#I’ve been secretly denying it

[teddy-bear-d]

Also I cave: Grian so is an Etho girl like the rest of us… I mean the guy wouldn’t stop lamenting about how annoying and silly everyone was but the second Etho showed up to the confession booth (same as everyone else) he’s all, ‘oh and Etho was nice and stopped by’

[natsaffection]

This idea just popped into my head😭 What if the team and reader are all in a roadtrip in a van, small van at that. Meaning some of the members had to sit on eachothers laps, leaving reader to sit on G!P Natasha’s. Everyone amongst the team noticed the tension between reader and G!PNatasha that had been brewing.And the car ride just leads to Natasha secretly stuffing her cock into reader, and just letting the bumps of the van help bounce reader on her dick unbeknownst to the team.

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, cock-warming, overstimulating, multiple orgasm

Word Count: 1,4K

A/N: first..HOW do yall have such great ideas?? And second..for my daily education stuff: Do you know, that if you have to be silence, the pleasure and orgasm is more intense?🧍🏻‍♀�� Good night. 🫳🏻🎤

The sun had just started to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the countryside as the Avengers’ van cruised down the open highway. It was a rare occasion for the team to take a break from saving the world and enjoy a road trip together. The van was small, too small for a team of superheroes, but that was part of the charm of the journey. It forced them to get closer, both physically and emotionally.

You found yourself sitting on Natashas lap, a situation that had your heart racing and your cheeks flushing. The van was packed tight, with Tony and Steve up front, Bruce and Clint squeezed into the middle, and Vision and Wanda sharing the backseat with you and Natasha. The closeness was unavoidable, but it was the subtle tension between you and Natasha that had you on edge.

Natasha’s hands rested casually on your hips, but there was nothing casual about the way her fingers would occasionally tighten, sending shivers down your spine. The others seemed oblivious, chatting and laughing about old missions and plans for the weekend. But you could feel the heat of Natasha’s gaze, the way her breath would hitch every time the van hit a bump.

“Comfortable?” Natasha’s voice was low, almost a purr, right next to your ear. You nodded, not trusting your voice. You felt a soft, yet firm pressure as Natasha shifted slightly beneath you, making you hyper-aware of every point of contact between you.

“I think so..” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just relax,” Natasha murmured, her breath hot against your ear. “I’ve got you.”

The van hit another bump, and your breath caught as you felt Natasha’s cock, hard and insistent, pressing against you. You bit your lip, trying to stay composed, but Natasha’s hands held you steady, guiding you just enough to increase the delicious friction.

“Natasha, what are you…?” you began, your voice trailing off as another jolt from the van made you gasp. “Shh,” Natasha whispered, her hands sliding under your shirt to caress your bare skin. “Just go with it.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t deny the thrill of the situation. Natasha’s subtle movements, the way she would flex her hips just so, using the motion of the van to her advantage, was driving you wild. Each bump pushed you down further onto Natasha’s cock, the pleasure building steadily, almost unbearably.

“You’re doing great,” Natasha said softly, her voice a soothing contrast to the intensity of her actions. “Just let the van do the work.” Steve glanced back, a hint of concern in his voice. “You okay back there?”

“Yeah, just fine.” Natasha replied smoothly, her voice betraying none of the heat that was coursing between you. You managed a nod, grateful for Natasha’s calm. “Natasha,” you gasped, struggling to keep your voice low. “S-Someone will notice..”

“No, they won’t,” Natasha reassured you, her lips brushing your ear. “Just trust me. Enjoy it.” You could feel Natasha’s breath against your neck, her lips brushing the sensitive skin there as she whispered, “You’re so tight, I can feel you squeezing me.”

Natasha’s hand slid up your body, slipping under your shirt and cupping your breast. She squeezed, her thumb brushing over your nipple, making you gasp.

With a final, jarring bump, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you, muffled by the sound of the van’s tires on the gravel road. Natasha’s grip tightened, holding you in place as the pleasure finally crested, leaving you shuddering in the redhead’s lap.

But Natasha didn’t stop. She continued to move, her cock buried deep inside you, prolonging your orgasm. “That’s it,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding. “Come for me. Show me how much you love this.”

Your body convulsed with the intensity of your climax, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “N-Natasha, please,” you whimpered, feeling overwhelmed.

“Please what?” Natasha asked, her tone mocking. “You just have to let go.” You tried to shift, to pull away slightly, but Natasha’s strong hands held you in place. “No, you don’t,” Natasha growled softly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Natash- f-fuck..” you moaned, your voice desperate. You glanced around nervously, noticing Wanda’s eyes on you for a brief moment before looking away.

“You better be quiet,” Natasha replied, a cruel smile playing on her lips. She grabbed your wrists, pulling them forward and placing them on the table in front of you. “Keep them there.” she commanded.

And you came. Your body was trembling, the overstimulation making already your head spin. You tried to focus on keeping your hands on the table, your knuckles white from gripping the edge. Steve glanced back again, his eyes narrowing in concern. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

Natasha seized the opportunity, wrapping her arms around you in a mock embrace. “She’s fine, Steve. Just a little tired, right?” Natasha said, her voice sweet yet deceptive. She leaned in closer to you, whispering in your ear, “Don’t move.”

In that moment, Natasha thrust her hips forward sharply, pushing her cock deeper into you. Your eyes widened, your breath hitching as you struggled to maintain your composure. Natasha’s arms tightened around you, ostensibly in a comforting hug, but in reality, it was to hold you steady. “Y-Yes!” you managed to say, your voice shaky. “Long d-day..”

Steve nodded slowly, his concern easing. “Alright, just let us know if you need anything.” Natasha smirked, her lips brushing your ear. “See? No one suspects a thing,” she whispered. “Now, focus on me.”

You tried to focus on keeping your hands on the table, your knuckles white from gripping the edge. “You’re doing so well,” Natasha praised, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Taking me so perfectly.”

The van hit another bump, and this time, Natasha’s breath caught sharply. Her fingers dug into your hips as she felt a wave of pleasure surge through her. “Fuck,” she hissed, her voice strained. “I’m close.”

The realization that Natasha was as affected as you were sent a new thrill through your body. Natasha’s hips snapped up, thrusting deep into you, and you felt another wave of pleasure crashing over you. “Again,” Natasha demanded, her grip on your hips bruising. “I want you to come again.”

“I can’t,” you whimpered, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the intensity. “Yes, you can,” Natasha insisted, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to come again, and you’re going to do it for me.”

Your body obeyed, your second orgasm hitting you even harder than the first. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, your body shaking with the force of your climax. Natasha held you through it, her own breath coming in heavy pants.

As the van continued its journey, you slumped back against Natasha, your body spent and trembling. Natasha’s cock was still buried deep inside you, keeping you filled and connected. Natasha’s hand caressed your cheek, her voice softening. “Good girl,” she murmured. “You did so well.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You turned your head slightly, meeting Natasha’s eyes. “You planned this, didn’t you?” you whispered, a mix of accusation and admiration in your tone. Natasha’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Maybe,” she replied, her voice low and teasing. “Did you like it?”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Yes,” you admitted, your voice soft. “I did.” Natasha’s hand slid down to squeeze your thigh gently. “Good,” she said. “Because we still have 4 hours ahead of us.”

[reidswrld]

me & you together song.

❛ i’ve been in love with her for ages, and i can’t seem to get it right. ❜

spencer reid x reader.

summary: you’ve always assumed spencer reid’s love language was acts of service. flowers left at your desk. notes written only to you. every tuesday, he gave you your favorite bagel from downtown. you knew he was like this with the rest of the team, too. you didn’t sweat it. you were focused on your job, and your job only. but when multiple instances occur over the course of a case, it’s hard to ignore both of your feelings for each other.���

tags: grumpy fem!character x sunshine!spencer reid, friends to lovers, everyone knows but them, the bau literally bets when they’ll get together, no use of y/n, afab character, found family if you squint hard enough, spencer’s obsessed with her but won’t admit it to the public (the public is morgan), based on me & you together song by the 1975 btw, i wrote this while eating a doritos loco taco

word count: 2k

notes: i asked my best friends to give me a character and a trope. happy first post!

When you first landed the job as an agent at the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, you first told yourself not to get too attached. This was a job, after all. A career. A high risk one, that could end in fatalities and wounds that might never heal, cuts that will always bleed for the rest of eternity. Once you made it clear to yourself that you were to be civil with your coworkers —close enough to be friendly, but not enough to go out for drinks on Saturday nights— and most important of all, do your job, and do it damn well, you poured yourself a glass of wine and watched the rest of the season of the sitcom you’ve been meaning to finish.

However, with all of the ups and downs your job gave you, it could not have allowed for you to expect the boisterous chaos that were your coworkers. They welcomed you in not only with open arms, but open minds. They respected your boundaries, your ideas, everything about you. Your attempt at remaining just civil became useless after months, but looking back, how could you have tried any longer? Penelope gave you a big kiss on the cheek every week, exclaiming that she loved your outfits and needed to go shopping with you right that minute. Morgan ruffled your hair whenever he brought you coffee (despite your incessant dismay that now you needed to brush it again). Hotch, though not a fan of public displays, would murmur a reassuring, you’re doing well every time he returned a file back to you. And then there was Reid.

Spencer Reid.

Well, what was there to say about him?

Over time, you’ve assumed that his love language must be acts of service. He brought you a bagel every week, sometimes more, from your favorite bagel shop downtown. Every Tuesday, a poppy seed bagel with extra plain cream cheese, extra toasted, cut in half so you could eat the middle dollop of cream cheese first. He made you mugs of tea whenever it grew past five pm because you told him that you had trouble falling asleep once months ago. Sometimes, small bouquets of wild grown flowers were left on your desk. At first, you thought it was Penelope being extra kind to you, or even Morgan playing a small joke on you. Both denied, but still giggled as you walked away. Whatever that meant. Behind your back, they secretly slipped each other five dollar bills.

You were sure he did the same for the rest of his coworkers, too. You’ve seen him refill coffee pots whenever Emily mentioned starting a new brew, and work extra hard on his reports in his free time to make sure Hotch or JJ didn’t stay too late. You were on the same page, anyway. Friends. Civil. It didn’t matter.

You huffed as you walked into the BAU, which was deemed more of a half jog, half marathon sprint. You hadn’t bothered to check the weather before leaving, and on the walk from the subway station to the office, it had started downpouring. The sudden drops of cold from the sky had caused you to drop your half empty cup of coffee, and you had forgotten to grab the breakfast you made yourself the night before in the fridge. Not even Harry Styles’ album blaring in your ears could have stopped you from turning the morning around. You grumbled simple good morning’s to everyone as you shook off your coat. Expecting to see your desk surrounded with papers that you were too tired to file in their intended drawers yesterday, you instead found a clean one; the papers were stashed in their designated places (in alphabetical order), the pens were compiled in the pouch you bought at Daiso years ago and cherished, even the trash under your desk was taken out. The only thing left to be seen on the wooden desk was a small brown bag that smelled of heaven and happiness and a folded piece of paper. You reached inside to find your usual poppy seed bagel the same as it always was. To make your Tuesday better. For you, always, the note read. You didn’t need to decipher whose scribbles those belonged to. You forgot it was Tuesday.

“Where’s my bagel, lover boy?” Morgan’s voice boomed as the man sat on top of your desk, snatching the bag with a grin. Spencer only swiftly passed by the desk with ease, choosing to make eye contact with the carpet.

“Good morning, Dr. Reid. Happy Tuesday.” Spencer’s eyes divert to yours quickly. He only nods, responding with the same greeting. Happy Tuesday, honey.

Morgan’s laugh carried throughout the room, swinging his legs as he spoke. “You two make me sick, that’s for sure. Can I have some of your bagel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You furrowed your brow in annoyance, which only made Morgan smile widely.

