#and you felt....well. not that different really?

[screampied]

“you, stop . . moving,” sukuna prowls, the base of his chin sat on top of your thighs.

you were in your usual spot, waiting for him to return from whatever battle had him occupied for half the day. moments later, you’re now slouched back against sukuna’s throne with a very grumpy, pouty demon lying his head against the center of your lap. before you could even part your lips to ask him what happened this time, sukuna grumbles. “bad. very bad day, little one.”

humming, you strum a few feathery fingers toward the pink roots of his hair before softly digging a path through his tender scalp. “oh. well, wanna talk about it?”

“no,” he replies gruffly with an abrupt quickness, his pout growing the more he remembered about his day. however, as your fingers continued to comb through his silk tresses, sukuna buried his face between your thighs. “i need… to recharge.”

“most people would drink water or eat somet-”

“shut up.”

“…..”

slowly peeking from between the warmth of your glued legs, sukuna notices the pausing halt on your fingers that played with his hair and he scowls. oh, he’s pouting, and with a cute, annoyed grumble, he avoids your gaze.

“i told you to shut up, not . . to stop doing that. go on. hmph.”

rolling your eyes, you gave him a subtle head pat before hearing a loud sigh exit between your thighs. he’s usually never this clingy, and you remained quiet - wondering just what happened in his day for him to behave so … needy.

your fingers resumed its maze through his scalp tenderly, and his long lashes fluttered close - a soft content sigh dragging away from his thinly parted lips. in a way, you had to admit — this looked silly.

a huge, burly thousand-year-old curse of a demon positioned between your thighs. it was merely comical, and yet, sukuna could really care less.

the king of curses didn’t have a weakness - except you.

“mmgh-” he’d grunt, tilting his head to the left before he felt your thumb gingerly scratching behind his ear. for a second, you think you saw his nose twitching too. sukuna’s pink brows were still forcibly furrowed together, perfectly expressing his stubborn frustration before he let off another noise.

this time though - it’s different . .

it’s a subtle, cooing ‘rrrrr’ sound that’s deeply low. the entire sound alone from sukuna makes your thighs shake a bit and you look down at him with a perplexed look.

“ ‘kuna?” you murmured, the swirling circles of your finger stopping once again. a cunning grin gradually creased against your lips before you gasped. “did you just … purr?”

“i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“that noise you just made.”

sukuna rolls his eyes, his scratchy voice a bit muffled from how he nearly sank between the arc of your thighs. “pft. i was clearing my throat, obviously. you humans and your delusions-”

“nooo, i heard it,” you cheekily simpered, pinching his cheek. that earned a disgusted glower from him before you brought your fingers back toward behind his ear. “i scratched behind hereeee ‘n then . . you made that sound.”

the demon’s breath hitched once he felt the tip of your stubby thumb leisurely trail its way near behind his ear. instantaneously, his ear even twitched at your delicate touch and his eyes were just whining for more. for once, sukuna doesn’t have a witty remark and he’s just allowing you to toy your fingers against his balmy skin.

“stupid …. it wasn’t a purr. that’s insulting.”

“oh, my bad. what was it then?”

sukuna glares at you, and you return with a smug expression. damn.

sighing, sukuna’s shoulder slacken. “whatever. anyways,” he grumps, his chin sitting back onto your right leg. crimson eyes flicker up toward you before he pouts. “scratch behind my ear again. see what happens.”

“or what, you’ll purr again? ooh. scary.”

sukuna’s cheeks were so flushed - on the very cusps of shading into a bright hue of vermillion before he scoffs. “ha! do it. you wo- mmmmrr-”

cutting him off, you give him a good scratch behind his ear once more, and again—that sound comes out. a soothing, content purr from sukuna that cutely makes his whole body faintly rumble against your thighs.

it wasn’t just the purring, it was all of his changing body language that occurred too.

whenever your fingers would swiftly dash across the sensitive territory that was located behind his ear, sukuna turned into an entire different person. his eyelids would hang low, his nose would twitch, and his usual grumpy expression would slowly switch to a more… tame one.

it’s like your fingers had some sort of magic, and it irritated him but it also made him . . craving more of your touch. “there there,” you hummed, feeling him relax against your touch. your fingertips were always so gentle, dancing down the outer edge of his ear as the low, purring noise continued.

it only lasted for a few seconds but to sukuna, it felt like many, many hours..

the scratching had him nearly hypnotized - and he was already closing his eyes, forgetting all about his horrible day. you silently watched as the curse’s pink slit brows curled apart from its usual furrow, and you could almost see his pout turning into a tiny smile.

it’s a half-almost smile, and sukuna’s starting to feel himself eventually falling asleep.

“such a cat,” you teasingly mumbled, hearing his ragged breaths suddenly come to a mesmeric slow. sukuna deeply sighs, cool puffs of air from his nostrils falling against your thighs. you weren’t sure if he was fully asleep or not, so you gave him a soft poke.

nothing.

giggling, you laid back against his throne as he remained in his same spot—head laid on your thighs as he was kneeling before you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen sukuna so relaxed. he’s usually so angry - so full of hate and uncontrollable rage but now, he looks finally at peace.

at peace in his favorite spot - between your thighs.

in a soft lulling voice, you gave his head a small pat before leaning down to kiss his forehead. “i love you, ‘kuna. sleep well.”

“hng- i love …. you too, little one.” he’d groggily reply, pressing plush lips against the crevice of your thigh.

“never talk about this again, by the way. or els-”

you interrupt his tiny threat by scratching behind his ear one more time and sukuna purrs even louder than before. it’s more high-pitched this time, and he opens his eyes before a pink tint spreads across his face once he realized he purred again.

“d- damn it..”

[mggslover]

judt thinking about reader and spencer making out and just doing stuff over clothes yk and spencer cumming his pants 🥰 (love your work btw !!)

dry humping with spencer genre: smut (18+) cw: just a bunch of variations on dry humping lol, inexperienced!spencer but his confidence grows throughout it, tit play, fingering, handjob over clothes wc: 1,6k a/n: i wrote this "drabble" so quickly, felt so inspired by your request. this was a really fun one, thank you!

From the moment you started dating Spencer Reid, you knew your relationship would be nothing like your previous ones. Not only was Spencer way kinder and more thoughtful than anyone you’ve ever dated, he was also more inexperienced.

Spencer’s lack of relationships and experience in the bedroom never posed a problem for you. In fact, you found it endearing that he was shyer than the average man, and it felt good to know you’d found someone who took your relationship seriously and wanted to take things slow before moving to the next step. 

Spencer didn’t mind all physical touch, though. You often found yourself cuddled up on the couch, facing him as you sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around you and his face hidden in the crook of your neck. 

As much as you tried to contain yourself, you were just a girl. And sitting on your boyfriend’s lap as he held you close and smelled deliciously like leather-bound books and overly sweetened coffee, turned you on. A lot. 

So it was a little more than an accident when, one day, during a passionate makeout session on the couch, you found yourself moving your hips against him. Spencer’s response was immediate, inhaling a sharp breath against your mouth. You pressed your lips back to his in a soft peck, making him forget about it until you repeated the movement a few minutes later. He responded with a whimper, and you pulled back enough to see the slight furrow in his brows and the twinkle in his eyes, his face speaking words he was too nervous to admit. 

“Do you want me to do it again?”

Spencer swallowed, giving a hesitant nod. His nerves quickly faded into pleasure as you put your hands on his shoulders, giving you enough grip to continue your motions. Your lips found his neck, and with a couple of licks and bites, he came undone, moaning incoherent words as his hips stuttered into you.

This event became a solid foundation to build on. Spencer’s confidence grew over time. Whereas it used to be only you who touched him, Spencer now dared to explore your body as well: his hands roaming over the sides of your thighs, wandering to the curve of your ass, kneading the covered skin as you grind your body against him. 

His warm hands would glide under your shirt, leading you to assure him that he could take it off. First came your top, then your bra. The more clothes you removed, the bigger Spencer’s need was to touch you. To take control. On his own initiative, he would squeeze your breasts, biting down on his bottom lip as your nipples hardened in reaction. He’d reach out to rub the buds in circular motions, until they stood peaked enough for him to wrap his lips around them. 

You’d revel in the feel of Spencer hungrily sucking on your nipples, gripping your tits tightly in his hands. He was like a man starved, having spent all his years without the touch of a woman. He couldn’t get enough, especially not because it was you. 

After a while, you even convinced him to get rid of his shirt. He didn’t regret his decision as you showered his chest in kisses, making him feel more loved than he thought was possible.

Eventually, Spencer wasn’t intimidated by the concept of dry humping anymore. Going as far as putting you into different positions. He’d have you on your hands and knees, your back arched as he thrusted against you. His strong hand would hold you by your thigh, the other placed on your shoulder as his denim-clad bulge repeatedly pressed against the thin fabric of your leggings. The rough material of his pants gave just enough friction for you to orgasm, your face pressed into the mattress as you cried out. Spencer only stopped once his pants reflected the same wet spot as yours had. 

-`♡´-

It was on a sunny morning that you found yourself tangled up in each other on top of his bedsheets. 

The heat of the night had resulted in both of you undressing down to your underwear. You woke up with Spencer pressed against your back, sleepily grinding his cock against the swell of your ass. Your moans woke him, and in practiced ease, he pulled you into a deep kiss. 

In all the months of dating, you had never seen Spencer in his underwear before. You could predict what his cock would look like based on the feel, but seeing his hard length stand proud in his boxers, pointing up to the small patch of hair covering his stomach, was a more mouthwatering sight than you’d imagined. 

Spencer lay on his back, his upper body propped up against some bundled-up pillows. Golden streams of sunlight hit his chest, and a tired smile graced his lips.

You happily climbed on top of him, your knees bent on either side of his body. You lowered yourself down onto his bulge, a satisfied moan leaving your lips as his length perfectly fitted between the space your thighs had created. His warm brown eyes never left yours as you placed your hands on his stomach, fingers digging into the soft skin as you moved your hips up and down. The room was filled with the soft creaking of the bed and the mixture of your moans. Another thing you loved about Spencer: he was loud. A whimpering and moaning mess every time your covered pussy made contact with his bulge.

When you looked down, you caught a glimpse of the tip of his cock peeking out from underneath his boxers, revealing itself as the fabric moved with your movements. It flushed a deep shade of pink and glistened with precum, seeming to accumulate with each roll of your hips. You didn’t want to bring any attention to it, scared he’d turn self-conscious, so instead you locked your lips with his.

He bit down on your bottom lip and moved his hands to your ass, helping you quicken your movements against his cock. You threw your head back in pleasure, giving him a beautiful view of your breasts as they caught the sunlight. He cupped them in his hands and thrust his hips up into you. 

His name left your lips in a high-pitched moan. “Oh, Spencer.”

“Am I making you feel good, sweetheart?”

You cried in response, nodding your head. Your sounds of pleasure always encouraged him. He felt bolder as he slipped his hand in his underwear, adjusting himself so that his tip rubbed deliciously against your soaked underwear. 

“Turn around for me, baby.” 

You turned around on his lap, leaning back against his chest. Your knees remained spread and bent, and he held you up by the back of your thighs as he slammed his bulge up into you. Your hand slipped to your underwear, rubbing your palm against your heat. Your clit stood swollen, the layer of cotton forming no barrier for your pleasure. 

Experimentally, your hand slid lower down to his cock, rubbing the length and cupping his balls over his underwear. 

“F-fuck, do that again,” Spencer breathed heavily.

You obeyed, jerking him through his boxers. You felt overwhelmed by the feeling of him, finally able to know how heavy he felt in your hands. Your fingertips softly traced the veins of his cock, and you could feel his breath heaving against your neck. He pressed a wet kiss to the sensitive skin, making you shiver. 

Spencer resumed where you left off, his hand making its way to your pussy. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of your underwear, pulling it aside and revealing how soaked you were. “All of this for me?”

You gasped as his long fingers trailed your outer lips. The pleasure clouded your mind, and you couldn’t find the words as your boyfriend, for the first time, slipped a finger inside of you. He curled his finger skillfully, and you would’ve believed it if he told you he’d done this a thousand times. 

The warmth in your core started building faster than anticipated. You reached out to grab Spencer’s wrist in an effort to ground yourself. He didn’t stop his movements, though, pumping his finger inside of you as he rutted against you at the same fast pace. 

“Spencer, I’m-” 

Your words got cut off as a leg-shaking orgasm washed over you. Spencer let out a deep groan, and you could feel his hot release forming underneath you. 

You hurriedly got off his lap, sitting on your knees next to him as you took in the scene. His underwear was translucent from your juices, and his happy trail was coated in his thick, white cum. 

“You made a mess of me,” Spencer chuckled, his voice still hoarse from waking up. 

You gave him a dreamy smile, and he returned it with a big, goofy grin.

“You look so incredibly hot, I wish I could fuck you.”

The words escaped your lips before you realized. You always made sure not to hint at wanting anything more than he was ready for, not wanting to rush him. You nervously looked up at him, but where you expected to find your boyfriend looking uncomfortable, his eyes shone with a compelling glimmer as he licked his lips.

“I think I’m ready for that.”

