#but I feel like when it's about his partner

[rafecameronssl4t]

I enjoyed reading your rafe fics of love island and I was wondering if you could write one where reader and rafe are coupled up but he went to casa amor. Rafe started getting close to another girl and ended up kissing her. The reader saw a video of what happened in casa amor and she’s all sad and heartbroken. When it comes to the re coupling, the reader stays single while rafe brings back the girl to the villa. It’s sad but also a happy ending? I understand if you don’t want to write it!! I’ve been watching season 6 of love island USA and now I want to read sad fics lol

Oscar Winning Tears || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader love island au

A/n: sorry bb this isn't a happy ending but I might end up writing a part 2????

Warnings: angst!!!! justice for my girl, it hurt me writing this :(

Word count: 1,905

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

Divider by @h-aewo

The firepit crackled softly, its warmth doing little to ease the icy weight in your chest. You stood among the other girls, the glow of the villa lights illuminating your tense expression. Casa Amor was over. This was the moment that would decide everything. The whispers around you were nervous, expectant. Some girls were murmuring about their hopes, clutching onto the chance that their boys had stayed loyal.

You barely heard them. Your mind was consumed by a single image: Rafe’s lips on another girl’s. That damn video. It had been quick—a montage of clips sent to the main villa to stir the pot. It worked. You’d seen him laughing with her, their bodies closer than they should’ve been, the playful touches that turned into something more. And then the kiss.

You’d felt your stomach drop as the girls gasped around you, some trying to reassure you while others exchanged worried glances. But you didn’t cry then, and you wouldn’t cry now. You refused to give anyone, especially him, that power. Your stomach churned just thinking about it, but you refused to let anyone see how much it hurt.

Sophie's voice broke through the tense silence. "Ladies, the boys are on their way back. Please stand by the firepit." You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stand tall, even as your legs felt like jelly. Your palms were sweaty, and you discreetly wiped them on your dress, hoping to mask the anxiety clawing at your composure.

The first footsteps echoed from the path. A single pair. One of the girls next to you exhaled a shaky sigh of relief as her partner walked in alone, grinning sheepishly. Another boy followed, also alone. The tension was unbearable. Then, you heard it. Two sets of footsteps. Your breath hitched. A bitter chuckle escaped your lips before you could stop it, soft but sharp, enough to make the girls around you glance your way.

You didn’t look at them. Your eyes were fixed on the pathway, your heart sinking deeper with each passing second. You’d been prepared for this, or at least you told yourself you were. But nothing could really prepare you for the sight of Rafe walking toward the firepit with another girl on his arm. And then you saw him.

He walked in, his hand lightly resting on the arm of another girl. He didn't meet your eyes. His head was low, his expression unreadable. If you didn’t know him so well, you might have missed the subtle signs of guilt: the tightness in his jaw, the way his hand fidgeted at his side, the occasional glance toward you that he quickly averted.

The murmurs from the other islanders grew louder as they registered the scene. You could feel their eyes darting between you and Rafe, their pity and shock palpable. When he reached his spot across from you, Sophie turned to you with a sympathetic smile. "Y/n," she began gently, her voice laced with concern, "how are you feeling, darling?"

You let out a dry laugh, the sound bitter even to your own ears. "How am I feeling?" you repeated, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. You took a moment to compose yourself, sucking in a deep breath before continuing. "I’m not surprised. I expected it." Everyone at the firepit watched silently.

"I saw the video," you added, your tone flat but sharp, like the edge of a knife. That did it. Rafe’s head snapped up, his blue eyes wide with shock. Guilt was written all over his face. He opened his mouth, but you weren’t done. "Y/n—" he started, but you raised a hand to cut him off. "Don’t," you interrupt, your voice breaking slightly. You looked up at the sky, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay.

You refused to cry—not in front of everyone, not in front of him, and certainly not in front of her. The girl at his side, her hand still loosely resting on his arm, spoke up. "It’s Love Island, babe. You gotta do what you gotta do," she shrugs. Her voice was light, almost dismissive, as if her words weren’t twisting the knife already buried in your chest.

Your head snapped toward her, and for the first time that night, anger flared in your eyes. "You’ve literally been here five minutes," you snapped, your voice sharp and cutting. "Don’t tell me what Love Island is about." Her confidence faltered, and she blinked taken aback by your tone, but you didn’t give her the chance to respond. Your attention shifted back to Rafe.

The anger in your chest burned hotter now, but beneath it was a raw, aching hurt that threatened to consume you. You forced a bitter smile onto your face. "I hope you’re happy with your decision, Rafe. I really do. I hope you don’t regret it." The firepit was silent except for the crackling of the flames. The other islanders shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

Some of the girls moved closer to you, murmuring quiet words of comfort that barely registered. Rafe looked like he wanted to say something, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out. He looked down again, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. Straightening your spine, you turned away from him, heading back to your spot with the girls.

Your heart felt like it was shattering, pieces of it breaking off with every step, but you kept your head high. The tears still threatened to fall, but you blinked them back, refusing to give him—or anyone—the satisfaction of seeing you cry. This was Love Island, and you’d play the game. But this time, you’d play it for yourself.

~

The recoupling ceremony ended in a blur. The moment Sophie dismissed everyone, you were the first to stand, your legs moving on autopilot as you stormed off. The heels of your shoes clicked sharply against the wooden planks, the sound punctuating each shaky breath you took. Behind you, the murmurs began—low and uncertain—as the other girls watched you retreat.

It wasn’t long before they followed, one by one, a show of solidarity that left the Casa Amor girls awkwardly planted in their seats. You held your head high as you walked away, desperate to maintain the last shred of composure you had left.

Rafe sat frozen at the firepit, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, the tension radiating like a storm about to break. His jaw clenched as he stared down at the ground, guilt eating away at him like poison. “Mate, what the fuck were you thinking?” one of the boys muttered, breaking the silence.

Another chimed in, leaning forward to fix him with a sharp glare. “She stayed loyal to you. You had the real deal, and you blew it for… what? A bit of fun?” Rafe swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t even look up. Beside him, the girl from Casa Amor shifted uncomfortably, her confidence waning as the tension mounted.

“Seriously, Rafe,” one of the others said, his voice lower but no less disappointed. “She deserved better than this. You know that, right?” The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, but he stayed silent, his guilt too overwhelming to let him respond. He risked a glance toward the path you’d disappeared down, but the sight only made his stomach churn.

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, unstoppable, hot streams burning down your cheeks. Your chest felt tight, suffocating, as if your heart was collapsing in on itself. You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, trying to steady your breathing, but it was no use. Sobs wracked your body, and you stumbled slightly, leaning against a railing for support.

Despite your efforts to escape, you were still within view of the firepit. You hated that they could see you like this—breaking apart, vulnerable, destroyed. The girls were by your side in an instant, Sofia’s arm wrapping securely around your shoulders. “It’s okay, we’ve got you. Let’s get you out of here, okay? Away from everyone,” she murmured softly, her voice low and comforting as the others circled around you protectively.

You nodded mutely, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. They guided you to one of the outdoor lounges, the soft cushions offering little comfort as you collapsed onto them. Sofia sat beside you, pulling you into her arms as the others hovered close, their faces etched with concern. You buried your face in Sofia’s shoulder, gripping her tightly as sobs tore through you.

It all spilled out—the heartbreak, the anger, the betrayal. “I can’t do this,” you gasped, the words spilling out between sobs. “I fucking can’t do this.” The raw pain in your words made the girls exchange worried glances, their sympathy etched in their faces. “I stayed loyal to him,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I stayed loyal, and he…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence.

The memory of him walking in with her was enough to shatter you all over again. “He’s a fucking idiot,” one of the girls said fiercely, her voice cutting through the haze of your pain. “You gave him everything, and he didn’t deserve any of it.” Sofia wiped your tears. "You did everything right. This isn’t on you." Her words only made it worse.

You had stayed loyal. You’d turned away from every temptation in Casa Amor, reminding yourself over and over that Rafe was waiting for you, that he was worth it. You’d trusted him to do the same. But he hadn’t. “But why?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why wasn’t I enough?” The question hung in the air, unanswered, as your sobs filled the silence.

Sofia tightened her hold on you, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tried to comfort you. "I gave him everything," you choked out between sobs, your voice breaking. "And he just… he didn’t care. He didn’t even think about me." The girls murmured quiet reassurances, their hands resting on your back, your arms, wherever they could offer comfort.

But nothing they said could touch the aching void inside you, the gaping wound left by his betrayal. Your heart ached, a dull, throbbing pain that radiated through every inch of your body. The memory of Rafe walking in with her—his arm around her, his guilty eyes refusing to meet yours—was seared into your mind. For the first time, you truly doubted if you could keep going.

Back at the firepit, Rafe’s guilt was palpable. He finally glanced up, only to see the other boys still staring at him with varying degrees of disappointment and disbelief. “You fucked up, man,” one of them said bluntly. “Big time.” Rafe didn’t argue. He didn’t try to explain. What could he say? That he’d been tempted, that he’d let his guard down, that he’d convinced himself it was harmless until it wasn’t? None of it mattered now.

The damage was done. His gaze shifted to the path again, and for a fleeting moment, he thought about going after you. But when he saw the other girls walking back toward the villa, their arms around you like a protective wall, he knew he’d lost any right to comfort you. You were gone. And it was entirely his fault.

[reignpage]

this idea’s been done to death but jjk men: ass or tits?

alt sfw vers for the jjk boys (and men if you can/want): kisses or cuddles

Ass or tits

Gojo: ass

he isn't very strict on it tbh it's more whatever his partner has better but he does like the way they move... will pull his blindfold up to get a good look

Geto: tits

he likes nipple play sigh he thinks they're pretty likes leaving hickeys on them

Choso: TITS

loves to suck on them loves to lay his head between and omg when he first tried a titjob, he came so hard and so quickly but wouldn't stop and ended up overstimulating himself

Toji: ass

that's just obvious loves to spank them when he's walking by he grips your ass when you're out and about he pats your ass so often you actually get concerned when he doesn't loves to see them jiggle in doggy too

Nanami: tits

Like Gojo, not very strict Man goes wild at the sight of your ankles he's THAT in love But he thinks tits are so indecent, seeing your cleavage in a tight or low top makes him blush and gulp and feel so much guilt he has to palm himself

Sukuna: ass

He's seen too many tits to care, women would use their cleavages as weapons back in his day But in the modern day, with the popular use of short shorts omg Sukuna is going crazy Loves to see that pudge from the tightness of the shorts Bites them too

I hope everyone understands why I won't put the jjk boys here

[custardkittyyy]

(NOTE: this particular ask is for when Leon and Diane are grown up, not teenagers or anything. Although some of the lighter asks of this post may apply across all ages, some more adult topics do not.) Is your OC romantic in the traditional sense? Do they enjoy giving or receiving gifts of flowers or confectionary? Or are there other courtship traditions from their culture of origin that are important to them? Leon is not romantic in the traditional sense. If he is/ever was, it's because he tailored his romance to what Diane most positively responded to. He has no framework of what true romantic actions are beside maybe innocent physical contact.

How important is sex to them in a relationship? Do they see it as something essential to their happiness? Would they be able to remain in a monogamous relationship with someone they loved without sex? I don't think Leon would be that down bad. What he's looking for the most is an emotional connection. That's what he's been after his whole life. He would be perfectly happy in a monogamous relationship with Diane with or without that level of physical intimacy.

How do they feel about public displays of romantic affection? Does it make them uncomfortable? How do they feel if a romantic partner kisses them in public? Leon hates PDA. Even with Diane, the most he'll do is hold her hand.

Do they believe in love at first sight? Have they ever developed a crush or romantic (or erotic) fixation upon a stranger based on their appearance alone? Unless it's toward Diane, then no.