“Do you need to get your glasses checked again? You know, there’s an optometrist across the street—”

As you started to speak, Hotch walked from his office, announcing a new case and to meet in the room immediately. You got up swiftly, grabbing your bagel from Morgan’s hands with a muttered asshole falling from your lips. It only made Morgan cackle loudly. You remind yourself to write a psych evaluation on Morgan after the case is over with.

On the first day of the case, you realized it was going to be a more difficult one than usual. You didn’t panic. You never do. The second day, you worked harder than ever only to see little to no result. You continued not to sleep. It was like clockwork. Work, coffee, repeat. After three days, the case was far from settled. In fact, it seemed to only be getting worse with no ending in sight. Everyone was continuing to work in hopes that they would be home for the weekend. The fourth day, though, seemed to be the worst. The killer was getting more spontaneous with their kills, and the team seemed to keep showing up minutes after the kill had occurred. You were running on little to no sleep and were getting more frustrated with each move the killer made in silence. Near the end of the day, as you stared aimlessly at the wall in front of you, hoping it would make some sort of answer appear in front of your eyes, Hotch put a hand on your shoulder, You jumped slightly, trance be gone, when he told you to get back to the hotel immediately.

Immediately, you persisted. “I’m fine. I’ve almost got something. I’m sure of something.”

“I’m not asking you.”

“Hotch—”

“I’m ordering you, not only as your boss, but mostly as your friend. Your dark circles are getting concerning.” You tried to budge once more, but as Hotch gave one of his stern glares, you knew you were done with work for the day. “I’ll get someone to drive you back. Wait here.”

Within seconds, Spencer appeared, replacing the previous figure of Hotch. Gently tapping your shoulder, he signaled for you to get up. With a flick of a wrist and a soft grin, he spun around a set of keys around his fingers. “Hotch is letting me drive.”

You smiled. “Don’t want Morgan to ‘vibe it?’”

“His definition of ‘vibing it’ is just turning on the sirens when he doesn’t want to stop at a red light.” You walked side by side to the car. Your shoulders brushed ever so slightly due to Spencer’s hands in his pockets, but you didn’t mind. You welcomed the warmth.

“Your definition is turning the volume up to 13 and calling it loud.”

“I would like to be able to hear when I’m old, thank you very much. Any decibel over eighty and poof. Hearing. Out the window.”

“I really don’t think playing Queen at any volume above 13 will kill you, Spence.”

“You never know, honey.” Spencer opened the door for you, ushering you in before closing the door and getting in on the driver’s side. He pulled a cassette tape from his bag and pushed it in the radio; it started to softly play Queen while Spencer messed with the volume, setting it at 13 before driving away. It made a soft smile appear on your lips as your head leaned against the cool glass. Between the constant, soothing movement of the car or the way Spencer’s lips mouthed the lyrics of Good Old Fashioned Boy, it was hard to tell when the lines blurred and sleep drifted you away. The only thing you recognized before falling asleep were the unmistakable words that left Spencer’s mouth.

“Good night, honey. Love you.”

You woke up with a start the next morning. You had no idea how you got back into your hotel room, or how you were wearing your favorite sports shirt that you find comfort in sleeping in all of these years, though your mind directed each question back to the same person, of course. Your mind wandered to the night before; it was the most relaxed you had been all week, even if it was just the simple act of driving with Spencer. You had done it before in past cases —even driven him back to his hotel at times— but this time felt different. Maybe it was the words that left his mouth.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” Spencer suddenly walked in, holding bags in his arms. He set them down on the table, pulling out various assortments of breakfast foods and handing them to you. “No bagel shops around here, but I did find some good pancakes if you want to eat now.”

“Spence.” You suddenly sat up straight, as if a revelation hit you.

“What? No pancakes? It came with hashbrowns, too.”

“Spencer.” You emphasized, getting him to look at you.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you do all of this for me?”

“What?” His head cocked to the side, not understanding.

“Why do you… I mean… you go out of your way to do things for me. Unnecessary things. I need to know why.”

“Unnecessary…?”

“You… you leave me flowers that are like, hand picked from a garden or the forest, or something not from the city. You clean my desk for me when I’ve left it too messy. You make me my favorite tea when I’m at the office too late. You write me notes that are alluding but you won’t say what. I mean, Spence, you get me my favorite bagel every Tuesday. Why?”

His face suddenly turned serious as he sat next to you on the bed. “You want to know why?” He repeated.

“I know you do these things for the rest of our team, but I just, I just don’t get it.”

“Because I’m in love with you.” Spencer stared at you. “I’ve been in love with you. I think I’ll always be at least a little in love with you, if I’m being honest. I thought you’d catch on by now.”

“…What?”

“Yeah, honey. I thought I was pretty obvious.”

“So you meant what you said last night, then?” You said softly.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Really. I would’ve said it better if I had known you were awake.”

“But I did.” Your face grew closer to his. “And I’m not upset about it. Because I’m in love with you, too.”

Just as your lips began to brush, Spencer began to smile. “You know what day it is, honey? It’s our day.”

You smiled, too. “Happy Tuesday.”

You both tried to be subtle about it for the rest of the case. Weeks had passed by without the team knowing, but one slip up of a kiss on the cheek from Spencer on a Tuesday morning had led to an entire office full of chaos (and a meeting on workplace romance and consent from Hotch). You two didn’t mind, though. It was bound to happen. Until Penelope turned to Morgan and yelled at him to cough up the fifty dollars he owed her, of course.

Happy Tuesday.

[vaquerolvr]

Hi!!! I loved ur thing with Soap as ur boyfriend texts and was wondering if you could do it with Ghost too ❤️❤️❤️

and her lips are like the galaxy’s edge

synopsis: texts with ghost as your bf

headcanons at the bottom

cw: kinda slut-shaming?? british food

an: i am finally back and have my laptop back!! here’s the ghost version that i’ve been promising for forever lol. title is from arabella - arctic monkeys.

masterlist

⊹ takes forever to respond to messages

he goes hours without looking at his phone. everyone knows to call him if it’s urgent because otherwise he WILL just ignore it.

⊹ likes relaxing in weird places

you’ve found him taking a nap in the bathtub before. would cram himself into a cabinet if he could.

⊹ is the dad that acts like he hates pets but secretly loves them

refuses to call any pets by their names, only referring to them as “fatass,” stinky,” or his favorite: “freeloader.” you’ll catch him cuddling them on occasion. he denies it even if you have photo evidence.

⊹ “he’s cat-coded” “he’s dog-coded” you are all wrong!! he’s a lizard

runs cold, always has the heat on even in the middle of summer. you can’t even sneakily turn it down, he materializes behind you. it’s like he has a sixth sense for when you’re near the thermometer. habitual blanket stealer at night, you’ll wake up trembling and look over to find him peacefully sleeping in his pile of stolen blankets.

⊹ hates getting sick

kind of a germaphobe. will put on a literal hazmat suit to tend to you when you get sick. acts like a medieval peasant dying from the plague whenever he gets sick.

⊹ that stereotype about british people having awful food? it’s him

while soap is the type to burn the kitchen down while cooking, simon is the type who creates a chemical weapon on accident. doesn’t know how to use spices or seasoning, everything he makes is either way too salty or tastes like cardboard.

⊹ big football fan, he’s surprisingly into it

unfortunately he’s a manchester united fan. likes spending weekend mornings relaxing while watching a match with you. it lasts all of five minutes before he gets annoyed and starts ranting about how shit all the players are. gets into hours-long arguments with soap over it (soap isn’t even into football he just likes pissing simon off)

⊹ gets so jealous over fictional crushes (ironically)

will sulk and give you the silent treatment whenever you call an actor hot while watching a movie with him. if you have any figurines of your faves, you’ll often catch him glaring at them as if they’ve personally wronged him.

⊹ this man is a VIRGIN!!!!

you’re literally the first person he’s ever dated and probably the only person he’s ever kissed (unless you count that one time he got drunk with soap-) also he’s fully lying, he keeps track of the exact number of people he’s killed.

dividers from @/saradika-graphics :)

[jjsloverre]

bed- j.m

bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader

in which… jj takes sweethearts virginity and finally gives her the love nobody else could— or she wouldn’t allow anyone else to give her.

warnings: cursing, smut, p in v (wrap it up) oral (female!receiving) praise kink, size kink, aftercare all that stuff!

________________________________________

you didn’t know how you two got to this conversation. jj was talking about his horrible sex life. “this shit sucks baby, i just want some good pussy!” he complained he secretly wish he’d have yours and yours only. but he knew it would only be a fantasy.

“maybe you should fuck every girl you lay your eyes on jj. anyway this dude wanted to have sex with me and he was being a total creep about it, like why does everyone wanna take a girls virginity and abandon them? some crazy shit i tell you!”

“y’know i wouldn’t abandon you?” jj said softly. you scoffed, knowing your best friend was a total fuck boy and you didn’t believe him one bit. “you know i love you? i love you tons but you are the type of boy to hit and dip and you know it.”

“you’re different mama, i promise that..” he massaged your thighs, something that wasn’t out of the ordinary, jj was a touchy guy, nobody could deny that. “i’d cater to you. you’re not some fuck toy to me.” you looked at him weirdly. “so every other girl is?”

he laughed, realizing you were right. he loved when you put him in his place, it always secretly turned him on. “no baby, that’s just a one night stand.”

“exactly what i mean jj! no man is about to make me a one night stand and potentially a baby mama!”

“fair enough sweetheart, cmon lemme show you how much i’d cater to you.” you shake your head no. “i don’t believe you, and you’re not gonna do me like you do all those other girls!”

“let’s make a deal.”

“what’s the deal?” you ask.

“i make love to you— not fuck you, love making and i make you feel things you’ve never felt before. if i prove you wrong, you make me my favorite meal.”

“and if you prove me wrong?” he held his hand out. “i’ll come over everyday and do your chores. sound like a deal?”

“fine, deal.”

“fuck yeah! alright lay down!”

“you’re getting too excited maybank, i am not the first girl you’ve done this with. and you better not have any diseases!”

“i wear a condom princess, i don’t catch anything or get anybody pregnant. do you want me to grab a condom from john b’s house real quick? i’ll be fast so you don’t have to wait and shit—“ you quickly cut him off so he could shut up.

“hush jj and let’s just— get this over with..” he quickly gets on top of you, kissing your neck teasingly. “don’t be nervous, it’s just me, just like it’s always been…” he speaks as he takes your clothes off, his eyes focused on your glistening pussy.

“are you nervous cause you’re fuckin’ drippin for me?” he slips one finger in, feeling your walls clench around his finger. “fuck you’re tight.. my dick is gonna love this…”

you whimper at the feeling, jj quickly pulls his fingers out when he realizes your tears. “baby it’s okay, did that hurt?” you shook your head no and wipe your tears. “it felt good jayj, it was just.. a lot at first.” he nodded. “alright so, first i’m just gonna eat your pussy how does that sound? you’ve gotten eaten out before right?” you smile. “by you jj.”

he couldn’t believe he almost forgot, you guys did exchange giving head a few months ago for the first time experience. “yeah so, it’ll be good i promise. ok! lay down, relax, and i’ll enjoy my snack!”

you smile at his enthusiasm, the boy that was about to be tongue deep inside you; you’re best friend was rhyming about eating your pussy. while you were thinking about something completely different you feel jjs tongue go straight to your clit. licking and sucking— devouring you like you were his last meal.

“i’ve always wanted to do this again, fuck you with my tongue in you’re bed, watching you squirm.. fuck you’re so sexy..” he went tongue deep inside you, licking inside you until you were at your peak. you quickly came undone.

