#but again that will be a whole other post

[loredwy]

And lets be honest, even if their bans were really trying to focus explicit content then theyre still not working. If they really were directed at porn so badly, we wouldnt be looking at tons of it on tumblr, twitter and other social medias while trying to not get banned accidentally for saying "boob" in a post.

Even if their intentions were "good", if their system fails horribly at it we still can be upset! surprise!

“Why are you so upset about adult content bans? You don’t even post that stuff. can’t you just look at porn somewhere else?”

Well, you see, I have this small problem where my very existence is considered adult content by a small but very powerful group of people and I actually rather enjoy being able to exist in public without restriction so uhhhh put that in your bong and smoke it kiddo.

[five-rivers]

Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.

.

Interdimensional travel was hard.

It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.

"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"

"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.

"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.

"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."

"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."

"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.

"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."

"Then they ought not to summon you."

While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."

"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."

Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."

"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."

"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."

The Observants were silent.

"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"

The Observants scattered.

Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.

Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.

.

"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."

"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.

Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."

"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."

Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."

"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"

"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."

Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."

Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."

"You mean my Ghost King form."

"All your forms are your Ghost King form."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.

"It freaks people out, though."

"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."

"Is that likely?"

"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."

Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into

"You can do more than that."

"I can?"

"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."

.

The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.

This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.

They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.

And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.

The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.

It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.

Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzgûm nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"

Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"

"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"

"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"

"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"

"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."

"Hagthu. Nghftùsh ngngi ùk nî chthe kûmpù nû gâ. (6)"

"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.

The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"

"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.

"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"

"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."

Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.

"Ku. Chthal lohúfhâk hagthu. Fhta nghftùsh kâk phlorza ko thru. (9)"

"What did it say?" asked Batman.

"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."

Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.

"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"

"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."

"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"

"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."

A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...

"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.

The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"

"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."

"And just us, not our kids or anything?"

"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"

"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"

"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.

"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"

"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"

"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."

"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"

"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."

"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"

"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."

And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.

"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.

The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.

"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."

For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.

There was a burst of blinding light.

When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.

"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."

"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.

"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"

I've been summoned.

You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...

I can. You can't.

Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.

I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.

Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.

Close enough.

Figures (literally, 'certainly').

Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.

I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).

No! It's like being a parent.

Yes, one.

I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?

No! Gross!

No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).

[everythingne]

little miss wingwoman (3) - ln4

You meet the Norris family, Penelope drops by for a surprise visit, and luckily Christmas Eve goes off without a hitch. Thanks to your amazing skills in everything that comes with being a nanny.

warnings/notes: I, once again, am posting christmas after christmas and i don't care <3 happy hanukkah by the way!! also shout out to my brother who inspired the whole 'athena falling asleep' bit here bc he did this w my baby cousin on christmas eve

(prev | next)

Lando is welcoming in his siblings while you're in the process of finishing up a quick little Christmas Eve dinner. They'd requested nothing crazy, so you'd scoured the internet to find a simple chicken dish, and had Lando go out to buy some games to play with the family. His siblings had all been on the same flight, but with a little rain systems coming through Monaco, his parents flight had been delayed a few hours.

Meaning, you got to be eased into meeting your roommate of barely a weeks family, and spending the holidays with them.

As you finally set down some tin foil over the last few sides, sliding them in the oven on a preheat setting to keep everything warm until Lando's parents arrived, Oliver and Flo poke around the corner to look at you.

You don't notice them studying the way you flow through Lando's kitchen, you're too busy counting over the names Lando had told you--Oliver, Flo, and Cisca, his siblings, you think in that order with Lando ahead of Flo. Then, Savannah, Lando's sister-in-law, and his two nieces Mila and Athena. His parents, Cisca and Adam, though you can't imagine calling them anything other than Mr and Mrs. Norris.

"Oh, guys," Lando's tone is full of smiles, proudly waving an arm to you as you turn around and discard your oven mitts onto the counter, "This is my roommate, Yn."

"Ah!" Oliver smiles, Athena in his hands sraring up at you with wonder in her eyes, "This is the roommate I've heard so much about."

"Oh, god, I hope all good things?" You step around Lando to properly greet each sibling, Savannah, and the girls.

"Lando talks about you a lot." Cisca teases softly, looking over at her brother, who flushed and quickly asked what everyone wanted to drink--safely deterring the conversation. Above everyones scurrying heads into the kitchen, you meet Lando's eyes, and find you can't look away as he crinkles up in a smile before turning to find cups for everyone.

A bit later, Lando runs out to go collect his parents from Nice's airport, leaving you with the siblings. Mila and Athena have taken to exploring the living room under their parents watchful eye as you scour for a good Christmas movie for them--settling on the Grinch after a while, just to have it on in the background. You can tell Athena's getting ready for a nap, but with so much excitement and noise, she seems to be struggling to settle down. Savannah seems a bit flustered, so you take a seat with her on the couch while Flo and Cisca sneak some cookies in the kitchen and gossip.

"So," Oliver starts, "We spent so long catching up with Lando, I never had a chance to ask anything about you."

"Oh, Sorry!" Savannah calls, turning to place a hand on your knee, "Don't want you to feel left out!"

"Don't apologize, it's alright! He's your brother and you said, Savannah, the last time you saw him was Goodwood, which was--what, July?" You say, watching as Cisca and Flo come to the living room, sitting down with their nieces and their toys by the big windows. Savannah offering the girls a thankful smile for taking them off her hands for the time being.

"Yeah, it's been a while." Flo hums, "And Cis and I didn't even see him at Goodwood, we saw him at Silverstone."

"He's so busy with racing, I see why but I still worry for him. He's still just the boy he was when we were young and running amuck through the woods in the middle of nowhere. He had no friends back then, and I worry he isolates himself here too, just blames it on being busy." Oliver leans back, running a hand across his head. You can see the worry for a baby brother he's watched grow clear in his eyes, and Savannah soothes a hand across his shoulders in comfort.

You hum softly, "He's got Max. And Oscar, Charles... Carlos, Alex and George, though I guess George is in London now... a lot of the drivers live close--we actually bought them presents for Christmas. He's got all of Quadrant too."

"And you," Flo prompts, looking up from where Athena tries to grab onto her hair.

"Yeah," you breathe out, turning to Oliver, "And me."

"How'd you meet?" Savannah asks and you smile.

"Max Verstappen, his 'bonus daughter' Penelope is the girl I nanny. I've worked for Kelly since Penelope was maybe three or four months, actually. Just an extra set of hands for her, but now I'm sort of like a housekeep? I watch the apartment when they're gone, cook, clean, help them keep track of everything--the two of them are also so busy." You laugh softly, watching as Athena uses the table to toddle her way over to her parents, Savannah picking up the sleepy toddler and laying her on her chest.

"But, with their baby on the way, the room I was living in is turning into a nursery. They didn't want to move, especially with a whole baby coming, so they helped me find a new place to live. Luckily, I knew Lando... kinda... we never really spoke much before but Penelope adores him so I've been out with Penelope at races or even in Monaco, and run into him."

Savannah watches as Athena scoots out of her hold and climbs across the couch, the curious toddler now taking up space in your lap as you wrap up your explanation, and a place a hand on her back, "So, Lando let me move in. I've pretty much transformed his entire apartment in exchange for the rent he's covering for me."

"I was going to say, it looks a lot better than the last time I was here." Oliver chuckles, Savannah countering with, "Yes, it does. A woman's touch was needed for sure."

"Lando kept asking us all about how to live with a girl," Cisca looks over her shoulder, watching as Flo and Mila move to join you on the couch. Little Athena snuggling into the warm of your hold as you move back.

"I told him it was just like living with sisters," Oliver rolls his eyes, "but he was insistent there was a way to do it wrong."

You laugh softly, imaging the way that he had probably begged for some sort of advice over the phone with his siblings, gently rocking a fussy Athena--who has been refusing her nap since she'd gotten into the apartment almost two hours ago now.

You speak softly, to keep the girl from waking up as she nearly is sleeping, "There really isn't, and I've been moving around so much my whole life I don't really have a set way to live. I kinda just adapt."

Before you can say anything else, the front door opens, and Lando announces he's back. Savannah lifts Athena, who whines, clinging to your shirt, and you shake her off, "I can take her, if it's okay."

"Sure, if it's fine. I wouldn't wanna wake her so close to her falling asleep. Athena loves to cuddle, she's a clinger," Savannah laughs softly, brushing her daughters wild curly hair back. You nod, holding her the way Savannah instructs--missing when Penelope used to be this tiny in your arms.

Lando's parents--Adam and Cisca, are happily talking with their children when you round the corner into the kitchen. Everyone turns with your presence, smiling at the sight of Athena curled in your arms, Mrs. Norris audibly aweing at the scene as you smile.

"Hi, it's really lovely to meet you both," You say softly, stepping over so they can give you hugs and greet their granddaughter who refuses to come out of the comfort she'd found nestled in your chest.

"I'll get the food out," Lando says, "I imagine you're all starving,"

"God, please." Flo whines, Oliver going to help his brother. You linger with the Norris parents in the hall, smiling softly as Athena lets out little snores against the warm fabric of your sweater. Savannah long gone after being dragged off by Mila.

Mrs. Norris moves into the kitchen, laughing as she scolds her sons for stealing bits of food while they bring everything out. The stack of bags and gifts flow down the hall now, the jackets and shoes overflowing the racks, and you can't help but smile at the liveliness of the once empty apartment.

"You're a real charmer," Adam says after a second and your attention is drawn to Mr. Norris. He grins, "Haven't seen Lando this organized in years."

You laugh softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Athena's back, "It's the least I could do for him, considering he won't let me pay rent. He's been really kind to let me live here."

"That's Lando for ya," Adam looks at his son in the kitchen, helping Mila get seated at the table, "He'd give you the skin off his back if he could."

As if sensing you both looking at him, Lando's head perks up, scowling as he comes over. He takes his father's jacket out of his hands and urges him to go get a plate of the food you'd 'slaved over' making all day in the kitchen. You can't help but giggle as he shoos away his father's knowing smile and wave as he goes to join his wife and kids.

"Thanks for saving this whole holiday," Lando looks over at you, catching the way you're already looking at him. A soft smile gracing your lips as you sway the toddler in your arms.

"Your family is lovely," you reply softly, "I'm glad I could do something for them."

Lando's quiet for a moment, the both of you just watching eachother. Turning back when Flo and Cisca start cracking up over some teasing thing Mrs. Norris is saying as Oliver scowls and rebukes whatever she's saying.

"Do you want a plate?" Lando says, "I can get mine last."

"No no, wouldn't want to wake Athena. I can always heat it up after she wakes." You wave a hand, and Lando nods, stepping closer to wipe a crumb off your cheek and brush a piece of hair back into place before Flo calls him over. You wave him on and he goes, making a spectacle about making his way back to the group.

Slowly, you make your way back into the living room, slowly sinking down on the couch and getting comfortable with Athena still snoring in your arms. And as the Norris' carry on in the kitchen, you can help but lay your head back on the cushions, cuddling in to the comfiest position you can find.

You fall asleep around the point Martha May announces her love for the Grinch, and right before Flo brings out Uno for the group at the table to play.

Lando comes over about twenty minutes later, pausing when he sees you knocked out. The rest of the family peeking around the corner as Lando grabs a blanket from the chair in the corner and walks over to where you are--Athena still snuggling into your hold. He gently drapes the blanket over the two of you, grabbing a pillow to lay under your head so your neck isn't killing you in the morning, and just takes a pause to sit next to you.

His eyes travel down your hair, to your closed eyes, parted lips, the soft breaths that leave you. The way Athena has tucked herself against your chest like she just knows you're safety, that you know how to take care of her. He lifts the blanket a little higher, resists the urge to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, and stands.

No one moves fast enough for him to not catch them staring.

"Looked like you were gonna kiss her for a second," His father chimes. Lando feels heat rise to his cheeks as his siblings laugh and he just waves away their comments as he comes back to play the game with them.

