#I think it’s more to do with the fact that I still loved him for a long time and thought it was my duty and responsibility to love him

[bi-writes]

ok wait pause i have a question. first date, but like, real, you are my girlfriend date ? or like how'd they define their relationship (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

he's...fun.

it's just sex. mind-blowing, back-numbing, pussy-destroying sex. this man is pushing 40, and you swear you've never felt so out of breath. you convince yourself it's the military thing--he's used to pushing himself, exerting energy, testing the limits of his stamina. but holy shit, you'd think after round four, this man would take a quick nap or something, but no.

he's still balls-deep, hitting it from the back since you can't even keep yourself upright any longer. your skirt lays haphazardly thrown onto the floor, and oh--there's your panties, too, ripped to lacy shreds.

holy shit, this man is more than ten years older than you, and you've never been so out of your fucking mind--

"tha' the spot, love?" his voice is so condescending. he knows he's got you brainless. there's drool staining your lips, and you paw at the sheets for a better grip, but it's useless.

"y-yes, captain."

the low groan that leaves him makes you smile. he might have the upper hand, but if you really wanted to, you could make him come right now, too fast, too much.

you're in bliss. everything is bliss. you're still recovering from what must be the fifth or sixth orgasm--not as good as the second or third one, but still enough to make you cry fat, pleasured tears. you're shaking, in a good way, sinking to your stomach on the bed and pressing your face into his pillow.

"hmm..." your voice is soft and gooey, and when you take a deep breath, you get a long whiff of him. he smells good. clean. earthy. you tasted cigar smoke in his mouth earlier, and you can smell it here, too. just as you relax, you feel the weight of him on your back, and then his lips. he's kissing along your shoulder to your neck and then up your jaw. you tilt your head to give him room, your eyes shutting as his beard scruffs against your skin and his mouth laps at your chin. "i gotta go, john."

you giggle when he lays his entire body on top of yours, trapping you there. you reach up and grip the back of his neck, whining as he flattens his tongue against your jaw and swirls it there.

"john...i gotta go."

"why?"

"mmm..." you thumb at the hair along his scalp, shaking your head. "don't do this, john."

"not doing anythin'."

"we don't sleep over, john."

"what, is tha' some kind of rule? sounds mad."

you turn over a little, looking up at him. you cup his beard in both hands, giving him a chaste kiss.

"don't ruin it, john," you say softly. "this is supposed to be fun."

he tilts his head to the side. he looks so funny without a hat. you've seen him in a beanie, a boonie hat, a cap, you love them all on him. he looks nice like this, too, though--ass naked with his dog tags dangling against his sweaty pecs.

john's eyes twitch a little at your indifference. he settles on his side, leaning over you, and just as you move to get up, he reaches and grips at your face with a big paw of a hand. you clutch at his forearm, big and solid, and your lips pucker as he pulls you closer to him.

"y'r a bad liar, love," he mutters, shaking his head. "fear doesn't suit you."

"i'm not fucking scared."

"who was it?"

you glare up at him, struggling a bit under him. it's a stupid thing to think that you could get away from him. john is not moveable. he's a big fucking tree trunk of a man, with roots that burrow, and you are truly naïve if you think he'll let you up without an answer.

"shut the fuck up, john," you spit at him, but all he does is raise a brow. he's immune to your bite. he's not phased by your sour attempt at insulting him. in fact, it's what drew him to your bed in the first place--certified brat-tamer, captain john price. "you think you're so fucking smart. think you know everything, just because you've got a few years on me, well let me tell you, john--not everything is a fucking lesson learned. you're a military muppet with a decent cock, and that's all you'll ever be to me."

"tha' right?"

"you'll never put me first. you've got one woman, and that's the job, and that's fucking fine, john, but don't make this something it's not. you're lonely, and old, and your failed relationships don't make you wiser, they make you delusional for thinking that doing this again could ever--"

your breath falters when he kisses you. he squeezes your jaw a little harder, forcing your mouth to open, and you moan, squeezing your thighs together when he licks into your mouth and holds you there for him to play with.

"i do have other obligations. my men, the job..." he brushes the hair out of your eyes, and he presses his forehead to yours when he sees the tremble of your bottom lip and the wet look in your eyes. "but i don't do casual, sweetheart. it's all or nothing f'me."

your hand grips his wrist, squeezing tight, and you blink up at him. he's so close. he's right here. blue eyes, greying beard, a sad expression. he's not afraid of dying alone, but he is afraid of wasting time.

"please don't do this to me, john." your voice cracks, and he shrugs. he's sorry, but he's not sorry enough. not enough to let you go--and you're not strong enough to tell him no. it has to be him, but it won't be.

"it's alright," john whispers, but he knows it won't be. he's known you not but a few weeks, but he's made up his mind. he doesn't understand casual. even from the moment he saw you in that bar, it wasn't fleeting, it was definitive. it would be his. you would be his.

even if you were actually someone else's. even if you were bound to someone else. even if you weren't alone, it was already decided.

john's teeth are stuck here, right here, in the hollow of your throat. his fingers are twisted between the chords of your heart and in the spaces between your ribs. if he lets go, he'll break you apart.

so he's never going to let go.

[beloveds-embrace]

(dukedom au, but you are gone for a week cue four men yearning)

The estate feels terribly empty without you.

At first, John tells himself it is only because the house is large and his duties are many. It is a fine excuse- an easy one. He can pretend, for a little while, that his mood is not soured by the absence of your voice at breakfast, by the fact that your perfume no longer lingers in the halls, by the cold, empty side of the bed where you normally sleep.

A week. A mere week, and yet John feels as though you have been gone an eternity.

The others are no better.

Johnny, usually so full of mirth, lingers in the kitchen longer than necessary, creating dish after dish that no one eats. He sets out a plate for you at every meal, stares at it as if willing you to appear. Sometimes, in a fit of frustration, he abandons the dining table entirely and takes his meals in the kitchen, where the staff quietly shuffle around him, their own hearts aching for the absence of their beloved duchess.

Kyle keeps himself busy, burying himself in the estate’s affairs. He goes over reports he has already read twice over, polishes the silverware himself when he thinks no one is looking. John finds him in your sitting room one evening, carefully dusting the spines of your books, though that is hardly his duty.

And Simon, ever so composed, ever so unreadable, is perhaps the worst of them all. He disappears for hours at a time, taking long, aimless rides through the countryside, returning only when the moon has risen high in the sky. He never says where he goes, and no one dares ask, but John knows it is longing that chases him from the estate. When he is not riding, he is haunting your parlor, sitting in your chair by the fire, fingers tracing over the embroidery of the cushion you had so painstakingly stitched by hand.

John had thought himself a patient man. He had been patient when you were wed, when you were shy and uncertain in his home. He had been patient when you discovered his lovers, when you had laughed instead of recoiled, when you had slowly, slowly, let yourself be drawn into their warmth.

But this- this absence of you-

John is not patient now.

He receives your letters, of course. Short, sweet things, penned in your careful hand. You speak of your relative’s health, of the weather, of how you miss the estate and the men who reside in it. You ask if Simon is eating properly, if Kyle is getting enough sleep, if Johnny is not overworking himself. And John- you ask of him too.

I dream of you, my love. I think of you often. Of all of you. Do you think of me?

John exhales, rubbing a hand over his beard as he stares at the parchment. He is sitting at his desk, the candlelight flickering, casting long shadows over the room.

Do you even need to ask?

He folds the letter carefully, setting it atop the others in his drawer. The mere thought of you dreaming of him makes his body ache in ways he cannot put to words, even as he pens a reply for you. He does not mention how empty and lifeless the the estate is without you- you must be worried already by your relative’s health and tired still from the long journey. He can’t put more on your plate.

Though, he hates how the days pass slowly.

By nightfall, John sits alone in the drawing room, a fire crackling low in the hearth, but the seat beside him is empty. Your embroidery frame remains untouched. He glances at it, at the last piece you had been working on- a delicate bloom of violets, only half-finished- and finds himself running a finger over the fine thread.

“Ridiculous.” He mutters under his breath. And yet, he does not move from his place, staring into the fire as if waiting for the sound of your footsteps.

In the kitchen, Johnny kneads dough with more force than necessary, his arms sore from the effort. He does not complain, but his movements are sharp, restless.

Johnny knew he would miss you. He had expected it, had braced for it when he kissed your cheek in parting and told you to travel safely. But knowing it and feeling it are two different things.

The kitchen is too still. He finds himself setting out two teacups in the morning instead of one, expecting to hear your soft voice asking what was for breakfast. He catches himself reaching for the honey you like, only to stop halfway and set it back down with a sigh.

He spends more time than usual baking, filling the kitchen with scents of warm bread, sweet pastries, things you love. The staff enjoy it, of course, but they aren’t you. They don’t smile at him with that particular look in their eyes, don’t sneak tastes of jam off the spoon when they think he isn’t looking.

On the fourth evening without you, Johnny sits at the long dining table, his hands folded in front of him as he stared at the empty chair where you usually sat.

“I should’ve gone with her.” He mutters, drumming his fingers against the polished wood.

“You wouldn’t have been allowed,” Kyle replies, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “She wouldn’t let you drop everything just to follow her like a lost pup.”

Johnny huffs, but he doesn’t argue.

Kyle, ever dutiful, remains composed, but there is an air of unease about him. The routine of the estate is well-kept, yet something is missing. Someone is missing. He finds himself checking the front gates more often than usual, as if expecting your carriage to appear earlier than usual.

Kyle keeps himself busy. He always did, and this week is no exception. The house still needs running, duties still need tending. But even as he works, he feels the weight of your absence like a missing piece of a puzzle.

He notices it in the small things. The way the household staff move, more subdued, missing the warmth you carried into every room. The way the evening routine feels… off. You had a habit of lingering in the hallways after supper, speaking softly with the maids, the footmen, offering a kind word or a knowing glance when someone needed it.

Without you, the house feels colder.

Kyle does not sigh or linger by windows, does not wallow the way Johnny or John do. But on the fifth day, when he enters the library to set fresh candles, he pauses by your reading chair. One of your books lays open, a silk ribbon marking your place. He reaches for it, smoothing a hand over the page before exhaling slowly and setting it back down.

That night, he locked the doors a little later than usual, waiting- just a little longer- for the sound of your return.

Simon, meanwhile, says nothing. He does not pine aloud, nor does he linger like the others. And yet, there is no denying that your absence gnawed at him.

He had been the last to fall for you, the last to let you into his heart. He thought himself made of colder things, of old scars and solitude, yet you had settled into his life as if you had always belonged.

And now, you were gone.

Simon finds himself drawn to your rooms, not stepping inside, but lingering just outside the threshold. He will not enter without you there. But he stands in the hallway sometimes, late at night when even the candles had burned low, and simply… listens.

There is no sound beyond the distant hoot of an owl. No soft breathing, no rustle of your gown as you move through the rooms.

He closes his eyes.

“Come home soon, Duchess.” He murmurs, voice lost to the empty halls.

The estate is not whole without you.

By the seventh day, they are restless.

John stands at the front of the house, hands clasped behind his back as he stares down the road. Johnny hovers in the entrance hall, pacing. Kyle has ensured everything is perfectly arranged for your return. Simon has taken to standing in the courtyard, watching the horizon.

And then- at last- the distant rumble of carriage wheels.

They do not rush, do not appear desperate, but the moment your carriage comes into view, relief ripples through them.

The door opens. You step out, your gaze sweeping over them- soft, surprised at the intensity of their presence. And then you smile, and it is as if the week of longing melts away in an instant.

John steps forward first, taking your gloved hand and kissing it, but his grip lingers. Johnny barely restrains himself from pulling you into an embrace. Kyle exhales, tension easing from his shoulders. Simon says nothing, but the way he looks at you speaks volumes.

