#and honestly he has my full support
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murasaki-cha · 3 months ago
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His mom, dad and brother back probably ngl
It doesn't have to be that deep Agatha he just doesn't want to be parentless and wants his twin back
Edit: SEE HE WANTS TOMMY!
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wishchip106 · 1 month ago
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imagine what the xmen would be like if charles and erik were human
i’m imagining more movie version of xmen with this
if we look at first class moira did originally reach out to charles because he’s a genetics professor and not a mutant
when charles was doing his presentation at the CIA they were not convinced until he and raven showed their mutations
honestly don’t know how raven managed to tag along maybe charles convinced everyone she could come
but like without his telepathy he probably gets rejected and he likely leaves with raven
now erik was only taken in by shaw because he bended the gate so we just got to hope he survived the ‘average’ camp experience
although nothing about the holocaust is average
it could be likely he still becomes a n*zi hunter just without the advantages of his mutation
or he just tries to live his life after that insanely traumatic experience
who knows but basically its unlikely these two will ever meet unless we pull out a romance movie type meet cute thing
now onto the actual xmen starting with the first class mutants they’d likely still live their average lives in hiding (and alex in solitary confinement)
jean would likely be going through foster systems until she’s old enough to live on her own or she gets adopted but without the shields charles put in place her powers would likely take over her and she might end up causing a lot of harm to a lot of people
storm would either been in cairo still or somewhere else but if we’re focusing on the movie timelines, her power would be very minimal
she would likely grow up living on a thief’s wage until she finds something else to do with her life (i wouldn’t know what honestly)
scott would be walking around blindfolded 24/7 as he didn’t have hank to make his glasses for him. if alex continued to stay in solitary confinement he probably had no one to feel connected with
logan would still be fitting into his ‘wild animal’ thing and just moving around bar to bar trying to find something worth doing in his life
rogue would likely of died in the van explosion
a lot of the mutant kids living in the x-mansion wouldn’t have a place to call home and the majority of them would be living on the streets getting persecuted
there would be no brotherhood OR xmen to stop humans from wiping out mutants completely
sure maybe some mutants rise up to make they’re own groups but they likely don’t have the influence of a rich old white guy
crazy how much impact these guys have on the world
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both with they’re influence on mutants AND their insanely dramatic romance that lives across the ages
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wildsaltair · 2 months ago
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this is the Mona Lisa to me
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elizabethrobertajones · 1 year ago
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I'm actually kind of mad after wearing a knee brace (with patella support!) for 2 days because I just went down for breakfast not wearing it and my kneecap was wobbling loosely in its socket like it's done for years and I could FEEL how wrong it was and just had the biggest "you LIVE like this??!" moment and now i GUESS I am wearing a knee brace every time I go near stairs forever because it turns out it's not ideal if parts of your body have their own plans for every joint movement.
Mobility aids <3
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aria0fgold · 5 months ago
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I just realized that I now have two princesses male characters in hsr that puts one of their arms behind their back and adds a field effect to the battle. I'm going to be collecting two more on the side then to have a full team of princesses em.
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gottagobackintime · 2 years ago
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"Is he here?" "Who?" "Oh, don't give me that. I've seen the way you look at him. My husband, that's who." "Lomper?" "Oh, so you do know." "Mate, you just told me." The Full Monty Episode 4: Homing
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joestarfucker420 · 11 months ago
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going from being ashton all week to being my legal name again is honestly one of the worst feelings in the world
#ashtonstfu#also i either have to quit my job and move to illinois with my parents in like less than four months or uh hope i can find a job that can#support me AND a place to live based off that salary before they move and honestly#i’d rather fucking die than have to move with my parents but i have zero job prospects so#idk i guess i’ll just hope i die in my fucking sleep#and like i can’t blame my parents like i know it’s a good paying job my dad has and like he likes the area but like#CAN YOU FUCKING GIVE ME TIME#i won’t even offically have my degree til like may even tho i’ll be done in march#i’ve applied to literal hundreds of jobs but since my skills aren’t the best cause i don’t have any real world experience no one wants to#even interview me or train me or ANYTHING and the only way to get better is my practicing but i need more structure or something and if#someone would just be willing to train me at a fucking job i could do it!! but no one wants to do that except fucking sales jobs and i cant#do that shit again it is soul crushing#anyways i’m gonna have a full on mental breakdown cause uh#i’m too fucking overwhelmed i don’t have anything and i can’t move with them it’ll be a nightmare#if they would just slow the fuck down i might have a chance but we have a fucking realator coming thursday and i have so much shit to clean#i don’t know what the fuck i’m supposed to do#even if by some miracle i get a job i have no credit and no money so fuck finding a place to live#it’s impossible#i’m gonna go throw up probably
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foldingfittedsheets · 11 months ago
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Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.
When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.
When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.
In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.
If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.
“Could I get a bag….?”
There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.
I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.
The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.
The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”
“There’s no bags?”
“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.
He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”
When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.
“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”
I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.
If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".
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chuluoyi · 5 months ago
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𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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- zayne x reader
as dawn breaks, a new chapter begins. now husband and wife in the truest sense, both of you embark on the path of happiness together. yet, bittersweet loose ends remain still. will they eventually stay in the past for good, or cast a permanent shadow over your lives?
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy & sex, mentions of complications related to pregnancy, brief description of childbirth (c-section), hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here)
note: part 2 to nocturne of twilight. my god, i honestly didn't expect it'd turn out into another 8k fic but here we go :')
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Lately, Zayne has come to realize just how much joy you bring to home when you’re happy.
Your smile and giggles simply light up the place.
And moreover, you get happy at the simplest of things—head pats, his snowmen... Even when he responds with jabs just to get a rise out of you, there's always a part of his heart that softens.
Today began just like one of those joyful days. He dropped you off at the Hunter Association base before heading to the hospital, and later, he planned to pick you up and perhaps stop for macarons on the way home—
Or so he thought, until...
"Hello, Dr. Zayne! Sorry for startling you. Can you come to my office? Your wife just collapsed and she is brought here."
. . .
Zayne raced to Dr. Munson's office on the third floor, panic gradually overtook his every step. His mind whirled with all the possible reasons you might end up at—
Ob-gyn office. Wait, what?
The realization struck him just as he flung open the door to his colleague’s office.
"Ah, the man of the hour has arrived!" Dr. Munson greeted him with an ear-to-ear grin.
Zayne gave a quick nod but bypassed him to head straight to the bed where you were.
You looked pale and sluggish, your eyes squeezed shut. He immediately took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, and you opened your eyes in surprise to see him there.
"Zayne..." you murmured, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and offering a faint smile.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he gently touched your cool cheek.
"A bit dizzy..."
Seeing you so meek made something inside him lurch. Just this morning, you had been full of life, pouting and playfully teasing him, and now you looked so exhausted.
"Well, maybe you already know this, Dr. Zayne, but still, congratulations!" Dr. Munson clapped his hands merrily. "Your wife is pregnant!"
Pregnant. Zayne stood frozen for a moment. In truth, while the very thought flitted in his mind from the moment he walked in, it didn't make it less surprising all the same. "I see..."
Then he turned to look at you, and to his surprise, you looked away, a shy smile played at your lips, as if you were trying to make yourself as small as possible.
A child. You were with child. His child.
"How far along?"
"Almost ten weeks, give or take. Well, aren't you the one who knows the most?"
"Is she alright? Anything I need to watch out for?"
"Ooh! How sweet!" Dr. Munson laughed crisply. "The cool-headed Dr. Zayne is worrying about his wife! The nurses are going to have a field day when they know this~"
Zayne shot him a look, but didn’t miss a beat as he retorted, "Of course I am."
You looked up at him silently, your heart fluttering at his earnest response. Zayne had always been resilient, but now he seemed more dashing than usual as he fired questions after questions at Dr. Munson about you and the baby.
Baby... both of you were going to become parents. It still felt surreal, but with Zayne’s warm grip on your hand, it began to feel real. You were almost giddy.
But then, it struck you— the baby was around ten weeks.
Then it meant the day of the conception was that night.
. . .
“Here, hold onto me.”
Zayne opened the door to his car and supported you as you carefully stepped out. You were still unsteady on your feet, so he returned you back home to rest rather than heading back to the Hunter Association’s base.
“Have you been feeling unwell these past few days?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you made your way inside. “Usually, the symptoms have been noticeable for a while.”
“Hmmm,” you pursed your lips, feigning coyness. “I... don’t think so?”
Zayne quirked an eyebrow, sending you a withering stare as he realized your ruse. “So you have.”
“Hehe...” you flashed him a sheepish grin, causing him to shake his head in exasperation and pinch your cheek. “Ow!” you squeaked, quickly bringing your hand to your face.
Zayne stifled a smile, then gently guided you to the sofa. He crouched down in front of you, meeting your gaze as he took both of your hands in his.
"You need to tell me these things from now on, alright?" he said, and his steadfast gaze made butterflies flutter in your stomach.
"We..." you started, steeling yourself, "are going to have a baby," you gulped, feeling heat spreading to your cheeks.
He was unfazed. "Mm, we are."
You shifted uneasily, avoiding his gaze. "Are you... happy?"
Your voice wavered at the end, and your hand felt clammy. Suddenly, your stomach too twisted with nausea. Who would've thought that you would conceive a baby from a night that he called a mistake?
However, Zayne tilted his head, seemingly taken aback. "I am."
"Huh?"
"I am happy," he repeated, blinking back at you. "Are you?"
You gaped, caught off guard by his candid response—but then again, when had your husband ever been anything but straightforward?
"But you don’t seem happy!" you accused, pursing your lips. "You’ve been frowning the whole way home."
He shot you a flat look, his expression unchanged. "This is just my face."
You continued to pout, and Zayne sighed. His frown softened as he gently cupped your face, making you look up at him.
"You silly girl, what husband won't be thrilled when they hear that his wife is expecting?" he caressed your face, before poking it. "I'm just worried about you, you still look pale."
"You..." your eyes found his uneasily, at a loss of words. "But this baby is…" Your gaze dropped, anxiety swelling. "From… the night of—"
Your response stunned him, and you didn't dare to look him in the eye. It was still something that gnawed at you inside, because what if—
What if he thought this baby is a mistake?
In that moment, understanding dawned on him. His ashen eyes widened in surprise. You braced yourself for his reaction, but then—
His hand rested on your head, patting you gently. "You carrying our baby..." he faltered, gazed fixed on your averted eyes and then lips. His voice came almost in a whisper:
"This... is the best thing that has happened to me."
Thump! Your heart soared, warmth flooding through you in that very instant as you met his gaze. On the contrary, Zayne felt a crushing weight seeing the tears shining in your eyes. How deeply had he hurt you before that you’d doubt his feelings?
"I promised you that I’ll treasure you better," he said, pulling strands of your hair behind your ears. "This time, let me prove it to you."
Somehow you felt like crying at the sheer sincerity in his words. "You... like the baby?"
A gentle smile touched his lips as he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "I do. Truly."
"I... am so happy too," you finally choked up, the first tear slipping down your cheek. You quickly brushed it away, feeling a bit silly for tearing up. "I... have always wanted us to be a family..."
Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out an exasperated but fond sigh. "A certain someone really does like to cry... And now with a baby on the way, am I going to lose my mind worrying about both of you?"
"Hmph," you wrinkled your nose. "A certain dad-to-be better work on his skills to express himself better, then."
"I'm going to focus my energy on more important things, such as thinking of all ways I should do to keep you from getting into trouble."
"...? I don't get into trouble!"
"You stumble even on empty air, I've seen it myself."
Two years ago, you had envisioned your happily ever after with him, and then you weren't sure if you would get it at all. And now, as you walked towards a new beginning together, you were wholly certain.
At least, that was what you thought.
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The days following the reveal of your pregnancy were filled with bliss.
Only that, sometimes... you ask for tall order—
"Zayne... I want that plushie..."
"We have tried it three times already. That machine is rigged."
"B-but! Look, that couple won some!"
Some weeks later, the two of you were at an arcade, and your eyes were literally shining as soon as you saw the Happy Snowman plushie in the claw machine.
And ever since, you had been tugging at his sleeve and dragging him to catch it for you... only to no avail so far.
Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. "With the way you’re acting, no one would believe you’re about to become a mom."
"Isn't that the whole point?" you fired back, puckering your lips, before mustering your best puppy eyes and bringing your hands together. "Please? Baby wants it so much."
He knew you were using the baby card just to get your way, but you looked so adorable doing it that it often worked—evident from how he lined up once more for the long queue at the claw machine.
"This is the last time," he decided, giving you a flat stare when you two reached your turn. "If we lose, we're buying the one in the souvenir shop."
"Teehee~" you giggled in delight. You'd get your plushie either way. Zayne was always listening to you even with his grumbles, and it made you inwardly kick your feet in joy.