When Athena stumbles in to cuddle her mom about thirty minutes later, he peeks out to see you still asleep on the couch and tilts his head. Oliver leaning on the wall leaning into the living room as Lando steps forward, tucks his arms underneath you and carefully lifts you. It's not graceful by any means, but when your eyes flutter and you settle in as he holds his breath, Oliver bites his lip to keep himself from laughing at Lando.

"I'll get the door." Oliver says, nodding his head to where the spare bedroom is. His whole family pretends not to see him nearly whack your head into the wall when he brings you into your room and lays you on the bed. Mrs. Norris does come to ensure her son has you tucked in properly, with the blinds lowered to block out the setting sun as you curl up in your bed.

"Poor thing, she's absolutely knackered." She hums, waving Oliver out of the room as Lando sheepishly rubs his neck, walking over to her.

"She cooked all day, and we've spent the week decorating everything," his voice is soft as he looks over at your sleeping form in the bed, before his mother pulls him out of the room to shut the door.

"Well, she did a wonderful job." She winks knowingly at him, earning a shy laugh from Lando as she brings him back over to the table to keep playing games.

You do manage to get up and freshen up around nine, after his family has left to sleep off their jetlag. Lando's sitting on the couch with--surprisingly to you, Penelope.

"Max dropped her off, he and Kelly have dinner with their parents and P was supposedly exhausted." Lando pokes the girls cheek, but you can see she's clearly wide awake, sheepishly smiling up at you as you chuckle to yourself.

"I'm sure she was," You chime, sitting down at the counter as Penelope climbs up to sit next to you, leaning on you and looking up at you through her long lashes.

"I just didn't wanna go." Penelope admits softly, "All everyone's been talking about is the baby. I don't care about the stupid baby, I wish it was just me again, and I didn't have to fight this little thing in my Mommy's belly for some attention."

You hum, rubbing a hand up and down Penelope's back. She'd been complaining to you about the baby since you'd gotten back to Monaco, and you'd brought it up to Max and Kelly already. From the time spent in their apartment with them, you knew it wasn't their fault Penelope was feeling this way--after her first complaint. They'd both apologized to her, and explained it to her, and after that Penelope had been fine for a while.

But having every single person in your extended family fawning over the unborn baby in your mothers stomach--buying him tons of gifts and clothes, things Penelope was used to be doted onto her, the shift had to feel weird.

"Max and Kelly still love you," it's Lando who chimes from the couch, groaning as he stands up and stretched out his shoulders, "It's been hard for them with the baby coming, and you know how much the baby needs."

Penelope nods and you pout. Usually, Christmas Eve was reserved for the Verstappen-Piquets to spend the entire night together. But it seemed every one of their traditions had been tossed aside.

"How about this," you say softly, "I have some stuff left over to bake. Why don't you, Lando, and I make some cookies for Santa, hm? We can leave them out at your apartment when I drop you off."

Penelope does light up at that and agrees, so as Lando helps her get supplies, you finish shoveling your dinner into your mouth before standing to help them with baking.

By the end of it, after Penelope's roped you and Lando into a flour fight you know is going to be a disaster to clean up, you and Lando end up carrying up a sleeping Penelope and a plate of cookies. Max laughs softly at the sight of the three of you covered in flour, and Kelly thanks you both for staying up later to watch her.

When you return to Lando's apartment, the two of you elect to finish watching whatever movie is playing on the tv. And the quiet moment, broken by occasionally showing each other something on your phones or asking questions about this absolutely absurd 80s christmas movie, just fills the home with a sense of warmth you aren't expecting to feel.

It almost makes you not want to go to bed, but alas, the Norris' are coming back over in the morning, so you two duck off to bed eventually--hesitating to part due to the invisible magnet that holds you close.

SEE NOTES ABOUT TAG LISTS BELOW:

general tag list (open, tagged in all my fics, will not update for this series. If you'd like to be added to my general list FOR this series, let me know and I'll tag you in the comments!

@d3kstar @justalittlejess @tvdtw4ever @llando4norris @daemyratwst @piastri-fvx @sltwins

series specific tag (closed BUT SEE BELOW!!)

@nikfigueiredo @ilovechickenwings @supertrashbread @sltwins @mwuaferrari @si1ver06 @linnygirl09 @kikiki81 @kittylolly4 @lazybot @tylerstacobell @formula1fordisaster @sheblogs @suns3treading @kqliie @jxnellat @anxiousbananna @hard4ndsoft @majasophieanna @diorbrxtz @freyathehuntress @obxstiles @cstads-blog @wierdflowerpower @delululeclerc @honethatty12 @henna006 @chlmtfilms @littlegrapejuice @piastrams @ravisinghs-wife @sturmatt @sagestack @bravo-delta-eccho @eiffel-hood @widow-cevans @ash88-yep @emryb @changetyre @raynetargaryan2 @callsignsiren @mayusaatma @sid-is-gr8  @awritingtree @urstepdaughter @4-ln4

TO BE TAGGED IN COMMENTS OF EACH NEW CHAPTER:

@celestrablack @hadids-world @keij0h @annimausi

(thank you to all the new people (and my return readers ofc), and everyone who has left such kind words!! happy holidays to you all <3)

[creamecafe]

Heyyy there I saw your post about allowing a request for various squid game characters. Can I request Hwang In-ho/front man?

Partner! Reader x Hwang In-ho/Front man

Like s/o doesn't know anything about the games and In-ho just have a whole nother identity just for her. She knows that In-ho goes on a business trip for 7 days and then comes back like nothing happens. And just before In-ho leaves for the "business trip" they have fluff moments and In-ho tries his best to keep her out of his other life

🫶🫶🫶

Secrets I have held in my heart

Summary: What the requests says

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho x GN!Reader

Warnings: none just fluff and maybe feelings of guilt, bathing together but it's NOT smut

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it! I also tried making my own dividers. It's not the best, but if I make one that's decent I'll post them for people to use

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

Hwang In-Ho was an interesting man. But he was yours. Your friends and family say they find him to be scary or something off about him. But you can't see him anything else than what he is, a caring husband who makes sure to provide well for you.

He tells you that his job is working at a sales company of always testing new products for people and surveying so you really thought nothing of it. Majority of the time he would go on business trips for at least a week. He never told you where he was going but you never wanted to bother him so much.

It was three days before he left and he always made sure to spend all his time with you. Taking you out to eat at your favorite place, watching your favorite movies, cooking and taking naps together.

Doing these things with you made him happy, but he also felt bad about lying about his work to you. He knew that your perspective and love would change because of that.

He didn't want to lose you because of that. But he also couldn't lose his job.

Today was the last day he would be spending time with you and he wants to make the most of it. You woke up with breakfast in bed. Your favorite.

"Don't worry about work sweetheart, I called in sick for you."

You smiled knowing you were really going to spend the day with him together

After you finish your breakfast, you two would take a warm bath together. Nothing sexual, just you two holding each other and making small talk.

Then it would be you guys just watching TV and cuddling with each other.

He really loves you so much. It was hard keeping his double life from you. But all that mattered was that you were safe and anything that you knew could put you in danger.

A few hours have passed and he ordered take out on your favorite restaurant. There it was again, just talking and him saying he's going to miss you

Before you knew it, it was time for you both to go to sleep. You were sad knowing that the next morning he would be gone.

Both of you guys were wrapped up in each other, cuddling and innocence of you two sleeping together meant so much to him.

The next morning came and he had to get ready to leave. You helped him prepare the stuff he needed, suits, snacks, and a goodbye kiss.

"Promise you'll text me everyday to at least make sure you're alight?"

"I promise my darling."

Both of you smiled at this and kissed each other as he was heading to his taxi. He looked back at you and waved to you.

You waved back and soon the car drove off.

When he was in the car, he pulled out his phone with a text message asking if he was on his way. He responded and then took something out of the pocket from his jacket. It was a picture of you. It would at least be a reminder of everything he's doing for you to have the best life possible even if you didn't know.

It would be a few hours before he had to put his love aside for you and keep focus on the bigger picture.

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[randomwordzard]

cool take!!!

in my mind, traveller got their name after stopping Exile, and it's Helper, as people recognize them as the one who helped

(I do like how the glyphs show the unique perspectives on traveller tho)

The Traveller

So Chants of Sennaar is a good game-

[4milly]

mws - jey uso.

parings: jey uso x black!reader

warnings: smut, cursing, arguing, use of n word, car sex, unprotected sex, my man, my girl, but not my man or my girl trope, praise kink, talking you through it lawd,

the message made you roll your eyes so hard you thought they might've got stuck.

“this man really called me a crybaby,” you muttered under your breath, already feeling your annoyance bubbling up.

from the day he set foot into your life, all he did was keep up with the dramatics. being extra and shit about any ole thing. this time? he was irritated about you still following your ex on instagram. fed up with the conversation, you blocked him. he could send novels to your messages by himself.

mind you, it was jey who decided not to be official yet. he was a busy man, and you respected that. being on the road damn near everyday out the year was taxing; trying to be in a relationship wouldn't work. but he couldn't let go of you.

you sighed so deep you swore your soul left your body for a hot minute. this man really had the audacity to pull up unannounced, acting like you were the problem. you peeped out the window and sure enough, there was his black range rover parked across the street, engine still running.

"lord give me strength," you mumbled, huffing and flopping on the couch. slipping on your hot pink ugg slides and grabbing your keys. just as you were about to close your eyes and pretend you ain't see shit, jey layed on his horn.

you weren't about to let the neighbors get a show, so you stepped outside, locking the door behind you. you knew how exaggerated jey could be; if he didn't get his way, no doubt he'd blow his horn all night to get your attention. and at this time of night? you'd be out by morning.

the passenger seat of jey's car flung open before you could hit the side walk. you quickly got in, slamming the door behind you, "how many times did your mama drop you as a fucking baby? are you crazy? blowing your horn and shit? what if someone called the po—"

"mane, ion give one fuck 'bout that shit. you got me fucked up." he seethed throwing his hands in the air.

you rolled your eyes again, matching his frustration,"I got you fucked up? Nah, you got me fucked up. you really pulled up to my place at 2am over what? some likes?"

jey's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white, "so you fuckin' him again? thats whatchu' on now, mama? fuck outta here 'bout some likes and shit. how you think i feel? seein' another motherfucka all under yo pictures leaving heart eyes?"

your head snapped backwards in disbelief, "that's rich coming from you! how many bitches under your pictures, jey? where's my phone at? let me go count em'."

"i aint responding back with no fuckin' hearts and shit tho! thats the shit im talkin' bout!"

the tension in the car was thick enough to cut with a knife. jey's eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but you could see the storm brewing behind them. you knew this man well enough to know his blood was boiling.

your jaw dropped, heat rising to your cheeks. "excuse me? y'know what? you wanna talk about crybaby shit? how about you mad as fuck right now going through my page to find something? you're throwing a whole ass tantrum over a follow!"

"and you blocked me right? but, you can't block that motherfucka tho? thats some bullshit and you know it!" jey spat, his jaw clenched. honestly? he didn't even know what he was more mad it. you blocking him, still following your ex, liking each other's post, or you coming out the house in those little ass shorts.

was he terrible for being upset at all 4?

it irked something inside of him. you weren't his girl...yet. but still, it's a respect issue. he knew he was yours, and unless you forgot, you knew you were his. there wasn't room for anybody else no matter what you thought.

"oh, so now you wanna act brand new? like you ain't been doing the same shit?" you snapped, pulling out your phone. "let's see…tiffany, amber, and how many other people—all up in your comments 'lord he could get it.' 'till the room stinks.' 'till the earth-fuckin'-quakes.' but I'm the problem?"

jey snatched the phone from your hand, tossing it in the backseat. "don't flip this stupid shit on me. so thats what this is? yo crybaby ass wanted to get back at me, so you followed his ass again? all up in his business for what? ian texting you back fast enough or sum?"

you were fuming, everything about him grating on your nerves. you were so over it, over him acting like you were the one causing problems when he was just as messy.

part of jey knew he was being petty, but it didn’t stop the heat rising in his veins. he hated seeing you follow your ex, hated the way you acted like he was the only one with a damn problem.