“You’re home, Duchess.” John murmurs.

Your smile widens. “I am.”

And at last, the house is warm again.

Dukedom au masterlist

[harrysfolklore]

hi! i have a little bitch blurb request - piastri sis is on painkillers after a minor surgery or after being at the dentist and while carlos is taking care of her she says things she never would’ve DARED to say out loud - even about the fact she’s been infatuated with him longer than she’ll ever admit 😋

this was so fun write 😭😭 i love my little bitches so much

"Carloooooos," you slur through a mouth full of gauze, reaching blindly for him as the nurse wheels you out. "I missed you. Did you miss me? I was asleep but I missed you."

"Yes, mi amor," he tries not to laugh as he helps you into the car. "I missed you too."

"Your face is so nice," you pat his cheek clumsily. "Like... so symmetrical. Are you real? Maybe I'm dreaming."

He buckles you in carefully. "I'm real."

"Prove it," you demand, then immediately start giggling. "My mouth feels like clouds. Do clouds feel things, Carlos? Are clouds sad?"

"I don't think so-"

"We should ask Lando," you say seriously. "He knows about clouds. He's British. It rains there."

Carlos bites his lip to keep from laughing as he starts driving. You're staring at him with wide, unfocused eyes.

"Your hair is so fluffy," you reach for him, missing completely. "Like a lion. My lion. Did you know lions mate for life? Are we lions, Carlos?"

"Eyes on the road, eyes on the road," he mutters to himself in Spanish, fighting a smile.

"Oh! Spanish!" you perk up. "I know Spanish! Te... te something. What's the word? The love word?"

"Te amo?"

"YES!" you try to clap but miss your hands together. "Te amo! I love you SO much. Like... like more than pizza. And I really love pizza. I think I love you since the first time I called you a stupid little bitch."

"I'm honored-"

"But shhhh," you stage whisper. "Don't tell Carlos. He'll get a big head. His head's already perfect though. How is it so perfect?"

"Mi amor, I am Carlos."

You gasp dramatically. "No way! Since when?"

"Since birth, I think."

"Birth!" you suddenly look devastated. "I wasn't there for your birth! I missed baby Carlos! He was probably so cute. With tiny baby abs."

He can't hold back his laugh this time. "I don't think I had abs as a baby."

"Lies," you poke his arm, missing twice. "You came out of the womb with a six-pack. And perfect hair. And that smile that makes me want to take off my-"

"Okay!" he interrupts quickly. "How about some water?"

"Water is boring," you pout. "You're not boring though. You're exciting. Like racing. Vroom vroom."

He hands you a water bottle anyway, helping you drink without choking.

"My hero," you sigh dreamily. "Saving me from death by water. We should get married."

He nearly swerves. "What?"

"Yeah! Right now! Call Lando, he can be the flower girl. Oscar can be the ring bear."

"Ring bearer?"

"No, ring BEAR. He has to dress as a bear. It's traditional."

"Since when?"

"Since right now. I just decided. I'm very smart, Carlos. The doctor said so."

"Did he?"

"Mhmm. He said..." you scrunch your face in concentration. "Actually I don't remember. But I'm sure he did. Because I am smart. Smart enough to date you. HA! Take that, Instagram models!"

"What Instagram models?"

"The ones that slide into your DMs," you try to look stern but your numb face isn't cooperating. "I see them. With their perfect teeth. Well guess what? I have no teeth now! I win!"

"You still have teeth, mi amor. Just minus the wisdom ones."

"Wisdom..." you gasp. "Carlos! Am I going to be stupid now?"

"No-"

"Quick! Ask me something smart!"

"Like what?"

"Like... what's your favorite color?"

"That's not really a test of wisdom-"

"BLUE!" you shout triumphantly. "See? Still smart! And your butt looks really good in blue. Like REALLY good. Science fact. I used to stare at your butt when I pretended to hate you."

Finally, you reach home. Carlos helps you out of the car as you ramble about his "science butt" and whether lions know about race cars.

"Time for rest," he says, laying you on the bed.

"No," you grab his shirt. "Stay. Protect me from the tooth fairy. She's a thief, Carlos. A professional thief."

"I'll protect you," he promises, sliding in beside you.

"My hero," you mumble, already drifting off. "Hey Carlos?"

"Yes?"

"If we have babies, will they have wisdom teeth? Or will they be born wise? Like little wise lions...Or wise little little bitches."

You fall asleep before he can answer, drooling slightly through the gauze.

And Carlos can only smile.

[nymphaea-blue]

Love and Deepspace boys as dads

Info : 3.1k+ word count whole (around 650 - 900 per part), includes : Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, reader is female, reader and LIs are married, mentions of arguments, possible lore spoilers or slightly inaccurate lore references.

Notes : I did my best to keep the parts even :D They are all so supportive, I love the game because of this so I had to include that in the fic as well <3

Rafayel

﹒　⁺ I see him as a girl dad, he would probably have twins.

﹒　⁺ He loves his little daughters more than anything! They are the light of his day, even when they mess up sometimes. He has no issues taking care of them if you aren't able to because of missions.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel would be very patient. Yes, he has his moments when even he loses a little control, but overall your kids would be well behaved so there rarely were moments when he needed to get angry at them.

﹒　⁺ The playful type. He likes to take them out somewhere fun, perhaps to go swimming or maybe to a nearby amusement park, or even on a small vacation in a different country with you by their side of course.

﹒　⁺ They would be half lemurians! The girls are naturally excellent swimmers and they are very loyal, as well as interested in arts, but they look human and don't have a tail. He loves to sing them lullabies in Lemurian and he would try to teach them a little about Lemuria as well.

﹒　⁺ After they grew up, he was even more invested in their lives. He knew all the drama, everything that was happening in school and you bet if your daughters ever came home crying he would be quick to do something about it. Rafayel would also not mind doing skincare with all of you! He did it even before he knew you (in this lifetime) so now he just got to do it with the entire family.

﹒　⁺ He still makes sure the two of you get plenty of time together and he takes you out on dates, even well after he became your husband. He does his best to split the responsibility 50/50 but with how frequent his exhibitions seem to be, it’s hard, though he is always fully supportive of you and appreciates the effort you make for the family.

“Mommy look, look!” Your daughters called out to you as you were relaxing on a towel nearby. Since you were free from work and Rafayel finished his pieces for the exhibition, it was a perfect day to spend it on the beach, especially because the weather was warm and it was right in front of your home anyways.

As you looked over at where the girls were, you could see a sandcastle being built, with your husband, Rafayel, helping them with it. It was very visible which parts Rafayel worked on and which ones the girls did, but it was endearing since they tried to replicate what he did. 

“Awh, it looks wonderful! Good job, girls!” You cheered them on, they were trying their best and it was all that mattered, they had fun with their dad too, it wasn't surprising since they got a little bit of his artistic spirit from him.

“Heyy, I'm here helping them as well, you know.” Your husband pouted playfully as he got up and walked towards your resting spot.

He kissed your forehead gently after he adjusted your parasol to make sure the sun won't blind you.

“How are you doing, cutie?” He checked in on you, the beach day was also a way for you to take a break and relax, with constant either work or motherhood activities you felt very tired out as of late so Rafayel decided that he would keep the girls busy for a while so you would be able to relax a little. He does his best to help out daily but you understand that he is in fact a world famous painter so his job does keep him busy sometimes. “Much better, thank you Rafayel.” “Don’t thank me, I’m your husband and they are my kids too you know. Just let me know if you ever need a break, okay? I don’t mind ignoring Thomas every once in a while if it means I can spend some more time with my favourite girls.”

Zayne

﹒　⁺ I think he would have both a girl and a boy, with around a 4 year gap between them.

﹒　⁺ Ever since your oldest son was born, he took a lot more rest days from his job. His job was important, yes, but family came first, especially after you got pregnant with a second child. Zayne was very active in their lives and he was there to keep the entire family in check - especially when it came to health.

﹒　⁺ I think he picks up the kids from school almost daily and he is never late. He makes them school lunch while you handle breakfast for the family and later on he gets the kids dressed when you prepare yourself for the day. The responsibility is very even and no one feels left out or overworked.

﹒　⁺ He fully believes in raising kids to be smart, kind and helpful but also responsible. I feel like he would be against giving them a phone or access to the internet before he was sure they would be ready for it and even after they get it, he would remind them to not spend all day on the internet and he would do his best to go out with the kids so they would be able to play around outside.

﹒　⁺ Zayne never gets mad at the kids, he just can’t. Even if something does happen, he handles it with a straight face and a calm voice while he helps them to navigate the difficult situation. The only time he would get slightly annoyed at them would be if they dare to disrespect you - he is a firm believer that since you gave birth to them and took care of them so well, they should respect you, no questions asked.

﹒　⁺ The twins make frequent visits to his office, he just can't say no to them when they come in… He is still very professional and will make them wait in the waiting room if he has a patient but otherwise they are free to hang out with him and he likes to teach them about his job.

﹒　⁺ He is a little sad to see your kids get older. It's amazing that they are becoming more mature and responsible but he also has a hard time keeping up with them after they become teens. 

  “Okay, open up, you need to take this for your fever.” Zayne said, his tone fully professional, his doctor mode still on it seemed. The kids caught a cold and your husband was extremely worried about this, though it was also cute to see him like that.

“Noo, this will taste horrible!” 

“Yeah, it always does!”

The siblings said almost in unison, and your poor lover just sighed in response. It felt like the hundredth time he tried to get them to take their medicine but it always needed lots of fighting for them to do so. Deciding that it was enough of watching Zayne suffer, you entered the room.

“Sweethearts, you need to take this like your daddy says so, you don’t want to be sick all the time, do you?” You tried to persuade them sweetly as you sat down next to them on the bed to bring them some comfort. “I’m not taking this, it tastes like toothpaste!” “Besides, if I’m sick I can skip school.”

“..What if I give you sweets?” You decided to take a different approach, it was bound to work. Your kids instantly agreed of course, it would help to fix the taste of the medicine and it would be like a little reward to them and hopefully, they would get better soon. Your husband just watched in slight disbelief that the attempt worked.

“Giving them sweets after doing something they should do anyways can teach them bad habits.” “Do you want some too?” “... Yes.”

Xavier

﹒　⁺ I think he would have a little boy, one kid is plenty enough but he also thinks about having a girl in the future as well.

﹒　⁺ He was the one to take care of him after he was born and he let you rest instead. Xavier treasures his sleep a lot but when your little star wakes up, he is the one to get up from the bed and cuddle him to sleep again.

﹒　⁺ I think he would read him bedtime stories as well, though you often find him asleep with the book in his hand. It was adorable, really, because somehow he could fall asleep while taking care of him but who were you to complain, at least you could rest a little.

﹒　⁺ Xavier would prefer to take care of the kid most of the time and let you work or hang out with your friends (just not Charlie perhaps). He is still your partner at work of course and whenever at least one of you isn’t at home, you hire a nanny to care for the little sunshine. But overall, he takes a lot of the responsibility, though he loves every single moment of it because he never thought that he would be able to live long enough to see a little clone of you and him combined sleep so softly in his arms.

﹒　⁺ He is very protective of your kid, just as much as he is about you. Xavier does his best to keep him away from wanderers, he doesn’t even want your child to look at them because the little one will have nightmares later on. Whenever a wanderer attack does happen, he handles it with ease and then checks up on the two of you, he is always so worried as well

﹒　⁺ When it comes to parenting, he would look like a relaxed type, but he is very protective. During childhood he is very fun and relaxed, he lets him play around and explore and has no issue going to the cinema or to a playground with him. Teenage years are a different world though, especially if your kid gets a partner - you bet he will do a background check on them, their parents, their ancestors, whatever, just to make sure they are enough for your son.