Despite being cross, Zayne was better at this than you. He almost snagged some plushies several times, and this time, he skillfully maneuvered the claw, pressing the button with precision—
“Oh!” Your eyes sparkled as the claw secured your prized Happy Snowman. “Zayne! Just a little more!”
"Yeah, yeah..."
Just like that, the claw released the snowman into the hole. As soon Zayne handed it to you, you practically squealed. "Ahh! Finally I got you!"
You were so full of childlike excitement, even though you were just months away from bringing a child into the world yourself. Zayne watched you silently, and despite himself, a soft smile tugged at his lips.
"Do you want more?" he asked. "We still have three chances left."
"Yes!" You beamed at him. "I want the penguin and crow!"
Apparently, he was weak to your wishes. He then took the machine again, and maybe luck blessed him this time because soon enough, he got you two of them right after the chances ran out.
“Hehe! We’re bringing them home!” You patted each plushie with delight, your giggles drawing the attention of nearby kids.
"Mom, look! That uncle gets many plushies!"
Zayne felt his eyes twitch. Uncle...?
You tried and utterly failed to hold back your laugh.
And you heard another couple bickering nearby as they threw glances at you and your husband—
"I want that crow plushie..." the woman lamented, despondently eyeing the claw machine and the three plushies Zayne had managed to win for you.
Her boyfriend, a scary-looking tall man with red eyes and rider garbs, turned to her with a snort. "Why would you even need that ugly crow for? We have crow at home."
"...Mephisto doesn't count! You're just saying that because your luck and skill are trash!"
"Tch. I can open a whole arcade just so you can tear those plushies into shreds, sweetie... just so you know, there’s a price when dealing with a devil, hmm?"
Opening an arcade only to satisfy his girlfriend's wants? You thought in a passing. Crazy.
. . .
And then your emotions are practically a whirlwind of roller coaster...
“You’re mean!” you sniffled, pointing a righteous finger at your husband and the kitty cards on the table. “You always reduce my kitties whenever you get the chance!”
Zayne exhaled, trying to explain himself. “I just make do with the cards I’m dealt with.”
“But you’re trying to take out my cats all the time!”
“That’s the gameplay. If I let you win, you’d say I’m underestimating you.”
“So, are you saying I’m bad at this?” You looked at the cards with heartbreak etched on your face, your lips quivering. “Am I?”
Uh-oh, he knew what it was. You were a stone throw away from bursting into tears and one wrong word could set you off altogether.
“No, you’re not bad...” he began, carefully choosing his words. “The kitties... they’re just not cooperating with you, that’s all.”
“So, they’re cooperating with you,” you pouted, cross. “Is that what you’re trying to say?!”
Sigh... this is going to take a while...
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But ultimately... you’re also incredibly precious.
“I’m going to make an amigurumi for our baby,” you announced, smiling brightly as you settled between his legs with a crochet kit and a snowman pattern in hand. “I just know they’ll like it.”
“You know how to crochet?” Zayne asked, resting his chin on your shoulder and slipping an arm around your waist, gently touching your growing bump.
“Hmph!” You tilted your chin up with a smirk, turning to face him. “Of course, I can!”
“Oh…?”
“It’s a little side hobby,” you explained with a giggle. “I can’t resist having and making cute things~”
Zayne thought he’d laugh, but instead, it was a wave of bittersweetness that washed over him. Because apparently, even after being married to you for two years, there were some things about you he didn’t know.
He was fond of you. He knew you liked a fair amount of sweets, what your favorite food and color were, and that you couldn't sleep without turning off the lights. But then he realized...
"Does it have to be a snowman?" he asked, his eyes fixed on how skillfully you handled the hooks.
"Mm-hmm! It does."
"Why do you like it so much anyway?"
"Ah..." Your movements paused slightly, and you suddenly looked down, a hint of sheepishness in your expression. "Well..."
This way, you looked adorable somehow. Zayne squeezed you gently. "Hmm?"
"You might not remember it... but the first time we met..." you felt heat creeping up to your face but pressed on nonetheless. "I asked you to demonstrate your Evol and you showed me by creating a snowman out of thin air."
Right at that moment, Zayne could've sworn that his heart skipped a beat. That meeting... how many years ago was it? Five? Six?
He could barely remember it until you mentioned it, and yet you held that memory dear.
"Maybe it sounds stupid to you," you puffed out your cheeks. "But I think you’re similar to a snowman. You look cold on the outside, but you bring happiness to so many people. You save lives…"
The way you described him so highly made him flutter inside. Suddenly he felt soft. Soft for you. You were utterly precious, genuine and all this time, he hadn't even truly realized it.
"And to me, you..." you gulped, suddenly self-conscious. "You are... warm, just like the sun..."
The sincerity in your words touched him so deeply that it left him speechless. You had loved him and it was evident in all your actions.
Now the question is, has he done the same for you?
You brightened his life just by being yourself. Most of the time cheery, sometimes snarky, and often times decidedly spoiled... all those sides of you—
He adores them all. And he knows he'll treasure you until the end of time. And now, he's going to show you that.
Before he realized it, he had planted a kiss on the nape of your neck, and you sucked in a breath as you dropped the crochet hooks. "Zayne...?"
And then his lips pressed harder, trailing kisses along your neck, while his hands slipped inside your pajama top, caressing your skin ever so gently. The unexpected touch made you unwittingly moan.
"Can you... finish crocheting another day?" he breathed in your ear, cupping your breasts tenderly, and you almost jolted. "I'll be gentle, I promise."
It felt as if your face had caught fire, your whole body flushing with sudden excitement. Your heart raced wildly at his husky voice, and the very thought that your husband desired you was deeply thrilling.
"But you..." your voice hitched, trying not focus on his fingers. "...are never gentle."
Zayne blinked at you in surprise. "Am... I? That's not true."
"Should I jog your memory?" You pursed your lips. "One time, you threw me on the bed—"
"Well—"
"And that time you had me on all fours—"
"That's—"
"And the night we conceived this baby too—"
"Right. Alright." Zayne’s cheeks flushed with warmth as he released his grip on your mounds. "You might have a point, but this time, I assure you…"
He turned you to face him, and before you could even react, he leaned in close, his breath tickling your collarbone as he whispered:
"I will take good care of you tonight."
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He made good on his promise.
This time, his hands moved with a gentleness that took your breath away. Zayne started with peppering your skin in soft, lingering kisses—starting at your jaw, then trailing down your neck, collarbone, and chest.
And when his lips finally reached the slightly visible but firm swell of your belly, he paused, pressing a kiss there that seemed to hold all the love he had for your baby.
The sight pulled at your heartstrings. The very fact that Zayne cherished this little life growing inside you filled you with a happiness so profound, it nearly overwhelmed you.
And soon...
"Ahh... aah!" you writhed, arching your back, your lower body laid bare as his tongue lapped eagerly at your folds. It was, by far, the most erotic thing your husband had done to you— he usually didn’t spend this much time for your pleasure.
But as always, he was not much of a talker during sex. Only dangerous gleam in his eyes as he glanced up from between your trembling thighs that let you know he had no plans of stopping anytime soon.
"Ngh!" You gasped when the tight ball of nerves inside you finally burst, mewling helplessly as you yanked on his hair, and he ate you out even more greedily in response. You had always known it, but moments like this made it undeniable—
Zayne turns completely into a different man while bedding you. Who would have guessed that the stoic, straight-laced head of cardiac surgery could be reduced to a man consumed by lust at the sight of his wife's body?
. . .
He had always liked having you on top. This time, Zayne made sure to prepare you exceptionally well before easing himself inside you, yet, just like every other time, you still felt impossibly tight around him.
“Ah, ah... I-I’m—!” you whimpered tearfully, your walls clenching around his girth, face overtaken by sheer pleasure. “’s full...”
It didn't take him long to bust, really. With a beautiful wife sitting on top of him, eliciting sounds like that... how could he resist?
But maybe he pushed you too hard. Lust won against all his senses as he relentlessly slammed his hips against yours, and he distinctly felt the moment you stifled a scream and came hard around him.
"Are you... alright?" Zayne asked in a groan as he reached his orgasm, his release flooding inside your womb in a rush as you clung into him tightly, shuddering and spasming.
You nodded and collapsed against him, savoring the feeling of how filled up you were. In return, he cradled you close as he slowly pulled out of you. "I-I... am..."
You curled into him, and he pressed a tender kiss on your head. In that moment, you truly felt that there were only two of you in this vast world.
Gently, he lifted you—one arm supporting your legs, the other around your back—and carried you to the bathroom to clean you up.
. . .
“Drink.” Zayne held the cool glass of water to your lips, and you obediently took a sip, your gaze lingering on the gap in his bathrobe where his chest peeked out.
He was so, so considerate. He carefully handled you as he washed your body and wrapped you in the bathrobe earlier, soothing you each time you let out a whine.
It was the most comforting aftercare you had experienced. After making sure you weren’t parched, he tucked you under the comforters, joining you soon after and pulling you close.
“Are you comfortable now?” he asked quietly, straightening your hair.
“Mm-hmm.” You snuggled closer with a smile, tracing a finger along his chest.
Somehow the way he cared for you now made you remember how your relationship was back then. He didn’t dote on you this much, he was good to you but you knew deep in your hearts that he wasn’t really there. But now…
He is yours. In every sense.
“You’re tickling me,” Zayne tutted gruffly, catching your hand and pressing it to his chest.
“So? What will you do?” you teased with a playful grin. “Will you eat me up again?”
“…” His narrowed eyes made you giggle, and you pressed yourself even closer, relishing the afterglow.
You had promised yourself not to bring it up again, but feeling vulnerable in this moment, you couldn’t help but whisper:
“You… have changed,” you muttered under your breath. “Thank you… for thinking of me.”
You couldn’t see his expression, but his arms tightened around you suddenly. Warmth spread through you, feeling as though he were shielding you from the world itself.
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Weeks passed by, and soon enough, you reached the middle of your second trimester.
“We’re going to find out the gender today!” you excitedly noted in the passenger’s seat. Zayne glanced at you with a smile, silently looking forward to it too.
He was relieved that your first trimester had passed smoothly, with only a few bouts of sickness. Now, before he knew it, you were already halfway through the journey.
“If it’s a girl, I hope she won’t be a troublemaker like her mom,” he slyly retorted.
You shot him a glare. “And if it’s a boy, I’ll make sure he doesn’t spend all his time studying and turn into a robot like you.”
The journey to fatherhood still didn’t feel entirely real to him with your chirpy self, but as your belly swelled and rounded with each passing week, he began to realize that the day was quickly approaching.
It made him feel warm, and he wished he could show it to you better just how much happiness you brought to him now.
You rummaged through your bag and exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot the appointment card!"
Zayne sighed, turning the steering wheel with a small shake of his head. "See? The little mom can be so scatterbrained at times."
You slouched in your seat, crestfallen. "Sorry..."
"It’s alright," he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he noticed your expression drop. "I’ll get it. Where did you leave it?"
"In the first drawer of my vanity desk, I think…"
After arriving back at home, Zayne headed straight to your shared bedroom and searched through your drawers. The first drawer only had your perfumes, so he moved on to the second drawer, which apparently only had more makeup supplies.
And so, he pulled the third drawer, and there were a stack of envelopes there. Curious, he pulled one out, thinking it was the card he was looking for—
—but then, suddenly, he was in a state of shock. Never would have he expected to find what he had on his hand then.
For a moment, everything around him seemed to blur, his entire world reduced to those three stark words on the page. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, a heavy weight settling in his stomach as the realization hit him.
Petition of Divorce — and your signature... was there.
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Something seemed a bit off about Zayne, you noticed later that day.
You were really looking forward to finding out the baby's gender, and you thought he was too. He stood by your side all the while, holding your hand as the ultrasound probe pressed against your skin and you waited with bated breath for Dr. Munson to announce—
“Well, it’s a girl!” he declared with a wide grin. “Whoa, Dr. Zayne is going to be a girl dad, huh?”
“Oh my…” Your eyes sparkled with joy at the news. You were fine with either, but you knew Zayne had secretly been hoping for a girl, and you turned to him with pure elation. However...
“That’s… good.” His response was brief, and although he was smiling, something felt off. You had been observing him for too long not to notice—you knew when your husband was distracted.
What is he thinking? Despite yourself, you began to worry.
“Zayne?” you asked later, holding his arm as you both exited Dr. Munson’s office. “Are you thinking about work?”
He turned to you almost immediately. “No.”
“Then why are you frowning?” you asked innocently, trying to lighten the mood by touching his face. He swiftly caught your hand.
“This is a public place,” he said in a strained voice, causing you to stiffen at his tone. “I’ll take you home first.”
Something was not right. Now you were convinced and it started to bother you.
“Actually… I need to go to the Hunter Association's base first to finish my deskwork,” you said.
His brows furrowed even deeper. “Can’t you just submit your leave?”