"i ain't competing with nobody, especially not for a man who can't even claim me. you think you deserve me why?"

"you want me to claim you? ight. c'mere." jey growled before crashing his lips into yours.

your protest was muffled against jey's lips as he kissed you fiercely, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other gripping the front. his tongue demanded entry. the kiss was everything the argument was. rough and fiery.

"get inna back," he growled, breaking the kiss to undo his belt buckle, "you ain't hear me? now."

you hesitated for a moment, torn between desire and indecisiveness. part of you wanted to get out the car and leave him here, but the smoldering look in his eyes made the decision for you. you scrambled over the center console, your shorts riding up as you climbed into the backseat.

jey followed, his muscular frame towering over you. "been turnt wit' my ass all fuckin' morning. yo crybaby ass. you wanted this shit too. and you better take it all, none of that runnin' shit."

his large hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide. he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them down along with your panties in one swift motion.

he tossed your shorts in the front, before shoving your panties into your mouth, "pretty ass. just wanted to get yo pussy ate didn't you, mama."

he slid down your body, kissing his way across your chest to your stomach until he rested between your thighs.

his large hands gripped your plush thighs, pulling you towards his mouth. he instantly sucked your throbbing bud into his mouth. you let out a muffled gasp before arching your back upwards.

"you taste so fuckin' good, mama. love tastin' her ass. wish you stop talkin' so damn much," he groaned out into the air.

his tongue worked magic, flicking and swirling around your most sensitive spots. you squirmed against the leather seats, muffled moans escaping around the fabric in your mouth.

the noises you made as his tongue swirled your swollen clit, locking your fingers into his thick hair, wanting to grind against his hot tongue but he was a step ahead—pinning you down with his arms.

jey alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue, building you higher and higher. just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he slid two thick fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spongy spot inside of you.

he doubled his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as his fingers pumped relentlessly. the dual sensation was overwhelming, and within moments you were trembling on the edge of release.

his wet muscle sliding into your awaiting hole, fucking you with it was enough to send you over. you came with a muffled scream, your body shaking as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

your body thrashed around the seats to escape from his mouth, "let me goooo," you let out a muffle whine, barely even comprehensive.

you pushed at his arms around your waist. jey had an end goal; he wasn't going to let you leave that damn car till his point was proven. you were his.

his girl.

that instagram following shit? it was over tonight. and he was gonna make the clear anyway he could...or had to.

he licked your pussy clean as more juices erupted from your pussy, giving him something to drink on. you were going crazy. you couldn't thrashing away from him, unable to remain still as pleasure hit your body in waves. your lower half worked against the strokes of his fingers; riding them into oblivion. your juices continuously flowing down into his mouth like a waterfall.

but with his dick getting hard? watching you attempt to push him away with tears in your eyes? no-one was leaving this car anytime soon.

you came with a muffled scream, your body shaking as waves of ecstasy crashed over you, "lil’ angry ass...get it all out, baby," he pressed his tongue flat against your pussy causing your body to shutter and gush into his mouth.

"c'mere. crybaby ass just needed some dick, so move it. lemme see how much you want it," he laid against the seat, pulling your arms to move you on-top of him.

his strong hands gripped your hips, positioning you over his thick length. you could feel the heat radiating off him, his dick twitching against your inner thigh. jey's eyes locked with yours, intense and hungry, "take whatchu' need from me, baby."

you reached between you, taking his girth into your small hand. you positioned him at your entrance and slowly eased down onto him. a small whimper left your throat as he pushed his dick into your warm heat in a swift movement.

"ride me, mama. show me how much you want this dick," he encouraged before locking his arms around your waist. the burn of his dick stretching your walls long gone by now.

no-one was stupid. had any of your neighbors looked out the window, they knew exactly what was going on. the car rocking up and down, from him slamming your hips onto him, and the fog clouding the windows. you could draw your name on it.

"faster, baby." he demanded, bucking his hips up to meet yours. tears pooled at your eyes even though you obliged, picking up the pace. the car filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin on skin. jey's hands slid down to grip your ass, helping you bounce on him.

your thighs burned as you rode him harder, desperate for release. jey's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass, guiding your movements. the car rocked with each thrust, the windows completely fogged over now. his dick kissing your cervix with each thrust. your wetness drenched his dick, making him slide in and out so easy.

your pussy started to twitch, as his dick massaged your walls, continuously bouncing in his lap, making his dick kiss your cervix, and making note to squeeze when you reached his tip.

suddenly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, locking you in place. "my turn," he growled before locking his arms around your lower back stilling your movements.

tears began to stain your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. with your bodies pressed together, jey began to ride you from the bottom. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your pussy fluttered around him. a smirk plastered across his face, he felt your pussy clenching around him. he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

"so damn pretty on top of me. you mines, right?," he cooed, his hips never stopping their relentless pace. he reached up to pull your panties from your mouth. you through your head back, letting out a loud cry to the roof of the car, "you mines, ain't you? say it."

you could barely form words, lost in the sensation of him riding you from the bottom. "i-i'm yours," you managed to gasp out between thrusts.

the sight of jey's dick coated in a white sheer layer made his head spin, "say that shit louder, baby. let everyone know who fuckin' you right now."

"i'm yours!" you moaned out. a smirk plastered over his face before pulling you to him by the back of your neck into a searing kiss, "i'm yours, too."

he was losing himself under you, his strokes were becoming erratic. the sensation sending the coil in your belly overboard. you creamed all over his thickness, clamping down on him. the move triggering his own release.

he gripped your ass, his hips bucking upwards, emptying ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of you—filling you to the brim with his seed. you both swallowed each other's moans. the moment was...new. you had an unanswered question in the air.

but either way? you both knew you only had eachother.

ᰔ:

@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @luvrsluxe @uceyliyahh @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @acknowledge-reigns @southerngirl41 @prettyfilmz @jaza23

don’t forget to like and reblog! leave me a comment also. i love reading those. xoxo, cleo🩷.

[eriyu]

i noticed a while back that Lyse, Alisaie, and Tataru seemed to be the only characters who say "maybe" regularly (as opposed to "perhaps" or "mayhap"). and a Reddit discussion about dialogue this morning made me go overboard again.

uhhhhh do with this information what you will?

if anyone has requests for other characters or other words; i can easily come up with their numbers too! (or you can grab the regex firefox extension i use here)

specifically, the Reddit post i saw was about how XIV's dialogue (or at least the English localization) has gotten simpler and blander over time — not just in Dawntrail, not just as part of the overall Dawntrail hate, but as early as Shadowbringers.

it's not something i've thought about a whole lot to have a strong opinion on tbh. but it did make me remember this thought about "maybe" i'd had in the past, and i wanted to crunch the numbers to see if i could learn anything. and my footnotes at the end are my notes to that effect.

Alphinaud, G'raha, and Estinien starting to use maybe could be a case study in XIV's dialogue becoming blander. or it could be a way of showing that they've become more relaxed as people, and more comfortable within the party. either way, i just thought tumblr might like this info!

[artuurle]

"I have hands for building altars Lips to pray to reckless gods Yeah, I was made to be a devotee " " Won't someone teach me to love without it swallowing me whole, If to be loved is to be changed, I'm only worsenin' " you can see where i gave up on this but WHATEVAH. i usually work in doodles and sketches for a reason lol.

[dorian-they]

and here’s a list from someone who’s made it thru more than 20 years of incapacitating suicidal depression:

- eat some food. I don’t care what it is. Eat it. Any food is better than no food. Preferably with some protein in it but idgaf. Food. Eat it.

- water. Drink it. Put it in a fucking mason jar or some other large container so you don’t have to get up and refill it. Use a fucking vase or tupperware or slurp it from a trough like a fuckin horse for all I care. Water. Large. Drink it.

- whenever you wake up, grab all the food/water you might wanna have for the whole day and put it wherever you’re setting up camp. Doing this when you have the most spoons available is crucial to steps 1 & 2

- pull-tab canned foods are your best friends. keep some cans & utensils by your bed for days when that’s your camp. Best options are gonna be fruits or veggies or protein, but again, any food is better than no food.

- put a toothbrush and/or floss within arm’s reach of your bed and/or wherever you usually set up camp when you’re awake. Scrub it around in your mouth whenever you remember to do it. If you have like $7 to spare, order some Parodontax active gum repair toothpaste online so you can continue eating food with the assistance of your teeth.

- take a daily multivitamin. Get the gummy kind if you want. Most multivitamins will get the job done but if you can spare the brain power to look at the ingredients just make sure it has several types of vitamin B (helps with depression). This will help your body feel less like microwaved shit and you’ll also feel less guilty about the types of food you’re able to get yourself to eat. Less guilty and less shit-feeling body are good. You can even order the vitamins online so you don’t have to remember to pick them up at the store or even leave your house

- do not guilt yourself about showering. Showering is a massive energy drain. Do it when you can, but that’s not the priority. Alive is the priority. Food, water, and having teeth to eat said-food with comes first. Aesthetics do not. If your body is smelly and it’s annoying you but not enough to shower about it, use a wet washcloth to wipe down the area or just slap on some deodorant and call it good. Dry shampoo is also a lifesaver if your hair gets oily

-if you’re not going out, wear the same comfy clothes every day. Or, if you can, just be naked, who cares. Decision fatigue is real and so is fabric sensitivity. Don’t overwork your brain with unnecessary shit. Again, not the priority.

- give yourself regular dopamine hits. watch a stupid video. eat a snack you like. play a few rounds of a cute mindless phone game. read a silly story. watch a show or movie or listen to a song you like, even just in the background. And yes, you still enjoy these things even though your brain hates everything rn. Go get your dopamine hits.

- and speaking of dopamine: if you aren’t sex repulsed, daily masturbation is basically self-serve serotonin and the happy chemicals still work even if you don’t get off so it’s worth it even if that’s a struggle. Plus if you do it before bedtime it can also help you fall asleep.

- lastly, if you manage to do any of these things in any way, shape, or form, take 2 seconds to literally congratulate yourself and/or physically pat yourself on the back/shoulder. Yes, I’m fucking serious. No I don’t care how small the task was. Say aloud or in your head “good job, [your name].” or if that feels too stupid just say “welp you didn’t wanna do that but you did it and now it’s done.” Just any way to acknowledge you did A Thing and now it is Done. Because unlike neurotypicals you have to coax your feral kitten of a brain into giving you happy chemicals after completing tasks. So congratulate yourself. Coax the cat.

if you managed to make it to the end of this, congrats on reading a long ass post about taking care of yourself. You didn’t have to read this, but you did, and now you’ve got some ideas about what might work for you or what won’t work for you. Good job, bud. I’m really glad you care about yourself enough that you took the time to read this

depression tips™

shower. not a bath, a shower. use water as hot or cold as u like. u dont even need to wash. just get in under the water and let it run over you for a while. sit on the floor if you gotta.

moisturize everything. use whatever lotion u like. unscented? dollar store lotion? fancy ass 48 hour lotion that makes u smell like a field of wildflowers? use whatever you want, and use it all over. 

put on clean, comfortable clothes. 

put on ur favorite underwear. cute black lacy panties? those ridiculous boxers u bought last christmas with candy cane hearts on the butt? put em on.

drink cold water. use ice. if u want, add some mint or lemon for an extra boost.

clean something. doesn’t have to be anything big. organize one drawer of ur desk. wash five dirty dishes. do a load of laundry. scrub the bathroom sink. 

blast music. listen to something upbeat and dancey and loud, something that’s got lots of energy. sing to it, dance to it, even if you suck at both.

make food. don’t just grab a granola bar to munch. take the time and make food. even if it’s ramen. add something special to it, like a hard boiled egg or some veggies. prepare food, it tastes way better, and you’ll feel like you accomplished something. 

make something. write a short story or a poem, draw a picture, color a picture, fold origami, crochet or knit, sculpt something out of clay, anything artistic. even if you don’t think you’re good at it.

go outside. take a walk. sit in the grass. look at the clouds. smell flowers. put your hands in the dirt and feel the soil against your skin.

call someone. call a loved one, a friend, a family member, call a chat service if you have no one else to call. talk to a stranger on the street. have a conversation and listen to someone’s voice. if you can’t, text or email or whatever, just have some social interaction with another person. even if you don’t say much, listen to them.

cuddle your pets if you have them/can cuddle them. take pictures of them. talk to them. tell them how u feel, about your favorite movie, a new game coming out.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Hands on you - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Hands on you - Austin George (anon who requested it, I love your big brain, it took me a while but i hope the wait was worth it)

Written as a part 2 to No Chill , but it's a one-shot on its own.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smut (you know what they say about the control you exercise in bed being a direct contrast to the one you have over your life, well...)

wordcount: +8k (this one REALLY ran from me, I know I've said it many times before, but this story took a whole life of its own)

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER THE CUT, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The cold of Aspen pressed against the cabin windows, but that wasn’t something Lewis really noticed.