﹒　⁺ He handles any upset situations with ease and a mostly calm face, he does his best to talk with your kid and explain the situation before trying to even punish him somehow. Afterwards however, in the comfort of your bedroom, you see that he is disturbed by those conversations often and he might get more clingy and more silent after this. It just pains him whenever your kid does something bad and mostly because later on he has to do something about this. Worry not, however, give him a few kisses and reassuring words and he will be asleep in your arms in no time, almost like a baby.

“... and then the knight saved the princess. The end.” “Read me another one daddy!” You came back from a night out a few minutes ago, but the sight of your husband reading a bedtime story to your son was so cute you couldn’t help but observe from the door. Though soon enough, Xavier noticed you and you swore the room almost got a little lighter after he saw you there all alive and well.

“Welcome back, dinner is ready if you are hungry. I will heat it up for you in a second after I finish here.” He greeted you with a smile after you came closer to them, he leaned in and gave you a sweet kiss on the lips as a welcome gift.

“No need, I can heat it up on my own, do you want some as well?” You asked him, it would be nice to eat with him, spend some quality time together. All you wanted to do was rest in his arms, to be honest.

“Sure, I can eat a little. Heat up a portion for me too please.” You nodded, it was nice that he agreed, at least you would have some company and you would be able to tell him about all that happened on the night with your friends. You were working hard lately and Xavier was actually the one to propose that idea to you. Your gaze soon drifted to the little one in his bed, already all tucked in and looking sleepy. “Hey baby, I missed you.” You gently kissed his forehead and he murmured something in return, it was clear he was close to falling asleep. “I will go to the dining room soon, just have to finish putting this one to bed.” You nodded and headed to the kitchen to head up the food for the two of you. After about ten minutes though, you noticed that he still hadn't come, you even managed to change into your pajamas already but he was nowhere to be seen so you decided to check your son's bedroom again.

Sure enough, you found Xavier, asleep with a book in his hand while he leaned against your son's bed. You smiled and covered him gently with a blanket.

You sure loved this sleepy star of yours.

Sylus

﹒　⁺ He would have twins 100% and more kids too if you are up for it. It would probably be two girls.

﹒　⁺ He is a rich dad. He buys them whatever they want, but he makes sure not to spoil them too much so they will still be respectful towards hard work and money. If they ever need something for their school trip or perhaps their hobby, he will often buy them it. Their birthdays or holidays are very prosperous and full of joy, Sulus gets the best gifts for everyone because there is no better use of his money than to make his own family happy.

﹒　⁺ Sylus does his best to not get kids into his dark business, they don’t need to worry their pretty heads about it. He keeps them a secret, only Luke and Kieran know and oftentimes, he actually orders them to stay at the mansion and keep the kids and you safe in case something happens when he is away on business. 

﹒　⁺ Disrespect isn’t something that he would tolerate, but he handles it well. Sylus is cold during those talks, because he thought the two of you raised them better, but he understands that the kids make mistakes sometimes and he tries to make them realise their mistakes. In the end, he can never be too harsh on them, he tries but he is too much of a softie when it comes to your kids. 

﹒　⁺ You take care of the kids most of the time and pick them up from school. Sylus is a busy man, you knew this even before you got married so it was fine. He however feels guilty that he can’t spend as much time with them as he would like so he tries to make this up to them and you as much as possible. If you ever tell him that you need a break and feel tired then you already know that he suddenly has the next day off and he is up and with the kids the entire time while you get sent to a spa or on vacation somewhere.

﹒　⁺ He would try to help them with homework after they enter school, but he is always so confused about this. Don’t get him started on arts and music, he doesn’t understand this at all and he doesn’t know how one even teaches such a subject when it comes to the talent and abilities of the individuals, which not all have (like him).

﹒　⁺ I think the kids would somehow get some of his dragonic traits. They love to hoard things like toys or your jewelry in their room, they get so annoyed when you give one sibling more attention than the other and of course, they even look a lot more like Sylus rather than you. The cocky bastard has strong genes. Of course they can’t have a tail, horns or wings, but the twins dressed up as dragons once for halloween and Sylus was ready to cry on the spot.

   Currently you were at the table, drawing with the twins as an afterschool activity. The entire day was a bit hectic, you had a hard mission at work, then you had to rush to pick the kids up, the girls got into a little bit of trouble at school so you had to listen to the teacher scold them which sucked and now they were very energetic after school while you were absolutely drained. You did your best to appear happy, it wasn’t all their fault that the day sucked so much for you and you didn’t want to take it out on them. “I’m home, girls.” Sylus said as he finally, finally came back. He left yesterday morning and didn’t come back until now. You missed him and were worried despite knowing he would be able to handle himself. The girls ran up to him for hugs immediately.

“Daddy! Where were you? We missed you!” The girls said and then they eagerly began to talk to him about what he missed. Such energetic kids they were.

You just watched, resting your elbows on the table, you had a moment of rest it seemed.

Sylus, who noticed that you didn’t go up to greet him, hurried the girls to their room for a moment before he approached you. “Hey there, kitten. Missed me?” He asked as he gave you a kiss and a slight side hug as he noticed how tired you looked. “I did, you sure took your sweet time to come back.” You responded, with a little more bite than you wanted. But Sylus didn’t get mad, rather he seemed worried.

  “How are you holding up? Did the girls give you trouble?” “A little. I’m just… tired, it was a rough day.” You sighed, you didn’t try to hide that you were exhausted, it was visible and you knew he would do his best to help so there was no point.

“I see… how about I take them somewhere fun now, get them to use up all their energy so they will go to sleep nicely and then later on, we can spend some time together, hm? You just rest right now, catch up on some sleep and selfcare.” He proposed while he rubbed your shoulder. He knew taking care of kids could be exhausting sometimes so he would be more than happy to let you rest now and then treat you someplace nice later on. 

“That sounds nice, thank you Sylus..” “Don’t thank me, just go rest, I will take care of our little angels."

[sexlapis]

one shot. angst & fluff.

“Don’t even look at me!” You spit at Nanami. “You don’t even fucking love me anymore.”

Nanami sighs. “Baby, that’s not-“”

“No, no,” you storm away from, going back to furiously washing the dishes like you were doing before he arrived home from work, “seriously. Just go back to your coworkers and have fun with them instead of me. Go have drinks with them or something. Since that’s clearly what you want.”

Nanami gulps. He watches you angrily scrub at a dish, fireing away at an annoying stain.

He takes off his suit jacket.

“Sweetheart.” He walks up behind you, like you’re a skittish, feral cat about to pounce. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, an act which you surprisingly accept. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t give you your kisses.” Nanami kisses your temple. “I was just in a hurry.”

You and Nanami had a routine - he gives you one kiss in the morning, your voice croaky and the crust still caked in the corners of your eyes and one kiss before he leaves for work.

He seems to have forgotten this, much to your dismay.

You huff, not facing him. “…I’m not being ‘sensitive’ or ‘crazy’. They’re important things and you forgot.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

You turn your head to face him this time. “Just sensitive?”

“Well…yes.”

Rolling your eyes, you whip back around to continue washing the dishes.

“Wait. Wait.” Nanami prevents you from turning away from him again. He asks his next question softly. “Is it really just two kisses you’re upset about?”

“Because it’s not fair, Kento!” You shout. The sudden outburst stuns him a little, his heart jumping. “You can’t just leave without saying goodbye!”

Your last word is choked out in a sob and Nanami is quick to pull you to his chest.

He thought you were only joking, being light-hearted and would go back to your usual self after a few kisses, but now? He doesn’t think so.

How long have you been feeling like this? Carrying all of these feelings of worry and distress inside of you, keeping them all stored inside of you until, inevitably, all would be revealed anyway.

It pains him that you didn’t tell him almost as much as the fact that you’re feeling like this in the first place.

It makes him even more resolute in his decision.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?”

You sniffle. “Because of your stupid job and your stupid long hours and your stupid-“”

“Okay, okay.” He shushes you, cupping the base of your head. “Alright”.

You groan. You’ve seemingly come to the realisation that you’ve been acting unreasonably.

“Kenny, I-“”

“I’m going to quit.”

You pause. You look at him, teary eyes wide. “What?”

“I’m going to quit. Do something else. Something…safe.”

“But…but what about when you said-“”

“Forget about what I said. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I can’t do this forever. And…I want you to…I don’t want you to always be worrying about me. Especially if it makes you so stressed out.”

“Kenny…”

A few seconds later, your face is being cradled in big, rough hands. Nanami makes sure you’re looking at him. “You’re my number one priority, okay? Not my coworkers. Not my job.”

Waters ripples in your eyes once more. “Kento…”

“Don’t cry.” He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb. His eyes are soft. The weight of the job is already being lifted off of his shoulders. “I love you. I love you.”

You hiccup. “I love you too.”

Nanami can’t help but smile at your wet face, red nose and runny nostrils. He cradles the back of your head with his hand. “You’re so silly, angel.”

You whine into his chest and he knows everything will be alright.

[steveseddie]

in bloom

written for the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event | prompt: rose | rating: t | wc: 2,3k | tags: modern setting, flower shop au, wayne is the owner, eddie works with him, meet cute

read on ao3

Work at the flower shop is always a little slow after Valentine’s Day.

Eddie has been helping Wayne at Munson’s Floral Treasures long enough to know this. They’ll still get orders, of course– fancy arrangements for weddings, smaller bouquets for birthdays and anniversaries, but most of these are ordered in advance. They don’t get many people walking in throughout the day, looking for a last-minute Valentine’s Day gift.

Eddie likes to send his uncle home on slow days like this. If there are no deliveries to be made and supplies aren’t coming in, Eddie is more than capable of handling however many customers come in by himself. If he can’t, all he has to do is run upstairs to the apartment and get Wayne.

So far there hasn’t been any need for that today. It’s been almost an hour since Eddie sent the old man away and no one has come into the shop. In the meantime, Eddie answers a few calls, writes down a couple of big orders, and sweeps the floor of the shop before going to the backroom to work on some new arrangements for their window display. In case anyone comes looking for a ‘Sorry I forgot about Valentine’s Day’ gift.

Eddie just got started on the second arrangement when the bell finally jingles.

He puts the shears down and steps out of the backroom, wiping his hands on his apron. “Greetings and welcome to Munson’s Floral Treasures!”

There’s a guy standing in the middle of the shop, facing away from Eddie as he studies the flowers covering the walls. He jumps when he hears Eddie, whirling around and offering a little wave. “Oh, hi.”

God, he’s pretty, Eddie thinks as he takes in the guy’s hazel eyes and soft lips. His eyes travel lower to the chest hair peeking out of the guy’s polo shirt and the way his jeans hug his thighs just right.

Then he remembers he’s working and ogling customers is probably rude. Clearing his throat, Eddie offers him a polite smile. “Can I help you?”

The guy shakes his hair out, running his hand through it to push it back. “Yeah, so, I have kind of a weird request.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Lucky for you, I love weird,” he says, which sounds a little weird and makes Eddie grimace. Jesus, try to be normal, Munson.

But the guy chuckles, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I– I need a bouquet that says ‘fuck you’ in a passive-aggressive way,” he says, his eyes flickering nervously over Eddie’s face.

“That’s it?” Eddie asks with a snort. “Because I promise you, man, that’s not the weirdest thing someone has asked for.”

The guy’s eyebrows shoot up. “No?”

“Nope,” he says, leaning on his elbows and gesturing at the guy to come closer like he’s sharing a secret. “One time a guy came in and asked for a flower arrangement to apologize for breaking into a home.”

A disbelieving laugh tumbles from the guy’s lips. “What? Really?”

