’t stop cawing, while Sylus acts so casual, like nothing even happened, hands in his pockets, bored look on perfect features.

“Let’s go, I guess. Come now.” The dismissive gesture is not met with holding your hand, leading you, no, just a fucking look with eyes that bore through you. “Going to keep me waiting?”

This man!?

Soon you’re stepping - rather than being romantically carried - over that threshold, right into Sylu’s decadent mansion, as imposing as it is beautiful. He does have your luggage, the few important things that you’ve brought, handing them to two large masked men, whose eyes are following you behind those masks eerily. ‘Mephisto’ or the mechanical crow, is flying forward.

You swear the crow tells you to fuck off in his own language.

You glare at it, only for it to ‘caw, caw’ at you, and Sylus’s perfect, gorgeous face - damn him  - to look at you with an arched brow. “This way, or you’ll get lost.”

You follow him, his dress shoes glimmering as they click on his marble floor, looking at your surroundings, draped in elegance, his mansion is impeccable, gothic in fact. You peer around at the choices of black and red everywhere, there are no bright tones aside from bright rubies glinting, and the elegant chandeliers that catch your attention overhead.

Roaring fires crackle and fill it with warmth, something from so long ago, almost homey in an otherwise cold, gloomy manor, the home screams Sylus truly. He snatches up a bottle of red and one glass as the two of you pass his massive banquet hall, you suppose it’s a dining room but is basically a banquet hall. He glances at you, arrogant brow up, you want to smack his pretty face.

“Am I drinking from the bottle?” You earn his smirk.

“You want some of my wine, then?”

“What sort of host are you!?”

“You’re not a guest. More like a pest.” You scoff as he picks up another glass, with the greatest effort, clearly annoyed by your existence. “Come, then.”

You’re already tired of following him, passing those large men again, who are laughing softly and whispering at each other. “You have a mechanical crow and two weirdos living here, huh?”

“Weirdos!? Boss!” One of them says, but Sylus actually laughs softly, god that sound is way too pleasing, shaking his head and continuing to walk with his stupidly long legs, as you try to keep up.

“You’ll get lost if you don’t walk faster, sweetie.” His tone is so mocking, so annoying it drives you even more crazy, as you rush through the halls of the elegant manor, footsteps softly echoing.

“I have heels on, you know.” You’re lifting your dress up, ascending another stupid flight of stairs, trying not to notice just how nice your husband’s backside was with a flush- did the pants have to be that tight?

“You can take them off when we get to our chambers.” Finally you both get to a huge wooden double doors, where Sylus opens them with a heavy creak, as you blink in confusion.

“Our chambers? Who has chambers anymore? I… oh…” When he reveals the enormous, beautiful room you realize why it’s called that way. Soft red plush rugs over marble floors, a fireplace that he roars to life with a fucking snap - four post bed big enough for several people, black beams with a black thin curtain around them.

You blush as you do focus on that bed, its velvet blood red blankets and silky golden pillows, like something you’d expect in Dracula’s castle.

Was Sylus a vampire?

He looks like one.

Your eyes narrow, studying him then, eyeing the bottle of red. Was it blood?

“You’re staring, sweetie.” He murmurs, even though his back is turned, and he’s opening the wine bottle with a satisfying pop.

“You wish.” He chuckles once more, while you take in the rest of the room, sleek sleek dark wood furniture and high ceilings, some mix of ancient and modern that shouldn’t make sense, but it does.

“Your stare is intense.” You roll your eyes, leaning against a long side table to ease off each heel carefully, sighing in relief as you do. “I bought you a wardrobe, it’s right in that dresser.”

“A wardrobe? How would you even know…”

“Think I didn’t know about you?” Sylus eyes you now, they’re glinting, the fire casting shadows of his long, tall figure across the expanse of the room, shadows enveloping you, while you stand there, heat blooming across your cheeks.

“Did they give you all the statistics first?” Your question is full of venom, but for some reason you still scream kitten to his mind.

“Go get in something comfortable, there is a bathroom right there.” He pours two glasses of dark cabernet then, as you tentatively go to the dresser, blushing when you see the top drawer, filled with black lingerie. “Something wrong?”

“N-no.”

You’re to have his heirs, that’s the whole purpose, marrying the heir to her own fortune - though much, much less than Sylus’s - to the richest, most powerful man. To have a family and babies was good for his image, and of course everyone must have pressed him to do this as well, but you wonder then, would he even want to do that with you tonight?

“You don’t have to put them on, there are pajamas in the next drawer over.” You clear your throat just a bit, opening that drawer, seeing black and red silk, running your fingers gently over them, feeling the smooth texture as you peer in the mirror, and catch him eyeing you for a moment.

“You really like red, huh?” You see his smirk in the reflection, as you take the red silky slip and pull it out, delicate lace running across the neck.

“You could say so.”

“I um… could you unlace me?” Your words shoot through him then, he has never been nervous around anyone, not a man with his power, and as long as he remembers he has always been at ease with women.

You do something quite irritating.

His hand almost cracks his favorite wine glass, while you wait, brushing your hair to one side, and he slowly steps behind you. “Kitten, can’t even undress, hmm?”

“Kitten!?” You glare at him as he tugs on one of the laces, jerking you just a bit with the force, deepening your scowl.

“You’re an angry little kitten, who thinks her tiny meows are intimidating. Hmm…” He further tugs, stepping back a bit as you eye him in the mirror, biting back a gasp when you’re unlaced, and he traces his fingers down your spine. Your tummy clenches, breath catching as he does, body reacting so intensely it makes no sense. “Was too tightly laced…”

His murmur is met with him touching the criss cross marks left behind, imprinted on your delicate skin, eyeing the goosebumps that rise then, as he imagines everything he’d like to do to you. The urge to kiss your annoying mouth for the first time is almost too strong and vivid, followed by kissing every mark left by your corset. You shiver a bit, and he catches your eyes, his own dilating - almost black.

“Something wrong? You’re all unlaced now.” You pull yourself together, blinking rapidly and turning, far, far too close to this man, his hand suspended in the air, exhaling slowly, as you clutch the pajamas tightly to yourself.

“Nothing, um, over there?” He nods, when your top slips down just a bit, revealing too much of your breasts, your shoulders, he has to stop himself from touching them, stiffening just a bit.

Though he was furious he was forced into this marriage, he has to admit looking at you all the time was not something he’d dare complain about, even glaring you’re far too pretty. You back away, turning, clutching the dress, giving him far too much of a view of your skin, and he has to clutch that dresser, shutting his eyes as he feels it.

He’s hard looking at your back.

He curses softly, willing it to go down but nevertheless failing, waking back over to grab his glass of wine and sipping it, letting the rich flavor hit his tongue, shutting his eyes to push back all of the thoughts when you come out. He sees you in it, the red silk slip of material, your nipples pressed against it, as if they’re begging for his mouth to suck on them.

You stand in front of him, taking the proffered glass, and that’s when Sylus almost spits out his drink, as you down the little bit in one gulp. “Do you know what vintage that is!?”

“You’re stupidly rich, it’s fine.” You grab his bottle and pour more, he smacks your hand like you’re some bad child, making you laugh just a bit. “It’s yummy.”

“You’re supposed to savor it, tch.” You drink this a little slower, tilting your head now.

“We should get this over with, right?”

“Excuse me!?” His deep voice gets raspy, ruby eyes narrowing while you shrug just a bit, a little wine dripping down your lip, wiping it and wrecking his mind.

“Making an heir. The sooner we do it, the better, right?” He almost loses it, as you down the glass again.

“That’s a two hundred dollar gulp, Kitten.”

“Hmm, it’s tasty - crow.” You both scowl again, he sets his glass down angrily, and that’s when you feel that power of his again - intense and beautiful - it makes you pause for a moment, before you set your glass as well, turning. “So we should get on with it, right?”

“Get on with it!?” He sputters, you are by far the most insolent creature he has ever met.

“Yes, I know what we are here for, let’s not pretend with each other, all right?” You’re shaking even as you speak, when his hand brushes against your arm, and the light hairs raise from the contact, your tummy clenching.

“You’re cute, Kitten.”

“Stop calling me Kitten, Crow.”

“You know what to do then, hmm?” You nod shyly, when he lifts you suddenly, making you gasp, hoisting you on one fucking arm like you’re nothing, walking you over to his bed now. He tosses you in the middle then, leaned over you, his dress shirt falling gently open, revealing his strong, pale chest, as your heart races.

You can’t answer him, not when he laughs at you, so mocking, right in your face, and two of his hands grip your delicate wrists, pushing them over your head. You bite back a whine, you shouldn’t be soaking wet already, what the fuck was this man doing to you? You struggle to keep your composure, feeling his thick, hard length pressing under his slacks, making you flush.

He seems to notice his effects, as he leans down too close, heavy weight pressing you further into the soft mattress. “Are you scared, sweetie?”

You manage that glare again, but almost moan when you speak, just barely holding it back. “N-no. I’m fine, just do it and then let me get some sleep. I’m tired, you know.”

“Ah, I see, you think this would be quick, that’s cute.” He sighs now, releasing your wrists, leaning on an elbow and slipping his hand down your waist, slipping under your silk shirt, touching all your skin on your waist, humming quietly to himself. He wants to whisper of your beauty, but holds himself back, instead smirking so mockingly at you.

“Sylus just-” He slams his lips down on yours then, plush and firm, and your thighs grip his hips, as you sigh into them, your hands gripping his luxe blankets. He delves his tongue inside your parted lips, hot and messy and nothing like you’ve ever felt before - making your tummy flip with desire.

“Just what?” He murmurs softly, eyes lit up so bright it’s difficult to even look at, sighing now as he studies your body slowly, thumb brushing your nipple over your soft silk, bringing it to tighten and press harder on the fabric. You cry out before you can stop it, and the sound ends him.

But as badly as he wants to fuck you?

He won’t if it’s not your choice, if it’s to ‘get it over with’. He’ll only do this if you beg for it, writhing under him soaking wet, and even then, you have to want it, for more than your situation. He doesn’t tell you just yet, because god he is loving toying with you, eyeing you under dark lashes as he unbuttons your shirt, one by one, maintaining his casual stance as he throbs for you.

Fuck his cock twitches when he reveals one of your perfect, pretty breasts, breath ghosting over the sensitive nipple. “What are you… doing, I- ah!”

You’re gripping his silken hair before you could think any better, pulling at his roots, while he sucks your nipple into his hot, hungry mouth, making your cunt gush until he can fucking feel it, your heat, even over his clothes. Your back arches, bringing your cunt further against him, he almost shakes with how badly he is filled with the need to take you, barely holding himself in.

“You seem to enjoy this a lot for wanting to ‘get it over with’. Hmm?” You don’t acknowledge him, letting go of his hair only to grip it again as he sucks your other nipple into his mouth, hand trailing over your tummy, feeling it tremble under his touch. “Something wrong, sweetie?”

“No… I just… ngh…” He’s brushing his fingers over your hot, slick pussy, groaning out as he does, eyeing you while he balances himself over you.

“Awfully wet for your duty, aren’t you?” You glare again, just making Sylus grin, white teeth glinting as he kisses down your body, tasting your sweetness, lapping a trail down the valley between your breasts, kissing lower and lower, his hands now on your waist as your thighs tremble.

“What are you doing?” He laughs again, against your skin, making it tickle, you’re getting wetter just from that, your entire body reacting to every soft brush of his lips along your skin.

“I enjoy playing with my food a bit, before I eat my meal.” Your shorts are slid down your thighs now, you’re closing them just a bit as he sees all of you, so intimate you can’t make some witty reply.

“A meal?” Your weak little squeak would amuse him if he wasn’t staring at the prettiest pussy he’s seen, fuck even it’s like art to him. He thumbs your plump lips apart, watching the slutty little hole pouring wetness out of it, making him groan, inhaling you and sighing. “Are you like sniffing me, just get up here and- oh, oh I-”

Your words are cut off as his tongue slips up your slit then, you cry out at how fucking good it feels, hot eager tongue slipping up and collecting the juices there- then when he tastes you, his nostrils flare, lips glossy from you. His hands grip and press into your thighs, losing the tentative control he has with just how sweet his bride happens to be.

“You taste so sweet for a bratty little thing.” He smirks, those glossy lips shimmering with you, and you can only blush in response, breaths so fast you feel yourself overheating. “So quiet suddenly, where’s all that talk, hmm?”

Your only words are muffled moans as you try to cover your mouth, screaming out when his tongue laps at you again, this time on your clit, moaning as you feel it, sensitive, twitching in response. Suddenly your arms are bound by swirling red energy, thrown over your head, and he chuckles at your expression - eyes already fucked out, mouth open in a gasp.

