#but for now i just want to revel in their tenderness

[yeomongi]

𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — ᡣ𐭩

genre: smut!! MDNI, 18+ content below cut

pairing: mingi x you

word count: ~2k

warnings: names (love, darling, good girl once..) unprotected sex(don’t), oral sex (m&f receiving), fingering, TONS OF SPIT PLAY, spit kink, cumming inside, i think that’s all!! no proofread

synopsis: confessing to mingi that you have a spit kink led to him spitting on and all over you during your passionate encounter.

note: this was a request!! not sure how i feel about how it turned out, but hope everyone enjoys :) sorry if it’s not the best 😓reblogs and interactions appreciated! <3

you wake up one Saturday morning, the sun casting a warm glow across your shared bedroom. mingi's arm is slung over your waist as he sleeps soundly beside you. you feel his steady breathing against your neck, a comforting presence after the passionate night you two just shared.

your fingers idly trail down his strong back, a content smile playing on your lips as you relish the closeness. he stirs a bit, mumbling something in his sleep, and you can't help but giggle quietly.

mingi begins to wake, blinking his eyes open and squinting at the sunlight spilling onto the bed. when he sees you gazing at him, his face softens into a smile. "morning, love," he murmurs, leaning in for a tender kiss.

the kiss quickly grows more intense, hands roaming and tongues tangling. it doesn't take long before things start to heat up again. mingi's fingers find their way between your legs, stroking your sensitive folds and making you gasp against his mouth.

the passion between you builds, fueled by last night's unspoken desires waiting to ignite anew.

he pushes you back onto the pillow, hovering over you as your legs spread willingly for him. his hot breath fans over your flushed skin as his thumb circles your clit, sending shivers through you.

"you're already wet for me again," he purrs, his voice low and husky.

you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. words escape you in this moment, lost in the haze of desire for this man you love so deeply.

mingi gazes into your eyes, dark irises boring into yours. he leans closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, "tell me what you want, darling."

your breath hitches at the feel of his warm breath on your lobe, a thrill running down your spine. without thinking, the words tumble out:

"i... i want..." you pause, cheeks burning hotter than before.

"say it," mingi urges, his grip on you firm yet gentle. you know he won't judge, only love you more.

a surge of boldness courses through you. "i want..." you trail off, steeling yourself.

"say it, my love," he repeats, his voice so sweet yet commanding. his eyes bore into yours, encouraging you to let go.

"i... i want you to... to spit in my mouth..." you whisper, the confession tasting both exhilarating and taboo on your lips. you hold your breath, unsure how mingi will respond.

to your surprise, he chuckles softly. "is that all you wanted?" he teases, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. without warning, he spits into his palm and rubs it over your lips - a bold, yet tantalizing gesture.

your eyes widen, cheeks flushing crimson. the sensation sends a fresh jolt of excitement through you. you part your lips instinctively, craving more.

mingi seems taken aback for a moment, staring down at you with a mix of shock and fascination. he's never seen this side of you before. but before long, his expression shifts into one of darkened desire.

"you like that, don't you?" he growls, his own need palpable now. he watches you intently as he leans in, his hot, heavy breath washing over you. without hesitation, he spits directly onto your tongue. the salty fluid coats your senses, igniting a fire within you.

this unexpected revelation, this act... it's raw, primal. an unspoken connection between you both deepening further.

you nod frantically, the feeling overwhelming yet incredibly pleasurable. you suck in your bottom lip, tasting him still, wanting more. it seems to spark something primal within mingi as well.

"god, yes..." he groans, his fingers pressing harder against your slick folds as he gazes down at you with newfound fervor.

he pulls back just enough to speak again, voice hoarse. "is this what you needed?"

you manage a weak "yes," your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

mingi smiles, his own hunger reflected in his eyes. he gathers your hair, tilting your head back to expose your neck as he spits again, this time onto your chest, dripping across your skin.

the coolness of his spittle contrasts with the heat building between you, sending shivers through your body once more. your hands reach out to pull him closer, desperate for more contact, more of his unique brand of affection.

"please..." you whisper, not even sure what you're begging for - relief, possession, simply to drown in the intensity.

mingi understands without words, his breath coming in ragged gasps. he lowers himself between your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours as he takes one last look. then, he opens his mouth and lets out a thick glob of saliva that glistens in the sunlight before landing squarely on your sensitive bud.

the sensation is electric, your back arching off the bed at the sudden contact. he watches you intently, his fingers tracing patterns up your inner thighs.

"like that, baby?" he purrs, voice low and taunting. he repeats the action again and again - spitting liberally over your quivering flesh until you're dripping wet with his essence.

your senses are alive, consumed by his overwhelming presence. he dips his head down, tongue lapping up some of his own spittle before settling between your folds. you feel the rough scrape of his tongue against you, the velvety softness as he gathers your slickness on it, then back to spitting again.

it's messy, it's primal, and it's the most exhilarating thing you've ever experienced together. your fingers twist and tug at the sheets in ecstasy, every nerve ending on fire.

mingi's eyes sparkle with delight at your reactions, egged on by your cries and movements. he seems to take pleasure in pushing these boundaries with you, discovering new depths of intimacy.

he lifts his gaze back up to meet yours, holding it steadfastly as he spits directly onto your hardened peak once more. his hot, wet breath fans out over your pulsing nerves before his lips close around you.

the sensation is divine, the musky taste of him mingling with the raw saltiness on your tongue. he sucks with purposeful intensity, laving and lapping while his fingers dance across your hips and thighs - all the while periodically interrupting with another spurt of his warm, viscous fluid.

your hips buck wildly beneath him, lost in the intoxicating rhythm he's set. you feel so alive, consumed by his relentless attentions.

he lifts his head briefly, a trail of his spit stretching from his mouth to you, before he gazes down with a wicked grin. he dips two fingers inside you, curving them to stroke that sweet spot deep within. your heart thuds in sync with the thrusts of his hand as he brings his mouth back down, this time spitting directly onto your clit again and again.

the building pressure within you threatens to overwhelm - the lewd sounds of his actions echoing in the room only heightening your senses. you feel stretched thin by the pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on the exquisite friction.

"mingi...please..." you plead, your voice hoarse, begging for release.

mingi seems determined to push you closer yet. he slips his fingers from you only to replace them with his tongue, lapping fervently while his hands grip your thighs firmly.

"you taste...so good...covered in my spit..." he groans against you, sending vibrations through your core.

the words drive you wild, your body shuddering uncontrollably beneath him. you know your climax is close now, every fiber of your being coiled tight like a wire ready to snap.

he brings his mouth back to your spit-soaked bud, sucking hard while simultaneously spitting once, twice more - the cooling sensation sending you hurtling over the edge.

waves of pure bliss crash through you, your back bowing off the mattress as you cry out his name. he holds you steady through every tremor, lapping up every drop of your essence mingled with his gifts.

when the aftershocks finally subside, you lie there gasping, spent and utterly satisfied. mingi crawls up next to you, kissing your temple tenderly.

"did you like that, my love?" he murmurs against your ear, his own breathing slowly returning to normal.

you nod, still floating in the hazy afterglow. this newfound connection between you has deepened the bond you share even further. you turn to face him, tracing the curve of his jawline with your fingertips.

“can i…” you start hesitantly, eyes locked on his.

mingi understands without words again, sensing your desire to reciprocate. he smiles, a soft yet confident look that makes your heart skip a beat.

"of course, darling..." he purrs, his hands guiding your head towards his lap.

your nerves flutter as you move into position, gazing up at him with a blend of excitement and anticipation. you feel his heartbeat pounding beneath you, a steady rhythm that pulses through his length.

he runs his hands through your hair, gently encouraging you onward. your tongue darts out, tasting the salt on his skin before you take him into your mouth.

it's different this way - bold and intimate. you swirl and explore every ridge and vein, feeling him grow even harder as you do. you crave more - more of him, more of what he's giving you.

your actions become bolder still; you look up defiantly as you take him deeper, the velvety heat of your mouth enveloping every inch. you grasp his thighs for stability, your own hips bucking slightly.

mingi gasps, body tensing under you, then he guides you back onto him with a hoarse whisper: "spit on me, just like that..."

you obey, withdrawing him from between your lips momentarily to spit directly on his tip. the droplets run down his shaft, slick and shining. taking him back into your mouth, you repeat the action again and again - a relentless rhythm interspersed with the hot, wet sounds of your affection.

mingi's fingers tighten in your hair as he watches you lose yourself in this newfound delight. he meets each plunge of your mouth with a roll of his hips, driving deeper but never forcing.

your cheeks hollow as you establish a steady pace that feels almost primal yet incredibly sweet. you relish the control you have over his pleasure, the power dynamics shifting yet complementary.

your own desire builds anew, the friction of your movements against him stoking the flames. hands roaming your back, mingi whispers words of praise that send shivers down your spine: "good girl...take it all..."

you feel his muscles tremble beneath you, the telltale signs he's close - closer than before. you double down on your efforts, wanting to push him over that edge.

you can taste the saltiness of his essence gathering on your tongue, thick and intoxicating. you know it won't be long now. your hands grip tighter, fingers digging into his thighs as you quicken your pace, spitting generously down on him.

mingi's breaths come in ragged gasps, his body taut as steel. suddenly he pulls you away from him with a groan, stopping your movements just as he reaches his peak.

"need...need to be inside you," he manages through gritted teeth, his voice strained yet commanding.

he positions you on your back once more, spreading your legs wide. gazing into your eyes, there's a hunger there that makes your heart thrill. but then he surprises you...

he spits squarely on your entrance, coating your tender flesh with that final, bold act. you feel the warmth seep into you, completing this deeply intimate exchange.

with a low growl, he presses into you in one long, smooth thrust, filling you completely as he begins to move. the sensation is electrifying, every part of you connected.

"yes..." he cries out, hands gripping your hips as he finds a rhythm that speaks of all he's feeling. the sound of his hips slamming against you echoes out the rhythm of your new dance.

the feeling of him claiming you this way - so raw, so intense - intensifies the high. every stroke brings fresh waves of pleasure, his spit acting as a slick, slippery barrier between you both.

your nails rake down his back, the pleasure-pain mingling deliciously. your own hips move in time with his, meeting each pounding snap with fervor.

"more..." you whisper, lost in ecstasy, craving deeper still.

mingi nods, reaching between you both to rub tight circles around your sensitive clit, his thumb slick with the remnants of his spit. the stimulation pushes you closer, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

"let it go, darling. with me," he pleads, voice low and insistent.

your body arches up off the sheets again, every fiber straining toward that precipice. you surrender to the tide crashing through you, the shared release of your essences mingling in the space between you.

it goes on, the aftershocks prolonged by the intensity of this new experience. finally spent, you lay intertwined, gasping and spent, your gazes locked, your breathing gradually returning to normal.

"I love you," mingi murmurs, brushing your cheek with a tender sweetness that balances the intensity of what just occurred.

[loveliluc]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ to carry a dragon’s love ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

— ft. neuvillette, zhongli

synopsis — you’re their precious little mate, and how much more perfect you’ll be when you’re carrying their seed; 1.5k words.

— minors do not interact! unprotected sex. breeding. mating. marking. they have draconic anatomy. double penetration. fem!reader.

— neuvillette 𝜗𝜚

sharp teeth sink into your shoulder and you mewl into the plush pillow. the ache of them in your flesh paired with the way his cocks lodge deep inside of you has you lost somewhere between pleasure and pain. you’re gripping the sheets until you’re knuckles turn white. you’re drooling and your hair is wild around your head; you’re an absolute wreck under him now.

neuvillette’s hips crash against your ass in a loud smack, your slickness adding a lewd wet sound to the action that makes your cheeks burn hot. you hear him grunt from behind you. “you will be the end of me, my love.”

he’s not fairing much better than you, in truth. his breathing is labored and his thrusts are erratic. he’s not the normal neuvillette you’re so used to seeing; no, he’s much more carnal now, so much more like the dragon that he is. he’s fueled by his most primal of instincts, the tight wrap of you around him urging him to take you, utterly and completely.

“neuvillette,” you cry his name in that saccharine melody he adores so much, the one that melts his heart and makes his cocks twitch against the confines of your walls.

“when you say my name like that, my love, i simply cannot help myself.” and the next thrust into you is brutal and bruising and so deep your breath is knocked from your lungs. he’s fucking you with a purpose, fucking into you so right that you’re sobbing into the pillow.

you know what he’s wanting, what he’s after, and you’re almost unraveling at the mere thought of it.

he’s all too aware of the squeeze of your walls and he groans, muffling the sound with another bite to your shoulder. it’s already marked, and he just can’t help but revel in the fact that’ll be days before it leaves your pretty skin. “you are close, yes?”

you attempt a nod and a small, broken moan that resembles the word yes.

“how perfect you are for me, my love.” neuvillette is flush against you, pressing you deeper into the mattress while his hips maintain a ruthless rhythm, urging you closer and closer to your climax. “do you still want it? please, tell me you do. tell me you still want me to mate you, breed you.”

his voice is deep and gravelly yet tender, and his words are so lewd that you whine underneath him. you know his dragon nature has taken over, you know it’d be practically impossible for him to not breed you now, to sink his seed so deep into your womb with a promise to gift you a child, an offspring. but above all he always wants your approval, and you’re so thankful for that.

“yes,” you hiccup, back arching and ass attempting to meet his hips with little thrusts of your own. a way to show him how eager and willing you are. “i want it. please neuvillette!”

the sovereign above you grins with elation, his hands gripping your waist as he increases his thrusts to a bruising pace; but even with the wild way he takes you, you still feel love in every kiss of his cocks against the deepest parts of you, every squeeze of his palms against your skin.

“you will be my lovely mate, so beautiful pregnant with our young.” he’s close, achingly so. he’s driving into you deep and hitting the sweetest of spots until you’re shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

you cum with a cry of his name and tight squeezes around his cock. it’s maddening, the pleasure he gives you, and it’s heightened by the promise of his seed, of what it means to be taken so wholly by your mate.

neuvillette is close behind you, reaching his own completion with a guttural groan that echoes against the bedroom walls. he empties himself within you, stilling his hips to plug your holes so that not a single drop goes to waste. you’ve never felt so full in your life.

in your post orgasm state, you barely register the way he kisses all the marks he left behind, soothing the aftermath of his desire. “you did well, my love.”

you breathe as his hands caress your frame. “i love you.”

and oh, how he loves you, his most beautiful mate. his one and only.

— zhongli 𝜗𝜚

“relax, dearest. you are doing so well for me.”

the soft baritone of your lover’s voice fills the space between you and you feel your muscles ease at the sound immediately. zhongli coos while his large palms soothe at the plush flesh of your thighs, careful of his long claws against your precious skin. he pushes your legs open even wider to allow his hips to drive in deeper and you keen when he seems to reach beyond what you can even fathom, broken mewls spilling out of your kiss-swollen lips.

“ah, that’s it. so perfect,” the godly being groans above you at the tight squeeze of your walls around him; he’s got you filled to the brim with both of his large cocks, and they sit heavy and hot in the wet depths of you.

you whimper when he shifts your hips upwards for better leverage. he settles your thighs at his waist while his hands grip even tighter into your hips. he slides even deeper into your weepy holes and all you can do is lay against the sheets and take what he gives. “zhongli, my love, please. i’m so full.”

zhongli’s hips retract before springing forward to offer you swift thrust. the clap of skin resounds in the air of your bedroom and it’s so beautifully lewd it makes your walls flutter. he’s looking at where your bodies are joined with the upmost adoration and love, amber eyes bright and so incredibly soft with fondness. “feels wonderful, doesn’t it?” he palms at the evident bulge in your tummy; he doesn’t miss the way you shudder under his hot touch. “you feel divine. so immensely perfect–” a thrust, “–around me.”

he presses forward, your thighs giving way as his larger frame folds yours in half. he mouths down your cheek to your neck, sharp teeth pricking playfully at your skin until you’re whining out. he’s so much deeper like this, in this mating press he’s now got you in. he thrusts and you swear the force of it shakes you to your core.

“going to breed you,” zhongli says lowly, voice gravelly and rough as he begins to lose himself to the way you wrap around his cocks. “my perfect little mate. you’ll take every last drop of my seed. won’t you, my dearest?”

your mouth opens to reply but oh how your lover likes to tease, driving his cocks deeper at the same time as you begin to speak; instead of words, the most helpless cry tumbles out of your throat.

teeth sink into the flesh of your neck hard, leaving behind a mark that’ll remain for the days to come. “you’ll be so beautiful pregnant with our child, all round and full. don’t you think so?” zhongli picks up his pace suddenly and your body rattles underneath him, crystalline beads falling down your cheeks as you grow overwhelmed. “tell me, you’ll let me make you wholly mine, yes? be the best mate and mother of our offspring.”

your mind is so full of cotton and pleasure and his words do nothing to help you, wearing you down until all that remains is the most vulnerable parts of you. you, your body are his. you give yourself to him completely; you wish to say it, to tell him, but in this state all you can manage is a broken, “yes!”

he’s pressing a languid kiss against your lips, swallowing your cries of bliss before his tongue slips its way through your lips, laving at your wet mouth with its forked tip. it’s messy just like what lies between your thighs where he enters you, over and over and as he fucks you closer to your completion. you’re so pliant and malleable for him as he molds you to his desire.

there’s a clawed thumb against your clit and your body jerks at the spike in pleasure. you’re so sensitive and overwhelmed with pleasure and his cocks and just him entirely. “zhongli, gonna cum!” and it’s all the warning you can offer him before you’re breaking under the weight of euphoria.

the god above you groans when you go rigid beneath him, holes so tight and wet around him. “good girl,” his hips stutter as he nears dangerously close to his own end. “my precious, perfect girl.” he fucks you through the last remaining moments of your orgasm, hips urgent as he seeks his own pleasure. you wail at the overstimulation, one of your small hands grasping at the golden marks on his bicep.

and just as he promised, he fills you with his thick seed, flooding the depths of you until it begins to seep around the base of his cocks. his body shudders under the immense pleasure, hips rocking once, twice before he stills completely.

“mine,” a kiss to your temple. “all mine.”

nat’s notes — was very much in my feels for these two dragon men thus this was created! also wanted to commemorate a successful banner for these two as it now nears it’s end. so happy to be a neuvi and zhongli haver. hope everyone had a great time, and got the character(s) you wished for! <3

[satorurize]

He wanted them three rounds, DC had to come help him

Pairings: Established relationship, bf!gojo, reader is AFAB, a little lovesick gojo, he's overworked :(

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, freaky!gojo, marathon sex, p in v, (multiple) creampies and orgasms, squirting, feral gojo, sex in general.

Gojo Satoru is a freak..

Rumors about him being an absolute slut is true, but there is no bigger example than Satoru who is a slut and a virgin, a walking contradiction, before he met you.

Satoru looks at you in almost apprehensiveness when you give him a soft gaze at the revelation. This wasn't a look of disappointment, it looked like....pity. And Satoru hated being pitied more than anything.

He's a little embarrassed, although you reassure him that it's something you will never care about.

"You are literally juggling too many things with barely three hours of sleep, and virginity is a social construct anyway.." You shrug, looking up at him hovering over you, his tip nuzzled between the ingress of your sopping pussy, and oh how he thought that the pity would make his cock soft but it didn't, it just made it harder. It was a little pathetic, the way his cock was so easy that mere words of care and tenderness and acknowledgement for his furious schedule has got him rock solid, with the pearls of his precum clustering on the exterior of your sweet cunt. He was that love starved.

It took everything to not give your pussy mauling thrusts already, he was never the one to talk about how he indeed wanted a break sometimes and he wouldn't even now, especially being this horny and excited that he felt like a dog in heat. He had more than a good idea of how to go on about it, he had seen it in the bad porno that never appealed to him.

"Sweetheart..just let me put it in, I feel like my cock is gonna explode..I don't want to think of a bunch of blobs that I exorcise, not very hot.." He chuckled cheekily, leaning into your cheek, looking at you with the periphery of his eyes with a lecherous gaze, planting hot, open mouthed kisses onto your jaw and neck while he ached.

"Always a brat.." You sighed, grabbing his endowed cock from the base, pushing it into your velvety walls with a look of challenge and amusement laced onto your face.

After that, all hell broke lose. There was nothing that would stop Gojo Satoru now, not even if he was to be kept caged within his infinity. He would break it, just to discern your sweet, sweet cunt.

The challenge that was plastered onto your face just vanished, your assumption that Satoru would stop just after the first round with the orgasm that hit him with the speed of light, which made him finish so fast that it was deplorable, was so so wrong. He went on, and on and on.

And Gojo Satoru was innately confident, the fact that this was his first time didn't matter. He was always explorative, always excessive. Bold of you to assume he understood the concept of moderation.

"O-oh..fuckk..Toru.." You looked up to him with your glassy, nearly red rimmed eyes from the nth orgasm of the night, your cloying moans just made him keep going. Your was pussy puffy and clit violently engorged after being fucked this thoroughly.

"U-uh-huh..yeah, you like that..fuuuck baby, look at you.." He cooed with a feral grin on his lips as he steadily moved his hips, keeping your legs hoisted up on his shoulders, getting the hang of it. His hip movements no longer uncoordinated. He had always been a fast learner. He stills his hips with a series of whimpers as he came with hot white, thick ropes into your womb, pulling out with a lewd pop that spilled the cum stuffed inside down to your ass. You moaned softly, hazy and a little disoriented as your fluttering pussy pushed it all out.

He hummed at the sight, tapping and massaging his now agitatingly red tip onto your clit, he himself could feel his brain seem afloat, reverberating to take you again even after the multiple orgasms. He was dead set.

He hissed softly with widened eyes, in surprise and amusement, a full blown throaty laugh echoing his throat when you squirted, gushing out like a dam. He vigorously rubbed his sensitive cock on your sloshing pussy, his cock unbearably hard again. He was hooked, addicted. To you.

He grasped your hips, pulling you forward which made you mewl at the suddenness. He pressed his hefty weight on your body, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. If he had a laceration on his brain from the way this image of you burned in his head, sprawled underneath him, all flushed, sweaty and a mess, just for him. He would die rather than using his RCT.

"God baby..you washed my cum away, gonna hafta, fill you up again.."

©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

Plagarism not authorised.

m.list!