“Ah... I’m on half-day leave today. I need to wrap up as much as I can before I go on maternity leave later.”
“Next time,” he snapped, his gray eyes locked on you, “Whenever you have appointments, take a full-day leave. You’re in no condition to be working, especially as you get further along.”
"Zayne, are you... upset with me?" you fired the question then, because it seemed like he really did, and suddenly you felt a bit sick at the very thought.
He was certainly not expecting you to ask that, and for a moment, Zayne froze, before he exhaled and his frown softened a bit.
“…no,” he finally said, his tone gentler. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”
But ever since that day, you knew something had happened to him that he suddenly he became a little distant towards you.
. . .
Zayne hadn’t meant to snap at you. If anything, knowing you were carrying a baby girl filled him with unbridled happiness.
But still, there was still a part of him that wanted to demand answers from you—that part of him that was deeply hurt by what he discovered.
In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t take it too hard. No matter how much he reflected on it, he knew he hadn’t been the husband you deserved. He knew his faults and understood how much he had hurt you. From the very beginning, you deserved someone who would see only you and no one else—and he hadn't been that person before.
Even with that understanding, he was left with an unresolved hollowness. You had doubted him enough that you were ready to file for a divorce once. It didn't mean that the same thing wouldn't happen in the future.
Does he have it in him to make you happy? He had promised you he would. While he wasn't the most affectionate, he tried his best, and he intended to keep trying.
But now, after learning this, he found that not only you, but even he too was able to doubt himself.
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"Zayne...?"
You peeked your head inside his study one night, several weeks later, a hand resting on your bump. You really didn't want to bother him when he just arrived, but you figured you had to tell him.
For the past week, you’d been throwing up, and it didn’t feel right. He had been at a symposium in another city since the start of the week, and you tried to wait it out. But today, you almost blacked out, and now you were genuinely afraid.
"Y/N?" he turned to you just as he laid his briefcase and the moment he saw you, he frowned at how pale you looked.
Zayne immediately stalked towards you and pulled you closer, feeling your neck to check your body temperature. His eyes widened in realization. "You have a fever."
"I-I... feel lightheaded today," you sputtered, clutching his arm. "And... I’ve been vomiting too..."
"I'll get you checked in at Akso," he decided, grabbing the car keys and led you out of the room by the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me in your calls?"
Very lame excuse, but you tried to defend yourself nonetheless. "It wasn't this severe before—"
"You should have told me." His response was curt, but his fury was evident. You almost shrank at his tone, but Zayne didn't reprimand you further as he helped you into the passenger seat.
The drive was tense and uncomfortable, making you feel even worse. The silence only amplified your anxiety, and it didn't help that you had noticed how distant he was lately.
"I'm sorry—" you blurted but then suddenly, you sucked in a breath, wincing and fisting your dress when you felt the start of a cramp just below your ribs. "Ahh..."
Zayne’s panic surged at your pained gasp. He gripped your hand reassuringly, all trace of anger vanishing instantly. "We’ll arrive soon. I promise you’ll be alright."
At that moment, despite all fears you had—for your baby, of his sudden shift of behavior—you held back your sob and squeezed his hand in return.
. . .
You would be staying at the hospital until all the test results came in.
Zayne sat on the chair beside you, gaze fixed on you as you lay connected to an IV drip in the private room. Though he tried to mask it, he was still shaken. He knew better than anyone that fever and cramps at more than 20 weeks often signaled something was wrong with either the mother or the baby.
The thought of ailments beyond his control affecting either of you made his chest tighten. He loosened his tie and let out a sigh, trying to ease the constriction. "How do you feel now?"
You looked at him, managing a smile as you replied, "I’m fine now."
Seeing you bedridden like this was something he hadn’t realized he dreaded until that moment, and yet, there you were, smiling. You... smiled.
He couldn’t understand why the sight he usually adored suddenly stirred this swirling anger in him.
Your answer seemed to hit a nerve in him as his expression darkened, and anxiety struck you again, twisting something in your gut. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before..."
His lack of response only deepened your unease. "Before today, I didn’t feel faint at all, so I think it’s just something I ate."
He still didn't deign you with any answer. Zayne’s apparent disregard for your words frustrated you, bringing you close to tears. "Say something..." you urged, feeling the tears burn behind your eyes. "I know you're upset, but now I'm scared too."
You really wanted him to comfort you. You knew the Zayne from several weeks ago would do just that, but now you had a feeling that the man before you now wasn't that same man any longer.
"We’ll see when the results are ready," he said then, facing you with a stoic, matter-of-fact tone, as if he were delivering a diagnosis to a patient rather than speaking to his wife. "Don’t fret too much. Have some rest."
Is that... all he has to say to you? A part of your heart withered at his detached response, the tears frozen in your eyes. What happened to him?
You were about to confront him for an answer when his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered.
"Hello? Yes, it's Zayne. Who is this?" he questioned flatly, eyes narrowed into a dissatisfied frown, before suddenly his expression lit up with understanding when the person on the other line introduced themselves.
You could hear the faint sound of a man's voice from his phone. And when Zayne addressed him, a sudden chill spread throughout your body.
"Caleb? It's... been a while."
You felt cold. Caleb. You never really knew him but you had certainly seen him. Once at a funeral, and once at your wedding. He too is Zayne's childhood friend, and more than that, he is the brother of—
Why? Why did all emotional suffering you had to go through, somehow or another, always come down to a dead woman who was once your husband's lover?
When he ended this call, you didn't even pretend to be considerate anymore. "What does he want from you?"
Zayne looked taken aback by your sudden hostility but answered calmly, "He’s in Linkon now and asked if we could meet."
"Must you really see him?"
"What are you getting at?"
"I don’t like it," you spat, venom clear in your voice, turning to him. "I don’t like it at all when you have to be involved with people related to her!"
Finally, you said it. You had never made it clear before, but this time, you felt like you were entitled enough to. You were having his daughter, and if he was still entangled in an illusion of his past girlfriend with you, then—
Zayne responded to your outburst with a suppressed sigh, visibly keeping his frustration in check. "He is an old friend, Y/N. You're too emotional right now that you jump into conclusions and stress yourself out."
He was right, your emotions were spiraling, but right now you were too heartbroken to care for it.
"Do you know what I fear the most?" you asked, tears shining in your eyes. At last, you voiced the dark, unspoken curse that had haunted you since the very beginning of it all:
"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."
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Zayne barely got any rest that night.
In the end, faced with your tears, he didn't respond because he didn't want to prolong the argument. More strain for you could put both you and the baby at risk.
Later, he told himself. No matter how much he berated himself for not noticing the signs of your illness sooner, or wanted show you that you and his unborn child meant everything to him now— later. He wouldn't risk you, and it would be better if you talk later with cooler heads.
Little did he know, that "later" would never come.
Numerous missed phone calls from the nurses station after he stepped out of the operating room sealed your fate. And when Greyson burst into his office, out of breath and panic-stricken, it was like being doused in scalding water.
"Dr. Zayne! Miss Y/N! Sh-she has just been rushed to ER for severe bleeding!"
Just like that, his world crashed and shattered beyond return.
. . .
"Dr. Zayne, I'm not sure how I should break this news to you... As a medical professional, you already know how serious this condition is..."
Everything was his greatest nightmare realized. Dr. Munson’s diagnosis struck him with a searing force, paralyzing him on the spot.
"Your wife has preeclampsia."
The nurses said you had been screaming and bleeding heavily. He too had seen it himself—the blood splattered across the pristine floor when he arrived, just moments after you were rushed to the emergency room—and the sight made a chill run through his spine in horror.
"She just experienced a partial placental abruption because of it. This causes bleeding in the mother, and also increases the risk of premature labor."
Dr. Munson’s explanation was crystal clear, yet it sent Zayne into a daze. It felt as if his chest had been ripped open, leaving him hollow as he stared numbly at your figure, peacefully asleep after the emergency treatment you had been put through.
Zayne clasped your hand in his, feeling the invincible knife lodged in his heart twist painfully.
You aren't supposed to be this cold. He gently griped your hand, his face contorted with agony. How terrified must you have been? How much did it hurt? Despite trying to push the memories away, seeing you like this brought back the nightmare from three years ago.
Only that this time, it was you. And not just you, but his unborn child as well. Both of you... there was a chance that both of you wouldn't survive.
The sheer thought made him stagger, because no, if it was the devil’s way to punish him, then it was beyond cruel. He had failed you once already, and he knew what happiness was by being with you, and to lose all of that in one blow—
"Zayne! Can you make me one more snowman?" you pleaded, your eyes sparkling as you pointed to the little gap between snowmen already perched on the window. "Just one more! It’ll make the line perfect!"
"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."
It was so, so painful. His chest constricted at the contrasting memories and it took everything he had not to give in to his spiraling fears.
With everything I have, I love you. None of it mattered anymore. The divorce papers, whether he could make you happy— what was important was that It was unthinkable to lose you now. He would trade his life if it meant sparing you, because the pain of losing you would destroy him.
You had always loved that little thing he made on a whim. He opened your palm and shaped the ice through his manipulation, placing the palm-sized snowman in your grasp, hoping it would protect you throughout the night.
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You remembered the excruciating pain, the primal dread of losing your baby, and the horrifying sight of crimson streaming endlessly between your legs, also how you screamed for anyone for help.
When you regained consciousness, the scent of fresh linen and alcohol was the first thing that greeted you. Dawn had already arrived, but the sky outside remained dark.
Your right palm felt cold, and that’s when you realized you were holding something. At the same time, you noticed the weight in your other hand—
Zayne. Your husband slept on the edge of your bed in such an uncomfortable position while holding your hand, his brows taut into a frown, only with a coat to cover himself.
He is here. You quietly watched him, and despite everything, you realized once again how much you loved him—even more that he was here for you.
Snowman… you stared at the little toy in your other hand, and overwhelming warmth washed over you at the thought of him creating it for you just before he slept.
The baby… what did you go through? Is she fine? You really couldn’t shake the feeling that something grave had happened to you.
You had to know. You pulled your left hand out of his grasp and caressed his face. He has to shave soon, you noted, feeling the stubble that had started to grow there. Still, you couldn't help but marvel at how handsome he was.
Your gentle touch soon caused his eyes to flutter open, and Zayne jerked awake, instinctively catching your hand. "You're awake..." he rasped, his voice rough with exhaustion.
He looked at you as if he was in disbelief, and immediately rose and squeezed your hand. You looked up to him, feebly asking, "What... happened to me?"
His face fell right that moment but you pressed on, "Tell me. I have to know..."
Zayne's reluctance was obvious, but the plea in your voice made him waver. Finally, he sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed.
"The test results have come back," he began, his voice adopting the clinical tone you recognized from when he spoke to his patients. "Your blood pressure is abnormally high, and there was protein found in your urine sample... These are signs of a condition called preeclampsia."
Shock marred your features in that moment, because you had heard what it was and what it meant for your baby.
"The only cure for preeclampsia is delivery. And at the same time the placenta has detached from the wall of your womb. This way, our baby—"
You had watched Zayne deliver devastating diagnoses to his patients before, and he was always steadfast. But this time, even his voice wavered.
His gray eyes seemed to glisten under the light as they held your gaze. "She's being deprived of oxygen and nutrients because the placenta can no longer supply them. You may also experience heavier bleeding, more cramps, and fetal distress. The best course of action now is to deliver the baby as soon as possible."
It felt like receiving death sentence. No matter how you looked at it, the conclusion was the same. "B-but..." you stammered, your whole body trembling, shaken by the enormity of it all. "S-she's just... barely twenty-six weeks..."
The way devastation bled in your voice pierced him. Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out a long, drawn-out breath as he held you close.
"I'm here," he assured, trying to console you. "You don't have to be scared. We'll monitor you closely until it's possible for you to give birth to the baby in around thirty weeks. I'll make sure of that."
The first of your sobs began. "...i-is it me?" you clutched at his coat mournfully. "Did I… p-put the baby into distress somehow— that it causes the placenta to fall away?"
"No," he firmly shushed you. "It's a condition that can flare up anytime. Don't blame yourself for it."
Still, how could you not? More than yourself, you feared for your unborn child. You sobbed harder, and Zayne held you even as his coat had started to dampen from your tears.
Your predicament broke his heart too, but at the same time, he found the perfect moment to finally show you the entirety of his heart.
"You told me you were afraid I'd come to see both of you as a mistake," he murmured, gently running his hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. "But how can our daughter be a mistake when—" his voice caught, choking on the words, "—when I've loved her so much already?"
The strain in his voice made you look up, and you were taken aback by the intensity of his gray eyes that bored into you.
“Both of you... are so precious to me.” Zayne locked his eyes with yours, sincerely meaning everything he said as he cradled the side of your face. “The thought that anything might happen to either of you... is unbearable.”