“Yup. That was the first time that a sale ended with me having to talk to the police,” Eddie says before pursing his lips. “Actually no, that’d be when I used to deal weed in high school.”

The guy lets out a loud laugh, scrunching his shoulders in a way that has Eddie melting against the counter. Pretty, hot and cute. That can’t be fair. “Well, I doubt my bouquet will involve any police investigation.”

“No?” Eddie asks, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not planning on murdering whoever you’re giving it to?”

The guy’s nose scrunches up. “God, I wish, but no, this is just for my own amusement.”

“Good thing I happen to be in the business of amusing pretty guys,” Eddie says, shooting him a flirty grin, getting all up in his space until the guy’s eyes widen and Eddie pulls back. “Uh, customers! I meant customers, Jesus.”

Luckily, the guy seems far from bothered by Eddie’s flirting. In fact, his eyes sparkle with something that looks suspiciously like interest, his cheeks turning pink.

Most times when Eddie has to put together an arrangement he asks the person to check out the shop while he goes to the work table they keep in the back, but he really doesn’t want to waste a moment with this guy so he says fuck it and starts working on the bouquet right there on the counter.

He can feel the guy’s eyes watching him curiously.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Eddie starts, breaking the silence after a moment. “Who is this going to? Cheating girlfriend? Asshole boss? Shitty family member?”

He glances up just in time to catch the guy staring intently at Eddie’s hands as he works. When he feels Eddie’s attention on him, his head snaps up, the color on his cheeks deepening.

“Uh, no– no cheating girlfriend. No girlfriend at all actually,” he says. Then after a short pause, he adds, “no boyfriend either.”

Eddie almost drops the shears. It has to mean something that the guy wants him to know that, right?

Before Eddie can reply with something stupid like ‘good, do you want one?’ the guy keeps talking.

“You were right about the other two, though,” he says. “My shitty father is also my asshole boss.”

Eddie grimaces at that. Wayne is his dad in all ways that count and working with him isn’t bad, but for a second he entertains the idea of having to work with his father instead and already he’s convinced he’d need a couple of ‘fuck you’ bouquets too.

“Our firm is throwing him a party for signing this big company but they don’t care about how many people he had to fire for that to happen or how many of those so-called business trips he spent cheating on my mom,” the guy explains and Eddie lets out a sympathetic whistle.

“Fuck, man. That’s definitely shitty.”

The guy shoots him a tiny smile. “Yeah, and since I’m expected to attend, I thought I could at least get some enjoyment out of it.” He points at the flowers that Eddie is carefully selecting. “This seemed like a better idea than, like, sabotaging his party.”

Eddie lets out an amused snort. “Yeah, that’s probably smart.”

They fall into comfortable silence with the guy staring at Eddie while he works. This time it’s him who strikes up a conversation.

“So, uh, Eddie,” the guy starts, squinting his eyes to read the name tag on his shirt. “I’m not like, telling you how to do your job or anything but isn’t that a lot of orange and yellow? Aren’t those happy colors?”

“Actually, these orange lilies symbolize hatred,” Eddie explains. “And the yellow carnations symbolize rejection and disdain.”

The guy’s mouth falls open in an ‘o’ shape. He leans on the counter and picks another one of the flowers that Eddie has spread out on the counter. “What about this one?”

“Foxglove. They can represent insincerity and deceit.”

The guy nods along as Eddie continues to explain the meaning of every flower he has picked, his eyes sparkling with interest. Flower language is one of the many things Eddie could ramble about for hours, but people usually don’t care enough about it to hear him out. But this guy is listening intently, his chin resting on his hand as Eddie talks.

“And what does that mean?” He asks, pointing at the greens Eddie picked for filler.

“Nothing, that’s just greenery.”

“Oh,” the guy chuckles, ducking his head with an embarrassed little smile. “You– uh, you know a lot about flowers, man. How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was a little kid,” Eddie says, carefully arranging the greens. “My uncle owns the shop so even before I came to live with him I was helping out here. My dad wasn’t around much, he used to drop me off all the time so Wayne started teaching me how to take care of the flowers, how to make arrangements. Now I also help him with deliveries and stuff.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. I've always liked flowers. And I like doing things with my hands,” Eddie says, wiggling his fingers with a smirk, watching as the guy’s eyes follow the movement.

“They’re good. Your hands,” he says, the color rising on his cheeks when his words catch up with him. “I mean, they look good. What they’re doing looks good.”

A pleased grin stretches over Eddie’s lips. “Thanks, big boy,” he says, grinning wider when the guy’s breath hitches.

“Uh, Steve. I’m Steve.”

Eddie thought he’d have to come up with an excuse to ask for his name, some bullshit about needing it for the receipt, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to now. “Well, Steve, any preference for the wrapping?”

“Um, no. You pick.”

“Alright,” Eddie says, grabbing some green wrapping paper and tying it neatly around the bouquet with a red bow. “All done.”

Steve grabs the bouquet with an awed smile. “It’s perfect. So pretty that no one will know I’m telling my dad he sucks.”

“I aim to please,” Eddie says, grinning smugly.

Steve chuckles, reaching into his jacket for his wallet and sliding a card across the counter. Eddie rings him up as slowly as he can get away with, not wanting Steve to go yet.

By the way Steve lingers after Eddie hands his card back, maybe he doesn’t want to either.

“I should go, let you get back to work,” Steve says eventually. Eddie tries not to look too disappointed. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, Stevie. Good luck with your dad.”

Steve makes a face but thanks Eddie again before turning around to leave.

When he’s almost at the door, Eddie impulsively calls after him. “Steve, wait!”

Turning around, he raises an eyebrow at Eddie.

“You– uh, you forgot something.”

“I did?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, plucking a red rose from one of their leftover Valentine’s Day bouquets and ducking under the counter to catch up with Steve by the door. “This.”

“For the bouquet?” He asks, tilting his head.

“No, for you,” Eddie says, “on the house.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Do you give roses to all your customers?”

“Only the pretty ones I really want to see again.”

Steve smiles, finally reaching for the rose. “Well, then,” he says, winking. “I’ll see you, Eddie.”

Eddie grins. “Bye, Steve.”

***

The bell above the door chimes and Eddie pauses his pruning to greet the new customer.

“Welcome to Munson’s Floral Treasures, what can I do for– Steve!” He cuts himself off when he recognizes him, a too big grin appearing on his face.

Steve grins right back, offering a small wave. “Hi, Eddie.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see Wayne glancing at them over the shoulder of the old lady he’s currently helping. Eddie knows he’ll have to explain to his nosey uncle why he’s on a first name basis with a customer and why he’s so happy to see him, but he’ll worry about that later.

“You’re back,” Eddie says, turning his attention back to Steve. It’s been a week since the first time he was here and Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t spend his days glancing wistfully at the door every time someone came in hoping it was Steve. “Here for another ‘fuck you’ bouquet?”

Steve chuckles, following Eddie to the counter. “No, I’m here for something else.”

Eddie ducks behind the counter, resting his elbows on the surface. “Another weird request?” He asks, playfully waggling his eyebrows.

“You tell me,” Steve says, copying Eddie’s position on the opposite side of the counter, leaving their faces only inches apart. Eddie gulps, heat rising to his cheeks. “I need you to deliver a bouquet for me.”

“That’s pretty standard for a flower shop, Stevie,” Eddie says, cocking his head in amusement. “But sure, whatcha need?”

“A bouquet that says ‘do you want to go on a date with me?’”

Eddie blinks, trying to make sure he’s not imagining the little smirk tugging at Steve’s lips. “Oh, um, of course. We can do that!” He says, his voice an octave too high. “What’s– what’s the address for the delivery?”

That smirk turns into a full-on grin. “Oh, that’s easy,” Steve says, leaning even closer. Eddie hopes Wayne is too busy with the old lady to see what’s happening or he’ll never hear the end of this. “Munson’s Floral Treasures– ever heard of it?”

Eddie’s stomach flip-flops wildly. “You tryna ask my uncle on a date, Stevie?” He teases, barely able to keep the giddy smile off his face. “He might be a little too old for you.”

“Maybe,” Steve shrugs, walking his fingers on the counter until they’re brushing against Eddie’s arm. “But I think his nephew might be perfect for me.”

Eddie’s knees go weak from Steve’s words and his featherlight touch on his arm. “I think you might be right,” he says, biting his lip.

Steve’s eyes flicker down for a split second. “So, you’ll send that for me?”

“Yup. Happy to.”

“Great.” Steve grabs a pen from the counter and writes something down on the notepad where they take orders. “Here’s my number. You know, so you can let me know how the delivery went and what the answer was.”

Eddie nods, and with a wink, Steve turns around and leaves.

As soon as he walks through the door, Eddie grabs his phone and dials Steve’s number. He watches through the window as Steve stops and digs his phone from his pocket, a smile twitching at his lips as he brings it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s a yes,” Eddie says eagerly.

Steve peers through the window and shoots him a lopsided grin. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So can I pick you up on Friday at 7?”

Eddie forces himself not to let a happy squeal or punch his fist in the air because Steve can see him. “Yeah, that’s– that’s good.”

“See you on Friday then,” Steve says, hanging up and waving at Eddie through the window before he disappears down the street.

As soon as he’s gone, Eddie breaks into a grin. He gets weird looks from Wayne and the customers that come in throughout the day but it hardly matters. He has a date to look forward to.

[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentences (fourteen)

lewis hamilton - "yes, please keep doing that."

tags: smut/pwp, ferrari driver!reader, rivals/teammates/lovers, oral sex & fingering (reader receives)

sinful sentences catalogue

you didn't have a kink, you thought the idea of a hand kink was stupid. you didn't look at hands on the internet, you didn't get wet to the sight of them in public. it wasn't a kink.

but you had a thing for your teammate's hands. formula one driver's hand pretty big hands, but it wasn't just that fact that made lewis hands arousing. it was how tactile he could be with them, how he wore his rings.

when you jokingly said let's compare hand sizes in an attempt to brush off the rough weekend together. he complied and you felt something stir in your core.

"look at that." lewis said, his dark eyes looked away from your hands and towards your heated face, "quite the difference." but all your could hear was the thumping of blood in your ears.

you linked your fingers with his and leaned towards him, he laid back on the bed with you on top of him. you held hands while you went in to kiss him deeply on the lips.

you and lewis had been dancing around this since you both joine ferrari. when carlos and charles got the boot (sorry!), two legacy drivers were snatched up from their teams and dumped into the red seats. lewis had seven world champions and you had a much less impressive three. you had been in each other's space for a long period of time and being on the same team meant a forced proximity that only made everything boil over.

sometimes you wanted to kill each other and other things you wanted to fuck like rabbits in the garage. as was the nature of teammates.

you looked at one another, you on top of him. his other hand was at your waist. you realized how lovely his eyes were and it made something shudder through you. before you could say a word, he leaned in to kiss you square on the mouth once more.

with a little help from you, he got you onto your back. he let go of your hand and reached for your jaw. he looked into your eyes once more. the gaze between you two was heated.

you swallowed and he smiled. it was like the spell between you two was broken. the dance was over and there was finally a conclusion between you two.

he asked, "do you want this?"

you nodded, "i..i do." and without thinking grazed your tongue across the top front of your teeth. you unbuttoned your jeans, you kicked them off your legs and to the bottom of the bed to be found in the morning.

his larger hands were on your breasts where he palmed them with a little force. he was testing out what made you squirm, he knew that you went hot when his words were cunning on the track. but he wanted to put his talented fingers to use to make you moan.