[wifeyoozi]

Heavy Duty - wolf hybrid!csc

w.c : 1.5 k ┊ synopsis : you didn't realise your hybrid boyfriend's wolf-like characteristics included having rut cycles.┊ content warning : smut , established relationship, mentions of sex marathon, lil hardcore, cumming inside w/o protection (other contraceptives taken or not according to your pref), claiming and marking, slight cum play

a/n : mdni !! part one of my 2k followers celebration guys we are there at last 😭

Seungcheol had always been different—his wolfish nature was apparent from the start. You noticed it in the way his eyes would gleam with a sharp intensity whenever he looked at you, the primal edge to his actions, and the subtle growl of his voice when he was particularly worked up. Being a wolf hybrid, his personality was dominant, protective, and possessive. In and out of bed, he was relentless.

But no one had prepared you for this—his rut.

You had heard about ruts from stories and books, but it never occurred to you that Seungcheol would experience one. His wolf side was powerful, but he mostly controlled it. However, this time was different. His first rut since you started dating was about to hit, and you quickly realized that his already high sex drive would skyrocket into something feral, something insatiable.

It began one morning when Seungcheol woke up earlier than usual, his body pressed tightly against yours as if seeking more than warmth. You stirred when you felt his hot breath on your neck, his hand firmly gripping your waist.

"Baby, you're so warm," he whispered, his voice deeper than usual, a low growl lacing his words. "I need you."

His usual morning neediness had an edge today, and you couldn’t quite place why. His hands, rough but always tender, started exploring your body more eagerly than before, and you could sense something was different. His touch wasn’t just affectionate—it was demanding, almost desperate.

"Seungcheol," you whispered, turning slightly to face him. "You okay?"

His eyes were glowing, almost like he was battling something inside. He kissed you deeply, his tongue invading your mouth as if tasting, devouring. His large hands gripped your thighs, pulling you against his chest, and his hardened length was already pressing insistently between your legs.

"I need you… so fucking badly," he murmured against your lips, his voice raw. "I don’t know what's wrong with me. I can’t stop thinking about you."

You whimpered softly at the heat of his words, your body responding instantly. You had always loved the way Seungcheol made you feel wanted, but this was different. He seemed almost… lost in his need for you.

It didn’t take long for him to tug your clothes off, his lips trailing fiery kisses down your neck, sucking and biting just hard enough to leave marks. You gasped as his teeth grazed your skin, and he growled in response, his lips latching onto your nipple, biting gently.

"Seungcheol, what's gotten into you?" you gasped.

His eyes met yours—darker, more dangerous. "I think it's my rut," he admitted breathlessly, his voice strained with lust. "I… fuck, baby, I don’t know if I can control it."

Your heart raced at the revelation. A rut. It made sense now. His heightened libido, his intensity—it was like he was a wild animal, unable to control his instincts.

Before you could say another word, his mouth crashed into yours again, his kiss so bruising and possessive that it took your breath away. He spread your legs with his knee, lining his cock up with your entrance, already dripping with arousal.

"I need to be inside you," he growled, his voice barely human anymore. "I need to fuck you, claim you."

Your body trembled with anticipation, and you nodded, unable to resist him. "Take me, Seungcheol," you whispered, voice trembling. "I’m yours."

That was all the permission he needed. With a low growl, he plunged into you in one swift, brutal thrust. You cried out, overwhelmed by the sudden stretch, the fullness, but Seungcheol wasn’t slowing down. His hips snapped against yours, his thrusts hard and fast, each one making you gasp for air.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice a rasp. "So fucking tight. You always take me so well, don’t you, baby?"

You whimpered in response, the pleasure building rapidly as his cock hit deep inside you, over and over. He was relentless, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked you like his life depended on it. You clawed at his back, trying to ground yourself, but it was no use. His pace was brutal, and you were lost in the sensation.

"That’s it, baby," Seungcheol growled, his lips brushing your ear. "Let me hear you. I want to hear you scream for me."

You moaned loudly as his words sent a jolt of heat through your body. He was going so deep, hitting places inside you that made your vision blur. You had never seen him like this before—so wild, so uncontrollable. It was intoxicating.

"Cheol, fuck… so deep," you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets as he drove into you mercilessly.

He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your skin. "You love it, don’t you? You love when I fuck you like this. You’re so fucking wet for me."

You couldn’t deny it. The primal need in his voice, the way his body dominated yours—it drove you wild. "Yes, Seungcheol… I love it. I love the way you fuck me," you moaned, your words spurring him on.

His pace quickened, his hips slamming against yours harder, faster. You could feel the pressure building, the orgasm creeping up on you with every brutal thrust. Seungcheol’s growls filled the room, his cock stretching you so perfectly, so deliciously.

"I’m going to fill you up, baby," he growled against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "I’m going to fuck my cum so deep inside you, make you mine."

The thought sent you over the edge. Your body tightened around him as you came with a loud cry, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Seungcheol’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his release.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice hoarse as he slammed into you one last time, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural moan. His body shuddered above you as he came, filling you up with his thick, hot cum.

For a moment, the two of you lay there, panting, his body still pressed against yours, his cock still buried deep inside you. But even as you tried to catch your breath, Seungcheol wasn’t done. His cock was still hard, still throbbing inside you.

"I’m not finished," he growled, his voice still thick with lust. "My rut… it’s not over yet."

Your eyes widened in surprise. You had expected him to be spent, but it seemed his rut was far from done. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, already eager for more.

"Seungcheol…" you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he began to move again, slow but steady, his cock dragging along your sensitive walls.

"Three days," he murmured against your lips, his hands caressing your thighs. "It’s going to last for three days, baby. Can you handle that?"

The thought of being fucked like this for three days sent a shiver down your spine. But the way Seungcheol looked at you, his eyes filled with need and hunger—it made you want to give him everything.

"I can handle it," you whispered breathlessly, your body already heating up again.

Seungcheol grinned, his wolfish teeth showing as he leaned down to kiss you again, his hips picking up speed. "Good," he growled. "Because I’m not stopping until my rut is over."

And he didn’t stop.

For the next three days, Seungcheol fucked you like an animal in heat. Day and night, he took you in every position imaginable, his stamina seemingly endless. You barely had time to recover from one orgasm before he was thrusting into you again, his cock always hard, always ready. His words were filthy, his dirty talk sending you spiralling every time.

"Look at you," he growled one night, his hips snapping against yours as he fucked you from behind, his hands gripping your ass tightly. "You’re so fucking perfect. Taking me so well, like you were made for me."

You whimpered, your body trembling with pleasure as he pounded into you, his cock hitting deep. "I am, Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m made for you."

He groaned at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "That’s right," he growled. "You’re mine. All mine."

By the end of his rut, you were exhausted, your body sore but thoroughly satisfied. Seungcheol lay beside you, his arm draped possessively over your waist, his body finally calm.

"You did so good," he murmured, his voice soft and affectionate now that the storm had passed. "I love you."

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I love you too, Seungcheol."

As intense as it had been, there was something about the way he held you afterward, the way he looked at you with such adoration, that made it all worth it. Even in the chaos of his rut, Seungcheol had been yours—and you had been his.

[seonghwaddict]

flattery — choi san

in which your boyfriend just looked so good in his group’s music video that you can’t help but be all over him.

idol!choi san x fem!reader. genre. smut, fluff, established relationship. warnings. barely any plot, swearing, explicit sexual content mdni, ab riding, brief unprotected sex, filming, brief cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, nickname (baby, pretty, sweetheart, my girl). wc. 1.3k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. did i make a post abt wanting to ride san’s abs a while ago? yes, i did. it’s not my fault that the music video curled those thoughts even more 🤷‍♀️ something was def purring… guys i’ve been so obsessed with blind and shaboom it’s actually not even funny anymore. what’s y’all’s fav?

listening to. nasty, ariana grande.

masterlist.

you really love your boyfriend’s abs.

like really love them.

it started off as a harmless little date, if you can call lounging together in his empty dorm that. as you had promised, you didn’t watch the new music video until you were with him, seonghwa and mingi out somewhere. despite there being no one home, you and san confined yourselves to his bedroom, basking in his smell as you cuddled up to him in bed while he pulled up the video on his phone.

you watched with rapt interest, giggling at the absurdity of the scenes, commenting on some details every now and then. he watched you instead, grinning from ear to ear and revelling in all your praises, occasionally leaning down to sneak a kiss on your head.

“you’ve outdone yourselves, really,” you turned your head to look at him from his chest as the music video ended and he set the phone on his bedside table, “and you looked good doing it!”

he snorted as you wiggled your eyebrows, shifting you to lay on top of him, “yeah? you think so?”

“mhm,” you hummed and nodded, leaning down to peck his lips teasingly, “very handsome.”

“flattery’s not gonna get you anywhere, baby,” he rolled his eyes playfully despite the tender caresses of his fingers on your hips, brushing under the hem of the shirt you stole from his closet a while ago. one of his hands left your hip to tangle into your hair, pulling your face closer to his as he muttered, “come here.”

you complied, leaning down the rest of the way to press your lips against his softly, smiling into the kiss as your eyes fluttered shut. teasingly, you pulled away a few times, grinning as you pecked his li s repeatedly until he had had enough and held you in place by the back of your neck.

he sighed quietly and you felt all his muscles relax under your touch. his tongue ran along your bottom lip before dipping in, making you gasp softly as the kiss turned heated.

one kiss led to more, usually, because in a matter of moments his shirt had been discarded along with his sweatpants and your panties as he guided you over his length with his hands on your hips. your whimpers and his groans melded together as they echoed of his bedroom walls and you were silently grateful his roommates weren’t home.

san’s head tipped back against his pillows as you leaned down to kiss his neck sweetly, whining against his skin as his pounded up into you to meet the rolls of your hips. he groaned as you clenched around him, the feeling of his thick cock inside you and his pelvis hitting your clit with each thrust quickly making a knot form deep in your abdomen.

you mewled softly, stuttering out a quiet “‘m c-close” between your moans and whimpers. your abdomen clenched, heat spreading throughout your body as you prepared yourself to be hit with an orgasm.

only for him to lift you off his dick right at the last second, making you lift your head to look at him with a frown as your thighs twitched and your chest heaved, catching your breath. he grinned in return, holding your hips firmly so you had no way to move for a few moments. your core pulsed and clenched around nothing, the wetness of it making a faint squelching sound that had him raising a teasing eyebrow at you.

“you’re mean.” you pouted once you finally caught your breath, wiggling your hips in attempt to sink back down on him.

“hush, i just wanna try something,” he rolled his eyes and pulled your hips forward before setting you down on his stomach; his abs. he caught the way your eyes fluttered as your clit pressed against his skin, or at least he assumed so—the shirt you had on obscured your heat from his view as you pressed yourself down on him. his voice came out mildly cocky, “ride.”

“w-what?” your eyes snapped open, blinking almost comically.

“ride my abs,” he repeated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “and when you finish i’ll let you cum on my cock.”

you didn’t have to be told twice, letting him slide you against him slowly at first, dragging your pussy along him and making your your clit catch on every ridge of his abs.

“that’s it, baby, you look so pretty like this,” he practically purred as he felt you move on your own, pressing against him desperately as little sounds tumbled from your lips. he moved his hands to knead your thighs before lifting one, grabbing a fistful of the hem of your shirt and lifting it to your waist, groaning as he noticed the sticky threads connecting your pissy to his abs whenever you lifted off him, “fuck… can i film this? please, babe?”

unable to form any coherent sentences, you merely nodded, slowing your movements as his hands leaves your thigh to grab his phone off the bedside table, the hem of your shirt still balled up behind your back as he tugged lightly. his hand shook a little as he opened his camera app, holding it close to his face as he recorded the way your hips stuttered as he tensed his muscles, making you let out a breathy whine.

“look at you,” he cooed softly, almost a teasing lilt his voice, “you sound so pretty for me, don’t you? that’s right, baby, keep going just like that… does it feel good? hm, sweetheart?”

his tone made your cheeks flush, giving him a shy nod as you subconsciously pick up your pace, your moans growing louder as your puffy clit glides along his torso greedily. “y-yes, sannie, ‘s so good.”

“that’s my girl,” he smirked as he felt your legs press against his sides a little harder at his praises, practically feeling your cunt pulse against him. he tugged at the hem of your shirt, prompting you to pull it off clumsily, your arms trembling. his hungry gaze roamed all over your naked form, angling his phone to capture your face as well as he hummed appreciatively, “as much as i love fucking you in my shirts, i think you’re much prettier like this… all bare and all mine.”

his words seemed to be your last straw as you cried out, his name slipping between your moans as your hips stuttered and slowed and your body twitched. he groaned as he watched you come apart on top of him, shutting off his phone and tossing it aside before sitting up, making you slide down to sit on his lap.

his length of his hard cock covered your pulsing heat, making you twitch from the brief overstimulation as he pressed his lips against yours, muttering between kisses, “you did so well, baby, so perfect for me.”

you laughed breathily against his lips, melting against him and winding your arms around his broad shoulders. you let him kiss you for a few moments before your hips absentmindedly rocked against him, smiling when his breathed hitched.

“still want more, pretty?” he rasped as he pulled away, kissing the corner of your lips as his hands helped moving you against him.

you hummed softly, nodding as your hand ran through his hair, twirling a short lick around your finger before slipping them back down around his shoulder.

“you’re always so needy, hm?” he chuckled lowly. a moment later you were on your back, pressed against the mattress as he hovered over you, his heavy tip sliding against your clit teasingly and making your hips buck against him, whimpering. he leaned down, biting your earlobe as he whispered, “god, you’re insatiable.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime

[uzurakis]

REACTIONS TO YOUR FIRST KISS FOR ‘EM!

featuring: itadori yuuji. megumi fushiguro. yuuta okkotsu. gojo satoru.

n. back with the short drabbles for each character! i also made a geto ver. but i scrapped it cause i didn’t feel it as much as these ones. maybe i’ll make another one in a short time :)

GOJO SATORU. his reaction was anything but conventional. instead of being taken aback or surprised, he met your embrace with a playful glint in his eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"was that all you've got?" he teased, his voice a velvet whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers traced a tantalizing path along your jawline, his touch igniting a spark of desire that lingered in the air between you. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeky remark, a mixture of amusement and affection bubbling up within you. "oh, is someone asking for more, satoru?" you replied, your own tone laced with playful challenge as you leaned in closer, the space between you charged with a magnetic tension.

satoru’s smirk widened into a knowing grin, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "maybe i am," he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill racing through you. "but only if you're up for it."

ITADORI YUUJI. one second thought, he should be processing what happened just now. one second later, his body simply moved on its own to kiss you back. everything happened so fast—a liking exchanged between the two of you in a matter of seconds. the adrenaline in itadori’s veins wouldn't stop flowing until he made the decision to lean in for a kinder, softer kiss.

“you just kissed me twice already,” you giggled as he grin sheepishly, “did you realize that?”. he remarked with a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, “then you just lost the race against me.”

"lost the race, huh?" you retorted. "well, i guess i'll just have to pick up the pace then." with a lightness in your heart and a newfound determination, you leaned in, closing the distance between your lips with gentle yet purposeful intent. "there," you whispered, "now it's even." itadori chuckled softly at your playful remark, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and adoration. "well, if that case," he began, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, "i suppose i'll have to make it three then.”

YUUTA OKKOTSU. as your lips met yuuta’s in a tender, unexpected kiss, his initial reaction was one of gentle surprise. his heart fluttered with a mix of emotions, unsure of how to respond in that fleeting moment of intimacy.

his smile broke through the uncertainty, a soft, genuine expression that mirrored the warmth of your touch. "well, that was unexpected," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement as a small laugh escaped his lips. you couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, the sound echoing softly in the quiet space between you. "sorry, i couldn't resist," you confessed, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and affection.

yuuta's laughter grew, a melodic sound that filled the air with joy and lightness. "no need to apologize," he reassured you, his gaze meeting yours with a tender warmth. "i think unexpected kisses might just be my new favorite thing." at last, as he gazed into your eyes, he realized that in that moment, he didn't need to have all the answers. all he knew was that he wanted to savor this shared intimacy, to revel in the beauty of your touch and the warmth of your presence.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. no words, just a silent pause with his gaze fixed on yours. as the red colour on his face became more apparent, his pupils widened and his brows lifted. megumi's mouth was already open, but no words came out of it. he could feel his heart thumping against his chest, and the sound echoed in the silence between them. did your lips really just brush his? perhaps it was just his illusion. was that it? or was it not?

"i'm sorry if you're not comfortable with, yeah, that." after a few seconds of stillness, you hesitantly spoke out. "i should've asked—" but your words were stopped short by his exclaimed 'no!'. "i just," megumi felt like he could sink into the depths of the moment, drowning in the ocean of feelings that swirled within, "i thought you weren't into that kind of... stuff."

you too grew quiet after his words, but before you could respond, he steadily got closer and closer, until the only thing that separated the two of you was a small breath you exhaled. "can i?" he asked gently, there was a raw sense of longing, a weakness exposed for you to see, and it touched something deep inside him. the only response you offered was a nod, which is more than enough to signal his lips to touch yours for the second time. and this time, megumi just made a confession of emotions too profound to be articulated.

@uzurakis

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hii can I get whiskey w Steve Rogers for oral/face riding?

Adjusting.

warnings - smut. cursing.

nomad steve makes me feral. that's all. I was feeling this one.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

He's adjusting, to this new life.

He's shy. Taking it one day at a time. Reminding himself to breathe when things get overwhelming.

Soon, he finds his feet. Regains his confidence. Starts asking for things, setting boundaries, taking what he wants a little more.

He keeps surprising you. With his knowledge, new slang he uses, his ability to use a phone. He's a fast learner.

He's braver, now.

He's adjusting.

Trying to get used to the fact that women aren't as seemingly fragile as they were. They run the world more openly, now, and Steve loves it.

He loves you.

Tries to show you how much when he's got you between his sheets, kissing every inch of skin he can find. Gentle, tender, careful.

You tell him that you know he loves you, no matter what. He doesn't have to be so tentative. It doesn't change the way you look at him.

He's in a lust fuelled haze when he finds the courage.

"Sit on my face."

You choke on your breath, gasping for air.

"What?"

"You heard me, honey. Sit on my face. Now."

You've never seen him like this. Frayed at the edges, feral almost. His eyes are as dark as the wet spot between your legs.

You quirk a brow at him in challenge, but he doesn't back down. So you grant him his wish. Crawling up his body until you're hovering over his pretty face, deep gaze focused on you.

"Is this what you want?" you whisper.

"More than anything."

He's practically growling, voice lower and rougher than you've ever heard it. You owe a thanks to whatever has got him so riled up.

He tugs you down to his mouth with two strong hands around your thighs, grip hard enough that you know you'll bruise tomorrow. You can't wait.

You tangle your fingers through his golden blonde locks and tug, whining when he groans, from the depths his chest. The two of you are animalistic, finally tapping into the carnal desires that have been there all along.

You're practically riding the gorgeous ridge of his nose, reveling in the way his tongue slips inside and curls. He might not have much experience with this, but he's always been naturally gifted. He's one of those people that's good at everything.

He's groaning, humming, murmuring, enjoying this just as much as you are. Your hands almost splinter the headboard, skin pulled taut across tense knuckles. You're so close you can taste it, honey sweet and saccharine.

"Good girl. Good fuckin' girl. Come on my face, honey. Please."

It's the broken please that gets you, the desperation in his tone and the tightening grip on your hips. You see stars, dizzying and clear, blood rushing to your head. Steve doesn't let up, determined to see how pretty you look when he finally pushes you to your limit.

You collapse against his chest, leaning into his touch like a kitten. Rough fingertips trace patterns across your back, your arms, your hips. He's waiting for you to give him the green light.

You kiss him with force, tongue sliding into his mouth with no room for protest. You bite his lip and grin. America's golden boy. Lying under you with your come smeared across his face.

He leans up to whisper in your ear, rough tone filled with promise and mischief.

"I love you," he murmurs, tongue gliding across your neck. "Let me fuck you like I don't."

You've never been one to deny him. You're not about to start now.

He's adjusting, after all.

[motherismotheringggg]

Omg pleasure dom Nicky. His whining above you as his thrust get sloppier but god he just wants to please you. Won’t cum until you do 😫

completely unraveled 🖤

summary: see the request above, anon you ATE with this one!!

type: pleasure dom! nicholas x sub! female reader

tags/warnings: 18+, hella smutty, cock worship, ice play, oral (f! receiving), orgasm restraint, cream pie, slight blood drawn, cream pie, cock warning, aftercare

author’s note: i need a cold cigarette after this is 😮‍💨

word count: 2771

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

For Nicholas, your pleasure was everything—it consumed him, drove him, defined every touch, every kiss, and every movement of his body against yours. It wasn’t just about the act itself; it was about the journey he took you on every time you were together. He reveled in discovering the things that made you gasp, made your breath hitch, and sent shivers cascading down your spine.

Nicholas had an uncanny ability to read you, to anticipate your needs as if your body spoke a language only he understood. He could sense the smallest shifts in your reactions—the way your fingers gripped the sheets or the way your voice wavered when you whispered his name. He knew when to push, when to slow, and when to draw you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of ecstasy until you were begging for release.

For him, the ultimate reward wasn’t just your climax—it was the way your body melted into his afterward, utterly spent, and the glazed, euphoric fucked look in your eyes that made his heart swell with pride. His mission wasn’t just to make you cum; it was to take you to places you’d never dreamed of, over and over again, until every nerve in your body sang with satisfaction. When he was with you, his sole purpose was clear: to utterly and completely worship you, leaving you breathless, trembling, and blissfully undone in his arms.

————

Now, here you were back in your shared loft apartment with your boyfriend, sitting on the edge of the bed, your skin still humming from the aftershocks of the last round. The soft glow of the city lights filtered through the window, casting shadows across the room as you caught your breath. Nicholas came back from the kitchen, he had something in his hand but you couldn’t quite see it.

He stood in front of you, completely exposed. His cock, still red and throbbing, you went to fill your mouth with him. You loved the way he felt in your mouth, the perfectly rounded tip, and the perfect vainness of his shaft, you loved to worship his body.

To kiss down his body, planting soft kisses on each of his abs before taking him in your mouth. To kiss and bite on his thighs, tracing small circles on them until he slowly guided you to his member.