[valyvinny]

╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys *:･ﾟ✧*: Losing control ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Soft smut WORD COUNT : 2.6k TAGS : MDNI 18+ NSFW, kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, allusions to sex, rafayel is implied to be in heat, back scratching (only is sylus') A/N : PHEWW, I know I said that the next piece of writing may take a while but I also have no self control lol. Though this time I promise its gonna take a hot minute cause final year med school exams are kicking my asssss. Also, I didn't expect my previous piece to do as well as it did. Thank you all so so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy this one :)

The lads boys can't help but lose control around you

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Caleb

Caleb is addicted to your lips. It’s almost like he’s making up for the years he’s spent abstaining from you, littering fleeting pecks throughout the day. 

Caleb just can’t seem to help himself. He’d always kiss you hello and goodbye. He’d kiss you good morning and good night. 

He was always so gentle with it, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face in his palms, holding you like you’re made of glass. Afraid that with one wrong move, you’d break. 

He’d take his time to admire your features. Features that he’s cherished and adored his whole life, that he can probably draw out from memory. Your expressive eyes gazing at him in anticipation, the plush of your inviting lips, the dusty pink hue that’s settled on your cheeks.  

You were his entire world and he could only hope you’d be able to feel at least a fraction of what he felt for you and how much he treasured you in the way he kissed you. Soft and tender. Pouring all the passion he could as he moved his lips against yours. 

But perhaps most infuriatingly (not really, you secretly loved it), he’d often kiss you mid conversation. A light peck to stop you in your tracks. It was his trump card, especially when you were scolding him for something. And it worked every time, it always seemed to melt you into a puddle 

“You just look so adorable when you’re talking to me pip-squeak” he’d say, laughing at your display of annoyance. But the fact that you we’re fighting off a smile said you felt otherwise. 

But when he had the time to indulge himself in you, it was an entirely different experience. An entirely different Caleb. The duality of your childhood friend always gave you a whiplash. 

He’s pulling you close to him, savoring the feeling of your body against his. You’re caged against his imposing form and whatever surface he’s crowding you against this time. You’re pinned, completely at the mercy of the man that’s yearning for your touch. 

Caleb kisses you with the hunger of a thousand men. His kisses are feverish, demanding, ravishing every corner of your mouth like it’s the first time. He bites down on the plush of your bottom lip, taking you by surprise. 

“Sorry”, he breathes. But he isn’t really. Not when the sound of your wanton moans sends tingles down his spine. God, how did he get so fucking lucky. Having you here like this, so pliant and needy in his arms is his version of heaven. 

The feeling of you carding your fingers through the strands of his hair, tugging at the roots makes a filthy groan escape from his lips. You’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re impatiently pulling his lips towards you again, and it only spurs him on further, pressing one bruising kiss after another, leaving your lips swollen. All the while his hand is sneaking up your shirt to feel the intoxicating warmth of your body. 

You rarely ever stop him when he gets like this. You know he needs it, needs you. And you want him too. Desperately. So you take a hold of his hand and guide it lower, Caleb’s eyes darkening in response. It’s safe to say that neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Sylus

Sylus is subtle with his affections, it reflects in his gentle and otherwise discrete mannerisms. 

The silver haired man has made a habit of kissing your hand in greeting.

“My lady”, he’s tease, smirking at the your cheeks tinged pink and your defiant pout. 

Occasionally, he’d press a kiss on the top of your head and interlace his fingers with yours. Other times, he’d wrap your hands around your waist, guiding you through noisy crowds. 

However, behind closed doors, your proximity was a drug to him. 

He’d rarely, if ever, be apart from you and your lips. Once he had you against him on his bed, perched on his lap, you’d be better off clearing your schedule. 

Sylus could spend hours savoring the touch of your lips against his. He’s a sensual kisser. Taking his time to draw out every moan, every whimper he can draw from you. 

He’s slow, concentrating first on your upper, then your lower lip, your mouth moving against his in tandem with a rhythm that comes with practiced ease. He’s thoroughly infatuated with the way you move against him, seeking more of his touch. 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, before entangling his fingers in your hair, angling your face just right for him to kiss you deeper, while his other hand is wrapped against your waist leaning you against the headboard. 

It’s intoxicating. You’re drowning in the presence of this man, and with each kiss, you only want to sink deeper and deeper. 

His kisses are numbing. Your lips tingling with how much they’re being ravaged by his, but you don’t want it to stop. In fact, you want to break his resolve further. 

So you pull out his shirt that’s tucked neatly in his pants, your hand snaking up his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. 

You rake your nails across his back, the sting making the silver haired male shudder in response, satisfied at his break in composure. 

“You sly minx” he chides, black tendrils of his Evol emerging to bind your wrists over your head, freeing him to continue his offense. 

Each press of his lips steals your breath away, leaving you completely drunk with need, until the only thought consuming you was the man in front of you. 

As the minutes tick by, Sylus is emboldened with a new sense of ferocity and intensity as you find yourself grinding against his thigh, desperate to ease the growing warmth in between your thighs. 

And if you were willing to, he’d be very happy to indulge you, give you everything you want and more. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Zayne

Zayne is a sensible man. His logical reasoning and quick thinking, even in the most critical situations, is what makes him the most sought after Cardiothoracic Surgeon in Linkon. 

He’s very rarely swayed by his emotions. But that also means he comes off as cold and unfeeling to the people around him. 

Not to you though. Never to you. Zayne is the warmest presence in your life.

In the midst of all his responsibilities, you are his reprieve, a breath of fresh air. When he has you to himself, the doctor throws all sense and reason out the window. You are his ultimate weakness. 

You are his to worship. The need he feels for you is indescribable. It consumes him, swallows him whole, until he starts to let lose any remaining restraint that holds him back from you. 

The way Zayne kisses you can only be described as reverent. He takes his time with you. Worshipping you. 

Kissing featherlight kisses up your jaw, his lips just barely brushing your skin, trailing them to just beneath your ear, before tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. 

You shiver in response, angling yourself towards him, trying to press more of yourself to him in hopes that he will relent. 

But Zayne is in no hurry. Not at all. He wants to watch you unravel under him. Bit my bit until you’re completely pliant. 

He wants to be selfish with you. So he continues his ministrations, peppering kisses down your throat, feeling the vibrations of your hums and huffs with his lips. 

You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, Zayne’s gentle but lethal movements sending a flush of warmth down your body. You need his lips on yours, you need it like you need air. 

“Please Zayne…kiss me” 

How could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly? 

The sight of you so debauched with just a few simple touches sends Zayne into a frenzy. It pleases him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you. 

So he relents, giving you what you want and kissing your lips, while you sigh in relief. Finally. 

Zayne kisses you with intent. His hands are at your hips, squeezing slightly as he devours the moans that leave your lips.

He moves his hand to touch your face, earning a surprised gasp from you, your eyes shooting open. His fingertips are icy cold. Only then do you notice, there’s frost creeping up his neck and hands. His Evol is responding to you. 

But Zayne pays it no mind, he’d die before ever causing you harm. So he grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, gazing into your eyes while nodding reassuringly. 

“I’m okay” he’d confirm before he captures your lips again, this time with renewed vigor, determined to finish what he started. 

He’s everywhere all at once, and you find comfort in each other’s kisses, touches and presence. Allowing yourselves to get lost in each other further into the night. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Xavier

Xavier is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His unsuspecting and otherwise modest appearance only serves as a facade, concealing his genuine desires. 

While he comes off as quiet and unassuming, the truth is far from it. 

He can’t help himself. You’re his. The hunter wants you next to him at all times, kissing him, touching him, loving him. He wants your undivided attention on him, selfishly so. 

It always starts out so innocent. He’s pulling you into his embrace, kissing the tip of your nose in greeting. 

“Hello my star” he says, as you giggle under his affection. And God his heart clenches at the sound. It’s music to his ears. 

He repeats the action, then tenderly peppering kisses all over your face. Your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, the dip of your chin and the corner of your lips. Over and over again until you’re reduced into a fit of laughter. 

“Xavier, it tickles” you whine, with no real complaint in your tone. 

He ceases his playful gesture, only to wrap his hands around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the dining table with practiced ease. 

You often find yourself in this position. Perched on a surface with Xavier spreading your thighs, finding his rightful place between them. 

He’s burying his face in your neck, brushing his lips against your thrumming pulse. The sound of your breath hitching in response makes Xavier smile against your skin. He’s got you exactly where he wants you. 

“My light, can I please?” He asks, pleading for your permission to spoil you.  

You find it very hard to deny the hunter, especially when you know what usually comes next. And you want it so bad. Want him to come undone and take you for himself. You’ve never stopped him before and you’re most definitely not going to stop him now. 

The breathy ‘please’ that leaves your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he dives to nip at the nape of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm as he swipes his tongue along the line of your pulse. You throw your head back in response, inviting him to take more of you. 

Xavier worries the skin in between his teeth, sucking and tonguing at the spot until he’s satisfied with the dark splotch that blooms in its place. 

He continues a similar onslaught across your collarbone and throat, leaving you hissing at the delicious sting. 

The hunter trails his lips up your throat, finally connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you like a man starved, encouraged by the sight of the dark purple marks he’s left decorating your skin. 

It satisfies a primal part of him, knowing in a way, he’s claimed you for himself. 

He’s greedy for you, and isn’t ashamed to show it. Pressing chaste kisses one after the other, barely giving you a second to catch your breath, swallowing the lustful moans that threaten that leave your lips. 

And as his hand squeezes the fat of your thighs, edging his fingertips higher to the warmth that sits between your legs, you know that you’re not leaving his apartment until you’re absolutely ruined. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Rafayel

There’s only two things that Rafayel needs to survive in this world. One is his art, the second is you. The merman is needy and he isn’t ashamed to show it. 

Sometimes, it’s difficult to get anything done when the Lemurian is around. He’s practically glued to your side, sneaking kisses to your cheek, wrapping his hand around your waist and nuzzling into the nape of your neck.  

You aren’t complaining though, you find it endearing when he’s all pouty and clingy.

And then there’s Rafayel when there’s an insatiable need growing under his skin that he just can’t seem to itch.   

When he gets like this, you’ve learned to surrender to his mercy. That’s how you find yourself currently perched on his lap. 

His gaze is intense, half lidded eyes staring you down like you’re his prey. He’s breathing heavier than usual, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. 

“Raf, are you okay?” You question worryingly. He’s burning up, you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel takes a hold of your hand, placing it on his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. It’s not enough though, he’s growing more restless. He needs more of you touching him. 

On instinct, the merman turn his face to bite at the fat of your palm, laving his tongue over the skin. When he hears your breath hitch, he breaks. 

With all semblance of reason now completely disregarded, Rafayel grasps at your neck, pressing your body into his eliminating any space between the two of you. 

His lips are on yours in an instant, and your hands are in his hair, tugging at his waves as he nips and sucks at your lips, bruising them. 

“Y/n…” he groans. His voice dripping with lust, brows knitted as he struggles to catch his breath. 

You look up at the merman. He looks positively ruined. His shirt is in disarray, hair standing up in a hundred different directions, lips swollen. And his eyes, there’s a storm brewing behind them, having darkened considerably. 

You’ve never seen him like this. Rafayel’s always been playful, using his humor as a front to his true feelings, always keeping you at arms length. 

But right now, he feels so raw. Trusting you with his deepest desires as they erupt to the surface. 

Seeing him like this, so open, so vulnerable makes heat pool between your legs. You want him, God no you need him. So you crash your lips onto his with fervor, matching his frenzy with new determination. 

Rafayel is loud. He doesn’t hold back, reacting to every press of lips, every pull of hair, grinding himself against you to relieve at least some of the tension built up in his pants. 

His tongue is swiping at your bottom lip, begging for permission which you grant without hesitation. It’s wet and messy, one hand kneading your thigh, the other playing with the button of your jeans. 

It’s all a well choreographed dance then, motions you’ve been through many times. But somehow this moment feels different, a tangible electricity in the air. You have a feeling the Lemurian isn’t going to let you go until he’s had his fill of you. 

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

[wondergirlsthings]

Carlos Sainz’s Sweet Moment: Leaning Down to Hear His Wife

Carlos Sainz x Wife!Reader

It was a quiet evening after a long day of practice and media duties, and Carlos had returned to the hotel room, hoping for some peace and downtime. He found you sitting by the window, a cup of tea in your hand, staring out at the city lights as the sun began to set.

You weren’t the type to easily express when you were feeling off, but tonight, Carlos could sense something was different. You were quieter than usual, and even though you greeted him with a smile, he knew you well enough to tell when something was on your mind.

He sat down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back. “Hey, cariño,” he said softly. “You okay?” darling

You took a deep breath, not immediately answering, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. Carlos noticed the hesitation, the way you avoided his gaze.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, his voice gentle but insistent. “I can tell something’s bothering you.”

You gave a small shrug, sipping your tea. “It’s nothing really. Just…”

Carlos leaned in closer, his hand now resting on your knee, trying to be as close as possible without overwhelming you. “Come on, love. You know you can tell me anything.”

You smiled faintly but shook your head. “It’s silly, really…”

He smiled back, but there was concern in his eyes. “You think I’m going to judge you for something silly? You’re my wife, and I’m here for you, always.”