"look at you." he said softly, "i wish we had done this years ago. all that time of you and i pushing each other on the track." he chuckled fondly at the memories, "how the press pitted us together. my greatest rival." affection on the tip of his tongue before he took the bottom of your t-shirt and pulled it up over your head.

clothes were shed and before you got straddled his waist to get the show on the road, but he kept you pinned down to the bed. you gave him a quizzical look and he winked at you before he kissed at your hip. he gazed up at you and said, "you like my hands, let me use them. and my tongue too." then licked his top lip for extra effect. it made your cunt clench.

you knew after this, you two would still be teasing one another. you would still be intertwined, but now was lovers too. he dipped his head down and kissed your inner thigh.

"fuck."

lewis chuckled as he kissed your slick pussy, he dragged his tongue across your folds for a moment, but kept one hand on your thigh to keep you down. he wasn't having his teammate make a quick escape. not when he wanted to gorge himself on your beautiful cunt.

"how's that?" he asked.

"yes, please keep doing that."

lewis smiled against you and hoisted your hips up a little to get better access to you. years and years of rivalry. it wasn't super serious, it was more friendly in competition. see who could come out on top and a few times you've surprised him. he liked that you were on a different level than most of the drivers who had come in, you made a name for yourself in the world of racing.

when he first started his career, he thought you two would make quite the power couple. but your paths never crossed in that way. you both dated other people, but always remained in each other's orbit. maybe it was time to change that your careers were nearing its twilight and now on the same team, maybe it was time to give the two of you a chance.

one up the bond that charles and carlos had on the team and actually go all the way with a relationship. as lewis started to finger you, he knew that you wouldn't go easy on him on the track. not that he'd want that, any victory against you would be earned. he heard your sweet moans and continued to finger you as he worked his tongue against your clit.

it felt right. he took his time with you, he wanted to pleasure you. maybe a small part of him wanted to outdo any other guy you had ever been with. that popstar from england or the engineer from germany. the hockey player and the businessman from the united states. quite a colourful cast of men you had been with, but lewis wanted to outdo them. make the years of dancing around each other worth it.

and with the sounds you were making, he was achieving his goal. he kissed your clit before he pulled slightly pulled away his head to look up at you. he wanted to admire you as he pleasured you. his lips shiny with your wetness that went down to his chin. he said softly, "look at you. a world champion taken apart by my fingers. i can see why you like them so much." he slowly licked his lips.

when you tried to hide your face from the rush of heat in your cheeks he laughed. you were normally so stoic on the track, but there you were under him completely coming apart. "i bet you thought about me. in hotel rooms across the globe, wondered what i was up. some nights i bet it took all your power now to come to my hotel room. but don't worry." he kissed your slit once more, "i spent many, many nights thinking about you. when you won your first championship, i wanted to shower you in champagne and then kiss you."

his words were sultry and it made your stomach leap. the tension could've been solved years ago. the realization made you drop your head into the pillows and your hand found the back of his head. he went back down on you, he worked his magic and you felt the heat in your core.

you moaned and a string of curses left your lips. you let him touch you, feel you. you realized that you liked his fingers a lot more than you initially thought. you shakily exhaled as the pleasure accumulated in your core. there was something deeply erotic about him. about this entire thing.

to be so close to him. you held onto him tightly and pressed his face further against your needy cunt. he quickened his movements between your legs and you tensed up. your voice got a bit higher and the lust burned your blood as you moved your hips a little as you climaxed on his tongue.

the continued to pleasure you through your orgasm. he only stopped when your hips touched the bed once more. laid out in a panting mess as you felt the aftershocks of pleasure.

lewis moved up to face you, he rubbed your cheek with his thumb and you melted into his touch a little while you panted heavily. you eased into one another as lewis wiped his mouth clean of your wetness with the back of his hand. both in bed naked together, his cock prodded against your stomach.

you noticed the feeling and opened your eyes to look at him. you smiled lazily, still blissed out before you took him by the shoulders and pinned him to the bed. his dark eyes grew wide and then chuckled as you straddled his waist.

your hand spread across his strong, tattooed chest as you said, "think we're dont, hamilton?" you winked at him, "think of this as endurance training. you'll need everything you can get, because i'm not going easy on your next weekend."

lewis took the challenge and gripped onto your hips. there was a twinkle in his eye as he said, "of course, but after this i'm giving you a little training of my own." <3

[lolahauri]

˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :Sex With Gihun, S1;:

my favorite boy gi-hunney 🫶 i've been itching to write smut about him. i have tewww many thoughts about this man. S2 hc's coming next!

(also too much to warn for everything, so read at your own risk!)

-> F/M, Long HC's, Panty Stealing, Lots Of Diff Kinks/Positions, Pervy! Gihun, Etc... <-

༊*·˚ Ohh this man is so openly down bad and pathetic for you. Like he's such a simp it's kinda embarrassing! He just really see's you as way too good for him. :(

༊*·˚ Kind of a perv too tbh, but can you blame him? You're just so beautiful and alluring, he can't help but be so attracted to you.

༊*·˚ Every once in a while, he's the type to rummage through your laundry and find a pair of freshly used panties to steal. He'd stuff them under his pillow to keep and use for when he's horny and you're not available.

༊*·˚ Imagine when he finally puts them to good use the same night...

༊*·˚ Gihun would start by teasing his cock over his jeans, eyes closed while he inhales your scent, pretending it's you who's edging him. When he gets impatient, he'd quickly unzip his pants and pull his cock out through the fly.

༊*·˚ He'd try to stroke a little slowly at first. Up, down, up, down, while groaning your name. Burying his face into the panties, he'd start licking and sucking on the fabric while he beats his cock faster. His lips would be nonstop pouring broken whimpers and pleads, begging as if you were actually there.

༊*·˚ Imagining you is what would send him over the edge too. Picturing you still in the panties, humping his face and pulling his hair, it'd make his cock throb and balls draw up in no time. And without thinking, he'd wrap the article around his dick just in time to catch his fresh load, totally soaking your favorite panties in his hot sticky cum.

༊*·˚ He'd feel a little guilty and gross afterwards, but not enough to keep him from doing it again next week.

༊*·˚ Imagine catching him while he finishes though... Climbing on top of him and untangling your tong from around his softening cock, grinning while he stutters out excuses and apologies. But instead of scolding him, you shut him up by stuffing the underwear in his mouth and sitting yourself in his lap.

༊*·˚ He'd look at you with wide eyes and a deep blush on his face, but not stop you. In fact, he'd immediately notice his cock hardening underneath you again, despite the embarrassment of being caught and tasting his own cum.

༊*·˚ The night would end in you riding him until you're both unable to cum anymore. And he would go to bed wondering if he should get caught doing this more often.

༊*·˚ Gihun loves dirty talk, especially if there's praise mixed in. He gets so unbelievably turned on by knowing he's making you feel good. He priorities your pleasure first, after all.

༊*·˚ "Fuuck, Gihun! You look so good underneath me, my pretty boy."

༊*·˚ "Be a good boy and take it, alright? I know you can last longer than that."

༊*·˚ "That's it, baby, don't stop. Keep fucking me just like that, feels s'fucking good."

༊*·˚ "C'mon, look at me while you cum inside, Gihun."

༊*·˚ In return, he'd be so vocal as well. Not as much talking, but more so whimpering, crying, moaning, swearing, whining. He's especially vocal in response to your praise. (And some specific actions.)

༊*·˚ Pulling his hair is a good way to make his moan like a girl. His favorite is when you grab his hair and forcefully press his face into your bare cunt. Or when you're on top, please pull his hair back and make him look you in the eyes. Instant putty in your hands.

༊*·˚ Swears and groans the most when he's on top. He'd be the type to get so lost in the pleasure of fucking you that he cannot shut up. If he's got you bent over in doggy, then he's leaning over you and kissing your neck while he groans in your ear.

༊*·˚ Or in missionary, he's got his face buried in your tits while he moans about how fucking good you feel. Loves playing with your nipples in this position too. Sucking, pinching, rubbing, anything to make you squirm under his touch.

༊*·˚ Occasionally whispers things like "feels so fucking good." "you're so perfect." "fucking love you so much." "so tight and wet for me."

༊*·˚ Whimpers and gasps the most when doing oral.

༊*·˚ He's totally pathetic when you suck him off. Every bob of your head, kiss on his tip, squeeze on his balls has him gasping for breath and whining like crazy. He loves it when you make eye contact too. Watching you look him in the eyes while you take him down your throat makes his cock throb and twitch relentlessly.

༊*·˚ During oral he tries to not be pushy of course, but sometimes he can't help but thrust his hips into your face a little. Or weaving his hands through your hair and giving a gentle tug onto his cock. He's just so fucking needy he can't hold back sometimes.

༊*·˚ Imagine giving him the go-ahead to fuck your face. He'd be so hesitant, almost refusing, but eventually he'd give in. (And be so glad he did.)

༊*·˚ He'd start off slow, cupping your cheek and keeping eye contact while gently rocking his hips. Feeling you gag lightly when his tip reaches the back of your throat has him feeling both guilty and insanely turned on. He love love loves the sight of you taking in his impressive length all at once.

༊*·˚ That tender pace would keep up for a while, gradually increasing the intensity until he's needy and aching to cum down your throat. That's when he'd put your hair in a makeshift ponytail with one hand and cup your cheek with the other, quietly asking if he can pleaseee go faster.

༊*·˚ When you enthusiastically agree, he throws his head back and starts rutting into your face like he's in heat, briefly looking down every so often and admiring the sight of drool and tears dripping down your cute face. He doesn't last too long in these conditions. Gihun quickly feels that knot in his abdomen tightening, moans and swears slipping past his lips with each thrust.

༊*·˚ As he finishes, he presses your face against him one last time, his cock twitching with each spurt of cum he shoots down your abused throat. He feels a chill go up his spine when he slowly pulls out and watches you swallow his load.

༊*·˚ Gihun would get apologetic so quickly. Repeatedly asking if he went to hard while wiping your tears and spit. The best way to reassure him is to just shut him up with a kiss. (He would moan into your mouth if you did that.)

༊*·˚ His volume is the loudest when you ride him. He does not last long at all either.

༊*·˚ Every bounce has him nearly screaming out moans, mixing beautifully with the creamy sounds of cunt wetting his cock. You love it, of course, but your neighbors definitely don't. So sometimes it gets to the point you have to muffle his noises yourself (because he definitely wont hold back himself!)

༊*·˚ You can either do that by covering his mouth with your hand, or making him suck on your tits while you ride. He has no preference, both get him incredibly turned on.

༊*·˚ He cries the most when being edged or overstimulated. But if you were to pull away, he'd get even more needy and annoyed, because why on earth would you stop?! Safe to say he actually enjoys it.

༊*·˚ Definitely moans into your pussy when he eats it. Also a massive munch, borderline addicted to it. If you're having a bad day, he insists on you sitting on his face, letting you use him as much as you want until you feel better.

༊*·˚ He'll eat your cunt in any position you want. But he does have a favorite that we'll get to in a second.

༊*·˚ If you want it from the back, he'll bend you over a counter or table and get on his knees right away. Once he has your panties pulled down or to the side, he doesn't waste time by teasing you. He gets right into it, rubbing your clit in tight circles while fucking his tongue in-and-out of your dripping hole.

༊*·˚ Loves to smack, squeeze, and rub your cute butt while he eats you out too. Gihun is for sure an ass guy, no matter the size or shape. he just loves your ass, especially when it's in his face (or lap).

༊*·˚ Again, he also enjoys it when you sit on his face and use him. His favorite thing is when you grind on his tongue and nose while pulling his wavy locks. If you pay attention, you'll also hearing him stroking his cock while you fuck his face. You don't mind that at all though, the extra sensation of him moaning into your cunt just makes it all feel better.