“What is this, your… evol?” You’re not well versed with this sort of thing - you’ve only heard things. He chuckles, breath alone making your clit twitch in response, which he avidly stares at now, humming to himself as he spreads you wider.

“I’d like to hear those moans, so I need you to stop covering them. Now…” He drags your ass closer, you feel the lines of his teeth as they’re against your cunt, and you’re already dangerously close. “Has anyone drank you, kitten?”

“Drank me!? I… oh fuck, fuck!” You’re whining as he teases you, body twisting under his firm hold, his fingers are pressing into the plush of your inner thighs, slurping you up then - yes, drinking you - as if you’re wine he’s downing, except that he’d sip, not devour.

“Oh you love it, don’t you? Thought you wanted to get it over with, but she’s soaking wet f’me.” Sylus fucks you with his tongue then, your gummy walls fluttering around his wet muscle, as you feel the very texture inside you, yanking at your own arms and gritting your teeth not to scream.

You fail completely.

Letting go and hoping those two men weren’t just - what listening, or that damn crow wasn’t somewhere cawing about this - your hoarse cries echo in his enormous, elegant room, mixing with the crackling of that fireplace and Sylus’s loud moans while he sips every bit of you up. His tongue fucks you, long, so long, while he eyes you, red ruby eyes glinting with hunger.

“What is… you are… oh my…” You’re getting toppled over that goddamn edge now, when his straight, perfect nose bumps your engorged clit, and he curls his tongue up, you can’t stop it, your orgasm starts in your tummy, hot and torturous before it spreads through every inch of your body. “Sylus!”

Sylus pulls back finally, licking his lips, you flush as you see the mess you’ve made of his perfect features, when he grins down at you, psychotically hot, and you’re so disoriented you can barely understand. “And do you like fingers buried inside you, sweetie?” He asks, you just bite that lip one more time, nodding.

He shoves two fingers inside you, studying your face like a predator would his fucking prey, groaning as he watches you now, feeling your quivering hole gripping and spasming around his lengthy fingers. You’re so ready for him it’s ridiculous, imagining him naked- god you can feel those muscles, that cock.

He’s got you cumming again like it’s nothing for him, like he’s in twenty minutes figured out your body better than you do. You’re writhing under him, crying from the force of them, of cumming over and over as he watches with pure delight, dying for more, to feel him so deep, but you can’t even articulate it.

“So beautiful like this,” he’s sucking on those fingers, cheeks hollowing, moaning again at your taste, when he lets go of your wrists, and you respond by pressing your nails into his back over his dress shirt, earning his moan. “Sharp little claws.”

“Fuck, I’m ready please no more teasing… I c-can’t take it…” he sighs then, standing and confusing you. He waltzes over to grab wine then, sauntering back to you with a sway of his hips, though you see it - the huge outline of his cock. “Sylus, I said I’m ready.”

“For your duty, right?” You hadn’t even thought of duty, of anything but him then, you try to focus, clearing your throat, when he tilts your chin up, your hair falling back, lidded gaze on him. “No, I’ll sink my cock inside that pretty cunt when you ask me too, not because you have to.”

God what is this man!?

You just blink as he leans down, fingers gripping your chin, taking the glass of wine and pressing it to his lips. “You’re… wanting me to decide?”

“Mmhmm. Open that pretty mouth.” You do as he says, how can you not? And he sips that wine then, humming as he leans over, pouring the wine in your mouth from his, you swallow it down, the action itself causing that ache to build. He pulls back as you look up, wiping a droplet from your lips. “So you can listen.”

“I… huh? You… aren’t you sleeping in here?” You ask softly, he sighs then, pressing a kiss far too sweet to your forehead.

“I sleep during the day mostly,” is he a vampire!? “But I’ll lay with you when you want me to as well, not until then. I expect an answer when I get back.”

“What, like how long?” You hop up, dressing quickly, and he pauses at the door, looking back at you.

“Less than a week, I had to put the mission on hold for the wedding. When I’m back, you let me know what you decide - my role as your husband.”

He leaves then, and you feel empty without him, cold even, stumbling over to his expensive, fancy wine, about to gulp it down, then sighing, sipping it instead, looking at the fire still roaring. You pull up a seat, sitting in front of it and watching as the flames lick and snap, thinking of the man you’ve just married.

Who is he?

*****

You’re trying to actually go out, tired of getting lost in Sylus’s mansion a few days later, and you swear he’s cursed it at first, you couldn’t find the damn front door for days! His staff makes sure you have everything you need, but you’re alone, nothing but a phone Sylus bought you, with one damn number- his.

He texts you mockingly the next couple days, as you finally get the two men - Luke and Kieran - to escort you out, so you can breathe fresh air, but they just follow you like lost puppies- as Mephisto circles overhead. Every time you look at something they’re just buying it for you.

“I didn’t even-”

“Can’t make the boss look bad.” Luke scolds, buying you a pretty bracelet that you’d just touched.

“Not with all these eyes.” Kieran agrees, and you touch a little rose, cursing as he buys that now too. “Everyone knows the boss.”

“Caw!”

“Mephisto I didn’t ask you!” You scowl at the crow, and it flaps its wings at you, cawing even angrier. You finally get your phone out, video calling the only number, surprised when he actually answers.

“I’m busy, what is it?” He says, and you take in his surroundings, likely some fancy suite as he sits with his gun.

“Busy? Not a way to greet your wife.” He rolls his ruby eyes now.

“Mmm, and what does my wife need?”

“To know why are these two bozos following me everywhere I go and watching me like a hawk, hmm?” 

“Bozo, who’s a bozo huh?” Luke crosses his arms then, tilting his head, and Kieran does the same.

“Boss, you need to get your girl under control.” Kieran says.

“Caw!” Mephisto is circling you, as you’re just trying to shop, but no of course now you’re all a spectacle, everyone is whispering about the three - four if you count Mephisto- of you all standing there.

That’s Sylus’s wife!

She seems a little angry.

She’s yelling at that bird!

Oh fuck everyone.

You sigh as Sylus laughs at you. “You seem really worked up, do you need anything?” His intentions are clear, and you act as if it’s the sun warming your skin and not his words.

The memories.

His tongue and fingers pushing you to climax over and over, god your tummy clenches just thinking of it. And missing a man you barely fucking know - one that you want to learn, a mystery of a person truly. What was there about him that was making you this way? 

“What I need is to not be babysat by these two, and your crow! Everywhere I go.” You’re scowling at Sylus’s amused face on the video call, as he sets you down on his desk, raising a brow and pulling out a gun, cleaning it calmly, meticulously, as if everything is peachy. “What are you even doing?”

“I’m resting before a mission, sweetie.”

“Cleaning your gun is… relaxing?”

“Mmm, you should try it.” You giggle then, you can’t help it, and the sound over the phone along with your pretty face lit by the sun does something to him then, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Would you trust me with a gun?” He shakes his head as he looks down where he’s polishing that barrel, lips quirked up.

“Absolutely not. Now,” he sets the gun down, picking the phone up and looking directly at you. “You are my wife, and that’s why they’re there - to protect you.”

His wife.

The way he says that does something, as badly as you want to be annoyed- there’s another part that’s touched by him, his care, his words, even if it’s overbearing, overprotective. You want to shove it down, the longing for someone you barely know, who overall annoys you with his arrogant attitude, but something just clicks as you meet his eyes on the screen.

“Okay fine, but… Mephisto?”

“Caw, caw, caw!”

He laughs genuinely, running a hand through his silvery locks, leaning an elbow on that table as he looks at you. “Mephisto is for me to keep an eye on you - ah there’s that cute little scowl, angry kitten.”

“You say that like you don’t purr.” Your turn to smirk as he glares, then you hang up on him, facing the two angry men now. “Look, I was rude, okay? I’m sorry.”

They look at each other, then at you, both nodding. Mephisto caws and flaps his black and gold wings, and you hold out your arm for him to land, gently touching one of his gears. “Caw?”

“I was rude to you too. I just… it’s a new, stressful situation. Maybe you all could teach me more about him?”

“About the boss?”

“We know all about the boss!”

“Caw!”

Soon the four of you are back home, and you’re in one of Sylus’s room- his music room, it seems, there is an organ that looks like it belongs in beauty and the beast itself, a record player sitting there, you gently push down the fine bronze point, as music fills the room. It’s slow and beautiful, the sounds from it, your eyes close and it’s as if you feel him there.

Every day you’ve tried to explore this mansion, slowly and bit by bit, to reveal more of the mysterious ‘boss’ and ‘leader’. But moreso, the man that instead of lying with you that night, let you have his room to yourself, pleasured you and asked nothing in return, let you have the choice.

Who was Sylus?

“Boss loves music.” Luke states the obvious, you giggle a bit, turning to look at them now.

“Well I see that. And he loves art, and pretty jewels.” You walk up to the display glasses, where he’s gathering trinkets like some dragon in a cave.

“He loves beautiful things. Probably why he was so adamant about us watching over you- oof!” Kieran gets elbowed by Luke then, and you shyly look back down at the glass, fingers hovering over, afraid to leave a print.

Did Sylus find you pretty like these jewels?

*****

One week without Sylus, and it seems like the longest week of your life- when what was without him before? You lived without him all of your twenty four years, but you find yourself giggling at his texts, playing silly phone games with him even, as if the two of you have become…

What are you?

He sends a ‘Good Night Kitten’ you send a ‘Good night Crow’.

He sent a picture of himself ‘on accident’ he says, but you don’t believe him at all, apparently he was trying to video call you and it sent - him shirtless, towel slung low over his hips, body glistening. You think he’s trying to thirst trap you - that damn man knows how fine he is and makes no act to appear humble about it. He keeps making little remarks as if you could forget that night.

Kitten seems angry, does she need something?

You find yourself sleeping in his bed alone, touching yourself to the memory of his lips sucking in your clit, humming on it, his long, thick fingers stretching you out. You can’t help yourself, every time you try to not think of him, there he is, hovering right over you. You know he’s coming back tomorrow, and you feel like he’ll get his answer then, an unequivocal yes.

Sylus walks in quietly that night, just a little early - but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he was dying to see you, to feel you. Fuck, he couldn’t stop himself from stroking his cock thinking of you, remembering your sweet taste and how you coated his face with your arousal. God you did things to him, but more than that - he wonders who you are.

The teasing all week on the phone - yes, he meant to send that image - had him even more intrigued, you’re funny and smart - too smart at times. A smart ass, and he would know, he tends to be one himself. Mephisto’s reports along with Luke and Kieran were showing how they were in just a week falling for the lady of Sylus’s manor, and that’s what you were.

His.

The need to claim you is so fierce, to fucking breed you, but he must let this be your choice, he wants you to come to him. That night his steps are quiet, when he opens the door, expecting you to be asleep, but he hears it then, your whine out, that sexy little moan. He pauses, fingers gripping the brass knob, as he sees the blankets raise just a bit - hears your soft whines.

Fuck, are you touching yourself?

“Mnh! Ugh, it won’t work.” You let out a frustrated huff, shoving your blankets down, when you see him.

Shit.

“Sylus!? I thought um… you were… I had a bad dream, is all! Nothing else is going on here!” You’re panicking, as this man just smirks, shutting the door behind himself casually, taking off his black leather jacket and propping it on the coat stand then, as you shift in his bed.

“Oh, is that so? What was the dream about, sweetie?” His soft, husky voice just makes you ache more, as he so casually sits, undoing his laces of his boots.

“Um… just a weird one. Do you… need help?” You ask then, he pauses, nodding a little, watching you leave his bed now, your shorts so askew it told right on you, you’re wearing a little black top that covered nothing and a pair of black panties, revealing too much of your pretty body.

“I should ask you the same - if you need help.” He murmurs, brushing your hair back when you get on your knees before him, making his mind go wild, while your fingers tug on the thick black laces.

“Need help with what?” Your innocent question is met with your eyes meeting his, easing his boots down, one by one, placing you right between his thighs, Sylus tilts your chin up then, calloused thumb brushing your lower lip softly.

“Sounds like you were having trouble, I could help now that I’m here.” He smiles as that color hits your skin, as your cheek is hot to his touch, and your shaky hands touch his thighs over his jeans. “Shouldn’t a good husband help his wife?”

“You love to tease me, don’t you?” Your knees press against the plush rug, as you unbutton his jeans, watching the usually confident man pause, his hands gripping your hair then, at the nape of your neck, while the sound of his zipper echoes off the walls. “Something wrong, Sylus?”

“What do you think you’re playing at?” His voice breaks then, thoughts of you sucking his cock nearly ending him - it was one thing to please, he’s very confident in his abilities to make a woman cum, but seeing you like this would end him.