“jeez jj, you don’t play do you?” you wipe some of his face with a towel, while he licks the rest of your essence up. “you taste phenomenal baby, couldn’t get enough.”he pulls his shorts down, revealing his long thick cock, precum leaking from the tip. “you see what you do to me beautiful?”

you nod. “jj that’s too big- that’s not gonna fit inside me! there’s no way that’s going inside me!” he let you babble on until you stopped. “it’ll fit princess, cmon lemme show you.” you shook your head no immediately.

“jj i’m serious! that shits gonna hurt!” he shook his head right back. “it’ll sting a lil bit but it’ll feel good scouts honor!”

“you’re so unserious jj.” he spreads your legs and pushes his tip inside of you, you didn’t even notice since you were talking so much. you realized he had you talk so you wouldn’t feel the pain, and he was already balls deep inside you. “h-how did you do that?”

“you’re wet princess, so it just slipped in… feel good? let me know when you’re ready for me to move.” you nod, waiting a few minutes before you tapped his abs. “yes ma’am?” he asks. “w-want you to move now..” he nods, moving slowly but extremely deep. “fuck you’re tight.. not gonna last long in this pussy, fuckkkk princess!”

he starts to speed up, hearing the wet slapping noises turned him on even more, he leaned down to kiss your beautiful lips. “you’re so beautiful while you’re getting fucked, you’re beautiful all the time but like this? shitttt, imagine how beautiful youd be cumming from my dick.” he rubs right circles on your clit until the band in your stomach snaps.

“jj i’m gonna cum!” he looks down at your clit, then your stomach. and he sees a visible bulge. “fuck baby, you feel that? that’s all me, all me deep inside your pussy… fuck look how big that bulge is!”

the stomach bulge was both of your breaking points, you came hard on his dick and jj’s dick buried to the hilt and spurted all his cum deep inside you. “fuck baby.. you was grippin me so tight..”

you nod, feeling utterly fucked out “i guess i owe you food then?” he chuckled. “only if you wanna make me some food, you don’t gotta do nothin for me. i’d love some pasta though, when you’re legs feel better.” he smirked.

“okay, don’t we have to pee or something? i don’t want anything happening to me jj!” he got up, putting you on his shoulders. i know princess, we’re gonna go pee now.”

“how about we order some food instead? i’m too tired to cook.” he sets you down on the toilet for you to pee. “sure. as long as i still get my pasta sometime this week.”

________________________________________

a/n: this is pretty long but hey! hope u like it!

taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @sophand4n4 @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen

more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here

[birdyshewrote]

“Birthday Girl”

Wolverine x Female!Reader

written by birdy

Wade Wilson throws you a rink-a-dink birthday party every year, and this year is no exception. But this time, you have a new guest.. and he’s been watching you for a while.

Notes- hi. ive never written a fic before EVER, so pls be nice. this is mainly for me to be able to get my thoughts out of my head because I’ve been thinking about this man for way too long. happy birthday bitches 🫶

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut- 18+ Logan Howlett x Female!Reader, Logan calls reader “Kid”, light smoking and alcohol consumption, Wade being a menace

——————————————————————————

You had caught glances of him a few times in the hall. The scent of smoke, leather and alcohol that belonged to only him drifted in the air behind him for a few seconds even after he had walked into the apartment room across from yours. There had been a few times where you stepped into the elevator and musky cigar smoke had filled the small space. You didn’t complain though, secretly savoring the intoxicating smell, taking more, quicker breaths than you needed too. You couldn’t deny the knot it put in your stomach and the weakness it put in your legs before stepping out of the elevator, down the hall and into your own room.

Eventually, you were tired of the mystery. Two weeks into the seemingly one sided tension, you trapped your long time friend and even longer time across-the-hall neighbor, Wade Wilson, into the elevator with you. Ever since the stranger had moved in with Wade, he had stopped inviting you over. Your birthday was coming up, and so was your annual not-so-surprised birthday party. Once the elevator doors closed, you started,

“Hey, who’s your new roomie?”

Wade scoffed, putting a hand across his heart on his chest, the other gripping a full black trash bag that smelt of blood and for some reason bubblegum scented air fresheners. “THATS how I am greeted nowadays? No, ‘Hello Wade’, ‘Looking good Wade’, ‘Here’s that five bucks I owe you Wade,’

You roll your eyes, putting a hand on your hip stepping away from him. “Okay, first of all, I do not owe you five bucks. You OFFERED to pay for the funeral arrangements after you killed my fish-“

“He looked hungry, who knew fish could be over fed?” He interrupted.

“I told you before I left!” You argue back. “I was only gone two days and you-“ You rub your forehead and shake your head, frustrated. “Whatever. Not relevant. Hello Wade, you do look good.” You say, defeated.

Wade giggly adjusted his weight to his heels, to his tippy-toes, then back to his heels again “Thank you.” He said, satisfied, and turned back to the doors.

“You didn’t answer my question. Your roommate? Who is he?” You ask again as the elevator dings and the doors creakily open.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you sideways as the two of you walked down the small lobby. “Uhm, news flash doll face, Blind Al is not new. She’s an OG. Been here a while, silly.”

“Not Al.” Talking to Wade was like trying to a horse with dementia. “You know, ‘Mr Tall and Handsome,’ always sulking, ‘I don’t care about no smoking rules.”

Wade throws his head back, “Ooohhhh, you mean Peanut. What about him?”

“No introduction?” You ask confused, watching Wade as he carried his trash down the hall, holding the entrance door open for you.

“Well, I don’t know. I guess Iuh… I forgot.” He stuttered as he led you down the wet alleyway, towards the dumpsters.

“Last month you called me into your room to show me your new toothbrush. You have a new roommate and you just, ‘forget’ to introduce us?”

Wade shrugs, shifting the thin, plastic bag straps in his hand uncomfortably as he walked.

The truth was, Wade did not forget. The truth was, in fact, that one of the first things Wade had done was mention your existence to Logan before he was even fully settled in the apartment.

“I think you two would hit it off, hardcore. And I mean, HARD.” Wade had said.

“Absolutely not.” Logan grumbled, immediately shutting him down, not even looking up from the blow-up mattress he was unrolling in the living room.

Wade sat on the couch arm rest, looking down at the burly man. “Come on Wolvie, let a girl heal your cold, withered heart. You’re a tough, ‘don’t get too close’ typa guy, she’s an ‘I can fix him’ type of girl, I personally think it’s a perfect match.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m telling you to drop it.” He snapped, glaring up at Wade. “I don’t need you playing Cupid here, you hear me? I swear to God, if I hear you that you’ve even said my name to anyone I’ll get the fuck out of here and never look back. I don’t need to be getting mixed up in any of that shit right now.”

Maybe years ago Logan would have been a flirt, he wasn’t new to women or relationships, but he had been through too much. He had lost too much. He’d never admit it, but the truth was, the infamous Wolverine was scared. Scared of intimacy, scared of getting attached, scared of loss, scared of you. Still, this didn’t change the fact that he had been secretly watching you leave your apartment through the safety of the peephole of his own door. And yeah, maybe if you weren’t so loud coming out of your apartment he wouldn’t know your schedule within a week. Like what time you wake up to leave for work or school, or what time you come home. What days you take your trash out or do your laundry. And when he found one of your sweaters lying around the apartment when he first moved in, what should he have done with it? He was holding onto it for safe keeping. And yeah, he knew it was yours, but only because your sugary perfume clouded his nostrils and made his head feel fuzzy. It was so recognizable, he knew immediately the sweater was yours. Maybe if you wouldn’t drown yourself in the body mist he wouldn’t instinctively know when you were just in the hall, he told himself. It wasn’t his fault he had animalistic smelling.

He couldn’t, however, find an excuse for how he’d hesitate in front of his door, watching for the elevator to stop at your shared floor, wait for the doors to open and inhale the scent of your panties from down the hall once you saw him, then he’d unlock his door and rush in quickly. Sometimes if he was unlucky he’d steal a glance of your full body out of the corner of his eye.

None of this meant anything though. He could contain the animalistic urges he had towards you. Especially when he caught a glimpse of your thigh when you knelt to pick up a dropped grocery. He could handle himself when he heard your thick, sweet laugh through walls when watching a show or movie. But at the same time, what harm would it cause if he touched himself while inhaling the scent of your hair, sweat and perfume through your abandoned sweater late at night? And keeping it locked away in a locked dresser wasn’t creepy, it was just there until you asked Wade to look around for it.

He could handle himself from a distance. He knew this. He knew his limits.

He had been woken up from the couch after a long afternoon of drinking and despair by a loud “SURPRISE!” followed by laughter and clapping. He did not know there was a party going on, let alone a party for you. He was completely blindsided when you were standing within ten feet of him, in his living area, talking to Al and Wade and the others, laughing that sweet laugh

Shit..

Where could he escape? The front door was no longer an option, everyone was clustered in front. Maybe he could make a run for it through the bedroom and out the window? Or maybe take his chances down the escape ladder through the-

“Sleeping beauty has awaken!”

Shit.

Before you could blink, Wade was pulling you through the small cluster of friends to the couch, where a very confused, very hung over, very huge piece of man stood like a deer in headlights. This was your first time seeing him up close, and shit was he alluring. His hair was untamed and messy from his interrupted sleep, his thick brows furrowed. Frown lines prominent as his large muscles twitched under his shirt-

“Hey, his eyes are up there you horn dog.” Wade publicly snapped you back into reality. Immediately flustered, you began trying to save the situation that was doomed from the start.

“I wasn’t looking at- I wasn’t even doing anything, Wade!”

“It’s okay, I know you weren’t. He’s just a moron.” He put an understanding hand up as he spoke. Fuck his voice was so deep and low, almost a growl. It felt rich and threw shivers straight to the back of your throat and straight into the dark jeans you wore. You swallowed. Hard.

After an awkward greeting, Wade had basically pushed a drink into both of your hands and left you to fend for yourself. Logan took a seat on the couch, the worn furniture dipping under his weight. He was clearly uncomfortable. He kept his eyes low, rarely meeting yours. He threw his arm over the head of the couch, spreading his knees. He pulled out a cigar and gestured to it. You couldn’t tell if he was offering you one or asking if you’d mind if he smoked, you shook your head no to both. You politely sat next to him, pulling your legs under yourself next to him.

Unfortunately, this man was not the easiest to speak to.

“So, Logan. You’re new.” You fidget with the cup in your hands.

He lets out a low “Mhm” while taking a puff, then lets smoke pool out of his mouth and drizzle out of his nose, before speaking again. “Yeah. Don’t really know how I ended up here. Just, kind of did.”

You nod, looking around the room. 2016-2018 pop hits played on the pink Hello-Kitty speaker Wade had bought for himself, now sitting on the kitchen table next to the drinks. Various characters lounged around the apartment chatting and eating pizza and drinking.

“Seen you around, y’know.”

You turn to face him again.

“Oh?” You ask, sipping your drink.

He nods in return. “If you need help bringing groceries up to your room or somethin’, you can just let me know. Heard you drop a few things before.” His top lip twitches just the slightest in what you assume is his version of a smile. He puts the cigar back into his mouth and chews.

You furrow your brows at the sarcastic banter. “Oh yeah? Didn’t know I had a stalker.” You bite back, smiling while doing so.

“Not stalking you, kid. Just minding my own business and getting interrupted every two seconds by my noisy neighbor.”

After this, the two of you spoke more fluid. Relating in Wade’s schemes and circumstances became a common interest. You felt yourself becoming more and more comfortable with the man’s presence. After your second drink, your leg rested against the rough denim of his thick thigh. He said nothing about it, so you continued to speak to him. You were unaware of what he was thinking or feeling.