But he stopped you, he wanted to look at you. He took a moment to appreciate you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck and the way your breath hitched in between each exhale. His gaze softened, the lust in his eyes replaced by something deeper, more intimate. You felt it too—the unspoken connection that tethered you both.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice low and tender, just the slightest hint of concern mixed with the satisfied edge of a man who knew exactly what he’d just done to you. He wasn’t asking for reassurance; he wanted to know how deep he’d taken you, how far he could push you the next time.

You nodded, turning slightly to face him, your lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Thank you, Nicholas," you whispered, the words thick with affection and desire. He liked when you thanked him; when you made him feel as special as he made you. He reached down to cup your face, letting his thumb grace your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful when you look at me like this…like need me”, he said as he glared at you, his eyes were dark with lust.

He leaned down to kiss you, grabbing your face in his hand as he had full control. The kiss started slow but grew into something deeper. Your tongues wrestled each other, before his slipped of your mouth and licked you. Licked your lips, licked your cheek, licked wherever he pleased. You were wrapped up in the euphoria of the kiss that you hadn’t see what he had in his hand from before.

It wasn’t until you felt the cold burn of an ice cube on your back, still covered in sweat and radiating heat from before. You let out a deep long hiss, falling into Nicholas as he continued to kiss on you. You were breathless, barely able to call out his name but still needing to let him know how good he felt,

“mmm Nicholas, that feels so good…”

“Is that right baby?”

“Yes Nicholas, I need you so bad”

“Tell me where you want me baby”

“Nicholas I --” you were cut short by Nicholas dropping to his knees, taking that same ice cube from your back, which had melted down some, and putting it in his mouth.

“Don't stop baby, tell me what you want”, he said, muffled with the ice cube slightly muffling him.

Nicholas leaned in, his cool lips with the ice cube brushing your clit, your back arched with sheer pleasure. Your pelvis instinctively shot backward, but Nicholas quickly wrapped his hands around you pulling you closer, as he continued.

The coolness was intoxicating, heightening every sensation, every nerve ending sparking to life under his touch. Your body trembled, shivers of pleasure wracking you as you grasped at his shoulders for stability.

You tried to pull away, but Nicholas wasn’t having it. His strong hands were on you, pulling you closer, keeping you in place as his lips continued to work you, the ice teasing and torturing you in the most delicious way.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he muttered, his breath warm against your skin as he kept you pressed against him, determined to make you beg for more.

The weight of his presence, the passion in his touch, was almost too much to bear. The ice and his lips worked in perfect harmony, sending you spiraling towards something that felt dangerously close to madness.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. "I want you, Nicholas," you gasped, barely able to form coherent words through the waves of pleasure flooding you. "I need your dick baby”, you whined and pouted, letting him know bad you craved him.

He kept going, he could tell you were close, the way your core squirmed under him, the way you thrashed about, the whimpering you tried to contain but failed miserably at. He knew you were right on the edge ready to to unravel and he wanted you to cum right there on his face.

“Nicholas … Nicholas please baby, please fuck me”, you whined out more, thighs clenched as your hips rode in rhythm with him. He didn’t let up once, when the ice cube completely melted, he worked at you with his tongue. The way he lapped at your wetness drove you crazy, every flick of his tongue had an individual hand in undoing you. When he sucked on your bud, you shuttered as your eyes rolled back into your head.

You knew Nicholas wanted you to hold out as long as possible. He reveled in it—how you could push yourself to the very edge, fighting the overwhelming wave of pleasure just to stay in control, just to tease him. He loved it. The way your body trembled, the way your breath hitched in anticipation, it drove him wild. He knew exactly when you were on the brink, when you couldn’t take it anymore, but you fought to keep from falling apart. The anticipation in your eyes, the way your muscles clenched—he lived for that moment.

And when you finally did let go, when you couldn’t hold it in any longer, when you surrendered completely to the pleasure, that’s when he felt it. The pride, the triumph of having taken you to that place, completely fucking you to your limit turned him on. The way you clung to him, your nails digging into his skin as you came undone, made him feel like the king of your world.

Your body quivered with the first wave of release, but Nicholas wasn’t done. He was relentless, his lips, his hands, his body all pushing you further, coaxing out every drop of pleasure, bringing you right back to the edge again and again. He wasn’t just content with one, not when he knew you could handle more.

You tried to hold on, but with each touch, each movement of his hands, it became impossible. The way he worked you, with such precision and care, the way he knew your body better than you did—it was overwhelming.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, as if he knew you were on the brink of breaking. And he was right. He always knew. “Don’t fight it.”

The heat between you two was undeniable, and as the second orgasm hit, more intense than the first, your body gave in completely, trembling uncontrollably against him. Nicholas held you close, steadying you as you went through the motions, his hands gentle but firm, the pride in his eyes showing just how much he loved every second of it.

As you came down from the high, his lips brushed over your thighs, soft and tender, contrasting the intensity of what had just happened. "You’re perfect," he whispered looking up at you with a dark lusty look. His eyes were huge and dilated., He moved up to you to hold you as you caught your breath. You had shifted up on the bed while he lay next to you, rubbing you and making sure you were okay. You had caught your breath enough to pull him in for a kiss, another deep and passionate one. You moaned into each other’s mouths as the kiss grew deeper.

Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath your fingertips. Nicholas, sensing the shift in the air, took the initiative. His hands moved to your sides, pulling you beneath him as he gently but firmly positioned himself on top of you.

He paused for a brief moment, pulling away slightly, his eyes dark with desire but also a hint of concern. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, rough with barely-contained lust, his hand sliding down to massage your clit. He knew you wanted him, he just wanted to hear you whimper to say it.

You met his gaze, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths, your brows furrowing as you nodded. "Yes," you breathed out. "I need you so bad."

Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. He sat up, positioning himself above you as he adjusted to your entrance. With a slow, deliberate movement, he slipped inside, the feeling of your wetness guiding him in with ease.

The moment he entered you, you couldn’t contain the moan that escaped your lips. It was like an instinctual reaction to the depth and warmth of him filling you, your body instinctively arching toward him as your nails dug into his back.

Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the feeling of being buried inside you. It wasn’t just about the act for him—it was about the way you responded, how you opened up to him in ways that made his heart race with a mixture of lust and tenderness. Your pleasure was his fuel, his every move driven by the need to make you feel as good as possible.

"God, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice rough and low. “So fucking wet and tight for me”, he continued, staying still for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness of him inside you, his hands resting on either side of your body, holding himself up. The connection between you two was electric, both of you feeling the intensity of the moment, but Nicholas was waiting for you. He wanted to feel you tremble, wanted to see the pleasure flood your face.

He gave you a moment, but it wasn’t long before he couldn’t hold back any longer. Slowly, he started to grind, pulling back just enough before thrusting forward, the rhythm building as he sought out that perfect angle, the one that made your back arch and your breath hitch, knowing he was touching your cervix from how big he was.

His eyes locked with yours, watching every shift of your body, the way you reacted to each stroke. Every thrust of his hips was calculated to bring you closer to that peak, and with each movement, your moans grew louder, more desperate. The tension between you both was almost unbearable as he pushed you closer to the edge, but you were holding out for him—just like you always did.

Knowing what he wanted, you were holding out for him. Your body belonged to Nicholas, for him to play with and orchestrate an orgasm from you that almost brought you to tears.

Nicholas could see it in your eyes. You were so close, so close to breaking, but you held on. Your body quivered beneath him, straining against the delicious pressure building inside you. He knew you well enough to understand that you enjoyed the struggle—the way it felt to be pushed to your absolute limit, to be on the edge of complete surrender, all for him.

Your lip was swollen from how hard you were biting it, the ache in your chest growing with each thrust. Your nails had drawn blood from Nicholas’s back as you dug into him, the sting of your pleasure matching the heat coursing through your veins.

"Let me know when you're ready to cum, baby," Nicholas whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with his own restraint. His hair was floppy and slightly saturated with sweat, hanging messily over his face as he held himself above you, never once breaking the rhythm of his thrusts. The sight of him—wild and consumed by you—was almost too much to handle.

You tried to hold on a little longer, wanting to make him wait, but his relentless pace was beginning to unravel you, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel yourself tightening around him, the warmth pooling in your stomach as you fought to stay just a little longer.

Nicholas’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his breaths growing shallow, each one a little more ragged as he became more desperate. He could tell you were close—he always could—but the need to hear you fall apart before he did had him on the edge of his own control.

"Baby, please..." His voice was softer now, almost whiny, as his hips faltered for a split second. "Let go for me... I need to see you cum. Please." The desperation in his words only spurred you on, pushing you to the brink.

His thrusts started to get sloppier, less controlled, as if he was teetering on the edge himself. The wet sound of his cock slamming in and out of your wetness grew louder, the intensity in his eyes matching the frenzy in his movements. "I can’t... I can't wait, baby," he muttered, voice broken as he pulled you closer, pressing into you deeper, harder. His cock slid into you with an urgency that matched the mounting tension, his pace erratic but still aimed at pushing you toward your climax.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sharp gasp, your body finally surrendered, the pleasure bursting through you in waves. Your back arched off the bed, your nails dragging down his back even more as the orgasm hit you, intense and overwhelming.

Nicholas's eyes locked on you, his jaw tightening as he felt you clench around him, riding out your release. He gave one last desperate thrust, whining as the pressure finally broke inside him. "Fuck," he groaned, his movements sloppy and erratic as he spilled into you, his body shuddering with his own orgasm.

He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he held you close, both of you still panting for air. His head rested on your chest as he tried to catch his breath, and you could feel the thumping of his heart against your skin, while he was still throbbing inside of you.

"You’re so perfect for me baby” he murmured between breaths, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. "You were made for me"

You ran your fingers through his damp hair, gently soothing him as he slowly regained his composure. The bond between you two, unspoken but felt, lingered in the air, heavy and undeniable. Nicholas had given everything to make sure you were satisfied, and in that moment, as you both lay tangled in each other’s arms, you knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lyvhie]

oh, you're learning, father | lmk

priest!mark x fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: mark is determined to make you feel as good as you always made him feel.

cw: this is a continuation of 'forgive me, father' but can be read separately, oral (f), fingering, it has fewer religious themes than the previous one, pet names.

a/n: your wish is my command, here it is part 2 for you babies 😚

since the day you had first lured him into your seductive web, mark and you had been engaged in a secret, sinful affair. rather than feeling remorse, he reveled in the forbidden pleasure of your company.

he maintained his role as a priest, as he held a deep affinity for his position. he had devoted his existence to it, so it was not unexpected that he chose to preserve his work. but in the depths of his consciousness, he acknowledged that he was transgressing against his faith.

but he couldn't help it, not even if he tried he could get away from you, at least not now. it was so good to spend the night by your side, he always found himself leaving relaxed both physically and emotionally after a meet with you, each encounter a new, thrilling experience.

still, there was something that started to bother him; you were the one who always took the lead and made him dizzy with pleasure, truly faithful to your promise to make him cum in every way possible. don't get him wrong, he doesn't hate it, quite the opposite, it's always a delightful experience. however, he wanted to do more for you, he needed you to enjoy the moment as much as he did. your enjoyment was very important to him.

mark sat in the adjoining room, waiting patiently for you to finish your shower, his mind filled with determination and anticipation. for days, he had immersed himself in research, exploring different possibilities and methods to bring you to the pinnacle of pleasure.

armed with the knowledge he had gathered from articles, forums, and various resources, mark was determined to make this encounter exceptional in every way. he vowed to himself that he would leave no stone unturned.

he was deeply engrossed in his reading material, intently concentrating on the article titled "three ways to make your partner cum." he was so absorbed in his research that he didn't register the sound of the shower coming to a halt or the bathroom door opening.

“what are you doing?” mark, taken by surprise, flinched at the sudden sound of your voice, his phone slipping out of his grip and onto the bed. his eyes darted up, finding you standing at the edge of the bed. he quickly tried to cover his nervousness with a casual smile.

"oh, nothing much," he said, his voice just a touch hurried, making you raise your eyebrows.

"did you know you are like, the worst person ever at telling a lie, mark?" you teased, an amused smile gracing your features as you crawled up the bed towards him. his arms instinctively opened, welcoming you into his embrace.

“well," he chuckled sheepishly, his hands gently wrapping around your waist. “i guess that's what happens when you spend most of your life preaching honesty and confessional secrets.”

you laughed at his words, leaning to capture his lips into a gentle kiss, his arms wrapping around you in a tender embrace. he was keenly aware that he didn't need to resort to falsehoods when it came to his lack of experience in the bedroom, as he knew you were understanding and patient with him.

he had noticed your careful and caring demeanor towards him, despite the wild tendencies you displayed in the heat of passion. it was precisely these qualities of yours that made him feel at ease in your presence.

he hummed against your lips as he felt your hand slide under his shirt and caress his bare skin, his body responding with a small shiver when your nails grazed his abdomen. it was crazy how he could never grow weary of your touch.

as the kiss became more heated, he felt his own body getting hot, a soft gasp escaping his lips when your hand found his bulge over his pants. for a moment, he was tempted to surrender to your dominance, relishing the familiar sensation of being at your mercy. however, this time, he halted your movement by gently clutching your hand and breaking the kiss.

“what, baby?” a confused look on your face as your hand reached to caress his cheek. he melted into your touch, his heart skipping a beat as you called him that pet name. he couldn't help but admire how a simple word could make him feel so content. “are you not in the mood? we can't stop here.”

he shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. "no, it’s not that," he reassured you. "i'm definitely in the mood. i just... have something i want to try with you.”

the curiosity in your eyes sparkled as your hear his word. with a small tilt of your head, you responded, "oh, really?" your brows raising slightly. "and what do you want to try?"

mark hesitated for a moment, biting his lower lip before continuing to speak. "can i... can i eat you out, please?"

“oh.”

each night of sex with mark was a fun experience, you really enjoyed fucking him. you usually always focused on his pleasure, he was so responsive, so easy to please. a simple hickey on his neck was enough to make him melt for you, and you never got tired of those reactions from him.

but a change of pace was always welcome, and you couldn't, and in no way did you want to, deny such a cute request.

“of course, mark!” you laughed at how nervous he seemed to be asking that, but your answer made his face lighten up and relax. “do you know how to do it?”

"i-i’ve been... researching.”

"like... watching porn or something?"

“no…” he looked away from you, his face getting red.

“oh god… you tried it on someone else?”

“what?! no!” he replied quickly, shaking his head urgently. “no, i would never—” he stopped mid-sentence when he heard you laughing, soon realizing that you were just teasing him.

“you're so cute,” you chuckled, squishing his cheeks together and earning a roll of his eyes in response.

he let out a sigh, still feeling the need to explain himself even though he knew you were just teasing him before. "i did watch a few videos," he admitted, his tone slightly sheepish. "but it was mostly reading….”

you hummed in understanding, a small smirk playing on your lips. "alright, i’m curious to see what this dedicated student has learned," you teased.

mark swallowed a lump in his throat, taking a deep breath. “okay,” it was finally time to put his theoretical knowledge into practice.

mark shifted his position, maneuvering you so that you were now lying down with your head slightly raised with the help of a pillow. you didn't know if he purposefully wanted to make sure you had a good view of him as he began his task.

he awkwardly positioned himself over you, his lips eagerly seeking yours in a passionate and gentle kiss. his tongue slipped past your lips, hungrily exploring and mapping out every inch of your mouth. it was something you had noticed about him — he really loved to kiss you. you had no doubt that you could make him cum with just one make-out session.

mark's hands found the rope of your robe, easily unfurling it to reveal your bare body beneath. he pulled away from the kiss, gasping for breath, before moving his lips to your jaw and continuing downward to your neck. he relished in the sounds of your soft sighs and the way you arched your neck, providing him with more access. he gently sucked and nipped at your skin, leaving a trail of love bites, each one followed by a soothing kiss.

he had read that foreplay was an effective way to build anticipation, and he wholeheartedly agreed. it was something he had experienced firsthand with you. when you did that with him, it was all more satisfying when it came to the main act.

mark's hands roamed over your body, gently cupping your breasts and giving them a light squeeze before continuing their journey. they moved down to caress your sides, eventually coming to rest on your hips, his touch leaving a trail of tingles in its wake.

mark began to move down your body, his lips planting soft, lingering kisses along the way. with each kiss, he inched further down, eventually reaching between your legs. the sight of your glistening pussy making he whimper softly.

his lips pressed against your inner thighs, creating a trail of gentle kisses as he moved closer and closer to your core. you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

mark quickly moved towards the main attraction, aware that prolonging the wait too much could become monotonous. he had learned that there was a certain balance to be maintained to ensure maximum enjoyment and pleasure.

the first gentle lick of mark's tongue against your pussy drew a soft gasp from your lips. your surprised response served as encouragement for him to continue. eager to please, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, firmly pulling you closer so that his mouth was perfectly aligned with you.

with more confidence, his tongue roamed through your slick folds, collecting that sweet, stick fluid that made him hum in satisfaction, the pleasant vibrations eliciting a soft moan from you. mark eagerly buried his face between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit with growing confidence.

he closed his eyes as he kept devouring you, his tongue circled your clit, teasing it, before sucking it into his mouth. your hands found its way to his hair, your fingers tangling between his strands tightly as you pressed him against you even more.

mark pulled away for a briefly to look up at you, his chin glistening with your juices and his face flushed. “am i doing it r—” you cut him off by firmly guiding him back to his task. "fuck, don't stop, mark," you hissed, rocking your hips against his face, moaning when his tongue started to fuck you again, licking and flicking at your heated flesh.

you arched your back and squeezed your thighs around his head, your breath coming in sharp gasps. your moans served as a measure of his abilities, and he could tell that he was doing well because your sounds were becoming increasingly louder. he doubled his efforts, eating you like you were the most delicious meal he's ever had — and it probably was.

he could tell you were close because he noticed your thighs trembling slightly and way your moans were growing in volume and pitch. he knew that he had to keep up the pace, so he decided to try something else. he quickly and smoothly slipped two fingers inside you, smiling when he listened your whimper.

his fingers caressed your inner walls, scissoring them open and making way for him to thrust his tongue a little further, soon returning to your clit, sucking relentlessly. he pumped his fingers in and out of your wet heat, curling them just enough to hit that sweet spot and that was the final straw he needed to make you cum, crying out his name.

your grip on mark's hair tightened to the point of being painful as you reached your climax, your body arching and your hips pressing against his face. for a few seconds, it was as if you were trying to suffocate him with your pussy, which was… oddly hot for him, he weren’t sure if he was supposed to be this turned on.

with a satisfied moan, mark diligently lapped up your juices, not wanting to leave a single drop behind. he savored your delicious taste and couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction in knowing he was the pleasing you, finally.

mark slowly raised his head, his gaze meeting yours as he took his time to suck his fingers clean. he was in absolute awe at the sight before him. your hair was tousled, your breath coming in short pants, and a faint gleam of sweat adorned your forehead. your eyes were heavy-lidded and fixated on him, a sight that filled him with pride.

mark's voice broke the silence with a soft compliment, "you look divine..." he bit his lower lip, his words carrying genuine admiration for your appearance. a gentle laugh escaped your lips, touched by the sincere appreciation in his eyes.

“umm, i don’t know if god would approve that," you raised an eyebrow, a playful glimmer in your eyes as you pulled him up to meet your lips in a kiss, the taste of your essence still clung to his lips.

"i couldn't care less if it's you," mark murmured against your lips, his body molding against yours as if he was a puppet in your hands.

you teased, a frisky smirk on your lips, "hmm, that was quite the romantic statement, father. are you catching feelings?"

mark buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin and dropping soft kisses there.

“maybe i am.”

[rewiringtoheal]

A Little Bit Of Morning Bliss

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: a relaxing morning spent in bed.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. soft smut.

A/N: First and possibly last time writing smut lol.

You adore mornings like this. The faintest gleam of sunlight surrounds you and Natasha as the two of you cuddle close together. Frisky hands exploring the curves of each other's bodies. Igniting an ember of need within you both. Your mind is hazy as you slowly move Natasha beneath you; her arms and legs curling around you instinctively. You feel her shudder as your breasts make contact. You love having every inch of your body aligned with hers and you know she does too.  You rest your forehead against hers. Just laying there for a moment listening to sounds of your shared breathing and the birds waking up outside. 

“Detka, you’ve been teasing me all morning.” Natasha rasped.

 “Hmmm..” You draw your head back slightly with a soft smile on your face. “I didn’t mean to. I just love being close to you like this.” You whisper.

Natasha melts into the mattress at your confession. The gaze she directs at you is filled with complete adoration. “I love being close like this with you too. It’s the only time I feel like a normal person. In this bed here with you I get to just exist without any expectations. It’s liberating.” Natasha smiles, hugging you tighter. 

“My darling, I’ve never been happier than when I’m here with you. I like being in our little cocoon together as well. I love you so much.” You confess.

 “I love you too, more than you could ever know. Now..come here. I want you closer.” Natasha purred. 

You dip your head down; gently gliding your nose alongside hers for a brief moment before connecting your lips. You leisurely brush your lips over one another’s. Just enjoying the taste of each other's mouths. Her bottom lip becomes too tempting. You can’t resist sucking it into your mouth and gently biting down. Natasha inhales a shaky breath and opens her mouth up to you. Your tongues meet in a blissful all to familiar dance; lightly massaging themselves together. Not a fight for dominance but a languid affair. The two of you falling into the depths of each other's warmth. 

Both of your hands start to wander over smooth warm skin. Your lips leave her supple mouth to press kisses along her jaw. Your tongue follows the curve of her neck leaving a trail of saliva. Soft little nips are made playfully along the way. Each one causes Natasha to moan. You are soon met with full round breasts, nuzzling both of them in greeting. You revel at the goose bumps that form on her skin. Impatient hands tangle in your hair guiding your head to a pretty pink peak. You take the hint, flicking your tongue over her nipple; coaxing it taut. Until you finally suck the sensitive bud into your mouth. Natasha squirms beneath you. You bring your free hand up to massage her neglected breast. Alternating between rolling her nipple between your fingers and squeezing the tender flesh.

She starts rocking her hips against your pelvis; desperate to find even a little bit of friction. You can feel the warmth of her wetness smearing onto you.

“Fuck, Detka. I need you. Please stop teasing me.” Nastasha pleaded.

You move to hover over Natasha slightly. Your brain momentarily stutters at the sight that greets you. The loveliest shade of red hair fans out across the pillows. Her full pink lips are set in an adorable pout. Those beautiful green eyes you love so much are blown black with desire and a faint flush coats her cheeks. She looks breathtaking. You can feel your own arousal starting to drip down your thighs from the imagery alone. You may have wanted to take your time worshiping every inch of her body this morning but you can't deny her any longer. For both your sakes.