“Maybe I’m returning the treatment. Should I leave a week after you cum over and over too?” He glares now, standing, so lanky and tall you hardly reach him on your knees, having to look up at him, towering over you, cock outlined in silky black - begging for you to touch it.

“You have the brattiest attitude, should we do something about that?” He slips his top off then, and you’re met with that perfect, sculpted physique, tracing your fingers across a sculpted abdominal, watching his head fall back, moaning softly, making your cunt throb around nothing.

“What do you have in mind, a lesson?” He can’t stop his moan when you tug at his pants, slowly revealing more of him, until he yanks you up, earning your pout. “Do you not want me to?”

“Do I not want you to, what a stupid question, foolish kitten.” You glare again, just becoming more attractive, when he lifts you up, sitting you on his bed now, slipping off your top and moaning softly as your breasts spill out. “I don’t want your knees to hurt.”

“Oh…” You’re so touched then, by his thoughtfulness, while he slips off his boxers, revealing himself now - thick, hard and so pretty, reddened tip leaking white pearly precum. You see how big it is, almost intimidating, touching it then with your hand, feeling it burning and so heavy, and eliciting a…

Is that a whimper?

Fascinated you repeat the action, he instead this time moans softly, huskily, eyes darkening as he strokes your hair back gently. “Touch yourself for me, show me what you were doing, hmm?”

You nod, a jerky motion, as he spreads your thighs, and you reach under your panties, finding your soaking wet clit and whining, right when Sylus tugs gently at your chin.

“Open, Kitten.”

You obey him so easy, where is the feisty little thing he knows? She’s in there, but you’re sweet, pliant, shy even, as you open your mouth looking so wanton, and his cock leaks even more, twitching when he finally brushes it on your tongue. You’re lapping his sweet pre cum up then, tonguing the slit and trembling when your hands falter on your pussy.

“Rub circles on that little clit, hmm? Press up a bit. F-fuck… you’re doing such a good job, sweetie.” He’s gripping your hair as you suck him, and you do as he says, feeling your clit tighten up, as you’re ruining your panties, looking up at him under your lashes. “Beautiful…”

Beautiful.

You tremble more as he gazes so intensely down at you, staring at you like you’re the only thing there is, you know you shouldn’t think that way - you know he’s probably just enjoying this, but there is something so addictive to his look. To how he’s stroking his cock in and out of your mouth, so easy with his motions, gasping when you suck harder, tongue lolling on the ridge of his tip.

“Still can’t cum without me, hmm?” He’s whispering, but you pull back, strings of saliva dripping from his blushing tip, pulling back your fingers and showing them glistening.

“I can, I just… am failing currently.” He shocks you then, climbing onto the bed now, laying on his back. You go to suck him again, when he flips you around, dragging your panties off in one motion, then putting your thighs on either side of his head, your hot eager cunt right on his face. “Sylus!”

“Hmm, fuck I missed your taste.” Did he say that out loud? Or was it muffled into your perfect cunt? He parts your folds, seeing how wet you are as it drools down him, slipping a finger inside you. “Miss me?”

“Just a bit,” you try to tease, leaning over him now, arms on either side of his thighs for balance, hair falling against his bare thighs, as you lap a line down his cock again, making him groan. “You miss me?”

“Just a little.” He drags you back down on his face hungrily, licking a filthy line from your clit all the way to your ass, and you almost choke on him as you take him deep in your throat, body shaking over him. “Mmm, she sure missed me.”

“She did.” You admit after pulling up with a suctioned pop, and then your eyes roll back in your skull, as he sucks and hums against your clit. “M’gonna cum!”

“Mmm,” he’s just humming quicker, feeling your mouth fail to hardly move, you’re in the throes of cumming all down his handsome face. He urges you then, hands gripping the fat of your ass, pressing you down even further until his face is fucking buried against your cunt.

“S-Sylus!”

His name, you moaned his name.

You’re trying to press hasty kisses to his hips as you cum so hard you can’t think, gushing down his face and drenching him in your arousal, his face, his throat, his fucking lips. He almost cums from just that, feeling you shake and tremble while you blink back your vision, which has gone black from how hard your release rocked you, walls fluttering around nothing, dying for more.

You feel so greedy then, thinking of how badly you want him inside you, stroking his pretty cock gently, as he drinks up all he can. “Oh my god…”

“Mmm, you got wetter than last time, didn’t know that was possible.” You’re covering your nervous blush against his thigh, as he chuckles softly. “You don’t have to finish, Kitten, I can just do this.”

“Sylus, I…” You ease off him with his help, turning and straddling with trembling thighs, making Sylus tense when he feels it, you pressing on his cock, he grabs your waist bruisingly, eyeing you.

“That’s dangerous, sweetie, I can only hold back so much.” You lean over him now, lips hovering just an inch, gripping his wrists with your little hands, and he smirks up at you. “Are you a big, bad, scary kitten?”

“Maybe I am, and you’re a sweet little crow.” He scowls just a bit, only making you wetter, as you grind on him now, and he immediately loosens your grip, hands flying to your hips as his tip twitches against your slit.

“Are you…” You press him back down, making him huff, blinking up at you as his eyes glow bright fucking red, and you’re cupping his face, thumb tracing a cheek bone.

“Sylus, I have your answer.” He swallows then, breathing heavier and heavier, as his hands trail up your spine, then back down, cock leaking all that precum right against you.

“Do you now? What’s the answer then, sweetheart?”

You press a kiss on his lips, both of you taste each other, one of his huge hands entangling in your hair, as your bodies move just slightly, casting your silhouettes across the dark walls in the night. “The answer is yes, I want this Sylus. I want you.”

“Oh, sweetie…” He can’t stop himself, his emotions he always holds back, when you whisper those words. “Not just because you have to?”

His words break you, tears burning your eyes, as you shake your head. “How could I not want you?”

He’s ended then, drowning in your kisses, letting you take control - for this moment, he muses - and reach down as he lifts your hips up, and you rub his tip along your folds, earning the most pornographic and filthy moans, mixing with your soft ones as your head falls back, hair falling like a curtain down your shoulder blades. He watches you, hands holding you up, suspended, eyeing you again.

“Still sure?” You nod eagerly, he exhales at that, pressing you down just a bit, watching your tight little cunt try to suck him up and struggling, so tight he could cum just from his tip sinking in.

“Oh my god, s’big I…” You’re struggling when he yanks you forward, until you’re resting on his chest, and he’s pulling back, sliding deeper while he watches your every expression, hands slipping down to your ass to grip you.

“If it hurts, tell me, you’re so tight…” He whispers, and you nod, so touched by his care, before he sinks you half way down, groaning and kissing you now, you kiss him back, hungry, messy, your nails pressing into his shoulders. “Oh, fuck feel you, this tight around me? Does she want more?”

“Yes, yes, please…” He manages a breathless laugh, lifting you up and dragging you down more of his inches- god how many inches - stuffing you so full while you gush all around him, clinging and trembling.

“Please, is this what I had to do to make my kitten sweet?” You’d glare but he’s shoved more of his cock - how much was there god you couldn’t take it all - you’re shaking as your cunt stretches to accommodate- the pressure building in your tummy while he caresses your face, brushing your hair behind your ear and exhaling.

God, you feel perfect around him.

“You tell me when you’re ready to move.” He whispers, you nod, trying to adjust, gasping as you shift your hips and his tip drags on your spot, and he feels those walls just clench around him like a vise, eyes avidly watching your face and just how pretty it is when in pleasure.

“I’m ready, please.” Your throaty whisper destroys him, he picks you up once more, yanking you down his length fully now, you scream out at it, head falling back, your breasts right in his face, he catches a nipple between his sharp teeth. “Oh! Sylus mnh!”

“Perfect, you’re perfect.” He can’t stop it, the words from spilling, as he pumps up into your cunt now, flats of his feet on the enormous bed, jerking his cock so deep he bottoms out as much as he can in you, tip kissing your cervix.

“Ah! Mnh! F-fuck… you’re so big.” You’re sobbing the words out, when he grinds you on him, hugging your body against his, and you’re cupping his face, lips just hovering, noses touching.

“Can you take more in your perfect little cunt?” He groans as you nod, and he fucks up into you harder now, sounds of skin slapping and your soppy cunt echoing, he’s flipped you then, holding one of your thighs up high, eyeing the bulge his cock makes inside you and getting fucking feral.

“So deep!” You buck off the bed, and he moans now, slowly pulling out, sole of your foot on his chest while he watches your cunt suck him in so greedily, disappearing his huge cock in your body, watching your tummy move. Fuck he was getting ruined at the sight, but when you cry out and jerk and he pauses.

“Are you hurt?” His soft ask is such a delicious contradiction to his commanding presence, huge body tense, as you shake your head, take a breath, letting him sigh in relief as he tilts your chin down now. “Look at me inside you, can’t even take all of me, can you?”

One moment sweet, one moment sarcastic and cocky, but you cannot think of anything when you see it too, the way your stomach expands with his cock so deep. All you can do is bite your lip, hands slipping up his obliques, feeling the muscles move as he shoves hard then, it hurts so good, and he notices, repeating it then, over and over again.

“That’s it, you like that, don’t you kitten?” You weakly nod, there are no more words, not when Sylus is pounding your pretty pussy with his huge cock, leaning lower, letting your legs wrap his narrow hips. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

You just nod again, it’s apparently all you’re capable of as this man fucks your brain out. He moans softly when he kisses you, jerking his hips just so, as you fall apart underneath him, orgasm rocking through you, he has to pause, you’re squeezing so fucking hard and pulsing. “Ah, S-Sylus - ngh!”

“Milking my cock, already,” he’s losing it with you, fucking you through one orgasm and into another, feeling you gush down him, down your ass, his heavy balls smacking it, then futher- soaking his covers. “Fuck…”

He slows his thrusts now, laying on top of you, hand entwining as his eyes drink your pretty face in, you grip him then, struggling to breathe, as his heart races so fast against your breasts, and you both pause. You stare into endless rubies of his eyes, as he squeezes your hand so tightly, the red ropes of energy binding your wrists together even more tightly.

You look at it then, nervously, then back at him, as he stares at the connection. “Are you…”

“It’s not on purpose.” He murmurs, looking as it swirls, and you feel him throb inside you, his tip oozing against your abused cervix. “Another choice, kitten. I can cum inside your perfect cunt,” he thrusts once more, watching your eyes flutter shut in pleasure. “Or I can pull out, and we wait until you want it.”

Your choice, again.

But you want him inside you, buried to the fucking hilt, opening your eyes and feasting on the man on top of you. “I want you to cum inside me, Sylus.”

Fuck.

He almost busts then, but he pauses, clutching your hand and pressing you deeper into his mattress, taking you over. “You want me to fill you up, sweetie?”

“Please,” Sylus moans heavily, kissing you as he fucks into you deep, long strokes, and your hand grips him, the other entangling in his hair as your tongues dance with each other, and he pounds harder and harder. “Please, please, please- ah!”

“Fill you up so much, you won’t be able to walk, kitten.” His eyes flash dangerously as he slams into you one more time, white hot cum pouring from his cock, and when he does, the light red rope glows more, burning hot on each of your wrists as he cries out against your ear, burying his face in your neck. “Oh, fuck, f-feel her…”

You’re a pathetic mess, twitching around him as he coats those walls, trying to catch a breath. He leans up then, the ropes fading, pulling out his cock, you watch as the cum just pours out of your slutty little hole, and he delights in seeing it. A mix of all your arousal and his load is slipping out of you as your hole puckers and quivers, spasming from the aftershocks of him.

“Such a messy girl, aren’t you…” He sighs as he pulls back, toying with his own cum, smirking as your hips jerk.

Is he sweet or an ass!?

Is he both?

He is something else then, when his eyes are so red they’re shining, and he’s slipping his two fingers up and down you, making your sensitive cunt throb in response, aching from his stretch. “Ah-ah, you said you wanted it, you even said please, yet here it is, wasted. That won’t do.”

“What do you- ah! F-fuck!” You’re breathless when he shoves his own cum back in your cunt, smirking down at you, silver hair falling over his brow then. “Sensitive mnh!”

“Mmm, you don’t want to keep it in? That won’t do.” He’s pouting, slipping more of the cum inside your sore little entrance, enjoying you far too much, you’re covered in a sheen of sweat, face so fucked out, there’s just a little drool on the corner of your mouth dripping.

You’re so beautiful.

“Be a good kitten.”

“Mean crow, mnh!” You yank his wrist then, taking his hand, and he glares as you put it to your lips now, lapping him off you with a stroke of your tongue, smirking right back at him. “Can’t take it?”