༊*·˚ He LOVES 69 too, but you would end up doing most of the work hehe. Your lips wrapped around his cock distracts him too much to do any real eating. So you may also just have to ride his face in reverse-cowgirl while you suck him off.

༊*·˚ But his favorite position would be you on your back and him in sniper position. That way he can really bury his face in it while grinding his aching cock on the mattress. He also enjoys to view of you grabbing your tits, and likes that you have better access to grab his hair and push his face into your pussy.

༊*·˚ Gihun would for sure overstimulate himself on accident in this position. He'd finish in his pants before he's done eating you out, but he wouldn't be able to stop himself from continuing to grind on the bed. He'd have this boxers soaked with at least three loads of his cum before he even thinks about stopping.

༊*·˚ He'd be so pussy drunk as well, addicted to taste of your juices on his tongue. He'd slide his tongue into your hole first, before running it up and down your folds a few times, eventually landing on your throbbing clit.

༊*·˚ After a few delicate kisses and licks, he'd latch his lips around it, sucking harshly on your clit and circling his tongue around it a few times. He'd practically be french-kissing your cunt at some points, eating it more for his own pleasure than yours.

༊*·˚ Eventually when you're done and can't take it anymore, you'd have to pull him off of you. You could tell just by the look in his eyes that he was so far gone he probably would've gone all night if you didn't stop him.

༊*·˚ He'd look so pretty though. Just imagine his pretty brown eyes with his pupils blown wide, looking at you with pure love and lust, his face dripping in your cum as he pants and tries to collect himself and snap out of his drunken state. Phew...

༊*·˚ Gihun would also go crazy for dry humping. He has a love/hate relationship with being teased. (mostly love <3)

༊*·˚ Imagine sitting in his lap and kissing while you roll your hips into each other. He's softly moaning into your mouth while his hands grab and squeeze anything in reach. When he starts getting close, he digs his fingers into your hips and starts grinding you on him even harder.

༊*·˚ You latch your lips onto his neck when you feel his cock twitch between your thighs, sucking hickeys onto his flesh and giving little love bites. That combined with the humping has him loudly cumming in his pants, groaning and panting in your ear like he's just run a marathon.

༊*·˚ He slowly stops moving you when he's finished completely. Afterwards bringing your face back up to his and giving you a soft, but deep kiss on the lips. The two of you end up lying down and falling asleep in each others arms.

༊*·˚ Overall I think he leans more to the submissive side, but he's just very needy and eager to please, so really he'd just do whatever you wanted. <3

[starry-bi-sky]

first off -- you posted this 7:35 AM my time and 10 minutes later i woke up so im choosing to believe that the universe saw you made this and decided to shake me awake screaming "GIRLL YOU GOTTA LOOK AT THIS" i am so 💖💖💖💞💖♥️💖💗 over iiiIITT. i love it. i love them. the first video being from the same day as the fight bruce saw is so good. That's such a good tie. Beautiful, poetic. They make me so emotional.

"Who am I if not a blood blossom stan and yapper" 🤝 CHEERS I'LL DRINK TO THAT

im dedicating this to @detectivedarling. i felt inspired after seeing their little ficlet yesterday sadhjfl 🫶

-

Danny's grip on his cane tightens.

"What—"

His voice cracks. He stops, clears it, then tries again in spite of the nausea twisting in his gut. "What are — you, uh, watching, Bruce?" He sounds horribly far away.

Bruce doesn't look at him, his attention laser-focused on the screen. Which is— fine. It's usually not a problem, Bruce gets like that when he hyper-focuses on a case, and unless it's urgent — or he's been at it for hours — Danny sees no need to pull him away from it. He likes the quiet camaraderie they have, it's companionable and unique to the two of them.

He wishes he was right now though. Looking at him, that is.

That way he wasn't watching what was clearly one of Danny's ghost fights. One of the nastier ones, if the collateral damage and rubble on the street is of any indication.

Danny tries to remember which one that is. He shuffles a little closer to the desk, ignoring the rock in his stomach or the ugly weightlessness in his arms. It's not the blood blossoms, that much he knows. He just recently had an injection so it shouldn't be bothering him this soon—

So it's just nerves. Perfect.

Most footage of his fights are— messy, at best. Unusable at worst. Amity Park was obsessed with appearing 'normal' when they first started happening, and typical news stations censor the worst of the fights anyways for publishing, since they can get pretty gory at times. And ghosts move too fast to be caught on regular standard cameras, not including distance and light and—

That is to say— finding usable ghost fight videos is hard.

Danny wonders how Bruce got his hands on this one, and then stops wondering.

The audio is muted, which is - good. Good, because the fight is ugly and chaotic and clearly this was taken on someone's phone. Fuck, he can't remember if he ever saw that before — clearly not. They're hiding behind an overturned car, and Danny grits his teeth so he doesn't tell that idiot to run.

The camera turns up, and focuses on two figures in the air. It takes a few seconds, but when it does, Danny gets hit with a wave of vertigo. His grip tightens and he leans heavily on his cane, he waits for the black dots to disappear.

He- uh, he remembers this fight now. Uh, sort of.

He remembers being twelve at the time, and he remembers some of the injuries he got out of it. His eyelid spasms abruptly. This ghost wasn't one of his regulars, so he doesn't remember whatever name they had, barely remembered what they looked like up until- uh. Now.

Was he always that small? Well— Phantom's never been particularly big, perks of being a dead kid, but— it's - different. Seeing it from an outsider perspective. Was he that small? Or is it just because he's wearing a jumpsuit clearly too big for him that casts the illusion of being small?

Doesn't really - matter. Now. He can't access his ghost form, and he already knows the answers to his appearance.

Phantom is clearly bleeding, viscous and violently green like the bubbles of a lava lamp, clutching onto a limp shoulder that's missing an arm from the elbow down. Half his face is drenched in similar blood, the eye on the drenched side is closed — not because he can't see through the ectoplasm.

Danny's memories of that fight slowly come in a bit clearer. Right. He took a pole to the eye in that one. That had - hurt. A lot. Getting an eye gouged out usually does. It and the missing arm took hours to grow back.

He rubs his eye with his palm for no other reason than it itches.

The other ghost isn't untouched of any injury either, but he's not in a state of dismemberment like Phantom is.

Danny drops his gaze down at Bruce, whose sitting in his chair with his hands threaded together, looking so tense that Danny half expects to meet solid steel if he were to touch his back. His face is - blank. Terribly blank, with an intensity in his eyes that Danny doesn't see often.

He looks terribly distressed.

He opens his mouth, and finds that nothing comes out. His throat is thick with an ugly, tar-like feeling that makes his eyes sting. Kinda reminds him of when someone wraps their hands around your throat and presses. He closes his mouth, then tries again.

"B—" hhhhhh, "Buzz."

Finally Bruce looks at him, one hand slaps the space button on the keyboard, and the video pauses. His expression doesn't shift, but there's a weight in the lines of his face that reminds Danny of a set of weights sagging.

He looks quite like he's grieving something.

Bruce opens his mouth, his voice comes out terribly soft and heartbroken: "He looks like you."

Which is— a terrifying sentence in and of itself. One that makes Danny's legs shake and ignite his ragged, poison-chewed nerves alight with the need to run. An instinctive urge to deny, deny, deny.

How could he? He could say, that's a ghost, Bruce. I'm not a ghost. He could crack a joke, and ask, 'do I look dead to you?' or say something about how he knows that his parents studied ghosts, but that didn't make him one.

He could say that, and he could say it knowing full well that Bruce would see right through it. He'd probably let Danny too.

Danny closes his eyes. They sting, you see? So does his nose, right in the back like someone popped him in the face. And his throat is thick and gross and like someone stuck a spider, the big fat tarantula kind, right down into his esophagus.

He breathes in — through his mouth, because his nose stings and so it'd be best not to irritate it further with air — and it's terribly shaky and uneven. But it clears a pathway to his lungs big enough for him to say — whisper, really:

"You know, I think you're the first person to notice that."

[jd-loves-fiction]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫

🌑 got lost in the sauce again... The horny sauce this time😭 I love this menace so much it's not funny and the amount of fics for him is honestly criminal so I'm fixing it myself ENJOY!!! :)

⚠️: Spoilers for the Wardance quests, oral sex (m!receiving), not beta read

The cunning fox is never far. Even blinded he finds a way to get to you no matter where you’ve moved – you suspect it has something to do with those exceedingly sharp senses.

“Isn't it a bit early to be cooking?” Jiaoqiu questions softly as he enters the kitchen, hands gravitating to your waist like metal to a magnet, edging under your shirt to drag his nails over your skin. Keeping the knife in your hand steady is a harder task than he ever made it seem when he was the one doing the cooking, “This is just prep, plus aren't you hungry?”

He hums lowly right by your ear, sending shivers down your spine while his ear flicks against your cheek. By the way he sneaks a nail beneath your waistband you know his intentions are anything but innocent. Though you have been neglecting him…

Just as the thought of giving in to him forms in your distracted mind, the bandages still wrapped around your lover’s chest brush against the back of your arms, “You should still be resting.”

He groans in protest, nose burying even deeper into the side of your neck as his hips push lightly against yours while the shadow of his tail flicks in irritation, “Not tired and I’m no cub, no need to treat me like one.”

You sigh heavily, putting the knife down to avoid an accident. The wounds have been closing steadily for some time now and given Foxian's accelerated healing he should be safe to start moving around more, but there’s also the issue of his vision. The last thing you want is to jump right into it like before and overwhelm his senses when he’s still getting used to them again.

The sharp sting of a fang nibbling your ear rips you away from such thoughts, as intended, “Come on, I miss you so much, dear.” he purrs it in that way he knows gets you weak in the knees and bending to his will most of the time. Just not today.

“Jiaoqiu, you know we can't. No matter how much I want to.” You spare a fleeting thought to the fact that the irresponsible one in this situation is the healer out of the two of you.

Said healer goes quiet for a second, huffing in frustration before dropping his head onto your shoulder and that should be it. You think he’s given up – not a chance.

He grumbles to himself as he peels his chest away from your back, teasingly brushing his fluffy tail along your back as he turns. Soft steps are cut off by the loud sound of Jiaoqiu hitting a chair with his shin after misjudging the distance. He raises his hand just as you go to ask if he’s alright, as if feeling your eyes on him.

The pink-haired Foxian sits heavily, legs spread in what would seem like relaxation if not for the hard-on clearly visible beneath the fabric of his loose pants, chest bound with (thankfully) clean bandages.

He opens his eyes to reveal that mesmerizing golden gaze, even though it does not change the fact that he cannot see – he knows what it does to you, “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”

Your breath hitches – you know he hears it with how his ear twitches and his lips shift into a pleased smirk, lithe hand drifting purposely slow down his own body. Eyes lingering on his bandages and remembering the awful scars beneath, your hesitation persists, even as you abandon your cooking to watch him. 

His hand slips underneath the waistband of his pants as he breathes heavy. All you see is the suggestion of what he’s doing beneath the fabric, neck muscles twitching and tensing as he grips his cock.

Shit. Your self-control is not strong enough for this, “Jiaoqiu…”

“W-What? You can keep cooking, dear. I hope I’m not distracting y-you.” He stutters, sweat sliding down his long neck from where his hair sticks to his skin while his hand speeds up. A sharp canine digs into his plush bottom lip and stars you wish that was you.

“For a healer, you’re being very irresponsible,” You scold, hands gripping the cold counter behind you, “As a healer, denying yourself the satisfaction you crave is much more d-detrimental.” 

Him and his clever comebacks. You know full well that the two cannot compare, but you’re past caring at this point. Turning your head up to the ceiling you take a deep steadying breath, weighing your options once more, “Baby, please…”

Fuck it, “You’re a terrible influence, you know that?” he smirks like he’s got you exactly where he wants you, knowing you’re finally giving into him.