You hesitated again before finally speaking up, your voice so soft he had to lean down just to hear you properly. "I just... I don’t feel like I’m doing enough, you know? Sometimes it feels like I’m not contributing enough to everything, especially when you’re out there racing so hard.”

Carlos’s heart melted at your words. He knew how dedicated you were to everything you did, but it pained him to hear that you felt like you weren’t doing enough. He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours, and for a moment, you could hear the soft sound of his breath as he spoke.

“You’re more than enough, cariño,” he whispered, his voice deep and sincere. “I don’t need anything else. You’re my everything. You’re always there for me, and that means more than anything. Your support, your love—it's what keeps me going, especially on those tough days.”

You looked up at him, and he smiled down at you, his eyes soft with affection. “Don’t ever doubt yourself, okay? You’re perfect just the way you are. I love you.”

Carlos gently cupped your face, tilting your chin up so he could kiss your forehead, his lips lingering there. When he pulled back, he whispered again, “And I’ll always lean down to hear you, no matter what you need to say.”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling lighter as his words settled in. “I love you too, Carlos.”

He grinned, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Good. Now, how about we forget about everything else tonight? Let’s just be together.”

You nodded, and as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close, you couldn’t help but feel safe and loved in his embrace. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

[aeolianblues]

Preface: this is only in the body and not in tags because it’s difficult to format it in tags, it’s not meant to be read as more important than tags if you don’t want to, I’m just thinking out loud.

Seeing so many different takes on this in the notes — Some people arguing that disability will be negatively impacted by having accessibility aids taken away. Dyslexia and related conditions. Valid concerns. While I think it’s possible to accommodate that— I never knew a teacher to ever deduct more than half a mark on an entire test (overall) for bad handwriting or spelling, it’s possible to do away with deductions for these small things outside of like, grade 5 entirely. If teachers in my classes of 54 kids could do it in the 2010s, it’s possible to do it now too.

I’ve never liked nor understood mathematics on a computer. None of the symbols you need are available, rough work is impossible to do for calculations, it makes everything so messy. Same goes for physics, and chemistry formatting was also an absolute bitch digitally. That’s where pen/pencil and paper were absolutely needed. Even today, I prefer to do any non-text work by hand because what do you know! Tablets with pencils are still really expensive!

But on the other hand, writing for long hours was an absolute pain— many of us were worried that 3-hour long exams with long-format answers would actually give us some sort of wrist injury. I switched from playing the guitar righthanded (pressing the strings with your left hand) to playing the other way round, because after getting home from a 7h long school day my left (writing) hand could not take applying pressure while practising the guitar. As someone who’s job is coding on a computer and like dragging windows and spreadsheets, I do worry about things like carpal tunnel, though I still feel my hands are less stressed than when writing with a pen over 6 hours and really fast. I had to change how I write entirely to reduce finger and wrist stress.

Unless you (as the last person said) want to get rid of homework entirely and have kids do their work in front of you, writing won’t really reduce AI cheating. A kid on a time crunch will choose to handwrite an essay they got chat gpt to write for them than sit and take the precious time when late to come up with the contents and structure their arguments themselves. This is not me advocating for AI, but telling you that this is what I saw in my final years, which was just as AI was beginning to take off amongst university students.

You know how you tackle that? You teach your students time management. Facilitate their essay writing process in stages. Set smaller milestones that they need to meet. Professors who broke up a large assignment into smaller bits with incremental deadlines took SO much stress off my shoulders compared than ones who just assigned you one fuckoff-giant project and left you to flail. I built a whole compiler within a 3 month semester, and it was the least stressful project I’ve ever done because we had smaller and well-structured deadlines every two weeks that also helped us really understand the architecture of a compiler and helped me think through the process of building one.

And I know, some people will say ‘if university students in their 20s need to be taught basic things like time management then we’re all doomed’, but what else are you trying to teach kids when you get into the argument about whether AI helps or hinders? The material they need is mostly available either online or now easily structured through AI. You’re teaching them how to think about things, structure their ideas, put together larger pieces of work incrementally; doesn’t that also include teaching them how to spread out and structure their work? It’s literally what workplaces would call ‘project management.’

Teach them that, and a lot of things they may have previously been intimidated by and felt unable to start (you know when something’s so vast you don’t know where to start and just freeze instead?), they will all fall into place and make sense, and allow your students not only to begin their work, but to know how to break down bigger problems in future and also how to set themselves milestones to keep track of their (/their teams’) progress themselves. What do I know.

An ex-colleague of mine was complaining to me the other day about the ai problem in her students' papers, and I told her, "Just make your students hand-write them in class. Easy." She looked at me like I was insane and tried to explain how that would never work, but I just said,"That's how we did it for a thousand years. The invention of word processors doesn't erase all that."

To me it seems obvious. Readings are done out of class, handwritten essays are done within it. No more ai papers.

[jhyoos]

Off Limits

chapter one : cold hearted snake

soccer player vi x talis reader

mentions : player vi, besti ekko, romance, lesbianism, modern au, college au, drama, abby tlou, ellie tlou, cheerleader reader, mention of sex, mentions of overdosing

notes: semi long chapter so get some snacks, turn your fan on and rub your feet together

edit: i ended up changing nyu to asu (arcane state university)

"Jayce… don’t piss me off," you mumbled groggily, swatting at the air as you turned away from the light creeping in through the curtains. Your brother had this awful habit of waking you up early, and this time, it was no different. You groaned as you felt the edge of his foot on your nightstand, a clear sign that he wasn’t planning to leave until you gave him the attention he craved.

"Please, sis. Just tell me if they go good with my outfit. It's my junior year. I gotta look fresh," Jayce said, his voice high-pitched and over-the-top, just the way it always was when he was seeking validation.

You blinked open one eye, then the other, squinting up at him. The sight of his goofy grin—complete with his messy hair—did nothing to help the headache that was already forming. He was holding a pair of sneakers in one hand, his new must-have shoes for the school year.

You rubbed your eyes and sighed, giving him the most unimpressed look you could muster. "Yeah, Jayce. You look good," you said flatly, trying to roll over and go back to sleep.

But Jayce, of course, wasn’t done. He let out an exaggerated sigh and plopped down on the edge of your bed, his body taking up far too much space. "Don’t go back to sleep, c’mon! It’s your first day here at ASU. You gotta make a statement," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, clearly proud of his well-meaning, annoying attempt to motivate you.

You cracked open an eye again, giving him a deadpan stare. "I don’t want to hear it, Jayce. You’re lucky I’m even awake right now."

Jayce chuckled, nudging you lightly with his foot. "Get up, you lazy bum. I need to know if this shirt works with my new kicks or not. It’s important!"

You sighed, sitting up slowly, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Looking at him—his eager face, his ridiculous outfit—wasn’t helping your mood. You glanced at his sneakers, then his shirt, then his whole vibe. Jayce looked like he was trying way too hard to impress everyone on his first day back. He had his typical “I’m cool” swagger on display, and you weren’t sure if you should laugh or just roll your eyes harder.

"Yeah, Jayce. You look good," you muttered, not really caring but knowing that was the answer he wanted to hear.

Jayce leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, all dramatic as he asked, "Really? I mean, really? You sure about that? ‘Cause I need you to be my fashion consultant today."

You shook your head, not even bothering to reply to his antics. You were too tired for this. But he wasn’t backing down. He was, after all, Jayce—a master at annoying people to no end.

"Don’t make me get Mom on the phone, you know she’s got the best opinions," he teased, but you could hear the hint of excitement in his voice. He wasn’t just annoying you for attention; he genuinely seemed to need your approval.

You shot him a glare. "If you don’t stop, I’ll tell Mom you’ve been wearing the same pair of socks for two days."

Jayce’s grin faltered, just for a second, before he playfully shoved your shoulder. "Low blow, sis. Low blow."

Finally, you could hear him sigh in defeat. "Fine. I’m leaving, I’m leaving. Get up, though! Or I swear, I’ll drag you out of bed myself."

You stared at him as he got up and headed toward the door, but not without another remark. "Oh, and don't even think about that raggedy bus today. We’re taking my car. And you're making a statement whether you like it or not."

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, there was silence—glorious silence.

You glanced at the time on your phone. 5:47 AM. With a groan, you threw the covers off and rolled out of bed.

The thought of the first day at ASU made your stomach churn with nerves, but you couldn't show it. Not after all the teasing and endless talk of “making a statement” from your brother. You needed to at least pretend like you had it all together. So, with a loud sigh, you shuffled into the bathroom for a shower, hoping the cold water would wake you up enough to deal with the day ahead.

As you stood under the stream of water, you tried to clear your head. You'd never been one for drama, but here you were, starting college at one of the most prestigious schools in the country. It was supposed to be exciting. New people, new opportunities, new everything. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were stepping into something much bigger than you were ready for.

Still, there was no turning back now.

You had spent your freshman and sophomore years in Italy, a place you quickly grew to love. It was a dream come true—walking cobblestone streets, sipping espresso in tiny cafes, and studying architecture and art history in a country that felt alive with culture and tradition. At first, you were nervous about being so far from home, but Italy embraced you with open arms, and soon, it felt more like home than your actual home ever had.

The plan had been simple: you would study abroad, and Jayce would come with you. Your mom had made it clear that he had the option to join you. “Think about it,” your mom had said, “two years of sibling bonding while experiencing a whole new world.” But, of course, Jayce had shrugged it off.

"Pass," he'd said without hesitation. "All my friends are here. Plus, who's gonna keep the soccer team alive without me?"

You’d rolled your eyes when he said it, but deep down, his refusal stung. He didn’t even consider it. And as much as you hated to admit it, part of you had wanted him there. Sure, he was annoying and constantly in your space, but he was also your big brother—the one who always knew how to make you laugh when you were stressed, the one who looked out for you when no one else did. Without him, you felt a little more alone than you were ready to admit.

But Italy had been a journey all its own. You’d found your rhythm there, made lifelong friends, and grown in ways you never expected. You learned to navigate bustling markets in Florence, spent lazy afternoons sketching by the canals in Venice, and even picked up enough Italian to argue with locals over gelato flavors. It wasn’t just a study abroad experience; it was a transformation.

Then, two years flew by faster than you thought they would. And just like that, it was time to say goodbye to everything you’d built in Italy. The narrow alleyways you knew like the back of your hand, the corner cafe where the barista always greeted you with a warm "Ciao, bella," and the friends who had become family. It wasn’t easy leaving it all behind, but the opportunity to finish your degree at home on a full-ride scholarship was too good to pass up.

There was one silver lining to returning home: Ekko. Your best friend since middle school. He’d been the one constant in your life before you left for Italy, and as much as you loved your new friends abroad, no one quite compared to Ekko. He was like a brother to you, but cooler than Jayce ever could be—not that you’d ever tell Jayce that to his face.

Ekko was in ASU with a full ride scholarship majoring in Engineering, balancing school with being on the soccer team alongside Jayce. The two of them had always been close, despite being complete opposites. Jayce was loud, confident, and always seeking the spotlight, while Ekko was more laid-back and analytical, content to let his skills speak for themselves. The idea of seeing them again—especially Ekko—was one of the few things keeping you grounded as you prepared to face New York after two years away.

After your last class wrapped up, you decided to head over to the campus coffee shop to grab something to eat. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods hit you as soon as you walked in. You ordered an iced coffee and a bagel sandwich before making your way outside, where small tables with umbrellas dotted the courtyard.

Finding an empty table near the edge of the patio, you set your things down and took a seat. The campus buzzed around you as students chatted or hurried to their next destination. Sipping your coffee, you opened your book and began reading while occasionally taking bites of your sandwich.

As you lost yourself in the story, two hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders, making you jolt and nearly drop your sandwich. Your head whipped around, your heart racing, only to be met with a familiar face—Ekko.

“Holy—Ekko!” you exclaimed, standing up with a wide grin.

He laughed, his grin just as big as yours. “Surprise!”

Without hesitation, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I missed you so much,” you said, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

“Missed you too,” Ekko said, his arms wrapping around you firmly. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he took a good look at you.

You twirled around dramatically, giving him a full view of your outfit. His brows shot up in surprise as he took it all in. “Damn… Italy changed you in more ways than one. What happened to my (Y/N) who wore oversized hoodies and partied like a rockstar every other weekend?”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “She’s dead, but I still love a good party,” you quipped.

Ekko leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed and a playful smirk on his face. “There’s gonna be a first-day bonfire tonight. Good music, new faces, and…” he paused for effect, “…Caitlyn Kiramman, the cheer captain, might be there. You could ask her about whether there’s a chance you’re on the team since you submitted that video for tryouts.”

Your face lit up with excitement. “You always come in clutch,” you said with a grin. “Only if you’re taking me, though.”

Ekko shook his head, his smirk turning into a sheepish grin. “Can’t. I’ve got a date for the bonfire.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Aw, really? Who’s the lucky girl?”

“A girl named Jinx. She’s in most of my classes. Thought she was cute, so I asked her out,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “She surprisingly said yes.”

“Surprisingly?” you teased, folding your arms and leaning toward him. “Please, Ekko, you’ve got more game than you think. Good for you, seriously.”

He chuckled, his cheeks dusted with a hint of pink. “Thanks, I guess. What about you? Got your eye on any girls here yet?”

You grinned mischievously, your voice dripping with confidence. “Always.”