He pressed his forehead against yours, his voice hoarse, “What if… you continue to bleed and it leads to seizures? What if— you and the baby won’t make it? These are so unbearable for me.”
His words went straight into you, and for a moment, your tears receded as they sank in.
"I can’t give you my past." His voice tinged with melancholy, the expression on his face was torn. "But I promise you, at least in this lifetime..."
He gazed at you with the unwavering look you had fallen in love with, the same gaze you once admired from afar, long ago.
And then, his next declaration took your breath away and made your heart soar like never before. A wave of love surged within you, almost overwhelming you—
"Right this moment and my future—it's for you. For both of you, always."
From that moment on, you knew you would trust him completely. From that moment on, you finally let go of your doubts, knowing that you had nothing to fear with him by your side.
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Zayne was by your side whenever he was able to.
You were on bedrest at the hospital ever since, but he always stayed the night here to accompany you, barely going back to home for a change of clothes.
"You’re really making a snowman..." he remarked, observing your fingers and the crochet hooks he’d brought from home so you could keep yourself entertained. "I think you need to add a bit more fluff there..."
Your face brightened with a grin as you cut the yarn. "Don’t worry, I’ll make it extra round."
The weeks in the hospital dragged on, but they also gave you more time to work on your amigurumi. When you finished putting the final touches on it, you proudly presented it to Zayne—the snowman with a blue shawl and black hat, two little round eyes, and a beaming line of smile. "Ta-da! Look, it’s even cuter than the ones you made!"
A happy you was always the sight he loved to see above all. "Yeah..."
"Do you think she'll love it?" you suddenly asked, poking the snowman doll you just made, feeling warm at the thought that your cherished baby will soon play with it too.
You looked so endearing that Zayne felt an overwhelming urge to pull you closer. “She will,” he chuckled, giving you a reassuring pat on the head. “Didn’t you say before she will?”
And soon, you reached the thirtieth-week mark. The time had come to finally deliver your baby.
. . .
"I can't feel anything..." Your voice came out as a soft whine while you lay on the operating table, your lower body numb and obscured by the surgical curtain shielding you from view.
Zayne, standing beside you in a mask and headcap, grasped your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. "If you could feel it, you’d be screaming."
The C-section was the only way to ensure both you and your daughter would survive. It felt surreal to know they were basically cutting you open, yet you were unable to feel anything.
"Will... she come out healthy?" you asked your husband hesitantly, worried about your soon-to-be born baby. "I'm worried..."
Zayne glanced at you and gave your hand a light squeeze. "Don’t worry too much. You should be more concerned about yourself. Think of all the food you want to have when you get home, and I’ll get it for you."
You shot him a glare. "You make me sound like a foodie."
"You are a foodie."
Despite the ongoing surgery, Zayne’s lighthearted jabs were his way of easing your anxiety. Even though they irked you, you appreciated his attempts to lift your spirits.
And soon—
You heard a feeble cry, though quickly drowned out by the cheers of the surgical team beyond the curtain. You gasped and turned to Zayne, who was fixated on the tiny baby in Dr. Munson's hands.
He didn't even blink. It was almost as if he was spellbound by the sight. Nothing mattered because his daughter was here. Really here.
"Zayne…" your voice then broke the spell. He turned to you, who weakly smiled at him with tears in your eyes.
For the first time in your life, you saw tears of happiness glistening in his eyes as he stared at you— the woman who had just given him a daughter to love and dote on.
He immediately leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead. Your heart felt so full, even though he wasn’t able to fully express it in words. In that moment, you could feel his profound love for you and the new life you would embark on together.
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"She is so small..."
You pressed yourself as close as you could to the see-through glass of the neonatal unit, straining to get a glimpse of your baby daughter. Though you weren't well enough to walk three days after the surgery, you insisted on Zayne wheeling you over in a wheelchair just so you could have a peek.
"She’ll grow big soon," Zayne said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder when he noticed your sadness. "She’ll stay there for a few more weeks, and then we can bring her home."
However, your expression twisted into a worried frown as you watched the gentle rise and fall of your baby’s tiny chest inside the incubator. Even when he had reassured you that it was by all means just an unfortunate condition, you couldn't help feeling that it was your fault somehow that she ended up there.
She had his tufts of black hair, but you weren’t able to get close enough to remember her face clearly. The fact that you hadn’t held her in your arms yet made your heart ache.
"Mommy is sorry that she can't carry you to full-term..." you croaked out, lips wobbling, a hand tracing the glass separating you from your new baby, and Zayne inhaled sharply at the sight.
It hadn’t been easy, but you had made it through. Both of you had. And to him, that was more than enough. So, you needed to hear it too.
He crouched down in front of you, catching your attention instantly. You tilted your head as his hands rested gently on your shoulders.
“Thank you for delivering our daughter safely,” he said with the softest of smiles, ever so genuine just as you were in all times of the two of you together.
Your eyes widened a bit at his sudden gratitude, and when he took both of your hands together in his, gazed at you with such earnestness in his clear ash-grey eyes, and traced his thumbs over your knuckles, your heart skipped a beat.
“And most of all, thank you... for being safe too.”
Those words brought immense warmth to you, and the prettiest of smile lit up your face then at the way he looked at you as if you were his most prized treasure. Just like that, once again, he cast all your fears and doubts aside.
And deep down, you knew that with him by your side, everything was going to be alright.
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DPxDC prompt: Danny is Chronos' first child.
Well, not his first child biologically, to be completely honest.
It just so happened that the Phantom very often helped/helps/will help Clockwork at different times and his presence next to the titan required an explanation.
And the opportunity to call Zeus a little brother is worth a lot, right? So when the Ancient came up with this idea Phantom did not resist just to have such a pleasant bonus from their cooperation.
However, in the time of the gods and heroes, such a solution was not a problem. But in modern times, when Phantom tries to attract as little attention as possible in order to graduate from university, such relatives are more likely to cause a lot of problems.
~~~~~
Wonder Woman: Uncle Danny?
Superman, who wanted to chase away a teenager serenely strolling through still smoking battlefield, turns to Wonder Woman, who is waving affably at excactly this guy.
Well, Fenton honestly happened to be in Fawcett City by accident, and it just so happened that by chance it was on this sunny and cloudless day that the villains decided to cause riots worthy of the attention of the founders of the Justice League.
Danny: Diana! My dear, it seems like we really haven't seen each other not for a long time! In what century was it? Ah, I honestly, I barely remember it... The speed at which children grow up defies the laws of time. I mean, look at you! Your mother must be so proud. How's Dad? Still not paying child support, arrogant bastard?
Wonder Woman: Oh, uncle, please. I'm all grown up now, don't worry about me.
Danny: Hm, well, let's get back to this question later. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends. Anyway, would you like to introduce them, little princess?
Wonder Woman: Of course, meet Kal El, Batman, and Shazam. The rest of the guys have already returned to our base. Would you like to...
Danny: Ooh, you're talking about, um... What do you young people call it? The Justice League, right? During my youth, the heroes rarely united and mostly performed all the feats alone. It's good that you help each other, kids.
Danny flies up a little to pat Superman and Batman on the head.
Under the Diana's gaze full of hope that they will get along with her uncle, the men do not move.
In the background:
Red Hood and Robin who used to hang out with Danny near the Lazarus pits: *sounds of seagulls dying of laughter*
~~~~~
Flash: So you're Diana's uncle?
Danny: Yes, call me Danny.
Flash: Cool, cool...
Danny: What does the temperature have to do with it? Do you need ice? Let me make some for you.
Flash: No, it's like,um, I didn't know that Zeus has a younger brother with that name. So, it's good to know?
Danny: Hmm, thanks. Many people tell me that I look quite young, hah. But actually I'm his older brother, so...
Flash: Older? Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect.
Danny: No, it's all right. It's "cool". I rarely appear on the pages of your human myths and legends, I know it. After all this business about Chronos devours his own children, my father punished me for a long time. So, yeah...It's a funny story.
Flash: Punished for what? How?
Danny: Uh, sitting in a room at a time when there is no Internet or electricity is not fun at all. You see, I just didn't want a younger brother or sister because I was afraid that my parents would pay less attention to me. So, I made up this stupid prophecy and persuaded Gaea to tell it in order to remain the only child in the family. My father would never have thought that I would decide to kill him, that's why...Phah, it's just a bad family story. In 10 thousand years, we'll all laugh about it.
Flash: Yeah, that's... funny.
~~~~
Danny *is woken up by an emergency call from the League at three in the morning, although he fell asleep at two o'clock* (he gave his contact so as not to upset his niece): I knew this would happen! I knew it!
~~~~
Billy Batson *stands in his human form in front of the Justice League and doesn't know what to say*,*sweating nervous*.
Danny *enters the hall*: What's up, mortals, Diana and...Batman? My father said that there is something that I have to be here for. Oh! Well, at least someone in this family is also a shapeshifter. Have you decided to make a younger form so that your uncle doesn't feel lonely? What a good boy! Usually everyone is so afraid to seem like children, once they turn a couple of centuries old. Ah, youth~
Billy: Yeah, I decided to..experiment? and it seems I got stuck by accident.
Danny: It's okay, Uncle Danny will help you. Come on, let's go...
~~~~
Danny *teleports them to the Fawcett City*.
Billy: ....
Danny:
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Billy: Hey, I'm still stuck!
A new portal opens and a man in a purple cape hands Billy a note. "Go to Constantine. P.S., my son always completes all assignments only by half, sorry." written on it.
Billy: Oh... OoOhHh!!!
~~~~
Meanwhile, Constantine, who is forced to do additional work: Son of a bi... beloved and respected Master of Time.
Danny: Yeap, that's me.
Constantine: Damn it. Couldn't you just let Batman adopt him like in other timelines?
Danny: And where's the fun in that?
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smokingsoothesthesoul · 24 days ago
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# DREW STARKEY — LIVE TALK SHOW
ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ ────୨ৎ──── drew’s first time on a talk show, which just so happens to be jimmy fallon’s and he’s known for scheming. he surprises drew starkey with his celebrity crush. which just so happens to be you.
ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ — pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey !
author’s note: please show some love, also this is my first time posting on here, and i don't know how good my one-shots are. enjoy!
word count : 1.8k
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you were known for being one of the most famous actresses sought after. they’d been right for it, your acting was phenomenal. as much fame as you had, you never really let it get to your head, knowing where you had come from was the most important thing to you. 
not only that but you were also known for the activist and humanitarian organizations you’d created or supported alongside other celebrities, like angelina jolie, phoebe tonkin, daniel craig, etc.
so when daniel craig’s managers reached out to you it wasn’t a big surprise, apparently they had been reached out to by a talk show if they could invite you along as well. knowing daniel was more than glad to pass the invitation along, you accepted. 
you wondered why they’d want you there seeing as queer had just premiered, and that had nothing to do with you
drew had been nervous, he’d be on a talk show, but nonetheless he was a wreck. it took him forever to decide what he’d be wearing, ultimately deciding on a charcoal grey, and white tux with a black tie. he hoped his outfit would be fine for the show.
as he waited backstage for his introduction he paced around nervous, spinning his gold ring on his finger, an anxious tic he had. 
before he knew it, he heard jimmy fallon, “ladies and gentleman, let’s welcome the man everyone's been talking about, he’s rising to fame, the one and only drew starkey!” he announced as drew walked out and shook hands with the bodyguard on his way to the main set. 
hearing the loud cheers and roars of everyone was amazing and he couldn't help but be shook to his core, never in a hundred years would he have expected this. 
he waved to everyone as he made his way over to jimmy and shook his hand, before he proceeded to sit down in one of the couches.
“so drew we’re glad you accepted our invitation, isn’t that right?” jimmy asked the audience, before they all roared in agreement.
“i’m honored, thank you for inviting me.” drew replied confidently, knowing he was nervous inside.
“so we know you’ve been chasing gold for about four years, and now you’re in a queer relationship with daniel craig, james bond, which has premiered if i’m correct?” jimmy asked, knowing the answer but trying to build up the conversation.
“yes, out in theatres about a week ago.” drew replied. 
“how did that transition work, you know, from filming a show where you don’t really have a romantic relationship until recently to a full blown queer relationship?” jimmy asked curiously.
“honestly, a bit overwhelming and a lot of anxiety from my part. not more so because of the transition but just because i knew i had to ace this role. getting the opportunity to work alongside daniel craig and for luca guadagnino was truly the opportunity of a lifetime. whatever time it was, i knew i had to give it my all. sometimes i doubted my performance but daniel helped me and gave me advice whenever i needed it,” drew replied, while he felt himself relaxing a bit as he got comfortable enough to share personal details.
“there was even a time where,” drew began before lightly biting his lip amused at the story daniel shared with him, before continuing, “daniel told me of an experience he had with another co-star. basically when you first film scenes and most of all when they’re scenes like we were filming, the first day on set really is just practice. not reading lines, but actually practicing how certain scenes will go. in our case mature scenes were what we focused on at the beginning seeing as we’d be testing out our chemistry.”