Your steps are large and hurried as you make your way to him, kneeling in between his legs without hesitation and lightly pushing his hand away from himself, all while he grins infuriatingly pretty, tail curling from side to side in anticipation.

Taking his cock out into the open air, he takes a deep, steadying breath through his teeth, hands gripping the back of his chair to ground himself. You just hope he won't regret this immediately.

But you can't deny that you’ve missed this – missed him. Your mind has been so crowded with concern and desperation that you haven't even allowed yourself to think of him in such a way for a while now. No wonder he’s feeling this needy, and the fact that you basically have to help him to do every little thing now surely isn't helping his case. You can't imagine all that’s running though his mind since he’s refused to mention the incident since the night he returned home, but you can guess that it’s like a storm in there.

Doesn't mean you’ll go easy on him though.

Wrapping your lips around the head of cock, you relish in the shaky moan that leaves his bitten lips, along with the way his hands twitch – wanting to hold your head and pull you along as he wishes.

All your movements are torturously slow, on purpose – you’ll show him what he gets when he’s being a menace, injured or not.

“Come on, dear. Faster…” He whimpers beautifully, hoping to tempt you into listening from his honeyed tone alone. And though a spike of arousal does make its way between your legs, you’re not one to give in so easily, “What’s wrong? I thought you liked teasing.”

Jiaoqiu’s brow twitches in annoyance, smirk wavering at your gall – words so innocent and yet so biting. He’ll get what you give him at the pace you want, or he’ll get nothing at all.

“If you feel like it’s too much, tell me.” You remind him gently and he nods in understanding. And then, you’re taking him down as far as you can and he nearly chokes on his own breath, a loud moan punched out of throat at the sudden wave of pleasure that rolls through all of his nerve endings.

You pull back a moment later, letting him catch his breath before beginning again, gentler this time, pulling him apart slowly and lovingly. You want to whisper all the reassurances he needs to hear – how good he is, how pretty he sounds, how you love him and all his teasing and how you just want him safe and healthy…

How seeing him in such a state that night nearly broke you. But your mouth is a tad bit busy for so many words, so you settle for rubbing soft circles onto his thigh as you work.

Jiaoqiu pants heavily, eyes squeezed shut with parted lips which let saliva slip between them and down his chin – utterly lost in the way your mouth wraps around him after so long without any such affection, “Please, I’m so–”

He cuts himself off with a resounding moan and under your hands you feel the strength that it takes for him to keep his hips from bucking up into your mouth, pleasured sounds growing in frequency and volume as you speed up, taking him deeper and sealing your lips tighter. 

A high-pitched, pitiful cry of your name is followed by the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat, pleasant in its taste as you always expect. You part from him slowly, offering comforting pets to his thigh as he winces in oversensitivity. 

“Will you let me cook lunch now?”

[ducksido]

Loved your Baur courting fic but I would DIE at a Sebek version especially where his “flawless” courtship of the Prefect is so misinterpreted since she is from our world and has NO idea about Fae customs and suddenly Sebek is coming at them full sprint screaming about dueling💀

(I had to write this as quick as i can)

The first time Sebek challenged Y/n to a duel, they genuinely thought he wanted to kill them.

To be fair, the sight of a six foot two-tall, half-fae knight-in-training charging at them full speed, bellowing about honor and proving himself, was enough to send them into full fight-or-flight mode.

Y/n had barely stepped out of Ramshackle Dorm when they heard his unmistakable voice echo across the courtyard.

“PREFECT! PREPARE YOURSELF! I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!”

Their stomach dropped. “What.”

Sebek didn’t slow down. In fact, he picked up speed, the sunlight gleaming dramatically off his perfectly polished uniform. Y/n had just enough time to yelp and throw themselves sideways, narrowly avoiding becoming a human pancake. They hit the ground, heart hammering, as Sebek skidded to a halt, his expression filled with… determination?

“What are you doing?!” they gasped, staring up at him in horror.

He crossed his arms, eyes burning with fervor. “It is only right that I prove myself in battle! A worthy knight must show their devotion through strength, and I shall not rest until I have earned your acknowledgment!”

Y/n blinked. Once. Twice.

“…Acknowledge what? What are you talking about?”

Sebek’s face flushed an alarming shade of red, but instead of embarrassment, he seemed positively brimming with more intensity. “MY COURTSHIP, OF COURSE!”

Their brain short-circuited.

They were courting him? When had that happened? More importantly, how were they still alive if they had somehow been dating Sebek without realizing it?

“I—” They struggled to form a response. “Sebek. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Nonsense!” He pointed at them dramatically. “As Lord Malleus’s most loyal retainer, I would never conduct myself improperly! I have been displaying the most exemplary courtship rituals known to Fae-kind!”

“…Such as?”

He began listing on his fingers. “Training at dawn outside your dormitory every morning so you may witness my strength. Bringing you exotic meats from the Night Market to ensure you are properly nourished. Vowing to vanquish anyone who so much as looks at you with ill intent.” He huffed proudly. “And, of course, challenging you to a duel! Only by testing your mettle can I prove we are well-matched!”

Y/n ran a hand down their face. “Sebek.”

“Yes?”

They took a deep breath. “None of that is normal where I’m from.”

Sebek frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean people from my world don’t… do all that when they like someone.”

His eyes widened in abject horror. “IMPOSSIBLE! Then how do your knights swear fealty to their beloved?!”

“…We go on dates?” they offered weakly.

Sebek looked as though they had just spoken in riddles. “Dates?” He repeated the word as if it were a foreign concept. “Like… strategy meetings?”

“No! Like… going out somewhere fun. Talking. Spending time together.”

His expression darkened with deep contemplation. Then, after a moment, he straightened, resolved. “Then I shall take you on one of these ‘dates!’”

Y/n threw their hands up. “That’s not—” They sighed. “You know what? Sure. Fine. One date. But NO more surprise duels!”

Sebek grinned, victorious. “HAH! THEN IT IS DECIDED! I SHALL PLAN THE MOST HONORABLE DATE IMAGINABLE!”

Y/n had a sinking feeling that they had made a mistake.

(Spoiler: They had. They got kicked out of Monstro Lounge)

The next day, in the cafeteria, Y/N and Sebek sat together, hands intertwined. It had become a casual, natural thing, but the moment their friends noticed, the reaction was instant.

Ace nearly choked on his drink. “WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! Are you two… holding hands?!”

Deuce’s eyes widened. “W-Wait… does this mean—? Are you guys dating?!”

Epel smirked, nudging Jack. “Looks like all that effort finally paid off.”

Jack folded his arms, giving Sebek an approving nod. “Hmph. ‘Bout time.” Side-eyeing Deuce who give Ace a crisp 10 madol bill.

Ortho’s eyes glowed excitedly. “Oh! Congratulations, Sebek! I’ll make sure to update my data on human-fae relationships!”

Grim, meanwhile, gagged dramatically. “Ugh! This is so gross! Y/N, how could ya do this to me?!”

“D-Do not make such a fuss! This is simply—!”

Y/N squeezed his hand, cutting him off with an amused smile. “Yeah. We’re dating.”

Sebek made another strangled noise as Ace and Deuce erupted into laughter, and Grim continued his dramatics. Y/N just chuckled, leaning against him. This started with Sebek running at them full speed to them holding hands.

[rcmclachlan]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the lovely @beanarie!

Here's a snippet of something I started writing yesterday. It hit me out of nowhere, and once I came out of the fugue state, I discovered I'd written 4,000 words.

The premise: Buck is in the middle of making room for his stuff in Tommy's closet when he finds an old phone hidden in a shoebox. Unexpectedly, it starts ringing.

+

"Sorry, but I don't negotiate with terrorists," Tommy says, then chucks the hornworm into the bucket by his feet. It lands inside with a muted thunk. There must be a bunch more of the little bastards in there.

"USA! USA!" Buck chants, pumping a fist into the air as he gets closer.

Cracking up, Tommy dashes the back of his gloved hand across his forehead. All it does is smear dirt and make him look rugged and disgustingly sexy. Buck wants to lick every drop of sweat from his body. 

"Done already? Please tell me I got to keep at least three hangers."

"Is there a henley shortage coming that the rest of us aren't ready for? Jesus." Buck holds up the Nike box and says. "I, uh, found this. Or it found me? It started ringing out of nowhere and scared the living shit out of me."

The moment Tommy claps eyes on it, something fascinating happens. Every muscle in his body visibly tenses, like a wave that starts at his jaw and washes its way down, leaving quiet devastation in its wake. In a single almost fluid motion, he straightens up from his lean and folds his hands at the small of his back. Shoulders back, chin up, feet apart. Parade rest. 

Buck's eyebrows hit his hairline. "Tommy?"

"It started ringing." It's not a question or even an accusation. Tommy says it like a simple statement of fact, his voice is flat as a board, the edges sharp enough to draw blood. "It just... started ringing."

"I, uh, yeah?" Buck holds out the box to him, jostling the phone inside, but Tommy doesn't move to take it. 

In fact, Tommy does nothing. Tommy says nothing. Buck has to squint to confirm that he's even breathing. 

After the most terrifyingly silent thirty seconds of Buck's life, Tommy shifts his gaze from Buck to, oddly enough, the sky.

"Did you answer it?"

"No, of course not!" Just because they're on rock solid ground now doesn't mean there aren't still fault lines beneath the surface. He at least thought he knew most of them. "I-I wouldn't, I swear. I just let it ring."

Tommy's nostrils flare. If his lips were any thinner, they'd probably disappear. 

"Um, I'm sorry. I know you said I could have free rein, but I didn't mean..." He has no idea how to end that sentence. He didn't mean to do what? Dig up something that Tommy obviously tried to bury? Make room for himself in Tommy's closet? Make room for himself in Tommy's life in the first place? 

A moment passes, and then the statue that was once his boyfriend shivers back to life. Tommy closes his eyes, exhales, and steps forward to take the box from Buck's trembling hands, tucking it under his arm. He wraps the other around Buck's waist and draws him close for a kiss. Buck pushes into it gratefully.

"Sorry," Tommy says against his mouth, then pecks it again before drawing back. "Sorry, I'm being an asshole. Get that look off your face, you did nothing wrong, okay? I was just... surprised to see it. I forgot it was even in there."

"What is it?" Buck mentally slaps himself. "I mean, I know it's a phone, but who was on the other end of it?"

Tommy doesn't answer right away. Instead he looks up at the sky again for a long moment, a strange smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. When he looks back at Buck, his pupils have shrunken to pinpricks. "Think of it like, uh, an old war injury acting up. It's nothing for you to worry about."

"Is it something for you to worry about?"

No pressure tags: @dadvans, @liminalmemories21, @screamlet, @setmeatopthepyre, and @leashybebes

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

•~{ Heyyyy, so this is a short one because I’m still a little bit busy so here you go and hope you gremlins like it }~•

•Roommate•

Tim is worried about his roommate, Danny Nightingale.

Tim moved into a college provided dorm and that’s where he met Danny, Danny was chill and kind roommate [And definitely not Tim crush what are you talking about] Tim and Danny got along really well and with the added bonus that Danny doesn’t question where Tim goes at night.

And everything was fine until Danny started to get phone calls from someone called “Fruitloop” and every time he finishes a call with “Fruitloop” Danny looks stressed and frustrated and Tim has tried to ask Danny what was going on and if he could help but Danny always says not to worry about it.

Sure Tim was concerned as hell but with Danny not saying anything that would allow Tim to help him there was nothing that Tim could do so Tim left it alone….well he started to document what was happening like when the caller called and what he could hear when Danny would go into another room to answer but still Tim couldn’t do anything.