Ekko leaned in slightly, his eyebrows raised. “Oh, really?” he asked teasingly.

“Yup. Vi,” you said with no hesitation. “She’s really hot—pink hair, tattoos on her back. God, I would love to take a ride on h—”

“Oh, fuck no,” Ekko interrupted, his voice sharp as his expression shifted to something between disbelief and warning.

You blinked, startled by his sudden tone. “What?!”

Ekko groaned, running a hand down his face. “She’s a player, (Y/N). I should know. She’s on the soccer team with Jayce. Don’t mess with her—you’ll get hurt. Real shit.”

You frowned, confused by his sudden seriousness. “What are you talking about? She seemed fine when I talked to her earlier.”

He pushed off the wall and crossed his arms again, his expression dark. “I’ve seen it happen. She’s got game, yeah, but not the kind you want. I don’t like the way she moves. I used to hang out with her, but I stopped for a reason. The only time I’m even around her is when Jayce is.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Okay, but maybe she’s different now.”

Ekko narrowed his eyes at you, unimpressed. “Look, I’m just saying—don’t let her mess with your head, (Y/N). You’re better than that. Just…be careful, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, though a small part of you appreciated his concern. “Fine, Dad.”

When you got home, Ekko’s warning was the last thing on your mind. Vi was texting you, and there was no way you were going to ignore her. She was too hot not to respond to. Balancing your bag on your shoulder and your coffee cup in one hand, you pushed the door shut with your foot. As soon as the door clicked behind you, you checked your phone again, a grin spreading across your face as you read her latest message.

Heading upstairs, you scrolled through the playful back-and-forth between you and Vi, feeling giddy. The attention she was giving you was addictive. You were so lost in the conversation that you didn’t notice Jayce stepping out of the bathroom until you nearly bumped into him.

He stood there with a towel slung around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed the stupid grin on your face. “The fuck are you smiling about, dopey?” he teased, crossing his arms over his chest. “You look a little too gay right now.”

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him. “Ha, ha, hilarious,” you muttered, holding your phone a little closer as you tried to move toward your room.

But Jayce wasn’t going to let it go. He reached over and snatched the phone right out of your hand.

“Jayce! What the fuck!” you yelped, spinning around and reaching for it.

Jayce held it out of your reach, laughing as he glanced at the screen. But his laughter quickly died when he saw the name at the top of the conversation. His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “You’re fucking around with Vi?” he asked, his tone dripping with judgment.

“It’s the first day, so not yet, clearly,” you snapped, grabbing your phone back with an irritated glare.

Before you could retreat to your room, Jayce stepped in front of you, blocking your path. His expression shifted to something more serious, almost protective. “Whatever you’re doing with her, stop. She’s a close friend of mine, and she gets around, (Y/N). It’ll be awkward as hell, and on top of that, I’m not trying to get embarrassed by you.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him. “Whatever,” you muttered dismissively, though his words stung.

Jayce didn’t move from where he stood, following you with his eyes as you turned toward the stairs. “Hey, wait. Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

You stopped and turned to face him. “Yeah, Ekko has a date, so I need a ride. Can you take me? Mom and Dad still haven’t gotten me a car yet, so I’m stuck.”

Jayce shook his head immediately, folding his arms again. “Oh, you’re not going. No way. Vi’s gonna be there, and that’s officially off fucking limits.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. “What? What the fuck, Jayce! I can’t even go socialize?”

Jayce gave you a hard look. “You’re not going to socialize, (Y/N). I know how you are when it comes to alcohol and…other shit. Or do I need to call Mom and tell her you need to go back to Italy after I let you relapse?”

His words hit you like a slap. Your stomach dropped as anger flared in your chest, and your eyes burned with unshed tears. “Fuck you, Jayce,” you said, your voice trembling with a mix of rage and hurt. “What a low blow.”

You yanked your arm out of his grip and stormed up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door shut behind you. You locked it for good measure, leaning against it as hot tears began to roll down your cheeks.

Outside the door, Jayce’s voice softened, guilt creeping into his tone. “Wait, sis… I didn’t mean it seriously,” he said, knocking lightly.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t even look at him right now.

When it became clear you weren’t going to answer, Jayce sighed. “Let me know if you want anything to eat when I get back,” he said quietly before walking away. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hall, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

While you sat on your bed, still upset over the argument with Jayce, your phone buzzed. You glanced at it, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was a text from Vi.

Vi: Are you coming to the bonfire party? I wanna see you.

You hesitated for a moment before typing back.

You: Can’t. My brother’s not letting me go. And I don’t have a car. He was my only ride.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Vi: Well, I have a car. Give me your location and get ready. I’ll pick you up, beautiful.

A grin spread across your face despite everything, and you quickly sent her your location. Tossing your phone onto the bed, you sprang up and went straight to your closet. You scanned your options until you finally settled on a black fitted mini-dress paired with, a denim jacket draped off your shoulders, and chunky black boots. The look was edgy yet flirty—perfect for a night out.

You glanced in the mirror and realized your makeup was a mess from crying. Grabbing a makeup wipe, you cleaned up the smudges, reapplying your eyeliner and lipstick carefully. After smoothing out your hair and giving yourself one last look-over, your phone buzzed again.

“I’m parked outside the complex,” the text read.

“Shit,” you muttered, scrambling to find a cute bag. You tossed your phone, keys, wallet, and lip gloss inside, then rushed out the door.

As you left your apartment complex, you gave the doorman a quick wave. “Goodnight!” you called, like always.

“Have fun!” he replied with a knowing smile.

Outside, a sleek car idled by the curb. You spotted Vi leaning against the driver’s side, her pink hair glowing under the streetlights. She grinned when she saw you, and as soon as you slid into the passenger seat, she leaned over and kissed you.

You froze for a second, caught off guard, but then you melted into the kiss, returning it shyly. When she pulled back, her smirk was devilish.

“Nice place you live at,” she said, glancing at the complex as she started driving. “A friend of mine stays in one of these apartments. You must have a lot of money to live here.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Vi gave you a quick side glance, her smile softening. “Well, good for me. I like spoiled girls,” she teased.

As soon as you and Vi stepped onto the sandy beach where the bonfire party was in full swing, she casually draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. The heat of the fire reflected in her smirk as she held you there like she had no care in the world.

Immediately, you pulled away, glancing around to make sure no one—especially your brother—had noticed. “Stop,” you hissed, swatting at her arm. “You’re going to blow my cover. I’m not even supposed to be here, remember?”

Vi chuckled, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her ripped jeans, clearly enjoying your paranoia. “Fine, fine,” she relented. “But text me when you’re ready to leave.”

“Where are you going?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna go find Jayce and keep him occupied,” she said with a smirk, already scanning the crowd. “Don’t worry, princess. I got you.”

“Cool,” you said with a nod before slipping away from her, weaving through the bodies of drunken students and the glow of the bonfire’s flickering flames.

Your eyes darted across the party until they landed on Ekko. He was in the middle of a crowd, dancing with a girl who had strikingly light blue hair, her movements wild and carefree as they swayed to the music.

“Hey, Ekko!” you called out over the sound of the music.

Ekko turned his head at the sound of your voice, a grin forming when he spotted you pushing through the crowd toward him. “(Y/N)!” He gestured for you to come closer. “This is Jinx. Jinx, this is (Y/N), my best friend since middle school.”

You smiled, sticking out a hand for her to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Instead of shaking your hand, Jinx’s face lit up, and she immediately pulled you into a tight hug. “Sorry, but I’m a hugger, girl,” she said, squeezing you before letting go. “And middle school? That’s so adorable!”

You chuckled. “Yep. We used to do chemistry projects together in high school and blow shit up. My parents had to pay millions.”

Ekko laughed, shaking his head. “Yup, we were menaces,” he agreed, nudging you playfully.

Jinx grinned, eyes flickering between the two of you. “I like you already.”

The party was loud, the music pulsing through the air as laughter and shouts filled the night. You were mid-conversation with Jinx when suddenly, a random frat guy shoved an opened Cayman Jack into your hands. The condensation from the bottle chilled your skin as you instinctively curled your fingers around it.

“Chug, pretty thang,” he slurred, grinning like he had just offered you the holy grail.

“Oh, um… no, it’s okay. I’m taking a break from drinking,” you said, trying to hand it back to him.

Instead of taking the rejection, he popped the cap off with his thumb and shoved it back toward you, his eyes wild with excitement. “Chug!” he chanted.

At first, it was just him, but soon, others joined in, the word picking up like a wave, echoing louder and louder around you. "Chug! Chug! Chug!"

Ekko shot you a worried look, his lips parting as if he was about to intervene, but before he could, the pressure of a dozen eyes on you—waiting, watching, expecting—became too much. Without thinking, you tilted your head back and downed the entire drink, the carbonation burning your throat, the alcohol hitting your stomach like a rock.

“There, happy?” you said, shoving the now-empty can into the frat guy’s chest.

He let out a cheer, eyes gleaming with drunken satisfaction. Then, in a final act of bravado, he crushed the can against his forehead with a loud crack and stumbled off into the crowd.

Ekko’s hand was on your shoulder in an instant, his grip firm but gentle. “Fuck…” you muttered, your stomach twisting. Your fingers trembled slightly, your body already remembering the ghosts of your past. “I haven’t had a drink since I…”

Ekko rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll get you some water.” His voice was calm, but you saw the worry in his eyes. He turned to Jinx. “Watch her for me?”

Jinx gave a quick nod, her face uncharacteristically serious.

Ekko disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there with the taste of alcohol still lingering on your tongue.

“What’s wrong?” Jinx asked, tilting her head.

“I—I just…” Your voice faltered.

Before you could finish, a voice sliced through the noise, sharp and furious.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Your stomach dropped. You turned to see Jayce standing a few feet away, his face twisted with anger, his fists clenched at his sides.

“I’m just hanging out, Jayce,” you said, trying to keep your voice even.

Jayce scoffed, stepping closer. “(Y/N), I can smell the alcohol on your breath.” His eyes darkened, his voice tight with frustration. “Shit, dude—not even a whole two weeks and you’re already relapsing?”

Your throat tightened. “I’m not relapsing. I was just pressured into taking a drink by those stupid frat boys,” you argued.

“Bullshit,” Jayce snapped.

Ekko returned just in time, a bottle of water in his hand, but he barely had time to process what was happening before Jayce was right in your face again.

You barely heard him, your mind spiraling as the weight of his words sank in.

Yes, you were an addict in high school.

After your dad’s death, you took it harder than anyone else in your family. You fell in with the wrong people, numbing the pain however you could. The night you overdosed, you had been left in an alley, a needle in your arm, your body convulsing, vomiting, barely clinging to life.

Your mother couldn’t handle it anymore.

Instead of sending you to rehab, she sent you to Italy—far away, somewhere new, somewhere she hoped you could start over. And you did. You got therapy. You worked on yourself. You fixed yourself.

But now, standing here with Jayce looking at you like you were a failure, it felt like all that progress meant nothing.

His next words shattered whatever was left of your resolve.

“Go home,” he said coldly. “I don’t care how you get home—just go.”

Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your vision blurring with tears.

Ekko’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Jinx nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah, I’ll come too.”

You swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat. “Thanks. Just—let me say goodbye to someone first.”

Ekko nodded. “Cool. We’ll wait by the car.”

He took Jinx’s hand, leading her toward the parking lot, leaving you alone in the middle of the party, feeling like the ground beneath you was slowly cracking apart.

You pushed through the crowd, weaving between sweaty, drunken bodies, the pulse of the music thrumming in your ears. The fire in the middle of the yard crackled, casting flickering orange light over the partygoers gathered around it. Your breath was shallow as you scanned the area, searching for Vi.

And then you saw her.

She was standing by the fire, her red hair illuminated by the flames, her toned arms flexing slightly as she laughed at something. But she wasn’t alone.

A girl with long blue hair stood close—too close. She traced her fingers up and down Vi’s arm, her nails dragging over the inked skin like she had every right to touch her. Vi smirked, that signature, cocky grin that made your heart race earlier in the night. But now, it only made your stomach twist.

Then, before you could even process what was happening, Vi grabbed the girl by the waist and pulled her in. Their lips crashed together in a deep, messy kiss—not just a casual peck, not like the ones you and Vi had shared. This was something more. Their bodies were flush, Vi’s hands gripping the girl’s hips, their mouths moving like they’d done this before.

You felt a lump in your throat, but not because you were heartbroken. No, this wasn’t heartbreak. It was disappointment.

Because everyone was right.

Vi was a player. A flirt. She wasn’t the kind of girl to settle down—not even for you.

Without a second thought, you turned away, pushing through the crowd with more force this time, ignoring the people who grumbled or stumbled in your wake. Vi didn’t even see you.

By the time you reached the car, Ekko and Jinx were already waiting.

“You good?” Ekko asked as you slid into the backseat.

You didn’t answer. You just stared out the window, watching as buildings and trees blurred past. The streetlights flickered across your face, casting shadows that stretched and disappeared.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t even feel angry.

You just felt disgusted.