“You’re a brat.” He flips you over then, you gasp at it, slipping two fingers back inside you and pressing up.

“Sylus, we just…”

“Think I’m done with you yet?”

*****

Two weeks later

Sylus cannot stop fucking his new bride- no he needs to fuck her in every room of his mansion, hear her moans and cries, feel her perfect pussy clenching him. He has to make sure every inch of the room has had her arousal dripping down onto it, that he makes sure to have her taste on him constantly. He soaks in you like the sweetest perfume there ever could be.

He left for days again, in his office, and you eagerly came to meet him, kissing him deeply, only to get bent over it, his cock shoved so deep as he lifted up the skirt you’re wearing, his hand on yours over the desk. Breathing heavy in your ear, he can’t get enough of you, not even fucking close, reaching under your chin to cup it and tilt your lips to his.

“Miss me, kitten?” He whispers, and you shock him then, arching your ass for more and earning his groan, as you nod.

“I missed you.” Sylus pauses then, hand squeezes yours brutally, his other on your hip, his cock twitching inside you, as the two of you inhale and exhale each other. “Don’t stop, please.”

“You missed me?” He says again, you nod, you’re tired of acting like you don’t, like you aren’t falling for your husband.

Like he doesn’t make you so happy.

Like he doesn’t drink you up at every opportunity.

Like you don’t love being held in his fucking arms at night.

Like you don’t just literally enjoy him - his laugh, his kindness, his humor, god everything about his presence.

Like is a weak word, a wrong word…

“I missed you too, kitten.” His husky declaration is met with him fucking you harder, deeper, hand choking your throat and squeezing, taking your oxygen as he kisses you, drinking up your cries, busting his hot ropes so deep you’re cumming right with him.

When he’s done he never just leaves, no he’s cleaning you up - lapping his own cum out of your cunt eagerly as you’re spread on his dark wood desk, head falling back while he makes you cum again. He lavishes every inch of your walls as he scoops out the taste of both of you, pulling back and kissing you deeply, saliva dripping so you taste it too.

“Fuck, you distracted me. I got you something.” He murmurs then, taking a shaky breath and pulling up his pants, leaving them undone just a bit. 

“Y=you did?” You swipe at your mouth, standing with his help, when he pulls out a black, rectangular velvet box.

“I went to an auction, this belonged to a princess.” You’re gasping as you see it, glittering diamonds and rubies - almost as beautiful as his eyes.

“Sylus you didn’t have to do this…”

“No, sweetie, I do. Hold up your hair for me, turn around.” You obey his gentle orders, lifting your hair for him, feeling the cold metal hit your collarbones, as he rests the necklace on you. He clasps it now, sending shivers down your spine as his fingers dance across your neck. “Let me see.”

You turn back around and he sighs, looking how beautiful you are, your breasts rising and falling with every breath. He wants to say it - foolish words - that he’s falling, but he is terrified. A man like him, who can annihilate a room of monsters like it’s nothing, a man who is feared has just one weakness.

You.

“It’s beautiful, thank you so much.” You whisper, touching it, seeing how the prismatic gems reflect the soft lights. “I love it.”

“It looks perfect on your chest.” He tilts your chin up, kissing you then. “Go get ready for dinner, I want you to wear it.

After dinner Sylus’s always perfect - until you - control slips.

You’re on his lap, as the two of you sip the wine, and you giggle suddenly, the sound that makes his heart always race. “What is it, kitten?”

“Remember you spit wine in my mouth?” He blushes then, and you giggle more. “You’re so cute.”

“Cute!? I’m not cute, that’s you.”

“Mmhmm. What if I do it to you?” He pulls you closer, brushing your hair back gently, as you sip the red wine.

“I’d let you do anything to me.” His words are so soft, so impactful then, your heart hammers as the blood rushes to your ears.

“Anything, hmm? Where's the big bad leader?” You’re trying to keep it light, teasing, but he lowers his gaze to that necklace, thumbing the delicate skin around it, making you gasp.

“I’m afraid he’s been destroyed by a kitten he loves.” You blink rapidly, the words don’t feel real, there’s no way he…

Does he…

Feel the same way?

You’re so quiet he looks away, his hand falling. “Endless ammunition I just gave you against me-”

“Sylus…” He looks back, and you’re crying then, tears streaming down your cheeks, he falters, swiping at them gently.

“Yes?” His words are quiet, careful, you lean in, cupping his face, fingers tracing his sharp jaw.

“I love you too.” He slams his lips on yours, desperate and messy, as he lifts you up, propping you on the table and shoving plates away, you gasp as they clatter down to the floor, eyes wide on him.

“Say that again, kitten. Louder.” He’s shoving up your dress, eagerly slipping his hand between your thighs, your back arches as his fingers fill you, fingers you missed for days, his lips trailing up your neck, loud, messy kisses.

“I love you, Sylus.” He exhales so shaky, pulling back and gripping your hair at the nape of your neck, fingers entwined as he finds your spot, making you drool on him, while you fall even deeper into his gaze.

“I love you, , you mean, angry little kitten. Ruined me.”

“Hey now!” You’re laughing softly, but it’s cut off by his fingers, and your laugh is turned into a desperate cry. Sylus fucks you right there, uncaring of poor Mephisto flying by, who darts out as quickly as he came, and you soon find yourself in only the necklace, on your hands and knees on his bed.

“Mine, mine…” He keeps repeating them like a mantra, pressing his thumbs in the simples of your back. “Can’t wait to breed you, god. You want that?” He whispers, bending over you, and slamming so deep, necklace dangling as he hits every spot, hands gripping your hips hard.

“Breed me.”

“What do good kittens say?” You glare, just making him closer to cumming, and he pauses, reaching around to press a hand on your tummy. “Do you want all my babies so deep inside you?”

“Y-yes. I do.” You bite your lip, and he smirks again. “Please?”

“Good girl.”

Sylus will give his pretty bride anything she wants - if it’s a mating press where he fucks endless loads of cum inside her, if it’s just holding her in his arms and stroking her hair after a bad day. He’ll give her any snacks she’s craving when one day she’s full of his babies, and he’ll make sure she stays full of him. He’ll buy her anything that catches her pretty eyes and makes her smile, he’ll sing her to sleep.

He’ll do anything for his wife, a wife he fell so in love with - some would say, he became obsessed with her.

With you.

Ahhh I hope you all enjoyed this!! I had way too much fun - I love arranged Marriage tropes and had to do one for Sylus. Happy birthday Lil S! If you'd like more Sylus lmk in the comments or inbox any ideas for our dragon bc I love him<3

taglist 1 - @moggleatlife @sunsets-and-crows @musiclover2119 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @sylvieisoffline @littlecatjn @rwirxles @byssel @storiesbyparadise @saiouma-owamiki @emochosoluvr @simp-plague @thejujvtsupost @venussakura @kavya-gangwar @katcafe-zz @angelzrulez21-blog @maisiefrancesca @terriblesoup @bimbohkitty @sanzy4 @everythingseasoning @harmonyrae @tinyweebsstuff @genshingeeksworld @monster-effer @ninikrumbs @curlyhairkk @queenexplosonmurderr @lighting-and-shadow @coldhoneyy @take-metothe-moon @dairyfaerie @genshingeeksworld @uarmyhopeworldwide @sen-nes @cchiiwinkle @jellyfishstarx @iluminaya @96jnie @demon-master-zero @milkynymphsworld @justpassingdontworry @coldhoneyy @chich1ookie @satansdaughter123 @ninikrumbs @ilovegojo7

[tinyfantasminha]

Recently I saw an user say they feel weird about the brazilian Ruggie headcanon because “poverty, thievery, and misery are often associated with Brazilians.” I've also seen non-brazilians hesitate to embrace this headcanon out of fear that it might come off as xenophobic or racist. So I wanted to give my perspective on the topic as a brazilian and why the BR!Ruggie hc means so much to us 🫶

If we were to assume that Ruggie is a shallow character whose only traits are “grew up in poverty, lives in a slum, and steals to get by,” and then directly link that to a nationality? Yeah, obviously that would be xenophobic. But that’s not what this HC is about. It’s about how he navigates life and survives despite a difficult background. Reducing Ruggie to just a ''poor pickpocket” does a huge disservice to his character. He’s a hard worker, works in multiple jobs at once and is constantly adapting to survive. This is the reality for millions of brazilians (and many other latinos too) GROWING UP POOR IS NOT SHAMEFUL. No one chooses poverty. People from underprivileged backgrounds often have no choice but to do what they must to survive. In a capitalist society being clever and even deceptive is often a survival skill. It's the PERSEVERANCE to succeed and the resilience it takes to fight for a dignified life that makes them admirable, not the methods they use. If you live in any Latin American country, it’s nearly impossible not to know someone who lives a life similar to Ruggie’s (or to have lived it yourself) And again, it’s not just about being poor!! It's about having to be creative to make resources/food/items last as much as they can, about teaching yourself new skills (like learning a new language on your own without access to paid classes), about being quick-thinking and cunning so you don’t miss out on opportunities, about the shared warmth of community food, and about keeping your humor and playful spirit alive even when life is hard. So when we say “Ruggie feels brazilian,” it’s not because of stereotypes even though we don't really feel offended with stereotypes most of the time tbh it's because he embodies a spirit we know so intimately, the hustle, the laughter through hardship, the cleverness born from necessity, and the hope for something better. It’s representation of a kind of resilience that deserves to be seen with pride, not shame.

[8-evil-annoying-catboys]

there is actually some sort of social phenomenon happening that can explain this and as a polyamorous person who has been polyamorous for like 10 years now i can say it’s kindaaa poisoning the watering hole for our community.

so basically, polyamorous people are still very much NOT accepted, but the stigma around open relationships in general is JUST starting to crack open. and through those cracks, first there was a trickle, which is now a steady stream, still growing towards a flood, of (usually, but not always, straight) people in terrible monogamous relationships who think that opening the relationship will fix it. spoiler alert: that’s not how any of this works, and when a monogamous relationship gets opened, that’s usually that relationship’s death rattle.

note: open relationships have to start out open within the first, oh, idk like 6 months at most, or they’re doomed. that’s not necessarily a hard line, but it might be a little too generous, tbh—open relationships take a LOT of work and a lot of people are, understandably, not up for that. this lifestyle isn’t for everyone, and that’s fine! the problem arises when people think they can just adapt to it. probably the only way a relationship that was monogamous would survive opening up after being established as a long-term relationship instead of before, is if both partners realise they’re polyamorous around the same time, and they’ve already worked on all their issues to the point that their relationship has few to no issues.

obviously, with that in mind, it’s clear that the couples that resemble the one described by OP won’t last. but that doesn’t stop them from trying it out, since they’ve started learning that open relationships exist, and specifically, a lot of toxic cishet men are extra eager to try ethical non-monogamy because, to them, this means they can more or less cheat* on their gf/wife without giving her a reason to leave them.

so they ask her to open the relationship, she says ok as long as she gets to have her share of fun too (if she has enough self-respect to even think of that), and he says that’s fine thinking they’ll both get about an equal amount of action, because he’s thinking of how dating was for him when he was single. but what he doesn’t plan for is that polyamorous people mostly are very feminist and polyamorous women in particular don’t want a misogynist cishet man, and monogamous women don’t want to be with a man in an open relationship, so he gets no extramarital** pussy, while his partner is busy pulling hot people like it’s her natural born talent and barely has energy left to have sex with him.

and this is why opening a relationship that was monogamous is a death rattle for the relationship 99% of the time: once the partner who asked to open the relationship realises that polyamorous dating is nothing like monogamous single person dating, and they have to put in the work to be someone people want to date (because single monogamous people are lonely and have lower standards because of that loneliness, but they still mostly don’t want to be involved in polyamory, and available polyamorous people mostly already have at least one partner, so they have higher standards than single people, since they aren’t lonely) then they want to close the relationship again, and their partner doesn’t want to because they’ve gotten a taste of the beautiful freedom of polyamory, or just a taste of how nicely they can be treated by people other than their current primary partner. this usually turns into a fight that snowballs with all their other problems that existed before they opened the relationship and weren’t fixed bc instead of doing the work to fix those problems they decided to just see other people while staying together… and they break up.

this problem has existed in the past, and that’s why being a unicorn is so lonely and dehumanising, and has been since basically forever, or at least as long as the concept has existed.. but it’s getting worse now that so many monogamous people are deciding to experiment with polyamory by diving right in, rather than taking the time to learn about the community and ethics, the way i did when i first learned that i was polyamorous, in which im sure im not alone.

but the dating pool for polyamorous people, as i said, is getting more and more poisoned with monogamous people in relationships that are like.. well, i guess like delayed landmines—it may not blow the very second a polyamorous person sets foot there, but once someone else does get involved in the relationship, it’s only a matter of time before it does explode. it used to be that unicorn hunters were mostly swingers, with some actual polyamorous people looking for a third, and a very small minority of the couples described here.

for the most part, to my understanding (since i was too young to be a unicorn before this trend in monogamy started ramping up, i have no direct experience but this is what i’ve heard): the dehumanising and lonely part of being a unicorn was looking for a couple that wanted an actual relationship with you, and only getting couples that wanted to use you for sex, and weren’t really very clear about it because its hard to find single unicorns who actually want that. now, more of these couples actually want a relationship, or at least one half of them wants that, but they don’t, like, get how what they’re doing is wrong. they drag polyamorous people into relationships that are dying and turn these beautiful human beings who have autonomy into just another Thing for them to fight about. it’s disgusting behavior and not ethical at all, but they consider it ‘ethical’ non-monogamy since it’s not cheating.