How closely is their opinion of their own beauty (or lack thereof) linked to their confidence? Do they see themselves as more or less worthy of love or sex based on how attractive they feel? I think that since Leon already doesn't think too highly of himself, that it would bleed into this area of his life too. I think it's less about attractiveness and more of how he is as a person. He may not feel worthy of intimacy with Diane because of

Philia – Affectionate, Platonic Love.

Does your OC have a Best Friend? If they do then how long have they known each other and how did they meet? If they don't then do they have a close group of friends they love equally? Or are they more of a loner? Leon has never really had a 'best friend' outside of Diane. He's known her since they were both tweens, and they met at school for special children with superpowers (or the elite)

Does your OC find it easy to make friends? Or are there barriers to them doing so? If so then are these due to issues of inclination, communication, or something else entirely? Leon finds it hard to make friends with other people because not only is he quiet and 'weird' to other people, but also he doesn't really like other people.

What qualities does your OC most value in a friend? Loyalty? Shared sense of humour? Or something else? He absolutely values loyalty above all things.

Is your OC able to build close friendships with people very different from themselves? Perhaps in terms of culture, age or personality? No. Leon is an outcast in general.

What is their most fervent wish for their best friend(s)? How far would they go to make it happen? He wants Diane to love him. He would go so far to make it happen, even if he sacrificed what little personality he thinks he has.

Storge – Unconditional, Familial Love.

Did your OC's parents love them unconditionally? If so then has this helped them feel confident as an adult? If not then how has this affected them? What were the conditions their family attached to their relationship? Leon's foster parents don't even have a conditional love for him. What he is to them is something to show off; something to say 'look at how we took this poor child in, and turned him into a success'. As an adult, he carries part of this relationship over to his relationship with Diane. He wants to impress her, to make her proud of him. Even if they're already married and he does have her in a sense, he's afraid of losing that love.

Does your OC have children? If so then how fiercely do they love them? If they have more than one then do they love them all equally? If they do not have children then is this part of their future plans? Leon as an adult would have children with Diane. He loves them, yes, but not as much as his wife.

How far does parental approval (imagined or expressed) impact upon their current sense of self-worth? What might they sacrifice or attempt to achieve in order to ensure the approval of their parents?

Does your OC have any siblings? If so then did their parents have a favourite growing up? Has their relationship with their sibling changed in adulthood? If they don't have any siblings then do they perhaps feel they have missed out on an important relationship? Do they have any especially close friends who go some way towards filling that role? He does not have siblings, and he doesn't particularly care.

Ludus – Playful, Flirtatious Love.

Does your OC have any particular favourite chat up lines? If not for themselves then perhaps ones they have suggested to a friend? How effective do these tend to be? N/A, he doesn't know how to flirt.

Is your OC particularly skilled at flirting? Have they had to practice this or does it just happen naturally? Nope ☠️

How does your OC feel about one night stands? Have they ever enjoyed a night of passionate romance with a stranger? Is this something they are quite keen on recreationally? Or only something they might engage in under specific circumstances (such as the eve of a battle or after a difficult breakup)? Leon hates the idea of a one night stand. He wouldn't do it with anybody, but if he were to do that with Diane I think he would just feel empty. Maybe even kind of cheap for doing that. He would feel he had ruined everything and felt shame for going with base instincts.

Who was your OC's first crush? How do they feel about it now? Diane. And he's still obsessed with her.

What seduction techniques are most likely to be effective when it comes to your OC? Are there some things guaranteed to get them going? Or are they immune to such things? I can't think of anything because Diane isn't exactly a master at that stuff either. They would both just have to be frank with each other. Maybe Diane might be better at it (which isn't saying much. Leon is super awkward.)

Pragma – Committed, Long-Lasting Love.

Is your OC in a committed long-term relationship (or relationships)? If so then what has contributed to this relationship lasting so well? If they are not in such a relationship, then is this something that saddens them or which they regret? Depends on the Au. Sometimes he is, sometimes he isn't. When he gets lucky and he is, it's the highlight of his life and the reason why he does anything. When he gets *really* unlucky, he either takes out his anger on other people or takes his grief out on himself.

What is the biggest challenge that your OC has had to overcome in a long-term relationship or friendship? What helped them get through this? N/A

Are your OC's parents still together? To what degree do they look to their own parents as a model for their own ideal relationship? N/A ... (bio parents) his father is dead and he got taken away from his mother.

After the initial fires of passion cool to some degree, what would keep your OC engaged in a relationship? Shared goals? Similar values? Or contented companionship? N/A, he's always on fire.

What importance or value does your OC attach to marriage? Do they believe that it is important to make a public statement of commitment to another person (or persons)? Or are they more concerned about inheritance rights and security for their family? Or do they not see marriage as a necessary signifier of commitment and loyalty? Leon highly values marriage. The idea of becoming physically and spiritually bonded with Diane is something that holds him together as an adult. He would do mostly all he does now even if they weren't married, but then being married gives him an excuse. (I.e. "She's my wife, I have to.")

OC Questions on the Seven Forms of Love.

A little list of OC questions based on the seven types of love identified in Ancient Greek thought. Obviously this is a highly simplified presentation of some quite complex philosophical concepts from Classical History, intended more for the purposes of entertainment than education. I also left out Mania, which is arguably an eighth type of love (Obsessive), because I'm keeping it mostly positive in these tricky times!

Eros – Romantic, Passionate Love.

Is your OC romantic in the traditional sense? Do they enjoy giving or receiving gifts of flowers or confectionary? Or are there other courtship traditions from their culture of origin that are important to them?

How important is sex to them in a relationship? Do they see it as something essential to their happiness? Would they be able to remain in a monogamous relationship with someone they loved without sex?

How do they feel about public displays of romantic affection? Does it make them uncomfortable? How do they feel if a romantic partner kisses them in public?

Do they believe in love at first sight? Have they ever developed a crush or romantic (or erotic) fixation upon a stranger based on their appearance alone?

How closely is their opinion of their own beauty (or lack thereof) linked to their confidence? Do they see themselves as more or less worthy of love or sex based on how attractive they feel?

Philia – Affectionate, Platonic Love.

Does your OC have a Best Friend? If they do then how long have they known each other and how did they meet? If they don't then do they have a close group of friends they love equally? Or are they more of a loner?

Does your OC find it easy to make friends? Or are there barriers to them doing so? If so then are these due to issues of inclination, communication, or something else entirely?

What qualities does your OC most value in a friend? Loyalty? Shared sense of humour? Or something else?

Is your OC able to build close friendships with people very different from themselves? Perhaps in terms of culture, age or personality?

What is their most fervent wish for their best friend(s)? How far would they go to make it happen?

Storge – Unconditional, Familial Love.

Did your OC's parents love them unconditionally? If so then has this helped them feel confident as an adult? If not then how has this affected them? What were the conditions their family attached to their relationship?

Does your OC have children? If so then how fiercely do they love them? If they have more than one then do they love them all equally? If they do not have children then is this part of their future plans?

How far does parental approval (imagined or expressed) impact upon their current sense of self-worth? What might they sacrifice or attempt to achieve in order to ensure the approval of their parents?

Does your OC have any siblings? If so then did their parents have a favourite growing up? Has their relationship with their sibling changed in adulthood? If they don't have any siblings then do they perhaps feel they have missed out on an important relationship? Do they have any especially close friends who go some way towards filling that role?

Is your OC able to love without necessarily needing or expecting reciprocation or reward? Or are all their relationships to some extent transactional? Have they ever loved another person unconditionally, whether a child or another adult?

Agape – Selfless, Universal Love.

Does your OC wish to make the world a better place? How far do they see that as being their responsibility? What lengths would they go to in order to help achieve this?

Does your OC feel a spiritual connection to the world around them? Do they have a particular love for nature or living things?

To what extent does your OC believe in the value (or even existence) of true altruism? Do they see an unselfish concern for the welfare of others as being naïve or foolish? Or as a moral quality to which people should aspire?

Does your OC have a religious faith which emphasises the importance of a love for all people? If so then do they try to follow these teachings authentically? Or do they just pay lip-service to them? If not then do they follow a more martial or mercantile faith? Or none at all?

Does your OC find it easy to empathise with their enemies? Or do they see it as important to dehumanise them in order to combat them with sufficient determination?

Ludus – Playful, Flirtatious Love.

Does your OC have any particular favourite chat up lines? If not for themselves then perhaps ones they have suggested to a friend? How effective do these tend to be?

Is your OC particularly skilled at flirting? Have they had to practice this or does it just happen naturally?

How does your OC feel about one night stands? Have they ever enjoyed a night of passionate romance with a stranger? Is this something they are quite keen on recreationally? Or only something they might engage in under specific circumstances (such as the eve of a battle or after a difficult breakup)?

Who was your OC's first crush? How do they feel about it now?

What seduction techniques are most likely to be effective when it comes to your OC? Are there some things guaranteed to get them going? Or are they immune to such things?

Pragma – Committed, Long-Lasting Love.

Is your OC in a committed long-term relationship (or relationships)? If so then what has contributed to this relationship lasting so well? If they are not in such a relationship, then is this something that saddens them or which they regret?

What is the biggest challenge that your OC has had to overcome in a long-term relationship or friendship? What helped them get through this?

Are your OC's parents still together? To what degree do they look to their own parents as a model for their own ideal relationship?

After the initial fires of passion cool to some degree, what would keep your OC engaged in a relationship? Shared goals? Similar values? Or contented companionship?

What importance or value does your OC attach to marriage? Do they believe that it is important to make a public statement of commitment to another person (or persons)? Or are they more concerned about inheritance rights and security for their family? Or do they not see marriage as a necessary signifier of commitment and loyalty?

Philautia – Self Love.

Does your OC have a healthy sense of their own worth and value? Or do they see themselves as failing to live up to their original potential? Perhaps they are convinced of their own sinful or inadequate nature?

Does your OC believe that it is important to love themselves in the first instance? Perhaps in order to be able to give and receive love authentically? Or because they believe first and foremost in "looking after number one"?

Does your OC judge themselves by the same standards as they apply to others? Or are they sometimes hypocritical in condemning others for faults they also possess? Or perhaps they find it easier to forgive others for things that they cannot abide in themselves?

Which of your OC's qualities makes them the most proud? Do they think more people should be like them in this regard? Or do they quite like being rare in possessing it?

Has your OC always had the same opinion of themselves or has this changed over time? Have they learned to love themselves - perhaps with the help of others - as their journey progressed? Or have the consequences of their actions only served to erode their sense of self-worth?

[milkmily]

I'ma sell my soul to you too if you write more Mr crawling smut 🙏😔

Most likely like... I dunno, him waking us up in the middle of the night for yk what or smth 😔

I got you 😈🙏

Mr. Crawling x Fem Reader SMUT

Typos omg so sorry 😔 also for the first time I make him pull out lol

The room was dark and quiet. The only sound Mr. Crawling could hear your soft breathing and small snores. Sometimes you'd mumble something or groan and change your position on the bed.

He looked at your back, your hair a mess now. He remembered you'd complain about it getting messy and he smiled. He liked nights. Nights where he could simply stare at you while you slept. How peaceful you sounded asleep. He moved his hand to touch your hair. How nice it felt in his hand. It smelled so nice, you smelled nice. He scoots closer to you in the bed and brings his face close to your hair. He sniffed and groaned as he buried his face in your hair. You smelled so nice right now.

He moves his hands to your hips and brings you closer to him. His long hair was probably tangled up already from how much he was moving around trying to get closer and closer to you. Mr. Crawling can't really sleep. He doesn't need sleep but takes naps only with you or when he is bored. So whenever you are asleep, he either wakes you up to some cuddles or wants something else. And right now, he wants to be super close to you, he wants to be inside of you.