“anywho the point is that once we were literally in the middle of a bed scene, nothing too explicit, and daniel chuckled when i fucked up a line because instead of saying ‘we can’t be doing this’ i said ‘we shan’t be doing this.’ he literally rolled out of bed and said he had to take a breather, i was confused, i mean we fuck up lines sometimes but never enough to call break,” drew explained.
“yeah normally that doesn’t happen, i would’ve been nervous,” jimmy commented.
drew laughed and nodded his head, before continuing, “i was dying of anxiety in the inside, i was like did i fuck up this badly. and i guess daniel could see it written on my face, which is when he walked over and explained how in his last role the same thing had happened with his co-star. and i couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and literally said, ‘thank fuck’ to which he laughed at as he walked away to get a water.”
jimmy let out a chuckle at the ending of his story, and said, “oh my god i would’ve died of laughter too.” 
drew nodded as he swiped his backhand on his nose, a reflex of his, before replying “yeah i definitely would’ve too but honestly i was too nervous at the time, now i think back on it and laugh about it.”
“actually there was something i was looking forward to, with you here, let’s show this clip,” jimmy said motioning towards the tv for the audience.
before they knew it, drew was being interviewed by a reporter who asked who his celebrity crush was, ‘y/n y/ln’ he answered without falter.
as the video ended drew couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and turned to jimmy while he began, “is that still true?” 
drew knew the answer to that, and nodded, “yeah it is,” he replied confidently.
“we have a surprise for you if you look at the monitor,” jimmy said before motioning towards the tv.
if the world could swallow drew up whole, he’d let it. at that moment. because then and there on the tv, where times he’d stated his celebrity crush was y/n to interviewers and it was playing in chronological order.
as the video ended jimmy looked at him and playfully asked, “anything to comment?” 
drew couldn’t help but cover his mouth with one hand before sliding it down to reply, “genuinely that’d be mine if i could somehow reach her.”
“well who knows maybe one day you will,” jimmy commented supportively.
“unless i get the courage to actually dm her, it’ll be a pending matter,” drew replied.
“why the need for a dm? i’m right here,” you said after making your way quietly behind him signaling the audience to not spoil it.
at that moment, drew froze up, and instantly rose up from his seat but slowly turned around, not knowing if it was real.
as he slowly turned, you waved at him and slightly giggled at his nervous reaction. you waited for him to say something before you said anything else.
as you stood there waiting, drew finally caught a grip and let his charm play out even if he was a train wreck inside. 
“i’m drew starkey,” he introduced, stammering quite a bit. 
“i know,” you replied smiling.
hearing that drew’s brows rose in confusion, he didn’t expect that. he was a nobody and you were everything.
“i was invited to your premiere but i ended up in the er or else i would’ve been there, apologies,” you said, genuinely honest.
drew was lost for words, yet jimmy asked him, “drew you still there or are you too starstruck?” 
“mhm,” drew nodded, not necessarily indicating which one but they could all guess.
he couldn’t get over the fact you’d just apologized for not attending his premiere, gosh he was literally about to faint before he talked to himself in his head ‘get your shit together before you scare her’ which he proceeded to do, and extended his hand for her to shake.
“none of that, my mama taught me better than that” you replied before walking closer to him and pulling him into a hug.
drew couldn’t believe this was happening but reacted fast enough to not make it seem awkward for the audience, at least that's what he hoped and reciprocated the hug. wrapping his hands around your body.
as they pulled apart, you walked up to jimmy and shook his hand seeing as there was a literal desk between you both and greeted him. 
“jimmy it’s been a while,” you commented.
“glad to have you back on here,” jimmy replied genuinely.
“now that we’re dealing with a starstruck man, we actually have a few live questions, if you don’t mind answering them?” jimmy asked.
“of course, ask away,” she replied amused, wanting to know what was being asked.
jimmy read from his phone, “how does it feel to be drew starkey’s celebrity crush?”
“well honestly, and i quote, from the man himself, ‘i’m honored,’” you replied knowing drew was known for his replies of being honored.
next to you drew couldn’t help but smile amused knowing he said that quite a lot, he hadn’t been lying he really was honored. but to hear that you were honored he thought of you a certain way, well that was the most fucking honored he’d be in his life. before, now, or after.
“what do you think of drew starkey and his roles?” jimmy asked, reading off the second question being asked by the audience.
“well honestly, i’m definitely an outer banks fan. i’m glad he’s finally getting the recognition he deserved, i’ve been there since season one, people now are barely catching on,” you started.
as you replied, drew couldn’t help but feel touched at what you were saying. he really had just risen to fame this past year, with the new season of outer banks even though he’d been there since day one of the show.
“i’ll admit this new season and the past one that came out, i couldn’t help but feel a tad bit jealous that our local psycho was tied up and locked in with someone,” you admitted lightly, chuckling amused.
“for me this is a situation where i love the actor but hate the character unfortunately, because rafe deserved better, in this season four that came out. sofia betrayed him and genuinely frustrated me,” you explained.
drew couldn’t help but feel touched at how you were talking about his character, because it was something he’d poured his heart into. 
“one last question for both of you before we go,” jimmy asked before a drum roll sound came on to build anticipation.
“have we created a successful cupid match?” jimmy asked, to which the audience cheered, curious as well.
at that moment both drew and you gazed into each other's eyes, “only time will tell,” you answered truthfully, ‘but maybe we’ll get there’ you tried to communicate that through your gaze with drew. 
the cameras cut and now there was a rising to fame actor, holding out his hand for a famous actress to take. 
and that she did.
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on-the-clear-blue · 4 months ago
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Little idea wiggling about in my brain...
So like *holds Danny and Billy up by the scruff of their shirts* these two bastards won't leave my brain, and for punishment I will make them kiss...
Just, the Rock of eternity technically is Shazam's (the wizards) haunt? He has been dead for a long time, living only though his champion, what if Ghost King Danny gets slapped with a post it note that reads like
"Daniel, you're required to assist the Champion of Magic as the High King of the Realms, even Pariah helped the previous Champion Black Adam."
And Danny is like, "Sure, why not, Magic is real and so are ghosts."
And like....
Sparky Danny meeting Literal Sun Beam Billy, they are both 14, it's puppy love at its finest. Danny doesn't know what to do with gay panic and Billy is just straight up "This man is my soul mate, he shall be mine." (Call iy Zeus bestowing more than just lightning)
The leauge is very concerned why Captain Marvel seems to have a seeming underage partner.
Superman squinting very hard and trying to figure this out: So...just how old is Phantom?
Billy, unaware how bad this looks: Oh I don't know honestly, it's kinda hard to tell with beings from the Realms! Though he died when he was 14!
Superman, gripping the table (which cracks a little) :And how exactly long has he been 14?
Billy, taking out his phone and flipping out pictures: Like I said, I don't really know how old he is, but there is Egyptain hieroglyphics of him! Look!
Superman, blinking at the very real looking pictures: Ahh. Fun cool cool cool...a-and how are you again Cap?
Billy mindlessly swiping the photos, excited to show off his boyfriend:Never said it, but he is definitely older than I am.
(Danny is older by a month, Billy calls him an old man for it.)
Billy gets to live full time in Danny's haunt in the Zone, Danny built him like the best house, Tucker and Sam get to meet Billy and they just are flabbergasted that Danny "I can't get a girl to date me or else she ends up wanting to kill me" Fenton has a boyfriend that has been going steady for a few months.
My brain sees like, Maddie and Jack are 100% backing Danny, they are fully supportive of their bi/gay/pan son, but in no way would they support him if he was a ghost, like they are organizing Amitys first ever Pride parade, but there is a shoot ghosts on sight order.
And just the reveal is like...
Danny gets finally tells them he is a ghost: if you start shooting me, your shooting the only Gay person you know, not very ally of you mom and Dad.
Maddie mouth open in horror: Oh no...Jack are...are we homophobic?
Jack sharing her look of fear: Great Scott...Dann-o a-are you sure...its...it's a life style right? Y-you chose this?
Danny, trying very, very hard not to laugh: It's not a life style dad! I didn't choose to Die!
Anyway, thank you for coming to my brain word vomit, I haven't slept in 20 hours.
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ba9go · 5 months ago
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it's not winning (if it's not with you)
fluff 🐑🐑🐑 sfw
prohero!bakugou katsuki x prohero!reader, fem!reader (bkg calls u his wife), established relationship
"we’re joined by none other than the pro-hero dynamight, who has recently climbed the ranks to secure the coveted number 2 spot in the hero rankings! known for his explosive quirk and even more explosive personality, bakugou katsuki has—"
"they know who i am," pro-hero dynamight, your husband, grumbles. he's grumpy as ever, arms crossed and glaring at the news anchor, who shrinks away slightly in fear. "keep it short, i've got places to be."
you want to be mad at him for giving his pr team a hard time yet again, but your heart warms at his words. when he says he's got places to be, you know he means coming home to you.
"r- right! so sorry about that! dynamight, you must be ecstatic about climbing the ranks! how does it feel to—"
"always feels good to beat icyhot," he interrupts just as an image of pro-hero shoto pops up on-screen. katsuki flashes a smirk at the camera, and you can't help but grin. "can't say i'm surprised 'bout it, though."
"o- oh! right," the poor news anchor lady laughs nervously. "you must be ecstatic! congratulations on the big win, dyna—"
"nah, i haven't won yet," dynamight shrugs.
"oh. um." the news anchor lady looks like she's about to burst into tears and quit her job on japanese live television. she flashes a worried glance off-camera. you wonder if she's plotting her escape.
you don't blame her, honestly. you're perplexed by katsuki's response too.
katsuki points directly into the camera, and you feel like it's directed at you even before he speaks.
"my wife's gotta catch up to me first."
your grin spreads, and you feel like you're back in u.a., falling in love with katsuki all over again. "challenge accepted, dynamight."
you fling yourself at katsuki when he comes home later that evening.
"number 2!!" you cry happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. "you're the best, 'suki. m'so proud of you."
"thank you, darling," katsuki grins a real toothy grin at you, and you know you're looking at a winner. despite his nonchalant act on tv, katsuki knows he's won. he's dreamt of this for so long. he's ecstatic.
katsuki cups your cheeks and rubs his nose against yours sweetly, before letting his hands fall to your waist. he smirks. "did ya catch my interview earlier?"
katsuki snickers as you roll your eyes and push at his chest playfully. "yeah, yeah. your wife's falling behind on the rankings, got it."
"falling behind?" katsuki's smirk drops as he raises a brow at you. "no, you ain't. you worked hard as always, number 4."
"i'm still behind," you pouted.
katsuki smiles at you as he pats your head affectionately.
"join me in top 3," katsuki says. it sounds like an order, a demand, but despite the challenge in his words, his tone is warm and encouraging, and his eyes are full of love.
you can feel it. he believes in you.
"next time, we'll be number 1 and 2," you grin.
"damn right. izuku can eat our dust."
🐑🐑🐑
taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07 @v3n7s @deimosjay @iguanahykhv @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @yoyolovesdaiki @busdriver-move-that-ass
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sliced-peaches · 2 months ago
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hit it off right
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Jeong Jaehyun x reader | 5.8k | friends to…?
After hearing about him for what seems like forever, you finally meet Jungwoo’s hot roommate. But it’s a lot more wholesome than anything else.
📀 now playing: say it - maggie rogers // decent - bas, amaarae // perfect places - lorde // dear to me - electric guest
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a/n: seeing Jae getting drunk with YoungJi did something for me. I miss him and it’s really hard being a military wife. this is part of a larger collection coming soon, so nothing spicy. pls enjoy~
mentions of: other nct members, bff! Jungwoo, alcohol consumption, marijuana usage, light flirting, honestly tho everyone is just shy and cute and silly
A few days before the party, you’d asked Jungwoo what kind of wine his roommate liked. Since it was a celebration, you figured you should at least bring a gift.
“He told me to tell you to not bring anything.”
“How could he even know?” You whine, incredulous.
“Because I know you and your habit of balling out on people who are being celebrated.”
There’s not much you can say to that. You are known to bring a nice bottle of something that suits the taste of the one being celebrated. You love to see the joy on someone’s face when they get a tailored gift.
It’s the least you could do for someone when you notice their hard work. It feels good to appreciate someone, especially a friend like Jungwoo. It’s only natural you’d extend the perks to his roommate, right?
“You talk to your roomie about me?” You coo, poking his cheek. Setting his coffee cup down, he nods, seemingly pleased to share this piece of information with you.
“In passing. I told him you were coming, that I invited your coworker, too. I’ve gushed about her to him a few times. He just kinda smiled? Not in a weird way. Like… I don’t know. He just stared at me for a few seconds. Then he said he was happy to hear that. So-“
“Sounds like he’s in full support.”