You tenderly caress her cheek. “Baby, don’t worry. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” You whispered.

You kiss Natasha on the lips one last time before withdrawing from her arms. You tap the thighs wrapped around your waist, guiding them open. Situating them to hang loosely on your shoulders. You lay in the coveted position between Natasha’s legs with reverence. Your taste buds start to water at the sight that greets you. Her bright red curls are dripping with desire. Gorgeous pink lips begging to be licked. You look up at Natasha while raking your nails along her thighs. A shiver runs up her body from the sensation. As your eyes lock the room fills with an air of anticipation.

You can’t wait anymore and neither can she. You slide your hands up Natasha’s thighs spreading her lips with your thumbs. You are surrounded by the musky scent of her arousal as you make your first broad stroke up her slit. Natasha’s cry of pleasure echoes in the room. Her hands make their way back into your hair pulling you closer to her. You are in heaven as the salty taste of her coats your tongue. You lap at her entrance, swirling your tongue around it. Before delving in.

“Shit, baby. That feels so good.” Natasha keened, pulling you further into her body, trying to get you to consume her. She starts to grind against your mouth, meeting your tongue thrust for thrust. 

You bring one of your thumbs up to stimulate her swollen clit, with small tight circles. It is in dire need of some lovin after so long without attention. Natasha seems to agree if the shrill obscenities leaving her mouth are any indication.   

“God, don’t stop. So fucking good.” Natasha whined. You groan against her, feeling drunk with lust. The vibrations send trembles through Natasha. “Oh shit..fuck!” Natasha cries out. Strong thighs clamp around your head. You are drowning in her. Your only goal in life is to make her cum. You know she’s close. The walls of her core are clenching around your tongue and her slick is running down your neck. You ignore the ache in your jaw as you devour her. Thrusting into that sweet spongy spot inside of her. You can’t help but groan again knowing how good the vibrations made her feel the first time. As the sensations hit her for the second time you feel her thighs grow tense like a bow string. You see her arche off the bed with a silent cry as she is thrown over the edge. The grinding of her hips transforms into a gentle stutter as you help her ride out her orgasm. 

Natasha’s legs go limp, dropping from your shoulders onto the bed in an uncoordinated movement. You give her thigh an affectionate squeeze. You are covered in her slick, a sheen of sweat coats your bodies, and yet you don’t care. All you want is to cuddle up with Natasha. You slide up her body, nuzzling your nose into her neck. Each one of your legs resting on either side of her abdomen. Your arms hugging her. 

“Mhmm..” Natasha grasped your hips encouraging them to rock into her abdomen, “I wanna make you feel good too, Detka. Ride me.”

You can’t help but comply.  You are so turned on. Natasha’s stomach is covered in your essence. You are sliding more than rocking at this point but the friction feels so good. You cum quicker than you would normally like but who can really blame you. It only takes a few seconds of humping her flexed abs before you are shuddering through your orgasm. 

“Fuck, Natty.” You murmur.

As you collapse onto the body below you. Feeling every ounce of energy drain out of you. You and Natasha wrap yourselves around each other. Just basking in the afterglow.

[hiitsm]

Whispers of Desires

You and your girlfriend are navigating the tender stages of experiencing your first time together.

Whispers of Desires is for 18+ only.

This piece contains intimate conversations about sex, characterized by a mix of awkward, shy, and loving moments. It also includes a depiction of soft, slow, and tender sexual activity, with a focus on emotional connection and mutual care.

-

Note: I’ve spent a lot of time crafting this piece, and while it may be a bit longer than initially planned, I felt that each moment deserved the detail it received. I've adjusted it a little. I hope it meets everyone’s expectations. Thank you so much for the kind messages and support after the teaser. I appreciate it a lot.

-

The kitchen is warm with the scent of freshly baked pastries, the lingering aroma of sugar and butter mixing with the comforting familiarity of Alexia’s home. You stand at the counter, carefully folding a dishcloth, trying to keep your thoughts focused on the simple, repetitive tasks. The to-do list lies nearby, a silent reminder of the things you can control, and the one thing you can't seem to face.

You glance at the list, its contents scribbled in your neat handwriting:

To-Do List: 1. Clean up the kitchen 2. Fold laundry 3. Talk to Alexia about her sexual desires

Your eyes linger on the third item, the one you've been dreading. With a sigh, you quickly strike through it, the pen's ink cutting across the words as if that could erase the anxiety gnawing at you. You can’t bring yourself to talk to her about that, not yet. What if the rumors are true? What if her desires are something you can't fulfill? You don’t want to lose her, but you also don’t want to lose yourself in the process.

You’ve heard all the rumors about Alexia Putellas. That she loves to dominate, to pull her partners apart with a fierce intensity. That she revels in control, in the thrill of the chase. That her passion is raw and fast. Each whisper you caught only fueled your anxiety, a churning storm of nerves that seemed impossible to quiet. You tried to ignore them, to push the thoughts aside, but they lingered in the back of your mind, casting shadows over the love you share.

And now, with the possibility of taking the next step in your relationship looming before you, the fear has only grown. You’re scared to take that step, terrified that your desires aren’t the same as hers. What if you can’t match her intensity? What if what she wants is something you can’t give? The thought of not being enough for her, of failing her in some way, sends a cold shiver down your spine.

You start wiping down the counters, moving in a methodical rhythm, each swipe of the cloth offering a brief distraction from the storm brewing in your mind. The sponge glides over the cool surface, removing traces of flour and sugar, but the tension in your chest remains.

As you straighten up the scattered baking supplies, your eyes drift toward the small, framed photo on the windowsill. It's a candid shot taken on a sunny day, the two of you caught mid-laughter, arms wrapped around each other, the kind of joy that feels almost too good to be true. The memory makes you pause, your fingers brushing the frame lightly as you wonder if you’re letting your fears overshadow the truth of what you have.

The whispers, the rumors, they all seem so distant when you think about the woman you know. The Alexia who smiles softly at you over breakfast, who texts you in the middle of the day just to say she misses you, who holds your hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. But still, the doubts linger, making you question whether you truly know her as well as you think.

The front door clicks open, and you hear the familiar sound of her footsteps, steady and sure, as they approach the kitchen. You barely have time to turn before she’s there, her presence filling the room with an effortless grace.

“Hola, amor,” she greets you, her voice soft and filled with warmth that wraps around you like a blanket. She glances around the kitchen, taking in the clean counters and organized space. “Cómo va todo?”

You quickly grab the to-do list, folding it in half and slipping it into your pocket before she can see the items you’ve been obsessing over. “Everything’s good,” you reply, hoping your voice sounds more steady than you feel. But Alexia is already closer, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of affection and curiosity.

Before she can ask anything more, you close the distance between you, leaning in to kiss her softly. Her lips are warm, and for a moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, shared moment. She hums contentedly against your lips, a small, pleased sound that makes your heart flutter.

“Mmm, that was nice,” she murmurs when you pull back, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She switches to English, her accent making the words sound even sweeter. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer into the safety of her embrace. “What were you up to, amor?”

“Just trying to get things sorted around here,” you say, your voice quieter now, more intimate. “How was your day?”

“Busy, but good,” she replies, her voice a little softer now, as if the closeness between you demands a gentler tone. “I missed you, though.” The sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten with emotion.

“I missed you too,” you admit, your hand resting on her arm, tracing small patterns on the sleeve of her shirt. You can feel the steady beat of her heart through the fabric, and it gives you a small sense of calm. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Alexia’s eyes soften as she leans in for another kiss, this one more urgent, more filled with the longing that has been building up in both of you throughout the day. Her lips move against yours with a tenderness that quickly deepens into something more, a hunger that you feel echoing in your own chest.

Your heart races as you return her kiss, your fingers threading through her hair, holding onto her as if she’s the only solid thing in your world. For a moment, you lose yourself in the warmth of her touch, in the way she makes you feel safe and cherished.

But as the kiss grows more intense, a wave of anxiety crashes over you, pulling you back to the surface. You break the kiss abruptly, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Alexia pulls back just enough to look at you, concern etched on her features.

“Qué pasa?” she asks softly, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture. Her eyes search yours, trying to understand what’s going on inside your head.

You struggle to find the words, torn between the love you feel for her and the fear that’s been gnawing at you for days. You want to be honest with her, to share what’s been weighing on your heart, but the words stick in your throat, refusing to come out. You’re scared, scared that your desires don’t match hers, scared that what she wants is something you’re not sure you can give. And more than anything, you’re scared of losing her, of the possibility that this might be something that could drive a wedge between you.

Alexia waits patiently, her gaze steady and filled with a quiet strength that both comforts and intimidates you. She deserves the truth, but you’re not sure you’re ready to face it yourself. Not yet.

Alexia's concerned gaze remains locked on you as you struggle to find the right words. Your chest tightens with the weight of your fears, and you can feel your face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. The warmth of her hand on your cheek feels comforting, yet it only amplifies your nervousness. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

“I—” you start, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been... thinking a lot about us, and, um, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” You stumble over the words, each one feeling like a hurdle you’re barely able to jump. You clear your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I mean, I know we’ve been... close and everything, and I love you so much, but... but I’ve heard some things, and I—”

You stop abruptly, your hands gesturing awkwardly as if trying to physically grasp the right words. The shame of not being able to articulate your feelings is almost overwhelming. You glance around, desperately searching for something to focus on.

Alexia, sensing your distress, gently guides you towards the couch. “Come on, amor,” she says softly, her voice soothing. “Let’s sit down. You look like you could use a minute.” She leads you to the couch and gestures for you to sit, her touch light but reassuring.

You sink onto the couch, feeling a mixture of relief and dread. Alexia moves to the kitchen, her movements quick but purposeful. She returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you. “Here, drink this. It might help you feel a bit better.”

You take the glass, your hands still trembling slightly as you sip the cool water. Alexia sits beside you, her proximity comforting, yet her eyes are filled with an inquisitive tenderness. She reaches out and takes your free hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

“Whatever it is, we can talk about it,” she says softly. “I’m here for you.”

Feeling the pressure of your emotions building, you fumble for the to-do list you’d tucked away in your pocket. With a sheepish glance at Alexia, you pull it out and hand it to her. Her eyes widen slightly as she looks down at the list, and you see a faint blush spread across her cheeks.

“I, um, I had this list,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It was supposed to help me keep track of things... but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about... that last item.” You gesture vaguely at the paper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Alexia’s eyes dart to the list, and she blushes lightly as she reads the crossed-out line. The color in her cheeks deepens, and she bites her lip, clearly feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation. “Oh, um...” she stammers, her cheeks growing warm. “I see you’ve, uh, crossed out that part.”

You can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you watch her reaction. The sight of her blushing and stumbling over her words makes your heart ache. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I’ve been hearing these things, and I didn’t know if we were on the same page.”

Alexia’s eyes soften with understanding, even though she’s clearly flustered. She reaches out, gently squeezing your hand in a gesture of reassurance. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression,” she says, her voice a little shaky but kind. “I really didn’t mean to cause any worry. I guess I didn’t realize how much those rumors were affecting you.”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, they’ve been on my mind a lot,” you admit. “I’m just scared that my own desires might not match up with what you want. I’ve always preferred things to be a bit softer, you know?”

Alexia’s blush deepens, but she quickly shakes off her shyness, her eyes meeting yours with a sincere intensity. “I understand,” she says softly. “And I want to make sure you feel comfortable with us exploring this together.” She pauses, then adds, her voice growing more confident but still tinged with a hint of awkwardness, “I, um, like to be in control and, well, sometimes a bit rough. But that doesn’t mean we can’t adjust things to fit what we both want.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you at her honesty. “Thank you for sharing that,” you say, your voice tinged with gratitude. “I really appreciate you being open with me. Can I ask you something? What do you like, exactly?”

Alexia takes a deep breath, her shyness melting away as she becomes more animated. “I, um, really enjoy taking the lead, feeling like I’m in charge,” she says, her eyes brightening with a newfound confidence. “But I also love hearing what you like, what makes you feel good. I want to make sure we both have what we need.”

Her willingness to adapt and consider your feelings makes you feel incredibly valued. You squeeze her hand back, your heart swelling with appreciation. “I like it when things are gentle and tender,” you admit, feeling more at ease now that the conversation is flowing openly. “It’s important to me that we both feel good about what we’re doing.”

After the conversation, the dynamic between you and Alexia shifts subtly but significantly. There’s a new warmth in her gaze, an added layer of intimacy that wasn’t there before. The initial awkwardness has melted away, replaced by a deeper understanding and a tangible current of desire that flows between you.

In the days that follow, the air seems charged with a new energy. You notice the way Alexia's touches linger a little longer, the way her kisses are filled with a gentle urgency that wasn’t there before. Conversations take on a more flirtatious tone, filled with playful teasing and soft, suggestive glances. The connection between you feels more electric, more alive, as if the boundaries between affection and desire have become wonderfully blurred.

One evening, after a particularly busy day, you find yourselves curled up on the couch together. The soft light of the lamp casts a warm glow around the room, creating an intimate cocoon where it’s just the two of you. Alexia’s head rests on your shoulder, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on your arm as you talk about your day.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about,” Alexia murmurs, her voice low and warm. Her breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. “I’m really glad we had that conversation.”

“Me too,” you reply, your voice soft. “I feel like things are... different now, in a good way.”

Alexia lifts her head, her eyes meeting yours with a sparkle of playful mischief. “Different how?” she asks, her voice taking on a teasing edge.

You smile, feeling a flush of warmth at her proximity. “Well, for one, there’s this new... tension between us,” you say, your words coming out with a hint of nervousness and excitement. “I feel it every time we’re close.”

Alexia’s smile widens, her eyes darkening with a mix of affection and desire. “I’ve noticed that too,” she says softly. She leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that quickly deepens into something more passionate. Her hands find their way to your face, cupping it gently as her kisses grow more fervent.

As the days pass, the physical connection between you both becomes more intense. You find yourselves stealing kisses whenever you can, your touches lingering with a newfound intensity. Each caress, each look, becomes a promise of what’s to come, a gentle build-up to the moment when you’ll finally give in to the desire that’s been growing between you.

With your heart full of anticipation and a touch of nervousness, you decide to make tonight special. Something that reflects the tender connection you both cherish. You spend the afternoon preparing, wanting every detail to be perfect.

The apartment is filled with the warm, inviting scent of your cooking. You’ve prepared a simple yet elegant dinner, something that you know Alexia loves. The table is set with your best dishes, a bottle of wine breathing on the side, and soft, flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over everything. The lights are dimmed, the apartment bathed in a warm, romantic ambiance that feels almost magical.

You’ve added little touches around the room. Fresh flowers in a vase on the table, the soft strains of music playing in the background, the living room rearranged slightly to create a more intimate setting. It’s a space that feels safe and inviting, designed to make tonight memorable.

As the time draws near, you catch yourself fidgeting with the edges of your dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, adjusting the candles on the table one last time. There’s a nervous flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and anxiety as you wait for Alexia to arrive. You want everything to be perfect, but more than that, you want to show her just how much she means to you.

As the final touches are set, you hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. You quickly smooth down the fabric of your dress, a soft blush warming your cheeks. You’ve chosen something special for tonight. An elegant dress that flows gracefully, making you feel beautiful and confident, even if your heart is still racing with anticipation.

When Alexia steps into the apartment, she pauses in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the sight of you. Her reaction is immediate and genuine. A wide, happy smile spreads across her face, lighting up her features. For a moment, she just stands there, staring at you as if she’s seeing you for the first time. The look of admiration in her eyes makes your heart swell with warmth.

“Wow,” she breathes out, her voice tinged with awe. “You look... increíble, amor. So beautiful.” She takes a step closer, her gaze sweeping over you with a mixture of affection and admiration. “I—I’m so lucky,” she stammers, her usual confident demeanor giving way to a shy, almost bashful expression.

You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at her praise, and you can’t help but smile shyly. “Thank you,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth from her words. The way she’s looking at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

Alexia’s gaze then shifts momentarily to her own outfit—casual training wear that she’s clearly worn just for comfort. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she nervously tugs at the hem of her sweatshirt. “Oh, I, um... I didn’t realize I’d be, uh, underdressed,” she stammers, her eyes flitting between you and her own attire. “I didn’t expect—”

You cut her off gently, stepping closer and taking her hand in yours. “You look great,” you say sincerely, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I love how soft and relaxed you look. I just wanted to make tonight special for you, for us. It’s not about the clothes. It’s about being together.”

Alexia’s blush deepens, but she seems to relax at your words. She looks into your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softening. “You really didn’t have to do all this, but it means so much that you did.”

Without another word, she leans in and presses a tender kiss to your lips. The kiss is warm and full of affection, a perfect encapsulation of the love and understanding that has blossomed between you. When she pulls back, her eyes are filled with a soft, loving glow. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she murmurs, her voice full of emotion.

Her words are reassuring, and you feel your nervousness begin to fade, replaced by a sense of calm. You lead her to the table, pulling out her chair before taking your seat across from her. The candles flicker between you, casting soft shadows on her face as she looks at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

Dinner is a quiet, intimate affair. The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared glances that say more than words ever could. The food is delicious, but it’s the company that truly makes the evening special. With each passing moment, the connection between you deepens, the unspoken promise of what’s to come lingering in the air.

After the last bite of dessert, Alexia leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours. “This was amazing,” she says, her voice low and warm. “Thank you for doing all of this.”

You smile, feeling a flush of pride at her words. “I’m glad you liked it. I just wanted us to have a night that’s... just for you, for us.”

Alexia’s eyes soften even more, and she reaches across the table to take your hand, her thumb gently stroking the back of it. “You’ve made me feel so special tonight,” she murmurs, her voice filled with emotion. “And I want to make sure you feel the same.”

The intensity in her gaze sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s a different kind of shiver than the anxiety you’ve felt before. It’s one of anticipation, of knowing that you’re about to share something incredibly intimate and meaningful with the person you love. You nod, unable to find the right words to express what you’re feeling, but knowing that she understands.

She stands, pulling you up with her, and with a gentle smile, she leads you into the living room. The atmosphere here is even more intimate, the music playing softly in the background, the candles you’d placed around the room casting a soft, romantic glow. Alexia pauses in the middle of the room, turning to face you, her hands resting lightly on your waist.

She looks at you with such affection, such care, that it takes your breath away. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice filled with concern and love. “We can take things slow, amor. There’s no rush.”

You nod, your heart full of love for her. “I’m okay,” you reply, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I want this... with you.”

Alexia’s smile is soft and full of warmth. She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, one that speaks of all the tenderness she feels for you. The kiss deepens slowly, her hands moving up to cup your face, her thumbs brushing your cheeks in a gesture that is both protective and loving.

As the kiss lingers, your hands find their way to her back, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. The room seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of intimacy. The fears and doubts that had once clouded your mind now seem distant, replaced by the certainty that this moment, this connection, is exactly where you’re meant to be.

When she pulls back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, you can see the love and desire in her eyes, tempered by the same care she’s shown throughout the night. “I want you to feel safe with me,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “And I want you to tell me if there’s anything you need, anything you want.”

You nod, your heart swelling with emotion. “I feel safe with you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your feelings. “And I want to be with you... just like this.”

Her smile is full of understanding, and she takes your hand, leading you to the couch where you’d spent so many nights talking, laughing, and just being together. But tonight, it feels different. There’s a sense of anticipation, of something new and beautiful blooming between you.

She sits down, pulling you gently onto her lap, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both protective and possessive. Her lips find yours again, the kiss slow and tender, her hands exploring your body with a softness that speaks of her care for you. You feel her breath hitch slightly as her hands move over the curves of your body, her desire evident but tempered by the gentle way she touches you.

You respond in kind, your hands moving through her hair, down her back, holding her close as you both sink deeper into the kiss. The world outside ceases to exist, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace.

Her lips trail from your mouth to your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, each one sending a shiver of pleasure through you. Her hands continue their gentle exploration, never rushing, always mindful of the pace you’ve set together. You can feel the tension in her body, the restraint she’s holding onto, and it only makes you love her more.

You shift slightly, straddling her lap, your hands resting on her shoulders as you look into her eyes. “Alexia,” you whisper, your voice filled with all the love and desire you feel. “I want this... with you.”

Her eyes darken with desire, but there’s also a softness there, a tenderness that reassures you. “I want this too,” she murmurs, her hands settling on your hips, holding you close. “More than anything.”

The moment feels like it’s wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and mutual affection. Alexia’s fingers gently trace the curves of your waist, and you can feel the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second.

Suddenly, with a playful glint in her eye, Alexia shifts slightly beneath you and starts to rise. You yelp in surprise, your arms tightening instinctively around her shoulders as she lifts you effortlessly from her lap. Her strength is both reassuring and exhilarating, a reminder of her athletic prowess.

“Whoa, careful!” you laugh nervously, gripping her tightly as she stands up. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she chuckles softly at your reaction.

“Relax,” Alexia teases gently, her voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you. I’m an athlete, remember?” She holds you securely against her, her muscles flexing as she adjusts her grip to make sure you’re comfortable.

With a tender smile, Alexia walks slowly towards the bed, her steps measured and deliberate. As she reaches the edge of the mattress, she carefully lowers you onto the soft surface. Despite her careful movements, you cling to her, your arms wrapped around her neck as if reluctant to let go.

She pauses for a moment, her eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of admiration and affection. Her gaze lingers on you, taking in the sight of you stretched out on the bed, your dress clinging to your form in a way that makes her eyes darken with desire.

A warm, affectionate smile spreads across her face as she looks up at you. The connection between you both feels electric, charged with an intensity that makes your heart race. Without breaking eye contact, Alexia leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. The kiss is soft and lingering, a promise of the intimacy to come.

As she deepens the kiss, she begins to lay her own weight down beside you, her body pressing against yours with a comforting warmth. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, syncing with your own in a rhythm that feels perfectly natural.

Her hands explore your dress, her fingers tracing along the fabric as she starts to unfasten it. You help her, your movements synchronized as you pull the dress up and over your head. The dress slides off with a soft rustle, leaving you in your underwear.

Alexia’s fingers trail along your exposed skin, her touch light and teasing. She smiles up at you, her gaze filled with adoration. “You look beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice low and sincere. The way she looks at you makes you feel cherished, every inch of you appreciated.