*i’ve said before that ethical non-monogamy isn’t cheating, but i’m framing it this way because a lot, dare i say most or even all of these couples don’t reckon with amatonormativity or learn anything meaningful about polyamory that would challenge their conception that cheating = having sexual or romantic relations with more than one person, and redefine it such that they understand cheating = lying and deceiving one or more of your partners and/or having sexual or romantic relations with someone other than your existing partner(s) without their knowledge AND consent. since they don’t get that, they see it as getting away with cheating, even if only subconsciously.

**technically ‘extramarital’ isn’t exactly the right word since not all of these couples are married, but you get what i mean

I don't know why this keeps happening but I keep meeting toxic heterosexual couples who experiment with polyamory and are heavily into funko pops, board games, Disney princesses and Burlesque stripping and the man is always a withdrawn bearded dude and the woman is always a passive aggressive control freak with an Etsy shop that sells lawn gnomes styled after Dr Who characters and they don't really even seem to like each other but they're always exactly the same. this has happened four times

[rika-mmendmethings]

Against Blood & Water l Sylus

Chapter 3

Ch 2|Chapter 4 next Wednesday

Summary: Seventeen years ago, your life had taken a turn for the worse when your newborn twins were separated from you by a cruel twist of fate. The same fate had led you to the N109 Zone, to your children who were all grown up now. Reconciliation with your boys would've been slightly easier had they somehow not acquired a father figure over the years who wasn't letting them go anytime soon.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. For this chapter: mentions and drugs, stalking, first meeting with Mephisto

Word count: 2.1k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: New chapter every Thursday! The schedule for this and Interdimensional Epiphany has been switched! The reader comes across Elysium and its special dishes. Just who do you think could've sent that for her? This story is for the Sylus girlies' who consider Luke and Kieran their babies. A little information on the timeline: in this story, the reader is 35 with Luke and Kieran being 17. Sylus never felt like 28 to me, so he's a hot-ass 39-year-old man (bear with me). The timeline is a bit confusing, I know, but soon it'll be cleared, too. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me, and I'll try my best to give you a proper answer without revealing too much. Let me know if you wish to be added to the tag list for this series. ♥

Tag list: @babyx91 @pillarofsnow @beyond-the-stars-fairy @yuki-sama6 @sylviewrites @idiashusband @sadmonke @monophobix @lunarvolley @stxrrielle @fries11 @gremlinartstudio @lillycore @novthirty @animegamerfox @cathedralofaudra @nm4565natty @69-gojos-wife-69 @eolivy @namjoons-toenails @silverianni @nezuswritingdesk @beaconsxd @justpassingdontworry @ruyaya @browneyedgirl22 @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @sneakysnakeysstuff @midiplier @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @dana-nite @lazeriii @into-deepspace @nommingonfood @eden-axe

“They work for… who?” You choked on your drink, one hand clutching your chest as you struggled to regain control of your lungs.

Ginerva didn’t even spare you a glance. She continued wiping the glasses with an air of aloofness, repeating herself with unnerving calm. “Onchyinus. Luke and Kieran work directly under the leader of Onchyinus.”

You could barely breathe. You clenched your fist against your mouth, brows knitted tightly, body rigid with tension. The initial shock had worn off, and now, panic began to rise like an insidious tide in your chest, relentless and consuming.

Your entire day had been spent combing through the N109 Zone in search of any scrap of information about your twins. Every time you mentioned their crow-themed outfits, or their apparent role as some kind of henchmen, people recoiled as if you had spoken of demons. Some were visibly shaken, others too frightened to speak. But one thing remained constant: no one would offer you any answers. Despite your best efforts — and an obscene amount of money — they dismissed you, fear clouding their expressions.

It wasn’t until one particularly kind soul directed you to a hidden intel hub masquerading as a bar — Elysium — that you finally felt you were getting closer. The cost was steep, but you didn’t care. You handed over the money without hesitation.

The woman behind the counter — Ginerva, you learned — seemed surprised by your inquiry, but she hadn’t dismissed you outright. She’d been more than willing to share what she knew, though you were beginning to regret your pursuit.

Now, you rubbed your temples as the beginnings of a migraine pulsed beneath your skull. With the haze of shock still clouding your thoughts, you managed to ask, “Are you absolutely sure this information is accurate?”

Ginerva paused her task, her gaze sharp as she turned toward you. Her voice was flat, devoid of any warmth. “I’ve run this place for years.”

You didn’t argue. After all it’s better to not tell a professional about their profession, you had plenty of experience on that. Leaning back in your chair, you swirled the last of your drink around in the glass, trying to gather your thoughts. “How long have they worked for Onchyinus?”

Ginerva seemed to deliberate for a moment. “I’d say one or two years. Before that, their history is unknown.”

Your heart constricted painfully, and you swallowed the remainder of your drink in one go. The bitter liquid burned its way down your throat, but it did little to extinguish the fire of dread spreading through your chest. You would’ve preferred to think of your children being under Onchyinus’s wing from the start — if only to imagine they had been protected from the horrors of the streets. At least there would have been food, shelter, some semblance of care. Whatever twisted morality they’d adopted under the faction’s influence would have been easier to accept than the thought of them suffering alone, vulnerable to the world’s cruelties.

You shoved the guilt, raw and uninvited, back into the darkest corners of your mind. Now was not the time to revisit your worst nightmares. You needed a plan, a way to infiltrate the damned place, to find them.

You were deep in thought when a plate was suddenly set down in front of you by a small girl — probably Aislinn, Ginerva's niece. She handed you a menu displaying the day's special and said, “Today’s special is for the lady, and none other.” With that, she left, leaving you both perplexed and curious.

Today’s Special: Friend’s Incentive

Midnight black sesame tart, cacao nibs, bourbon-infused syrup, Victorian-era rhododendrons, and twin mirrors facing each other.

Description: Read the opposite.

A frown creased your brow as you read the menu again, trying to make sense of it. Friend’s Incentive? The idea that today’s special had been sponsored by someone specifically for you made no sense. You didn’t know a single person in the N109 Zone. You glanced down at the dish in front of you, and sure enough, a midnight black sesame tart sat in the center, garnished with cacao nibs and a dollop of what you presumed to be bourbon-infused syrup.

Next to the plate was a small bouquet of four orange rhododendrons, but something about it felt off. Three of the flowers were wrapped in newspaper, while the fourth one was left exposed, not inside the wrapping and attached to the bouquet only by a white ribbon. You blinked in confusion. What an unusual way to arrange a bouquet.

You shrugged off the oddities and took a large bite of the free dessert. The bittersweetness hit your taste buds immediately, making you scrunch your nose in reaction. You set your spoon down after finishing the dessert, but something in the back of your mind kept gnawing at you. You looked back at the menu, staring at it intently. It was bothering you. The more you examined it, the more it didn’t sit right.

Your mind, trained in law, began to analyze the situation more critically. A strange arrangement of flowers, a dessert meant only for you, and the vague description of the dish — there was something hidden here. One thing at a time, you told yourself. You needed to figure out what the description meant.

“Read the opposite.” But which word was the opposite? It couldn’t be the ingredients themselves, so it must be the title.

What, then, was the opposite of “Friend’s Incentive”? You pondered this for a moment and quickly pulled out your phone to check the most accurate antonyms for each word. For “friend,” the options were: enemy, nemesis, rival, and... fiend. For “incentive,” the antonyms included: damper, curb, hindrance, and... deterrent.

You paused as the realization hit. In this context, the most fitting opposite to “Friend’s Incentive” would be “Fiend’s Deterrent.”

Was this… a warning? Someone sinister could have sent you this to dissuade you from your path. The dessert, bittersweet, seemed to speak volumes. Could it imply that someone is sweetly telling you to step away before their patience turns bitter over a prolonged time? The odd arrangement of the flowers — one stray blossom hanging outside the wrapping, yet still tethered to the bouquet by a white ribbon — might suggest a complex message: they don’t want you to be part of something you are already entangled with, yet the bond remains, reluctantly. And the choice of flowers being rhododendrons — those flowers that, in Victorian floriography, symbolized danger, warning, and caution — was a direct message, a harbinger of something more ominous.

But what of the twin mirrors facing each other? What did that mean? Something connected to your children, perhaps, but it remained unclear, slipping just beyond your reach.

It somehow felt like it was all pointed to Luke and Kieran.

But who, exactly, was trying to steer you off course — and, more importantly, why?

You caught a glimpse of Aislinn walking past the corner, and instinctively, you called out to her. "Aislinn, who sponsored today's special?"

The little girl paused, shaking her head, her eyes downcast. "We aren’t allowed to disclose any personal information about our sponsors. Sorry." She offered a quick, apologetic smile before skipping away with her empty tray.

You sighed, folding the menu neatly and tucking it into your pocket. You snapped a few photos of the eerie bouquet, certain you'd need them as evidence to add to your ever-growing conspiracy board.

As you walked down the musty lanes of the street, the occasional sound of a wing flapping tickled your ear, followed by that unmistakable sensation — one which usually occurs when the opposition lawyer drilled holes in your head or in simpler terms, when you were being watched.

The events of today have only sharpened your caution and given the times you’ve been chased by goons of wealthy criminals so that you’d give up their cases — you were willing to take any measures for your safety if danger arose any moment now. You took shallow breaths, increasing your pace. Each step was deliberate, each turn smooth, as you made sharp corners, trying to lose the stalker in a maze of alleyways.

You had been running for a while when it became clear: your pursuer wasn’t human. It was most likely a drone or some mechanical contraption, a tool sent to monitor your every move. This deduction meant that actually catching said-stalking-object had very slim chances. 

You ducked behind a small billboard and pressed your clasped hands to your chest. In a matter of few seconds, you felt the familiar sense of clarity in your mind as your evol influenced all the possible outcomes, manipulating probabilities in your favor. 

A strained caw broke the silence, and your eyes immediately snapped to the source of the sound. There, perched on a streetlight, was a crow — except it wasn’t a crow at all. Its metallic sheen and erratic movements betrayed it for what it was: a mechanical bird.

You reached for your gun, drawing it with practiced ease, aiming at the strange creature. Your palms tingled as you steadied your aim and squeezed the trigger. The crow dropped from its perch in a graceful, fluid arc, landing with a muted thud.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, slipping the gun back into its holster beneath your coat. You moved toward the fallen mechanical bird, your mind racing with questions about who would send such a thing after you.

Perks of having a probability evol was altering all chances of any kind of event in your favor and the bird at your feet, broken and twitching with its damaged wing, was a testament to that. 

You carefully picked up the mechanical bird, examining it with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. The bullet had torn through its left wing, but it still whirred faintly, as though alive and with the way it was cawing, you almost felt bad for the insentient being. But then again, someone had planted it on your back, intending to keep tabs on whatever you do, so you couldn’t brush this off easily. 

Without further hesitation, you stuffed the damaged bird into your handy tote bag and made your way back to your apartment. Once inside, you immediately locked all windows and doors, ensuring your sanctuary was secure.

The first thing you did after that was duct tape the bird to your newly constructed conspiracy board. As you affixed it with care, you added the unsettling polaroid of the bouquet and the menu you had pocketed, the items now firmly part of the growing puzzle you had yet to solve. You double-checked the bird, making sure it was securely taped in place, though you knew it wouldn’t be going anywhere with its broken wing.

After freshening up, you hurried back to your conspiracy board, a steaming bowl of cup noodles in hand. As your gaze fell upon your previous board — the one centered on exposing the infamous drug lord — you felt an undeniable wave of guilt cloud your thoughts. You had been supposed to gather enough evidence and bring the case to court as soon as possible, to deliver justice to the victims’ families. But here you were, tangled in a web of your own problems, dealing with something far more personal — your children.