Jungwoo smiles, bringing the cup back to his lips. Then he gives you a sly look over the rim before he speaks again.
“He also asked me about you.”
“What about me?”
“I guess I talk about you all the time, right? I told him about your art, all the art shows you’re in. I’m sure I’ve shown him a picture of you before, like from that time we went to the beach.”
“You showed your roommate my bikini photos?”
His eyes widen and he starts to immediately apologize when raise your hands to cut him off.
“Wait. Did he like them?”
“He… didn’t say much of anything if I’m being honest.”
“Oh.”
“Which doesn’t really mean anything, honestly. Sometimes he just doesn’t have anything to say.”
“…okay that’s a little better.”
It’s hard to imagine Jungwoo living with someone who doesn’t talk as much as he does.
The way you two often communicate is rapid-fire, dramatic, occasionally riffing off the other’s jokes. He likes to share his thoughts out loud and use you as a sounding board. You like to ramble about abstract art ideas and the special interest of the week.
Trying to picture your yap king living with someone who probably makes three facial expressions a year (says Jungwoo) makes you wish you could be a fly on the wall.
“How much have I told you about Jae? I know he’s always out, or at work so….”
His roommate’s name is Jaehyun. All you really know about him is that he’s close in age to Jungwoo, he used to be really competitive m, and that he has a cousin somewhere in Europe. Not much else past that.
“One time I was over you showed me a photo or two from when you guys were in high school. I’ve seen him in your stories too.”
“You said he was cute! I forgot about that.”
You recall a guy with dark hair and a cute bowl cut, wearing the same basketball jersey as Jungwoo. When you said cute, you were referring to their round faces and goofy hair cuts. The more recent pictures on Instagram were usually from an angle where you couldn’t really see his face, but he was always dressed nice from what you could tell.
“He was! Little cutie stranger man.”
There’s a beat.
“Okay, so about that. He’s was cute but now he’s, like, super handsome.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, he’s hot. Bulked up, started dressing nicer, smells good. His jawline is insane. He should actually model. I didn’t know he was going to look like that when we grew up, you know?” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Damn, you ever told him all that?”
“All the time, actually. He’s so sick of me. At this point I’m just saying something that’s objectively true. You’d be lying if you thought he was ugly. So that being said-“
He whips his head towards you, you watch a plot and scheme form in his brain. His lips curl into something devilish.
“Careful not to fall in love with my roommate, yeah?”
You blink at him, two times. Three times.
“Huh?”
His words sounded like a warning, but it feels like he very much would prefer you do the opposite.
“I just feel like he’s someone you’d fall for.”
“You’ve never seen me fall for anyone. Not once since you’ve known me.”
“Exactly. Which is why I’m saying… I think you guys will get along well.”
“Don’t hope too hard, but I’m sure he’s lovely.”
Sighing, Jungwoo offers you a sympathetic look. You ignore it and instead check for any emails from the art festival you’re vending at later in the month. It’s not much help, as you can still feel his eyes on you.
“I think he’d be good for you.”
“I don’t think playing matchmaker with your friends is that good of an idea,” you clipped.
Right before you met Jungwoo in senior year of college, you’d been in a relationship that ended pretty badly. You were in love, and you think he was, too. At one point at least.
But when things run their course, and you stay in them too long, they start to drain you of everything.
You’d lost a lot of time and energy trying to be pretty enough, interesting enough, desirable enough to keep the spark alive. To keep his attention. But to no avail. It was like he was just waiting for you to leave.
After a while, feeling empty and settling for whatever he could toss your way was too much to bear. It was just time to let go.
It was hard when at the end, you realized he just didn’t love you like you loved him. But was too scared himself to be honest with you about it.
Heartbreak was one thing, but grieving a relationship that wasn’t all that real was another. It took you a long time to move through that pain.
Jungwoo watched you put a lot of effort into rebuilding your personality, your self worth, your confidence. He was nothing but supportive, as were your other friends, dragging you to every show in the city, joining you at a new cafe or listening to your new ideas about art you’d been neglecting. And Jungwoo’s friends were a wonderful addition to your life, as well.
It was beyond being choosy- you’d taken yourself out of the dating game altogether, focusing on work, art, your friends. Yourself.
Now you were very careful not to let anyone in and disrupt that. It’s been a beautiful life to fall back into; you’d hate to lose it to the wrong person.
Jungwoo is nothing but understanding still, squeezing your arm instead of pushing any further.
“Well, regardless, I know you’ll get along well. Even as friends.”
You roll your eyes at him, a small smile creeping back onto your face.
“Don’t look into his eyes, though, seriously. He’s something else.”
On the trip over to Jungwoos apartment your friend tells you about her day, catching you up on some work gossip and her roommates string of interesting dates.
She laughs at how engrossed you are in her words, loving how excited you are to listen to the tea. You’re asking questions, connecting dots. The entertainment is delicious.
“I’m never on shit, so I’m living vicariously through you guys,” you sigh.
“We’re on shit tonight! I’m excited to party with Jungwoo.”
You flit your eyes over to her. “Yeah?”
“Girl, yes. He seems like a good person to party with. He’s always so bubbly and sweet when we go out for coffee, and always supportive of you so he’s good in my book.”
You wish she knew why you were smiling so big.
“He is a sweetheart, and a wonderful friend. I feel like you guys will get along well, I’m surprised we haven’t all gone out before.”
Pulling your phone out, you open your camera to check for a lipgloss reapplication when text from Jungwoo comes through.
woo-ah: 🎶 what’s ur ETA?🎵
“C-can I be honest with you?”
Immediately you lock your phone, adjusting your body to give her your full attention.
“Of course you can.”
She glances towards the driver, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth like she’s telling you a juicy secret.
“I think he’s gorgeous.” Her cute confession has you both giggling like schoolgirls in the back of the rideshare. “Don’t tell him, please!”
“Babe, your secret is safe with me.” You pinch your fingers together, pretending to zip your lips. “You wanna hear a secret?”
Her eyes widen in anticipation.
“I think he thinks you’re cute, too.”
“Shut up, no way!”
“Let’s just say I have insider info.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
you: appx 4 min 🤠
woo-ah: 🪩🕺🫶🏼
You lock arms with your friend as you lead the way into the apartment building, being here enough times to know what floor and that the right elevator is faster than the left.
She’s talking about the book her roommate just recommended her as you get to Jungwoos floor. You even ask her to send you a text, saying that she should start a bookclub as you rap your knuckles on the door.
Jungwoo opens the door, moving to hug you both and welcome you into the apartment.
“Come in, come in!”
Music is playing from a speaker, and a chorus of voices comes from the living room.
You walk ahead of Jungwoo and your friend, who are exchanging thank you’s for invitations and gifts of alcohol, and a chorus of voices welcomes you in the living room.
Doyoung and Donghyuck practically race and slide around in their socks to hug you and kiss you on the forehead and you pull them in for a haphazard group hug.
“Long time no see!” Doyoung clasps his hands together. “It’s so nice to have us all together at one time.”
“What a mom, we’re here to get shitfaced.” Donghyuck teasing Doyoung is secretly something you live for, but you pretend to defend Doyoung from him.
“Let us get a few drinks in before you start shit talking him, damn!”
The guys make sure you’re introduced to the rest of their friends, the ones you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. You’ve heard all their names in conversation, usually when talking about some social event or fun times they had back in school. It was wonderful to finally put names to faces, and they were more than happy to do the same for you.
“Jungwoo finally brought you around!” Renjun and Jaemin cheer. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”
You blush under all the affection from them.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you guys.”
“Come on, you have to try the cocktail YangYang made.”
Dragging you into the kitchen, you’re flooded by more introductions, jokes and insanely loud laughter, and it feels like you’ve been doing this for years with them already.
YangYang passes you a glass, a sliced lemon garnishing the side and all. You take one sip, then immediately take another. “Wow, this is delicious. Thank you!”
“There are three kinds of liquors in there,” he says, shooting you an apologetic look. “All light, but they told me I had to get everyone drunk, so-“
Before he can even try to apologize, stop him.
“That’s my kind of drink, then!” And you propose a toast with whoever’s in the kitchen.
The cheers begin to die down when someone walks into the kitchen.
Jungwoo has a lot of attractive friends. You knew this from the jump. He’s a model, he had model friends, friends who were in entertainment and the arts. From seeing whoever was on his Instagram story every few weeks, to getting drinks with everyone else occasionally, you’d gotten very used to being surrounded by pretty men.
Jungwoo did not prepare you well enough for Jeong Jaehyun.
“It’s our boy! Congratulations!”
The kitchen erupts into more greetings and well wishes as the man of the hour had just arrived. You sit back as everyone moves into pat him on the back, hug him or, like Donghyuck, kiss him right on the cheek.
Everyone’s voices just turn into background noise as you take him in.
He smiles the most beautiful smile you’ve ever been blessed enough to witness, and you have to force yourself to take a large sip of your drink so not to gawk at him.
Renjun and Jaemin motion for you to come closer, and you use the one solid second you have to steel your nerves as you step closer to them.
Jaemin slings his arm around you. “Jae, have you met our girl yet?”
Renjun playfully shakes his arm. “Jungwoo has been keeping her from us for eons.”
Jaehyun takes a step closer to you. He’s tall, much taller than you, so you have to tilt your head back to fully look at him.
And what a sight to see.
Jaehyun smiles again, a little shy but just for you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, smile so sincere and kind like he’s smiling at someone he’s known for years.
Extending his hand out to you, he wants to greet you properly. Shakily you place your smaller hand in his. But instead of shaking your hand, he uses both hands to gently hold it.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
The baritone voice almost knocks you on your ass.
Taking take a moment to will some confidence, some chill to come through when you speak, you swallow and push your shoulders back.
“You as well, Jaehyun. It’s been a long time coming, yeah?”
It’s taking everything in you to sound normal and relaxed, unfazed by this man.
He cocks his head to the side and laughs, his nose crinkling and smile lines that resemble whiskers making themselves visible. The sight makes your head spin.
“A very long time.” He releases your hand, and you place it against the side of your glass hoping it will absorb some of the heat from the exchange. “Thank you for coming.”
With your resolve expiring in seconds, you’re so thankful for Jungwoo making his way into the kitchen. While he introduces your work friend to Jaehyun, you shuffle out the kitchen alongside Renjun and Jaemin.
You sit on the armrest of the couch, listening to them bicker over what game the party should play first, remembering how to breathe.
Jaehyun quietly settles into a chair for one close to you, tuning into the commotion. He doesn’t make a move towards you, and you’re glad even if just for a moment. Out the corner of your eye, you take him in.
Handsome isn’t the right word to use, you think. He’s dressed clean and simple, nice jeans and a white t-shirt. The side profile is something unreal, perfect chiseled features but his face still soft and welcoming. His dark hair is slightly pushed back, a few stands falling over his forehead. He leans forward to tap Jaemin on the shoulder, complimenting him on ‘how big he’s gotten’ at the gym, with the younger preening under his praise.
Just in the short time in the same room, it’s clear that Jaehyun is like a big brother. And from what Jungwoo has told you is super sweet and caring. That alone makes you want to know him more, and makes him all the more attractive.
Looking over at you, he offers you a small smile which you mirror to avoid coming off as awkward. Noticing that you are both nursing the same drink, he raises his glass towards you for a small toast.
“To you and the summer,” you offer, raising your glass as you do so.
“I can drink to that.”
You take another large swig of your drink, hoping after the third your nerves can handle more than two sentences next time.
It’s silly, you think, to be this affected by a man. An attractive one, yes. But just a man. A friend of a friend, even.
Jungwoo’s words echo in the back of your mind, that he thought you and Jaehyun would get along well. Part of you doesn’t want to prove him right, but another part of you wonders if getting along with Jaehyun wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
So you try your best to start and make conversation.
“I heard about your promotion, congratulations!”
“Ah thank you,” he says, smiling into his cup. “It’s actually more of a career change.”
“Really? What are you going to be doing?”
He takes a minute to respond, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard in the first place. Before you can repeat yourself, however, he’s speaking again.
“I’m… writing music. Singing some, too. For me and for others.” He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll be working with Taeyong a lot, in his studio.”
Eyebrows raising, you lean in a bit.
“You sing, Jaehyun?”
“Sometimes.” He takes a drink. “I write stories on artists, interview people in music. Do some editing. The company I work for was really cool about letting me try different things, I really liked working for them.”
There’s a moment where you’re not sure if he’s going to speak again, and right when you think you should ask another question he continues.
“But I always wanted to sing my own songs, produce my own work. My current line of business has its perks, a lot of connections too. So I’ve been working on my own stuff on the side.”
You didn’t peg him as someone in performance- he’s so pretty you’re surprised he isn’t a model or an actor honestly. But he doesn’t seem to be anything anyone would think at first glance.