Mr. Crawling already knew of how some humans show their love. Kisses, hugs, gift giving, and sex. Sex was at random. You two were in the living room watching some TV. He couldn't really understand what the hell was even going on since he didn't understand a word. But by the hugs, kisses, and hand holding, he knew those two people were together and that they loved each other. He knew all this because he's done that with you and loves you. The couple were getting to the bedroom and started to kiss, hug, suddenly their clothes were off and they were in bed, one on top of the other as weird sounds came from the partner. You quickly turned off the TV and apologized to him.

He saw how nervous and a bit red you were from showing him that. He also found out about it when he found your Manga collection. You had some on your bookshelf. The color of the manga really caught his attention and grabbed it. When he opened it, the first thing he saw Was a couple kissing as the cock of the man pushed inside the woman's cunt. He was puzzled At this yet…he felt funny. He grabbed another one and this one was of two men. He was amazed by these.

Mr. Crawling showed you at the end, wanting To do what the people did in the books and TV. And you two did. Since then, he has been needing to do everything You taught him. To eating your pussy, to you sucking his cock, and fucking you. He loved the feeling and hearing those sweet sounds you'd let out.

Mr crawling moved his hips to your ass, his bones rubbing against your ass. Your smell could only really ever get him hard anytime. He whines and starts to kiss your shoulder up to your neck, sucking and whining. You groan and shuffle your hips close to him as you hug your pillow. You were still asleep, which birthed him. He sighs and pouts as he rubs his bones a bit faster. He moans quietly and bites down on your shoulder.

The bite wakes you up, making you whine. “What?” You ask, your eyes still closed. But Mr. Crawling continues to hump himself on your ass as he had a tight grip on your hips. You didn't hear a response and yawn. That's when you feel him humping you. Your eyes are open and you chuckled. “Mr. Crawling?” You call his name, making him shiver and whine. He licks the spot he had bit and rubs his face in your hair. He pants and whines.

You turned to look at him and smiled. “Do you need help?” You ask him in a sleepy voice he nods as he whines and buried his face in your neck. You smiled and kissed the top of his head. “Okay.” You softly say. He moves his face to look at you and kisses you. You kissed him back as you moaned and moved your hand to his cock. He shivers, whining in the kiss. You smiled and wrapped your hand around his cock, stocking him up and down. He pulled away from the kiss and lifted up your shirt. He pinched your nipple, earning a moan from you.

He cups your breast and sucks on your nipple. You whine and bring your chest close to his face, your other tit needing attention too. With his other hand, he cups and plays with your nipple. He switched to the other needy nipple and brought it to his mouth. You shiver and moan as your hand pumps his cock. You rubbed the tip, making him jump.

You giggled and kissed the top of his head. You rubbed his precum and continued to jerk him off. He whines in your Boob and sucks a bit harder. He couldn't do it anymore, he needed to be inside of you.

____

Your face was pressed on to the pillow, Mr crawling kissing your back as he thrust his hips in and out of you. “Fuck!” Your eyes rolled back as his cock went in and out of you. His hair brushed your back, making you shiver. Mr. Crawling giggles and groans as he thrusted in and out of your pussy. You felt so good, you sounded so beautiful and you smelled so nice.

He looks at your ass as it juggles at every thrust he makes. He holds your hips and harshly thrusted inside, earning a loud moan from you. He hummed and thrusted slowly and suddenly harshly. He smiled as he heard your loud moan. He pulled out of your pussy and made you bring your ass higher. You whine, missing the feeling of his cock inside your throbbing pussy. You moan as you feel his lips kiss your wet and folds. He giggles and licks your cunt. He buried his face in your pussy as he sucked and licked your clit, spreading your folds with his fingers as ge fucked his tounge on your clit. You buried your face into the pillow as you moaned.

He holds your ass with one hand while the other spreads your pussy. He moans and sticks his tongue inside of you, wanting to taste you. You held on to the sheets tightly as you felt his tongue inside of you. It felt so nice, this all felt so nige. Mr. Crawling felt so much love. He loved you so much and he loved making you feel so good. He pulls away and kisses your ass. He makes you turn to look at him and he grins. He pins you on to the bed and rubbed his cock up and down your folds before he pushed himself inside of you again.

You moan and close your eyes. You looked up at him and brought him in for a kiss. “Love- Ah! You!” You moan as he thrusted inside of you. You whine you were close. You brought your hand down to your clit and started to rub it. He held your thighs and pushed them towards you as he thrusted faster. His thrusts start to become faster and sloppy. He's close as well. He is whining at every thrust, feeling your poor pussy squeeze him. You rubbed your clit and threw your head back as you finally came, getting his cock more wet then it already is. He whines and feels how your pussy squeezes him. He thrusted and thrusted the best he could and pulled out quickly, cum shooting out of his cock. He whines and whimpers as he looks down at how his cum reached all the way to your exposed breast.

Mr crawling whines at the sight and holds your hand. “Good?” He asks and you nod as you pant. He smiles and gets off the bed and crawls to the bathroom. He grabs a washCloth and crawls back to the bed. He smiles as he cleans the cum off your stomach and boob. You whine at his touch, your body sensitive. You smiled at him and said, “Thank you.” And kiss him softly. He kisses you back and lays next to you.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Late Bloomer

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Quinn finds out he's your first boyfriend in your mid-20s, you're expecting him to freak out.

Notes: In honour of still being single at 26 nearly 27, for all my late bloomer girlies, you're fine. (I didn't have my first kiss till 24, so you'll be fine, we'll be fine)

"You're my first..."

"What?" It's not that Quinn hasn't heard you, of course he has. Your head is in his lap, he's so close he can hear every breath from you as you lounge together on his couch. It's that he doesn't quite believe it. That this talk of past partners summarily ended with you admitting he was your first, you? How could he be your first when you're the dream for him?

He looks dumbfounded above you and you can't help the embarrassment that floods you, cheeks feeling warm as you scramble out of his lap and towards the other end of the couch. He reaches for you on instinct before you get very far, hand wrapping around your ankle to tug you back lightly.

You're embarrassed by it, mid-twenties and a self confessed late bloomer, your first kiss not long ago and Quinn your first boyfriend. It makes you feel immature, silly. You're prepared for the usual questions; what was wrong with you that you didn't have a partner before him, had you just not been interested or was there some sort of skeleton in your closet that he didn't know about. You only admitted it because he was asking about past partners and you refused to lie to him, couldn't possible lie to him.

"Hey, hey, where you going?" His voice has gone soft, eyes softening at your retreat, like he's calming a skittish animal as he tugs you back to him. You're still keeping some distance, not quite as close as before but not so far either.

"It's weird, isn't it?" You avoid his eyes, arms crossing over yourself protectively.

"No, I'm just surprised, sweetheart..."

"Right...cause it must mean there's something wrong with me, right? Why else would I be in my mid twenties and only just in my first relationship...it's okay, I know it's weird." Every single person who'd ever told you it was weird, questioned your singledom seemed to pop into your head in that moment. Every date who got weirded out by it and ghosted you. Every time your mother suggested that you might just never find someone. Every person that gave you that look of pity then whispered behind your back. In that moment you can't comprehend that Quinn's being genuinely, that he doesn't actually think it's weird or at least not in the way you think.

"Baby," He's laughing at you lightly as ramble out your words, hand pressing under your chin, thumb and forefinger gripping gently to raise your face to meet his eyes. "It's not weird, I mean...okay, it's not weird like that. I just...i'm surprised no one else snatched up before me, y'know?"

You're a little stumped by the way he's smiling at you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he pulls you closer, your legs resting either side of his lap.

"You're just...you're funny," He presses a kiss to your cheek, the scruff he's been growing this season scratches pleasantly as his voice rumbles in a hum of sorts, "kind," a kiss pressed to your forehead, "intelligent, so smart its actually embarrassing for me," a kiss to your other cheek, nose nuzzling just a little before moving on, "brave," the tip of your nose is the target this time, "insanely pretty," your chin gets a peck, ", and completely perfect for me".

His breath hovers over your lips, waiting for your eyes that had closed to reopen before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It's perhaps the sweetest kiss he's ever given you as his hands curl over your hips and a happy rumble escapes his chest like a cat purring.

"You...you mean all that? You're not weirded out by it?" You ask the moment he pulls away, that hesitancy still there. Your desire to not ruin this new, sweet thing you have so very strong. He's all you ever wanted and you don't want to ruin it just because you're inexperienced.

"Baby...i'm actually kind of glad...can I say that? Not to sound like an asshole or anything, but....I like that i'm your first boyfriend, that I get to be that for you." There's this possessive little thing in him that loves it, loves that no other man has made you feel the way he does, that there are so many firsts he gets to share with you, that no other man gets to claim you were his. It's stupid, old fashioned, practically cave man. He knows you're not a trophy, an object, he doesn't think you are...but he also hates the idea that you might have loved someone else.

"You jealous?" You tease, shoulders relaxing as your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He'd been growing it out over the season and you were tempted to pay every barber in the city to refuse to cut his hair.

"Of other guys who might have loved you? Oh, yeah...want you all to myself, forever." His fingers rub circles into your outer thigh, where your sleep shorts have risen. Every other circle interrupted by a random shape or pattern.

"Forever?"

"Forever. If you'll let me?" There's no doubt in his mind that you're it for him. He's been gone from the first moment, all consumed. His life used to be strictly hockey and then you stormed into his life, suddenly he wants to take breaks, hates roadies because he misses you, and looks for a familiar face in the crowd. He could see it, you, him, forever. You, him, a few little kids running around, a couple of cats, a house in the suburbs.

You grin at him, humming as if it's a hard question to answer, something that requires a lot of thinking. "Mmm, I'll think about it,"

Your teasing is cut short by Quinn's fingers finding their way to your ribs, tickling you in your soft spot as you shriek and try to pull away, "Hey! Quinn!", his right arm holds you tight to him, even as you squirm while laughing so hard you worry you might be sick.

"Say it!" He demands, torture not letting up for a single moment even as he grins down at your scrunched up face, at the way you try to squirm away as you laugh.

"Okay, okay!" You finally concede, trying to catch your breath as his fingers still, your arms wrapping tight around his neck, foreheads pressed together. "Forever."

"Good."

He might be your first boyfriend, but he's also pretty certain he might be your last. At least, if he has any say in it.

[ekrixart]

@yallemagne Saw your tags and wanted to say that interpretations that incorporate the sexualities are totally fine! Thanks for being so interested in the game and thank you for asking, I appreciate it- Personally, when writing for Vince his queerness was apart of his character but just wasn't a defining aspect of his arc. I don't mind people shipping them or writing about them being romantic or exploring that at all, I think it's a cool thing that blooms from fandom and exploring those character dynamics are what I find most engaging making the games in the first place. Don't feel anxious to post your thoughts on our games, even in the off-chance its not something I would agree with it's still enlightening to hear peoples interpretations of the stories I work on.

The thing with queerbaiting I wanted to address [spoilers ahead] was specifically people feeling cheated out of an ending where they get together.

I've seen people say that they were expecting a possible ending where Rody and Vince become romantic partners and that it felt like the story was pushing in that direction with the implication that they were queerbaited. I think it's alright to feel upset by an ending of a story and a lot of the criticism towards Dead Plate has been things I think I should take into account with future projects- but to expect an ending where two queer characters ultimately get together purely because the story explores ideas of queerness with the characters doesn't mean you were queerbaited when you didn't get that ending.

Because any ending where Rody and Vince got together wouldn't be indicative of the story we were trying to write. If Rody and Vince were to be romantic with eachother by the end it would undo all of the build up and kind of erase the entire point of their dynamic- Rody's entire issue was that he only knew how to live for others while Vince's issue was that he only knew how to live for himself. Their dynamic allowed each of them to see things from the other perspective, giving Rody the chance to change and grow by living for himself and ultimately punishing Vince due to his inability to change despite wanting to.