He stood near the fireplace, fingers absently grazing the edge of his glass. The low hum of his family’s laughter drifted from the other room, but his focus was trained elsewhere.

His phone sat on the table, a silent instigator of thoughts he couldn’t quite shake.

He’d known she’d be here—knew before either of them had exchanged a single word about their holiday plans. They didn’t share itineraries or expectations, but somehow, they always knew where the other would be.

This was how they worked, if you could even call it that. A tangle of half-finished conversations and unresolved tension, always stopping just shy of something real.

It wasn’t simple to describe what they were.

She kept him at arm’s length, no matter how much he pushed. And he always pushed.

Harder, closer, testing the limits of the distance she insisted on keeping. But then she’d let him in—just enough to give him hope before pulling away again.

When his phone buzzed, the interruption jolted him. He set the glass down with a deliberate slowness, exhaling sharply before reaching for the device.

Her post though, stopped him cold.

The photo wasn’t anything new; she’d always had a knack for commanding attention without trying.

There she was, poised in front of a grand tree, the red velvet dress clinging to her like it was designed with only her in mind. In a few she stood with her family, the perfect portrait of elegance and untouchable grace. In other, just her.

And the necklace.

Those diamonds—his diamonds—rested against her neck, catching the light as they glimmered.

He ran his thumb over the screen, staring longer than he should have, the tension in his chest almost choking. She’d barely acknowledged the gift when he sent it. A shrug, a flicker of a glance, but then she had worn it for that party.

And she’d worn it tonight. Here.

And he knew why. The gift wasn’t just for her. It was for moments when she wanted to send him a message. For him to see her wear it. For her to let him in, even if only a fraction more.

Lewis smirked, a low chuckle escaping him as he typed out a quick message:

“Red’s your color. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

He set the phone aside again, trying to will himself back to his family.

His brother called out from the other room, teasing him about something he didn’t catch, but Lewis barely registered it, as he kept his hand resting on the back of the couch, knuckles flexing as he stared toward the window.

The phone buzzed again.

This time, it wasn’t a post though.

He unlocked the screen, and his breath caught.

The image was impossibly intimate, far removed from the polished perfection of that Instagram one.

She stood before a gilded mirror; her body bare except for the diamonds he’d given her. The velvet dress gone. So were the smiles.

It was just her, raw and unfiltered, the faint smirk tugging at her lips the only armor she wore.

The message attached was simple:

“They went skiing. You know the address.”

Lewis stared at the screen, his jaw tightening as heat rushed through him. And he didn’t think twice, grabbing his jacket, muttering a vague excuse to his mother about needing fresh air.

“You’ve been distracted all morning” she said, her voice knowing. “Are you meeting someone?”

He paused, considering how much to share, but her expression told him she already knew. She always did.

“Something like that” he said, voice low before heading out the door.

The drive through to the red mountain was a blur of snow-dusted evergreens and winding roads. He knew where he was going; he didn’t need directions.

The estate came into view, sprawling and opulent, nestled against the mountains like a secret meant only for those who knew where to look.

He parked the car, his hands gripping the wheel for a moment longer than necessary. The house loomed ahead, every bit as untouchable as she was.

But much like the house, she’d invited him in.

He stepped out into the snow, his sneakers crunching against the ground as he approached the door. It was unlocked—of course it was—and the soft hum of music drifted from within.

He recognized the song immediately. One of his.

He followed the sound through the grand hall, past glittering chandeliers and marble floors that reflected the faint light.

When he reached her room, he froze.

The door was ajar, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her.

She stood by the window, her silhouette framed against the snowy landscape outside. The necklace sparkled against her skin, but it was the rest of her that held him captive.

She wasn’t wearing the red velvet dress anymore. Or anything else, save for the crimson lingerie he’d sent for her birthday—a month ago – and the diamonds around her neck.

Y/n turned slowly, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile as she met his gaze. “Took you long enough,” she murmured.

The door clicked shut behind Lewis, the sound echoing in the quiet room as if marking the shift in atmosphere.

He stood there for a moment, just taking her in. The way the necklace caught the dim glow of the lamps, refracting tiny prisms of light onto her collarbone. The way the lace hugged her body, framing her in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else.

His breath came slower, heavier, as he stepped closer, like approaching something sacred and fragile.

Because their relationship was exactly that. Fragile.

“You knew I’d come” he said finally, his voice low, almost a rasp.

Y/n tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable but her lips curling into a faint smile. “Did I?” she challenged, though her tone carried none of its usual bite.

Her gaze flicked over him, the tension palpable as he stopped just shy of touching her.

“You’re playing one of my songs” he pointed out, his voice steadier now, though his chest felt like it might betray him with sound of his own heartbeat.

She chuckled softly, a sound that caught his whole attention. “Seemed fitting,” she replied, her fingers trailing absentmindedly along the chain of the necklace. “You have a way of sneaking into my head.”

Lewis let out a soft breath, his lips tugging at the corners. “That makes two of us.”

He reached out, his hand hovering near her waist before finally making contact. His fingers brushed lightly over the lace, tracing the curve of her hip as though committing it to memory.

Her skin was warm beneath the delicate fabric, and the subtle rise and fall of her breathing was the only movement in the stillness between them.

“Every time,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “You do this.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, though her composure faltered just slightly as his touch lingered. “Do what?”

“Pull me in,” he said simply, his other hand moving to brush against her arm. The contact was light but the kind of touch that spoke volumes without needing words. “Just when I think I’ve figured you out…”

She met his gaze, her own expression softening just enough for him to notice. “And yet, here you are.”

Lewis chuckled “Here I am.”, the sound small but filled with something more.

Almost a deference.

He leaned in, his forehead nearly resting against hers as his hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. The scent of her perfume—warm, rich, and utterly her—wrapped around him, grounding him in the present. On her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n’s hand came up to rest against his chest, her fingers brushing over the fabric of his sweater before curling slightly. “To what?”

“You” he said simply.

Her breath hitched, just for a second, and he felt it more than heard it.

She didn’t respond right away, but she didn’t pull back either. Instead, she let him guide her toward the bed, their movements slow and unhurried, as though he was afraid she might change her mind at any moment.

When the backs of her legs met the edge of the mattress, she hesitated, her gaze dropping for the briefest of moments before meeting his again.

“I told you” she said softly, her voice carrying a vulnerability she rarely let show. “We’re alone.”

Lewis nodded, his hands moving to cup her face gently. “I know.”

The next moment felt like a tipping point, the air between them charged and heavy. His lips brushed against hers in a kiss that started soft, almost hesitant. But the hesitation didn’t last long.

Her arms came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. He felt the shift in her—the way her walls seemed to lower, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond them.

His hands moved slowly, tracing the curve of her spine, the delicate fabric of the lace barely a barrier between them. She leaned into him, her body molding against his as though she was finally letting herself give in.

Lewis broke the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven. “You’re killing me, you know that?” he murmured, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

Y/n laughed softly, the sound warm and intimate. “You’ll survive.”

He chuckled, his hands moving to her hips as he guided her onto the bed. She lay back against the plush pillows, her dark hair around her like a halo.

The soft lighting cast shadows across her skin, highlighting the curves and lines he’d memorized a hundred times over.

He settled beside her, his hand tracing idle patterns along her arm before moving to her waist. There was no rush, no urgency. Just the quiet, steady rhythm of their breathing and the unspoken understanding that this moment was theirs alone.

“You’re letting go” he said quietly, his fingers brushing over the necklace.

Her gaze softened, her hand coming up to rest against his. “You make it easy.”

The admission hung in the air, heavy with its meaning. It was the closest she’d come to saying the words he’d longed to hear, and he didn’t take it lightly.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, just above the diamonds. His lips lingered there, his breath warm against her skin.

“Good” he murmured. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled faintly, her fingers sinking in on the skin just by the edge of his curls as she pulled him closer. “I know.”

The words lingered in the quiet, wrapping around them like a promise. Lewis didn’t reply—not verbally. Letting his actions speak, his lips brushing along her collarbone in a slow line that got her breath catching.

His mouth pressed kisses against her skin like he was mapping her, savoring every inch. Each touch was soft, unhurried, but the weight behind them was undeniable, like he was reminding her of the trust she’d given him in letting him be here, in letting him see her like this.

When he reached the hollow of her throat, he paused, his breath warm against her skin. “You sure?” he asked, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the genuine care in it.

Y/n’s fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, a quiet reassurance. “You’re thinking too much” she teased, though her tone was softer than usual.

Lewis chuckled against her neck, the vibration of it sending another wave of warmth through her. “Can’t help it.”

“Then stop thinking,” she murmured, her other hand sliding along his jaw to guide his lips back to her skin. “Just… be here, with me.”

His chest tightened at her words, but he didn’t let it show. Not just yet.

His kisses trailing lower now, over the curve of her shoulder, down to the edge of her collarbone. The strap of her lingerie slipped under his fingers as he slid it a part of it off her shoulder, baring more of her to him.

She inhaled sharply as his lips followed the path of the lace, his kisses deliberate and exploratory, testing the boundaries she’d so carefully guarded.

And every time she didn’t pull away, every time her body responded with a subtle arch or a quiet sigh, it spurred him on.

“You’re so damn beautiful” he murmured, his voice thick with something that felt too big to name.

Y/n’s laugh was soft, almost self-deprecating. “I think the diamonds are doing most of the work.”

Lewis lifted his head, his gaze locking with hers. “Not a chance,” he said firmly, his thumb brushing against her chin. “They’re just a plus.”

Her lips parted slightly, her teasing retort faltering under the intensity of his gaze. And for a moment there was only the weight of his words hanging between them.

Then, as if to break the tension, she arched an eyebrow. “Are you always this smooth, or is this just for me?”

He grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that way that always seemed to disarm her. “Only for you.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no denying the warmth that bloomed in her chest at his words. His grin softening into something more sincere as he leaned down again, his lips pressing against the center of her chest, just above her heart.

There was no witty comeback this time. Only her fingers threading through his curls, her nails grazing his scalp as she encouraged him further.

Lewis took his time, his kisses trailing lower, over the delicate lace of her lingerie, down to the curve of her ribs.

He paused there, his hand resting lightly on her waist as his lips hovered just above her skin.

“Still good?” he asked again, his voice quieter this time, but no less steady.

Her response came without hesitation. “Yes.”

The simplicity of her answer, the certainty in it, was all he needed. What they needed.

He let out a quiet exhale before continuing, his lips brushing against the soft skin of her belly.

She let out a sound—a mix between a sigh and a laugh—that made him pause. “What’s that for?” he asked, his gaze flicking up to meet hers.

Y/n propped herself up slightly on her elbows, her expression equal parts amused and affectionate. “Your beard. But… don’t stop.”