“That’s so exciting. Especially working with friends, I like Taeyongie’s music. And ’m really happy to hear you’re able to chase after your dream.”
“Thank you, I’m excited to share.”
He looks at you through his eyelashes as he takes another drink.
So we’re both trying to numb our nerves, you thought to yourself.
“I hope I get to hear some music from you soon.”
He casts another smile your way, and that’s when you know the liquor is kicking in because it doesn’t send you reeling this time.
“I hope you do, too. Soon.”
“Shots?”
Everyone gathers around in the living room, passing small glasses around to those partaking in alcoholic festivities tonight. You pass one to Jaehyun, who holds it up against the light.
“I haven’t taken a shot in a long time.”
“I got you the good shit, Jae.” Jungwoo holds up two expensive bottles. “Whiskey? Or gin?”
“Oh shit… let’s do the gin. Sticking with lights tonight.”
He asks for your preference, and you do the same.
Jungwoo opens the bottle of gin and pours the first round of shots for the night. After he pours his own, he holds his glass up for a toast.
“I know this is, like, the fourth toast of the night but it probably won’t be the last if I’m being honest.”
Taeyong groans. “I’m betting on at least seven in total.”
“Those are rookie numbers,” YangYang yells out, the younger boys cackling and suggesting higher numbers.
“Anyway!” Jungwoo bangs the gin bottle on the coffee table. “This is the emotional one. It’s the end of the summer and I hate to see her go. But we’re moving into fall, and falling into our new lives-“
Donghyuck pretends to yawn.
“Dude shut up, it’s just Jaehyun-”
“I’m not finished!” And he taps the bottle again, your head falling against the back of the couch in silent laughter. “Thank you all for being part of another summer and thank you guys for coming to celebrate one of my closest, oldest friends.”
“Literally.”
Doyoung throws a pillow at Donghyuck and motions for Jungwoo to continue.
Jungwoo turns to Jaehyun, who’s made his way onto the couch alongside you and your friend. “I’m happy to see you make your wildest dreams come true. I can’t wait to see you become the sexy superstar you were always meant to be. Cheers!”
The room is full of cheers and then groans from knocking back shots with no chasers, but it’s a pleasant burn as it slides down your throat.
You blow a kiss at Jungwoo, wiping a fake tear from your eye. “Your speech was beautiful. Very moving.”
The next hour is filled with mini beer pong (players had to sip water instead of alcohol, many thanks to Doyoung), stories about the boys time in school or how some of them met their partners, and shared soju.
The boys complain that he’ll cheat if he plays so instead Jaehyun shares a strong bottle of peach soju, his favorite, with you and your coworker.
At first, it’s very cute to just watch Jaehyun laugh at all of his friends antics. He enjoys listening, occasionally cracking a few jokes or making funny noises. But he’s more than happy to settle back into the couch and observe.
But he’s also big on being a good host, even if he’s the one being celebrated- if he isn’t offering you another drink he’s offering to grab something from the kitchen for you. They’re small but clear gestures to make sure his couch neighbors are as comfortable as he is.
He’s laid back and quiet but attentive- it has you swooning a bit. It’s a contrast to the rest of the men in the apartment, who are also sweet but characteristically loud and rambunctious. You love it, but it’s fascinating to watch Jaehyun hum and giggle to himself rather than dominate a conversation.
After you clear the second soju bottle and Jungwoo has wedged himself between you and your friend, you think you hear Jaehyun giggle beside you.
“What’s so funny?” You laugh, setting the empty bottle down on the coffee table.
He just shrugs, cheeks beginning to flush from the alcohol. He’s pretty like this, you think.
“Are you a silly drunk, Jae?” You tease, catching the attention of Donghyuck.
“Oh man, he’s gonna start getting real silly soon.” The younger man comes to sit on the armrest closest to Jaehyun, affectionately brushing his hair off his forehead. He weakly tries to swat Donghyucks hand away.
“I’m not silly,” he tries to argue, way too cute and whiny compared to the man you met just two hours ago.
“You’re sooo silly right now,” Donghyuck laughs. “She’s going to have to take care of you soon!”
His eyebrows shoot up and he tries to sit straighter, attempting to coolly settle against the back of the couch. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m-“
“Come get some air with us!” Jaemin and Donghyuck pull him up by his arms, with little to no resistance from Jaehyun. He just rolls his eyes as they pull him to his feet.
Jaemin cheers, pushing him towards the sliding door to the deck.
Looking over his shoulder, he nods at you. “Need anything while I’m up?”
You wave him off towards the door.
“No, I’m okay. Go get some air.”
With you beaming up at him, Jaehyun swears the room has gotten a few degrees hotter. The air will do him good.
Jaehyun finds you in the kitchen later, just finishing one of the cookies someone brought. You pass one to him and he finishes it in one bite.
“How many drinks in are you?”
“Shit… I’m at about four. Not including that shot.”
“I think I’m at about the same,” he says, shuffling closer to you at the kitchen island overlooking the living room.
There’s a moment of silence that you share, watching all of his and Jungwoos friends (and yours now) fill up the apartment with laughter (and some screaming- Renjun set Mario Kart up on the tv).
Your heart swells knowing how loved Jungwoo is, as well as Jaehyun.
But then it dawns on you that you haven’t seen Jungwoo or your friend in a while. Before you can mention that to Jaehyun, he bumps his hip against yours.
The alcohol might not have been enough to turn the alarms off in your brain yet, but your body is slow to react to him essentially snuggling into your side. He’s warm, and he smells warm too. Like a vanilla candle. There’s something else you can’t place, but it’s more than pleasant.
“I have to tell you a secret.” He whispers, and it’s cute and kind of whiny.
“A secret?” You say, barely over a whisper. He nods slowly, looking into the crowd.
He can’t see shit, in all honesty.
“I may or may not be a little crossed.”
“That’s what I smell on you?”
“Shit, is it bad?” Just like that, he’s a little more self conscious than he is silly. He smells his shirt in a few different places, earning a laugh from you.
“No, you’re fine. It’s because you’re so close that I can smell it.” He sighs and laughs almost at himself. “Is that where you and the boys went?”
“Yeah. I don’t usually smoke but it’s something like a special occasion.”
“Absolutely it is. You deserve it.”
He simply hums, letting a a few seconds pass before he speaks again.
“You smoke?”
“Weed? Rarely.”
“Cigs?”
“Not once in my life.”
“Good for you, we’re all nicotine addicts in here.”
“Vape away, I could never judge.”
At that you both turn towards the other at the same time, chests inches apart.
His eyes are low from the weed, the whites tinted red. He’s looking down at you, a silly, boyish grin on his lips. You can’t help but blush under his gaze, lips curving into a grin of their own.
“Thanks for coming tonight.” His voice is soft, barely audible. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning into him, wishing to hear him a little louder.
“Of course, I had to support the homie. And play wingman.”
He tilts his head back to glance around the room , the realization hitting him then.
“Oh shit, I haven’t seen them in a while.”
“Then I guess I did a good job. I barely did anything but whatever.”
He laughs, voice deep and rumbly. “You did great.”
He leans onto the counter, his arm resting closing to where your hip sits against the edge. He slowly shifts his eyes back over to you, looking over your frame. Just once, even his sluggish brain is careful not to get ahead of itself.
“I’m glad we finally got to meet.”
“I am too.” Your skin is on fire under his intense gaze. It’s not so much intense as it is just so warm, so amiable. You deflect to take some of the heat off of you, quite literally. “Jungwoo talks about you all the time.”
“Yeah? What does he say?”
That you’re so fucking handsome and I’d be stupid to lie and disagree.
“That you don’t say too much, but you’re a really good friend.”
A surprised look washed over his face, then he turns sheepish.
“He’s…… that’s sweet of him.” Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck, thinking on his next words as carefully as his crossed mind will allow him. “I’m glad you’re his friend. He needs someone like you.”
You tilt your head to the side.
“What do you mean?”
“Someone who isn’t as shy as him.”
“Haha, you think I don’t get shy?” It’s funny when you think back on how nerve wracking is was to shake his hand for the first time.
But he’s just giving you this knowing look now, a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his lips.
“If you do, you hide it well.” You could scream. Can he see right through you? “But seriously. You push him to do well.”
Jaehyun is slow to speak, but even inebriated he’s intentional. Something you’ve learned in just the past few hours about him is that it may take him a while to get his thoughts out, but it’s more than worth it to hear what he has to say.
You hang on to every pause like your life depends on it, eager to hear what comes out of his mouth next.
“Before you guys worked together, he was a lot more… reserved. And passive? Like, he’s good at everything he does. We know this. But… he never really sought recognition.”
“You’re right. But he deserves it.”
He nods while he thinks on his next words.
“Yeah. I remember in school he was just happy to pass and be included in things. Never attracted much attention to himself. Never wanted to be in the spotlight. But since working with you, he’s become proud of the work he does. His confidence has grown. He’s louder. Funnier. You pushed him a lot.”
“That’s all him, he works hard-“
“He does, you pushed him though. When he finally started modeling last year all he could do was say how thankful he was for you. How you encouraged him, helped him with headshots. Went shopping with him and made sure he felt good going into auditions. And it took off.”
Your breath catches in your throat.
“He… he said that? Really?”
“He did. You’ve been a very good friend to him.”
Blinking away the tears that started to pinprick behind your eyes, you smile at Jaehyun whose own eyes are filled with mirth. Even cross faded, Jaehyun’s words were so sincere and kind.
“Are you crying?”
You sniffle, using your thumbs to collect any tears in the corner of your eyes so not to ruin your makeup.
“I was gonna but I’m okay.”
He laughs that hearty laugh again and ruffles your hair. It’s such a small gesture, but so comfortable. Domestic even. Like you’ve been friends for years. It makes your heart even fuller than it already is and if he keeps it up, it’ll burst before the end of the night.
The alcohol coursing through you is doing nothing but spread this warmth, double time. Happiness feels good coursing through you.
“Let’s get some water, yeah?” He cocks his head toward the fridge. “Doyoung brought some sparkling water.”
You begin to follow him as he takes a few steps backwards. “What flavor?”
“We have…” He starts, opening the door to the fridge. “I can barely see. Wow.”
“Move, I’ll look.”
You hip check him out of the way, and hear someone come into the kitchen behind you.
“I’m no better, but this looks like ginger peach. And calamansi.”
“Pass me a calamansi, please? You want a sparkling water, Taeyong?”
“Do you think it’s a good mixer for gin?” He asks, loud enough for someone in the living room to hear.
Then, that someone yells out: “Another round of shots?”
Laughing, you hand Jaehyun his sparkling water, and pass a ginger and peach flavored water to Taeyong. “Let’s find out, yeah?”
More cheering is heard as you shuffle back into the living room and let Doyoung pour the next round of shots.
He’s a sweetheart and pours the shots right into you and Taeyongs cans, Jaehyun sneakily placing a sealed water bottle next to your foot.
It’s well into the night, the hour a single digit when the party starts to die down.
Jungwoo is in the loveseat for one and a half, your friend snuggled into his side.
You’ve found yourself back on the couch with Jaehyuns head resting on your shoulder and one of his legs swung over Taeyongs. Miraculously, Donghyuck has found a way to lay across you all comfortably.
“I’m going to order a ride home for us soon,” your friend says through a yawn. Donghyuck is already whining, earning some light smacks from the older boys under him.
“We’re so comfy, why would you want to mess up our cuddle pile?
“I’m not cuddling, I’m being leaned on,” you tease, grinning down at Jaehyun who can barely hold his eyes open. He’s trying his best to focus on one of your faces because he sees three, but he’s not complaining.
“Hm… my bad.” He moves to sit up, but Donghyuck just nestles into him even further, and Jaehyun can’t seem to muster up enough strength to (care) knock him into the floor. “I really… I really did try.”
Jaehyun has hit peak silly hours. From little hums and cute noises to the worst dad jokes you’ve heard in a while, you understand what Donghyuck meant earlier. Jaemin and Jungwoo even got him to cutely pose for drunk selfies earlier.
Laughing through your nose, you use the hand that’s free to reach around and pat his cheek affectionately. In this state he instinctually leans into your touch, humming in approval. You have to fight the urge to squeeze his cheeks. “Jae you gonna be alright?”
“I told you she was going to have to take care of you!” At that, he and Taeyong had enough and pushed him into the floor. He lets out a squawk as his body hits the ground with a light thud. “Fuck. It’s comfier down here anyway.”
Jungwoo slowly stands up, helping your friend to her feet. “So Donghyuck is sleeping here, literally right there. No blanket. I don’t want to see you using something weird as a replacement either.”
While the boys still present start to bicker some more, Jaehyun taps your knee to get your attention.
“I’ll be okay. Just got a little carried away.”
“You’re okay. Let’s get you to bed then?”