But yes- To answer your concern, it's fine to explore different interpretations of the game. I don't want people to be scared off from expressing their feelings on a story because they're worried its not what the authors were going for- Stories arent some secret problem to be solved, theyre an ongoing discussion with the media and the audience. Even with what I've written here I still think if people disagree it's a net positive for them to explore that opinion. And also a discussion on Rodys internalized biphobia contributing to how he treats Vince and Manon sounds sick as hell

edit: I wrote this in like january and realized it was still in my drafts, sorry about that. Currently cleaning out all my asks/drafts so apologies if I start spamming for a bit

Since you confirmed Rody and Vince as both queer, I was wondering: did you write them with the idea of them being queer in your head, or was this an afterthought bc of the fan’s reactions?

Their sexualities were already a part of the characters back in February 2023 long before the game was developed and released. For example Rody being bisexual was always there as a fact as shown in the screenshot below which is from my private discord server where I store character infos/drafts:

Their sexualities weren't brought up in the game because it wasn't relevant to the story + they are characters who just happens to be queer and regardless of their sexuality the events in the game would still happen/remain the same, one doesn't effect the other. Instead of heavily highlighting it we wanted to treat it as another piece of fun fact since their sexualities doesn't define their character/personality.

We will never change or add anything to our characters or narratives just because of fan's reactions or suggestions, we only tell stories we want to tell!

[rocketbaby]

Y'all will never believe what scenario I thought of

Izuku x Katsuki x (fem)reader

Tw: nsfw

Imagine being in a relationship with both izuku and katsuki.

They absolutely adore fucking you(and/or making out)at the same time,y'all always do it when you're all together.

Katsuki was down on his knees after he stripped you naked. Your panties were thrown away somewhere in the room. He got his face closer to your core and he could feel your scent from away. This man was hungry for pussy. He started eating you out like he was starving.

He was always a bit more on the aggressive side even when it comes to sex or making out.He doesn't take his time to just feel,he gets right to action. He eats you out hungrily,not giving you time to think about anything

While on the other, Izuku takes his time with you. While katsuki was eating you out like a mad man,he was right behind you. Your back was leaning against his chest. His mouth found it's way to the back of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin softly.

He always needs to praise you in some way and today wasn't any different.

"mhm you're doing so good,my love, taking Kacchan so well..you just love when he's so desperate for you,don't you, sweetheart?"

His mouth never leaves your skin,he gently grabs your chin and turns your head back so he can kiss you.

"..you're so pretty,baby..so beautiful"

He takes his time to feel you,to assure you're feeling good.

While izuku was kissing you, Katsuki was still eating you out, planning to make you finish before he could move further.

He was moving fast,his tongue sucking and licking wherever it could reach. And in the end he did make you cum,of course. There's honestly never been a time where he DIDN'T make you cum from this.

He absolutely loves giving pleasure even though you may not be able to tell. He loves seeing you feel good from something he had done.

Katsuki is honestly a bit jealous of izuku because he can never praise you or talk to you as sweetly as izuku can

Izuku places a warm soft kiss to the back of your neck. "You did so well baby,you came from just Kacchans mouth.. what a sweet girl you are"

He rubs your hips with care

"mmh..want you to cum f'me also.. please lemme make you feel good..wanna feel you baby"

His hand gently makes its way to your needy cunt. He slides in two fingers right off the bat. You were already wet from cumming before so he didn't need any lubrifiant.

Katsuki loved watching just the both of us having fun,he absolutely adored being included but he couldn't deny that he was getting off from just watching

"God you both are so fuckin hot like this,I have the best partners ever. Looking so fine and fuckable"

Izuku chuckles at his comment,he was always getting a little flustered whenever he'd say stuff like this. Izukus fingers move slowly and gently inside of you, taking his time to find what spot was feeling the best for you and he didn't need you to confirm that he found it. Your voice already gave it away. His fingers made their was so deep into your sweet spot and you let out the prettiest whimper they've heard.

"Fuck she's so fuckin beautiful.. whining and moaning and we didn't even stuffed her with cock yet"

Izuku chuckles again. He didn't want to let his comment get away

"oh shush,don't make me remind you of the time when you came from just me stroking you, like what? Twice?"

[postracehair]

gold rush

max verstappen x reader | 2.4k

max verstappen stands across the room from you at someone else's party. he's not yours, but he could be.

cw: cursing, perhaps overly introspective, allusions to sex, kissing, semi-established relationship without commitment, confessions, being desperately in love with max

a/n: this is a little different from my usual style. i...wrote it in two parts while wine drunk and yearny and listening to gold rush by taylor swift on repeat. it's a lethal combo for a girl, let me tell you. posting in honor of today's qatar win. i really like this one. please be nice to me. <3

--

It's torture.

Standing here across the room, glass in hand, watching.

He just looks so fucking good.

"Fuck me," you mutter. Some deep, animalistic urge tells you to bite clean through the rim of your wine glass. Chew on the shards until they're sand and swallow them easy as anything. It would probably be less painful than what you're currently doing.

Watching.

The object of your scrutiny straightens almost imperceptibly. A minuscule lengthening of his spine invisible to anyone who isn't examining his every move. For someone who is watched more often than not, you're surprised he feels your eyes on him.

But he does.

Max Verstappen turns away from his conversation partner slightly, a barely there shift of his chin to glance around the room. Blue eyes like the fucking ocean or some other cliche you can't think of right now. His focus face, you've called it. That got him to laugh, once, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes driving your heart into a frenzy.

Evaluating, cataloging. Looking for the racing line and finding -- you.

Leaning back on the wall not ten yards from him, wine glass in hand.

You're going to heat it up with your palm holding it like that, he'd told you once. You have to hold the stem.

They teach you that in Monaco? you'd teased.

Flirtations. One of a hundred, a thousand. Nothing memorable for him, you tell yourself. Each conversation an axis-shifting event for you.

It's embarrassing, actually. To want someone this much. To be one of millions.

But you know. You know how he looks in an empty room, how he mutters to himself when he folds his laundry, how he straightens his shoes against the wall of every hotel room.

You know him.

Maybe that's why this is dangerous. You've got ammo, you've got evidence. You know that Max Verstappen is like the rest of the world. A boy who wanted desperately turned into a man who has everything. And still wants.

Is that what binds us all together? The depth of our longing?

Max finds your gaze and holds it. The girl he's talking to -- pretty, smart. You know her peripherally -- keeps speaking, hand not holding her drink waving in the air, eyes focusing somewhere above his hairline.

Lots of people make this mistake. It's all in his eyes, if you can stand to look at them. Everything he's feeling. A challange that, once met, melts into an open door. He'll show you everything if you just step over the threshold, invited or not. Sometimes all we want is someone to bang on the door when we're already in bed. Make us get up, come downstairs. There you are. I was waiting for you.

The eyes tell you everything. You take a long sip of your wine and he watches, jaw ticking. He didn't shave today. The light stubble makes him look older, though you know his heart. Fluttering like a boy's, yearning like a child's. He wants just like you do. If only you knew what and just how much.

I don't know what comes next, he said. His head in your lap, hair soft and golden between your fingers. What else is there?

So much, you said. You traced the line of his nose with the pad of your thumb. That's the best thing about it.

About what?

Life.

There is a world in which you came to this party together. Distant, fuzzy. You mussed his hair with your hands after begging him to leave the gel on the shelf. He kissed off your lipstick before you made it out the door. The steady beat of his heart under your palm in the doorway, a sure reminder of the dip he makes in the universe. Your center, always orbiting around him.

Reality is louder. More crowded, smells like champagne and burnt pastry. It's a room full of people where you can only look at one. Where he's looking back.

You jerk your chin towards the back hallway, the one the leads to the bathroom only the girls go to in pairs. To debrief, to prepare. A secret from the hostess meant for moments of reprieve. At the very least, you'll need one of those.

It you're lucky, one of those will come to you on two legs and stormy eyes.

Could you be imagining it? Wouldn't be the first time you lived in your head a little too long. But -- fuck. The dreams you've had. The way you've looked at your life and slotted him into it. It's almost too easy, a game with no stakes. But the buy in is steep, nonrefundable. How you got here is irrelevant. You have to pay up.

You wind your way through laughing people, velvet dresses and barely buttoned shirts. Sparkly eye shadow and satin bows, well-wishes and chaste kisses. 'Tis the damn season, indeed. 

The hallway is quiet. No one in the bathroom, the door hanging open, light off. You lean back on the wall, glass loose in your fingers. Eyes closed, wondering if you'll wake up somewhere else. Somewhere you want less, somewhere your blood isn't singing, isn't begging you to get closer to him.

"You look nice," Max says. Your lips curve into a smile, a smirk, a grimace. Are they not all the same around him? Teeth showing, muscles out of control. He bypasses all of your sense, worms his way into your bloodstream with just a word.

"Thanks," you manage. Eyes open, now, and fuck, you feel it. Right in the chest, like a punch that digs beneath your ribs and takes its pound of flesh.

Max looks good. You saw it from across the room but here, in front of you, you can see it more clearly.

There's something about him. A boyishness that remains around the eyes, the mouth. Hopeful mischief, maybe. Eternal youth, promise, faith.

God. This would all be so much easier if you weren't in love with him.

He studies you. Takes his time, gaze tracing the lines of your face. Your brows, your lashes. Nose, lips. Lips. His eyes stop there.

"You were staring," he says. Never one to back down from a challenge. Never one to let you off easy. It's a compliment, the way he drags you to the ring. Keep up with me, he's saying. Make it interesting.

"Yeah," you say, slowly. It drips out of your mouth, lingers in the air between you. "You look good."

His eyes flash. You're meeting his expectations. Always hard to live up to those, when the standard he holds himself to is so damn high. He expects you to climb up that mountain, too. If only to show that you're wiling to. That he's worth it. That you want to.

And he does look good. Max values honesty above most things, but his cheeks flush all the same. It's pretty, not that you'd tell him that. Maybe one more glass of wine and you would. It's not an original thought, far from it, but you reach for him all the same, liquid courage loading the barrel and cocking the gun.

You cup his cheek, thumb pressing to the corner of his mouth. Like a marionette with his strings cut, he sighs. You breath with him, leaning in. Everything else fades away, the world turning around the place where his skin touches yours. Palm on his stubbled cheek, eyes locked like you're moored to each other.

This is why you haven't let him go. Because it's like this. It's insane.

And Max knows it.

"What are we doing?" he whispers. His throat bobs and he looks unsure. Not an expression you've seen on him very often, but maybe that's the punchline.

This matters to him. Maybe as much as it matters to you. He leans into your palm and the fingers of one hand curl around your hips, pressing hard enough to bruise. He carefully tugs your wine glass from your grip and sets it on the thin table in the hall before crowding you agains the wall.

"I don't know," you whisper back. You're close enough that he must feel your breath on this lips. It's inexplicable, this feeling -- you should know. You've tried.

He reorients everything, you've said over and over again. It's like I'm seeing the world for the first time, but with him in it.

His breath is hot on your lips. "I need you," he says. "I --" He swallows. Pupils swelling, mouth set. You half expect him to pull on a racing suit and get in the car.

"Max," you manage. It's not a surprise, not really, but it stings the way that only the things you want can. "I--

"Nothing else is like this," he says, sounding more sure than you've ever heard. "No matter what, or who, it's not like this. I'm always thinking of you."

Something inside you crumples. Your very bones, maybe. Your heart, surely. He can't just say these things.

"Don't say if it you don't mean it," you manage. Your throat is thick, tears resting just behind your eyes. It makes sense to no one else, this love. This passion, this soul tie.

"I mean it," he says, voice steady. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask this of you, but I am. I'm asking."

Love me. Stick by me. Tell me you feel it, too.

You close your eyes again, but what appears behind your lids is no less than what's actually happening to you. This is the stuff of dreams, the deepest part of your heart that beats his name.

"I don't know how to do this," you whisper. His lips drag from your pulse point to your ear.

"Me neither," he replies. "But we have to try."