Her voice dropped slightly on the last part, and it was enough to make him smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He resumed his path, his lips exploring every inch of her. And it wasn’t just about the physicality—though the way her body responded to him was intoxicating.

It was about the way she let him in, the way she seemed to trust him enough to let her walls down, even if only for these stolen moments.

“You’re different like this,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere.

“Like what?” she asked, her tone curious and unguarded.

“Open” he said simply, his hand brushing lightly against her side. “It’s like you’re letting me see … you.”

She was quiet for a moment, her gaze searching his. Then, with a faint smile, she reached out to touch his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Maybe I am” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers as he pressed a kiss to her palm.

“Yeah” he said softly.

And then he kissed her again, his lips meeting hers in a way that felt like a promise. Y/n’s fingers moved instinctively to the hem of his sweatshirt, tugging at the fabric as their kiss deepened.

But before she could pull it over his head, Lewis broke away, his breathing heavy as he caught her hands in his.

“Not yet” he murmured, his voice teasingly.

She blinked up at him, her lips slightly parted as she watched him. “Oh?” she murmured, her tone laced with challenge, but there was curiosity behind it too.

Instead of answering, Lewis gently pressed her back down onto the bed, his hands firm but careful as he guided her into the soft sheets. The weight of his body shifted as he sat back on his heels, his eyes never leaving hers.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached for the hem of his sweatshirt and tore it off himself, revealing the toned lines of his chest and arms.

He paused there, leaning over her but not touching, his dark eyes tracing every detail of her expression. His gaze was heavy and she couldn’t help how her pulse quickened.

“You do nothing, love” he said softly into the small space between them.

Y/n’s brow lifted slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching as if to challenge him. Her eyes flicked down his body briefly before meeting his gaze again.

It was her way of asking: What exactly do you think you’re going to do?

Lewis caught the look, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “Let go” he murmured, his tone insistent. “Just for a bit. Just for me.”

Her heart skipped at his words, and she hesitated. He could see it in the way her eyes searched his face, as if she were trying to read every unspoken promise behind his words.

Finally, with a soft exhale, she nodded. Her fingers sliding into his, intertwining them tightly.

That soft smile of his lit up his face, easing the intensity of the moment, and for a split second, she relaxed completely under his gaze.

“Good girl” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before lowering himself back down.

He resumed where he’d left off, his lips trailing down her abdomen in slow, deliberate movements. His hands rested lightly on her hips, his thumbs brushing small circles against her skin through the delicate fabric of her lingerie.

Y/n inhaled sharply as he traveled lower, his kisses now brushing along the edge of the lace.

The softness of his lips against her skin was maddeningly gentle, and she felt her body react without thought—her hips shifting slightly, a quiet gasp escaping her.

Lewis paused, glancing up at her with a soft chuckle. “You’re really bad at letting go, aren’t you?”

She smirked down at him, though the faint rush in her voice betrayed her. “Maybe you’re not doing a good enough job convincing me.”

He grinned at her challenge, his hand brushing lightly over her waist before his lips followed, pressing just below her navel. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Her breath caught as his kisses dipped lower, moving in a painfully slow trail that left her skin tingling.

When his lips finally brushed the edge of the lace, he paused, letting the moment linger as his fingers traced the delicate fabric.

Lewis smiled, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he slid one hand to the edge of the lace, gently pushing it aside.

The first touch of his skin against her folds was electric, and Y/n couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her lips.

Raw and unrestrained. And for a split second, she froze, caught off guard by the sound of her own vulnerability.

His head lifted, his eyes locking with hers, and the look in them was enough to make her forget her hesitation.

There was no teasing this time, no smirk or witty remark. Only a quiet intensity.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice like a low hum that seemed to resonate through her. “Let me in, babe.”

The frailty of the moment—the way her body responded so freely to him, the way she didn’t pull back or try to shield herself—was both terrifying and exhilarating.

And when Lewis pressed another kiss to her skin, his lips warm and soft against her, she found herself sinking further into the moment. Into him.

For the first time, she wasn’t thinking. She wasn’t analyzing or calculating her next move. She was just feeling. And with him, she felt safe.

Lewis kept his kisses, his lips brushing along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, the slow deliberate strokes of his mouth setting her nerves alight. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as his kisses trailed dangerously close to her core but never quite reaching it.

“Lewis…” Y/n’s voice was breathless, frustration and anticipation mixing in her tone.

He chuckled softly against her skin, the warmth of his breath ghosting over her. “Patience, love” he murmured. “I want you to feel every second of this.”

The first touch of his tongue against her clit was featherlight, a flicker that barely lasted long enough to register before it disappeared. Y/n gasped, her back arching off the bed as a jolt shot through her but disappeared just as quickly. Replaced by the maddening sensation of his lips pressing kisses around but never quite where she needed him.

She let out a low groan, her hands fisting the sheets. “This is torture” she muttered, half-laughing, half-desperate.

Lewis grinned against her skin. “Is it?” he teased, his tone laced with mischief. But even as he spoke, he let his tongue drag in slow, deliberate strokes against her clit, building a rhythm that had her thighs trembling.

His movements were being guided by the subtle shifts of her body—the way her hips pressed forward, the sharp intakes of breath she couldn’t hold back.

When she felt him slow again, teasing her with softer, lighter touches that left her clenching at nothing, she couldn’t help herself. Her hand moved instinctively, finding its way to the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his curls as she pressed him closer.

Lewis chuckled and the vibration against her sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her. “Needy, aren’t we?”

She gave him a look, her swollen lips parted “I swear to God, Lewis…”

He didn’t let her finish. Taking her cue and deepening his focus, his tongue working her clit with more pressure now, more intention. Y/n’s breath hitched, her body tensing as he explored her.

And just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he shifted, sliding a single finger inside her.

Y/n’s head fell back against the pillow, a sharp moan escaping her as he moved carefully, exploring the tight heat of her. His finger curled slightly, testing, searching, until—

“Oh—” The sound tore from her lips, unbidden and raw, as he found the spot he’d been looking for. Her walls clenched around him, her body reacting before she could think.

Lewis grinned to himself, the satisfaction of her response clear on his features.

He pressed into the spot again, slower this time, relishing the way she gasped and arched beneath him.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and full of reverence as he worked her gently. “You feel perfect.”

Y/n couldn’t answer, her words lost in the haze of pleasure. She was on the edge, her body trembling as she clung to him, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

And then he stopped.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his as he sat back slightly, his finger slipping out of her completely. The loss was immediate, and she let out a sound of protest, her brow furrowing in frustration.

“What the hell?” she managed, the irritation clear in her voice.

His grin was maddeningly confident as he leaned forward, brushing a kiss to her hip. “I need to get you ready” he said, his tone soft but firm, as though he were sharing a secret. “I want you to remember this. Our first time.”

Y/n’s lips parted, her frustration giving way to something softer as his words sank in. She studied him for a moment. The sincerity in his gaze, the way his hands moved gently over her thighs, grounding her—it all felt so intimate.

After a beat, she nodded, her fingers brushing against his wrist as she intertwined their hands again.

Lewis took it a permission, and his lips curved into a soft smile before he lowered himself back down. His hands rested on her thighs, steadying her, grounding her, before one finger slid to her core.

This time, he didn’t hold back. His tongue found her clit with precision, and as her body arched in response, his second finger joined the first. He moved deliberately, curling his digits to press against the spot he had found earlier, his rhythm unrelenting as he dragged pleasure from her.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her hands gripping the sheets as her body surrendered to him. The combination of his tongue and fingers was overwhelming, a perfectly orchestrated symphony of sensations that left her trembling.

The world around her seemed to fade, the edges of her vision going white as pleasure consumed her. A sharp, euphoric wave crashed over her, and the ringing in her ears drowned out everything else. Her hands scrambled to find purchase, gripping his curls, his shoulders, the sheets—anything to anchor herself as her orgasm tore through her.

Lewis didn’t stop, his touch gentle but steady as he guided her through every shudder and gasp. It wasn’t until her breathing began to even out that he finally slowed, his lips brushing against her sensitive skin as he pressed tender kisses along her inner thigh.

“You’re stunning like this” he murmured, his voice low and rough, still laced with the intensity of the moment.

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, her chest still rising and falling with the aftershocks. “You’re already in my pants, Sir.” she said, her tone feisty despite the lingering haze of pleasure in her voice.

Lewis grinned, his hand sliding along the smooth skin of her thigh, his fingers tracing lazy patterns. “That I am” he teased, leaning in to press a kiss to the sensitive spot just above her knee.

Her laugh grew steadier, though her legs trembled as he continued his soft, maddening ministrations. “Shut up,” she murmured, her tone carrying no real heat.

Lewis chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. “You love it.”

She reached down, her hand brushing against his wrist as she tugged him upward. Her body still hummed from the aftermath, but she wanted him closer, his weight, his warmth.

He obliged, moving up her body slowly, pressing kisses along the way—her hip, her ribs, the hollow of her throat—before meeting her gaze. His dark eyes were filled with something unspoken, something she felt reflected in the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“You’re unreal,” he whispered, his voice low but earnest.

Y/n arched a brow at him, her lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “And you’re far too smug.”

His grin widened as he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was tender and hungry, a perfect encapsulation of everything he felt for her in that moment.

Mid kiss Lewis felt her hips rocking against him, her teasing movements intentional as she grinned up at him with a smugness that made his pulse thunder. “I can feel you, you know?” she murmured, her voice dripping with tease.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, but her words set a fire in him that had him breaking their kiss. He got off the bed, his fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers.

The fabric fell to the floor in a single, though hurried, motion, and his length sprang free, hard and veined, evidence of just how much she’d unraveled him.

Y/n’s lips parted as her gaze fixed on him, and she couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed across her face. Her eyes darkened with appreciation, and without thinking, her hands moved to her own breasts, fingers brushing over the lace of the lingerie that kept it from fully spilling out.

Lewis let out a low chuckle, guttural even, as he gave himself a single, languid pump. “You keep looking at me like that,” he teased, his voice barely more than a rumble, “and I’m not gonna make it to the bed.”

She bit her lip, her expression innocent and anything but, and Lewis shook his head, climbing back onto the mattress. Before he could fully settle, she pushed herself upright, her head tilting slightly in question as her gaze flicked downward.

Her intent was clear, and he froze for a moment, his breath catching in his throat.

She raised a brow, a silent, teasing demand for permission. He nodded, but not without a soft warning, his voice strained. “Don’t tease, Y/n. I need to last with you.”

Her lips quirked into a wicked smile, her giggle soft as her hand reached for him.

She wrapped her fingers around his base, her touch gentle as she explored him. Starting at the base, her hand moved to his balls, her fingers playing with them just enough to make his breaths grow heavier.

But when her lips pressed the faintest kiss to his tip, he was done for. His hips jerked involuntarily, and he looked down at her with an expression that was of a man utterly undone.

And it only spurred her on.

Her tongue darted out, the flat of it trailing from his base to his tip, slow and deliberate, before repeating the motion. She maintained eye contact the whole time, the sight of him unraveling beneath her felt like a dream.

Lewis’s groans grew deeper, his hands moving to cradle her face, though his touch was feather-light. Her tongue circled his tip before taking him into her mouth, her pace unhurried, and it wasn’t long before he was moaning her name like a prayer.

When his breaths turned shallow and erratic, he gently pulled her head away, his hands cupping her cheeks as he tried to regain control. His grin was sheepish but endearing, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“Babe,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “I won’t last like that.”

Her laugh was soft, her lips glistening as she looked up at him with desire. “You sure about that?” she teased, her voice light and playful, but she didn’t push further, leaning back slightly as if to give him the reins again.

Lewis let out a shaky exhale, his gaze locking onto hers with a new intensity. His grin widening as he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was hungry and unapologetically full of want.