For the first time in two years, that familiar, suffocating feeling crept back in—the one that made your skin crawl, the one that made you want to disappear.

taglist <3 : @mommymilkers0526 @rhian88 @wrappedinvines @nanajustnana-a @prettybunnyscorner @s7nburn @ghutzz4gutz @pornoangelz @veladeangl @chaengluva @hauntedbydreams @taurtel @lorasdolly @catvi6luvr @savedforlaterr @eggphobic @alex-thegiraffeboyy @artfairyyyyy @jordynhartley2001 @ellieslefttit @h0n3yf0rlif3 @rizzscary @bjjeweledx @cherrybomb2298

[stellarsecrets86]

"A Breath Too Cold, a Room Too Still, The Echo Knows. It Haunts at Will"

(Questions I wanna ask to these placements.)

Grab your Valentine's astro readings. Here

🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀

🥀 Water Rising with 8th House Stellium or 8th House Sun/Moon – Why do people feel so exposed around you, as if you can see the parts of them they want to keep hidden?

🥀 Pluto in the 1st House – Do you get feared or obsess over, possibly both? Why do other people's reactions feel so damned intense?

🥀 Scorpio Mercury Conjunct Pluto: Don't you sometimes feel that your words seem to strike others like some kind of psychic dagger, when you really have no intention to hurt?

🥀 Mars in the 12th House – Why do people push your limits, assuming you're passive—only to regret it when you finally snap?

🥀 Capricorn Moon with Hard Aspects – Why do people expect you to be their rock but resent you when you don't show emotion the way they want?

🥀 Saturn in the 7th House – Why do people suddenly take you seriously after you've already walked away?

🥀 Venus in the 8th House - Why do people fall so deeply for you, but then act like they’re drowning?

🥀 Chiron in the 1st House - Why do people act as though you're some kind of villain when all you did was exist in proximity to their wound?

🥀 Uranus in the 4th House-Is it a wonder you are craving stability when your whole upbringing has been a storm?

🥀 Neptune in the 6th House – How do you bear the permanent blur between work, dreams, and fatigue?

🥀 Sun Square Pluto – Why do people feel the need to prove something to you by your very presence?

🥀 Leo Mars in the 8th House – Are you aware that people try to impress you, yet somehow it's never enough?

🥀 Pisces Venus in the 12th House – Why do you fall in love with souls instead of people, and why does it hurt?

🥀 Mars in Scorpio – Why do people beg for your passion, only to run when they get it?

🥀 Moon Opposite Pluto – How does it feel, knowing your emotions make people confront things they aren't ready to face?

🥀 South Node in the 7th House – Why does every relationship feel like déjà vu—like you've been here before, and it never ends well?

🥀 Lilith in the 10th House – Why does society fear powerful women, yet can't stop watching them?

🥀 Mercury in the 8th House – How do you always know what people are thinking, even before they do?

🥀 Saturn Conjunct Moon – Is it exhaustion or just the weight of being responsible for your own emotions since birth?

🥀 Aries Venus in the 8th House – Why do you love like a wildfire, intense, consuming, and impossible to control?

🥀 Venus Opposite Pluto – Why does love feel like war, and why can't you resist the battlefield?

🥀 Neptune in the 7th House – How do you always fall for someone's dream, not their reality?

🥀 Sagittarius Mars in the 12th House – Why do you fight the hardest battles where nobody can see?

🥀 Aquarius Moon with Hard Aspects – Why do people say you are emotionally detached when you feel everything, just differently?

🥀 Jupiter in the 8th House – Why does transformation stalk you like your shadow, and blesses, yet curses you with its presence?

🥀 Pluto in the 5th House – Why is your creativity born from the ashes of your pain?

🥀 Saturn in the 1st House – Have you ever felt you were old from childhood, a child forced into growing up?

🥀 Moon in the 12th House – Why do your emotions feel like a dream—real but impossible to hold onto?

🥀 Pluto in the 3rd House – Why do people hang onto your words, even when you weren't trying to be profound?

🥀 Mars Conjunct Pluto – Have you noticed how people either try to control you or fear you controlling them?

🥀 Sun Square Saturn – Why do people assume you’re confident, but inside, you’re always questioning if you’re good enough?

🥀 Venus in Scorpio – Why does love feel like a haunting—beautiful, intense, and impossible to escape?

🐝✨

(PS: These are my own interpretations. For entertainment purposes only. Have fun!💚)

[wonderjanga]

Time

The JL have noticed that Marvel doesn’t really have a sense of time. Like at all. Batman and Wonder Woman theorize that his sense of time is different from others’ considering how old he is.

They don’t know there’s actually nothing wrong with him. But anyways…

In the Batcave…

Batman: *working at the BatComputer*

Robin: *walks over and sees one of the camera feeds of the watchtower* “B? Why is Captain Marvel staring out the window?”

Batman: “I don’t know. He could be watching the stars.”

Robin: *presses one of the buttons to rewind the footage* “He’s been watching the stars for nearly three hours?”

Batman: “What?”

That’s how they were greeted with a lapsed footage of Cap standing as still as a statue, hands folded behind his back, staring out the window.

Billy was actually listening to the Gods fight the entire time. That wasn’t messed up time dilation in the slightest.

As for how this relates to time…

Flash: “Cap? Buddy?”

Marvel: *stops listening to the Gods* “Yes?”

Flash: “Is everything alright, man?”

Marvel: *confused* “Yes? Why wouldn’t it be?”

Flash: “Well, you’ve been standing here for at least thirty minutes dude.”

Marvel: “Huh…? No I haven’t. I’ve been here for, at most, a couple minutes.”

Flash: “Uh… No. You’ve been here longer. I‘ve passed you several times over the course of a couple hours but I’m choosing to believe that you’ve actually been here for thirty minutes.”

or

At the Watchtower…

Supes: “I’m really worried about, Cap. He hasn’t been seen around the Watchtower lately. I’m concerned.”

Wondy: “Don’t worry, Clark.” *claps him on the shoulder before whipping out her JL comm, calling Marvel, and putting it on speaker*

After a Couple Rings…

Marvel: *picks up, sounding groggy* “Diana? What is it?”

Wondy: “Brother, Superman has shown some concerns regarding your whereabouts. I also share them. Where have you been as of late?”

Marvel: “Uh… sleeping.” *still sounds like he’s trying to wake up*

Supes: “For days??”

Marvel: “What? No. I’m pretty sure I’ve only been asleep for a couple of hours.”

Wondy and Supes: *share a look*

Supes: “Cap, have you been in Fawcett or at the Watchtower at all recently, or have you just been sleeping?”

Marvel: “Sleeping.”

Supes: “Oh, I see.”

They made a note to never let Marvel sleep again unless one of them were nearby. If he could sleep for two weeks without waking up until they called him, they didn’t wanna imagine how long he could sleep without their interruptions.

Little did they know that this was because of the Rock of Eternity and how time is wack there. To Billy, he actually felt like he was asleep for only a couple hours.

Anyways, all these incidents, plus a couple more have caused a JL to compile a list of rules:

1.) Interrupt Marvel whenever he starts to stare into the distance

2.) Interrupt/Keep a close eye on Marvel if he sleeps

3.) If he disappears for a day or two, he’s probably busy. If he disappears for three or more, he’s probably sleeping or staring off into the distance again

4.) Tell every hero about these rules because you wouldn’t want one of your heaviest hitters going missing or unresponsive.

[honeyjynxxed]

It hurts to not be trusted, to feel the need to hide an intrinsic part of yourself from everyone even in your own home but...well... It technically isn't anything new to Danny. He's been hiding his powers from everyone except his closest friends since he was fourteen and he doesn't know why four years later he expected anything to be any different.

Attending Gotham University was fine, his tuition being almost entirely covered by the Wayne STEM scholarship. Meeting Tim had been nice even if he was a little weird at times and was probably going to become a ghost way too quickly from all the caffeine he consumed but hey who was Danny to judge? So when the dorms had flooded and Tim offered to let Danny crash at his place until things were settled again he hadn't really thought too hard about accepting. It took two weeks for him to start regretting that decision. He'd thought that when Tim offered he meant his apartment but no he'd meant Wayne Manor...with the entire rest of his family popping in and out on a regular basis. Apparently it was closer to campus, Alfred's cooking was better than quick breakfast every morning, etc etc. All excuses that Danny had taken at face value because he wanted to trust Tim, he wanted to believe that his friend was being genuine in his offers and his words.

Of course things could never be that simple. At first it was small things, lingering gazes, the hushed conversations, whispers that stopped as soon as he entered a room. Which fine, he was essentially a stranger entering a family home, there was going to be things they couldn't say in front of him. He could understand that but then... it just kept getting bigger. A near oppressive silence that followed him around the house, his personal items turning up missing only to be found left out in common areas he wouldn't have left them, questions about his family and friends and life before Gotham. Even Tim didn't hang around him in a casual manner anymore and it just....all of it just hurt. The only two people who seemed to still treat him with any sense of normality was the butler and Tim's older brother Jason but seeing as Jason avoided the manner like the plaque meant he was left with Alfred. So when he couldn't find an excuse to be out of the manor he was with the older man helping wherever he was allowed to.

"I just...I like Tim or I guess I liked hanging out with him and being friends with him. I just wanna go back to that time, before everyone started acting like I'm gonna....gonna.... I don't know murder someone in their sleep!" That's where he was now in fact, helping Alfred with the laundry and lowkey ranting to him about what everyone was doing. "I mean I can't be the only one in this house with secrets, I know Tim isn't entirely honest with me about what he does that has him sneaking into this manor super early in the morning and i know he lies about his injuries and where they come from but do you see me question him? No! Cause I trust my friend." Danny huffed as he folded another pair of sweatpants. "And I thought he trusted me...Well at least the dorms will be fixed soon and I can get out of his hair. I'm sorry to dump all this on you Alfred, I know how close you are to them."

The butler simply hummed, set down the perfectly folded dress shirt that Danny honestly didn't know how he had gotten that giant stain out of, before turning his entire body to address him straight on. "Would you like me to say something, Master Danny?"

Danny fought back a cringe at the title as he always did. "Ah no you don't need to do that Alfred and I already said you don't gotta call me that either. I'm not here permanently after all." He scratched at the back of his neck absentmindedly as he spoke, not liking the full force of Alfred's attention. "Anyway, how have you been? I didn't get back in time for dinner last night but I know you tried out that new recipe you were talking about. Did it turn out alright?"

And that was that. Danny felt bad about ranting later and made up for it best he could by helping out extra around the manor but Alfred didn't bring it up again so he thought he was fine, safe even. He pushed the conversation from his mind, forgetting about it so effectively that he almost didn't even notice when the others began to act...different. Not worse, definitely not worse, but definitely different. Still, he kept with his usual tactics of staying out of the house as often as possible and when he was there, disappearing to do chores quickly. This routine continued for perhaps another week after his conversation with Alfred until his was, for all intents and purposes, ambushed by none other than Damian after getting back to the manor from his classes for the day. "Follow me...Danny." The boy had muttered before swiftly turning and his heels and walking away. Danny was shocked for a moment, faltering before hurrying to follow. Damian never called him Danny, usually Fenton or Daniel if he had to use his first name, never Danny.

Follow Damian led him to a living room with- Oh no. Here it was. They were going to confront him about being a Halfa and hand him over to the GIW. Danny froze in the entryway, eyes hopping from Dick to Bruce to Damian and finally settling on Tim. That probably hurt the most, seeing Tim sitting there and realizing that his only friend hadn't been a friend at all. This must've shown on his face because not even a minute after setting his gaze on Tim was the boy jumping up from the couch and making his way toward Danny, stopping when he flinched back and took a step away from the entry. "Wait Danny! This isn't... We aren't going to hurt you."

A hand on his shoulder stopped him from stepping any further back and he looked up to see Alfred standing behind him. "Please, allow them to explain, Danny." And later he wouldn't be able to explain why he listened, only that deep down in the depths of his very core he knew that Alfred wouldn't let them hurt him. So he did, he entered the room and sat down.

Tim, as the only was standing, was the first to speak. "I'm sorry. We- I haven't acted like a good friend to you. I brought you here under false pretenses, I questioned you, I took your stuff, I-..." He seemed to cut himself off, his fists clenching at his sides. "What I did was wrong and you have every right to want nothing to do with me. I violated your trust, I didn't respect you or your belongings and I'm sorry. If you have secrets they are yours, to share or not share whenever you're ready."

And on it continued. Damian spoke, Dick spoke, Bruce spoke. They all apologized one after another. They said the only reason why Jason wasn't there was that he hadn't participated in any of it. That the first conversation he'd had with Danny had been enough and he didn't see a reason for their suspicions. "Jason said if you don't want to be here anymore you can stay with him. I would understand if you want that Danny. I'm so sorry for how I acted." Tim was the one who took lead, it seems after being the first to speak the others were fine with letting him continue to do so.

All in all, Danny didn't know how to feel. "I trusted you." It was the first time he'd spoken to Tim in weeks now. "You were my first and only friend since moving to Gotham and I thought that was genuine. Then I come here and you and your family treat me like some....some dangerous criminal! I just..." Danny wasn't ashamed to hear tears in his voice and he could barely get out all he wanted to say. "I think I'm going to take Jason up on that offer. Maybe if I'm out of your home you won't feel inclined to search for possible skeletons in my closet."