She then starts to peel off her tracksuit, her movements slightly awkward as she tries to juggle her clothing while maintaining her focus on you. You help her, your fingers brushing against her skin as you assist with removing the tracksuit. Her clothes fall to the floor in a soft heap, leaving her in a simple, form-fitting top and underwear.

With the room filled with a tender, expectant silence, you take a deep breath, your fingers hovering hesitantly above her skin. You let your hands drift toward her chest, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You want to trace your fingers over her beautiful breasts, but you hesitate, unsure if you’re crossing any boundaries.

Shyly, you lift your gaze to meet hers, seeking reassurance in her eyes. The vulnerability in your expression is met with a soft, reassuring smile from Alexia. Her eyes, full of warmth and encouragement, seem to invite you to continue.

“Está bien, amor,” she whispers in Spanish, her voice soothing and full of affection. She gently takes your hands in hers, guiding them with a loving touch to cup her breasts. The warmth of her skin beneath your palms is both exhilarating and comforting.

As you make contact, Alexia lets out a soft, breathy moan, a sound so beautiful and intimate that it sends a shiver of pleasure through you. The sound resonates deeply within you, amplifying the connection you share and making you feel incredibly close to her.

With a gentle yet assertive grace, Alexia begins to take more control of the moment. She shifts her weight slightly, pressing her body more firmly against yours, allowing her warmth and softness to envelop you. Her hands glide over your body with a tenderness that feels both exhilarating and reassuring.

“Just let me guide you,” she murmurs softly, her voice a mix of confidence and tenderness. “Tell me what you like, and we’ll explore this together.”

You nod, your breath coming in soft, uneven gasps as you let her lead. Her fingers trail down your sides, exploring your curves with a careful touch that sends waves of pleasure through you. She lifts her gaze to yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, and you respond with a soft, encouraging smile, giving her the silent permission she needs.

Alexia’s hands continue their journey, gently slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. She eases them down slowly, her movements deliberate and careful as she uncovers your skin. The cool air against your exposed core contrasts with the warmth of her touch, intensifying the sensations you're experiencing.

As she removes your underwear completely, she turns her attention to her own, her fingers deftly working to peel them away. The sight of her undressing, her body illuminated by the soft light, makes your heart race with anticipation. When she finally discards her last piece of clothing, she pauses, letting you take in the beauty of her fully exposed form.

Overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment, you slowly shift into a sitting position on the bed, reaching out to wrap your arms around her. The softness of her skin against your body is electrifying, and you hold her close, your breath mingling with hers.

You lean in to plant gentle kisses on her exposed breasts, your lips brushing against her warm skin with a reverence that conveys just how much you adore her. Each kiss is tender, filled with love and a desire to show her how much she means to you.

You then trail your kisses down her left inner arm, admiring the beauty of her tattoo as your lips make contact with her skin, adding a layer of intimacy and appreciation to the tattoo. You slowly and softly set you teeth in her soft flesh.

The sensation of your kisses and bites elicits a soft, appreciative sigh from Alexia, her body responding to the gentle affection. “I like that,” she murmurs softly, her voice laced with warmth and pleasure. “It feels so good.”

She continues to revel in the intimacy you’re sharing, her hands tenderly caressing your back as you continue to kiss her. The closeness between you both becomes even more palpable, each touch and kiss a testament to your deep connection.

After a while, with a loving and considerate touch, Alexia gently guides you back onto the bed. “Let’s take our time,” she says softly, her voice filled with reassurance. As she helps you settle onto your back, her gaze remains tender and attentive, ensuring you feel both comfortable and cherished.

Once you’re comfortably situated, Alexia positions herself above you with a graceful and deliberate motion. Her core makes contact with yours, and she begins to move with a slow, rhythmic motion. She rocks back and forth with a gentle, deliberate pace, creating a sensation that blends pleasure with the perfect amount of pressure.

Her movements are tender yet purposeful, each shift and glide against you enhancing the intimate connection you’re experiencing together. The rhythm she sets is both soothing and stimulating, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the shared moment of closeness. The feeling of her body moving against yours is a harmonious dance of pleasure and tenderness, deepening the bond you share and making each moment feel incredibly special.

As the pleasure builds, you finally allow yourself to be vocal about how good she makes you feel. Soft, breathy moans escape your lips, each sound a testament to the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. You find yourself unable to keep quiet, your voice betraying the immense pleasure you’re experiencing. The sounds you make only seem to encourage Alexia, her own movements becoming more attuned to your responses, amplifying the mutual pleasure you both are sharing.

As the pleasure between you builds, Alexia’s focus remains unwaveringly on you. Her eyes, filled with a mix of adoration and passion, roam over your face and body. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her voice tender and filled with genuine appreciation. “And you make me feel so incredible.”

Her words are a soothing balm, adding to the warmth of the moment. The pleasure between you becomes almost overwhelming, and in the throes of it, her movements start to quicken. The rhythm of her grinding grows faster, her passion driving her actions as she becomes more lost in the sensation.

In her heightened state of desire, Alexia’s hand reaches out and firmly grabs your right breast, her fingers pinching your nipple roughly. The unexpected intensity makes you gasp in surprise, your body reacting sharply to the sensation. Her eyes widen in alarm as she notices your reaction, and she immediately halts her movements.

“Oh mierda, lo siento, lo siento mucho,” she breathes, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Despite the sudden stop, the sensation had been unexpectedly pleasurable, and you find yourself blushing, feeling exposed but also intrigued. You look up at her, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. “It, um, actually felt good,” you admit shyly. “If you want to, you can continue.”

Alexia’s expression shifts from concern to a warm, relieved smile. Her eyes reflect a blend of affection and excitement as she takes your words to heart. “Are you sure?” she asks softly, her voice tender and filled with a gentle eagerness.

You nod, feeling a newfound confidence in sharing your desires. “Yes, I’m sure,” you affirm. “I trust you, and I want to experience this with you.”

With your reassurance, Alexia resumes her movements, her touch becoming more deliberate and attentive as she finds a rhythm that balances both pleasure and sensitivity. Her continued exploration of your body is filled with a renewed passion and care, ensuring that every moment is both thrilling and deeply intimate.

As the sensations between you intensify, Alexia’s movements become a rhythmic dance of passion and tenderness. Her body rocks gently but purposefully against yours, each motion sending waves of pleasure through you. She maintains a steady gaze, her eyes never leaving yours, communicating unspoken affection and desire.

“You feel so amazing,” she murmurs softly, her voice a tender caress against your ear. “I love the way you respond to me.”

Her words are a constant comfort, her sweet reassurances adding an extra layer of intimacy to the moment. She leans down to kiss you, her lips finding yours with a fervent yet gentle touch. The kiss is a melding of emotions, a silent conversation of love and longing that deepens with each passing second.

As the pleasure reaches its peak, her hands move with a delicate precision, enhancing the sensations and making sure you feel cherished and adored. She holds you close, her body pressed against yours, and the steady rhythm of her movements becomes a perfect symphony of shared ecstasy.

The culmination of your mutual pleasure comes as a breathtaking crescendo. You both feel the rush of release, a powerful and overwhelming wave that washes over you, leaving you breathless and blissful. Alexia’s soft, contented moans mix with your own vocal expressions of pleasure, creating a harmony that is both beautiful and deeply personal.

You kiss her tenderly, your lips moving in a gentle rhythm that matches the lingering waves of pleasure. The kiss is a promise of love and devotion, a sweet exchange that further cements the bond you share. Her hands cradle your face, her touch tender and reassuring as she pulls back slightly to look into your eyes.

“Thank you for being so amazing,” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine affection. “I’ve never felt this close to anyone before.”

Alexia’s eyes shine with a mix of love and satisfaction. “It’s because of you,” she replies softly. “You’ve made this so special. I love you so much.”

As the euphoria of the moment begins to settle, Alexia’s teasing smile makes a reappearance, her eyes twinkling with playful affection. She leans in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face before speaking, her tone light yet filled with meaning.

“I don’t stand a chance of having a normal life with you, do I?” she teases, her voice laced with warmth. “You’ve made me want to do this with you every single moment, exploring new things, finding out what we both like. We’re just getting started, and I’m so excited to explore even more with you.”

She punctuates her words with that little shy smile of hers, the one that always manages to melt your heart. It’s a perfect blend of her natural confidence and the sweet, awkward vulnerability that makes her so endearing.

You can’t help but laugh softly at her words, feeling both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed by the intensity of your connection. “Gosh, what have I gotten myself into?” you tease back, your tone playful but your heart swelling with affection.

Alexia chuckles, her smile widening as she leans down to kiss you again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. “Whatever it is, I hope you’re ready for it,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice carrying both a promise and a challenge.

“I am,” you whisper back, feeling a surge of anticipation for the adventures yet to come.

With her by your side, you’re ready to explore everything. Every desire, every emotion, every new discovery. As you lie there in each other’s arms, the future feels wide open, full of possibility, and you know without a doubt that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

As you hold Alexia close, the warmth of her embrace and the depth of your connection make you realize how unfounded your doubts had been. In this moment of intimacy and understanding, you know with certainty that your fears were unnecessary, and that what you share is stronger and more beautiful than you ever imagined.

-

Note: I realize that some transitions might not be as smooth as l'd like, and plan to refine them later. I just wanted to share this now, even though I haven't done a thorough grammar check yet. Please be gentle with your feedback!

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . ( a collection of lyric prompts based on various works by florence + the machine . adjust phrasing as necessary , will likely be updated in the future . )

it's always darkest before the dawn .

we will find new saints to be canonized .

holy water cannot help you now .

the horses are coming , so you'd better run .

i never felt so alive and so dead .

i'm damned if i do , i'm damned if i don't .

i've always been in love with you .

what has been done cannot be undone .

i don't care whether i live or die .

we will never be afraid again .

i feel nervous in a way that can't be named .

it was so far a fall , but it didn't hurt at all .

the saints can't help me now .

i want to find you and tear out all of your tenderness .

sooner or later , the things you love , you lose .

run fast for your mother , run fast for your father .

i like to think , at least , things can't get any worse .

i would give all this and heaven too .

i was in the darkness , so darkness i became .

all my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling .

in order to get to the heart of things , sometimes you have to cut through .

i'll be dead before the day is done .

time after time , i think "oh lord , what's the use ?"

the heart is hard to translate , it has a language of its own .

it was all so strange and so surreal .

i'm not here looking for absolution .

now and then , it seems that life is just too much .

be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers .

if you could only see the beast you've made of me .

pretty little face stopped me in my tracks .

i'm aching to attack .

you want a revelation , some kind of resolution .

it's so easy to say it to a crowd , but it's so hard to say it to you aloud .

i don't want your heart , it leaves me cold .

i am no mother , i am no bride , i am king .

she's a cruel mistress , and a bargain must be made .

well , me and my ghosts had a hell of a time .

with all my education i can't seem to command my heart .

it's a conversation i just can't have tonight .

you left me in the dark . no dawn , no day .

jesus christ , it hurts .

a woman is a changeling , always shifting shape .

the very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most .

i'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry .

i knew that somehow , i could find my way back .

a thousand armies couldn't keep me out .

i'm ready to suffer and i'm ready to hope .

you've got the love i need to see me through .

is this how it is ? is this how it's always been ?

you keep me up at night .

oh , tell me it's not over yet .

no walls can keep me protected .

i'm going out , i'm gonna drink myself to death .

time goes quicker between the two of us .

would you leave me if i told you what i'd done ?

now , there's no holding back .

oh god , you're gonna get it .

you need your rotten heart and dazzling pain like diamond rings .

in the dark , i can hear your heartbeat .

i never knew my killer would be coming from within .

i was never as good as i always thought i was , but i knew how to dress it up .

don't forget me when i let the water take me .

this world is a beast of a burden .

you know i still like you the most .

what a thing to admit .

sometimes i think it's getting better , then it gets much worse .

i'm on fire , but i'm trying not to show it .

you are the space in my bed .

would you have it any other way ?

things go wrong , no matter what i do .

you make a fool of death with your beauty .

now she sleeps with one eye open , and that's the price she'll pay .

they were there when i woke up this morning .

heaven help me , i need to make it right .

until i wrap myself inside your arms , i cannot rest .

when someone looks at me with real love , i don't like it very much .

would you leave me if i told you what i've become ?

i'm always running from something .

it's good to be alive , crying into cereal at midnight .

okay , but let's discuss this at the hospital .

i know everybody lets you down , and i'll do the same .

your heart is the only place i can call home .

i wish to remain nameless , and live without shame .

sometimes i feel like saying "lord , i just don't care" .

i would put my words into poetry for you if i knew how .

if they ever let me out , i'm really gonna let it out .

but know , in some way , i'm there with you .

i've been wandering the streets for days .

don't let them get you down , you're the best thing i've ever seen .

how could anything bad ever happen to you ?

you couldn't have it any other way .

it's the only way i can escape .

what a place to come from .

little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in .

run for your children , for your sisters and brothers .

you can't choose what stays and what fades away .

you'll be sorry that you messed with us .

call me when you need me .

although we stick together , it seems we're stranging each other .

this is as good a place to fall as any .

in your place there were a thousand other faces .

here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope .

lay me down , let the only sound be the overflow .

there's no salvation for me now .

i'd do anything to make you stay .

what's in a name ? i still remain the same .

i've been taking chances , i've been setting myself up for the fall .

tell me what you want me to say .

you are the silence in between what i thought and what i said .

i've been a fool , and i've been blind .

i never knew daylight could be so violent .

regrets collect like old friends , here to visit for your darkest moments .

so you packed your bags just to wait out the shitstorm ?

my doe , my dear , my darling ...

you're my head , you're my heart .

everyone lets you down in this brief hole of a town .

i'm not giving up , i'm just giving in .

i've been losing sleep , i've been keeping myself awake .

sometimes i feel like throwing my hands up in the air .

the only solution was to stand and fight .

i don't know how it started , don't know how to stop it .

i'm done with my graceless heart .

i can never leave the past behind .

do they speak to you ? 'cause they speak to me too .

i thought that love was a kind of emptiness .

it's hard to dance with a devil on your back .

sometimes i wonder if i should be medicated .

every demon wants his pound of flesh .

tell me what all the sighing's about .

could you tell from the moment we met ?

i heard your voice as clear as day ... you told me i should concentrate .

all my girls have their lace and their crimes .

i like to keep some things to myself .

no one asks any questions here .

the feeling comes so fast and i can't control it .

you came over me like some holy rite .

i was screaming out a language i had no idea existed before .

i thought that love was on stage , giving yourself away to strangers .

leave all your love and your longing behind , you can't carry it with you if you want to survive .

i thought that love was in the drugs , but the more i took the more it took away .

i never wanted anything from you , except everything you had and what's left after that too .

i don't want your future , i don't need your past . one grand moment is all i ask .

[yannawayne]

viii. a little death

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: MILD SMUT (will put indicators if people want to skip), Established relationship, Wounds, Violence, Suggestive jokes, Doppelgangers AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

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 ༻⊰───⋅

The black of his suit bleeds seamlessly into the surrounding darkness, making him appear more phantom than man.

He looks like a living nightmare.

Damian lifts his head just in time to see Batman towering over you, his cape billowing ominously in the night breeze. A cold chill runs down Damian's spine as dread settles heavy in his chest. Of all people, his father was the last person he wanted to find him here like this—vulnerable, exposed, and with you.

Reacting on pure instinct, Damian scrambles to his feet, positioning himself firmly between you and the Dark Knight.

"Father." Damian’s voice is low but steady, though the weight of what’s happening lingers in every syllable. His mind races, knowing that Batman doesn’t recognize you in your vigilante form and likely believes he's cheating on you.

To Batman, this looks like betrayal.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Sunday, 12:13 AM - Stark Tower, Gotham City.

The rhythmic clacking of a keyboard filled the room, a steady, almost hypnotic sound that gently tugged you from sleep. You stirred, the tangled sheets wrapping around you like a cozy cocoon. Damian’s strong arms were draped around your shoulders and waist, his warmth a comforting presence as he held you close.

As he shifted slightly, his fingers traced absentminded patterns along your back, a tender caress that sent a soft shiver of relaxation down your spine. You groaned softly, turning towards him and resting your head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear was a soothing, rhythmic pulse, grounding you in the comfort of his embrace.

Across the room, Morgan was propped up at your desk, her messy hair pulled back with a headband, though a few stray tendrils had escaped and framed her face in an untidy halo. Her eyes were fixed intently on the laptop screen, where a Google document was open, filled with lines of text that seemed to flow endlessly. In her free hand, she cradled a steaming cup of coffee, the rich aroma wafting through the room and mingling with the faint scent of the morning air. 

After returning to the tower yesterday, you and Damian had practically slept through the entire morning—this one, however... 

You groaned, burying your cheek deeper into the pillow as you tried to block out the light from the laptop and her typing. 

“You bitch. Do you ever sleep?” you grumbled, your voice thick with sleep as you rubbed your eyes with the heel of your hand.

Morgan gave you a lopsided grin, the steam from her coffee curling around her face like a comforting fog. “Sleep? What’s that?”

You rolled onto your back, stretching your limbs. “That’s usually my line.”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “I know. Just kinda hyper tonight,” she said, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she continued typing.

"By the way,” she hummed thoughtfully, “what kinks do you think Nightcrawler would have?"

"..."

You could feel Damian’s confusion even before he spoke. "Excuse me?" he blinked at her, squinting as if he’d misheard. “Why on earth would you ask that? And why now, of all times?” “I’m writing fanfic,” she replied matter-of-factly, still typing away. “Ooh! You’re her boyfriend. What kind of freaky stuff do you think her hero-sona would be into?”

You stifled a laugh, propping yourself up on one elbow to enjoy the show. “Choking kink.”

Damian, who had been leaning against the headboard, choked on his own spit. His eyes widened in shock, and his face turned a deep crimson. “What?!”

“Don’t play dumb,” you snickered, reveling in the way his skin turned redder by the second. “I know you knew this one.”

Morgan’s gaze flickered between you two, her expression momentarily blank, though a hint of something inscrutable flashed in her eyes before she quickly shook it off. She returned to her typing, the clacking of keys filling the room once more.

“That’s so basic,” she huffed, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Give me a better one. I need something with a little more flair.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Bondage, then. Webs, remember?”

Damian's face turned an even deeper shade of red at the mention of webs, his mind clearly racing to process the suggestion. 

Morgan’s fingers paused mid-keystroke as she considered your suggestion. A slow, mischievous grin spread across her face. “Web bondage? Now that’s more like it,” she said, quickly typing it in. “I can work with that.”

“I’m surrounded by lunatics,” he muttered.

Morgan grinned wickedly. “Lunatics, maybe, but this is going to be one hell of a fic. And don’t worry, Dames, I’ll make sure Robin gets some action too.”

He shot her a glare. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“There are ships of us already?” you blink, surprised. 

Morgan coughs into her hand, an odd twist in her face. “There are ships of everyone these days. People have imaginations that just don’t quit. "

“I had no idea,” you said, blinking in surprise. “What do they call it? SpideyBird? WebWing?”

Damian looked genuinely disgusted. “Why do they even need a name for it? Why are people spending time on this?”

You patted Damian’s shoulder reassuringly, trying to lighten the mood. “At least they’re rooting for us to be together, right?”

Morgan just shrugged off Damian’s reaction and continued to write. “The fanfics of you are pretty fresh. Only around a hundred works so far, but the edits…” She trailed off, her fingers fumbling for her phone with a mischievous grin.

Groaning, you shut your eyes as Morgan’s grin widened. 

“Do not show me—” you began, but before you could finish, the audio started blaring from her phone.

Well, come and get it now Come and get it now Baby, show me what you're doing Come and turn around 'Cause it's not just a figure of speech You got me down on my knees It's getting harder to breathe out

“MORGAN!”

She looked up, grinning widely as if she’d been waiting for this exact reaction.

“What?” she laughed, thoroughly enjoying the moment. “You can’t tell me this hot.”

Curiosity got the better of you, and despite your better judgment, you peeked at the screen. The video was a shaky close-up, showing you leaning against a car, your hair tousled and your armor cracked. You were breathing heavily, your head thrown back.

The camera zoomed in slowly, and the lyrics that accompanied it were dramatic and overly romantic, turning the entire scene into something far more intimate than it had ever been. You could almost understand why someone might find it “hot,” but that didn’t stop the wave of embarrassment from flooding through you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “That is horrible. I was literally on the brink of death. Was that from last night?” “Yeah,” Morgan nodded as she replayed the clip. “Your fans ate it up. Apparently, it’s going viral.”

Damian, who had been eerily silent throughout the entire exchange, finally broke his silence. “Where is that on?”

You immediately yanked your hands away from your face, your eyes wide with disbelief. “No. Don’t even think about it.”

“Tiktok,” Morgan answered casually, a hint of mischief in her tone. To your horror, Damian pulled out his phone

“Don’t you dare!” you warned, but it was too late. Damian was already typing your codename into the search bar. 

As the search results loaded, an edit began to play, and you felt your face flush with heat. The chosen song only seemed to amplify the humiliation. 

Touch me, yeah I want you to touch me there Make me feel like I am breathing Feel like I am human

Damian, smirked, liked the video, and saved it.

“STOP!”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Sunday, 8:06 AM - Gotham City.

"..."

"..."

"Why—"

"Don't—" you seethed, sinking deeper into the plush leather seat of Tony’s limousine. The soft leather creaked under your weight as you clenched the armrest, your knuckles turning white. "Don’t even say a word."

Damian pressed his lips together, suppressing a smirk. 

His gaze drifted over your outfit—no, the uniform you’d been practically forced into. The Stark Industries cap perched on your head was like a crown of corporate shame, its logo glaring down at you from the brim. Your shirt clung uncomfortably to your torso, the bold emblem stretched so tightly across your chest it might as well have been tattooed on. Even your sneakers were branded with that obnoxious red logo.

You felt like a sellout.

“You look stunning,” Damian said, barely holding back a laugh as he glanced over at you from his seat across the limo. 

“Stunning?!” You shot him a scowl, the edges of your mouth twitching downward. “I look ridiculous!”

“Why didn’t you just wear—”

“I couldn’t!” you snapped, jabbing a finger at Morgan. “This fucking ginger goblin threw my clothes out! Now I’m stuck as a goddamn billboard!”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo," she mocked, turning to you from her spot in the limo, sprawled comfortably on the cushions. Her fingers casually brushed against the plush fabric as she spoke, “Don’t shoot the messenger. Dad’s idea, not mine. He wanted you to have a ‘fresh look.’”