"I've wanted you for so long," you gasp. His fingers have snuck under the hem of your shirt, nails scratching up and down your back. "Max--"

Your name is a prayer on his tongue, a blessing, a benediction. A plea. You've never felt so safe as when he is at your altar.

"Let's go," he says. "Let's get out of here."

The where doesn't matter. The how, the why, the when. It doesn't matter.

Sometimes, things just happen the way they are supposed to. Lovers unite, reunite, and love. Is that not enough?

"Bet you say that to all the girls."

Your voice is hoarse, ragged. The opposite of his well-honed determination, his tunnel vision. You wanted this, didn't you? But you're stalling. Having and wanting are different.

"No," Max says. "Hey, look at me."

For all your talk, you keep doing anything he asks. It's so easy. You are so safe in his hands, even if they burn.

He presses his lips to the corner of your mouth and you open your eyes. Despite the drinks you watched him down they're clear. Ablaze with certainty.

"Max," you whisper. His nostrils flare.

"Just you," he says. "You have me. Just you."

He does this thing, when he's away. You bought him a keychain -- a lion, of course -- on a whim. Figured he'd throw it in a drawer somewhere and forget about it. But then he sent you a photo from a country you've never been to, holding up his keys, the lion dangling in the sunlight.

You get photos from all around the world, now.

Maybe...maybe, you can believe him. Maybe you can take. Maybe dreams can bleed into waking.

What else is there to do? His jaw ticks, lips parted as he exhales. You feel it, warm and shaky. That won't do.

The kiss doesn't surprise him. It's inevitable, a corner he's driven in his sleep, the finish line that always waits for him. Max always knows where he is going and maybe he knew you were on the way here, too.

And god, does he know how to kiss you. You're the one who leans in but he takes the wheel quickly, one hand pressing into your lower back under your shirt and the other dragging up your ribs to settle on your jaw. He licks into your mouth like there's a secret to find, like he can peel back your layers and find your heart in his palms, beating in time with his.

Nights in his bed, slow mornings watching him wake. Phone calls just to hear you breathe, texts and gifts and hints that, if you'd just say so, this could be more. This could be it.

But he's waited. You realize he's waited for you.

"You have me," you say, pulling away with a gasp. His lips chase yours, hovering so close that every word makes them brush. Your hands are woven in his hair, noses pressed together. Almost one person. "Max," you breathe. "You have me."

There are a thousand ways this could go wrong. Even if your world orbits around him, even if his heart is magnetized to yours, a star in the sky always pointing north -- reality is not so kind. It will be hard. No one will understand. People will want what you have, what you will hold dear for the rest of your life.

But it doesn't matter. Because Max -- a world champion, a boy who wanted who became a man who had everything -- is holding you. He smiles so wide it spreads to you, two smiles pressed together in the dim light of someone else's party.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay, let's go."

He kisses you once more, sloppy, teeth clacking, and grabs your hand. Out of the hall, through the party, barely a word for anyone else. Everybody wants you, you told him once. Hm, he'd said. I don't know about that.

But he gleams. He shines, flushed cheeks and bright eyes as he looks back to check that you're still there. Squeezing your hand in his, a man on a mission. Following that racing line all the way home, all eyes on him. But he knows where he's going.

Out of the party and onto the quiet street, breath floating up and away in excited puffs. Under the streetlight Max looks ethereal. Beautiful, boyish, in love. He's a dream come to life.

Your dream. Looking back at you like he's thinking the same.

He says your name like he's been looking everywhere and finally found you. Reaching the end of the road, throwing the door open and falling to his knees. An answer. The answer.

He kisses you on the empty street. You fall, and fall, and fall.

Together.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

batfam and the fanfic tropes i’m giving them

ft. bruce, dick, and jason

bruce

child’s teacher x single parent i mean that’s literally him. but also i like the idea of exploring his partner’s relationship with his kids

i want somebody to write like a bruce x whoever fic (whoever it is isn’t that important but i’m just saying i do think superbat is fun) with that trope

some college au where like all the kids have taken one of prof kent’s class and they all think he should be their dad

because they don’t want to leave their new dad

they’re hyping bruce up without him even knowing during their office hours

“like yknow prof kent, my dad has a dinosaur”

“oh…that’s certainly…interesting? i’m not sure what this has to do with intro to investigative journalism though”

“you could investigate the dinosaur! actually, we always have a big thanksgiving dinner and our butler, alfred, makes the best stuffing. why don’t you come over and check it out?”

“i’m not sure that’s appropriate of me as your professor. also i’m not sure a dinosaur would be a suitable—”

“you could get an exclusive interview with gotham’s richest and most eligible bachelor? um and we’ll throw in some wayne enterprises secrets too”

“…what was the address again?”

also i think he just gives me enemies to lovers vibes

maybe it has something to do with his canonical relationships

dick

meet cute i think he’s the only one who’s smooth enough to make this not awkward

like it is sort of awkward because this man flirts using puns but i feel like he’s charming enough to make it work

“hey girl are you a booger because i would pick you first” and then rolls nat20

fake dating

i feel like he would agree to it whether or not he actually liked the other person. honestly he might come up with the idea himself

he’s a naturally flirty guy and if he didn’t have a crush on the other person before he’s going to be so smooth with it

but then he spends time with them and he finds himself slower falling for them?

and like even if he ramps up the flirting, maybe tries to be more physical or spend more time with them, he’s not getting his message across and now he’s shooting himself in the foot for agreeing to this in the first place (and not realizing his own feelings and making a move before all of this happened)

but also maybe he’s just dense because he’s not picking up on the fact that they are doing a really bad job at hiding their feelings for him too

ALTERNATIVELY he goes into it already liking them

he thinks he’s going to be soooo smooth and charm them off their feet and then boom they’ll be dating for real

but for the first time in his life he’s stuttering and not knowing what to do and it’s really annoying how even when he’s like that, or maybe because he’s like that, he’s just as cute as he always is

he’s just a lover boy

jason

friends to lovers man seems like he needs to really trust somebody and have an emotional connection with them before pursuing a relationship

also this man canonically cannot flirt and cannot pick up on flirting so i don’t really think meet cutes are gonna work

i’m just imagining they’ve been friends for a while

it took him a really long time to open up. slowly, bit by bit, he reveals more of himself to his friend until he can honestly say they’re one of the people who knows him best

i think one of his biggest fears is not being good enough, like he’ll scare them away with all of his baggage and flaws. every time they have a late night conversation he lets his guard down a little and tests the water. he’ll give them a crumb and see how it goes. honestly, he’s terrified of their reaction but when things go well, he can’t help but want to give them more of himself

i think he’s always had bigger things in his life to worry about other than romance

is he a hopeless romantic? absolutely, if his bookshelf is anything to go by. but i think in some ways he has removed himself from that possibility a long time ago and maybe doesn’t see how he could be at all like the people in happy, loving, stable relationships that he reads about

it’ll take him a long time to realize his own emotions, much less act on them

and because of that, i think

idiots in love would also fit him very well. sorry i just think this guy is emotionally repressed and stupid and if the other person doesn’t figure shit out i don’t think he will either

i sure am roasting him a lot for someone who has a blog dedicated to him

but anyways, i feel like it would take a push for him to confess. whether that be a life threatening injury to either of them or maybe they’re getting too close to another person. i think he would need to come to terms with the fact that he could lose them and then decide that he would rather take the risk than never try

don’t think he’s making a move until he’s at least somewhat sure that the other person likes him back though

this is the best case scenario though. depending on what stage of his life he’s in when he meets somebody he likes, it could very well end up as a

right person wrong time i feel like he's also the most self-sabotaging out of all of them

like even if he met his soulmate, i think what he needs is therapy, not romance and would inevitably end up hurting himself and his partner when it turns out his own issues get in the way of his relationship

like he can't actually be fully vulnerable, not able to balance his work and personal life because what he's doing is so personal to him, not being able to settle down, that type of thing

guys i swear i want him to be happy

[neuvilette-tea-party]

₊ ˙ ⊹Steb x F!reader₊ ˙ ⊹

Headcanons Pre-Relationship SFW

I came to realize this format is for shorter stories? But I am an idiot and I cannot stop writing about best boy!

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

As a junior Medic, Steb is your mentor. He silently, but patiently, teaches you. 

Trains with you every day, with a scalpel or boxing gloves. 

Steb is a really good boxer and even better with batons, while you excel in Judo. 

You live life at his pace when you are in the barracks, eating when he eats, training when he trains, sleeping when he sleeps, practicing medicine when he decides it is time to teach you... You become his shadow. 

You practice incisions and stitching wounds on a dummy under his impartial but merciless gaze. He has an unconventional approach to the job himself, but no defective stitches escape his eyes. He asks you to start over each time he finds one, and even if he is instransigent he never refuse to helps, showing you an easier method or a quicker trick.  

You get better and better every day and he appears pleased with you, congratulating you with a nod and a pat on the shoulder. 

When you’re lucky you go on Patrol with him and Maddie, when you are extra lucky only him. But most of the time you are partnered with someone else and you cannot wait to come back to the barracks to train with Steb again! 

He is dead silent but extremely expressive when he wants to be. You learned to decipher every throat muscle contraction, every side eye, every blink, if he uses his third eyelids or not... Every infinitesimal facial twist speaks louder than any word he could say and you’ve gone pro at decoding every single one of them. 

Maddie gets crazy when you have an entire silent conversation with Steb with only raised eyebrows, head tilts, and nods during work. Loris just laughs his ass off at her getting more and more exasperated. 

Steb shows you all the little tricks he learned on the spot and in dire situations, what truly makes the difference between life and death under gunshots, things you do not learn in books or on a dummy. 

He had to stitch some of your wounds after an intense training session, making him softly grin while you sighed deeply, a little bit embarrassed to be so careless. 

You did not know if it was appropriate to eat fish in his presence at first, so you did not. 

He ever so slowly relaxes around you, letting you see his less stoic side from time to time. This is a rarity tho. 

Your unit as a game: the first one to assemble his weapon blindfolded, wins. Steb always beats you with the riffle but you win with the revolver. Loris beats everyone with every weapon. 

Steb keeps you under his wing for months, keeping you company during breaks, playing cards with you, watching movies late at night in the break room, arm wrestling with you when you feel feisty, he cannot beat you to billiards tho but he is good sport. Each days at the barracks you are attached to the hips, so much so that seeing one of you alone raises eyebrows. 

You earned the nickname “Mini-Steb” at the barracks for a time. You find it quite funny but Steb less so. He took the floor, a rarity, and asked your colleagues to respect your individuality and character. This was such a rare occurrence that everyone obeyed without a second word, while you looked at him with round eyes. 

He is a pretty good cook and handles spices at a higher level than any human, that’s why they put a rule in place for him not to spice the dishes himself, this is the only thing he cannot do in the kitchen, cause everyone would have a rough time. You love it when it is your turn to cook with him, Maddie finds it boring because he is even more non-verbal than usual but you love it, you try to match his pace and speed as best you can like a game. 

And because he looks pretty cute in an apron, you have to be honest. 

You discovered Steb had gills on his neck and his ribcage. You noticed the last ones when he took off his shirt during a training session to use the towel on his chest. You went immediately still at that view, completely shocked and hypnotized by that scene. You had to mentally slap yourself to manage to take your eyes off that... beautiful sight and you drank your entire bottle of water in one go, feeling incredibly parched out of a sudden. Maddies asked you why you did not finish your sentence but you could only wipe the sweat off your forehead, trying to make sense of your inner turmoil. 

Him who is usually so modest and rarely if never takes off layers in front of people... You were so unprepared but that sight! 

You both have your habits on patrol, you go to the same cafes, visit the same tea salon and always go to the same bar at the end of a shift. He always asks for a consomme while you change dishes each time. 