When he broke the kiss she reached over to the bedside drawer, her fingers deftly searching until they closed around a small, foil packet. Pulling it out, she gave him a pointed look, a playful glint in her eyes as she caught the subtle question forming in his gaze.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. “What?” she teased, holding the condom between her fingers like it was the most casual thing in the world. “You think I didn’t plan ahead?”

He leaned back slightly, his gaze narrowing as the pieces clicked into place. “So you’re saying,” he began, his voice laced with amusement, “you planned that photo, this whole thing?”

Her lips curved into a slow, self-satisfied smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean” she drawled, her tone dripping with playful innocence, “it wasn’t exactly a coincidence.”

And before he could continue his teasing, she tossed the packet toward him. He caught it easily, holding it between his fingers and giving it a closer look. The brand and size caught his attention, and his grin turned smug.

“How’d you know the size?” he asked, his voice thick with curiosity and more than a hint of ego.

She didn’t falter, shrugging again with an air of feigned indifference. “I had a feeling,” she said simply, her tone light.

And just as he was about to say anything else, she plucked the packet back from his hand with a quickness that caught him off guard. Tearing it open with skillful precision. Holding his gaze as she rolled it down over his length, her fingers moving with ease.

Her smug smile only grew as she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his tip through the thin barrier. And the sound he made—a cross between a groan and a low chuckle—had her biting her lip, her own pulse racing in response.

“You’re dangerous,” he muttered, his voice thick and heavy with want.

“Maybe” she replied, her voice as steady as her hands, “but you don’t seem to mind.”

He leaned back in, his body pressing her into the mattress as his lips found hers again. The weight of him, the heat radiating from his skin, and the way his hands gripped her thighs made her feel like the only thing in his universe.

Lewis shifted his weight, settling between her thighs as his hands gripped her waist gently, thumbs stroking the soft skin there. He caught her gaze, his dark eyes searching hers for any hesitation, any flicker of doubt.

Seeing none, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice low and steady. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

She nodded, her breath catching as she felt the tip of him pressing against her folds. Her body tensed instinctively, and he couldn’t help but notice.

“Relax, love,” he whispered, one hand moving up to cradle her face while the other stayed on her waist, grounding her. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

She exhaled slowly, her body softening beneath him as she let herself trust his touch, his words. The feeling of him—his warmth, his strength, his care—wrapped around her like a cocoon, and she nodded again.

“Good girl” he praised softly, his voice a gentle caress that made her shiver.

Slowly, he began to press into her, inch by inch, his movements controlled and deliberate. His lips stayed close to her ear, whispering reassurances with every breath.

“You’re so tight” he murmured, his voice tinged with awe. “Feels incredible.”

Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as her body adjusted to him, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. When he felt her tense up again, his movements paused, his forehead dropping to hers as he soothed her.

“Breathe, baby” he coaxed, his tone insistent. “You’re doing so good for me.”

She took a shaky breath, her nails digging into his skin. Slowly the stretch became less overwhelming as he stayed perfectly still, giving her the time she needed.

“That’s it” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple. “You’re perfect, Y/n. Perfect.”

When she finally tilted her hips toward him, signaling she was ready, he began to move again, easing in further until he was fully seated inside her.

The sensation was overwhelming. The heat, the tightness, the sheer intimacy of it. He let out a shaky breath of his own, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he gathered himself.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern even as his body trembled from the restraint it took to stay still.

Her lips curved into a small, teasing smile. “More than okay,” she whispered, her voice breathless.

He chuckled softly, brushing his nose against hers before he started to move. His thrusts starting to draw soft gasps from her lips.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion. “Better than I ever imagined.”

Y/n arched against him, her nails dragging down his back as she adjusted to his rhythm. The sounds of their skin filling the room, soft gasps and low groans mixing with the faint hum of music still playing in the background.

But then, her teasing nature resurfaced. She leaned up, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “You’re talking too much”

He froze for a moment, pulling back just enough to look at her. Her smirk enough to make him laugh, the deep, rumbling sound vibrating against her chest.

“Oh, you want me to shut up?” he asked, his grin turning wolfish.

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “And fuck me” she added, her voice challenging and playful all at once.

His grin only grew, his hands sliding down to grip her hips more firmly. “Careful what you wish for” he warned.

And then he moved, his pace quickening as he thrust into her with more purpose. Her head fell back against the pillows, a moan escaping her lips as the intensity increased.

“Like that?” he asked, his voice rough and breathless.

Her body moved with his, their rhythm syncing effortlessly as the tension between them built higher and higher. His hands roamed her body, memorizing every curve, every reaction, as if committing her to memory.

He slowed for just a moment, pressing his forehead to hers as he caught the tension building in her body again, the telltale flutter of her walls around him as her moans grew higher, more desperate.

He smiled against her shoulder, slowing his movements just enough to catch his breath and consider what to do next.

He wanted to draw this out, make it last.

With a shift of his weight, he eased them onto their sides, pulling her leg over his hip as he adjusted their position. She was now nestled in his arms, her back pressed firmly against his chest. The change altered the angle of his thrusts, not as deep as before, but the friction made her gasp sharply.

She whimpered, her head tilting back to rest against his shoulder. He kissed the curve of her neck, one hand sliding down to grip her thigh and keep her leg in place as he moved, slow and deliberate. The other hand found her breast, his thumb brushing over her sensitive nipple through the delicate lace of her lingerie.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Her response was a soft moan, her free arm reaching back to wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she tried to pull him closer. He chuckled, his lips brushing against her ear as he continued to move inside her, the rhythm steady and almost torturous in its slowness.

“You feel so good like this,” he whispered, his voice low and rough.

Her breathing hitched as his hand slid beneath the lace, palming her bare breast and rolling her nipple between his fingers. His other hand pressed against her stomach, holding her securely against him as his hips moved with deliberate precision.

She gasped when his fingers squeezed her nipple lightly, and when his tongue darted out to trace the shell of her ear, she let out a broken moan.

“You’re creaming all over my dick, baby,” he teased, his voice laced with a smug edge. “You’re so wet for me.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, but the heat pooling in her core only grew. “Fuck” she breathed, her tone half-plea, half-warning.

“Yeah?” he asked, his tone teasing as he nipped at her neck. “Tell me what you need.”

“You” she managed, her voice trembling as his hips rolled against hers, the friction unbearable in the best way.

“I’m right here,” he whispered, his lips trailing down to her shoulder. “Not going anywhere.”

His hand moved from her breast, sliding down to her stomach and pressing gently, as though anchoring her to him. The pressure make her squirm, and she could feel herself teetering on the edge again.

Lewis, ever attuned to her, slowed his thrusts further, the motion gentle but unrelenting. “I want you to feel every second of this” he said softly, his lips brushing against her neck. “I want you to remember this.”

Her body arched against his as his words, his touch, his movements all coalesced into a perfect storm. The tension inside her snapped, her climax hitting and leaving her breathless. Her moans filled the room as her body trembled in his arms, her nails digging into his skin.

“That’s it” he murmured, his tone reverent as he held her through it, his thrusts slowing to let her ride out the waves of her orgasm. “So gorgeous.”

When she finally stilled, her body limp and boneless against him, he pressed a soft kiss to her neck, just above the diamond necklace.

He wasn’t done yet, but he was in no rush. This was about her, about showing her just how much she meant to him, even if she couldn’t say it yet.

Lewis eased himself out of her, his motions unhurried and careful, allowing them both a moment to breathe. But a fleeting moment at last, as with a firm grip on her hips, he guided her onto her hands and knees, positioning her with precision.

He grabbed two pillows from the head of the bed, tucking them beneath her hips to elevate her. The sight before him breathtaking: her back arched, her body pliant, and her skin glowing with their sweat under the soft lighting of the room.

“Damn” he muttered, his voice filled with want as he leaned over her.

He pressed a series of kisses along the line of her spine, traveling from the curve of her shoulder blades down to the small of her back.

“I should personally thank your trainer,” he teased against her skin, his voice laced with amusement.

Her laugh was soft, light, and so utterly her. It had him grinning as he moved back up, angling her face just enough to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on her, and her gaze softened for a split second before her eyes fluttered closed as his lips trailed to her ear.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured, his voice a warm caress that sent a pleasant tingle down her spine.

Her breath hitched, and before she could respond, he took advantage of the moment, angling himself at her entrance and thrusting into her in one fluid motion. The force of it sent a jolt through her, her body instinctively surging forward, but his hands were firm, holding her hips in place.

“Gosh” she gasped, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

He froze, waiting for her response, his instincts telling him to be sure she was with him.

Then she turned her head slightly, giving him a look over her shoulder that was just pure need. “Aren’t you moving?”

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face, and he chuckled softly. “Impatient, are we?”

“Just shut up and—” Her words were cut off by the sharp inhale she took when he began moving.

His thrusts started slow and deep. He wanted her to feel every inch of him, wanted to stretch this moment out for as long as he could.

His hands roamed over her body, one sliding up her back, following the curve of her spine, while the other remained anchored on her hip, guiding her into the rhythm he set.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, along with her breathless moans and his low groans. As he shifted his angle slightly, the motion of his hips caused his pelvis to press against her, and he noticed the subtle slap of his balls against her swollen, oversensitive clit.

The reaction was immediate. Her body tensed, a strangled moan escaping her lips as her arms buckled slightly under her.

Lewis paused for a moment, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he realized what had her unraveling like that. “Oh, so that’s what’s doing it for you,” he said with a low chuckle, his tone teasing and joyful.

She let out a frustrated groan, half-laughing, half-mortified. “Don’t get cocky”

“Too late for that” he shot back, his voice dripping with smugness.

He adjusted his grip on her hips, pulling her back against him as he picked up the pace, making sure to maintain that angle. Her moans became louder, more erratic, and he knew he was driving her closer to the edge again.

“Lew…” she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper, but the need in it was clear.

“I’ve got you” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Her body tightened around him as the rhythm of his thrusts pushed her closer to her peak. He leaned over her again, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so good for me. So perfect.”

His words seemed to send her straight to the precipice. Her body trembling with anticipation.

Lewis could feel himself getting close too, the tightening coil in his abdomen signaling his release was imminent. But he wasn’t about to let go without taking her there with him one more time.

With one arm steadying her waist, he slipped his other hand around her body, his fingers finding her swollen clit and taking the place of his balls. His flicks were harsh and fast, the perfect counter to the deep, deliberate thrusts of his hips.

“Lewis—” Her voice broke into a cry, the overwhelming pleasure making her legs shake as her head dipped forward.

Her walls clamped down on him, the tightness making him struggle to keep his rhythm steady. The way she clenched and trembled around him was too much, and as she shattered around his cock, her third release washing over her with force, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

A deep, guttural groan tore from his chest as his own orgasm hit. His thrusts stuttered, then slowed as he spilled into the condom, his body trembling against hers. The heat of his release and the pulsing of her walls combined into a sensation so consuming that it left him breathless.

He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, stilling until he caught his breath before carefully easing out of her.

With a tender touch, he guided her onto her side and pulled her close, cradling her against his chest as their heartbeats gradually steadied.

She looked impossibly soft, her features relaxed, and for the first time, Lewis thought he might be seeing her exactly as she was, no defenses, no walls—just Y/N. But even then, he could feel the tiniest trace of distance, an invisible line she hadn’t yet crossed.

His fingers brushed against her bare shoulder, tracing idle patterns on her skin. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “for someone who loves control, you’re surprisingly good at letting go when you trust someone.”

She smirked, though her eyes stayed closed. “Don’t push your luck. I might revoke your privileges.”

Lewis chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “Noted. But seriously,” he continued, his tone softening, “I meant what I said earlier. I want you to feel safe with me, always.”

Her eyes opened, meeting his gaze. For a long moment, she said nothing, her fingers lightly grazing the curve of his bicep.

Y/N stretched against him, her body melting into his as she exhaled deeply. The tension she carried so often was gone, replaced by an almost vulnerable ease.

“I bet you think you’ve got me all figured out now,” she murmured, her voice laced with teasing, though there was a softness beneath it.