You turned to Tony, who was lounging at the far edge of the limo, his dress shoes propped up against one of the seats. He was absorbed in his phone, mindlessly scrolling through this week’s gossip. Occasionally, he chuckled to himself, completely oblivious to the steam practically pouring out of your ears.

Fighting the urge to choke-slam him right then and there, you spoke up “What the hell is this all for, anyways?”

Tony peered up from his phone and grinned, “Oh, come on. It’s a marketing move. There’s going to be paparazzi and everything. We thought it’d be fun to put you in our new line of promotional gear.”

“Fun? You think this is fun?!”

“It’s not like we’re asking you to wear spandex,” Morgan snickered, her eyes drifting to meet Damian’s. He shot her a glare in response. “It’s just a little branding.”

“I’d almost rather be wearing spandex,” you grumble, pressing your cheek to the cool glass of the window. Your breath fogs up the surface, creating a clouded view of the city beyond.

Morgan whistles. "That's a sight I'd love to see."

You roll your eyes. The cityscape outside rushes by, a blur of towering buildings and streaks of light blending into a hazy, indistinct swirl. Outside, the world seems distant, almost unreal, as if you're moving too fast to truly grasp any of it.

“By the way, you’re going to hate me, but…” Morgan spoke up again, reaching into her bag. “I also brought a jacket.” She held out a sleek, branded jacket that perfectly matched the rest of the outfit.

You slammed your head into the glass and vowed to burn every Stark-branded item you owned.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Sunday, 8:14 AM - Wayne Tower, Gotham City.

Bruce wondered if it was too late to file for unemployment.

He sat at the head of the conference table, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the middle-aged man droning on in a monotone voice. The man's garish mustard-yellow tie jerked awkwardly with each exaggerated gesture, as if trying to bring some life to the dull presentation. His glasses, too large for his face, inched down his nose with every movement, threatening to fall off completely.

“—as you've all been aware, we've been facing issues regarding our stolen drone flight technology due to criminal activity in the—”

The slides projected onto the screen, filled with graphs and charts, were melding into an endless stream of data that felt like it was slowly turning his brain into mush. Bruce barely registered them. Instead, his mind was a million miles away, lost in a fog. He let his attention drift to the ceiling tiles, idly counting the tiny imperfections as the briefing continued. 

TICK. TOK. TICK. TOK.

He glanced at his watch, stifling a groan as he saw only a few painful minutes had passed since he last checked. The meeting, as usual, felt like a slog, but today was particularly grueling. 

His thoughts kept drifting back to the text he received last night. Damian had invited him to your dress shop appointment today, telling him he would be covering the bill. Without a second thought, Bruce agreed and sent his card over—and if Alfred hadn’t intervened, he might have ended up buying out the entire boutique in his enthusiasm.

Could you blame him?

Much like Selina, you were stubbornly independent—always managing on your own, even when you needed support. It was a trait that made him proud, but it also left him wishing he could be more involved in your life.

If Bruce were a better man, less emotionally constipated as he often chastised himself, he might have reached out more. He might have asked if you needed to talk, offered his support more openly, and bridged the gap that seemed to widen with each passing year.

But he wasn’t that man. He was the one who held back, kept his feelings guarded, and let the distance grow because he didn’t know how to close it.

Adding salt to the wound, Stark would be there too, intruding on what should have been his time with you. 

An absolute diva. That man had a way of dominating any room, leaving little space for anything—or anyone—else. It wasn’t just Tony’s overwhelming presence that irked Bruce, but how effortlessly Stark seemed to connect with you.

In just a few months, Tony had managed to get closer to you than Bruce had in years. Where Bruce held back, Tony leaned in, closing the gap he couldn’t seem to bridge.

To make matters worse, Stark had already gotten a head start. Although Bruce would have loved to pick you up himself, he was stuck in this meeting he couldn’t cancel again—he’d already rescheduled it thirteen times.

Which is why, the moment the clock hit 12, he was already on his feet, pushing his chair back and making a beeline for the door.

"Sir, we still need to discuss—" mustard tie stuttered, but his protest was cut short as Bruce, without turning or breaking his stride, raised a hand and dismissed him with a flick of the wrist.

“Contact my secretary if you need anything,” Bruce called over his shoulder, his tone leaving no room for debate. The matter was closed.

“I’ll handle whatever needs to be done tonight,” he said, shutting the door firmly behind him.

And he would. Bruce had already gathered a significant amount of data on Black Mask and the recent robberies plaguing Wayne Enterprises. Although the case had taken a backseat amid the chaos with the spider vigilante, it was time to refocus. The priority now was to tackle what truly needed his attention.

As he stormed through the hallways, the lens of a nearby CCTV camera tracked his movements.

The camera’s feed flickered momentarily. The image on the screen sputtered and glitched, revealing fleeting glimpses of different worlds—flashes of varying times and places. Colors bled into one another, shapes twisted and warped, and for a brief, disorienting moment, the image seemed to fracture, as if reality itself was breaking apart.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the glitching ceased. The feed stabilized, leaving only a faint trace of the anomaly that had briefly unsettled the surveillance system.

Bruce jabbed the button for the ground floor and slid into the elevator. 

The lens refocused, but he was already out of sight.

 ༻⊰───⋅

The vehicle glided to a stop in front of a gleaming marble building, and you all stepped out, heading toward the entrance. The interior was as opulent as the exterior promised. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, and glass walls reflected the polished attendants who moved gracefully in their sharp suits. Nearby, customers mingled and laughed, their designer outfits adding vibrant splashes of color to the sleek surroundings. 

Your attention was drawn to the sleek signage behind the lobby desk, where a name was displayed in elegant gold lettering.

“La Ouvere.”

French. Expensive. So luxurious it practically oozed excess. Because, of course, this was the place Tony chose.

Grumbling, you adjusted your cap to hide your face. 

You couldn’t believe he made you wear company merch to a place like this. 

CLAP.

You looked up just in time to see two rough hands slam together in a handshake, the sound sharp and echoing through the lobby like a gunshot. Tony and Bruce exchanged pleasantries, their faces stretched into wide, almost painfully forced grins.

"Bruce! Good to see you," Tony started, his voice oozing with practiced charm. "I’ve got to say, I am a huge fan of your recent striptease at the Iceberg Lounge."

"Ha." Bruce’s reply was tight-lipped. "Tony. Always a pleasure."

The handshake lingered a beat too long, both men gripping each other’s hands like they were trying to see who could squeeze the other’s bones into dust first, daring the other to flinch.

Bruce placed a hand on your shoulder with a fatherly air. “I’m glad you saw great potential in her. I’ve always known her to be quite the achiever from a young age.”

Tony wasn’t about to let that go uncontested. He quickly slid his other hand onto your shoulder,  “Well, if anyone’s been pushing the limits and achieving great things, it’s definitely been her.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And it’s all thanks to the support system. After all, it’s not just about talent but the environment that nurtures it.” He gave your shoulder a pat, adding, “Despite the struggles, her aunt raised her well—you just get to reap the benefits. Haha. Not everyone can rely on billion-dollar labs to get ahead.”

“Well, thanks to me,” Tony says, giving your shoulder a shake (again with the shoulders thing.) “I’d say she’s got plenty of both now.”

The testosterone in this room was so thick you could practically taste it.

“Alright,” you shake your head, gently removing their hands from your shoulders. “Lovely. Nice. Wow. Can we like, go inside now?”

Tony tossed you a quick glance and said, “Right. Lead the way.”

Bruce gave a curt nod. “Of course. After you.”

They both reached for the door handle at the same time, their fingers colliding in an awkward, fumbling dance. For a split second, they froze, locking eyes with a mutual glare.

Seconds dragged on, feeling like hours. Neither man budged. Their hands, now tangled together in a bizarre and clumsy struggle, seemed locked in an absurd standoff. Tony’s fingers began to subtly shift, attempting a stealthy maneuver to slip underneath Bruce’s grip. But Bruce wasn’t having any of it. With a deliberate twist of his wrist, he countered Tony’s advance, blocking the move with a firm slam.

Another minute stretched out, each second heavier than the last.

You couldn’t take it any longer.

“Are you two having a staring contest?”

"..."

"..."

Tony blinked first, cursing softly under his breath. Bruce’s smirk broadened, twice as smug than usual.

“Oh my god. Just move!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration. “We’re here to shop, remember?”

The two men released the door handle simultaneously as if startled out of their petty contest. Tony stepped aside with a flourish, giving a dramatic sweep of his arm. “After you, mademoiselle.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

“These are the choices given to you by Mister Stark and Mister Wayne. Social event, oui?” the attendant says, her tone professionally neutral despite the clearly forced, fake French accent. She smooths down your black undershirt, ensuring it's perfectly straight before presenting the options.

She holds up the first suit: “Deep scarlet. Rich, saturated color—like fine wine. A luxurious wool blend. Two-piece. Tapered trousers, invisible stitching. Streamlined silhouette. French cuffs.”

Then she displays the second option: “Now, dark silk. Smooth, so smooth—like velvet in night. Classic sheen, very elegant. Three-piece. Also with tapered trousers, invisible stitching. Slim silhouette. Barrel cuffs.”

With a smile, she adds, “Both have their own magic, non? What shall you choose for the grand affair?”

“Uh,” you gape like the peasant you were, eyes darting between the two suits which seem nearly identical apart from their color. You barely caught onto the details the attendant pointed out.

As you wrestle with your decision, snippets of the conversation between the two men outside drift through the curtain.

“Sometimes, a classic black suit just gets the job done,” Bruce interjected. “It’s timeless and professional, never out of place.”

Tony retorted, “Oh, sure, blending into the background is so exciting. Why not go for red—loud, in-your-face, and impossible to ignore? It’s a damn statement.”

Bruce’s voice grew sharper. “I don’t know if you’re the right guy to make that call, considering the atrocity you dressed her in today,” he said, gesturing toward the Stark Industries merch discarded on the couch in the dressing room.

“Uh, says the guy who thinks monochrome is the pinnacle of fashion. Please, get real asshole. This is a hell of a lot better than your boring black blobs. Grow up.”

“You grow up,” Bruce shot back.

You roll your eyes and spot another suit hung up on a nearby wall—a deep emerald green. “What’s that one?”

The attendant perks up. “Ah, cette tenue! I apologize, it slipped my mind. This one was provided by the young gentleman with you. I should have mentioned it earlier.”

She holds the suit up to your chest, carefully examining the fit and adjusting the sleeve to ensure it drapes just right. 

“Three-piece suit with pattern. Jacket is single-breasted, notch lapels, welt pocket. The trousers are flat-front, slim fit, with sharp crease. The vest has five buttons, V-neckline, tailored fit. Very technical, very structured.”

You nod, satisfied. “This one. I like this.”

“Oh, magnifique! Excellent choice!” 

She quickly helps you into the suit. First, she slides on the vest, adjusting the straps at the back for a snug fit. Next, she drapes the jacket over your shoulders, smoothing out the fabric and aligning the lapels. Finally, she fastens the trousers, making sure the fit is right and the sharp crease is aligned.

You step out from behind the curtains, and every eye in the room locks onto you.

Morgan's face drops. “She chose the puke color.”

"Wow. Thanks. Really feeling the support here," you scoff, adjusting the sleeves. 

Turning to Damian, you raise an eyebrow, and it's only then that he truly registers what he's seeing. His expression softens gradually as he takes you in. The hard lines of his face are still there, but now they seem gentler, softened. 

You give him a small smile—nothing grand, just a subtle curve of your lips. But you know that even the smallest smile from you is enough to unravel him.

He watches, mesmerized, as you twirl slightly in front of the mirror. The suit hugs your figure perfectly, accentuating every curve.

“This was the boyfriend's pick," you say, flicking and straightening the lapels. Morgan's head snaps up. "I picked it because it matches his eyes, and honestly, I couldn't deal with your guys' arguing any longer.”

"Tt," Damian’s lips curl into a smirk, and he gestures for you to come closer. You step to his side, feeling the warmth of his hand as it rests gently over yours. With a subtle twist of your wrist, your fingers intertwine naturally, fitting together like they've always did.

Tony huffs, shaking his head. “Alright, well, whatever makes you happy. You look snug as a bug, kid.”

“Uh. Arachnid. Not a bug,” you correct him.

Bruce blinks in confusion, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of the interaction, clearly missing the joke.

He shakes his head and gestures to a waiting attendant, who approaches with a tray holding three boxes. The attendant opens the first box, revealing a necklace that catches the light and glints brightly. They lift it out, its shine almost blinding, and place it carefully on the counter.

“If you'd like,” Bruce smiles, “I’ve also picked out some accessories for you.”

The attendant then moves to the next box, lifting the lid to reveal a set of matching earrings, which they arrange neatly on the counter. They proceed to the third box, opening it to reveal a bracelet that sparkles just as intensely as the necklace. The attendant sets everything out with careful movements, arranging the pieces in a neat row.

You hold the necklace up to the light, blinded. “This is... a lot of sparkle.”

Turning to the attendant, you ask, “What’s the damage?”

“The necklace is priced at $250,000,” they say with a smile that’s more tightrope than genuine. “The earrings are $150,000, and the bracelet is $300,000.”

You blink, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, the numbers swirling in your head.

“What the actual fuck?” you blurt out, carefully setting the necklace back in its box with the reverence of someone handling a live grenade. “That’s… definitely not in my budget.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just money. If the price is too much, I can always—”

Bruce cuts him off with a grunt. “No need. I already have the check ready.”

"What?!" You turn to Bruce, shaking your head. “No! No one is buying me more than the suit! I appreciate the gesture, but this is way too overboard.”

"It's not that much, beloved," Damian hums, reaching for the earrings and holding them up to your face. "The necklace I bought you for your 18th cost twice of these combined."

Your eye twitches in disbelief. “You... you told me it was of ‘reasonable price.’”

“It was.”

“How much did you pay?!”

Damian remains silent, avoiding your eyes.

“Damian. Thomas. Wayne—”

Before you can finish, Damian calls over one of the attendants with a casual wave. “Excuse me? We’ll take all of this.”

The attendant, looking a bit taken aback but eager to please, nodded quickly and began arranging the items. You stared at Damian, your eyes practically burning and searing a hole through his stupid undercut.

“You can’t be serious!” 

Damian simply smirked, leaning closer. “Consider it a small gesture for someone who’s worth every penny.”

As you continued bickering, Morgan’s gaze lingered on the scene, her chest tightening with an unsettling, heavy feeling. She could feel something bitter and heavy rising in her chest, and she turned her eyes away, hoping that if she didn’t see it, she could ignore the way it made her feel, that gnawing ache she wished she could forget.

But then she heard your voice, soft and inviting.

"Morgan?"

It was like a lifeline, pulling her back to the present. She turned to you, forcing herself to meet your gaze.

"Can you tell them that I do not need this?" you asked with a groan, your smile radiating warmth. It was the kind of smile that could light up any room, even as your eyes drifted to the glimmering jewelry with exasperation. “They’re completely insane.”

Morgan forced a small smile of her own, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and shrugged slightly. 

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I think they’re onto something. You’re worth every penny. More than any of this could ever show.”

The words came out easy enough, but underneath, she could feel the bittersweet edge of them, something she kept buried deep where no one could see.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Sunday, 10:24 PM - The Safehouse, Gotham City.

Shot through the heart and you're to blame Darling, you give love a bad name An angel's smile is what you sell You promised me heaven, then put me through hell

Music played from her speakers. The lab was dimly lit, illuminated only by the soft glow of various screens and the occasional flicker of a monitoring light. Morgan sat at her workstation, the faint blue light of the holographic display casting a ghostly glow on her face. She was surrounded by a sea of tools, schematics, and half-finished projects, but her attention was miles away from the work at hand.

The thought of how you looked at Damian earlier haunts her deep into the night. 

Morgan’s fingers tapped absently on the console, her gaze distant and unfocused. She tried to lose herself in her work, hoping the details of her projects would distract her from the ache in her chest. But every time she glanced up at the screen, it felt as if her mind was dragging her back to that moment.

It didn't take a genius to see that she had feelings for you.

Woah, you're a loaded gun, yeah Oh, there's nowhere to run No one can save me, the damage is done

On the screen, the potency of the toxin you were exposed to a day ago was being processed. Ivy's old journal lay open in front of Morgan, serving as a reference for comparison.

As she scanned the data, a troubling pattern began to emerge. The readings were unstable, fluctuating wildly and suggesting incomplete or inconsistent results. Hours melted away as Morgan poured over the data, her eyes darting between the fluctuating graphs and the notes in the journal.

An odd, unknown element kept appearing in the results. It was an anomaly.

"This is not supposed to be here...?" Morgan mumbled, scratching at her head.

The journal’s pages fluttered as she flipped through them, desperately searching for any mention of similar anomalies or clues that might explain the glitch. Ivy’s notes were dense with technical jargon and cryptic observations, but none of it seemed to align with the strange data she was seeing on her screen.

BEEP.

Morgan’s head perked up, her attention snapping back to the screen. The familiar, rhythmic pulse of data had been interrupted by a sudden alert.

Element Detected: 𝑜̥̊⃝𝑠̥̊⃝𝑏̥̊⃝𝑜̥̊⃝𝑟̥̊⃝𝑛̥̊⃝

She squinted at the glitching display. The screen flickered and distorted, displaying an unfamiliar string of characters. The text was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

The computer screen continued to flicker violently, lines of code merging into chaotic patterns. Cursing under her breath, Morgan fought to stabilize the screen. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, desperately trying to recalibrate the system.

After a tense few moments, she managed to clear the worst of the glitching. The flickering subsided, and the screen settled into a more manageable state.

Was that someone trying to hack in? The thought crossed her mind with a jolt.

She scrutinized the security logs, reviewed firewall activity, and cross-referenced access records, but found no concrete evidence of a breach. The logs were clear. Everything seemed normal—no unauthorized access, no signs of tampering.

But the unknown element was still there, stubbornly staring back at her from the screen.

Morgan ran her tongue over her teeth, a habit of hers when deep in thought. 

Alright. So. Every sci-fi movie warns against messing with unknown chemicals. And this is definitely one of those “don’t touch” moments. But what’s life without a little risk? Besides, it’s not like she hasn’t faced weird before. 

Problem was… the data on her screen right now was like trying to read a recipe from a cookbook that had been chewed up by a dog—completely useless. If she wanted answers, she’d have to get a closer look.

Morgan quickly set up a new data extraction protocol, isolating the unknown element. The process was slow and tense, but gradually, the substance began to take shape on the screen, its properties becoming clearer with each passing minute.

Once she had successfully isolated the element, she moved on to the next phase: synthesizing it into a serum. With a gloved hand, she carefully heated a glass flask on a burner and began adding the unknown element to the mix, watching as the contents started to react.

The silence was abruptly shattered by a sharp crack that split the air. Morgan’s eyes widened in shock as she saw thee glass flask on the burner shatter into jagged pieces. The once-clear liquid inside had turned into a dark, burned residue, and what was left was a blackened crust coating the inside of the flask.

"Great. Just great," Morgan muttered under her breath. She reached for the shattered glassware, cradling it gingerly in her hand. But as she did, something bizarre began to happen—the flask itself seemed to glitch.

The glass started to flicker and warp as if it were a malfunctioning image. It shimmered and pulsed with an otherworldly light, surface fading in and out of focus, struggling to maintain its form.

"What the fuck?" 

Her eyes stayed glued onto the flask. The constant flickering was starting to give her a headache, a dull throbbing that grew more intense with each passing second. She squinted, hoping to stabilize her vision, but the distortions only seemed to worsen.

Amid her growing confusion, she started to hear faint whispers—strange, disjointed voices that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. The whispers were so low she could barely make out their words, but their presence added to the sense of disorientation that was creeping in.

An unexpected impulse tugged at her—a sudden, inexplicable urge to take the serum. Her hand trembled slightly as she considered the syringe lying on the nearby counter, a dark thought creeping into her mind. 

She stared at the flask, her gaze mad.

A part of her wanted to see what would happen if she followed through with the intrusive thought. 

Then, in a sudden, jarring shift, the erratic glitching reached a peak. The flask’s distortion became so intense that Morgan could barely make out its shape. She snapped back to reality, jolted by the sheer intensity of it all. Her senses were overwhelmed, the whispers louder now, almost shouting in her mind.

In shock, her hand lost its grip. The flask slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor, the blackened remnants scattering across the lab.

CRASH!

The sudden noise of breaking glass cut through the disorienting haze, and Morgan’s breath came in ragged gasps as she stared at the mess before her. 

The strange impulse had vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

The glitching that had plagued the flask started to spread outward, expanding like a ripple through the air. Her eyes widened in disbelief as the distortion grew larger, forming a swirling vortex in the center of the lab. 

The portal-like disturbance expanded further, and out of it, a shadowy figure began to emerge. First, it was just a hand, reaching through the glitching void. It grasped at the air, solidifying into a more defined shape. Morgan's heart raced as the figure pulled itself further into the lab.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, as the figure's hand closed around her arm. The touch was cold and otherworldly, sending a shiver down her spine. She struggled against the grip, her heart pounding as she tried to pull away.

With a sudden, violent shove, the figure tossed her back. Morgan crashed into her workstation, slamming painfully into a shelf, sending tools and equipment clattering to the floor. 

Her eyes darted back to the figure, now fully emerging from the glitching portal. 

The intruder was clad in dark green armor, nearly black in the dim light, with a purple shawl draped over their shoulders and a hood shadowing their face. They wore goggles and a mask that concealed their features, lending them a menacing, almost robotic aura. Despite their height and build matching Morgan’s, there was a palpable strength in their movements, an unspoken threat in the way they stood.

The portal behind them flickered and closed, sealing off the strange rift from which they had emerged.

Morgan scrambled to her feet, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself as she faced the intruder.

“Who the fuck are you?!” she demanded. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she stood her ground, ready to fight if she had to.

The masked figure remained silent, their gaze—hidden behind those reflective goggles—locked onto Morgan. They slowly tilted their head down, taking in the sight of the shattered remnants scattered across the lab floor. 

Morgan followed their gaze and noticed the scattered pieces of a hoverboard. She recognized it immediately from the fragmented components. The design was eerily similar to the one she had in development herself—a project that had been pushed to the back burner.