He was freaking the fuck out. Especially when you asked him to go outside with him to get some air. He agreed, and the two of you slipped out of your own party. The night was dark as you walked through the city-lit pathway to the side of the building. Logan watches you and takes another puff of his cigar as you stretch in the open air. You sigh, relieved to be out of the stuffy room.

You could feel his eyes on you. The heat and heaviness of his lingering eyesight, watching your every move as if you were his prey. It made you nervous. It made you intrigued. You wanted to be in his sight, and he wanted to keep watching you.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much, shit’s awful for you you know.” You say, leaning on the brick building next to the tall, muscular figure.

He gives you a slow, sharp smirk in return, his canines showing through resting on the cigar.

Your heart begins to thump and he looks deep into your eyes, like he sees through you.

You let out a shaky exhale as your smile fades and take a step closer to him. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and looks down at you, shaking his head.

“You don’t want this, kid.”

You pause, trying to read his face in the dim lighting. “I do, and I think you do too.” You speak low and soft, like if you’re too sudden with your movements he’ll get startled and dash away. You slowly raise a hand and rest it on his hard, warm chest. You feel it rise and lower, he’s heaving now.

You bring your face up, closer to his. He doesn’t move, so you whisper into his own lips, “Logan, it’s okay.”

The light encouragement is what he needed. He looks down at your parted lips, pushes the lit cigar into the brick wall next to you, putting it out and dropping it, before muttering back,

“Well, you are the birthday girl.”

He leans down to give you what you’ve been asking him for, and what he’s been yearning for. He kisses you, slow and respectful at first, stepping in front of you. He puts his large, rough hand in between your head and the jagged building, protecting you as he pushes you against the wall. You bring a soft hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down farther into your space. He tastes like alcohol and smoke, and you couldn’t get enough. The kiss gets sloppier as you welcome his tongue into your mouth. You look at his face through squinted eyes, only to see his brows furrowed in deep concentration and self-discipline as to not overstep. You shut your eyes again as you grab his other hand, dragging it to your waist. He lets out a soft, low groan in response to the contact of your skin. Your waist feels so soft and warm is his heavy grip. He softly paws at your side, then up your loose shirt. He pauses underneath your bra, and you arch your back in response.

He breaks away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you momentarily before breaking. “This okay? You’re sure? I can touch you like this?” He’s almost pleading, even with all of the consent in your body. He looks down at you, eyes half lidded.

“Yes, Logan. Stop asking me.”

He nods, smiling slightly, and slowly shifts his long, thick fingers underneath the garment, and towards your chest. He brings his mouth to yours again, greedily taking and lapping at your mouth. The scent of your arousal intoxicates to him. You clench your legs together, to which Logan uses his thick, sturdy knee to break you open and apart. You feel exposed to him now, resting on his knee. The rough denim rubbing sends jolts to your throbbing core. The kissing is wet, his stubble rubs against your lips as he gently bites your tongue with his canines. His hand gently gropes your breast, while pushing his knee against your dampening soft area. He brings his calloused hand down back to your waist, slowly guiding your hips to rock against his knee. He uses his other hand against your head to gently grip your hair and push your head closer against his mouth.

Logan didn’t get you a birthday present, but he was definitely making up for it.

[tbaluver]

Hi! I’ve been really enjoying your lads hcs, and I want to request where reader is an idol. Thank you and have a good day!

When You're An Idol- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi anonnie ! i'm happy to hear you're enjoying my works i hope this was okay ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ fun fact i used to be like a big kpop stan in like high school but now i just enjoy their music anyways okane kasegu watashi wa suta any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Oh he's your biggest fan.

He'll have all your albums and photocards. He'll even have plushies and keychains of your character that you made for a collaboration event. He'll even have that keychain on his sword.

If you were in a group, he doesn't really recognize the other members there because to him you are the face of the group. You're the main visuals, dancer, vocalists, and rapper. His eyes are always placed on you.

He streams all your shows, music videos, fan cams, music, any minute and second he can. Any concept you had was his favorite concepts. He secretly saves some fan edits of you.

He in fact does get jealous when there's rumors about you having a dating rumor with another idol. You'll reassure him and you'll immediately deny the rumors are false to the public. They probably just caught you and Xavier on a date and assumed it was a different idol.

He's also very protective of you in public. He's basically like your bodyguard. He'll lead you away from any fans and paparazzi's when you both just want some alone time.

Zayne:

Just because you're an idol does not mean he's not your doctor. He STILL is and he insisted that it's beneficial for you that he's your doctor. And who are you to complain? With both your busy schedules, you two can catch up for a bit when you have a checkup. He will still scold you if you're neglecting your health and will tell your managers that it's doctors orders to not put you on a harsh diet or practice.

Y'know how surgeons listen to music while performing a surgery? Well he listens to your entire discography on LOOP while he performs a cardiac surgery. It helps him focus and you get more streams ! No one is allowed to change the music or complain. His colleagues would not have expected him to like your music so they just assume it's because your his patient and that's why he listens to your music.

Nobody knows that you two are dating so you keep your relationship private so no one can disturb your personal lives. He also just doesn't want to be in the spotlight in general.

He'll support you in any way he can. He's not really the type to go to concerts but for you he will. He'll even have his light stick and memorize the fan chants to your songs. If he can't attend your concerts because of work then he'll make sure to stream the live version ones.

He would also send you texts before you have any performances or interviews. He'll make sure to watch on his breaks to support you and will send you a text afterwards, saying how you did so well and he's proud of you.

He's probably also the type to send you flowers or have food delivered to you whenever you're working. It's to keep your relationship private but also a way to show that he loves and supports you.

Rafayel:

His artwork would make frequent features in your music videos which speculates some rumors about you two dating. And you two would make it so OBVIOUS. On both of your social medias, you two would post the same location at the same time. If you two posted a selfie, fans would see you two have matching jewelry or detect you wearing his clothes. He'll 'accidentally' take pictures of your merch in the background of his pics. Rafayel doesn't care if fans found out, I mean it's about time.

He would have a field day with your stylist if they dared to give you the worst outfit, makeup, hair color or style. He would want that stylist to be fired immediately and he'll style you himself.

He'd be so excited when you'd invite him to an event. You two would have matching outfits and you two would be the cutest and prettiest couple there. He's already used to the cameras, interviews, and the people there. It's like him going on an exhibition tour but this time it's more fun because he's with you by his side.

You two would have a lot of photoshoots together. But he just loves to be your personal photographer. He'll make sure to make his own photocard of himself so you can have it on the back of your phone case like how he has a photocard of you on his phone case.

Any of your shows that you have, he'll attend. He'll make sure to be front row and center so when you see him in the crowd, you can blow him a kiss.

Sylus:

Fans and paparazzi's would be so worried when they found out you were caught entering the N109 Zone. They thought you were getting kidnapped and they just thought the area was too dangerous for their beloved idol. You had to post on social media that you were okay so you and Sylus had to find a better way to meet up.

He would sing your songs in the karaoke room with Luke and Kieran. When you're there, you'll have a duo song or it'll get really competitive.

He also knows how to play the organ so if somehow you needed that instrumental you let him feature in it privately.

Sylus would buy a concert VIP room so he doesn't risk getting caught at your concert. He'll even bring Luke and Kieran because they're your second biggest fans there. He'll tell you which area he is in the concert venue and you'll make sure to look in that direction to acknowledge and appreciate that he's always there to try and support you. He would also have a massive smile on his face when you're performing. He loves to watch you perform and doing something you love.

You two are always facetiming whenever either of you are away. You both miss each others company a lot and can't go by a day without communicating even if it's just a small update.

If any fans tried to stalk you or make you uncomfortable just let him know and he'll take care of it himself.

[z4rph1m]

Platonic Yan!Batfam X dazai! GNreader X Yandere DC

Forgotten child

Pro. Ch.1 (you are here) Ch.2

No longer human….

The name of your ability to nullify any type of meta power or other ability within your radius.

Something that your mother made you aware of before she went along with the clouds.

Mori did once told you that she also had an ability, the Setting Sun

An ability that allow the user to give out the sense of despair and hopelessness to their target….

Upon hearing about it you started to wonder if your mother once use it against you

Months had gone by yet the manor felt emptier than ever.

A lingering presence of a child who was life greatest failure or was it life that failed the child?

The presence wasn’t a blissful innocence and joy but instead a lingering sense of sadness and self-destruction of the child.

The place where the presence is almost as if the child is there has to be their bedroom.

A place where the child find solace and comfort,

A place where Alfred mostly goes to whenever he has the chance.

As much as he wants to denies it

Your path of darkness had already started the moment you were born.

Born not out of love but instead a result of a stringless and loveless action during intimacy.

Alfred knew that there was no hope in saving you from the dark pit of despair and sadness but maybe, just maybe if you were surrounded by care and love instead of indifference and neglect, you would’ve turn out differently.

Alfred raised you with all the care and love he could give yet it still doesn’t stop you from being self-destructive and suicidal.

He knows about your struggles with fitting in with your peers.

Your struggles to overcome your self-destructive tendencies.

Especially with how often he helped with bandaging yourself again and again.

He secretly keep pictures of you throughout the years you’ve stayed in the mansion.

Especially when he took you to a fun fair, away from Gotham.

But that still doesn’t give you the light of hope.

He prayed that one day you’re surrounded by the love that you needed and want.

But he hopes you won’t hate him for what he’s about to do

Bruce know whenever his children comes in and out of the manor, yet he couldn’t help but felt as if someone is missing.

He thought that one of them is probably playing some type of prank on him until Alfred came knocking on the door before entering.

“Master Bruce? I’ve come with your tea prepared and old news to bring”

“Old news? Then do tell” putting down all of his paperwork’s, tapping the pen down on the table

“You’re second child had move out a few months back, it’s a sudden but they didn’t bring anything with them.”

Bruce stare at Alfred in confusion. Jason move out, since when did he move in in the first place?

Alfred gave Bruce a knowing look, as if he can read his mind before opening his mouth to speak.

“It is not master Jason, he is your third child. I suggest to take another guess”

Bruce kept a confused look and thinking on who exactly move out from the manor.

It’s definitely not Dick or Jason, nor is it Tim since he’s currently in his room, or is Damian who’s too young to even move out.

Or coul- no, it couldn’t be….

The bitter truth struck to him like a pile of sadness and despair came hugging his very body.

His first biological child.

The one who join after Dick.

His precious child.

[N] Wayne

Does he even remember how you look like? Actually scratch that, did he even have time or actually look at you throughout your life in the manor?

To add the salt to the wound, Alfred once again speak up.

“I had inform you of their departure but you were quick to dismissed it. I decided that it be best for you to be inform of it the second time”

A sense of dread continue to hug Bruce’s body like a blanket, as if a sadness and the guilt of a child had been passed on to another.

Did he ever had a proper conversation to you, or even attend any events at school with you?

God he hopes not.

He doesn’t even remember how your voice sounds like or even what’s you’re likings to simple things like food or even hobby.

“Alfred, how old are they now exactly?”

It’s embarrassing for a parent to even ask that simple question about their child.

“They’ve just turn 22 a month ago, from what I know, they’re currently living in a apartment”

God how many birthdays did he missed.

He didn’t even gave you a simple card and a cake, actually have you ever even had a birthday cake?

Or even any celebrations?

“Alfred, if you may, lead me to their room”

He wants to know what type of person you are, or at least an idea of it.

What a pitiful excuse of a father isn’t it?

You blankly stare at the dead bodies of the people who tried to kidnap you to threaten the port mafia boss.

Having no emotions In your eyes, bandages being redder and dirtier than ever, and 4 subordinates behind you.

“Bring their body to the slaughterhouse, at least their body would be useful in the market”

They were quick to obey to your command, like little rabbits afraid to get killed by the wolf.

The blood on the floors were left alone, and the deafening silence was your company.