Lewis grinned, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. “Not a chance,” he replied. “I think I’ve just cracked the surface. And, honestly? I like it that way. Keeps me on my toes.”

She laughed, the sound rich and unguarded. “Well, don’t get too comfortable. I’m not some damsel for you to swoop in and rescue.”

“Trust me, love, I’d be bored if you were,” he quipped, his hand finding hers and lacing their fingers together. “I’m here for the full ride—walls, sass, and all.”

She smiled faintly, her fingers trailing up to brush the side of his face. “Why, though?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Why would you want to deal with someone like me?”

Lewis caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Because I see you. The real you. Not the guarded version you show the world, or even the teasing version that drives me mad in the best way. The woman lying here, right now. That’s who I want.”

Her lips parted slightly, as though she had something to say, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth, as though that gesture could convey what she couldn’t say aloud.

Y/N’s expression softened, though her lips still held a playful tilt. She reached up, brushing her fingers through his short curls before letting her hand fall to the diamond necklace still resting against her chest. “You really have a thing for seeing me in this, huh?”

His eyes flicked down to the glinting diamond, and a slow smile spread across his face. “It’s not the necklace,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “It’s what it means. You’re wearing it for me. That’s enough.”

She rolled her eyes, though her fingers toyed with the necklace almost shyly. “You’re insufferably smug, you know that?”

“Only because I know I’m right,” he teased, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth, the faintest brush of lips that left her sighing against him.

She nestled back into his arms, her cheek resting on his chest as her fingertips traced absent shapes on his skin. The quiet stretched between them, not heavy, but filled with unspoken truths and the history they’d built together.

“You’re annoyingly patient too” she said after a long silence, her voice almost contemplative.

Lewis glanced down at her, his brow lifting. “That’s a complaint?”

“It’s an observation,” she corrected, her words deliberate. “Most people wouldn’t have stuck around this long.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Most people aren’t me. And you’re worth it, Y/N. Every bit of it.”

Her lips twitched, her usual sass flickering back as she quipped, “Big words, Hamilton. You planning on carving them into a trophy or something?”

He laughed, his head falling back briefly before he looked at her with pure adoration. “Nah, I’ll just keep reminding you every day.”

Y/N shook her head, her smile growing as she tugged him closer for another kiss, this one slower, softer. When they parted, she rested her forehead against his, the diamond catching the last rays of the setting sun.

“You’re so stubborn” she said with mock exasperation.

“And you love it” he shot back, grinning.

She didn’t reply, but the way she pulled him closer, the way she let herself fully relax in his arms, told him everything he needed to know.

For now, it was enough.

_____________________________________________________________

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[scruckels]

HOW STEB COMMUNICATES!

And... that's kinda it. A deep dive into how Steb communicates but I fight to stay on topic the longer you read.

NOTE: I gave this whole post a hazy and blurry zonked glance while muttering to myself before pressing post. There may be some spelling mistakes / incorrect wording.

Question by this person, but I was too lazy to make a separate post since I already had a draft similar to this question saved. I LOVE YOU CORACOOKIECRUMBLE!!! 😁😁😁😁⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️🗣🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯

There aren't many scenes of Steb trying to communicate with someone, so it's difficult to say for sure how he communicates, but I think I have a pretty decent idea.

IN THE VIDEO BELOW

You see Steb with Maddie. This is the only scene really showing how they talk to one another, and the situtiain is tense, so it's hard to say how he communicates in more relaxed situations. In this scene, Steb communicates with her that he's ready by grunting, to which she understands.

IN THE GIF BELOW

Once again, in a tense situation, Steb makes some noise to communicate. This time, he speaks. Not only does he speak, but he also motions for everyone to follow him. With that being said, this proves that Steb CAN talk. He just doesn't want to.

This is not the only time Steb uses body language to communicate.

IN THE GIF BELOW

Steb cocks his head to the side, signaling to Maddie that they should go, as well as walking away with her once they're called.

IN THE TWO GIFS BELOW

Steb uses some hand and arm motions to signal to others. In the first one, he signals to Caitlyn to fall back, being that he had planted the bomb. In the second GIF, he signals for the enforces to turn off the beacons, since there didn't appear to be anyone coming to help fight.

IN THESE TWO GIFS BELOW

Steb grabs Mel to help her up, and in the second GIF, he grabs up the other guy to detain him. (I don't know if he has a name, and im too tired to look for one.)

Steb doesn't say anything prior to touching them, but the situations are also something to consider. Steb has his hands out to both of them, catching their attention just before actually putting his hands on them. Whether or not it's intentionally meant to be a signal, it's still something he does.

With these situations, it's hard to say EXACTLY how he is when using physical contact to communicate, but it'd say it isn't something he does often. He grabs Mel because it's an emergency, and he needs to make sure she's alright and out of there as soon as possible. He grabs the guy to detain him, following Caitlyn's orders and arresting him. Every time he touches someone (on screen), it's not really to communicate, and more so to assist / do his job.

CONCLUSION AND ANSWERS:

Is Steb mute?

No.

Is he selectively mute?

It seems most likely........? (Considering the information we have, at least.)

That being said, if he IS selectively mute, he may be open to speaking more frequently with someone close to him. Maybe even if it's just a little bit. (Short sentences, short answers, quiet speaking voice, murmuring, ect.) I can speak more on this at the end of this post for the people who wanna read about it.

Do I think he uses sign language? No. I really doubt it. He communicates both intentionally and unintentionally with small gestures, body language, and expression. He might use some type of hand signs occasionally? Not sign language itself, but just hand gestures that give you a vague idea of what he wants. For example, maybe you'll ask him why he's out somewhere, and he'll tug on the fabric of his enforcer uniform, signaling he's there for work. You'll ask why he's looking at you, and he'll point to his face as reference to your own, signaling that you have something on you and showing where it is.

Again, there's isn't enough Information to be 100% certain, but I feel like my conclusion is relatively sound.

Extra yap you were previously warned about:

I can talk more about selective mutism in another post for the people interested. Keep in mind, I'm NOT a professional. I'm autstic and I'm just nerdy about this. I don't wanna dump a whole bunch of information that is not at least 87% Steb related in this post, so I'm gonna say this next part like I'm one of those youtubers who has an audience of 5 year olds and makes those 3 am challenge videos cause it's funny.

GUYS, IF WE CAN GET AT LEAST FIVE PEOPLE TO COMMENT THAT THEY WANNA HEAR ABOUT SELECTIVE MUTISM IN ANOTHER POST, ILL MAKE A POST ABOUT SELECTIVE MUTISM AND HOW STEB WOULD MOST LIKELY BEHAVE OFF SCREEN IF HE HAS IT!! DONT FORGET TO SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON, SUBSCRIBE, AND TURN ON THE NOTIFICATIONS BELL!!

I LOVE YOU STEB NATION!!! 🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯❗️❗️❗️❗️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️🙏🙏🙏🙏

[tomicscomics]

12/30/2024

And so it ends... FOR NOW?!?!?

___ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, it's finally over. Thanks for sticking through it with me. This series was really fun to draw, and it gave me a chance to do two things I found surprisingly fun: (1) draw several anachronistic saints interacting with each other and (2) make a bunch of RPG jokes in a religious context. To be honest, it was stressful. First off, I hardly have any time to draw these days, so committing to two comics a week was an insane thing to do, especially for the holidays. Second, I had the whole 10-part series planned out at the beginning, but then my mind was so flooded with new jokes as I went that I had to re-write and re-plan almost every week in order to keep the series to the original 10 parts. I have a ton of jokes I had to skip, but I'll keep note of them in case I revisit this concept in the future. Ultimately, I'm frayed and unsatisfied, but I enjoyed myself and learned as I went, and that about sums it up. Maybe I'll write a retrospective to post on Patreon, if I can get my thoughts in order. Anyway, once again, thank you all for indulging me in this incredibly unusual series. Tomics will return to relative normalcy soon. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!

JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. Continuing from the last few cartoons, an angel has been introducing a few saints to playing a tabletop roleplaying game. This series has covered them learning how to make characters, culminating in them introducing their characters and ending with the story finally about to begin. 2. Most RPG players know the struggle of trying to find a group of like-minded players, of scheduling regular sessions, and of actually making it to the end of a full campaign. Many campaigns end prematurely because the players start having interpersonal drama, or because their busy schedules just don't match up, or because the group simply gets burnt out. The end of this cartoon makes light of this earthly reality. Hypothetically, if an angel DID run an RPG campaign for some saints in heaven, they'd all be free of the all the flaws and struggles that would normally force a campaign to end prematurely.

[mr-viwick]

Thank you for putting it into words like this, it’s a far more detailed explanation of this part of the horror of Mouthwashing specifically!

You perfectly described what made me relate to Curlys post crash state so much and how I feel about his portrayal in fan content in general.

There has been great art and writing that, even when meant to be a joke or humorous, still felt like he was a person. On the other hand it’s been sad and even hurtful to see how not only Curly but also Anya get portrayed sometimes. I understand those are fictional characters, but the way some people engage with just the concept of those two makes it hard for me to trust they’d treat real life disabled people/survivors of any kind of abuse/women in general any better.

I also get the “blorbofication” of characters, I do that myself, but that’s not really what this is about in my opinion. In a certain type of fan works of Curly it just feels grossly dehumanising, in a way that is unfortunately very real for a lot of disabled people. There’s so many things about him that real people struggle with and makes those that are not view them as less.

For example just the inability to talk with those around you is something that gets infantilised often, treating the lack of speaking as if it keeps someone from understanding others or the world in general and often leading to getting treated like a small child.

Then the burn wounds. He’s basically been stripped of his identity so to say, the guys whole skin is gone, his hair, face, etc unrecognisable. It’s something I’ve seen used as “shock factor” by some who played the game, which is smth that has always felt very uncomfortable, especially when it’s something real life burn victims tend to face a lot. It’s also why I don’t see Curly merely existing as a reason to tag “gore”, it doesn’t feel right.

And the loss of limbs/mobility. I feel like there’s also a lot of infantilisation related to this one because I’ve seen people with mobility impairments treated, again, like children a concerning amount of times.

I feel people forget that’s a grown man.

I’m not too active around the game anymore but Curlys situation has probably been one of my favourite depictions of “disability horror” to me because it all feels very relatable (as someone with chronic pain and mental disabilities) and also very directly portrays caretaker abuse

I’m not too confident in putting all my thoughts about this into words but I’d also love more exploration of this aspect in discussions, etc.

getting attached to how Curly encapsulates the horror of disability and loss of autonomy while being dependant on people that make any and all decisions for you

[ceratedfish24]

(This post has been altered to be more general. Please respond to replies and reblogs accordingly. Thank you.)

If I see one more post that villainizes Scott for attacking Joel, or anyone else, for that matter, I’m going to flip my lid.

First of all, it’s a death game. They don’t need a reason to kill each other. Scott and Joel are very close friends outside of the game. They used to be neighbors. The people who are closest tend to go after each other the hardest, because they’re the most comfortable with ending each other’s seasons.

Secondly, it’s not at all unreasonable. Joel’s whole thing is being a menace. He was upset when someone on reddit said that he’s “lawful good” in the Life Series. He said that his goal is to be “chaotic evil”. Joel is a constant menace to Scott and many of Scott’s allies. As a Joel viewer, you might see that as Joel being clever or powerful, but he is just a menace to almost everybody else and that is literally his goal. Of course Scott would want to push back a little.

Third, sure. Joel often doesn’t effectively do much to Scott. This is NOT due to a lack of effort. Joel tries incredibly hard to irritate Scott. It’s his love language. Joel and Scott are close, and Joel thinks it’s hilarious to get Scott riled up. It’s like targeting your brother in a game for the crime of being your brother. Joel failing to do harm to Scott is not the same as Joel doing nothing to hurt Scott. Joel has repeatedly made his intentions clear.