It hurt to say and the crumpled expression on Tim's face hurt even more but Danny just wasn't ready to forgive him yet. Sure Danny had been betrayed before but this hurt on a level that he couldn't articulate. Still, when no one said anything after that he left the living room and headed up to his room to pack. If he heard Tim actually start to cry then he ignored it, just like all the times he's sure the boy ignored him crying himself to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I tried to write fluff I swear officer, I don't know how that angst got there! I might tie this into the other WIP I wrote for Tim x Danny but I know if I do it will lead to me lowkey abandoning the Tomarry work I'm writing on Ao3.

Who knows though, I might just end up writing for both at the same time lol

Dp x dc fluff prompt

Danny, for whatever reason, is stuck with the batfam, and they're getting suspicious of him. But before there's any big reveal, before Danny feels pressured to act, Alfred steps in.

Alfred puts his foot down. He tells the bats that the boy is here to be safe, to be loved, and to be protected. Snooping on this would be a huge invasion of privacy, and other than just having powers, Danny hasn't done anything to warrant questioning. "He will come to you when he's ready"

Just a fun story of them doing their best to have Danny be comfortable, and slowly, Danny just casually starts using his powers. No one questions it. No one bothers with it. Danny has powers, so what?

Sure, they get curious sometimes, but Alfred said no snooping.

You can have the official reveal go however you want.

This prompt is very basic, but i just wanted a sweet and simple one.

[ferrarifinnick]

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR | KANG DAE-HO (PLAYER 388)

pairing: dom!dae-ho x reader

genre: smut (18+)

warnings: pda, voyerism, teasing, p in v, brat taming, sub/dom, handjob, dirty talk, overstimulation, car sex.

summary: a little stunt during family dinner brings out a side of dae-ho you’ve never seen before.

dae-ho was never one to turn down dinner with your parents. he had perfected the art of impressing your dad and flattering your mother, and tonight was no different. dae-ho shook your father’s hand, called him sir, and spent the whole evening attentively listening to his every word over dinner made by your mother. he nodded along, asked informed questions, and kept a perfectly straight face while you jerked him off under the dinner table.

“what were you saying about the — unngh,” he suddenly grunted as you squeezed his shaft. he quickly feigned a string of coughs, reaching for a glass of water while gesturing to his neck with a flustered wave of his hand.

your mother gasped. “oh, dear! let’s get you some more water,” she said, standing up from her seat to reach for the jug of water in the middle of the table.

“no!” dae-ho blurted out, pulling a napkin over his lap in an attempt to conceal your hand in his suit trousers. he quickly adjusted his alarm into a charming smile that convinced your mother to sink back into her seat. “thank you,” he said. “but it’s alright now. must’ve swallowed some of this delicious beef the wrong way!” he joked, chuckling heartily as your mother fawned.

“oh!” she said, flattered. “well, it’s just something i put together quickly…”

your father scoffed. “don’t listen to her, dae-ho. she’s been braising this beef all day, haven’t you honey?”

dae-ho seized another chunk of it in his chopsticks while your mother blushed. “well, that is clear in its flavour,” he said sweetly, then glanced to your father to add, “let’s hope i make it to the end of the meal, shall we?” he joked, and your father’s hearty laugh drown out the sharp breaths you pulled form dae-ho as you massaged his cock in your fist.

he shot you a warning glare while your parents were distracted in conversation.

at the end of the evening, after finishing your meal and enjoying some chatter over glasses of wine, dae-ho bid farewell to your parents by the door.

“thank you for a wonderful evening,” he said as your mother pulled him into a hug.

she kissed his cheek. “we always welcome your company, dae-ho,” she said, pinching his cheek affectionately. “such a pleasure to cook for.”

your father agreed, clasping dae-ho’s hand in a firm shake. “do come again soon.”

dae-ho’s eyes widened, and you knew by the redness flooding his cheeks that he is thinking about the sticky cum in his boxers. the situation you caused. he shot you a quick glance as the little giggle slipped from your lips, and while the dark flash of warning in his eyes went unnoticed by your parents, it’s didn’t to you.

he opened his arms. while you often savoured the security that came with the size of his muscles, it’s rare you’re intimidated by them. by the power they had over you. inching closer and pressing yourself against his chest, you’re squeezed flush against him as his arms wrapped around you.

he said your name. it dripped with tension, but it’s still intense with the affection you were so accustomed to. “it’s always lovely seeing you,” he said and leaned down to bury his face in your hair. his breath burned your skin, and you were suddenly aware of just hot quickly his heart was beating. how tense his muscles felt under yours.

you had really done it tonight. you had pushed him too far and found the side of dae-ho that rarely surfaced. the side that liked to punish you in the one way that’ll teach you never to misbehave again. frighteningly, and just a little bit thrillingly, you knew you would soon learn your lesson.

“did you enjoy your fun this evening?” he asked innocently enough, but it’s laced with so much meaning that a chill ran down your back.

you nodded cautiously. “i did,” you said, your hands hesitantly resting on his back. it suddenly felt so broad under your touch, and even as you slid them higher, all you discovered was more muscle under his shirt.

his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. you flinched into his hold, and his big arms held you steady, trapped you in his embrace. in his trap. exactly where he wanted you to be.

quiet enough for only you to hear, lips shielded from your parents in your hair, he whispered to you. “meet me in my car.”

with that, he pulled away and the warmth returned to his chipper demeanour as he waved you all farewell one last time. as your dad showed him out the door, he sent you one last look, before walking down the driveway. his car keys jingled purposefully with every step.

your reminder.

the front door closed, and your parents poured one final glass of wine before disappearing into the living room. you waited until they became engrossed in what was playing on the television, before quietly slipping out the front door, closing it with a soft click.

the headlights were already on, the passenger door popped open for you, and dae-ho wasted no time in driving out of your street. he parked up in a lonely alleyway nobody would ever use so late at night, and the second the ignition shut off, he pounced.

you had never had such a good view of the backseats as you did now with your face pressed against them, cheek raw as it brushed across the surface with every blow of dae-ho’s hips.

“is this what you wanted?” he grunted, one hand on the arch of your back, the other pushing your head down. “to get fucked like a little bitch in the back of my car?”

you cried as he delivered a thrust that reached so deep into your pussy you could swear it hit your cervix. he held you still as you struggled underneath him, his amusement coming out in a breathy scoff. you could only imagine the smug grin on his face.

“oh, is it too much, baby?” he cooed. “my dick too big for you, huh?”

the blow of his hips, the small but effective increase in his pace forcing the sob to bubble out of your throat. “yes!” you cried, and you didn’t know if you were answering him or asking for more.

“too bad,” he taunted, forcing his cock in even deeper. he slowly shifted more of his weight onto you, and the strangled groan he pulled from you only encouraged the speed of his thrusts. “you asked for this.”

he drove your body forward with each blow of his hips, and even as your body convulsed under his, he didn’t ease his pace. he fucked into you until you saw stars, and even as you clamped down and released on his cock, he didn’t stop. he rode you through your high and took you all the way to the next one, until your tears rolled down your cheeks and your arousal down your legs.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he asked from behind, drops of his sweat landing on the arch of your back. “isn’t this what you wanted?”

backseat loving with dae-ho…dreamy. please like, comment, reblog. love <33

[nitadllyss]

Just Like It All Began

Bangchan Idol x Female Reader

Genre: Romantic, Angst, Slow burn romance, Fluff, Smut, Basically a bit of everything.

Warnings: NSFW, angst, heartbreak, alcohol use, mature themes, fluff, emotional distress.

Blurb: Chan and you are in love, in a relationship full of passion, but when problems arise, everything starts to unravel. Distance and stress take over, while nostalgia and memories resurface, bringing a spark of hope.

---------------------------------------

There you were, kissing the man you promised to forget. But somehow, each kiss made you feel like the spark might never have left…

---

You were getting ready for a dinner invited by a friend, Felix. You knew there would be more people, specifically members of his group. You were nervous and excited to have a fun night and meet new people. You only knew them by sight, that’s all.

The dinner had already started. Everyone was enjoying themselves, chatting with one another. It was interesting to see how the atmosphere developed: everyone was so warm and kind. While talking about wanting to plan a vacation, you heard a member you hadn’t interacted much with.

“I definitely recommend Australia,” he said, smiling, very excited about his recommendation as he looked at you. “It’s really beautiful, and I’m planning to visit my family there, I could give you a tour.”

You felt your body heat up and your heart beat a little faster. Was he that... cute? You didn’t know how to express it. His smile made you feel happy, and those dimples that accompanied it made everything seem more harmonious: that prominent and straight nose that made him look strong, those small eyes that smiled along with his dimples. Damn, you had fallen.

“Really? Well, if you say so, I’ll have to consider it. I’ve heard a lot about how beautiful it is there thanks to Lix,” you returned the smile, trying to hide your state.

The others were talking amongst themselves, not noticing the interaction that wasn’t as casual as it seemed.

“Are you Y/N, right? Sorry, I’m a little shy, and I didn’t have the courage to talk before,” he said, a bit flushed. His voice tone showed his shyness.

“That’s right,” you smiled at him, trying to make him feel comfortable. “You’re Bangchan, right?” You looked at him closely, hoping you weren’t mistaken.

“Yes, but call me Chris.”

The rest of the dinner was amazing. Sometimes your heel would accidentally hit his shoe, making you both blush. When your laughs mixed, you both felt butterflies in your stomach.

---

You started seeing each other for a while, of course, with the other members, whom you also got close to easily.

Group hangouts were comfortable and fun. You really had a bond with everyone.

But with him, it was different. When his hand brushed against yours, he would play it off with a “Oops,” and smile while winking at you, probably aware of your warm cheeks and your shaky responses.

He brought your favorite snacks, suggested your favorite movies and outings. God, this man was going to kill you with his love.

“Did you remember?” you said, happy and excited to see that he brought your favorite chips and put on your favorite Disney movie.

“I just want you to feel comfortable,” he said, somewhat embarrassed. When the others teased him about his obvious flirtatious attitude, he would just say:

“I MEAN, I want all of us to feel comfortable!” This made you laugh.

Things escalated a step further when he offered to help you with the shopping. You were alone, and somehow it ended in a sweet kiss.

---

After that, coffee dates, dinners, movies, walks, and other activities became very frequent.

Being alone with him made you nervous, and your cheeks ached from smiling so much while with him. When you got home, you’d only think about how cute he looked that day and how much you couldn’t wait to see him again.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Chat with “Chris💕”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Chris: Are you busy next Saturday?😊

I was thinking of having a sleepover…😉🫣

We could order pizza and watch a drama.

Y/N: Sure!🙂‍↕️

It’s on my schedule, Mr. Bang.📝💗

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

After several sleepovers, came the first time you slept together.

“Y/N...” he said, a bit uncomfortable because of his stiff posture in bed, afraid to touch you too much and make you feel uncomfortable. “Do you mind if... I hug you?” His ears were bright red, and his hands started to sweat.

“It’s okay, feel comfortable, Chris,” you said, a little surprised by his proposal but happy it was him who said it.

That night, you slept comfortably with each other’s warmth. After that, he needed your head on his chest to sleep in peace, and you couldn’t rest without his caresses on your back. You both slept soundly, accompanied by the melody of each other’s heartbeat.

---

The room was a mess of moans and gasps. Some growls escaped his mouth, blending with the sound of the moisture of your skin touching.

“You feel so good,” he said, lost in how your walls squeezed around him. He couldn’t help but hold your hands above your head, applying pressure to push himself deeper.

You only responded with babbling and broken sighs, trying to form sentences like:

“It feels so big… You’re opening me up so well…”

“Come on, baby… Fuck,” he said, setting a harder and deeper pace. “Cum for me.” He kissed your neck, biting and licking it in the process.

Your body couldn’t resist anymore, and your screams of pleasure grew louder. When he whispered, “Beg for it. If you really want it, beg for it.”

“Please,” you begged with a trembling voice. “Please, Chris... Let me cum.”

His smile became evident, and after a while, you both reached your climax, sharing the pleasure and love in an orgasm.

They both felt an overwhelming desire for each other. The love between them grew stronger, and the need to be physically united pushed them to act irrationally, losing themselves in the heat of the moment.

---

You missed him so much. The comeback season was horrible for you. You missed his scent in bed, his good morning and good night kisses. You felt cold sleeping there alone, and don’t even get started on how much it broke your heart to eat alone at that table. Your days felt endless.

He regretted not being able to spend more time with you, to the point where he didn’t hear your voice for weeks. It was slowly killing him, but he knew his job had its place.

When you did see each other, you tried to make up for it by loving each other intensely during the days and weeks you couldn’t be together. Everything changed when he had his first tour.

“I miss you so much, baby,” Chris said, nostalgic, during a video call.

“I can’t wait to kiss you and hold you,” you said, also nostalgic.

But over time, even the video calls became less frequent. He was exhausted, and his schedules didn’t always match yours.

One day, you simply couldn’t bear it anymore. When you finally had a video call after two months, you saw him turn on the camera, and when he saw you in tears, Chris knew exactly what was about to happen.

“You know I love you, and that will never change,” you said, barely able to articulate each word between sobs. “But I need some time… You don’t know how much it hurts not having you here with me.”

He accepted, broken inside, but understanding it wasn’t fair to either of you. It hurt that he didn’t fight for you both.