His eyes open a little wider, mouth parting to say something. You wait.
“Are you staying over?”
“No I’m going home tonight.”
He pouts, and it almost sends you to another dimension.
“Aw don’t make that face, I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay. Good.”
You call to Taeyong, who really isn’t that much better, but he does help you get Jaehyun off the couch and down the hall to his bedroom.
You let Taeyong handle the hard part of getting him out of his jeans and under the covers, heading to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. “Jungwoo, you have any painkiller?”
“In that drawer by the stove.” He stands beside you in the kitchen. “For Jae?”
“Yeah. You want any water?”
“Nah I was good tonight. I’ll be okay.” He purses his lips. “You’re sweet for that. Taking care of him.”
“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t do for you.”
“I know… exactly what I mean.” You shake your head and walk to Jaehyun’s room, entering while Taeyong exits.
“He’s decent, just whiny.”
“Thank you, I’ll just leave this for him then.”
You approach the side of the bed where he’s sprawled out, eyes barely open but you can see them following you even in the dark.
“Brought you some water. And some painkiller. Take it when you can, yeah?”
“Hm. Tell Jungwoo to give Hyuck a blanket.”
You chuckle and ruffle his hair before moving to leave.
“Have a good night, Jaehyun.”
“Hmm…”
unknown number: hey it’s jaehyun
unknown number: jungwoo gave me your number. thanks for coming yesterday. don’t be a stranger!
741 notes · View notes
silasours · 5 months ago
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ৎ⸝⸝⠀BELLY BULGE ! —
#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino x gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. edging. size kink. praise kink. sub reader. belly bulging. creampie. breeding kink. overstimulation. toy usage. mirror sex. #summary : hazbin men fucking so deep to the point where they can see and feel the bulge on your belly from their dick! wow, and it turns them on further!! #note : greetings and salutations everyone! i'm back (kinda) from my long ass close-to-three-months hiatus. i'm so sorry for disappearing so suddenly, and thank you so much for 1k followers while i was gone! have this and a few other upcoming smuts while i figure out on how to finish the alastor fic :').
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ʚ LUCIFER .
how many rounds has it been? you honestly lost count. your ability to recall memories from earlier tonight slowly slips out of your grasps with each deep thrust of lucifer's hips. the sole thing you're able to focus your mind on is the sensation that travels throughout your whole body every time he hits that one spot inside of you, the feeling of multiple fire spark burning through your nerves.
his breathing is as ragged as yours, his usual slicked-back hair now messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead. your fingers fist the soft pillow supporting your face on the wide bed that you share, whimpers and cries being the only sounds that pour out of your sore lips. lucifer gives a moderate playful slap onto your bare hip, earning a small whine from you.
"such wonderful sight, look at you." his hand slides from your hip until his thumb reaches to stretch your flesh, revealing white streams of thick liquid rolling down from your pulsing hole to your inner thigh, an evidence of your partner's previous releases filling you up full. he watches the way his seeds spill out with every push of his hips, when his dick takes up the space inside of you instead and forcing the liquid to be squeezed out.
his tongue pokes out to lick his lips, his free hand once again moving forward to wrap its fingers around your neck firmly. with a soft hum, lucifer pulls your upper body up from the previous position, now having your back press against his chest. you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the faint thumping of his heart through the layers of flesh.
you can barely feel your legs. they had gone numb from how long you've kept them up, the blood flow being reduced and now leaving you with legs that you can barely control by yourself. you gasp at the feeling of lucifer's length reaching deeper inside of you, the tip poking at places that you never knew one could reach inside of you. your hands moved by themselves and held onto whatever that can support your body on this new position, lucifer's ruthless thrust now increasing its pace without mercy.
he keeps a hand wrapped around your neck, holding you still while the other explores your body despite already left countless marks and touch on every inch of your body. your head tilts back to rest on his shoulder, moans and cries never stopped rolling off of your tongue as lucifer whispers sweet nothings into your ear. it was then he felt something he did not feel on your body before this.
curious, his thrusts slows down just a little as his eyes peek from beside your head, his hand caressing the bump that he feels on your stomach. he feels his breath hitch, realizing that the bump would poke out every time he thrusts into you. he feels heat spread all over his body, like he's growing aroused all over again despite the previous releases.
you hear him mutter something along the lines of 'you're so attractive' followed with a few curses. he harshly thrusts into you, digging his hips deep into yours while holding a hand of yours to the same area where your belly would bulge with every thrust. you feel the air of his breath hit your sticky skin as he snickers.
"be good and keep your hand here for me, yeah? we're going for a few more rounds."
ʚ ALASTOR .
"yes, keep going my dear. you're doing great." alastor's clawed fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips as you lower yourself further down onto his length. his words may sound like sweet praises, but his tone hides a hint of petty tease while he speaks. such an annoying demon he is, always teasing you by making you work yourself on him just so he could grab every chance possible to run that dirty tongue of his.
you grumble lightly, ignoring the smug look on his face as you pause your actions, earning a confused look from the demon laying below you. he allowed a short staring contest with each other until he got impatient with how badly he needs to feel your walls pulse around him. he mutters something incomprehensible, tightening his grip on you and forcibly push you down without warning to take in every single inch he has to offer.
your breath catches in your throat almost instantly, eyes widening in surprise and gradually rolling to the back of your head. alastor has an advantage, and he knows just how to use it in his favor. he chuckles at the sight displayed in front of him; you, the same person who had just tried to tick him off earlier now struggling to adjust to the size of his dick stretching you apart.
of course, he knew this is exactly how you liked him to play even though you never directly expressed it.
alastor completely retracts almost all of his length, leaving just the tip nestled in the warmth of your walls and watches you clench around nothing as if you're asking for him to fill you up again. your teary eyes glance down at him, unhappy at the fact that he's still playing tricks on you before letting him draw a loud moan from you with a sudden thrust of his hips.
your arms reach out to catch your body from the back, body leaning back. you struggle to keep yourself upright while riding him, your legs giving out easily as per usual. your hips rock along with his, your sweet spot constantly being stimulated because of how perfect this angle of position is.
alastor savors every reaction and sounds from you, his eyes twitching ever so often from how well you squeeze around him. the bulge on you belly catches his eye; his pupils shake with excitement, muscles pulsing at the delicious sight of the bulge disappearing and reappearing. his mind grows fuzzy from the strange enjoyment he never knew he had for things like this.
"ah, fuck." a clearly audible groan slips past his lips, his hips involuntarily buckles up as ropes of hot release paints your inner walls. his static voice seems to crackle slightly when he cursed which indicates that he feels good. really good. your heart jumps with excitement yet your body crumbles, the coil in your stomach snaps quickly after alastor's, pushing you into a moaning mess.
oxygen seems to have escaped his lungs as he pants for air, the back of his hand covering his eyes. the heat on his face is painfully visible even in the dark room you're currently situated in and the blurred vision you have from tears gathering around your eyes. you were about to move and cup his face to adore his blushing look before his voice rang through your ears, stopping you.
"ah ah, stay there now. keep putting on a pretty show for me. i'm still up for more of it, you see."
ʚ VOX .
"isn't the mirror perfect? my eyes never miss." vox laughs at his own playful comment yet his lustful eyes never left your reflection in the mirror. you advert your gaze from his hungry ones, unable to even properly look at yourself in the mirror without getting all flustered again. the clothes currently hugging your body is a sensual outfit that vox had specifically tailored for you, with the perfect size and design to his liking. anyone would be lying if they said you don't look luscious for eyes to feast on.
of course his comment wouldn't be on the mirror alone, it was mostly towards the outfit you're wearing. he hums, pulling your body closer to his till you're both tangled together in front of the big mirror, your back stuck to his chest. his lips sucks on the sensitive skin on your neck, kiss marks blooming all over like flowers during the spring season. hell, even the noises you make sound extra alluring tonight.
vox's hand slide down your body and presses firmly on your stomach, drinking in your whines as he presses on something bulging. bullseye. he recently discovered that you especially love it when he does this, and it also arouses him a ton.
"mm. you like that? wanna feel my dick from here while i fuck ya?"
a hard exhale leaves your lips as you nod, intertwining your fingers with his and allowing him to have total control over your body. he chuckles at the tightened walls around him before rocking his hips. moans spill out of your lips as he guides your hand to press against your stomach, making you feel just how deep he's going.
"eyes on the mirror, baby." you do your best to lift your eyelids and slide your gaze onto the big mirror set in front of you; vox's eyes glow like a hunter looking at its prey in the reflection, peering from your shoulder.
you question if it was the right choice to drag your lover out from the office he's always holed up in to shop at multiple stores today. he was reluctant at first, making up different excuses to stay in his office. 'i could just have them deliver to our doorstep, baby! we're rich as fuck, remember?' or 'another day, let me stay in today.'
if it wasn't because of how stubborn you were to drag him out even for a small walk, he wouldn't have agreed to go out with you and got a ton of stuff, including this mirror that's sitting by the wall, in front of the bed.
you feel immense embarrassment burning all over your skin from how you're completely displayed in the reflection for the both of you to see, yet your eyes lock with the demon's through the mirror. his smile is brutal. "there we go, now don't look away."
his merciless thrusts brought more blood rushing to your face along with shameless moans from you, followed by grunts that's audible to you from vox. your legs tremble, threatening to give out and the loud sounds of skin slapping gradually fills your head, cutting out the ability to comprehend anything in you.
your gaze fixates on the belly bulge that's painfully visible in the reflection, the sight only tightening the sweet coil hidden in your stomach. the demon groans at you squeezing around his length, knowing that you're enjoying this as much as he currently is brought him dangerously close to the edge. it wasn't long until the both you reach peak, vox pulling out just in time to witness the beautiful sight of his seed staining your inner thighs.
one thing's for sure, he definitely loves going on shopping sprees with you from now on.
ʚ VALENTINO .
work pissed him off. valentino always had a very short temper and gets ticked off by the smallest things at work the moment it doesn't goes the way he wants them to. and the easiest way for him to cool off? it'll either be a good smoke or dragging you to somewhere less busy for a quickie. perhaps both works as well, if he wishes for it.
your body presses up against the cold, hard wall as his breath tickles the back of your ear, his slippery tongue sliding and flicking around damping your earlobe. his actions are quick and rushed, yet somehow careful with everything he does to you by not going too rough on you.
his lower pair of arms slightly fumbles while undressing your lower body from how narrow the space is. you wanted to ask why didn't he choose somewhere with more space, but words stopped right on your tongue when he suddenly inserted his full length into you. you cursed and press your forehead against the wall hard, a strange mixture of pain and pleasure blooms in your stomach while struggling to breathe, adjusting to his size.
"relax a bit carino, you're gonna squeeze my dick off if you don't."
"doesn't help, val. that- fuck w-wait," valentino doesn't allow you to finish your complain, cutting you off with a rough thrust. your words turn into whines, nails digging into his arms that are wrapped around your trembling body. he carried on teasing you with irregular thrusts before pulling out fully, a mysteriously playful chuckle bubbling from his chest. you glance at him with a confused expression.
it wasn't long until you hear a familiar buzzing sound of a vibrator. he barely gave you enough time to process the information and question him, inserting the small toy deep inside of you. you gasp; the weird feeling of something vibrating inside of you made it hard for you to understand what to feel. it felt so weird to the point where it's pleasurable, something so unfamiliar yet a turn on.
"what the fuck are you- hey! that shit's still inside- val!" moans slip in between your words as valentino's length replaced his slender fingers inside of you, the tip pushing the vibrating toy deeper into your pulsing walls. choked moans are let out from your throat, the brimming tears spill from your eyes and down to your cheeks.
valentino pushes both of his fingers that were used to insert the toy into your mouth, muttering praises as you instinctively lick and suck on them. your tongue slips in between and around his fingers, coating it with your saliva while some spills out from the corner of your lips and rolls off of your chin.
he shows no mercy with his ruthless thrusts, the toy growing a weird pleasure in your stomach by hitting the perfect areas inside of you. with how deep it is, your belly bulges with every rough thrust of the demon. val whistles the moment he notices it, his gaze now only fixates on your stomach from above, admiring the bulge as his thrusts only grew harsher.
hell, even the size of his dick seems to be growing bigger while your velvet walls remained engulfing it. any thoughts regarding his work are now clouded and replaced with lust, yearning for more of you.
"know what? go on and cum for me, amor. we'll take this to the bedroom then."
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© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.
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dearsnow · 6 months ago
Text
12:29 AM
- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert “bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)
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word count: 1,502
a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.
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It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.
Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”
“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”
Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.
Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”
You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.
Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”
With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.
He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.
“Wife.”
You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”
“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.
You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”
His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.
“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.
“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.
“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”
He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”
A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”
His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”
“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”
“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.
You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.
You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.
He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”
You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.
“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.
“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.
“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.
When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.” He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.
“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.
He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.
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