The intruder’s attention then shifted to the broken glass and the unknown element still displayed on her screen. A soft click of disapproval escaped from behind the mask as the figure nudged the broken hoverboard aside with a booted foot.

“Shame,” they murmured, their voice low and laced with something almost like regret. “I came a minute too early... You should have taken that serum first. You were supposed to. It would have made this easier for both of us.”

Morgan swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what they meant, but she didn’t want to find out. The figure took another step closer, closing the distance between them.

“Who are you?” Morgan pressed. “And how did you even know about that?”

The figure paused, considering her for a moment before answering. “Who I am isn’t important. What matters is what you could have been—what you were supposed to become.”

Morgan’s mind raced as she tried to make sense of the cryptic words. This wasn’t just about the serum—there was something bigger at play. She took a step back, trying to put more distance between herself and the intruder, but the figure only followed, matching her movements like a shadow.

“Don’t worry,” they said softly, almost mockingly. “I should know better than anyone that you would want answers.”

Morgan’s heart skipped a beat as the figure’s gloved hand slowly reached up to their mask. The tension in the room was suffocating, each second stretching out endlessly. The mask and goggles came loose with a soft click, and as they were removed, Morgan’s breath caught in her throat.

It was her.

Her own face stared back at her, a perfect reflection, yet not. There were differences—subtle but unmistakable. The other Morgan’s eyes held a cold, calculating gleam, their hair was longer and pin-straight compared to her short curls, and their lips curved into a smirk that sent a shiver down Morgan’s spine.

“I'm Morgan Stark,” the doppelgänger said, voice eerily familiar yet laced with something darker, something twisted. “But in my universe, they call me the Green Goblin.”

Morgan felt numb. The words didn’t make sense, and yet they explained everything. 

“What... what do you want?” Morgan’s voice was barely above a whisper, the shock of seeing her own face—so twisted and malevolent—making it hard to think straight.

The Other Morgan—the Green Goblin—tilted her head, studying Morgan with a mix of amusement and pity. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said, taking a step closer. “I’m here to make things right. In my world, I perfected the serum. I became something more, something powerful. But in this universe, you... you were just about to throw it all away.”

Morgan shook her head, trying to process the flood of information. “This... this isn’t possible. How can you—”

“Exist?” the Other Morgan interrupted, a cruel smile curling on her lips. “Multiverse theory, sweetheart. Infinite versions of you, of me, of everyone. Even our beloved Spidey. In my universe, I figured it out. Became a goddamn genius... and a bit of a monster, too. Here though? You’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“I don’t care what I—you’ve done in your world!” Morgan’s voice shook with defiance. “You don’t belong here. You won’t get whatever it is you’re after.”

The Other Morgan smirked. “Oh, but I already have. I didn’t come here to take anything. I came to see what I could have been if I hadn’t chosen the path I did. And honestly,” they scoffed, flicking a piece of Morgan’s hair, “I’m disappointed.”

Morgan’s fists clenched at her sides. “Get out,” she spat, her fear giving way to anger. “Get out of my lab, out of my life. Now!”

But they just laughed, a chilling sound that echoed in the small space. “You still don’t get it, do you? I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t come all this way just to walk away empty-handed. If you won’t take that serum, then...”

Before Morgan could react, her doppelgänger lunged toward the remnants of the shattered serum with blinding speed. Morgan scrambled to intercept, but her doppelgänger was faster. In a swift, brutal motion, they slammed Morgan down onto a nearby table, the impact knocking the wind out of her.

Morgan struggled against the hold, but her alternate self was stronger, pinning her down with ease. The twisted grin never left their face as they reached for a syringe. 

Morgan watched the charred solid remnants of the serum begin to twitch and quiver, as if responding to the presence of the syringe. To her horror, the blackened crust slowly liquefied, transforming back into a thick, dark fluid that oozed toward the tip of the needle.

"Shh," the Other Morgan cooed, voice dripping with mock tenderness as they drew the serum up into the syringe. The liquid swirled ominously inside, as if alive with a malevolent intent. “You’ll thank me for this in the future.”

Morgan thrashed, trying to break free, but her alternate self only tightened their grip, leaning in closer.

“Don’t worry,” the Other Morgan whispered, bringing the needle closer to Morgan’s skin. “This is a canon event, sweetheart. This is the part where you become more than just a bystander. This is where you become unstoppable.”

They leaned down, eyes glowing an eerie green. “This is where we kill Robin.”

“No!” Morgan's scream pierced the air as she slammed her knee into her doppelgängers gut, the sudden impact causing them to stumble back.

The Other Morgan staggered backward, clutching their midsection with a pained gasp. Morgan seized the moment, pushing herself off the ground and scrambling for any advantage. Her pulse raced as she darted towards a nearby workbench, grabbing a wrench and holding it defensively.

Scoffing, the Other Morgan recovered quickly, rising to their full height with their long hair cascading over their face, obscuring their features.

"First off, I’m not some fucking homewrecker," Morgan gasped, her breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts as she took a defensive step back, wrench clutched tightly. "And second, you’re insane! Spider’s happy with him! Do you honestly think she’ll fall for you after everything you’ve become?"

“You think you can stop me?” Other Morgan snarled. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”

“I know enough,” Morgan said through gritted teeth, trying to steady her trembling hands. “And I’m not going to let you hurt anyone.”

The Other Morgan’s lips curled into a smirk.

With a swift flick of their wrist, they threw a small device onto the floor. It hissed and released a dense cloud of smoke that quickly filled the room. Morgan’s vision blurred as she squinted, trying to make out the figure through the thickening haze.

Suddenly, a sharp, electric crackle pierced the smoke, followed by a powerful jolt that knocked Morgan off her feet. The room spun around her as she struggled to rise, her head throbbing from the shock.

Before she could fully recover, she felt a tightness around her wrist. She looked down to see a watch strapped onto her, its face glowing ominously. As she tried to make sense of it, a swirling portal began to materialize around her, its edges flickering with an eerie green light.

“Why don’t you take a trip to my universe for a bit?” the Other Morgan taunted, their voice dripping with malice. “I’ll handle things here while you’re gone.”

Morgan tried to protest, but the portal’s force was too strong. The edges of her world warped and twisted as she was yanked into the swirling void.

As she disappeared into the vortex, she heard a faint, mocking laugh. 

The portal closed with a swoosh, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

The Other Morgan turned their gaze to the workbench, their eyes locking onto a pair of scissors lying casually on the counter.

“Alright,” they said with a chilling smile, “first, a haircut.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

They say you’ll be bitten by spiders no less than 500 times in your lifetime, and you probably won’t even notice 95% of those bites.

Spiders might not affect most people that much.

Damian, however, would have a different opinion. He’d also like to punch those people in the face

Tonight, as Robin swings through the city, his gaze is locked onto you. You dart between skyscrapers with a grace that seems almost effortless. Your Starktech suit, still in for repairs, has you back in your old black kevlar—sturdy, reliable, and showing signs of wear.

Damian, out with you for what was supposed to be a routine patrol and sweep, is seeing your skills up close for the first time. He watches as you maneuver through the urban jungle with an ease that both impresses and frustrates him.

He finds himself pacing alongside your swings, trying to stay close—not just to keep an eye on you but because he’s half-expecting to be called into action at any moment. Watching you is like witnessing a high-wire act where the safety net has mysteriously vanished. Moments ago, you executed a daring twist and jump that had Damian’s heart lodged firmly in his throat. He was practically holding his breath, bracing himself for the sickening thud of a broken leg—or worse—only to see you land on your feet with a carefree laugh.

But then, without warning, you yelp and take a sharp turn, diving into the open air. The sudden change sends a jolt through Damian, and his heart skips a beat as he watches you fall fast.

“Nightcrawler!” he shouts, his voice barely audible over the rush of wind. His grappling hook fires with a crack, and he rockets toward you, every muscle straining as he fights the pull of gravity.

Just as you’re about to hit the ground, Damian’s gloved hands wrap around your front, pulling you into his arms with a fierce grip. He tucks you close, bracing for impact. You slam against the wall of a nearby building with a jarring thud, Damian’s boots taking the brunt of the landing. The impact shakes him to his core, but he holds you tightly, shielding you from the collision.

Heaving, he immediately tucks a strong arm against your back, holding you against him. “Are you—”

You burst into laughter, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your cheek against his. “Did you see that? I pulled off a perfect dive!”

Damian’s breath comes in sharp bursts as he steadies you both, his eyes scanning for any signs of injury. “You imbecile! What were you thinking? You could have broken your neck.”

You pout playfully, brushing a stray lock of hair from Damian’s mask. “I was having fun! Come on, I wasn’t actually going to fall.”

Damian shoots you a glare that borders on murderous. "Fun?! Fun isn’t worth risking your life."

His fingers dig into your hips as he continues to hold you tightly against him, his muscles tensed like a bowstring. "And you did fall—nearly landed on your face. If I hadn't been there, you'd be eating through a straw right now."

You tilt your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Uh. But you were there.”

Damian narrows his eyes, his tone dripping with frustration. "Do you get some perverse pleasure out of scaring me to death?"

"Maybe," you drawl with a teasing grin.

Even with his anxiety cranked up to eleven, he can’t help but feel a surge of warmth for you. The irritation in his eyes softens, revealing a flicker of affection.

“You talk and do too much,” he grumbles, though his actions speak louder than his words. As he starts to guide both of you up to a nearby rooftop, his grip remains firm and protective. 

He’s climbing with you in his arms, every muscle straining under the effort. You can’t help but whistle at the impressive display of strength, watching as his muscles ripple beneath his suit with each movement. 

“Tsk,” he scoffs as he hauls both of you up onto the rooftop, setting you down gently.

Once you’re safely on solid ground, Damian steps back, creating a respectful distance between you. As he stands against the backdrop of the city lights, his figure is dramatically framed by the glowing skyline. His cape flutters behind him like a dark, billowing flag, enhancing his imposing silhouette. Robin stands tall, masked, and cloaked in shadows—dark and lean.

You grin coyly at him, your arms tucked behind your back as you take a few steps closer. 

“My hero,” you tease playfully, your fingers trailing gently up his cape.

The gesture almost immediately disarms Damian, his irritation momentarily forgotten.

He snatches your hand away from the fabric, his fingers wrapping around yours in a firm grip. “Is this a joke to you? I am in no mood for your games tonight,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair as he turns his gaze to the city skyline. He bends down, squatting on the rooftop, the city lights shimmering below and casting a soft, ambient glow over the scene.

You follow him, bending down to wrap your arms around his shoulders and drape yourself across his back. Leaning in, you press a soft kiss to his jaw through your mask, the gentle touch warm against the cool night air.

Damian’s shoulders relax slightly under your embrace, and he closes his eyes momentarily, savoring the closeness. For a moment, he considers chastising you, but the feel of your body pressed against his back makes the words die on his lips.

Instead, he lets out a sigh and shifts his position, guiding you so that you slide down his back into his lap, your legs draped on either side of his hips.

“You know,” he murmurs, “you’re not making it easy to stay upset with you.”

“That’s the point,” you whisper, your breath warm and teasing against his skin. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says, moving to stand and pulling you up with him. 

You giggle, your fingers trailing down his chest, light and teasing. Your claws graze over the contours of his suit, scratching at the armor that covers his chest and abs. The sensation is electric, sending shivers through both of you.

“Careful,” Damian rumbles, his voice a low growl as he grabs your hands once they reach his waist, his grip firm but not unkind. You’re getting a rise out of him, in more ways than one.

You lean in closer, wickedness dripping from your lips. “When have I ever been careful?”

Damian’s eyes narrow, the heat in his gaze intense as he draws his face inches from yours. "You never are. You are a reckless, impulsive, and downright idiotic woman." 

“Yeah,” you press your chest against his, your voice low and teasing. “I get that a lot.”

"And you just love proving them right, don’t you?" he says, his voice low and laden with both warning and something else.

“Is that a threat, Robin?” you whisper, your voice dripping with challenge. Flicking your wrist up, you web his chest and pull him down. 

He crashes into you, his body pressing against yours. His hands fly to your thighs, gripping the supple flesh there.

A smirk spreads across his face. "Merely a promise."

Without another word, Damian tugs your mask off and closes the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a fierce, heated kiss. His mouth moves with a possessive intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, his tongue teasing yours as he pulls you closer, leaving no space between your bodies.

You feel the low rumble of his moan vibrating through your chest, a sound that only fuels the fire between you. As your hands tangle in his hair, you suddenly notice something that makes you pause—he’s smirking against your lips.

He’s smirking. The fucker is smirking.

Grinning against his lips, you pull back just enough to murmur, “So my Spidey thing turns you on? Or is it the webs?”

"Keep talking like that and I'll have to shut you up," he grunts, his voice rough with desire before he silences you with another kiss, this one deeper, more consuming. His grip tightens as he claims your mouth again, leaving no doubt about the effect you have on him.

He presses you back, and in the heat of the moment, you take a step backward with more force than intended. Your injured ankle lands awkwardly, sending a jolt of pain shooting up your leg. Despite being healed, it still ached every now and then, and this was one of those painful reminders.

You pull away with a sharp hiss, unable to stifle the reaction. 

Damian's concern for you immediately eclipses his previous frustrations. His hands find your hips, steadying you to prevent you from putting too much weight on the injured foot.

“What happened? Did I—”

“It’s just,” you wince, carefully adjusting your stance, “just my ankle. It’ll be fine.”

"I thought you said you were healed," he fusses.

"Guess I thought wrong."

"I wouldn’t have let you out with me tonight if I’d known you were still having trouble. You should have told me it was still bothering you." he scolds.

You frown, your voice softening as you look up at him. "I just... I just wanted to spend time with you. Are you mad?"

Damian’s expression softens with an almost pained look as he carefully gathers you in his arms, lifting the weight off your injured ankle. 

"Mad? No, I'm not mad," he hesitates then, his grip on you tightening slightly. "But I'm worried. I worry about you, and your actions tonight didn’t exactly ease my concerns."

He looks down at your ankle, gently tracing his fingers over the injury. 

“I’m sorry. This is my fault. If I hadn’t—Last night, if I’d just taken time to ask you—you wouldn’t be hurt in the first place,” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he brings his face close to yours. The apology is raw, and when he mutters it against your lips, his breath hitches in his throat, overwhelmed by the warmth in your eyes.

“You had your reasons; it’s okay,” you say with your usual forgiveness, the kindness in your voice a balm to his aching conscience. 

His fingers gently graze the back of your neck, the touch tender and almost reverent. 

“I should have been more careful,” he murmurs, thick with regret. “I’ve let my anger cloud my judgment.”

“Damian, it’s fine,” you said, running your fingers through his hair and gently swinging your legs. “I trust you. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. We all have our moments, and it was just a bad time for both of us. I love you, and I trust you.”

Damian made a soft sound. Up close, in his arms, there was no space between you, and he seemed softer, more touchable.

“I love you too.”

You cupped his face gently as his other arm slid below your head, pulling you even closer. His strong arms enveloped you, holding you in a way that felt perfectly right—moving closer, exchanging breaths, and locking eyes to see everything there was to know about him.

 ༻⊰───⋅ smut begins

Whispering his name, you kissed him again, and he eagerly returned the gesture. 

He guided you into a shadowed corner, his kisses growing more urgent and insistent as he pressed you against a wall. The world around you began to dissolve into a swirling haze. The only sensations that mattered were the feel of your breath mingling with his, the whisper of your voice against his, and the way your hands tugged at his hair. 

You. You. You.

His tongue brushed against your lower lip, asking for entrance, which you granted immediately, opening your mouth and deepening the kiss. His hands roamed over your body, mapping the curves and contours like a blind man seeing the world for the first time.

You raised your knee and pressed it against him, eliciting a groan from Damian, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “Fuck…”

You teased softly, “That good?”

“As always, habibti.”

Damian’s words were swallowed by another kiss as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer, bodies pressing together in an intimate embrace.

His fingers roamed up your back, tracing the curve of your spine with the practiced touch of a man who knows you intimately.

Smirking wolfishly against your lips, Damian slowly dragged down the zipper on the back of your suit. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, amplifying every sensation as he worked his way down.

The heat between you two quickly spiraled into an unstoppable force that surged and twisted. 

His utility belt falls to the ground with a loud clang, the buckle hitting the asphalt. Fingers trembling with impatience, Damian tugs at his suit's zippers, each one loosening with a sharp hiss before he dives back in. 

Every touch, every movement, seemed to ignite a deeper craving within him. Each time you breathed his name, it was like a spark that fueled his losing control, pushing him further into the abyss of his desire.

He wanted more of you—every part of you, every inch of your skin, every breath you took.

He dips his head down, his mouth finding the pulse point on your neck. His tongue flicks out, hot and wet against your skin, as he begins a trail of kisses down your collarbone that sears into your skin. 

"I need to feel you, sweet girl." Damian's words come out in a guttural moan, half-curse, half-plea. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as his mouth found your chest, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Damian,” you gasped, your voice a low moan. “Please.”

A flurry of movements passes, and finally, he's pressing himself into you. Your body welcomes him like it was always meant to be, fitting together perfectly as if he was always meant to be a part of you.

His cape falls over you, enveloping you both in a cocoon of shadows and heat. 

The rhythmic movement of your bodies creates a slow, intense friction between you. The heat between you two was scorching, each touch and caress creating sparks of pleasure that shot through your body. Damian's teeth sank into the soft skin of your neck with a possessive fervor, leaving behind marks that would linger long after the night was over.

He could feel you pressed against him, your warmth melding with his. The taste of you lingered on his lips, the flavor of you lingering with every kiss. The sweet sounds of your pleasure, your moans and gasps, filled and echoed in his ears. The scent of your perfume, intoxicating and familiar, drifted in the air, consuming, overwhelming his senses and pulling him deeper into you.

It was all you. Everything was you.

It comes in waves, each one building and cresting until the final surge pulls you completely out of orbit. Your toes curl, your thighs lock, your heart seems to freeze, and a cry of his name escapes your lips, echoing in the space between you.

“Yes,” Damian pants out. “There you go, habibti. Just like that…” 

He buries his face in your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your skin as he follows you through the aftershocks. Gently, he guides you down from your peak, his hips rolling slowly against yours until the rhythm gradually subsides. He murmurs love confessions in Arabic, lips trailing loving kisses over every inch of exposed skin, soothing you as you twitch and tremble in his lap. 

As the aftershocks subside, Damian gently lifts you and tucks you against his chest. 

"You okay?" he asks, soft and filled with concern. He gently massages your lower back, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin.

He pulls his cape around you like a blanket, wrapping you in a layer of warmth. Even in the middle of the night on a secluded rooftop, he’s focused on making sure you're cared for and cozy.

Damian adjusts his suit and re-secures his utility belt. Taking a cloth from his belt, he begins to wipe you down, removing any lingering traces of the night’s events. Once you're clean, he carefully tugs your suit back on, smoothing out any wrinkles and zipping it up with steady hands. 

 ༻⊰───⋅ smut ends

“Thank you,” you rasp out, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Damian’s response is tender; he nuzzles his face into your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to your skin. His touch is warm and reassuring. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieves your mask and hands it to you.

You tug it back on, but before you can pull it down completely, Damian leans in and kisses you. Smiling, you kiss him back, the mask only partially covering your face, leaving your lips and the lower part of your cheeks exposed.

!!!

You slowly push Damian back, a sense of alarm creeping into your consciousness.

!!!

A loud thud echoes in the distance.

DANGER.

Before you can process what’s happening, Damian is violently knocked away from you. He’s flung onto the ground with a forceful crash, the impact sending a shockwave through the rooftop. You watch, breathless, as he hits the surface hard, pain etched across his face.

Cursing, you try to move toward him, but a sudden, chilling presence makes you freeze. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the dark, sweeping fabric of a cape fluttering through the air. Your heart skips a beat as you turn, dread coiling in your stomach.

Batman.

For a moment, the world narrows to the figure looming before you, the embodiment of shadow and fear. The distant hum of Gotham fades, leaving only the thudding of your pulse, loud and insistent in your ears. The scattered light from the city below creates jagged contrasts on Batman's armor, casting him in sharp highlight. The black of his suit bleeds seamlessly into the surrounding darkness, making him appear more phantom than man.

He looks like a living nightmare.

Damian lifts his head just in time to see Batman towering over you, his cape billowing ominously in the night breeze. A cold chill runs down Damian's spine as dread settles heavy in his chest. Of all people, his father was the last person he wanted to find him here like this—vulnerable, exposed, and with you.

Reacting on pure instinct, Damian scrambles to his feet, positioning himself firmly between you and the Dark Knight.

"Father." Damian’s voice is low but steady, though the weight of what’s happening lingers in every syllable. His mind races, knowing that Batman doesn’t recognize you in your vigilante form and likely believes he's cheating on you.

To Batman, this looks like betrayal.

Bruce's hurt gaze flickers briefly to Damian before settling on you, his eyes unreadable beneath the shadowed cowl. His voice cuts through the silence like a blade, deep and gravelly. “Step aside, Robin.”

Damian doesn’t budge, his chin lifting in stubborn refusal. “No.”

“I won’t repeat myself,” Bruce warns, his tone colder, more commanding. “Move. Now.”

“You don’t understand,” he snaps back, voice laced with urgency. “It’s not what you think.”

“Isn’t it?” Bruce’s gaze hardens as it shifts back to you, scrutinizing every detail of your vigilante form. He’s searching for something—anything—that might give him a clue to your identity. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, your mind racing to assess the situation. Revealing your true identity isn't an option—not now, not like this. You adjust your stance, preparing yourself mentally for whatever comes next, but Damian's presence in front of you is a steadying comfort.

“She’s with me,” Damian states firmly. “That’s all you need to know.”

But Bruce isn’t swayed. He takes another step forward, his towering form casting a long, ominous shadow over both of you. The authority he exudes is almost suffocating, a force that demands obedience and submission. 

Bruce’s voice drops to a near growl, heavy with warning. “You’re making a mistake.”

Damian doesn’t waver, his stance firm, his resolve unshaken. “Maybe I am. But it’s my mistake to make. I’m not moving. Not until you understand—”

“Understand what?” Bruce’s voice, though controlled, cracks with an edge of hurt. “That you’re risking everything for—” His words catch in his throat, and his eyes, now seething, lock onto you with anger. The unspoken words hang in the air, heavy and accusing, as if he’s struggling to comprehend how Damian could make such a choice. 