---

When Chris returned, you saw each other and tried to fix things. For a while, it worked. But then, he came back late again, disappearing for weeks. You understood that you couldn’t take the place his career had in his life, and that was okay with you. You loved him too much to pressure him.

The definitive breakup was inevitable.

“I love you,” Chris said, tears streaming down his face as he hugged you tightly.

“I love you so much, Chris. Thank you for everything,” you said, looking at him with all the love you felt for him, knowing this would be your last goodbye.

You shared one last kiss, full of love and pain. Then, you each took a different path, without looking back.

---

Almost a year later, at another group meeting organized by Felix, you saw him again.

You both tried to keep your distance, but your eyes met several times during the night. You didn’t talk deeply, but you both knew you understood each other. There was something in the air, a calm despite the distance that now existed between you.

You were happy to see he was doing well. He, for his part, felt relief knowing you were okay, eating well, and getting enough sleep. You both were happy for each other’s happiness, whether together or not.

---

Now, you were at the bar you used to visit with him, spending what would have been your anniversary. Looking at your phone, the photo album reminded you of a picture of both of you smiling and hugging. The nostalgia hit you like a cold bucket of water.

You didn’t know why, but the drinks started to feel like water, and with each sip, you remembered something more: the way he laughed, his face when he woke up, his kisses before bed, and his warm voice when he sang.

“Y/N...” you felt your blood pressure drop as you heard that voice, still stirring the deepest feelings in you.

You turned quickly and saw him. He, probably slightly tipsy, was looking at you with a light smile on his face.

“Chris?” You looked at him, and it felt like time hadn’t passed.

You caught up on your lives. You were both still single. When you heard this, you felt an unexpected relief, and it gave him a bit of hope. You touched on the topic of your relationship, and at that moment, your heel brushed his shoe, causing a shared laugh over the memories of the past.

Now, you were there, face to face, kissing. Each kiss, every heartbeat shared, and the laughter that arose between your caresses made you feel that the spark was still there, waiting to not give up.

The spark might never have left…

---------------------------------------

I don’t know, but I loved this, to be honest 🤭

Christopher Bang 😩😩😩

I hope you all liked this piece!

English isn't my first language, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know. 💕

[arkofangels]

Don't wait up

Summary: In the heart of Gotham, you juggle the pressures of your final year at college and your prestigious Wayne Tech internship while sharing a cramped apartment with your chaotic but well-meaning roommate, Mia. A quiet night in quickly takes a turn when Jason Todd—your elusive criminology classmate—crashes, quite literally, onto your fire escape, wounded and bleeding.

a/n: slight swearing, mention of blood/injury, not proofread I wrote this half-asleep

You never thought Gotham would be home. Not really. It was a pit stop, a means to an end, a place where you could work, grind, and claw your way toward a future that didn’t involve dimly lit apartments and the constant hum of sirens outside your window. But Wayne Tech’s internship program was too good to pass up, and now, here you were—sharing a cramped studio apartment with Mia, your chaos-loving, party-going, endlessly exasperating roommate.

Mia was a hurricane, a whirlwind of bad decisions and infectious energy that somehow made life feel a little less bleak. She had a way of pulling you into her orbit, dragging you to bars, forcing you to meet new people, reminding you that there was more to life than deadlines and high-stakes projects. But tonight? Tonight, you needed quiet. Needed stillness. Needed a break from everything and everyone.

You curled up on your bed, cradling a mug of tea as lavender-scented air from your diffuser wrapped around you. The new semester was already stretching you thin—your grades had slipped last year, and you weren’t about to let that happen again. You had a plan. Study. Work. Graduate. Get the hell out of Gotham.

And then the window rattled.

The sound wasn’t loud, not at first, but something about it sent a spike of unease through you. The city had its own rhythm, its own sounds—the low thrum of traffic, the occasional shout in the distance, the ever-present hum of life pressing against the glass. But this? This was different. A sudden impact. A groan of metal under weight.

You turned, heart in your throat, just in time to see a shadow slump against the fire escape. A hand smeared red streaks across the glass, and beyond it stood the last person you’d ever expect to see in this part of the city.

Jason Todd.

You knew him. Or rather, you knew of him. The quiet guy in your criminology class who always sat in the back, never spoke unless called on, and somehow still managed to answer everything perfectly. The guy with the sharp eyes and the sharper wit, the one who never stuck around after lectures, always disappearing before anyone could get too close.

And, apparently, the guy bleeding out on your fire escape.

Your first instinct was to call the police. But something about that felt... wrong. Jason Todd wasn’t the type to be involved in anything illegal—at least, not in the way that would warrant calling the cops. But the leather jacket, the streak of red across his chest, the faint emblem of a bat barely visible beneath layers of fabric—it all told a different story.

Your stomach twisted.

You knew what you’d seen before. The Red Hood. A myth, a ghost, a brutal hand of justice that left criminals broken in Gotham’s gutters. You had seen him once, in passing, in Crime Alley when you’d taken the wrong turn after class. You’d been more intrigued by his tech than the man himself—wondering what kind of genius had built something so efficient, so powerful, so lethal.

And now he was here. Bleeding out. On your fire escape.

“Fantastic,” you muttered, grabbing the first aid kit you kept under your bed. You weren’t a medic by any stretch, but this was Gotham. Everyone had to learn basic wound care at some point.

You unlatched the window and shoved it open. The cold air bit at your skin as Jason tensed, his hand twitching toward the pistol at his side.

“Relax,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I'm just trying to help”

His mask tilted up, white lenses locking onto you. A pause. Then, with a grunt, he staggered forward, collapsing onto your couch with the kind of drama that suggested this wasn’t his first time doing this.

“Thanks,” he muttered, voice rough, like gravel scraped across asphalt. “Hope you’re not too attached to this couch.”

“Not particularly,” you shot back, already pulling out gauze and antiseptic. “But I’d rather not have to explain a bloodstain to my landlord.”

Jason let out something that might’ve been a laugh, but it turned into a wince. You peeled back the ruined fabric of his shirt, assessing the damage. A deep gash along his side, ugly but not fatal. He’d live. Assuming he didn’t pass out on you first.

That was Jason Todd. The guy who never talked in class. The guy who was always there but never quite present. And now, the guy bleeding out on your couch, wearing the unmistakable gear of the Red Hood. Your classmate. The vigilante. The myth you’d only half-believed was real.

Your hands kept moving, more out of instinct than conscious effort, dabbing antiseptic onto the wound, pressing gauze against it. The weight of the realization settled in your chest, heavy, cold.

Jason Todd was the Red Hood.

It should have sent you into a spiral. It should have had you freaking out, or at the very least, demanding an explanation. But instead, you found yourself slipping into something easier—small talk, grounding yourself in the mundane while your mind scrambled to process everything else.

“What the hell did you get into?” you asked, threading a needle with steady hands.

“Let’s just say Black Mask and I have some... unresolved issues.” His smirk was sharp, even through the pain. “He doesn’t play nice.”

“Neither do you, apparently.”

He didn’t deny it. Just watched as you worked, his breathing slowing as the pain dulled to something distant. You didn’t ask the obvious questions. Not yet. How long had he been doing this? How had no one figured it out before? What else had you missed, sitting three rows behind him in class, thinking he was just another student with sharp eyes and sharper instincts?

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken questions. You weren’t sure why you spoke, why you let curiosity override common sense, but the words tumbled out anyway.

“The mask,” you said, nodding toward the helmet on your coffee table. “Tech like that doesn’t come cheap.”

Jason’s lips quirked. “What, you looking to upgrade?”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “I’m a tech designer. It’s kind of my thing.”

He blinked, like he was seeing you for the first time. "Wayne Tech?" he asked, his gaze lingering on the employee ID you’d left on the coffee table, his expression unreadable.

“Intern,” you clarified, finishing the last stitch. “Not that I’d expect you to care, Mr. Vigilante.”

“Wayne Tech, huh?” His tone shifted, edged with something unreadable. “Guess that explains why you’re not running for the hills right now.”

You snorted. “Please. I’ve seen worse injuries in the R&D lab. You’re lucky I didn’t just slap a band-aid on it and call it a night.”

That earned a real laugh, low and rough, but not unpleasant. “Fair point.”

You leaned back slightly, taking him in. The Red Hood. Jason Todd. The same person. And yet, nothing about him had really changed. He was still the sharp-eyed guy from class, still the one who always seemed to know more than he let on. The only difference was that now you knew, too.

“Not many people build helmets with integrated HUDs and infrared vision,” you shot back, “or crash into my fire escape, bleed all over my couch, and make themselves at home, But here we are."

Jason smirked, something softer beneath it.

As the silence stretched between you, the sudden jingle of keys at the apartment door shattered the fragile stillness. Both of you froze, your breath catching in your throat.

Your stomach dropped.

Mia was home.

"Oh shit... that's my roommate," you whisper sharply, snatching Jason's mask off the table. Without thinking, you step closer and position yourself in front of him, blocking the unmistakable bat emblem on his chest with your body. It wasn’t subtle—you could feel Jason’s eyes on you, probably amused despite the situation—but it was the best you could manage under the circumstances.

The door flew open, and Mia swept in with her signature flair, her hair slightly disheveled and her eyeliner smudged. She froze mid-step when her eyes landed on Jason sitting on the couch.

"Uh... hi?" she said, raising an eyebrow, her gaze darting suspiciously between you and him. "Did I miss something?"

"This is... Jason," you said, fumbling for words and gesturing awkwardly toward him. "He’s in my Data Analysis class. Had a bit of an accident and, uh, needed some first aid."

Jason gave her a small nod, his expression unreadable. "Nice to meet you," he said smoothly, somehow managing to make the situation seem less bizarre than it was.

Mia narrowed her eyes for a moment, clearly not convinced, but then shrugged it off. "Right. Well, I’ll leave you two to... whatever this is," she said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and disappearing into her room without another word.

The door clicked shut, and you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. "That was close," you muttered, turning back to Jason. He was leaning back now, one eyebrow raised, clearly amused.

“Data Analysis class? Really?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest smirk.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "You're welcome for saving your secret identity, by the way. And it's not that bad—we're going to the same college. She’s bound to see you around campus eventually."

You let the silence settle for a moment before shifting your weight, glancing at him. "So," you began, your voice softer now. "What's it like? Being..." You gestured vaguely at his suit.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Being what? A guy who bleeds on random people’s furniture?”

You rolled your eyes. “A vigilante. You know what I mean.”

He leaned back, his gaze fixed on you, as if weighing how much to reveal. “It’s not glamorous, if that’s what you’re asking. You get used to stitches, bruises, and sleeping with one eye open. But… someone’s gotta do it.”

You shifted on your feet, watching him carefully. "Hey, you know you don’t have to do this, right? There are people—Batman, for one—who can handle this kind of thing."  

Jason let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Batman can’t save everybody." His voice was firm, unwavering. "Someone has to step up."  

"And that someone has to be you?" you asked, your voice quieter now.  

He shrugged. "Guess so. Not like I could sit back and watch this city tear itself apart."  

Your lips pressed into a thin line. There was something undeniably admirable about his resolve, even if it sounded like a lonely existence. A life of sacrifice. Before you could respond, the sharp buzz of Jason’s phone cut through the quiet room. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening.

“Trouble?” you asked.

“Always,” he muttered, standing up and grabbing his jacket. 

“Thanks for the patch-up. I owe you one.”

And just like that, he was gone, swallowed by Gotham’s shadows. You stood by the window for a long moment, the cool night air brushing against your skin. 

You weren’t sure what this meant, if it meant anything at all. But one thing was certain—Jason Todd had crashed into your life, and something told you he wasn’t done yet.

[f1-stuff]

hello mal. would you share your favourite charlos moments as teammates? i would love to know what you really think is the best

Hello! I was putting this off bc it was causing me much distress just thinking about which moments I would choose, but here we are! You didn't specify how many so I narrowed it down to my all-time top 10, with a few honorable mentions.

You did specify 'as teammates', so I'm gonna leave out the infamous singapore 2018 pool, tho it is an all-time charlos moment to be sure... The order is honestly kind of random because I found it really hard to rank them (don't ask a mother to choose her favorite child!)

10. Cookie decorating!! (2022) - I love this video so much (which is why I made a whole charlos flirting video essay about it). It's just chock-full of classic ways the two of them interact and joke around (Charles trying to blindfold Carlos for him, constantly trying to steal things out of his hands, both whistling/humming the same song at different points, touching constantly...). And why were they sitting like this?? (we know why) Anyway, I don't think we talk about it enough.

9. Monza Ferrari battle (2023) - I simultaneously love and hate this moment asfghdka which is maybe why it's down so low on the list. It's the most adrenaline and anxiety I've ever had watching F1 (I was literally running circles around my living room, yelling at the TV). But I think it also just exemplifies how competitive the two of them are, how hard they race each other without crashing. Like, their rivalry is core characterization for them, therefore it had to be on the list!!

(their tyres are literally kissing) ((this was foreplay for them))

8. Bahrain 1-2 (2022) - A classic!! Their first double podium and 1-2 as teammates! Their hug in parc ferme!! Carlos trying to pour wine into Charles' mouth on the podium!!! They were so giddy and happy, and it felt like the start of an incredible year...(we all know how it really turned out 🥴) This could maybe be higher on the list, but it feels so long ago now that I think I'd need to rewatch the race to draw back up those emotions again.