On days like this, you couldn’t help but resent your profession. It never allowed you the luxury of selfishness. You rubbed your face in frustration, tears threatening to well in your eyes. Maybe you could juggle both cases? Pursue whichever lead came your way first? Surely, that could work... right? It had to.

You shoved your emotions aside and paced the room, your mind racing. Occasionally, you found yourself locking eyes with the mechanical bird — its red, beady gaze a constant reminder of the unknown forces circling you. After walking laps around your couch, an idea hit you like a lightning bolt. Without hesitation, you rushed to the bird, ripping it free from its tape restraints and inspecting it closely.

You noticed a small red LED light blinking beneath its talon. Years of experience told you immediately that it was a long-range tracker. 

That meant whoever had planted it on you knew exactly where it was at all times.

Before you could fully process this, a sharp knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. Panic instantly flooded your system. You instinctively reached for your gun and inched closer to the door, heart hammering in your chest. Gods, was this it? Was this how it ended? And for all the legal battles you fought, you didn’t even have a will in place. 

Was fate going to rip you apart from your twins once again after all this time?

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[astrologanize]

pick a card : what you can look forward to in 2025 🔮 

*please take a moment to take a deep breath and choose the image you are most drawn towards* more 2025 content

credit to goodpngs

———-for pile 1 ⊹

the veil of fear that has been plastered to your life will finally be lifting this year. up until this year you have been on guard and on the defense as a way to avoid any fears coming to fruition. this may have manifested as you expending your energy towards strategizing and trying to be two-steps ahead at all times and/or you desperately clinging to what you have in your life and being willing to do anything to keep it in your life due to the fear of change.

as the year progresses you will be seeing situations for what they are & seeing people for who they are instead of what you want them to be. you are definitely someone who has a tendency of getting a little too in their head and viewing life as a board game rather than endless experiences for you to embrace. but you will start prioritizing yourself in a way that is conducive this year and you may even shock yourself as you stop extending & adjusting so much towards the opinions/feelings of others or certain connections. heck, you might even have a confrontation or two that's going to make you feel empowered.

work is coming through strongly for this pile so if you've been looking for a job or looking for a new job or are trying to better your performance at your job or are trying to find your way on your career path then i am seeing notable progress happening this year. some of you may start working out, changing your diet to something that is 'cleaner' or 'fresher', etc. there is something about self-discipline & work that is going to be happening for you this year that you are going to be very pleasantly surprised by.

———-for pile 2 ⊹

this pile is reminding me of a subplot that happens in the movie "the change-up" where a character is told that they're a quitter and it bothers them so much that they hardcore set out to prove themselves. there are big, big lessons of maturity that you can look forward to this year because these lessons are going to help you to move forward and will finally bring you to a new chapter. up until this year you have been quite comfortable in the bubble you have created for your life because it makes you feel like you have more going for yourself than if you were to start anew with 'nothing'. it could also be the case that you are someone who lives vicariously through others, likes being the type of person others can confide in, "those who can't do teach", struggles with creating your own life.

ngl, there is a level of self-reflection that is needed for this pile because you did get the "you should accept valid criticism" card - so try to be mindful if anyone does approach you with a critique and really be honest with yourself. by the end of the year you will be feeling positively confident in who you are, you will not be taking things so personally, and you will be focusing on creating a life that you want for yourself - just know that you're going to be wandering a bit during this time as you figure out what it is you want.

although there is nothing wrong with desiring deeper connections, this year you will be learning the art of being ~casual~, like someone who knows how to mingle and keep things so-so. you are going to have a moment this year where the realization hits you that sometimes doing less is doing more. and there will be a situation in your life where you are going to make the conscious choice to do nothing, you are going to choose to keep to yourself, you are going to choose to not address it, you are going to just stand in your power and be cool, calm, & collected, and a weight is going to fall off of you for it.

———-for pile 3 ⊹

have we been simply just hoping for the best, perhaps? it is time for that to change! it is important for you to know that any seeming obstacle you encounter this year is for the very best of reasons. up until now you have been sticking to the plans you have in place and trying to make the most of the hands you're dealt but the issue is that you choose to do whatever you think is going to cause the least amount of issues. reminds me a bit of a kid trying to appease their parents.

this year you are going to make tons of headway in terms of who you are, who you want to be, how you want to express yourself, what you like, what you want, etc. no longer shall you be keeping yourself and your life open to interpretation! you may have a fun time in terms of exploring your aesthetic, you may choose to care less about work or you may even quit a job, you're going to be figuring out what it is that you enjoy and you're going to be seeking out hobbies/events that align with such.

"as the image of myself becomes sharper in my brain and more precious, i feel less afraid someone else will erase me by denying me love." - jenny slate

^^^ as you become better acquainted with yourself your boundaries are going to become firmer which will make you adapt less to situations/people and become 'unbothered' in a *positive* sense (though at times you may feel like you're being heartless or like you're delving into apathetic territory). once again, you may really love indulging yourself this year in terms of aesthetics! like having a shopping spree for yourself or giving yourself an extravagant self-care day. regardless, you are going to be amazed by the power of self-love this year. it's the path to finding honor in oneself!

———-for pile 4 ⊹

hm...so are you a lone wolf or do you just have perpetual issues with others? cuz my goodness was this pile taking forever to read for!! the energy was absolutely refusing to come out!!! there is a heavy energy surrounding this pile and it's time we dispel all that. you are someone who has the tendency to unnecessarily burden themselves, maybe you have obligations in your life that are all-consuming to you, maybe you are someone who keeps too much to themselves, maybe you are just too darn hard on yourself. you do know that you don't have to do everything, right? just making sure...

dedicating yourself to the wrong things is coming through, maybe its certain situations or people or it's a mindset, what have you. but finally shall you be allowing light into your life and moving away from the things that are not serving you 🙏 no more repeating lessons and continuing poor cycles!!! there will be some tears shed as you unlearn and distance yourself from what you need to but it's time to let life back in, babes.

there may be someone in your life who is draining the hell out of you - a parent, a partner, a friend, a boss, and you're going to have a wake-up call that this person is never changing because they don't want to change so all your efforts of trying to appease this person are going to waste. and if that's not the case then you yourself may be someone who is stubborn and resisting the flow of life, and you're finally going to break out of your routine and live!!!!!!! no matter which case it may be, or both, you are going to realize that it is okay to not live up to whatever it is you have in your mind. maybe you'll even allow yourself to seek guidance/help from someone else! you will be lighter by the end of this year, you will be branching out and socializing, you may be accepting of any invites or even making your own plans to hang out with people :j

———-for pile 5 ⊹

ah, y'all are really trying to wrap your heads around the fact that you cannot keep living the way that you are and something has got to give. agreed! up until now you have been brushing things under the rug, you've been keeping your expectations low, you've been accepting things that are beneath you, and you've been keeping your mouth shut about all the wrong things.

you are finally going to start combing through your life and paying close attention to what is going on around you & within you. it's kind of like when you start actually trying to figure out how you do feel around certain people, how you do feel coming to work or school and how you feel being there/leaving from there, truly acknowledging what your body & spirit trying to tell you through how you feel. do you feel yourself clenching? is there tension? does it feel like something is off? after sitting with all these thoughts throughout the year, by the end of the year you are going to be speaking your mind, letting things be known, and your mental juices will be flooding with ideas.

you may run into issues this year in regards to productivity, maybe you keep having random things interfere with your errands or things you're trying to get done, maybe you leave a job or have issues within your job, there's going to be some level of disappointment but it's going to make you realize what is and is not worth doing. it's time to focus less on goals and make room for more fun outings!!!

i definitely see you parting ways and/or making a necessary decision this year that is going to pay off a lot more than you would expect. for some of you, those who are romantically interested in men, you may meet & connect with a man this year and either it will be an overall positive experience or there will be a very notably positive takeaway from the connection. for others, there is going to be a notable male figure in regards to your year that will bring something positive to your life somehow.

———-for pile 6 ⊹

this pile....hm....don't worry, you are finally going to leave the cul-de-sac that you have been stuck in. this is a year where you are going to realize that the path you are on is not the path for you.

this pile is a bit different from the rest because what you can look forward to this year is letting go of what you thought you wanted and taking a big ol' step back from what you have been doing. in due time you will know what you need to do in order to set yourself up for greatness but first you have to re-trace your steps to figure out where things veered off track.

there will be something that happens to you this year that you may in the moment perceive as a loss or a failure or a defeat but it's actually going to be a blessing in disguise.

try to avoid taking risks this year, take things slow, regroup, and trust that you will find your way.

*october is coming through as being notable for y'all in a positive way so yay for something to bear in mind <3

[jungwnies]

f1 grid (2/2) | orange theory

୨ৎ : featuring : kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda, isack hadjar, and liam lawson + special feature franco colapinto and lance stroll (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @holycastles) : quiet moments where love is tested through the smallest acts because sometimes, peeling an orange says more than 'i love you.'

୨ৎ : genre : fluff & romance ୨ৎ : word count : tbd

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : race weekend <3 also if you guys liked the addition of franco and lance pls lmk and i will keep them in my one-shots <3

ʚ・kimi antonelli

you ask him to peel an orange for you one afternoon, not thinking much of it.

he blinks, looks at the fruit in your palm like it personally insulted him. “…you can’t?”

“i can. just asking.”

kimi rolls his eyes but takes it anyway, wordless. you assume he’s doing it just to get you off his back.

except every time you glance over, he’s still quietly focused. thumbs working carefully along the seams, jaw tight in concentration.

when he hands it back, peeled neatly, he mutters under his breath, “don’t make this a thing.”

but then the next day, there’s an orange in your bag. already peeled. wrapped in a napkin with a tiny corner note that just says: eat something.

he never says it outright, but you catch him keeping extras in the fridge. watching when you reach for one, subtly grabbing it first.

once, while traveling, he grumbles, “the oranges here suck,” and spends ten minutes trying to find the sweetest one at a random airport kiosk.

kimi’s love isn’t loud. it’s in the things he does without asking. in the way he makes space for you in his routines. and he never lets you notice until it has already become a habit.

ʚ・ollie bearman

“peel this for me?” you hand ollie the orange and grin.

“easy,” he says, like a man who has peeled maybe one orange in his entire life.

cut to him ten seconds later, absolutely struggling. peel halfway off, juice everywhere, face a little too serious for citrus duty.

“you good?” you ask.

“babe, i got this. trust the process.”

by the end, it looks more like orange chunks than slices, and your kitchen towel is a crime scene.

he hands you the peeled mess with proud eyes. “there. gourmet.”

you bite into a piece and smile. “tastes like chaos.”

ollie smirks. “tastes like love.”

you think it ends there, but later that week, he walks in with a little plastic orange peeler from the grocery store. “look what i got. so i don’t suck next time.”

you stare at him, stunned.

he shrugs. “i googled it. i’m evolving.”

ollie might joke and make a mess of it, but he’s the kind of boyfriend who learns for you. who sees the meaning behind silly little gestures. and yeah, maybe he can’t peel an orange like a pro yet, but he’ll try every time. that’s what makes it perfect.

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you hand him an orange with the simple request: “can you peel this?”

yuki doesn’t even blink. “what? why can’t you do it?”

you grin. “just testing something.”

“testing what? this isn’t school. i’m not peeling oranges on command.”

he rants for two minutes. hands flying, eyebrows furrowed, pacing like this is a full-blown debate. then he snatches the orange and goes at it like it personally offended him.

you watch him peel with furious focus. lips pursed. intensity unmatched.

when he finishes, he tosses it on the table. “there. happy?”

you burst out laughing. “yuki… you passed.”

he blinks. “wait, what?”

“it was a tiktok thing. a love test.”

“you’re insane.”

but after a few seconds, he shifts in his seat. picks up the orange again and starts pulling the white bits off.

“still kinda ugly,” he mumbles. then softer, “next time, just ask for fruit. no tests.”

the next day, he peels you one again. this time without a word, just places it in front of you like it’s nothing.

he complains. he yells. but he also listens. learns. and peels your oranges like you matter, even if he grumbles the whole time.

ʚ・isack hadjar

you hand isack an orange and ask him to peel it.

he squints at you, suspicious. “why? is it poisoned?”

“no. i just want to see something.”