Keyword : Was.

You’re not stupid to not know you’re being watch.

By Bruce’s other child no less, the one who was presumed dead by the members.

“You can come out now Jason. Or should I call you by your vigilante name, Red Hood?”

You watch as he slowly show himself to you, putting his gun down, hands holding nothing.

You just blankly stare at him before putting on a small smirk.

“Try to put me in jail? Or did you change your mind when you saw it was me?”

You change your expression to a blank one, the one that shows the darkness in your eyes and the feeling of the grim reaper surrounding you.

In Jason eyes, there’s something wrong with your silhouette.

Is it the way you’re staring at him? Or the feeling of despair, death and sorrows that clings to you.

It was as if you’re not even a human being.

You turn back and walk away from him, having enough of one of the famous vigilante of Gotham.

“You can take the leftover bullets if you want, must be frustrating to use the rubber ones”

Inspired by @-acid-ixx again & again series and @-marcyvamp1re-blog silly little bat

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: The beginning

This Is Chapter 1 (masterlist)

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The Inner Circle noticed the change in Azriel almost immediately.

It started subtly. A missed meeting here, a late arrival there. At first, they chalked it up to his duties as the spymaster, knowing full well how deeply he was entangled in the shadows of Velaris and beyond. But as the days turned into weeks, Azriel’s absences grew more frequent, his presence more elusive.

Cassian was the first to voice his concern. “Anyone else noticed how Azriel’s been… disappearing?” he asked, frowning over the rim of his glass. They were gathered in the River House, the warmth of the hearth doing little to dispel the chill that had settled in the room.

Rhysand exchanged a glance with Feyre, his brow furrowed. “I’ve noticed,” he admitted. “But every time I reach out through the daemati, he’s always quick to assure me everything is fine. He’s been more secretive than usual, though.”

Mor, who had been unusually quiet, leaned forward, her eyes shadowed with worry. “I tried to ask him directly last week. He brushed me off, said it was nothing, just more work than usual. But… he looked exhausted, Rhys.”

It was true. When they did see Azriel, it was only for brief moments. He’d sweep in, dark circles under his eyes, his normally impeccable leathers rumpled as if he’d been up all night. He would give them a tight smile, exchange a few clipped words or go to his nephews, and then vanish again into the night. Even his shadows seemed quieter, more subdued, clinging to him like they too were weighed down by something unseen.

Feyre couldn’t shake the image of Azriel from her mind—the way he’d barely touched his food the last time they’d all sat down to dinner together, the way he’d flinched when Mor tried to touch his arm. There was something wrong, something deeply troubling, and it gnawed at her.

“I don’t like this,” Feyre said softly, her hand resting on the swell of her abdomen. “Azriel never lies to us, but it feels like he’s hiding something. Something big.”

Cassian’s hand clenched into a fist. “I’m going to drag him here if I have to. We need answers.”

But when Cassian did confront Azriel, it was like trying to catch smoke. The spymaster simply shrugged him off, his face impassive, his hazel eyes cold. “I’m fine, Cass. Just busy.”

“You look like death warmed over, Az. What’s going on?” Cassian pressed, frustration bleeding into his voice.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, shadows curling protectively around him. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

And that was the end of it. No matter how much Cassian prodded, how much Mor pleaded, how much Rhys tried to subtly pry into his mind, Azriel remained a stone wall. Implacable. Unyielding. Denying every question with the same cold, tired detachment.

It wasn’t until one particularly stormy night that Feyre finally cornered him. Azriel had returned to the River House, drenched from the rain, his normally sharp wings drooping with fatigue. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his face gaunt, his eyes haunted.

Feyre intercepted him at the door, blocking his path with her small frame. “Azriel,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “We need to talk.”

He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something like guilt, or maybe fear. But then it was gone, replaced by that cold, impenetrable mask. “There’s nothing to talk about, Feyre.”

She didn’t move. “Please, Az. We’re all worried about you. You’re hiding something, and it’s tearing you apart. Let us help.”

For a long, tense moment, he simply stared at her, the rain dripping from his hair onto the polished floor. Feyre held her breath, praying he would open up, let her in, let someone in. But then his shoulders slumped, and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Feyre. But I can’t. Not yet.”

And with that, he slipped past her, leaving her standing in the doorway, her heart heavy with a growing dread.

Whatever Azriel was hiding, it was tearing him apart. And if he didn’t let them in soon, Feyre feared it would destroy him.

The Inner Circle was united in their concern, but despite their best efforts, Azriel remained a ghost in their lives, always on the periphery, always slipping through their fingers.

It was Rhys who finally voiced what they were all thinking, his voice a low, worried murmur as they gathered in the dim light of the sitting room. “Whatever it is… it’s only a matter of time before it comes crashing down on him. And when it does, he'll open.”

They nodded in agreement, but a shared, unspoken fear hung heavy in the air: would Azriel let them catch him when he finally fell?

---

Dinner at the River House was usually a time of comfort and camaraderie, a rare moment when the Inner Circle could gather without the weight of the world pressing down on their shoulders. But tonight, the atmosphere was tense, the usual warmth replaced by a cold, uneasy silence. The kids played outside as the adults sat.

Azriel sat at the far end of the table, his plate barely touched. He pushed the food around absently, his mind clearly elsewhere. His face was shadowed, his eyes distant, and the weariness that had been growing in him for weeks was more pronounced than ever.

Feyre noticed the way his gaze flicked to the windows, as if he was counting the minutes until he could leave. Cassian and Mor exchanged worried glances, and Rhysand’s brows drew together in a frown.

They all felt it—the growing distance, the secrets he was keeping. But tonight wasn’t the night to push him further. Not when he looked so close to breaking.

“Azriel,” Feyre said gently as the meal drew to a close, “You barely ate. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Azriel looked up, his expression neutral but his eyes giving away his exhaustion. “I’m fine, Feyre. Just tired.”

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Azriel stood, the movement abrupt. “I need to go,” he muttered, already turning toward the door. “There’s something I need to take care of.”

“Az—” Rhysand started, but Azriel was already halfway out of the room.

“Goodnight,” Azriel tossed over his shoulder, his voice a distant echo as he disappeared into the night, leaving the Inner Circle staring after him in stunned silence.

Outside, the cool night air hit him like a wave, clearing some of the fog from his mind. Without pausing, Azriel unfurled his wings and launched himself into the sky, the wind whipping through his hair as he flew faster, higher, needing to escape the concerned looks, the unspoken questions, the suffocating worry.

He flew over the glittering city of Velaris, its lights twinkling like stars reflected in the Sidra River. But he didn’t linger. He angled his wings and veered away, heading towards the mountains, towards the darkness that loomed just beyond the city’s borders.

The Hewn City was a stark contrast to Velaris, a place where shadows reigned and light was a rare commodity. Even from the sky, Azriel could feel the oppressive weight of the city, the malice that seeped from its very stones. But he didn’t hesitate. He descended into one of the darker parts of the city, where the narrow alleys were shrouded in perpetual twilight, where even the bravest of souls dared not tread.

Azriel landed silently in one such alley, the shadows welcoming him as an old friend. He folded his wings and moved quickly, his footsteps barely a whisper on the cobblestones. The buildings here were ancient, their facades cracked and worn, their windows dark and uninviting. But Azriel knew exactly where he was going.

At the end of the alley was a narrow staircase, worn smooth by centuries of use. He climbed it swiftly, his heartbeat quickening with each step. When he reached the top floor, he paused, gathering himself. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

The apartment was small, barely more than a single room with a bed pushed against one wall and a fireplace that cast a warm, flickering glow across the space. But to Azriel, it was a sanctuary. A place where the world’s troubles fell away, where he could be someone other than the Spymaster of Night Court.

And there, in the center of the room, was the reason he kept coming back.

YN, his love, his secret, his everything, was standing by the window, bathed in the soft light of the fire. She was smaller than him by far, her frame delicate, her own scars glowing, her features soft and kind in a way that was the exact opposite of the harshness of the world he knew. Her eyes, so full of warmth and love, lit up when she saw him, a smile spreading across her lips.

But there was a reason Azriel had never mentioned her to the Inner Circle, why he kept this part of his life hidden even from those he trusted most. YN worked under one of the pleasure homes in the Hewn City, forced into servitude under the command of the Hewn City’s lords. It was a dark and cruel existence, one that Azriel despised with every fibre of his being.

The idea of the Inner Circle knowing the truth—that the woman he loved was bound to such a place—was unbearable. He had seen too much darkness in his life, and the thought of exposing YN to the judgment, pity, or even the well-intentioned attempts to “rescue” her from that life, filled him with dread.

But here, in the quiet of this small apartment, she wasn’t the servant of cruel masters. She was just YN, the woman who had captured his heart despite everything, who had chosen him despite the four hundred and fifty years that separated them.

And in her arms was their newborn son, Knox, a tiny, perfect symbol of the life they had created together despite the odds.

The infant was only two weeks old, a small bundle of life that had already become Azriel’s anchor. Knox was asleep, his small, peaceful face a reminder of all that was good and pure in the world. Azriel’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of them.

This was why he disappeared every night. This was the secret he guarded so fiercely, the reason for his exhaustion, his distraction. This was the life he had built in the shadows, away from the eyes of the world.

YN walked over to him, her steps light and sure. “You look tired,” she said softly, reaching up to touch his face, her fingers brushing against the dark circles under his eyes.

“I am,” Azriel admitted, his voice rough with emotion. He let her touch ground him, pulling him out of the dark places in his mind and back into the light of her presence. “But seeing you… seeing him… it makes it all worth it.”

YN’s smile was soft, her eyes filled with a love so deep it made his heart ache. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” she whispered. “I told you that if coming here after work is too much stay in Velaris for the night.”

Azriel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, savouring the warmth that radiated from her. He knew she was right, but the weight of his responsibilities, the need to protect them, to keep them safe from the dangers he faced daily, made it hard to let go. “I just want to keep you both safe. And need you,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

YN reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her touch gentle but firm. “You already do,” she whispered against his mouth. “Just being here, being with us… that’s all we need, just as much as you need us.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around her, careful not to disturb Knox, who slept on, blissfully unaware of the world’s troubles. He held them both close, feeling the tension that had been coiled inside him begin to unravel. In this small, hidden room, in the arms of the woman he loved and with his son safe in her embrace, Azriel finally allowed himself to breathe.

For now, the shadows could wait. Here, in the warmth of their love, he was home. And this home is just the beginning of their secrets...

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[megapteraurelia]

bokuto koutarou’s hands were an angry red.

so were the tip of his nose and his ears, but at the very least, his jacket was pulled up high, hiding his mouth and chin. a couple of white crystals were sprinkled on his clothing, hanging from the tips of his lashes and hair, slowly melting at the warmth of his body. though there was no mistaking the wide smile on his face despite the cover, his eyes crinkling up, eyebrows pulled up high in excitement. 

“hey,” he grinned at you, “your most-favourite bestest boyfriend has come to bless your day.”

“kou, oh my god, it’s freezing outside!” you ushered him inside, and he kicked his shoes off, heavy body already draping over you, his familiar weight threatening to drag you down. he loved letting gravity take a hold of him, loved having you take the brunt of his compliableness, become putty in your hands. you were used to his antics, but that didn’t mean his engulfing you and dead weighing himself magically became any less heavy. 

(secretly, you loved it, too. couldn’t get enough of him trying to melt into you, athletic muscles turning mellow, broad shoulders towering over you, stuffing your face in his neck. god, you wouldn’t exchange this for anything in this world.)

“kou—” your muffled voice with a mouthful of his scarf turned from a soft inquiry to a screech when his icy hands sneaked underneath your sweater to touch your warm skin; a violent shudder befalling you at the contact, “wa-haaa-aait, you are so doing it on purpose! get your hands off!”