You notice that you spoke less and less yourself, mimicking your mentor, finding words more and more superfluous when you could just act on a matter. 

Steb baked you a cake for your birthday, without you having to remind him of the date. 

Excellent chess player, owns several books on different Chess masters that he reads religiously during breaks while also learning to play Go. He goes easy on you with other games but he will hand you your ass without any mercy with those two games. 

You learned he like to spend time in libraries and bookshops during his leaves and crossed paths with him on several occasions with his bag full of new books. 

Never took a puff of tobacco of any sort in his life and heavily avoids any smoking area. His eye twitched once when you revealed to him you tried weed once with friends in high school, but he remained silent, neither approving nor disapproving. 

Drinks alcohol only for big occasions and will limit himself to one glass only. 

Keeps his uniform immaculate, his helmet shiny and his weapons squicky clean. 

Good with cats and animals in general. Owned a bird in his childhood. 

Undisputed champion in the pool. Every once in a while someone thinks that they can outspeed him in water and is immediately proven wrong, but you get the occasion to play the cheerleader to support him each time, so you don’t complain. You handed him his towel when he got out of the pool, water trickling down his well-carved body and your eyes got lost for a second before so much skin, mouth slightly agape before such a spectacle. 

 You are Steb’s perfect assistant in mission, guessing his needs and demands in advance, handing him the correct tools without him having to ask to save your comrades’ or civilians’ lives. You move and think like a single being, creeping out Maddie. She told you you both look like possessed when you save lives together under fire like you were connected like a hivemind. You don't see her problem: you are saving lives! 

After each successful mission on the terrain, Steb pays you a drink, always wrapped in his usual mustism. You take an ale while he usually goes for iced tea or squach, making you giggle as you imagine the thought of the other patrons discovering a 6’1 ft  stern enforcer in full gear sipping sugary juice at the bar with a straw. 

But those drinks are between you and Steb only, between Mentor and Protege 

And maybe a bit more, you bust yourself hoping? 

One day Steb takes you aside in an empty room and hands you a piece of paper. Your official recommendation and aptitude certification to enter the Medic examination of the Enforcers. Signed by his hand. You look up at him with a gasp, full of hope. 

He grabs your shoulder, looking straight into your eyes. and nods with a tight smile. 

[the-californicationist]

hi cail! this is sizzleee2 from another account 😅 i was wondering if you could possibly make a fic with anyone from tf141 with fem!reader who immediately after sex feels asexuel and gets a little distant, doesnt need aftercare because shes never had any and then finds out how good aftercare feels??? idk, if you dont want to then no pressure! you r just my favourite writer and i love to read your fics!!

-sk0 <3

I’m slowly making my way through my ask box, and you probably forgot about this but I didn’t! lol 😂 I don’t think I fulfilled this request though. Epic fail on my part. Aftercare?? Maybe. If you squint. I’m so sorry. I just got too horny for Gaz. Forgive me? 🩷🩷

TW: female reader, the expected amount of Kyle sass (see gif)

——— MDNI ———

Tethered

—

The skin-searing warmth of his body left you as he finished, falling away and leaving you cold and lonely. The air of the room rushed across your skin, reminding you that he was done with you. He’d used you, and much like the tarred end of a smoked cigarette, you were filthy, you were wet and sticky from his mouth, and you were no longer smoldering from his burning affection. You had been savored and snuffed out, and that was that.

As soon as his heavy frame rolled off of you, you flung the sheet away and darted into the bathroom, ready to be clean again.

You wished you could be like those girls in the movies; the ones who curled around their emptied lovers, laying her head upon his chest, letting him squeeze and fondle her as he dozed, playing in the sweaty mess of her hairline, skirting his brutish fingers along the slope of her brow.

But you weren’t. You were something else. You weren’t sure exactly what, but your past partners had called you all sorts of things. Low-maintenance. Easy-going. Little Miss Quickie.

“Hey,” the door to the bathroom was wrenched open, and in the dark portal of its frame stood your most recent conquest: Sergeant Kyle Garrick, scowling down at you.

He was still naked, as were you, and now that the sparkling fire of your pleasure had been extinguished, it was less exciting and more practical than it should’ve been. Sure, the heavy musculature of his neck and shoulders were still beautifully aggressive. The broad span of his chest was yet as inviting as it had been at the bar last night. The deep v-cut of his Adonis belt was just as tantalizing, particularly when it lead to a softer, shinier, well-used cock, still dripping desire from its gleaming slit.

“What?” You asked, turning to face him, your washcloth in hand.

“Where’d you go? I’m not done,” he asked.

As Gaz stepped forward into your space, you turned to give him your back, watching him in the mirror, feeling and seeing his enormous arms curling around your shoulders and belly like a giant kraken, ready to pull you back into the sea of his bed.

“You felt done to me,” you shrugged, continuing to wash your face, “Was it not good for you?”

The incredulous look in his eye froze you to the spot, and the suds of your soap foamed and popped across your cheek as you waited for his reply.

He pulled himself away, unwinding himself like ribbon from a spool, slipping through you like sand through loose fingers.

“It was proper brilliant. You know it was. You were there,” he laughed, a hint of bitterness tinging the edge of his mirth, “Am I wrong, babes?” Then, his timbre darkened with a quiet uncertainty, “Am I wrong?”

“No,” you turned to face him, wiping your cheek clean, “It was really nice. It’s not you. I’m just usually Ubering home by now.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, pushing back. But he didn’t shy away. He smiled, almost knowingly, as if he expected you to say as much.

“Not much of a cuddler, is that it?” He smiled a bit wider, reaching his arms around you cautiously, waiting for you to pull away again.

You shook your head, and he held your chin in one of his large fists, lifting you up to face him. He studied you, looking into your eyes as if trying to see your mind working away behind them,

“Want me to show you how?”

You met his gaze, and you didn’t know what expression you wore on your face. It was hard to even describe the emotion you were feeling, much less name it. But, when he looked down at you, he seemed to know.

Gaz grabbed your hand in his and dragged you over to the large shower behind him. He turned the water on hot and coaxed you inside. For a few moments, you thought it may be too warm for you to stand it, but as your skin became accustomed to the steam and the heat, you felt your body relax. He didn’t bother with soaping you up or washing your hair; he simply held you against him, your head tucked into his chest, shadowed by his hulking form, covering you in the oppressive warmth of his affection and the pouring water. It flooded your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more pliant to his whims, more open to suggestion, blooming under his touch like a reluctant bud, afraid of the bite from the frost you knew too well.

Because this wasn’t forever. He’d say goodbye eventually. You’d feel the sting of loneliness one way or another. Better to rip the bandage off now and get it over with. Right?

“Hey, come back,” he held your jaw in his strong fingers, making you meet his eyes again, “That’s it. Stay with me, baby. You don’t need to go anywhere. Don’t need to do anything. Just be here, right now, with me. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know why, but you rejoiced to hear those words. There was something in the way he insisted, something in the comfort of his steady, unhurried embrace that allowed you to melt down into his arms.

When he began to rub you down, chasing the rivulets and currents of the cascading water, you didn’t feel rushed. There was no urgency. He fondled you and caressed you; he squeezed your soft breasts in his palms, but he wasn’t after an orgasm - not yours nor his. He just wanted to touch you.

You felt his hand find your tender pussy, his fingers stretching their way into your hole, still sore from taking his challenging length, still slick from the sticky mixture of your come.His fingertips pressed inside of you, and it was his turn to sigh, his body relaxing into yours, warm to his bones from how joyful he felt at being so welcomed into your hot core.

Pressing your head into his chest, you let yourself live in the moment. You were allowing yourself to be in this steamy limbo with him, feeling him as he was feeling you and yet in no rush to the finish line.

“I’ve got you, babes,” he kissed your forehead, pushing into your cunt even deeper, rocking rather than thrusting his hand against you, letting you grind your hips into the heel of his palm, “I don’t wanna stop. But, if you —“

You shook your head, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt him smile. You whispered into his chest,

“It’s alright. We don’t have to stop.”

“Come back to bed with me, then,” Gaz demanded gently, his voice holding a stronger challenge than it had before, steeled by your precarious consent.

You looked up at him, unsure if you could give him what he wanted, but you were willing to try.

You nodded, and he flipped off the water, reaching out of the door to wrap you in a big towel. You watched him dry off quickly before leading you back to bed. He climbed in before you, turning back the duvet, giving you a shadowy little burrow to stuff your body into. You turned away from him, your back to his chest. You held your breath in your lungs still for a moment, wondering and waiting, but once you felt his skin on your skin, you could relax again.

Reaching behind you, you found his hard prick and guided it so that he would slip between your legs, nestled right below your lips, curving through your chubby thighs and up against your mons. The trembling sigh that came from his throat as his cock slotted itself into place lit a fire in your chest again, reigniting the once-cold embers.

He thrust himself against you, testing the waters, waiting for you to reject his advances, but you canted your hips, letting the wetness of your hole glide against the body of his cock, licking him like a mouth as he rutted between your legs. His tongue was on your neck, his hands were on your breasts and belly, his scent invaded your nose; he was everywhere. You didn’t have a chance to second-guess yourself or your smoldering excitement because he was like the steam from his shower; he suffocated your doubts with his desire.

“That’s my good girl,” he muttered against your kiss-bitten flesh, “Use her on me like that. Just like that.”

Gaz reached down to cup your mons, his fingers cradling his head each time he fucked his cock against your folds, keeping it pressed into the slit of your wet quim, nudging your clit every time he shoved himself forward. You helped him, rocking your hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, listening to the soaked, milking noises your sex was making with him.

“See?” He whispered, slurring his words from the pleasure that he was stoking inside of himself, using you to build his fire back to a high roar, “A cuddle isn’t so bad. That’s why you gotta stay here in bed with me, baby. Give me a chance to get hard for you again, yeah?”

You nodded, moaning in agreement, arching your neck to give him more room to work his mouth on you. He took advantage of it right away, feasting on your sensitive skin, raking his sharp teeth across you like the flat edge of a knife, stinging but not ready to draw blood.

“Wanna take you again. Let me have you,” he snarled, all his gentility burning away against his blazing want.

Before you could so much as whimper his name, his hand pressed down until his cockhead was prodding against the soft mouth of your cunt, waiting for your body to swallow him whole. He held his breath as he dipped inside of you. He went slowly, inching his way through your soaked walls, drowning his long shaft in its familiar sheath, groaning and shaking from the bliss of it.

You twisted your hand in the sheets, nearly screaming from the pleasure, too full to move, overstimulated and yet begging him for more with the hungry grind of your hips.

Then, he used his heavy body to shove you beneath him, rolling you onto your belly, pinning you beneath his chest and wrapping his arms around you, stealing away any chance of your escape. But you didn’t want to escape, not anymore. All of your thoughts had been rewired and rewritten with his ink pen, reminding you that you were his to take.

“Ungh, fuck!” He bit down on the nape of your neck, whimpering in a dark, gravelly tone, “Just like that. Squeeze me, baby. Use that fuckin’ pussy on me.”

“Gaz…” You keened, feeling the edge of your orgasm rising within you like a white-hot sun.

“What?” He snapped a little cruelly, “Still wanna go home? Fuck that. Not done with you, baby. Gonna make this tight little pussy remember the shape of me, yeah? I’ll keep you hungry for it.”

As your legs began to shake, Gaz fucked himself into you even deeper, reaching too far and stretching you too wide, forcing a wall of pleasure to slam into your core, making you clench around him that much harder. You felt yourself flood with your own sticky come, and right at the top of your blinding joy, you heard him hiss against your ear, chuckling in a teasing, devilish tone,

“That’s what I thought. Not goin’ anywhere, are ya?”