“oh. it’s a bit. i hate your bits.”

still, he takes the orange. peels it slowly, deliberately, while muttering, “can’t believe i’m falling for this again.” then hands it to you with a flourish. “there you go, citrus royalty.”

you laugh and take a bite. “that was the orange peel theory,” you say. “you passed.”

he stares at you. “the what?”

you explain. he shakes his head. “you realize i’d do it even if it was poisoned, right?” then casually adds, “don’t make that weird.”

later, he sends you a meme of a guy peeling 40 oranges at once with the caption: me proving i care about you.

he’ll mock your tiktok love tests. he’ll call them dumb. but he’ll do them anyway. every single time.

because behind the sarcasm and chaos, isack hadjar is actually a big softie. if peeling an orange earns your smile, he’ll keep doing it. with flair.

ʚ・liam lawson

“peel this for me?” you ask, tossing the orange into liam’s lap.

he blinks at it, then up at you. “…sure,” he says, no questions asked.

and he does. carefully. quietly. thumbs working slowly along the peel. no mess. no grumbling.

when he hands it back, he even splits the slices for you. “don’t eat the bitter part. i got rid of it.”

you’re stunned. “that was fast.”

he shrugs. “you wanted it.”

simple as that.

the next time you reach for an orange, he just takes it from your hand and starts peeling. like it’s muscle memory now.

liam doesn’t turn it into a moment. he doesn’t overthink. but he remembers how you like the slices stacked. how you hate the white strings. he even keeps tissues in the glove box of his car just in case you bring snacks again.

he’s that kind of boyfriend. quiet. thoughtful. constant. the type who peels oranges without needing to prove anything.

and it always makes your chest feel warm.

ʚ・franco colapinto

you ask franco to peel an orange for you and he lights up like you asked him to co-host a cooking show. “of course. one sec—should i get a knife? do you like wedges?”

you blink. “whatever works…”

five minutes later, your kitchen is a michelin-star performance. orange peeled, pith removed, segments arranged like art on a napkin. and a glass of water beside it.

“there. rehydration included.”

you stare at him. “it was supposed to be a tiktok thing.”

“a test?” he repeats, looking betrayed. “wait, i crushed that.”

and he did. franco becomes obsessed. peels oranges for you daily. puts them in your bag. posts stories like: she’s well-fed, folks.

franco turns fruit care into a full-fledged love language. he’s proud of his peeling skills. starts competing with himself over neatness and speed.

and every time he hands one to you, he says something like, “nothing but the best for my love.”

it’s not about the orange. it’s about how happy he is to give something to you. how he turns a silly test into a part of how he loves.

ʚ・lance stroll

“can you peel this for me?” you ask.

lance looks up from his book, then at the orange. he nods once and sets his bookmark down.

he doesn’t say anything. doesn’t make a joke. just peels it, slowly and carefully. removes every bit of the pith before handing it to you with a quiet, “here.”

you almost expect more. but that’s it.

he goes back to reading.

when you tell him about the trend, he raises an eyebrow. “you know i’d do anything for you, right? not just fruit.”

after that, he just starts doing it. no asking. orange? peeled. banana? peeled. strawberries? washed and in a bowl.

it’s not a big gesture. he doesn’t make it a production.

but he listens. he shows up.

and you start to notice how often he does things without being asked. like quietly plugging your charger in at night or packing snacks before a long drive.

lance loves in peaceful, reliable ways. no spotlight. just presence. and that’s exactly why it sticks with you.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[misaerabl]

𝝑𝑒 thinking about abby's big hands the size, the weight, the way they wrap around your waist like nothing. the way she talks you through it every time she fcks you open with those thick, slow fingers—like she’s got all the time in the world to ruin you just right.

You’ve always had a thing for her hands.

Not just because they’re big—though they are. Broad palms, long fingers, rough from lifting and fighting and building muscle that never seems to quit. But it’s the way they move, the way they settle around you like they belong there. It’s the quiet care underneath all that strength.

She’s lounging on the couch, damp hair pushed back, tank top clinging to her from the workout she just powered through. One arm rests over your shoulders, the other draped loosely across her stomach. You reach for her hand without thinking, let your fingers glide across hers.

“You ever get tired of staring?” she asks, a smile tugging at her mouth.

You shake your head. “Not when it’s you.”

She lets you compare hands again, the way you always do—your palm against hers, fingers stretched out. Hers easily swallows yours. You press them closer together, tracing along each of her fingers like you’re learning them all over again.

“Still can’t get over how big they are,” you say, voice quieter now.

Abby tilts her head, watching you, something heavier creeping into her gaze. “Yeah? Thought you liked that.”

You don’t answer—not with words. You slide her hand down to rest on your thigh, your breath catching as her touch lingers. It doesn’t take much more than that before she’s moving—her hand slipping beneath the hem of your shorts like she’s been waiting for permission.

“I know what you need,” she murmurs, lips brushing the corner of your jaw.

You tilt your hips toward her, eyes fluttering shut as her fingers finally push past your waistband. There’s nothing rushed about it—just steady pressure and the familiar drag of her fingertips, like she knows exactly where and how to touch.

“You always feel so damn good,” she mutters, her voice low, almost reverent. Her fingers slip inside, slow and unhurried, and your breath stutters at the stretch.

You bury your face in her neck as she works you open, her free hand gripping your hip to keep you steady. “There you go,” she breathes, soft but sure. “Nice and easy.”

The way she fills you—it’s addictive. Like she was made for this. Like you were made for this.

You moan softly, your body curling in toward her, and she just keeps talking you through it, calm and steady. “That’s it. Just breathe. You’re doing so good.”

And maybe it’s the way her voice settles in your chest or the way her fingers curl just right inside you—but in that moment, there’s nothing else. Just her hands, her strength, her warmth—and the way she holds all of you, without ever needing to say the words.

[eufezco]

NEW OLD JOEL 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

old man!joel x younger!fem!reader

synopsis – after years on the road, you and joel finally settle in jackson and there's nothing you love more than coming back from work to your old man wearing those glasses.

smut. fluff

the last of us masterlist

after traveling what felt like the entire world following joel, you both finally decided to settle down in jackson. it was peaceful, a not so small community anymore where you could breathe again, where you could do more than just survive. eat three meals a day. sleep through the night without one eye open. and with all that peace came space, to feel, to think, to finally let yourself consider what had been quietly building between you and joel all this time.

he was reluctant at first. the age gap weighed on him more than it ever did on you. you’d never brought it up, never even seemed to notice it in the ways he did. but you two had lived too much together since you first started traveling with ellie. that kind of bond didn’t come easily. yet joel didn’t think he had the right to want something as soft, as tender, as the love you showed him. and jackson helped him with that. the town gave him the kind of peace he never thought he’d earn. and slowly, as the years passed, joel softened and started to accept the life he deserved and appreciate the little things.

the way you massaged his shoulders after a long day of work, the way he always made sure you were warm in the mornings when he had to leave early, how you'd wake up tucked beneath an extra blanket. you built a life together made up of shared breakfasts and quiet evenings walking through the snow-covered streets of jackson, of fixing things around the house side by side, of laughter in the kitchen when something burned, and the way he'd kiss your temple like it didn’t matter.

—hi, —you said coming into the house. joel looked up from where he was sitting at the table, glasses low on his nose, hands busy with something that needed to be fixed. his eyes softened the second he saw you.

—hey, darlin’, —he said, —you’re back early.

—yeah, the snow is getting worst, there wasn't much we could do in the garden, —you replied, shrugging off your coat and hanging it up by the door.

joel gave a small nod, eyes following your every move, —i figured, —he said, —how’s the ground looking? any chance we can save anything before the winter really sets in?

you sighed, taking a moment to pull off your gloves and slide them into your pocket. —a few plants are holding up, but it’s mostly the cold that’s making it tough. i’m thinking of giving it another shot in the spring, once everything starts to warm up.

joel hummed. you approached him and hugged him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. his hand, still holding the small tool, paused for a second before he gently placed it down, he took one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

—how was your day? —you asked.

—good, busy. dina told me the cracked main lines are full of roots. should've checked them but i forgot, —he rubbed his hands over his face, clearly annoyed with himself. you could see how much he cared about getting things right, about showing that he was still capable, still useful. he picked the piece again and fidgeted with it.

—it's okay, you can get it done tomorrow. the main lines aren't going to move, —you reassured him, your voice gentle, as you smoothed your hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm.

—yeah, you’re right. tomorrow’s another day, —the therapy sessions were working, somehow, because never in your life would you have imagined the joel you first met would learn to take things slow.

you kissed his cheek, his beard tickling your lips, as your hand slid slowly over his chest. you couldn't help but smile at how lost he was in the task, not even seeming to notice the way you were touching him. you pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, letting your lips pressed there for just a second before pulling back.

—joel, —you murmured. your fingers brushed against his before you gently took the small tool from him and set it on the table. you moved closer, slipping one knee over his lap, easing yourself down until you were straddling him. —are you planning on working all night?

joel's hands instinctively found your hips, steadying you, surprised but not willing to stop you. —was just about done here, —he said, —then i was gonna give you every bit of my attention. but i see you've got other plans for me.

you loved how he looked with the glasses low on his nose, made him look more domestic, but you gently slid them off, folding them and setting them on the table. his eyes followed the movement, then back up to yours, darker now but entirely focused.

—thought you liked those, —he murmured.

—i do, —you whispered, —but i'm afraid they might get in the way.

he hummed, his eyes fixed on your lips.

you unbuttoned the flannel he wore beneath his jacket. he watched you, barely breathing, his hands still resting on your hips but his thumbs began to trace soft circles through the fabric of your jeans. you sighed softly as the last button came undone, revealing his body. your hand moved over his chest, tracing the old, pale scars that marked his skin. your eyes moved lower, taking in the softness of his belly, the way he relaxed under your gaze instead of tensing. you bit your lower lip, what if you said this was the sexiest he has ever looked?

—i couldn't wait to get back home to you, —you brushed your nose against his, you hips started rolling against his own. joel swallowed, his hands flexed where they held you, fingers tightening just a little.

—yeah? —he asked, his voice low, a little gruff.

you nodded, and your lips finally met his in a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen all day. it was desperate, needy, but slow and passionate. your fingers sank into the soft, graying hair at the back of joel’s head, tugging gently, needing him closer. he groaned low in his throat, his hands working hungrily on the zipper of your jeans.

you lifted your hips from his so he could slid your jeans down your legs and immediately after, you straddled him again. as your fingers worked on the buckle of his belt and then unzipped his pants, joel's big hands cupped your ass, pushing you forward and encouraging you to grind against his crotch.

you whined, feeling the rough fabric of his jeans through the thin one of your panties. you pulled down his underwear, just enough for his cock to sprung free. you connected your lips with his again, his hands now on your cheeks as you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan.

you took all of him. joel let his head rest on your shoulder as his hands traveled down your body to your hips. he helped you move, at first just rocking your body back and forth against his. your lips, half parted pressed together, made it easier for your breaths to mingle. then, you lifted your body and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again.

—fuck, yeah, just like that, —joel groaned in your ear.

you tried not to be so loud, you didn't want to attract anyone's attention or cause a scandal. but your cries and his moans eventually echoed on the walls of your living room every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

joel rose from the chair in one fluid motion, his strong hands holding your weight. with a sweep of his arm, tools and scraps went to the floor, forgotten. he laid you down on the now-cleared table, the wood cool against your back, contrast to the heat building between you as his cock never left your body.

—did so good for me, now let me take care of you, hm?

he grabbed your thighs with firm hands and guided your legs around his waist so he could go deeper. your heels pressed into his lower back as he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. the table cracked with each one of his thrusts and you feared it might break, it wouldn't be the first time joel would need to ask his brother for help in repairing a piece of furniture that you had broken since your arrival in jackson.

one of his hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit, his fingers moving fast and with urgency as he felt how you were getting tighter and tighter. you closed your eyes shut, feeling a little dizzy from all the panting as your body jerked and squeezed his own between your legs as you came. after that, he didn't last much longer and released himself inside you.

you both stayed there for a few minute. joel rested on top of you and with your legs still around him, you welcomed the weight of his body pressing you down onto the table. you played with his hair as he finally looked at you. you showed him a little smile and he gave a quick kiss to your lips.

—my body's gonna hurt so much tomorrow from this.

you giggled, —i'll make sure to give you the best massage ever.

you showed him a little smile, and he gave you a quick kiss to your lips. but as you pulled away, both of you noticed the mess of tools and pieces scattered across the floor, the work joel had been focused on before everything had shifted between you.

—i'm afraid you're gonna have to start all over again.

—with that or with you?

[spaceyaemonds]

anon said: hc: jack as a dry joke suggests the name Michaela and BM really likes it much to his and Robby’s (who she thinks is named Robby because it took a while for them to meet) dismay, he manages to dissuade her but it ends up as her middle name.

also so many jokes in the ER (not to jacks face, never) about his child bride. Just the incredulous stares from Collins, Langdon, Shen, Ellis and Mohan. I think Robby is lowkey glad because this would be when He and Collins are going out and this takes the heat off of him.