“but this is my body,” he mumbled next to your ear and his hands squeezed your flesh for emphasis. his voice sounded light and self-assured but you knew if you denied him again, you would be able to feel his cheeks moving as his mouth would jut his lip forward into an exaggerated pout and he’d cling onto you even more, “so i’m gonna warm my hands where they belong!”

for a second you contemplated pushing against him, because — “fine, fine, but let’s get under some blankets first. this is way too cold for me.”

his cheer was too cute, too loud, too strong of a squeeze around your heart. his eagerness manifested in him suddenly relieving you off his weight, his cold fingers gripping tighter to lift you up, legs shuffling across the floor to find their way to your bed.

“i’ve been thinking—”

“uh oh.”

“—hey, wait, baaaaaaby, you know i’m trying hard here to make use of my brain.”

you snickered in response to his little sulking, yet your hands scratched his hair gently, affectionate. his nose was pressed against your throat in a sensual way that only bokuto koutarou in his innocent desire to practically blend his existence together with yours could manage, legs tangled together though he had shrieked even louder than you when your cold toes managed to find their way between his calves.

“i’ve been thinking that i have a lot of thoughts about thinking. especially about you. you’re always on my mind, even when i try thinking about the match, or how to hit the ball to get past the blocks. then i think about how awesome you’d think i look, and then i can’t stop thinking about your face and how you smell,” he complained, cheeks puffed up in indignance, voice taking a notch of childlike annoyance and a little whine entered his deep baritone, “you have to fix it. omi already looked at me like i was a bug on the wall when i got distracted. but i wasn’t distracted! i was just thinking about you, so that’s not really a distraction. but i’m also not a bug either. so! make it go away!”

you hid your smile against his hair, and despite his words of making it go away, his hands had only pulled you closer against him, chest flushed against his, breathing in tandem. his grumbling and grouching continued, intent on keeping himself blame-free and using you as the scapegoat, yet his body kept pressing against you, his mouth stealing sly kisses that he gleefully thought you didn’t notice. 

though, naturally, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was.

[affableramen]

How they act after you spent the night together 💝 | Genshin Impact men x You, the reader

Tags: 18+ only, slight dirty talk, mentions of certain lower organs; choking kink; oral sex.

Characters: Wriothesley, Pantalone, Dottore

Note: afab reader, FLUFF

Minors DNI

Pantalone: acting like he dgaf what happened yesterday was a tough task for him. Even though he is usually composed, poker face and acts in professional manner, the sight of you in the same building with him would give him pleasant goosebumps. Perhaps, everyone in the office could see the quick little stares he would constantly give you. The longing, fervent, but such vulnerable at the same time look in his eyes was for you and you only. He doesn’t care about the secretary constantly flirting with him, in his mind there is only one person he is not cold and aloof - it is you. Some women even complained about him being cold and indifferent during bed activities, but with you he finally let his guard down and gave you the deepest of love. Once you both finish your work, Pantalone offers you a hand, “I couldn’t get you off my mind. Even though I am at work and this is deemed unprofessional of me, I’ve been thinking about us the whole day.” Yes — he had been thinking. Thinking how he leaned his body over yours and fucked you painfully slowly, enjoying your eye rolling, diving so deeply into you as if wanting to milk himself dry, using your body. How he pleasured you long first with his fingers, then his mouth. And most importantly the moment you both came with a strong shiver, your bodies stuck with each other, both of you not wanting to let go and doing absolutely anything to prolong the pleasure. With your fingers interlocking he walks you to his sport car. He wants to spend the romantic evening once more with you, and perhaps this time you won’t sneak out of his bedroom early in the morning, leaving his bed oh so lonely. “I’ll make sure for you to stay this time in my bed”, he says, his eyes give off pleading as he secretly begs you to stay.

Wriothesley: needless saying, the duke is red as a tomato the moment he realises he has to face you in a work setting today. The memories of you bouncing on top of him the whole night before flash across his mind. The image of you shamelessly taking his meat into his mouth, sucking it slowly while looking into his eyes ‘til he lost control and pulled you on top of his lap. Wriothesley is a patient man but something about you would make his mind go irrational. He was indulging you the whole night and nobody would dare walk over his office. He put his efforts to make the atmosphere private and confidential for you to feel safe. And once you did, you genuinely took his length inside your mouth and blew him your lungs off. “Fuck— I didn’t know you could.” He would turn away to hide his face, clear his throat and calm down before he can say something coherently or look into your eyes without getting warmth between his thighs. You’d almost laugh - a man whose employees are scared of so, blushes like a virgin after an intimate encounter with you. And this is such a cute thing of him to do.

Once Wrio is soothed, he turns back to you, passing you the task you’re going through today. And when your fingers meet slightly, softly, he shakily exhales. Just for a small moment… before he shifts into a serious duke again. And after you finish your shift, he fervently presses you against the wall, claiming what is his and ‘threatening’ you to not feel your legs by the morning.

Dottore:

for him, to hide the fact of your intimacy previous night was an impossible task. And even though he was wearing his mask, covering the most of his face, you could still notice his blush. He is not very experienced in romantic relationships and could not actually comprehend over what happened yesterday. For him, he’d say it was just a biological reaction… but he could not deny it was very pleasant. In fact, he felt so good he almost lost his mind.

First time you tried to avoid him, because just as Dottore you were feeling slightly embarrassed of what you both did yesterday. He was incredibly passionate and not like himself, slamming his cock into you in a desperate need and pace. His hands gripping your throat almost choking. And as you seductively whispered “Dottore, Dottore…” into the shell of his ear, he would go even harder cause how much you riled him up.

“You, insolent bitch!” He’d groan and hiss while pulling out the full length and slamming back with a loud wet noise, holding your waist, then going back to grip your neck… He indeed, was so crazy last night, and you loved seeing this crazy part of him. The crazy part that was not a scientist, but an uncouth lover. You loved him dirty and straightforward.

To think that this same person would be left speechless and blushing like nothing but a boy in puberty was not only laughable, but also endearing.

[1-800-cheolie]

baby fever | bakugou headcanons

part 2 part 3

tags: suggestive themes, not proof read, heat in the moment writing, fem reader, mentions of pregnancy, established marriage, they’re pro heroes, crappy writing.

word count: 642

☆ bakugou katsuki. when people hear that name, they say he’s rough, brusque and edgy, a double sided sword. on the other hand, you find him sweet and loving, quite adorable even if he denies it.

☆ you often think a lot about how he would treat your kids in the near future and despite his tough exterior, he’s grown fond of kids.

☆ social media thinks that he's going to be the worst dad to exist if you have kids, you think they’re delusional.

☆ but the moment you realize you know he’s the one for your non-existent kids is when you’re both out on patrol and you find a lost kid. “leave him to me” katsuki grumbles. “go get yer injury healed”

☆ you do as told, conversing with one of the medics, and in the corner of your eye, you spot the child laughing with your husband.

☆ butterflies dance about in your stomach, fluttering vigorously. “he’s going to be a great dad, [hero name].“ the medic says. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, almost like you held the earth up for him.”

☆ you softly thank her with a smile, beaming with rays of sunshine as you approach your boyfriend. secretly watching him play with the young boy.

☆ “I see you’re both having a great time” you say. katsuki whips his head in surprise, coughing into his fist as if to hide his blush. “has dynamight been nice to you, sweetie?”

☆ the kid jumps up and down in glee, bobbing his head. “mister dynamight is the best! he even gave me a lollipop! but mommy can’t know or she might get upset”

☆ he sheers away in embarrassment. “thought it might cheer him up or somet’ing” you press your lips against his cheek, praising him for his work. the kid pretends to gag and you both chuckle, he’s an adorable little guy.

☆ “aoi!” a woman calls out and the boy goes running to his mother, “oh my god, I can’t thank you enough.” you smile at her and tell her it’s your job as heroes, waving back to aoi as they leave.

☆ “having a kid doesn’t sound so bad. I wouldn’t mind waking up to our baby in your arms. It’s adorable and sexy.”

☆ he pauses. freezing in place. did he hear you right? our baby. him being a dad? sexy? fuck. you were definitely going to be the death of him.

☆ “[hero name]!” he calls out. you wink at him, skipping off to the agency. “baby! you can’t just say that and leave me like this!” he groans. having a hard on in the middle of work was going to be difficult to explain.

☆ the next morning, you saw the media, snorting at the headline. PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN SMILING WITH A KID. COULD WE POSSIBLY BE SEEING POTENTIAL FATHER MATERIAL?

☆ you yelp in surprise, dropping your phone on the side of the bed at the sudden touch of your boyfriend. “c’mere” he rasps. “why the fuck are you up s’early? it’s only 8am, go back t’sleep”

☆ “wanted to check the time is all. do you need something?” you ask.

☆ he shakes his head and lays you atop of him, grinding against your ass as a grin paints his lips, canines showing. “only thing I need is to fill you up to the brim and pump you full of my cum.”

☆ “katsuki! It’s only 8am!” you repeat his words. they fall deaf on his ears.

☆ next thing you know, you’re holding a test in your hand, double lines are present as a smug katsuki smirks at you. what a little shit.

[genderkoolaid]

I feel like very few pro-trans people are talking about how the current moral panic about teens transitioning is explicitly centred on transmasc teens.

I’ve seen a lot of TERFs very explicitly cite the reason that they got involved in anti-trans campaigning was because more “girls” started transitioning in the 2010s (when before it had been more “boys.”) The initial survey on “Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria” by Lisa Littman surveyed parents of teens over 80% of whom were “female sex at birth.” The Cass Report is explicitly about “the reasons for the increase in referrals [to the NHS for youth transition] and why this increase has disproportionately been seen in birth registered females presenting in adolescence.” Probably the single most popular anti-trans book about youth transition is Abigail Shrier’s Irreversible Damage, which is about transmasc teens.

Not to say that transfem teens aren’t targeted, especially when it comes to sports & bathroom bans, and being painted as predators from a very young age — although there’s definitely also been a lot of hysteria about transmasc teens “seducing” other teens into transitioning, as well as being aggressive, and it’s not like transmasc teens don’t also get beat up in bathrooms.

But just! I don’t see most pro-trans people acknowledging that this whole anti-trans-teen movement was fuelled in a huge way by transandrophobia (or whatever you want to call it), and that one of its primary goals is stopping transmascs from having any agency over our own bodies. At its core, it’s about transmascs not being properly submissive baby-makers who are attractive to straight men and the property of their parents.

It’s not just about transphobia, it’s about transandrophobia specifically and the fact that people can’t even name that makes me doubt what I’ve seen with my own eyes.

(Follow up to my last ask about the trans teen moral panic) I don't think it would bother me so much except that I've so often seen people try to silence transmasc voices on this topic, or say that transmascs are just collateral damage, as if we're not one of the primary reasons it exists and one of its primary targets. I feel like "nothing about us without us" should apply here, you know?

All of this, absolutely.

I've seen people claim that actually, ROGD and its associated panic attacks are actually secretly about transfems at their core, because transfems are the (only) one's blamed for young girls transitioning! Which is fucking wild!!! Like not only is it not true (parents tend to blame social media, specifically transmasc creators who talk about transitioning) but like why do you have this impulse where even things that are blatantly targeting transmascs can't actually be about transmascs. Why are we always the insignificant side characters in our own experiences.

This is how erasure functions: if you can't deny that anti-transmasc violence is happening, deny that its happening to transmascs. Obscure the victims and how the violence is motivated by their transmasculinity.

& then there's also the way that people act like infantilizing misogyny is 1) the only thing any transmasc ever experiences 2) is Oppression Lite and is more annoying than anything. Like sure let's just forget all of feminism and the well documented ways in which being infantilized kills and ruins lives. Because when it's a transmasc it doesn't really count.