“Father,” Damian tries again. “Just listen, please. I’m not—”

But Bruce cuts him off sharply. “I don’t want to hear it, Robin. Stand down. Now.”

Damian grits his teeth, his jaw clenching at the command. “I won’t. You want me to move, you're going to have to make me.”

Bruce growls and his posture shifts, his body tensing as he readies himself for combat, cape swirling with a sudden, sharp movement, the dark fabric creating a menacing silhouette against the night sky. Damian rolls his shoulders.

The silent acknowledgment of the fight to come is all that’s needed. 

The first move comes fast and brutal—a sweeping kick aimed at Damian’s legs. Damian barely manages to sidestep, but the force of the attack sends him stumbling slightly.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Bruce presses his advantage. He lunges forward, delivering a powerful punch to Damian’s jaw. The blow connects with a sickening thud, causing Damian to gasp and stagger backward. He tries to recover, swinging a fist toward his father, but Bruce is already moving, effortlessly deflecting the strike and countering with a sharp elbow to Damian’s ribs.

Before Damian can recover, Bruce is on him again. He grabs Damian by the collar and delivers a powerful knee to his abdomen. The impact sends Damian sprawling, crashing hard onto the rooftop. The concrete shudders beneath him, and he struggles to get to his feet, gasping for breath.

“You’ve forced my hand. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to,” Bruce seethes as he advances. His fists come down in a series of blows, each strike aimed at disabling rather than harming. Damian blocks and dodges where he can, but Bruce's assault is relentless, each hit pushing him further back.

THWIP

A web snares Bruce’s arm, halting his advance. His head swivels toward you, confusion and fury flashing in his eyes beneath the cowl. He struggles against the webbing, but you seize the opportunity to yank him off Damian, pulling him forcefully to the side of the rooftop. The webbing binds him tightly against the edge, restricting his movements.

Without wasting a second, you rush to Damian’s side. His breathing is ragged, masked cracked. blood runs down his lip You kneel beside him, gently pulling him up against you. Your arms wrap around him, providing a protective, comforting embrace.

“Baby, are you okay?” you ask urgently, voice trembling with fear.

Damian rasps out a laugh, his grin weak but defiant. “At least I know he’ll do the right thing if I ever do you wrong.”

SHLICK.

You look up to see Bruce cutting through your webbing with a knife. The webbing disintegrates under the assault, and you curse under your breath. Without your web-shooters, your organic webs are noticeably weaker—a reminder that you'd need to ask Morgan for new ones as soon as possible.

Bruce continued his advance, his gaze fixed on you this time.

You raised a hand, trying to signal a truce, your voice shaky but earnest. “I... I don’t want to fight,” you said, the exhaustion evident in every word. 

“Then take off the mask,” Bruce commanded, his voice cutting through the air with a harsh edge, leaving no room for negotiation.

The demand hung between you, making your heart pound louder. You took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. Slowly, you lifted a trembling hand toward your mask, fingers grasping the edge.

But before you could fully uncover your face, Damian's hand shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking it away.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses, eyes flashing with desperation. He turns to Bruce, getting back onto his feet.

“Don’t come any closer,” Damian warns as he unsheathes his katana, its blade glinting menacingly in the dim light. “I have the utmost respect for you, Father, but if you take one more step, I will have to engage you properly this time.”

Despite the weight of your decision, there’s no other choice. Your sole aim is to end this confrontation swiftly and with as little harm as possible.

With a sharp breath, you square your shoulders and raise your head.

“Nobody’s going to do anything,” you say firmly as you start to tear off your mask. The fabric pulls away slowly, the cool night air brushing against your exposed skin.

As the mask comes free, you are left bare to the elements, your face now fully visible under the moonlight. You hold Bruce's gaze directly, hoping that this gesture will be enough to de-escalate the standoff.

"It's just me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

ruh oh

mmmmmmmm yes 3-4 chapters left

[springtyme]

Hi spring! I really love your 141 baby fics, especially the soap ones. for your autumn challnege can you write reader telling soap that she is pregnant ? pretty please🥺

𝐀 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 ♡

John "Soap" MacTavish x reader || Main Masterlist || Spotify

summary: After a month apart, you can finally tell Johnny the secret you've waited to reveal.

word count: 1.3k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟖) 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

You lie curled up in the soft warmth of your blankets, the gentle autumn sunlight streaming through the curtains. You dwell in the faint sound of breathing beside you—steady and deep. It’s calm and comforting, a sound you have missed so much. Johnny had returned home last night after a month-long deployment, and you still can’t quite believe he’s finally back, in your cosy little bedroom, right here next to you. 

As the dim light dances across his face, you take a moment to admire him. The shadow of his stubbles outlines his strong jaw, and you can’t help but trace the line with your fingers, careful not to wake him. His features have softened in slumber, though even in sleep, there’s a distinct aura of strength about him. A sense of joy swells in your heart, and you lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him—warmth mixed with a hint of clean soap and something uniquely Johnny.

But despite the content, happiness blooming within you, your mind is racing with thoughts you can hardly contain. A life altering revelation you’ve kept for weeks, a hidden truth that has grown heavier with each passing day. You can almost feel it pulsing beneath the surface, begging for release.

You have spent countless nights these past weeks imagining what it would be like to share the news with him, but now that the moment is finally here, your heart races. You can hardly believe that just two weeks ago, you had taken that little white stick from the chemist, waited under anxious breaths for it to change, and when those two lines appeared—joy flooded through you like a tidal wave. You are pregnant.

As you listen to Johnny’s rhythmic breathing, you bite your lip, torn between letting him sleep peacefully and the burning desire to spill your secret, to share this monumental news that will forever change both of your lives. You know how much he wants this, and the thought of his reaction fills you with excitement and nerves in equal measure. In this moment you regret not having told him last night, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him right after he’d come back home, to give him a chance to reacclimate and enjoy the sweetness of being back home, yet the weight of the truth feels unbearable under the tenderness of this moment.

You carefully push yourself up onto one elbow, leaning in closer to him. You brush a strand of hair from his forehead and plant a gentle kiss there, hoping to rouse him from his dreams. His eyes flutter open, their deep blue locking onto yours. There’s a short moment of groggy confusion, followed by blissful clarity, a slow smile breaking across his face as he takes in your tender gaze. He pulls you closer in his embrace, almost instinctive, as if anchoring both of you in this fleeting moment.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his deep voice thick with sleep. There’s an undeniable warmth in his gaze, the way the blue of his eyes brightens as they sweep over your face.

“Hey,” you reply, your heart racing as you lean in to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “Welcome home,” you whisper into his mouth before pulling back. 

“God, I missed you,” Johnny breathes, his voice still husky with sleep. He pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. You can see him trying to read the emotions swirling in your gaze, and it makes the weight of your secret even heavier.

“I missed you too,” you say softly, brushing your fingers along his jawline again, wanting to memorise every minute detail of his face after being apart. 

“Did I really sleep through the night with you next to me?”

You chuckle softly, nodding. “Yeah, you did. I think you were pretty tired.”

Johnny stretches, his muscles taut under your fingertips. He sighs contentedly and shifts his weight, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you more closely. You can see in his eyes that he has noticed the tension beneath your calm demeanour. The way he studies you makes your heartbeat quicken; his gaze is unwavering, filled with a mix of love and curiosity. “What’s going on in that bonnie head of yours?” he asks, his brow slightly furrowing with a mix of curiosity and concern as he studies your expression.

You chew your lip, the moment of truth dawning on you like the sunlight spilling into the room. “I have something important to tell you,” you say, your voice steady despite the thud of your heart.

He tilts his head, eyes glinting with curiosity and apprehension. “You’re scaring me a little now,” he admits, a playful smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “You know I’d take on the world to protect you, right?”

The sincerity in his tone makes your resolve strengthen, and you smile softly back at him. “I know, and that’s why I’m so excited to tell you.” You take a deep breath, steeling yourself, and let your hand cradle the side of his face for assurance. “I’m pregnant.”

The words hang in the air, swirling around you like a gentle breeze, and for a moment, silence envelops you both. You watch as his expression shifts from surprise to a grin that splits his face wide open, his eyes sparkling with an emotion you can barely decipher.

“Are you serious?” he breathes, almost as though he’s afraid to believe it.

You nod, biting your lip to suppress your own excitement. “I took a test two weeks ago… and then a few more after that to be sure. I wanted to wait to tell you in person.”

He sits up fully now, something electric weaving through his features. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm, your voice steady and filled with warmth as you find your grounding in the gravity of the moment.

In an instant, the surprise morphs into pure elation. Johnny’s smile widens, his eyes shimmering with light, and he lets out a breathy laugh that resonates through the space between you, bright and rich, a sound filled with joy and disbelief all at once. “Love, you’re really serious?!” His hands find your waist, pulling you closer as he inspects your face for any sign of jest. The sincerity in your eyes reassures him that this is no joke. “I cannae believe it! This is—this is pure brilliant! He wraps his strong arms around you, lifting you off the bed, making you squeal with a mix of surprise and joy, and spins you around in a joyous whirl, as you laugh along with him, both of you lost in the sheer magic of the moment.

When he finally sets you back down, he holds you tightly, his face buried in your neck, and you can feel the tremor of his excitement in the way he hugs you. 

“We’re having a wean,” he breathes, and there’s an awe in his voice that sends shivers down your spine. You can hear how much this means to him, to you both, and it ignites a fire of hope and dreams that you carefully begin to weave together with him.

“We are,” you reply softly, a smile breaking across your face as his words wash over you like a soothing balm. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, and everything beyond your embrace fades into oblivion. “I know we have talked about it, but I never imagined it would happen so soon,” you admit.

Johnny pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes alight with wonder. “Do you know how far along you are?” he asks, a mix of concern and excitement lacing his tone.

“About seven or eight weeks,” you reply, the reality of the timeline settling in, although it feels strangely surreal. “I was going to schedule an appointment for that first ultrasound, but I wanted to wait till you got home.”

A blend of awe and protectiveness washes over Johnny’s face as he absorbs the news. “Aye, we’ll make the appointments together, figure everything out. You, me, and our wee one.”

[maikissed]

a secret sweetheart

jude bellingham x reader

summary: an unexpected article containing an appaling gossip is out. everybody wants to know who Jude's secret sweetheart is... warnings: none, maybe some misspells, I'm sorry, I'm writing like crazy to release some stress as of late...

You jumped up on you seat as soon as your eyes landed on the article. Your mouth wide open, you were hurriedly eyeing the words written in the most outrageous and presumptive manner. And the pictures too, how was it that the moment captured by lenses of a camera was showing such inconsistent image? Giving off the impression that everything described below might most likely be real. Your eyes turning wider and wider with every read word, you turned restless in a span of a second. You huffed analysing the photos, your lip nervously placed between your teeth, you were fuming. It perfectly presented your wide smile, little summer dress on you, his hand placed on your hip, he was looking down at you, his eyes engrossed in something you might have had said seconds before the picture was taken, delicate, tender smile upon his lips. It was indeed sending some kind of message. And you were furious.

“Jude” you called after energetically entering the living room.

His eyes shot up from his phone, he eyed you curiously.

“Have you seen this?” you approached him quickly, the screen of your phone practically in his nose.

He groaned, grabbing your wrist to steady your hand and fleetingly eyed the article. Not even giving it a proper attention. He didn’t seem bothered at all, your eyes widened at his reaction, or lack of it, truth be told.

“What about it?” he asked nonchalantly in a calm voice.

“What about it?! Can you see what it says?!” you screeched, feeling almost hysterical.

“I can see they called you stunning” he beamed at you, relaxing on the sofa.

“Jude!” you almost yelled “The whole world now believes that I am your secret sweetheart!” you accented the last two words using your fingers to present the quote gesture; these were in fact words used in the material.

He opened his mouth to comment on that, but you silenced him angrily with a quick flick of your hand and started to read:

“Now we can say that it is kind of unexpected turn of events for us. Jude Bellingham, an English professional footballer who plays as a midfielder for spanish La Liga club Real Madrid and the England national team, finally presented his secret sweetheart! Not yet spotted accompanied by any lady, despite many rumours of dating the prettiest lot of models and famous influencers, was seen strolling the streets of California with an… unknown beauty. We must say she is stunning, true pleasure to the eyes. And we are surprised, we’ve been hearing so much about his latest infatuation with the Dutch model, Laura Celia Valk” you could hear him scoff but you did not avert your gaze from the article, raising your voice to make sure he won’t interrupt you “But there weren’t any unveiled revelations about their relationship and now we can openly say – multimillionaire star has his eyes and attention somewhere else. And his eyes are full of adoration! We have it all on pictures! Just take a look and tell us this is not the most enjoyable view of a young love blossoming between these two. Why all this secrecy, Jude? Scream, shout and show your happiness to the whole world! We’re waiting for some more sweet content from these two!”

Your cheeks heated, your chest rising and falling in exasperation. You looked at him expectantly. You could see he was fighting a smile, the corner of his lip rising in a smirk. He was amused, you were vexed and anxious.

“When will all this shite with Laura end?” he frowned and you grabbed the nearest pillow placed beside him to throw it in his direction.

“It ends now because the whole of Internet will blow out with these pictures!”

“Wait a second, let me call them and tell them to delete it this instant. What was the name of the site again?” he leaned to grab the phone from you but you swiftly yanked your hand up.

“Be serious” you growled.

“We were on vacation, they were smart and took the pictures. It’s how media and paps work, there’s not much we could do” he shrugged, still way too calm about this for your liking.

At some point you were prepared that the ongoing, growing interest in his persona would make him more vulnerable and seen, followed. You knew people were very much interested in private lives of stars, especially the rising ones that were the hottest subject around, but you hoped that none of such assumptions would be brought regarding the relations between you two. It was a threat for your own life, your privacy. You feared the repercussions, yet somehow you turned a blind eye. And there you had the consequences. Right in your hand.

“What happens if Kit sees these?” you murmured looking away from your friend.

“Is he that insecure?” he mocked, but you didn’t answer him, your gaze timid and withdrawn as you looked at him briefly “What is it? You didn’t tell him who you’re friends with?” he asked in a simple voice, you stayed silent and a second after you could hear him let out an amused gasp “Ooh, were you keeping me secret, sweets?”

You sharply turned your head to spot a cheeky grin painted on his face. You started to look for that pillow once more.

“Why would I bring up the subject of Mister Jude Bellingham so soon? It’s very fresh, he’d probably end up pining over you” you spat, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Is your choice in men that poor?” he chuckled.

“Don’t be rude” you fought “Like your choice in girls is most tasteful”

“From that appealing article I’d say it is”

Your hands fell down your body and you squinted your eyes at him, agitated by his unmoved attitude and ignorance.

“You will not use me for your good press!” you hissed turning around with intention to leave the room, but Jude quickly grasped your hand before you stormed off.

“That’s not what I meant, y/n” his voice calm and gentle when he pulled you closer to where he was seated.

You stood between his knees, upset and worried, your head down.

“Come here” he murmured making more room for you to sit beside him.

Many thoughts kept raging through your brain. You’ve been thoughtless and silly, hoping that your lives would stay easy and uncomplicated no matter the odds. There was worry blooming inside you, but not exactly about your own self, your own private life; you worried such events would made you both have to choose. Choose to be close, or choose to finally part. You were fearful.

“What’s on your mind now?” he whispered, gently nudging your side.

“How can we be friends amongst all this?” you asked turning your head to look at him.

He had the extraordinary ability to calm your nerves with a soft blink of his eyes, delicate, reassuring smile and tenderness seeping into his gaze as he looked at you. You held it in highest regard, the fact that he always was your safe haven. It should worry you, it did sometimes, but you relished in it still.

“Oh no, don’t start with it” he whined with a funny look on his face “I’m not breaking up with you because of some gossips”

You snorted at his reaction.

“How will I be able to date if any man I meet would most likely compare himself to you?”

The sarcastic question made him laugh loudly and you slapped him briefly on the arm, feeling abashed. How infuriating this boy could be.

“Too bad for them” he shrugged “You can date me then, everybody thinks you already are” that added sentence making you scoff.

“Fuck you” you retorted.

“Sure, why not, we could start with that to break the ice”

“Jude!” you gasped in protest, adding a frustrated groan at his flippancy, trying to stand up from the sofa, but he was quick to snatch you back into his arms.

Your life would most likely complicate much more as long as he was present in it.

[punkshort]

Hi! I would be more than happy with a drabble about reader regaining a memory-maybe an important one for her and joel-but if this doesn't really inspire you, please don't feel obligated to write it, as I wouldn't want you to struggle because of me

After all, I'm more than happy to read anything else you decide to write!❤️

PS roommates is so so good, I'm looking forward to the next chapter!

Ahh thank you so much! I'm so glad you answered, I have no problem putting on my thinking cap for this! I think we could all use a little fluff today... I hope you enjoy! And thank you again for all your support the past year ❤️

three words

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You remember another memory, this one more special than the rest.

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, amnesia

WC: 1.2K

"It's getting late," you mumbled, your eyes closed as you breathed deeply into Joel's chest. The very last thing you wanted to do was get dressed and go home, but you had patrol early in the morning and you didn't trust yourself to wake up early enough to go home and clean up beforehand.

You felt his chest vibrate as he hummed, his hand dragging lazily up and down your bare back, holding you close and just as unwilling to let you go.

"Stay."

You groaned but buried your face deeper, now angling it towards his flushed neck. "I don't have any clothes here."

"Then maybe you should keep some clothes here."

"I could, but that doesn't help me now."

Joel sighed and turned onto his side, tugging you into him, molding you to him and filling every crack and splinter the world left before you. "Wear my clothes."

You laughed softly, the image of Joel's flannel hanging five inches past your fingertips as you struggled to ride in his oversized clothes just too amusing.

"As much as I appreciate the offer," you began as you pulled away, meeting some resistance from his arms, "I don't think that would work."

He groaned and rolled onto his back, the longing evident in his eyes as you slowly stood and stretched, your naked body pulling and bending before seeking out your clothes strewn about his room.

"Move in with me."

You stood abruptly, your jeans and socks tucked protectively against your chest as you stared back at him in shock.

"What?"

He sat up in bed and flicked on his lamp. "Move in with me," he repeated. Your eyes trailed down his broad chest, evidence of the love bites you left on him a mere hour earlier already darkening.

"Oh-" you croaked, feeling your face flare with heat. To hide it, you looked back down at the ground to find the rest of your clothes. "Uh, don't you think that's a little fast?"

"No," he answered, watching as you struggled to pull your underwear back on. "I love you 'n I want you here all the time."

You were in the process of pulling your bra strap over your shoulder when his words reached your ears, knocking into you so hard you forgot to breathe. "W-what did you just say?" you whispered, hand frozen on your shoulder, eyes wide and filled with bewilderment.

He shrugged one shoulder and gave you a little smirk. "I love you."

Your lower lip trembled and you dropped your jeans to the floor. "I love you, too," you said softly.

His eyes lit up and his smile grew wider. "Then quit standin' over there 'n get back in bed with me."

You giggled and hastily swiped away a tear that fell before scrambling back into bed, allowing him to tug the comforter over you as you wrapped your arms around his middle. He cupped your jaw and scanned your face once more before pressing a tender kiss to your lips, so soft and sweet that it stole your breath.

"Maybe I'll just end up being sick tomorrow morning," you murmured against his mouth, dragging your lips down his throat and nipping playfully at his Adam's apple. He rolled on top of you, holding himself up on his elbows. He closed his eyes and sighed, reveling in the feel of your skin pressed against his.

"Yeah, that -" he paused and gasped when you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, grinding into him as your kisses on his neck grew feverish. "That sounds 'bout right."

-

You awoke with a start, eyes flashing wide open as you stared at the white ceiling, replaying the dream over and over in your mind. Was it a dream? Or was it real? It felt real. You were getting better at distinguishing between the two now.

Rolling your head to the side, you smiled when you saw Joel sleeping so peacefully beside you. His lips were parted and he was snoring softly, looking perfectly content. You almost didn't want to wake him, but you knew it would be worth it.

"Joel," you whispered, pulling the sheet against your neck. You rolled onto your side and ran your palm across the sharp planes of his chest. He mumbled in his sleep and his hand slowly came up to engulf yours, his fingers big and thick and calloused compared to your own. You repeated his name a little louder this time and he finally cracked one eye open.

"Mornin'," he said, voice gravelly and thick with sleep. Every time you heard it, it made your lower abdomen pull and a familiar warmth spread between your thighs.

"I had a dream," you told him, excitement bubbling up as you bit down on your lower lip. His eyes opened wider and suddenly he looked much more alert.

"A dream or a memory?"

"Memory, I think."

He grinned and sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What was it?"

You stretched, a slow smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. "I think it was when we first said I love you."

He grinned and scratched his chin. "That's a good one."

"I was getting ready to go back home because I had patrol in the morning," you began, and he nodded along. "You told me you wanted me to move in because you loved me. You said it so casually, like it was obvious or something."

"Thought it was obvious," he chuckled.

"It felt like I already knew but I was still surprised to hear you say it."

He gazed down at you warmly. "Then you said it back."

"Yeah," you whispered, threading your fingers with his. "I said it back."

"That was a good day," he told you before leaning forward, gently brushing your lips together.

"So it was real?"

"Yeah," he whispered, then slowly slanted his mouth against yours, his lips leisurely massaging your lips like he had all the time in the world. You took a deep breath and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close.

It had been a while since you had a memory come back, but it felt like each time it happened, no matter how big or small, it felt clearer.

"Do you think this means I'll remember everything one day?" you couldn't help but ask as he settled between your legs, his mouth dragging down your chin.

"Don't know, baby," he admitted, his focus clearly shifting towards something else as his hands began to push up the material of your sleep shirt.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you anxiously chewed the inside of your cheek. "If I don't, that would be okay, right?" you asked, your voice coming out so timid and small that it made him stop in his tracks. He pushed himself up onto his forearms so he could look you in the eye.

"'Course it would."

You nodded and felt a sliver of relief, but he could tell you still held some doubt.

"Hey," he said gently, "it don't matter if you remember everythin'. 'Cause we'll make new memories together, alright?"

You smiled and he watched you visibly relax, your shoulders dropping back and your brow smoothing out. "Yeah."

He grinned and pecked your lips before picking up where he left off on the crook of your neck.

"Good. 'Cause I wanna make a new memory right now."