7. 'Lord Perceval' is coined (2021) - This whole moment is so cute, and it became pretty iconic since the team would go on to use the nickname a lot, and it spread throughout the fandom. It's sort of funny bc they were clearly joking around, but it caught on. They became the Smooth Operator and Lord Perceval, and I think that's beautiful.

6. Monaco hug (2024) - It was actually harder than I thought to choose between this one and the Monza '24 one. They both feature Carlos being super happy for a Charles win, his patented charles hair grab, as well as charlos cradling each other heart-to-heart, cheek-to-cheek. ❤️ I went with Monaco bc it came first in the year so had a greater impact on me, and bc Charles finally broke the Monaco curse.

5. Carlos' birthday surprise (2022) - Set the standard for Charlos birthday shenanigans. Charles complaining about his legs cramping in the cupboard LOL. I just love how happy Carlos looked in all those clips... Also, they were on their honeymoon that weekend or something, because there was also the 'I know you very well' hilarious lissie mackintosh vid and the 'you're doing great love'.

4. The bracelet video (2023) - Just...iconic. Charles asking Carlos for help with his bracelet and Carlos calling him 'darling,' asking for a kiss afterward. They've never been more married.

3. THE tiktok (2022) - This might be too high on the list tbh, but for the sheer shock value of waking up to it that day and the mania it caused in the charlos community, it's a hard one to beat. 😂

2. C² song challenge in Fiorano (2021) - this one gets the place of honor as #2 bc it's charlos' favorite moment together (along with Bahrain '22). They've both mentioned a few times that they fondly remember that day, and how much they laughed. It's also at the very beginning of their partnership, and it shows how immediately they acted like giddy besties.

1. Chili plushie (2024) - Okay. I guess?? This is my all-time favorite charlos moment??? 🥺 It was my favorite of 2024, so it could be recency bias. But something about it being the start of their bittersweet end...Carlos gifting him the chili...'so you remember me for the rest of your life'...Charles in his denial era...oof. I just really love these two, and this moment made me emotional about their years of friendship, rivalry, and shenanigans soon coming to an end.

This was so hard!!! But alas, I forced myself to narrow it down, and also to try and represent all of the years of their partnership, in different scenarios (racing/non-racing). Obviously, there are so many other amazing moments, so I'll consider it a blessing that we are so spoiled for choice as charlos fans ❤️

Honorable mentions (that I struggled not to include):

Drivers' parade car with swapped names

'Jazz'

Mexico balls grab

Blindfolded sim racing bdsm hair-pulling !!

Train sandwich share

Miami start-stop challenge

'jamon iconico'

Jenga challenge (my first ever f1 gifset!!)

Charles snoozing next to Carlos during football

Goggle games

'Take off your clothes, Carlos'...

There's just so many 😌

[alea-jottun]

Unpopular opinion :

I see people trying to determine whether Arcane s2 is pro-this, anti-that, etc. But the truth is : that's not worth it, because S2 is nothing. It doesn't and cannot say anything meaningful because it was not written in this optic. It's like trying to analyse pictures taken by a man who randomly pushed the button of his camera because he liked the shutter sound.

S2 is not a coherent story in itself, and is not a proper continuation of s1 either. It's at the level of a child playing with dolls. You cannot analyse a non-existent story in which the plot and characters are completely different in each episode.

Let's be real, S2 is an extremely expensive, terribly written fanfic (in fact calling it a fanfic is an insult to actual Arcane fanfics. Many s1 Arcane fanfics did s2 better than actual s2).

EDIT : to be clear, my post wasn't about the writers' personal bias and how they might seep into the story. It was about the lack of intent and coherence of s2.

If you try to analyse s2 and conclude that it says "A", your analysis is based on plot points from s2. But these plot points were written without any proper intent, and are not coherent nor cohesive (there is simply too much randomness and self-contradiction in s2). If the writers had felt slightly different the day they wrote these plot points, they could very well have written something completely different. The plot is not solid. Therefore : yes, s2 may say "A" if you look for it, but it could just as well have said "B" because the plot could have gone in a thousand other directions, due to its lack of a proper storyline.

Which leads me to conclude that if s2 says "A", but could just as well have said "B" on a whim, then it doesn't really say anything at all. 

[apomaro-mellow]

Govt gets kas!Eddie 6

Part 5

For the most part, everyone got used to Eddie and his new form relatively quickly. Considering his new attributes and the fact he was still working on forming full sentences, that itself was a feat. If anything, the part that took the most adjusting too was how he clung to Steve now. And he really clung. Steve was used to it, in private, at least. The first time Eddie hugged him from behind, pressing himself to Steve from shoulder to ankle, right when they were in the middle of discussing what to do about Vecna...well Steve thought he might die.

Everyone gave them looks but no one said anything. At least, not at the time. Steve wasn't ready for them to be completely out yet. But he wasn't going to push Eddie away. He thought he'd never get this again. Never see Eddie again, much less be held by him.

"I just don't get why he's so close with you all of a sudden", Erica said.

"I've been thinking the same thing", Mike agreed.

"They've got a weird bond", Dustin said.

"Yeah, but like, since when?", Lucas asked, also curious.

Eddie was out in the yard. It was dark out, so they weren't worried about anyone seeing him. And he'd gotten the urge to patrol lately. Maybe he could feel Vecna trying to get close or something? Either way, that left Steve to field the questions.

"He and I did go to school for years. Back when you guys were still in diapers", he snarked.

Dustin frowned. "Yeah, but that doesn't explain why you two are all-"

"Can we get back to the important stuff?", Steve cut him off. "Like anything else?"

"Okay, why are you in sweats all the time?", Erica asked. "Did you just give up on life or something?"

Steve groaned and rolled his eyes. He got up just when more people came in through the front door. One of which was Hopper. Who had been giving him and Eddie odd looks from the start. Steve escaped to the laundry room to do a load. Once alone, he put a hand to his stomach. He'd gone for sweatpants more often lately, simply because suddenly his jeans stopped fitting.

He brought a hand to his stomach but snatched it away when Hopper appeared in the doorway. His arms were crossed as he looked Steve up and down. Steve opened his mouth to ask what was up but Hopper beat him to it.

"I don't know just what's goin' on with you and Munson. But I know it's something."

"Yeah...so?", Steve felt defensive.

"Is that really how you wanna live?"

"And what's that got to do with you, Jim?", Wayne asked, coming by with a basket of clothes.

"I'm not the kind to judge. I just don't think they need to flaunt it. Especially in front of the kids."

"Get your head outta your ass", Wayne said, setting the basket down.

Hopper uncrossed his arms and frowned. "I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. What they do when they're alone is none of my business, but-"

"No buts, that's the end of the sentence. It's none of your business. These boys have been through too much to have to deal with you or anyone else telling them how to live."

"You sound like you're ready to fight for it", Hopper took a step toward him. "You remember I'm a cop right? And that I served?"

"Yeah we all got Uncle Sam's letter", Wayne said, taking a step towards Hopper. "You're tellin' me you never met anyone like them? People who got more letters from 'brothers' than from any missus? No one who took extra long in the showers?"

"That was wartime, it was different."

Wayne grinned and his shoulders shook like he was about to laugh and Steve was struck by how similar he seemed to Eddie.

"You just worry about Creel's boy. This ain't a fight you're gonna win."

Hopper let out a breath and turned to walk away. Steve sighed in relief and only then did he notice he'd had a hand to his stomach, almost protectively. Wayne said nothing as he put the basket of clothes in the wash and Steve appreciated that. It gave him a moment to think of how he'd approach a certain topic with Eddie later.

It was about midnight when Steve felt Eddie slip back into the nest. Wayne had pretty much moved into the guest room upstairs. Robin was in Steve's bedroom. And some of the kids had taken up residence in his parents' bedroom. Eddie's arms wrapped around his torso. Steve could tell he was in a mood more romantic than lustful tonight. Before the change, they'd taken whatever moments alone that they could and they did so now too.

The first time they'd made love in this nest had been about two weeks ago and since then they'd done it about every other day. Steve would have blamed Eddie's new form for the insatiability but they were both like this before too. Every time they did it though, Eddie talked of breeding. Steve's hand went to his front, where Eddie's hands were.

"Ed?", he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Am I...? Eddie did you-did we-?" He huffed and turned around to face Eddie, then grabbed a flashlight and put it on the couch near their heads to illuminate the room without having to get up and hit a switch.

"Steve?"

Steve met his gaze and then slowly lifted his shirt. It wasn't just his jeans that fit different. His shirts too. And now, in the near dark with only Eddie to see, Steve could admit it. His stomach was growing.

"I think I'm..." The 'p' word was on the back of his tongue and Steve felt like nothing short of his stomach heaving would make it come up.

Eddie was looking at him in awe. His hands, sharp to the point, touched him as gentle as ever. He cooed and Steve felt it before his brain registered seeing it. A wriggling in his gut. Now if, perhaps, Steve had been born with a body that held the right parts to receive and grow new life, he mightn'tve been so surprised. But as it was, he was not. So he could be forgiven for his reaction.

"AAHH WHAT THE SHIT!"

And since all in the house were experienced veterans in their own way, it could also be expected that they'd all converge, various kinds of weapons in hand.

"What is it?!", Robin asked, holding one of Steve's trophies.

"Demogorgon? Are you cursed?!", Dustin shrieked, brandishing his dad's fraternity paddle.

The rest were looking around to find the danger. There was absolutely no way in hell that Steve was telling them he was currently carrying...something.

"There was a...uh a spider", Steve said. "It's gone now."

The rest of them groaned but visibly relaxed and returned to bed. Sure, Steve's reputation was shot even more, but it wasn't like most of them held him in super high regard to begin with anyway. He laid back down, trying to relax as well and Eddie's hand was instantly on his stomach.

"Pups", he said simply, looking at his stomach in pure adoration.

Steve gave himself a minute to process it. He thought Eddie had simply been all talk. But something was inside of him now. Something that was growing. Something that Eddie was already fond of. He thought about them before. The dreams they'd had, the life they had wanted. Steve had never been shy about wanting a family that included children. They hadn't known how that'd be possible, given their circumstances. But Eddie had assured him.

"Gonna give you everything you want, sweetheart. You deserve it."

Steve was brought back to the present by something soft touching his belly. Eddie's lips. Steve stroked his hair.

"Pups", Eddie repeated.

"O-ours?", Steve stuttered out.

"Ours", Eddie echoed, smiling up at him.

Leave it to Eddie Munson to keep his promises in the way people least expect.

Part 7 coming soon

Taglist

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@reverseteehee @stedestielfrattficlover

[siren-in-the-shadow]

Can I request Astarion x Sweet Reader please?

Astarion x Sweet! Reader

PT. 1

The evening air was cool as you wandered the quiet corridors of the camp, admiring the stars overhead. It was a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos, and you felt a strange sense of comfort in the stillness.

You were so caught up in the tranquility that you didn’t notice Astarion approaching until you heard his voice, smooth as velvet, interrupt the silence.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” His tone was light but unmistakably mischievous as he leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed, watching you with that calculating gaze of his.

You smiled at him, warmth spreading through you from his presence. “Just enjoying the night,” you said softly, taking a moment to look up at the stars. “It’s nice to have a break from everything.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “A break?” he repeated, stepping closer with that predatory grace of his. “How positively quaint. I was under the impression you were one for excitement—yet here you are, indulging in the quiet. How very... sweet.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his teasing tone. “I enjoy quiet moments too. It doesn’t always have to be chaos.”

“Oh, how charming,” he drawled, though the hint of amusement in his voice betrayed his genuine curiosity. “You know, I often forget that such simple pleasures exist. Perhaps I should try one for myself.” His smirk deepened, a hint of mockery lacing his words. “But I’m not sure I could handle being this... wholesome for long. It might rot my insides.”

You smiled warmly, amused by his cynicism. “Maybe it’s not about being wholesome,” you said gently, “but about finding balance. I think you could use a little more of that.”

Astarion let out a sharp laugh, stepping closer, his gaze locked on yours with that dangerously intense look. “Balance?” he mused, his voice taking on a darker edge. “I don’t do balance, darling. I do indulgence. I do passion. I do... everything that leaves the sweet and innocent behind in favor of something far more interesting.”

He reached out, his fingers grazing your cheek lightly, his touch featherlight but possessive. “But I must admit,” he continued, his voice dropping slightly, “there’s something about you that makes me want to reconsider all of that. Something in your sweetness, your... unwavering goodness.”

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, and for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. “You really are quite the puzzle, aren’t you?”

You felt a shiver at his words, but there was something different in his voice this time—less of the teasing and more of an unspoken admiration. Still, true to his nature, he couldn’t resist adding his signature flair.

“I’m sure your sweetness would be the death of me,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear with a wicked grin. “But I’d certainly die trying.”

I hope you liked it ! 🥰 wasn't really sure where to take this...but this is where I ended up haha ❤️

Writing this actually brought upon another fic idea. Here I tried to make Astarion a bit more game accurate with his sass and all. My next fic will be a Sweet! Astarion X Reader :) I guess it'll be a part 2?...

Update: part 2 is here !

Siren