Ik somewhere out there there's a video of ContraPoints where she actually corrects another person on their erasure of radfem anti-transmasc rhetoric. Let's see more of that please.

[butteronabun]

diluc + EXES EXES EXES PLEASE (HIIII butter on a bun ^_^ i will Enable you because i have a playlist for him dedicated to this shit) + canon/modern au, etc — pick whatever YOU were thinking writing the request post + spin the wheel and pick a genre~ again, this request is an excuse to hear YOUR thoughts (i have some of my own)

extra: pick whether you want it to be she/her or g/n~ i’m fine with both 🫶

sincerely, 🥩 (who missed you and hasn’t caught up with recent posts bc i was busy </3)

wish that i had more of this borrowed time

a diluc ragnvindr x female reader exes au.

overview: diluc’s heart is his greatest foe.

wc: 3.2k

notes: originally this was 5k words but that was so much & i didn’t want to complicate this more so TAKE IT 😙 this is also a bit open-ended so feel free to interpret this however you like!! also, additional notes will be in the end, so better check that out too :)

“You’re going to break that glass, Master Diluc,” remarks Kaeya Alberich himself, who is this close to purchasing popcorn to watch the ‘drama’ that he has been observing for a while now. Weinlesefest truly has its wonders – fresh wine, good company, and a brother who definitely still isn’t over his ex, even if said brother continues to deny it. “You look under the weather. Why not take a breather and enjoy the sights? You have a loyal staff that’s willing to oversee the Angel’s Share stand for a while.”

Diluc’s cold, unwavering glare remains on that face of his. Kaeya’s almost certain that comparing his ice from his cryo vision with Diluc’s expression will have no difference at all. “I am doing fine, Master Kaeya.” He looks down at the glass he has wiped for—Kaeya guesses—the fifth time now, and picks up another one. 

“Really? But it’s becoming a little hot, Master Diluc. I’ve noticed that as the minutes pass by, the temperature of the stand has been concerningly rising as of late. Are you secretly heating up some tasty bar snacks, or is it something else?”

Kaeya suppresses a smirk when the warmth around them subdues momentarily. He has one theory that he’s sure is actually true—a theory where that ‘heat’ is coming from, and it’s definitely not the wind. 

It’s the ninth month of the calendar. Summer’s already over. So it’s safe to say that. . .

“Don’t you have other matters to tend to?” Diluc narrows his eyes at him. Oh, changing the subject now, aren’t we? “Surely, Cavalry Captains still have to scout the area for any potential threats during Weinlesefest, or have the knights really gone incompetent?”

“Oh, you. Everyone deserves to enjoy the festival every once in a while,” Kaeya raises his keg playfully. “And that includes even you.”

Diluc just grumbles at that. Still stubborn as always, but Kaeya remembers the day when the traveler told him a few years ago that Diluc, despite isolating himself during the previous festivals, reveled. (Reveled on his own, was what they clarified.) It’s a comforting thought that even such a busy man as himself can still enjoy these moments.

And Kaeya wishes he’d see it more. 

Diluc willingly taking charge of the Angel Share’s stand instead of Charles? How endearing. Is it really because he’s here for the celebration, or something else? 

(Kaeya—and he’s pretty sure, Diluc is, too—hears nearby footsteps. Familiar voices.)

Or someone else?

Whatever it is, Kaeya is fine with either. 

“Still baffles me that my suggested proposals got rejected— ah, we’re here. Oh, hi, Kaeya!” 

Kaeya sips his beer and smiles at you. “Hey.” And he watches it all unfold again. You smile back at him, before slowly turning to Diluc, who has never taken his eyes off of you ever since your arrival. 

You hide a lock of your hair behind your ear timidly. “Hi, Diluc.”

It’s really fascinating to see his brother still so soft with you. People may not notice this, but Kaeya knows Diluc best. “Good evening. What would you like tonight?”

“Ah – my company here—” you turn to the man beside you, a fellow colleague perhaps, and Kaeya seriously has to control himself from smirking. The area’s heating up again. “—would like to try some of the Fruits of the Festival that we’ve been hearing of. Is it still available?”

Diluc nods. “Yours?”

“I don’t want anything, actually—”

“Please, don’t do that,” The man calls out your name, and steps forward. The warmth’s growing. “If you think that you’re treating me tonight, then I’ll be treating you as well. Bartender, I’ll be ordering Wolfhook Juice for this lovely lady.”

The man winks at you, confident with himself, until Diluc breaks the flair by simply saying, “She’s allergic to that.”

Ah, this is great. Kaeya’s considering if he should bring Rosaria or even Lisa along for the drama. 

“W–wait, really? You’re allergic to Wolfhook?”

“Ah, D–Diluc—” As much as Kaeya relishes in dear Diluc’s jealousy, your expressions are also just as priceless. Speechless that his amazing brother still has one detail about you memorized? Pfft. Such is a man of great talent who has a knack for processing knowledge in such a short time. He’s a businessman, after all. It’s important to know a lot of things. “You still remember that?”

Diluc doesn’t reply to that question. Instead, he goes on preparing the drink with ease and in silence. Kaeya can feel the awkwardness in the air as they watch Diluc swiftly mix the ingredients, and the man accompanying you merely coughs to dissipate the tension.

“So, um,” The man starts, “I’ve heard that Starsnatch Cliff looks beautiful at this time of night. I was wondering if you’d like to stargaze with me?”

You seem sheepish. “Oh, I—”

There’s a loud thud, surprising everyone, except for Kaeya and Diluc themselves. Diluc has placed the glass in front of the man, face emotionless. “It’s late. Dangerous, even. I recommend that you postpone such a journey.” 

Kaeya hides his smile behind his keg. Oh, Diluc. Could you get even more obvious? He wishes to voice out that poor Klee and the other children might get scared because of his ‘grumpy face’ again, but it is late and they’re not here anymore, so it isn’t a valid reason to mention. 

Oh, the area’s hotter now. The man is visibly sweating under the intimidating man’s stare. “A–Ah, I see- t–thank you for that then, good sir—”

“Diluc, don’t scare him,” you scold him lightly, and take the glass. “And we’ll be fine, I have a vision.”

His stupid brother’s about to protest, and Kaeya readies himself for another session of ‘Diluc Facepalming Himself Because He Made A Fool of Himself In Front of his Ex’ when you add on:

“Though, Diluc’s right. It’s dangerous to go out right now since I’ve heard from the outriders that the concentration of hilichurl camps around that area is growing in size again. So we shouldn’t go.” You give the man his drink, and gesture him to an empty table. “And didn’t you tell me you’re tired already? Why not sit down for a while?”

Once you two are seated on a table that’s too far for Diluc’s liking, Kaeya sighs and shakes his head. Diluc glowers at him. “What?”

“Attentive as ever.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Diluc says as he crosses his arms.

“The least thing you could do is be attentive to her well–being, even though you’re not her lover anymore?” The temperature intensifies. Oops. Kaeya stepped on something he shouldn’t. But it’s always so fun to get on Diluc’s nerves. “Admit it, you still haven’t moved on.”

Diluc then retorts, “Is it so bad to care for an old friend?” “So that’s what you call her now?”

“Kaeya,” Diluc warns.

“Diluc~” Kaeya pleasantly sings. Then, his lips part into an ‘o.’ “My, I smell something burning. Are you really cooking something up?”

Kaeya doesn’t bat an eyelash on the slightly scorched bartop.

_

Diluc’s heart is his greatest foe.

He has too much love in his heart, and oftentimes, it causes him great anguish. 

He wanted to rip his heart out the night his father passed on. He wanted to stomp on it after causing Kaeya harm. 

And he wanted to abandon it, just like how you did.

“Let’s end this,” you told him one dinner, with your head dipped down, not wanting to meet his eyes. You trembled as you anticipated his response, but you didn’t get one. Diluc was left aghast. “This isn’t working for the both of us, Diluc.”

Such was the fate of a Ragnvindr who dedicated his time to protecting the city and thwarting the enemies that threatened his nation. Such is the fate of a Ragnvindr who occupied himself with the winery’s business ventures. 

Such was the fate of a Ragnvindr, who, despite having a big heart, had failed his lover. 

He wanted to say—maybe we could try again. I will be better this time. He knew he could solve this, if he could think of strategies to counterattack the abyss, or even keep his competitors on their toes with his new business plans, surely, he could remedy this. 

“I have too much on my plate. You have too much on yours. Let us end this before we affect each other.”

When your tears cascaded down your cheeks, Diluc wanted to wipe them away. But he couldn’t even move. Not even an inch. How could he, when his heart was being shattered to pieces? 

You had too much on your plate? Why didn’t you say anything? You know he’d always be here for you.

So why?

He wanted to say — then let’s face them together.

But you had other plans.

It was over. 

And he understood.

_

“How fortunate that our dear cutie decided to visit this year’s Weinlesefest,” Lisa says as she touches the petals of the cecilias. She’s here in Diluc’s garden. Lisa, for some reason, has the tendency to make unannounced visits. She smiles up at Diluc who’s observing her from the gazebo. “Don’t you feel the same way too, Diluc? That she’s here again, after almost two and a half years.”

Diluc crosses his arms. “I fail to understand why I’d have to voice out my opinions on the matter.”

“Ah, but didn’t you say something to Kaeya? Supposedly, shouldn’t you be happy that an ‘old friend’ came back?”

Diluc averts his gaze, and Lisa smiles even wider before tending back to the flowers.

“She favors these, don't they? Cecilia flowers.” Lisa sniffs one. This one smells very fresh. It’s as if all the flowers here are greatly taken care of. “Oh, this takes me back. I still recall how you and her first met. You two were so adorable! She used to chase you around, desperate for your attention. And despite your attempts to push her away, she still managed to win you over. Her blushing face was the absolute best when you gifted her a bouquet of cecilias. Really, who knew that you could get so romantic?”

Lisa lifts her head and fixates on the clouds. “She’s your first love, right? And you treasured her so.” She checks to see if Diluc’s still there, and he is. 

He’s still sulking like the baby he is.

“Diluc?”

Lisa can hear him murmur, but it’s not too audible for her ears to pick up. “I beg your pardon?”

“. . .her favorite.”

Lisa tilts her head. “Favorite?” 

“Cecilia flowers.” Diluc says. “They’re not her favorite.”

“Oh, my. So what’s her favorite, then?”

Diluc is reluctant. But he answers anyway. “Small lamp grass flowers.”

Oh, Lisa knows.

She just wanted to hear him say it.

_

No one knows how much Diluc has struggled during the first months of your breakup with him. 

He got moody, at times. Even slept in too much, which was surprising, because he wasn’t the type of person to sleep, not at all, when he had errands to run. He was a business owner by day, and a vigilante by night—he shouldn’t coop himself up inside his quarters all the time just to let his broken heart weep.

So even if those days, those weeks, those months, were nothing but unimaginable suffering – Diluc had to rise. Someone still had to face the darkness for the dawn.

The overseeing of the winery and the scouting of adversaries were great distractions to someone like him.

But he couldn’t deny the fact that whenever he was resting, or even had one moment of leisure, those thoughts canw creeping in. How were you? Where were you? Are you faring well? Do you still yearn for him, as much as he yearns for you?

Are you as ruined as he is?

Diluc didn’t expect that breakups could get this hard. He thought the drunkards in his taverns were over exaggerating it a bit too much because of the alcohol, but now, he could understand.

( He didn’t resort to alcoholism, though. )

He really tried to get over you. He really did. He really tried to forget. 

But how could he, when he cherished you so?

How could he, when his heart continuously ached for you? How could he, when he longed for you desperately after you left Mondstadt.