[drdemonprince]

had a date with someone, oestensibly a man, who went on and on and on about how much he enjoys giving pleasure to his female partners and feels most fulfilled by watching the female body experience pleasure. Oral service top, the bane of my fucking existence. Says he adores threesomes, mostly a woman and himself and a guy, because then he can experience all of the possible pleasures as a witness, see the other guy really giving it to her and thrive on her pleasure and plus, hey, he loves dicks too. Incredibly stylish effeminate guy. Sensitive artiste. He told me than when he goes to the gym he looks at shredded androgynous women with the kinds of bodies he wished he had, and he aches. Earlier in the night he said he had some kind of trans thing going on, and gestured with an open gripping hand at his head. At the right moment I asked him, have you ever though about doing anything about that? No, he demurred, not in terms of hormones or transitioning or anything like that. He didn't offer a reason. He just continued going on about how much he loves watching women's bodies during sex, and said that usual denial-filled stuff about how he's fine, he's just fine, this isn't ideal (he puts a hand to his chest) but it can do lots of cool things, his body, and so it will do.

And I can feel bad, I guess, for him. And I said to him what I could about how once I felt that way too. I coveted the men who had the bodies I wish I had, obsessed over them while loathing myself, and you never do know when the feeling is bad enough to do something about it, do you, but I was alive at the right moment in history and I inexplicably went for it and now I do not feel that ache, I like who I am, and all my old frustrated longing has settled inside of myself. But it was half-hearted, my saying it. Because I can't convince someone else. And no matter how sweet and cute I would have found him if he liked being him, it was all a terrible turnoff.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Pepi's birthday fic!🪄🎩🍌 Pookie's 22 now🥹 still such a baby💛

Also, I inspired in my fic about Gavi loving neck kisses, I keep seeing how Pedri gives forehead kisses to his teammates, I can imagine him doing that to his gf😭 so here it is!

One more thing, referring to the picture below what is it need to do for Pedri to look at me like that? 😭😭😭

Forehead Kisses -PG8

Summary: He loves forehead kisses and so do you.

Since the very beggining of your relationship with Pedri, you quickly learned all his habits, manias, facts, likes, dislikes; for example when he scrunches his face in concentration and pulls out the tip of his tongue, when he's nervous he taps his fingers against his thigh, he secretly loves rom-com movies, he's reserved with his things, his people, including you and his life. You knew how to read every single bit of him.

In your relationship, he's the most perfect partner, barely forgets dates, always texts or calls you, he is interested in your things, he cares for you and for your family, he gets along with your friends, he loves communicating with you. He's just him.

When it's only the two of you or with his/your family around, nothing can stop him from being all over you, they know how he is and they know how in love with you he is. On the other hand, he's very reserved while being in public, going as far as a hand hold, a hand on the back of your seat, a hand on your thigh or a small kiss on your forehead. That could never be missed.

You've never told Pedri before but you knew he loved giving forehead kisses, not just to you but also to his teammates, his friends and family.

And you loved them as well, that much you sometimes started looking for them, pushing your forehead into him so he could lean down and press his lips in your temple. It never failed to make you feel loved and protected by him.

So one morning, you were chopping the vegetables as Rosy was doing the eggs when you hear a small "Buenos días" (Good morning) and soon Pedri came into the kitchen with his face a bit swollen and a sleepy face.

"Buenos días" He got his reply from you all as he went one by one hugging his brother, Fer first; then his dad, then his mom and then he walked over to you.

"Buenos días, amor" (Good morning, love) You say briefly looking up at him before grabbing an onion and start cutting it.

"Buen día, preciosa" (Morning, gorgeous) He mumbles, one of his arms wrapped around you as he hugs your side with his lips against your temple and staying there.

"Still feeling sleepy?" He nods humming and inhaling your shampoo scent "Why don't you go upstairs then, vida? I can go to you once breakfast it's ready" He shook his head

"You know I can't sleep without you in my arms" You smile softly before lifting your head, making him open his eyes and look down at you

"It'll be only for a few minutes" You whisper so it's just the two of you when he shakes his head -no- leaning once again to give your forehead a kiss and then he went a bit further down to your lips and kissed you softly. "Amor, go"

"You can go with him, Y/N/N" Fer says coming up to you "I can handle this"

"No, don't worry. I'm almost done"

"Go, hija" Rosy spoke up "You must be tired as well, you just came from a flight a few hours ago"

"I'm good, I promise. Let me just finish this"

"Hijo" (Son) Fernando said looking at Pedri, who just chuckled and grabbed you by the back of your thighs

You dropped the knife and the onion in the counter, letting a small yell out "¡Ahh Pedri! Fernando, Rosy; I want to help!"

"You already helped us, bonita" (Pretty) Fernando said

"But I love doing that type of salad, please!"

"I'll do it" Fer smiled

"Make sure to add mustard and a bit of sugar, please!" You raise your voice as Pedri pulled the two of you out of the kitchen "You're mean"

"I just want my girlfriend, too much to ask?"

"No" You kissed his cheek "You were going to have me after helping your parents, now they'll think bad of me"

"Preciosa, we've been together for almost three years now, they absolutely love you, they could never think bad of you" Pedri opened the door to his room, letting you in and closing the door on him "You're their daughter, now" He said now on the bed, covering the both of you with the blankets.

"Is my food that bad?" You ask

"Nena" (Baby) "Stop that. They absolutely love and adore you and your skills" He said dropping a kiss to your temple.

You smiled "Wanna know something?" You whisper

"What's up?"

"I really love you giving me forehead Kisses. They're my favorite" You say feeling your cheeks grow red

"Are they?" You nod embarrassed hiding your face into his neck. You feel and hear Pedri's giggle "Don't be embarrassed"

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not! I just think you're way too cute" He kissed your temple one more time

"Pedriiii" You whine

"Wanna know something too?" He pulls his face away, so you're looking straight into his big brown eyes

"What?"

"I love giving you forehead kisses" He smiles "They're my favorite type of kiss too" You smile at him, both of you lean in and soon your lips meet in a slow, loving kiss. "I love you"

"I love you too, Pepi"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela (if you'd like to be tagged, let me know!) also @luvgavii 🫶🏻✨ a small birthday gift, hope you like it!

[muletia]

These obsessed Orian and Optimus fics have got me thinking about what if Megatron was just as obsessed with reader as Optimus, and they have a tug of war sort of battle between them where one side snatches you for their leader back and forth.

It has gotten to the point where you couldn’t even sleep in your own home anymore without some decepticon destroying your ceiling in order to take you away to their leader like a toy.

Megatron would definitely see reader as a tool to further his goals as well as leverage to use against Optimus. He laughed out loud when he heard about his nemesis having feelings for a puny human. If Megatron could punch his past self for daring to think so lowly of you, he would do it without a second thought. He is so much worse than Optimus because he doesn’t allow you to leave him sight even when you plead that you have to go to work.

Work? What work? You don’t need to work anymore now that you’re his queen. Don’t be ridiculous.

Oh, but Optimus… He. Is. Pissed. He would never rest until you were back in his servo safe and sound. He would quite literally crash out as soon as he found out Megatron took his beloved.

I love having two obsessed bots fight over me <3

YOU ARE SO BIG BRAINED OMG, these ideas are so tasty

okay, this scenario could unfold in several ways, but i see a huge comedic potential here. at first, of course, there's nothing funny about it at all, because being kidnapped by the leader of the decepticons himself to be used as a bargaining chip is far from humorous. but! let's say that despite the hopelessness of your situation, you dare to resist, to fight back, because you know that megatron doesn’t have the guts to hurt you. he knows you’re too important to optimus, and killing you gains him nothing. the problem is that by being defiant, you end up sealing your fate because megatron starts to take an interest in you. at first, he’s just fascinated by you, maybe even slightly amused. but this unimportant infatuation quickly turns into something more, something that terrifies megatron himself. it’s stronger than him, more powerful, more aggressive, and more relentless. suddenly, you’re no longer a bargaining chip—you’ve been promoted to a much worse position. you’ve become his partner, his second-in-command, his queen. someone who suddenly holds immense significance for him. and that is absolutely terrifying.

megatron doesn’t get to enjoy your company for long, though, because you’re quickly rescued by the autobots. optimus is, of course, ecstatic that the mission was a success and that you’re finally safe, but for a few days, you’ll have to kiss your social life and work goodbye, as optimus will insist on you being under constant supervision at the base. maybe during this time, the two of you grow closer despite the circumstances of your house arrest? and despite the paranoia wreaking havoc in optimus's processor, part of him is content with having you constantly in sight and that your relationship has warmed even more.

the same can’t be said for megatron, who is, to put it mildly, tweaking out. is he just supposed to let you go after he’s had a taste of you? after he’s grown to enjoy your company and having you always within reach? ha! he’s not letting go that easily. a few days after you return to your normal life, a random vehicon gets the order to bring you back to nemesis, straight into his master’s hands. megatron is satisfied—you, not so much—and optimus is losing his mind. this time, however, the rescue mission doesn’t go as smoothly. the leader of the decepticons personally keeps an eye on you, and you’re constantly watched by soundwave. but let’s say the autobots manage to rescue you again... until you’re kidnapped once more.

and here’s where the comedic aspect kicks in. at some point, your fear for your life shifts to irritation. by the tenth time you land in the servos of the great leader of the decepticons, whose most sinister plans apparently involve just keeping you here against your will and occasionally you patting him on the helm, it’s honestly just exhausting. the most troublesome part is the lack of autonomy—otherwise, you’re pretty much chilling as long as you don’t tease or provoke him. although, even that gets boring after a while. you just want to live a normal life... you never asked to be sandwiched between the boobs of two leaders who do nothing but bark at each other...

[soulofapatrick]

The Bat Boys and their Kinks

Summary: Just what I think the bat boys main kinks would be

Words: 951 words

Warnings: smut

➩ Overstimulation - Rhys takes immense pleasure in seeing you unravel completely. He doesn’t rush—he’s patient, thorough, and relentless, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you until you’re trembling in his arms. He whispers soft reassurances, telling you how beautifully you fall apart for him, even as he gently coaxes you into another wave of bliss. To him, overstimulation is about worship, proving just how deeply he can satisfy you.

➩ Praise kink - Rhys thrives on building his partner up, and this extends seamlessly into the bedroom. His velvety voice is full of admiration as he murmurs how beautiful, strong, and perfect you are. He takes pride in watching your cheeks flush and hearing the little sounds of pleasure you make in response to his words, each one spurring him on to give you more. 

➩ Brat taming - Rhys relishes a challenge, and when you act out, it only excites him further. He’d let you push his buttons just enough before stepping in with a commanding smirk, pinning you down and reminding you exactly who’s in charge. His punishment is never cruel—just firm enough to leave you breathless and begging for more, ensuring you remember your place at his side.

➩ Cunnilingus - Rhys loves giving, and he takes his time with it, savouring every moan and tremble he elicits from you. His strong arms hold your thighs steady, even as you try to close them around his head. His tongue is deliberate, teasing, and relentless, ensuring you fall apart completely before he’s satisfied. He considers it his favourite way to worship you, often finishing you there alone because your pleasure is his reward.

➩ Semi-public - Rhysand is daring and loves the thrill of intimacy in risky places. Whether it’s a secluded balcony overlooking Velaris or a shadowed alcove in the Court of Nightmares, the danger of being caught only adds to the excitement. He delights in the way your cheeks flush with the risk, always leaving you aching for more once you’re safely alone again.

➩ Thigh riding - Azriel loves watching you come undone in this way. He’ll sit back, hands firmly gripping your hips as you grind against his thigh, guiding your rhythm but letting you take control. The tension in his jaw, the way his shadows curl around you like they want to pull you closer, makes it even more intense. He murmurs dark, filthy things as he watches the flush creep up your skin, savouring every sound you make. 

➩ Hair pulling - There’s something about the way your head tilts back when he winds his hand into your hair that drives him wild. It’s not just dominance—it’s the control, the soft gasp you make, and the way you arch into him, fully at his mercy.