I like this kind of kinship between them, they-against all odds- pair really well together. Like in the beginning he would be at her place a lot to hang out, family time, even hookup/unwind but he’d still maintain that boundary because he needs complete solitude to work through those tough shifts and his ptsd meanwhile she’d be really okay with that wanting to make sure he was comfortable but also her own insecurities about being a burden to him.

I think it’s so sweet he’d take to sleeping on the floor of the nursery, as like a form of security and comfort, it’s really adorable. And he’d unwind after a night shift with the police scanner at the kitchen table spooning yogurt and berries in his daughter’s mouth, gahhhh the cuteness.

ngl i was hoping for a boy too but the girl is so cute, he’d be such a funny girl dad. He’s such a cynical and moody guy, he strikes me as the type to prepare his daughter for survival for any situation, as a form of fear and love. Teaching his daughter how to do a tourniquet, how to start a fire all in a tutu/pink sparkle light up shoes (her mom). She’d be such a tomboy lol 😆

“Hi Uncle Robby”

“Hi princess, ready to take your dad home.”

“Yeah me and daddy are going to play doctor.”

“Oh is that so sweetpea…”

“Yah! We’re going to practice a tourney-bet.”

“A tourniquet…”

Dana and Robby turn to Jack with a deadpan stare.

screaming!!!! many many thoughts and just rambles under the cut!!! idk why tumblr hates me and won’t let me respond directly to the ask!!!!

reader loves robby! after the initial awkwardness, which there is a lot lol, they get along surprisingly well! it’s mildly annoying to jack. i think he’d bring it up in kind of a snippy way, probably all out to eat or something after a shift. collins almost dies of laughter when reader says “omg i love it!!! but who is michael??” both jack and robby spend a long time trying to get her to change her mind, and eventually she finds a name she likes better, but michaela sticks as the middle name. as she gets older, robby learns to really appreciate it.

SHEN NEVER SHUTS UP ABOUT IT!! day shift tends to at least keep it more subtle, but shen nearly always gets the caught!! collins can just never fully wrap her head around it, and even after her and robby break up and she sees more of reader just around, she’s never not shocked. langdon is probably the most obvious with his glances LOL.

even before baby is born, i think he goes to her place to unwind and check on her after every shift. he likes feeling the baby move against his hand too. once the baby is born, he spends even more time there. never gone too long. he sleeps in readers bed a lot, but sometimes she finds him either asleep in on the nursery floor or awake in the middle of the night on the couch, just sitting in the dark. the first time she caught him on the couch, he left when he noticed she was awake. he was back early the next morning, sitting at the table with the baby. reader doesn’t ask, but he eventually does tell her. him leaving so suddenly eats at her for a really long time, and she thinks about it more than she would care to admit.

hard shifts and long nights almost automatically have him sleeping next to his baby’s crib. at first, reader told him the monitor was good, it would pick any noises up. eventually she realized it was more for his piece of mind, so she stopped fighting it. every once in a while, she ends up in the floor next to him.

UNWINDING AFTER A NIGHTSHIFT BY FEEDING THE BABY AND LISTENING TO THE POLICE SCANNER I AM CRYING😭😭 that is just utter perfection. no other words🥺 the baby gets excited and babbles if they get something that sounds exciting on there.

reader tries as she might to have a girly-girl, but that girl is all her dad. she may look just like her mom, but anyone from a mile away can tell that she’s her father’s daughter.

i think he was terrified to have a daughter. having a child was a scary enough thought. but a daughter? oh boy. he thinks he may be too tough, too rough around the edges. but reader knew there wasn’t a thing to worry about. and as always she was right.

bonus: robby and jack talking about the tourniquet while watching mom, baby, and dana chat:

“you can’t teach your daughter how to use a tourniquet,”

“i’d rather her know how to use it and not need to then need to know and not know how,”

note: this was mostly me just rambling, so i’m sorry if none of it seems like it makes sense😭😭 but i love talking about this with you guys, so feel free to send more asks with your thoughts!!!

[shuenkio]

愛 I want your Salty ! - 이희승

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader

Synopsis ; It was a teasing joke but who knows your boyfriend would actually let you taste his "Salty" Water?

Genre: Smut Cw: Smau. Non proof read

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A/n: ik there'd be some part that different from the starter, since my brain is not braining— anyway.

In a day of normal life of Mn who always wanted someone who can understand him and can handle him at his worst not only his emotion but his behavior too since he know himself that, he can't control his running lip and thought sometime despite being a random rambler person, and it was just a dream and hoping to find a perfect boyfriend right? right but not until someone like his tinder profile, and text him that they want to meet him, a normal single date between two guys wouldn't hurt a try, so Mn give it a short, lower his expectation and standard so he can take anything they could offer.

Lord have mercy, it not what Mn have expected, the person who asked him out on a date named, Heeseung is just far more than he could imagine after exchange each other life story. Mn was about to explode after learning that Heeseung was just as much as him, just a different body at least, he was casual, blunt, quite, bold and understandable kind of person which make it so perfect if he would be Mn's boyfriend.

Which soon turn to be true, it not Mn who asked the taller if he had a partner, it the other way around. the red hair didnt play once he also find his perfect love on a random day and he would let it slip into thin air? not a chance, after the date end that day, he immediately asked Mn out and asked him to be his, not for a time being but forever, and when Mn ensure about a second thoughts, Heeseung didn't care one bit if there any negative about Mn, He calmy response he know when he see one and that's not his Mn. And the answer cannot be No, if Hee want it he would do anything....

Present time

The day fall into dark, replace by the thousands stars filled the empty sky, the moon were amazing today, it light shine bright through every corner of the busy night city. Mn and Heeseung just got back from running errands today and making both of their ways back to their shared apartment home. Due to the hot weather from the day, when Mn spotted a ice cream truck he was thinking to grab some to cool down their body, and Heeseung just go along with it, anything for his Boyfriend.

And they continue on their way back home, as both of them have ice cream in their palm, licking, sucking, savoring the taste with it cold and yummy flavor. As Mn was eating, he is licking a scoop of ice cream which make his brain freeze for a moment. Heeseung chuckled to the sight, find t amusing and adorable when Mn acting like a toddler. Mn knot his brows together, his expression turn to a fake sulking that draw more laugh from the latter. The good time last for a while, before an idea pop up when Mn thought of something that could make his Boyfriend stun or even freaking shock.

"Stop snorting, This ice cream was too sweet that i could get diabetes ugh why don't you help me" Mn let out a sassy sigh and look away, hoping he would respond to his favor.

"By what, i don't have anything on me except a bottle of water, do want it?" Hee claimed, as he was about to pull out a water bottled from his backpack but was stopped why Mn comments.

"Oh so you thought i want that bland water? joke on you i want a salty one- from You" Smirk appear on Mn face, express the teasing in his tone with a hint of actually want it, knowing that Heeseung won't do such thing, and Mn know his taller bf know what he mean. Result Heeseung to turn his head slowly toward his lover, raise one of his eyebrows,That's even Mn cant even read his face.

Yet he not actually looking and pay much attention to Mn right now, Hee looking for a nearby restroom.

"What are you looking for? Don't take it seriously i was joking let's go back home, it getting late" Mn disappointed and awkward ate him up as nothing slip from Heeseung lip, it was pure silent. Mn was ready to go back home at instant only to get his back collar hooked by Heeseung's finger and dragging Mn to the restroom nearby.

"Don't be, i never said i would not give what you want, you said what you said right?"

"Heeseung....!"

////

Inside the empty restroom, with barely nobody came across at this hour, Heeseung and Mn were in the same stall, just the two of them.

With Heeseung sitting on the toilet, Mn were sitting down on the floor. A lopsided grin painted in the taller face as his fingers dug into the waistband of his pants, all at once before pool down everything on his ankle, with a quite a shift of the fabric, his cock was exposed- vulnerable in a way that giving Mn access to his liking, the cool air brushing over the heated skin making him twitching and throbbing.

"Go on suck it like how you wanted, i don't mind since you like it"

Mn blinked, jaw ticking slightly, like his brain had short circuited but refused to believe what his lover just did.

"Uhhh can i even?-"

"If you don't I'm going to make you yourself darling, do it as you please, suck my cock until it dripping, leaking, and load you milk by the time it fucking drown your throat, like you want it Mn, my salty cum- do i need to say more?"

Heeseung even making sure he was making the right statement for his clueless boyfriend so he could feel at ease, as he lean backward, spread his legs more for his Mn to giving him more entry. He always been the understanding one, quietly patient, nothing really shock him anymore, he would give all the things Mn desire.

Mn eyes spark with satisfations the kind that came when something he longing for finally here. As he slowly insert his boyfriend's jotting massive cock inside his warm mouth then began to bobbing his head in a steady rhyme, taking his time to make this moment longer. While Heeseung just sit still, doing nonthing.

"Just like that Mn, wrapped that hungry lip like you want to eat this cock- fuck hell yeah" The empty room are now filled with soft groan and moaning from the stall, not even care if there anyone would hear them, this is all pleasure that cannot be stop.

Heeseung’s breath caught, shoulders pressing back as his fingers curled tight in hair. He wasn’t being loud, he couldn’t be, but the sounds still slipped from him, unfiltered and low. Quiet groans rolled out of his chest, scattered and rough around the edges like he didn’t know how to hold them in anymore.

"Ah… fuck…" His voice was barely above a whisper, but every word felt heavy, soaked in heat.

The mouth on him moved with intention. Not rushed. Not teasing. Just steady, like something worth savoring. Tongue soft and warm as it swept along the underside, slow and sure, before easing back again. Heeseung shuddered, jaw clenching as his thighs twitched.

He looked down and swore again, eyes glazed, lips parted, chest rising in shallow waves.

"You’re gonna make me… shit, Don't you stop"

Heeseung’s hand dropped to the stall wall, palm flat, searching for something solid. The way he was being taken in wasn’t rough, but it was overwhelming in its care. Like every second had been memorized.

He let out a moan, voice caught in the back of his throat.

"God, your mouth…"

His body trembled as that warmth coiled tight in his stomach. The way he was being taken in, steadily, deeper with each pass, had him spiraling. Heeseung could barely breathe. His other hand tangled deeper in Mn hair, not guiding, just holding on.

"You’re gonna kill me," he whispered, a choked sound following right after.

"Don’t stop. Please. Just… don’t."

His hips jerked once, breath staggering, and the mouth around him adjusted with the same smooth pressure, never missing a beat. A soft hum followed, intentional or not, it didn’t matter. It was the last thing he needed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…cum, cum cumming ”

With a low, shaky moan, Heeseung tensed. His breath stilled. Then he came, with a massive load, it was quiet but intense, his toes curling as a sound escaped him, raw, soft, almost reverent.

"Swallow it, don't leave any drop darling, just like you need to refresh your sweet tongue"

His head tipped back, neck bared to the too-bright lights above, chest rising in uneven waves as he tried to remember how to breathe. Fingers still tangled, body still pulsing from the aftershock.

"Was it salty like you want now?"

Mn nodded satisfied.

Who wouldn't when you get to suck Dick, especially from someone you loved.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

I just thought it would be funny having him fill out several notebooks with things about your body. Canonically, he has made guidebooks on the other neighbors. So why not you?

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Frank learning about human biology

★ Frank had no clue what he was getting into. All he did was ask why you need to drink water after helping him with his garden. An innocent question. Two hours later and he's hardly scratched the surface. "So, your body loses water through sweat? And you need to replace it? Hm, okay, but what if there's no water?"

★ When you tell him that there's bones inside you, he thinks about Barnaby. Specifically, about how he likes chewing on them. As you explain how the skeletal system works, Frank continues writing. Trying his best to not think about the stinky mutt.

★ The more you explain, the more worried he becomes. Especially after you mention how wisdom teeth serve no purpose but can hurt you. He stopped writing mid-sentence to look at you. "Excuse me? Did I hear that right?"

★ He compares you to the creatures he knows best. "Your circulatory system functions similarly to some arthropods, but it's much less efficient. They use spiracles and tracheal tubes instead of lungs. Also, why do you need two of those?"

★ Frank’s eyes light up the moment you mention humans have a scientific name. When you tell him the name, Homo sapiens, Frank repeats it aloud before writing it in his notebook. Putting your name right next to it.

★ After realizing just how breakable you are, Frank starts reminding you to drink water, rest properly and keep a safe distance from anything that could hurt you. He also advises against telling Barnaby there's bones inside of you.