_

( ”There are plenty of fish in the sea. There are lots of daughters from various nations wanting to be your wife! Why not choose any of them, to fill that hole in your chest?”

The last time a patron told Master Diluc those exact words, he nearly banished them from his tavern. )

_

Moving on was not an option here, it seemed, when everything reminded Diluc of you. 

He saw you everywhere. You liked talking a lot, and he liked listening to you, even before you two were dating. Every experience, every anecdote, every musing, and every vent — he remembered it all. 

Diluc knew what type of coffee you liked. At first, you weren’t such a big fan of them, but you found one that suited your taste. ( “Just one cup is enough, though. Two or more will make me palpitate!” ) Pepperoni became your favorite pizza topping when you ate with Jean when she invited you for lunch out of gratitude. ( “Cheesy spinach is a close second!” ) You liked reading books and seemed to get lost in them a lot; you even excitedly discussed your reviews to him of the novels or pieces of information you’ve read. ( “Like can you believe it?! He had a twin brother all along!” or “Now I understand why you have such a big chair in your office! It’s because it signifies your status! ” )

You were so endearing. Diluc really, really loved every bit of you and made sure to give you the love that you deserved. He tried his best as he could to provide you with the affection that you needed.

Yet it still wasn’t enough.

Because if it did, Diluc would still be here at his dining table, reading his documents and sipping coffee with you. If it did, you’d still offer Diluc one slice of pepperoni or cheesy spinach pizza after your lunch with Jean. If it did, you would still bother him underneath the sheets until late hours into the night regarding the mundane and the interesting.

Move on, they said. They were all growing concerned.

Move on, a rational part of him also said. It was for his own good.

But he had always been stubborn.

_

( 

“Master Diluc’s single?! Again?”

“The most eligible bachelor’s throne is his once more.”

“Back off, even if the Master’s single, he won’t give you no heed. Just give up.”

“Come on, support me a little! I just want to give him a good time. Don’t you think I have a chance?”

“Not one bit, lass. Not one bit.” )

_

Weinlesefest is in full swing—

“Yet here you are, moping.” A green bard sits on the pier beside Diluc, who’s currently throwing rocks onto the surface of the water. “Master Diluc, shouldn’t you be out there and celebrate? Or did you choose to stay here because you haven’t scored a date?”

Diluc narrows his eyes at him curtly, before throwing another stone into the water. 

“A silent treatment for me, I see,” The bard strings his lyre, “But I have no worry, for you’ll answer me eventually.”

Diluc sighs. “She’s occupied as of the moment.”

“Oh~? I see that the tables have turned, then?”

Diluc scoffs. Of course he also knows about what had happened before. “Really. What’s your purpose for being here? And stop with your rhyming. It’s annoying me.”

The bard snickers. Stroke a chord it seems. “It’s the second to the last day of this festive event, and I’ve yet to see you participate. Minus the fact of taking care of the Angel Share’s stall, but you must at least do something that’s not related to work.”

“It’s in my blood to dedicate myself when it comes to work.” Diluc throws another stone. “I have no other choice, Venti.”

“Yet here you are, skipping stones?”

“Here I am, skipping stones.”

The bard sighs sadly. As he kicks his legs back and forth, he says - “Do you remember the Thousand-Wind Wine Razor made with the Traveler?”

“Of course. The barrel they used belongs to my winery.”

There’s another silence. Then Venti speaks again. “The wind is many things, you know. It can bring back the soul, and especially, preserve memories—you know of the fact that dandelion seeds are added last as a way of capturing the wind at the very moment when the barrel is sealed. Meaning, the memory of that ‘moment’ is stored in the wine, for all eternity.”

“And your point is?”

“Let yourself be happy this once.”

_

After the citizens of Mondstadt welcomed the Anemo God, they all felt the gentle breeze kissing their skin as he graciously made himself present into the wind. The children cheered, and the adults raised their cups for a toast. Everyone was having a splendid time.

“To the Anemo Archon!”

You, however, have just finished preparing for your departure back to Sumeru. After packing your belongings and making sure you didn’t leave anything in the inn, you had to go find your companion — who’s still probably busy trying out new drinks. 

You sigh at that, a little amused. You also resign to this fate. The journey to Sumeru will have to wait until later. Plus, you haven’t even properly said your goodbyes to the others, so, there’s that. 

A polite cough echoes behind you. You turn around, and your heart flutters at the sight of a familiar man. Diluc.

“May I request a bit of your time?” He asks, always so gently.

You’re pleased and surprised, of course - because it’s Diluc. Diluc, who’s obviously seeking you, even if he’s made clear that he’s occupied with duties of the winery. 

You want to humor him a little bit, so you snicker. “But what if I don’t want to?” You gesture to your satchel. “I’m preparing for my departure, you see.”

Diluc already knows that, doesn’t he? He doesn’t even react. “If that’s the case, then I respect your decision.”

Oh, that’s a bit disappointing. You kind of want to slap yourself for that. You should’ve just accepted Diluc’s request instead of pulling stuff like this. Why play hard to get, when Diluc’s already—

“But I beg of you,” Diluc adds, and you blink. There’s determination in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat when you notice that there’s also something else. “Before you leave. . . please, spend time with me. All it takes is just a short moment with you, and I’ll be content. I won’t ask for anything more.”

—making initiative, huh.

How can you say no to that?

You smile at him—a little bit too tenderly. “Alright then, Diluc.” You lift a hand, gesturing for him to take it. “Lead the way.”

supposedly this was seriously longer, it had more plot ( i indulged on this way too much when i was writing this but had to omit a lot of stuff because i was getting overboard + wanted to more focus on how diluc interacts with his ex / what he feels about his ex / what he felt without his ex asfghjfk also, here's one screenshot before i deleted this part; i wasn't rlly kidding that it had more substance and it was originally angsty:

anw. shoutout to my bestie who brainstormed with me abt ex diluc hcs it was so fun. lemme share to y'all what we talked abt: 1) we thought that diluc is the type of person who’d date to marry, 2) his heart is so so freaking loyal he'd still pine for his first love, and 3) he falls hard and is stupidly sentimental plus. if he did have an ex, the breakup will def bother / ruin / devastate him, especially when he loved that person sm :(

[champagnecherryblossom]

• Behind the Spotlight: His Craving, Her Bliss •

Pairing | mingi x fem!reader

Word Count | 860

Summary | Being famous was the best, but the stress and overworking was the price to pay. That is unless you had someone to help relieve it.

Warnings | idol au, dom!mingi, fem!reader, self denying, riding, clit play, dry humping, raw (wrap it up), slightly begging, dirty talking (the slightest), twt link.

A/N - first twt link, link is somewhere in the middle of the fic 😏

After a long day of dance practice, Mingi wanted nothing more then to get home and be with you. And that was exactly what he did.

As soon as he walked into your shared apartment, Mingi wasted no time in pulling you in his arms. His face immediately in the crook of your neck. His lips latching onto the soft skin that he kissed and sucked.

Mingi was never to leave cheap small hickeys, he made sure to leave dark lasting ones. Ones that you hated and were a bitch to cover up, but also secretly loved. So when you felt him latch on you did so little to pull away making a small cheap whine escape your lips.

Chuckling lowly against your neck, Mingi backed you up towards the couch. His already harden cock grinding against you for friction. Pushing the taller at arms length. You smirked.

“Not so fast, my turn to be top” You said seductively. Taking his hand you lead him to the bedroom. Pushing him onto the bed, you straddled his crotch.

The feeling of his confined member rubbing against your aching cunt, you couldn’t help but grind against him. Looking down at him, you were welcomed by the sight of Mingi biting his lip as he tried his best to hold back his pathetic moans and begs for more.

“Was work that long?” You teased. Pulling your tank top off, you tossed it over the bed. You’re breast free and aroused. Mingi’s breath hitched, his hand reaching up as his kneaded your plushy breast.

“Fuck… I’ve been thinking of these all day.” Mingi groaned as he thrusted up against you. Letting out a surprised moan, you looked down at Mingi. You couldn’t wait anymore, you needed him inside you.

“Pants and boxers off, Song.” You demanded as you pushed yourself off to remove your own clothes, the ones you still had on that is.

Mingi wasted no time in stripping from his clothes, his member pressed hard and throbbing against his lower abdomen. You moaned at the sight, getting back to straddling him. You gave Mingi a pussy-job, your folds wrapped around his length soaking it with your slick. Your clit tapping against his tip every grind you made.

Mingi’s grip on your hips was tight, almost bruising. He needed to be in you, but you were teasing him despite being just as horny as him. With a few more grinds, you felt that familiar tightness. Quivering you pulled away, your cunt throbbing deep long throbs. Mingi’s head shot up as he looked at you.

“Why’d you stop?” He said breathless, his hips involuntary thrusting up against nothing. His tip leaking of his arousal, he was bothered. Maybe even more than you were.

You smirked as you played with your nipples, his eyes locked on your breast. He bit his lip as he took his cock into his hand giving it a few strokes before you slapped his hand away.

“No touch, Mings.” You whined. Letting a frustrated groan, Mingi listened anyways.

Satisfied, you took his length into your hand before you hovered over his leaking tip. With a swift movement you sank onto his cock. The feeling was overwhelming for the both of you, you took a moment to clench around him once he was balls deep. Mingi for one had a hard time trying to not thrust up into you.

“I’m gonna ride you now.” You said looking down at him. Mingi’s hands gripped onto your hips, his head thrown back against the pillows as he let out a breathless ‘yes, ride me’.

And you did, you rode him like it was your last day on earth. The sound of skin against skin filled the room with his grunts and groans, your moans and slugging from your wet cunt mixed with the arousal you guys were in.

The feeling came back, that tightness in your stomach. Your walls clenched around him making Mingi thrust up. Slipping off him, you quivered once more. You’re thighs shaking as you watched his cock throb with need and lost.

“Come on, stop doing that…” Mingi begged, he knew he could easily turn the tables. Which he was on the verge of doing. But he knew he couldn’t. It was the only rule you guys had. Once one if top, their top. But then again, rules were meant to be broken.

Smirking, you slipped him back in and began to ride him. His cock twitched, his hands going back to your hips and holding them there. Without any hesitation, Mingi fucked up into you. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck it, I’ll let you torture me later.” Mingi groaned as he pulled you down onto his cock. The skin against skin intensifying as he forced you against his cock. You’re eyes rolled back, you fingers rubbed against your clit. You were in pure bliss.

“You’re so fucked. Mingi.” You moaned out.

“I know.” He smirked as he flipped the positions, his hips snapped into yours as his cock hit deep inside you.

“Fuck… I’m going to ruin you.”

And he did, so much for the rule.

[outsidersheadcanons]

Um random Ponyboy headcanon for you all.

- So. Ponyboy still plays with toys pretty often (which is pretty typical of a 13-14 yr old) but because he’s in his “I’ve been 14 for a month I’m a grown up now 😡” phase he will deny it bc he thinks it makes him look less tuff 💀

- But once he flipped out on Darry because he found some of his matchbox cars in a bag that he was going to donate (despite telling Darry a week earlier that he was too old for toys and didn’t care about them).

- Another time Soda came home early to find him playing w/ their old army men on the living room floor (and tbh. he kinda wanted to join in but Ponyboy practically threw them back into the box and sprinted off to the bedroom 😭)

- Whenever they go to the grocery store or smth he secretly wants to go to the toy aisle or look at the matchbox car displays they have near the register (Darry always lets him ofc, but that doesn’t stop him from saying something like “Darry can I go look at the stationary” or smth to cover it up 😭)

- Tbh no one in the gang really cares abt it. Ponyboy’s the baby anyway and he’s been thru it so they lay off when it comes to that (and during Christmastime Darry always makes sure to put a new car or a bouncy ball or smth like that in his stocking)