➩ Cockwarming - Azriel’s patient and intimate nature makes this a perfect fit. He’d relish the quiet closeness and the trust it requires, enjoying the stillness and connection before building to something more intense. Sometimes he's just so bone tired from it all. he just needs to feel you, nothing more. sitting you on his lap and sinking his cock into your welcoming walls. face burying into your neck and savouring the feeling.

➩ Marking - Azriel has a possessive streak that comes out in moments of passion. His lips find the tender places on your neck, his teeth pressing just enough to leave reminders of him behind. He loves knowing you’ll carry those marks, a secret only the two of you share.

➩ Silent sex - Azriel thrives on quiet intensity. The thrill of needing to stay quiet, of muffling your cries into his hand as he thrusts into you, makes every touch electrifying. His shadows keep watch, ensuring your secret moments remain just that—yours alone.

➩ Face fucking - Cassian’s dominance shines in moments like this. He loves the rawness of it, his hand gripping your hair as he looks down at you with that predatory gaze. There’s a wild edge to the way he thrusts into your mouth, groaning at the sight of your lips stretched around him. It’s not just about the act—it’s about the trust, the way you surrender completely to him, and the smug pride that comes with knowing you’re his.

➩ Breeding - Cassian’s primal side comes alive with this kink. The thought of you full of him—marked by him—drives him wild. He growls promises in your ear, holding you tight as he whispers how good you’d look carrying his child. It’s not just physical; it’s deeply emotional, tied to his protective instincts and desire to build something lasting with you.

➩ Dry humping - Cassian finds this teasing and playful, a way to build anticipation until you’re begging for more. The friction, the way you move together with clothes still in the way, and the growing desperation in your eyes all fuel his desire. He’d laugh lowly in your ear, loving how frustrated and needy you get, knowing he’s in control of when things escalate.

➩  Rough Sex - Cassian thrives on intensity and passion, and rough sex is where he truly lets loose. He’s all growls and harsh grips, pinning you against the wall or bending you over whatever surface is closest. His sheer physical strength makes every moment thrilling, and he loves the way you cling to him, leaving scratches down his back as he pushes you both to the edge.

➩ Body worship -  Cassian adores every inch of you, and he makes sure you know it. His hands roam your body with reverence, his lips pressing kisses to places you didn’t even know were sensitive. He’d take his time, murmuring how perfect you are, marvelling at every curve, scar, or freckle. For him, this is about making you feel like the goddess he sees you as.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

TAGS:

@lilah-asteria @maleficmuse @fanficscuziranout @angelbunny222 @illyriassweetheart

[give-some-lemons]

“Accidents happen”

Pregnancy headcanons with Silco

Tags: pregnancy; unplanned pregnancy; older man/younger woman; topside reader.

~ when you first met him it was an interesting and pleasant surprise for you to finally see how the famous and so fearful Eye of Zaun looked like. A man who aged like the most expensive wine from your family’s collection with a sharp features, a few grey strands in his hair and, of course, a red eye, which you could compare to a comet drifting in a night sky.

~ everything about him was nothing like you expected it to be — his clothes, behavior, manner of speaking was more similar to a topside one and that… intrigued. A man who hates Piltover and its citizens but wants to live and look like them? You let an evil chuckle out, while he pressed his scarred lips to the back of your hand.

~ for him you were an exotic exemplar, a topside aristocrat who’s father was probably his age, but despite that fact you were still showing interest in him, keeping your sight on his face and body much longer than etiquette allows, saying ambiguous things that a young lady of your status should not even think about, trying to get under his skin.

~ at the late nights he dreamed about those gaze looking at him from the bottom up, those lips on the most intimate parts of his body and this silk hair in his hand while he guides you in a way he needs the most. You were driving him insane, leaving him without any thought except the sinful ones where lust was completely taking control of him

~ it was only a couple of nights between two of you, when your fingers that ran along his shoulder or chest was turning a peaceful evening into an act of passion and pleasures. When his previous meeting was so unsuccessful that the next second you walked in his office you were finding yourself on his desk with his lips on the soft skin of your neck. When you felt an arousal blooming in your lower abdomen just because of the way his fingers moved through his hair or loosening his tie.

~ you loved teasing him especially in the most inappropriate places like his office, filled with people who came for business reasons, and then watch how he slowly succumbs to his lustful desires, making every possible effort for the meeting to be over as quickly as possible. After his partners left the room, you were literally thrown onto a nearby sofa with his slender posture looming over you and his teeth biting into the softness of your skin.

~ after some time, there were certain signals that you wished to ignore: weakness throughout your body, feelings of nausea at the most inconvenient times of the day and mild, barely noticeable pains in the lower abdomen. You were scared, more to say terrified by the fact that a tiny life was already growing inside of you.

~ sitting in his office and discussing another topic, related to your family business you could feel his hand caressing and squeezing your thigh wanting nothing more than to take you right there, leaving all of the stress he had during the day behind and forgetting himself in the softness of your skin. That’s exactly the time when you tell him about the consequences of your passionate nights that already came to life.

~ at first he freezes, studying you with his piercing gaze, most likely searching for any signs of deceit or the most terrible joke he's ever heard in his life. Covered with a mask of indifference, that he mastered for a lot of years deep inside he’s shocked, in the greatest disbelief that it’s even possible in his age. Only when the man lightened a cigarette and inhaled the soothing smoke into his lungs, he broke a heavy silence with his hoarse voice.

— Are… you sure?

A young woman in front of him sighs slightly raising her eyebrows in annoyance, as she always did.

— I called a doctor this morning, how do you think?

An older man emits another puff of smoke with a dark chuckle. Raising a child he doesn’t even wanted with a woman he had in his bed a few times was not something he planned to, especially knowing how hard it is. He already has a kid, a stubborn young woman who he loves with all his heart and he really wishes to just shrug, leaving aristocrat at fate’s will along with his seed growing inside of her, but he hesitates for a split of second.

— What are you planning to do?

She nervously purses her lips into a thin line trying her best not to lose her face, her confidence before him even tho a man can tell the truth just by how her body language changed. She was frightened. An heir of a noble family, an arrogant piltie and a young girl who’s future was brighter than the sky over her head is now sitting with a head of the biggest criminal organization, who probably was suitable for her as a father discussing his child in her belly.

— I’ll keep it.

Of course, what else she could say now, when there’s not so much options left for her. Deep down she probably knows the answer to her own question — he will not help, she’s on her own now and it feels as if the whole world had fallen with an unbearable weight on her shoulders.

— I’ll take care of everything you’ll need.

She finally raised her gaze to the man across from her after a long starring at a smoldering ashes in a bright painted ashtray. Despite that her face didn’t show any emotion her heart skipped a beat fulfilling chest with warmth.

~ in the next days he already was in your family’s mansion talking with your parents about your current situation and you could see that judging look on their faces, mentally returning in those times when you was a little guilty kid who broke something or get a complaint from your teacher. At first they even tried to completely ignore your whole existence without saying a word or giving any glance at your side, but it seems like over time they reconciled with the idea that in a short amount of time they’ll become grandparents.

~ you both reach an agreement that you better to stay in Piltover, to not let rumors spread all over the undercity and to interfere his enemies to use you in their hatred and plans about him. That was the motive of why you needed to stop paying him visits no matter of the purpose. You stayed in your family mansion with his loyal people almost always keeping an eye on you and ensuring that your wishes and orders are fulfilled.

~ even tho he cannot be with you by obvious reasons during your hard times he regularly visits you to make sure that you’re doing well often fulfilling whims of his dear girl and the tiny creature, that develops inside of her. But mostly first one, massaging slightly swollen areas of your body, talking you through nausea and frequent dizziness in your head and, of course, spoiling you. Anything that slips through your conversation be it some kind of jewelry, hobby or food you can later found delivered right to your room with a beautifully written note that makes a smile on your face bloom leaving cheeks painted pink.

~ despite the fact that he doesn’t show it he really cares for your child and you can tell it by his hand that sometimes rests on your belly and suggestions about how it would be better for the baby to listen to your voice or music even if it didn’t form into an embryo yet. Also was the one who insisted on a complete change in your diet consuming more plant foods and animal protein even if you struggle with one of it he’ll make sure you eat it.

~ secretly he wants and honestly waits for another girl, thinking about how Jinx will take care of her younger sister, protecting and spending time together, even tho he’s a little bit afraid of her influence. In the end one hyperactive kid who likes to get into troubles is enough for him. But he hopes that mostly you’ll be the one to frequent with a child at least because he’s too busy and, for his own taste, too old to mess around with a noisy little creature who needs to be watched all the time.

~ when the childbirth finally comes he’s informed immediately after the water broke, by your maid, a woman who had worked for him for lots of years and as soon as this man is free from his duties as the ruler of the whole city he’ll rush to you to be by your side during the parturition. He probably will not be allowed to come near you so he would just sit there waiting for your pain and screams of suffering to be over as soon as possible.

~ holding a little boy on his hands he feels range of emotions while the child surprisingly calmly looks at him studying with its curious blue ocean eyes, just like his own. As if for a split second the whole world had shrunk, leaving no one in it except him and this little one just to observe, figure out how exactly to feel about each other: fear, concern… love? But after a moment passed he was already standing there, holding the small, fragile creature closer to his chest.

~ despite him not loving you in a conventional way, it seems like he developed really warm feelings towards you as one of his closest people, the one whom he values. You were his business partner, a mother of his child who mostly had the same goals as he — protect his son for any cost and give anything to raise him properly, as a person he himself could never be on the streets of his city. Sometimes, while sharing so rare and precious moments of your child peacefully sleeping together, you’d understand him better often comforting him even if he didn’t ask for it, while your head rests on his shoulder or your fingers find his.

~ it took a lot of efforts, mostly from your parents’ side, to finally arrange the marriage appealing on the fact that many people, including other prominent families that was respected by yours, won’t accept this child as an heir without an official confirmation. Through his discontent, annoyed sights and frowning eyebrows he ended up signing all the required papers making you his dear wife, as he often called you. And although it did not give any benefits to either you or him, many from the Council and Chem barons wanted to find leverage and establish control over the other side, but so far without any success.

Few years later

Man was sitting in his office overwhelmed with a pile of papers on his desk and a boy on his lap, who was drawing something in his own notebook which cover was painted and signed with his name with his favorite crayons. Pink and blue. Of course, following his sister in every way possible, but at least his fears were in vain. Even tho boy wanted to imitate his older sibling in many things he was calmer and much more sensible than many children his age, probably thanking to his father’s genetics and education, but it didn’t mean that sometimes he wasn’t capricious just like his mother.

— When will mom return? — the boy asked raising his big-eyed gaze to man’s face.

He sighed on this question. His dear wife was attending a meeting which was related to the family business, now fully belonged to her after her parents’ retirement. As was planned from the very beginning she was the one who took care of their child, sometimes resorting to Jinx’ help who was more than happy to assist. She perceived the girl, who was supposed to be her stepmother as a close friend, often visiting mansion and lingering there for a long time hanging around with her, to his own astonishment and relief.

— I don’t know. — man answers honestly. — Why? You don’t like it here?

Kid continued to stare at his father whom he looked so much like, with his dark hair and light blue eyes, looked at everyone around them inquiringly and at the same time warily. After some time spend with his older parent he even started to emulate man’s behavior and expression, ordering around to a bunch of his nannies which left his mother in touching awe. His blood, his heir who, as he sincerely hopes, will never see his people, people of Zaun in poverty, the one for whom he and his darling partner have to work even harder to achieve their common goals before these child’s eyes could see a cruelty of this two-faced world.

— I like being with you and mom.

He felt his heart melting from such a simple words of his child, this innocent little one who loved him with all heart. Smiling, he leaned over to boy’s forehead leaving a kiss and pulling him closer to his chest. His little family, people for whom he could easily give his life away if he’d need to, who cared for him no matter what, that’s something definitely worth fighting for.