Until one day Danny went out around 6 at night and said that he had to go visit his godfather and to not wait up for him but Danny didn’t come back that night or the next.

Danny showed out three days later at 2 am with bruises on his arms and some kind of burns on his wrist that looks like he was being held down and the beginnings of a black eye and the clothes he was originally wearing are covered in blood and ripped. Tim found in him on the bathroom floor next to the med kit they keep in there.

Tim immediately asked what happened and is he ok but Danny doesn’t say anything back just trying to wrap bandages around his burned wrist with his shaking hands, Tim grabs his hand and puts it aside and starts to help Danny get bandaged up.

This is more serious than Tim thought.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•Danny has little to no contact with his parents, they know that he’s a halfa but it’s still really awkward to be around them especially his mom

•Danny took Jacks family name

•Jazz is in central city as it has a better psychology major

•Jack is low contact and Maddie is no contact

•Vlad is still a weird asshole that dani and Danny want nothing to do with

•Tim has a major crush on Danny

•Vlad tried to make more clones so he tricked Dani and Danny and did what we here love doing to this boy :) Traumatized the fuck out of him and in the escape Dani started to melt so Danny grab her core and put it inside of him soooo more to the misunderstandings :)

•When Tim finds out about Dani his mind is going to the absolute worst possible place

•Tim’s going to finish the job on Vlad if the Batfam doesn’t hold him back

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearance•

[I can’t really see Danny wearing a dress in this au unless it’s a very important event where Danny can say “Fuck gender norms!”]

•~{ And that’s it! I couldn’t really think of a background for Danny’s side of this so it leave it in your hands my feral gremlins anyway until next time Byeeeee }~•

[wardensantoineandevka]

i haven't watched CR since CR1 - what's the status of the VM crew? Curious but i know in my heart im not watching another campaign to find out

So, I've summarized their epilogues as they play out in the finale of Campaign 3. I've tried to not editorialize and stick to facts, but as always I do recommend people check my work! You can read a transcript of the episode with this link starting at where the VM epilogues start.

Grog is an ambassador to the new Krevirian Republic on Ruidus. He and Gaz Tomo, one of the officials of the Republic and a former revolutionary who fought the prior imperial regime and who is not dissimilar in temperament to Grog, hit it off immediately. Grog has also taken to introducing himself as Grogory.

Scanlan and Cerkonos of the Fire Ashari (who was played by Robbie Daymond during C3) developed a really hilarious but actually fairly touching friendship over Cerkonos's attempts to woo Lieve'tel. Shortly after the events of C3, in the time where Pike has no duties to tend to, he asks her to spend some time adventuring with him again before they both have to hang it up for good. Pike wants to say no, but admits that she still loves him and loves spending time with him. He says they don't have to marry again, but they're probably going to get married again (again). For now, though, no labels. He also casts True Polymorph on her too, so they are both adventuring as centaurs.

Lieve'tel continues to serve as a high warden of the temple at Vasselheim. She is still out there gettin' it.

Percy, feeling that he is getting old, exacerbated by the fact that years have been very difficult and hard and stressful, and that retirement is fast approaching, has decided that he and Vex need to start thinking about preparing their children to take over some of their roles in Whitestone and the world at large. Percy wishes to try to locate the reincarnated gods before anyone, because he is paranoid about trouble starting, but Keyleth convinces him to allow this to be something the generation after him decides how best to approach and worry over. Whitestone is among those places that open themselves to Ruidian refugees, and it benefits from an increase in residuum trade in the aftermath of the shift of magic following the Rite of Catatheosis.

Vex eventually steps away from her duties alongside Percy as he gets older to spend time with him in their several vacation homes across Exandria and their cottage on Ruidus. They are mentioned to own both an Evil Babies painting by Braius and a Lavorre.

Keyleth is among the first, if not the first, to know when a god has been incarnated into the world by communing with the roots of the primordial trees throughout Exandria. She does not tell Percy.

Aside from and probably after her time with Scanlan, Pike for a long time feels a sense of loss and grief without the Everlight's presence and feels uncertain what to do with her life, so she continuously tends to the Everlight's temples until one day, fifteen years later, she receives news that the Everlight has been found.

Vax no longer carries out his duty as the Champion of Ravens alone, but now has a partner in Morrighan, perhaps with others to come in the future. Together, they are expected to eventually find and protect the incarnated Matron of Ravens. Thus, he returns to live in Exandria, with a little more vitality and color in him than before. He returns to Keyleth. She says that she has changed in the years since, and he asks to start over with no expectations. She agrees to another beginning, and they introduce themselves to one another again: "My name's Keyleth, and you're the love of my life." "If you will have me, I am yours, Keyleth of the Air Ashari."

[dollwhite]

Singing death

[not a chapter]

All writing made by me will be under the tag ‘dollings work’

Also I’m thinking about making a side account but I don’t really think I want to because i would like to focus more on this one.

Made by Dolling

“Tim.. this is the second time this month.” You said, you arms folded in front of your chest. Staring instantly at your now broken window. “You’ve got a key for a reason child” you added.

It’s not like you didn’t have the money to fix all of the broken windows,but having to pull excuses out of your ass when the workers ask what happened. Was getting exhausting, you bought an extra key for him and he has his own room in your condo. But he still brokes your windows??

Kids now days.

Ya didn’t mine back then, because it was always fun to get a surprise visit from Tim. But now it’s like he doesn’t know when to go home, don’t get confused you loved Tim like he was your own son. But sometimes he had to remember, you’re not his bio mother. And that you had your own needs, like dating!

Before meeting Tim, you love life was not… not the best. With you being a popular singer, trying to find someone to date. Who wasn’t with you because you were famous and rich was hard, even other rich people wanted to date you because you were the famous ‘s/n’

And when you took a break from singer, you thought.

“oh maybe I’ll have time to date now!”

oh boy how wrong you were, it’s like the first week you took a break Tim showed up. And with him being thrown in your life, you didn’t have time to date.

But today was your date night, it’s the first date you choose to go to in months. But now you have to cancel why? Because your ‘son’ decided instead of going back to the batcave or whatever it was that the farry bat had. He came to your condo, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know what today was, you had told him two weeks ahead.

Just so he know that you wouldn’t be home, so he wouldn’t come with one of his surprise visits. But he came anyway, and he broke your window!

It’s not like you didn’t get him a key to your place the thread week you guys met. Maybe he liked brokering windows? You hoped not…

“Maybe I miss you?” The why Tim said these words, they felt… calculated.like this encounter was all planned out?

“Don’t give me that bullshit, look at my window!” Maybe it was the fact that, you had known Tim for about five months now. That you felt so comfortable scolding him or the fact that you done it so often.

Or the fact that he got himself into trouble a lot.

“I’ll get Bruce to buy you a new one.” Tim murmured as he walked up to you, holding his arms out in expectations for a hug.

“Tim.” You muttered. “You are grounded.”

“Hm- thought you were going to [readers] house?” Jason said, staring at Tim. “She grounded me.”

“S-she [reader] grounded, I’m sorry you? Ain’t you her self proclaimed child?” Dick added. It was after petrol, that they all decided to have a game night hell even Jason was there.

Of course with the exception of Tim as he wanted to give reader a visits and maybe stay the night at their house. It’s like 85 percent of the Tim lived with reader, and that other 15 percent? Oh he spent that time at school.

“And what did you do for her to decide to ground you?” A malicious little voice rung out. It was Damian of course, no one else liked to torture Tim more than him.

Maybe Jason on a bad day but still, it’s like that little demon liked to see to suffer.

“How does she even ground you if you don’t live with her?” Duke asked.placing down a drew four on the coffee table, for Cass.

“Yeh, how does that even work?”

“I’m grounded from her house.” Tim answered, it was a pretty obvious answer to him but maybe some people just don’t get the contacts clues.

“That sucks little guy”

Can u guys tell their playing uno? Also SCHOOL IS CLOSED TOMORROW!! So I might add on to this<333

Anddd do u guys like the name Allure being readers singer name or should I change it?

Also the little special one short I was goin to do…. I don’t think it’s going to be done in time 😭🙏🏽 if y’all have any questions about siren reader don’t be shy ask meee!!

[constantfragmentation]

Agreed.

Do I believe Vander blames himself, that he wronged Silco? Yes, I do. But he really doesn't do much beyond extended a weak olive branch to a trusted friend that he just tried to kill. It wasn't a fight that got out of hand, he tried to kill him.

I don't know about anyone else, but I'm sure as hell not going to seek my attempted murderer out afterwards to 'reconcile'. Yeah, no. Silco isn't going to the their special place in the mines, the Drop or anywhere else in FEAR he may run into his attacker and die the next time.

Let's also not forget, the Felica reason is really stupid. He lost his head? The writing is so weak here. Silco and Vander's break seemed more profound than an accidental death of a mutual friend. People get hurt and die in revolts. They had to know there would be casualties or why bother with revolting against Enforcers, who are heavily armed?

Also, if we use a vague timeline between the Day of Ash, Silco recovering from extensive injuries mentally, emotionally and physically, to the point in Arcane S1E1, WHERE... Vander and Benzo make the comment of 'there are worse things than Enforcers out there" meaning Silco and immediately painting him as the big baddie in the first episode.

So, by the age of the kids supposedly on the Day of Ash and then in Ep1, Vander had YEARS to try and contact Silco. They lived in the Underground, know the same people. There's not exactly an infinite places to stay hidden. Vander and Benzo clearly know Silco is operating in the Undercity.

You can't tell me in all those YEARS, Vander couldn't have made the effort to actually contact Silco and clear shit up. He chose not to and continued painting his 'brother' as a bad guy. For someone who 'never forgave himself', he sure didn't make an effort to find his brother. His effort was the weakest ever.

Even his "I never forgave myself" is hollow. No, buddy, you should have been begging your brother's forgiveness for what you did to him. It's this pathetic attempt of Vander's is what I find insulting. We're supposed to go, "oh look he was sorry , if only Silco KNEW!". But it doesn't address the work needed to regain a person's trust and forgiveness.

Vander didn't put in the effort to deserve Silco's forgiveness. End of story.

The mutliverse episode just felt like a slap in the face in this respect. Silco's personality completely changes which makes ZERO sense. The young Silco and Timeline Silco in S2 don't make any sense compared the characterization of Silco in all of S1.

Young Silco HAD to have traits that build into what makes S1 Older Silco. The drowning isn't going to make those traits magically appear. It was always about the cause. Even if Vander apologized, his handling of the Underground and working with Enforcers is what pits Silco against him. THAT is the betrayal.

I don't think Vander's letter would have done much if we're going off S1 Silco explanation of the drowning and aftermath. Silco tried to see if he could get back the 'old Vander' but also knew it might not happen and had Plan B in the wings.

" I let a weak man die".

Silco decided that the cause was still the most important thing to him and learned not to trust anyone so willingly and blindly.

The Felicia angle is so weak. There is no build-up to this magical trio of friends. Silco doesn't seem to know her kids or vice versa. The kids seems to see Silco as an enemy most likely due to Vander and Benzo.

If Silco was a true friend, why doesn't he know the kids or vice versa? You'd think due to their age prior to the bridge, Silco would be a part of their lives and not just Vander?

S2 was such a disappointing mess. If they really wanted to explore these relationships, then they should have laid some of the groundwork in S1 but didn't. The fact it was dealt with in such a sloppy manner and expected fans to love it? That's what bugs me.

And the blatant character assassination of SO many characters in order to make their plot work.

All of S2 was poorly executed. Period.

y'all. y'all know the letter wasn't the apology right. it was the olive branch. "you know where to find me" was an invitation. he couldn't apologize in a letter. he wanted silco to meet him. yeah it was a shit apology. because it wasn't one. my word.