Fourth, the poster specifically mentioned that Scott killed Joel in Secret Life “without a reason”. Joel spent a whole episode of Secret Life recruiting three people to kill Scott. I think their rivalry is a pretty good reason, but, again, they don’t really need a reason. It is a death game. They are friends. They were on different teams. They are bound to attack each other. That’s how the game works.

Joel fans, you don’t ever have to defend Joel from Scott. If you were a real Joel fan, I think you would know that Joel loves Scott dearly and that’s why he’s such a menace to him. Don’t attack Scott for his mutual friendship with Joel. They know each other’s boundaries and have never stepped on them. The members of the Life Series have stated again and again that everyone in the Life Series shows a healthy and mutual respect and love for everybody else in the series and that, if it made it into a video, everyone is okay with it. Joel and Scott literally take time out of their day to excitedly talk about their sessions with each other by themselves. Take a chill pill. Scott and Joel are just fine.

[wheneverfeasible]

No Obligation (part 1?)

wc: 1.3k || rating: T || tags: omegaverse steddie, post-s4 au, eddie lives, max lives, o!steve, a!eddie, rockstar!eddie, mpreg, oc!kid, friends-with-benefits, second chance love, secret pregnancy, pining || summary: after corroded coffin makes it big, eddie leaves hawkins and never looks back, while steve is unknowingly pregnant with their pup. which might have been fine, had they actually been together.

~

It had broken Steve’s heart when Eddie left.

Which was stupid because it wasn’t like they had even actually been together. They had fooled around a lot, kind of exclusively though they’d never said as such in words, but they weren’t together. They went on what were very obviously dates, though they didn’t acknowledge them as such, and there’d been no courtship. It was just for fun.

When Eddie broke things off, when he left Hawkins because he finally got that chance he had been waiting for and Corroded Coffin had actually landed a record deal, it was amicable. They hadn’t been a thing, they had just been…a placeholder. Just something to pass the time until something better came along.

Except, watching Eddie leave and never look back when his something better came along, Steve realized that he had kind of been hoping for a forever type of deal, been hoping that he could be the something better after all.

It was three and a half weeks after Eddie left that Steve discovered he was pregnant.

Steve knew he should find a doctor, take care of things quietly. He was an unbonded omega; a pregnancy would ruin any and all prospects he had. He’d even had Robin make the appointment for him.

He never went.

He didn’t go to the makeup appointment either.

No one had known about him and Eddie, not officially. Robin obviously knew, he could keep nothing from his soulmate, and he figured Eddie’s bandmates knew, but what had been between them had been a secret. Just two bros helping each other through their cycles, finding release when the stress or nightmares got too much, and that was that.

Eddie made that more than clear. And Steve had started the whole thing in complete agreement.

If only he hadn’t fallen in love with his best friend.

Eddie never visited, like he promised he would. He was too caught up in what was practically overnight success. Being the prime suspect of Satanic ritual serial killings made the metal community perk up in interest, nevermind that he was found to be completely innocent of the charges. It was good publicity. Even his scars enticed fans.

He called, once or twice, but he stopped calling Steve ‘sweetheart’ by then, and it became obvious that Eddie had no intention in ever returning to Hawkins. Not without an obligation.

Steve never wanted to be an obligation again. Didn’t want that for his pup either.

Didn’t want Eddie to feel trapped, didn’t want his pup to feel resented, because Steve knew that Eddie would drop everything to try to be a good father, even if it wasn’t what he wanted. Even if returning to Hawkins would slowly kill him on the inside.

So Steve said nothing.

The pup growing inside his belly wouldn’t be Eddie’s. It was his; just his. Steve wouldn’t ever be able to be the pup’s alpha parent, but he could be enough. He would be enough, because there was no other choice. He would sever all familial connection between the pup and Eddie. Sure, part of him wanted just a little bit of the man he wanted to be his alpha still, but the pup would never be a placeholder like Steve had been.

His pup was his. Not a replacement for the man he couldn’t have. It was his pup and no one else’s. Thus there would never be any obligation.

Especially after Eddie stopped calling. Stopped writing. Stopped…everything.

He still contacted Dustin and the others, he knew. Sent them out tickets for his shows when he played nearby. As his fame and fortune grew, he even flew them out for visits and shows farther away.

Steve had been invited, of course, but Steve was done with being an obligation too. The love was still there, it always would be for Steve, but the friendship mellowed out as they moved on with their lives. After all, what basis did their friendship even have without the trauma that tied them together? Trauma that Eddie obviously wanted to forget.

Seven months after Eddie left, Steve’s son was born.

Steve never resented Eddie for leaving, for never loving him, or for anything else. Though there was no denying the dark curls atop his son’s head, Steve never really thought of the pup as his and Eddie’s. It was his pup. There was no alpha listed on the birth certificate, no talk of the pup’s other parent being gone, no nothing. Steve would never let his pup believe for a second that he was missing anything.

He definitely would not let the pup believe that he had a father out there who didn’t want him. No, as far as everyone else was concerned, Steve wanted a pup so he set out to get one using a donor. Even as the pup grew older, Steve’s eye color in a shape that was not his own, Steve’s cheeks but not his chin, Steve’s moles but not his smile…

Steve never entertained whispers of the kid being anyone else’s but his and his alone.

And what did it matter since Eddie would never know the pup even existed to begin with? Would never know because he was never coming back?

Robin helped, and those closest to him did as well, even when Steve could see that they knew. Even if they didn’t know before, they had to know now. But the pup was his, never an obligation or reluctant duty for anyone else. Never feel even for a second like he was unwanted or unloved.

The first time Wayne saw the pup, a few months after he was born when Steve ran into him at the grocery store, the older alpha had dropped the eggs he was carrying.

Steve made it clear that the sleeping boy was his and his alone, something that Wayne seemed to understand. The alpha still asked to see the pup more, something Steve didn’t have the heart to deny. Not when he saw the way Wayne’s eyes glistened with tears.

Not when the man looked like he had found something he’d lost a long time ago.

And so the pup grew up. It was getting harder and harder to deny the other half of the kid’s genes, of course, not with his curls, or the piercing look in his eyes, or his intelligence he certainly didn’t get from Steve. And then there was the music.

The pup was drawn to music, taking to it like a fish to water.

Thankfully, for Steve’s sanity, the boy didn’t seem interested with the toy guitar Dustin (much to Steve’s consternation) got him, though he did enjoy the drum set Wayne got him for his birthday. Which…was fine, though Steve’s headaches didn’t thank Wayne any.

All in all, Steve was content with his life. As his honorary pups grew up and started their own lives, many going away for college, Steve settled into his life as a single parent, though it wasn’t always easy as an unbonded omega with a young pup.

His parents had, of course, disowned him as soon as he couldn’t hide it any longer. He’d been expecting it, of course, and withdrew as much of his savings as he could without causing them to demand it back.

He’d traded in his car as well for something cheaper and sturdier, moved into Forest Hills in a two bedroom double-wide, and found a job that would employ him in his circumstances. It wasn’t the life he had envisioned for himself as a cocky young man, but it was one he was happy with because it was his. His and his pup’s.

He worked hard to provide for his pup. Steve didn’t need an alpha. Nor did he want one. He had his pup, his friends, and that was all that mattered. He made it on his own and he’d be damned if anyone took that away from him.

Everything was going well. His little one just had his seventh birthday, he had gotten a small raise at work, and Lucas and Max were going to be visiting soon. Things were good.

And then he heard the news: Corroded Coffin was returning to Hawkins, Indiana.

Eddie was coming back.

~

oop, lil bit of a cliffhanger there, sorry. This was just an idea that would not leave me alone until I wrote it out. Which is hilarious because I’m actually not a fan of pregnancy/kid fics in normal circumstances lmao mpreg or otherwise

I may or may not continue this in the future, once I work on my other, currently languishing, WIPs. I do have some more ideas for this though, which bodes well for actually writing more of it lol

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @hiei-harringtonmunson

[fast-burn]

Maxiel + 14. Sloppy seconds !!

i think this is maybe my most requested kink 😂 but you gotta give the people what they want! hope you don't mind if i add background garage gangbang into this (and also cw for drug use reference, off-screen)

kink list here

XXX

Generally Daniel tries not to live with regrets, but he's a little miffed that the whole thing with Max's mechanics began after he left Red Bull. Granted, it couldn't have started before. The concept of Max coming off his first race and his first win getting gangbanged within an inch of his life is something Daniel avoids thinking about like someone might avoid grasping a hot poker. That whole idea is just--well yeah, better not.

Still though, it's like Red Bull didn't start having real fun until Daniel was out of the picture. Not that Daniel would have joined or anything, but it would have been nice to have the invitation.

Daniel is in the hotel lobby, late, buying chamomile tea from the bar instead of room service because--he doesn't know. Better to put a couple euros on his credit card rather than charging it to the team? He's just in time to see GP and Calum walk in with Max propped up between them. They each have an arm around his curved waist. Max moves sluggishly, but he seems happy. Downright blissful. They carry him to the elevator and Daniel holds out his AmEx to tap it against the machine.

It takes maybe three minutes of Daniel being back in his own room before he's texting Max.

you good?

yes very good is Max's reply, almost immediately.

Daniel bites his lip. His mind is blank.

wanna come up and watch a movie or something? can't sleep

lol netflix and chill? Max asks, and well that's not-not what Daniel meant. He totally gets if Max is too tired for it. Hardly a big deal.

He says up to you, we can just hang if you want, and then rm 1220.

Daniel sips his tea and then goes to brush his teeth. He's rearranging his curls, trying to make them look fuller, when finally Max knocks on the door.

"Hi Daniel," he says, leaning in the doorway, eyes half-lidded, body swaying like he's drunk. He isn't drunk. He's probably taken a ton of poppers, but now he's genuinely just tired, the effects long since worn off. Daniel scoops him into the room.

Max is easy to direct to the bed, and as soon as he lays down he starts kicking off his shoes, toes prying down the heels before he flicks his ankles and nearly launches them at the goddamn TV. He smiles up at Daniel, the stretch of his mouth a shiny with a smear of lip balm and sore-looking in the corners. He makes grabby hands until Daniel crawls on top of him. Cute. The last time they did this, Max said he always wanted a breather after it all, but once he cooled down he wanted the weight of something anchoring him. Daniel isn't particularly heavy, but he's happy to provide in whatever way he can.

"I don't think I can come again," Max says, rubbing his face against Daniel's neck. His stubble is so scratchy-rough-good, dragging against the grain of Daniel's own beard, that Daniel shivers over and over. "But I'm not ready to sleep yet."

"Lucky me," says Daniel. "You wanna talk about it?"

Max makes a vague noise, but then he gives Daniel the post-gangbang report in broad strokes. They put several big packing blankets down on the garage floor, they took turns, they made sure his holes were always full, they cleaned him up when they were done. Daniel is hard when Max finally snuffles into Daniel's collar and says, "That's all, just the usual. Pretty simple stuff."

The pictures flashing through Daniel's mind aren't simple at all. It's like that guy with the painting of the staircases, tangled up in all different angles. He grinds his dick against the bed in the soft, open vee of Max's legs.

"I don't think I--" Max starts.

Daniel interrupts him. "No. No, I know."

"You would be very nice, Daniel. It's not you that is the problem."

It's twelve to fifteen guys other than me, Daniel thinks to himself, then chastises himself for being jealous. They're not a couple, and Max loves these nights. It makes him feel connected to everyone. It makes him feel so satisfied that he has to be hand-delivered back to the hotel, poured into Daniel's bed to sleep it off for eight hours.

"Can I just take a look?" He asks instead, and Max nods, twists in Daniel's arms until he's flat on his stomach.

"I won't fall asleep," Max promises.

"You can if you want. It was a big day." Daniel tugs Max's soft pants down: Red Bull-branded sweats. It was probably impossible to get him back into his tight jeans, afterwards.

The skin on Max's arse and thighs is red-hot, spanked all over, but nothing looks bruised. Daniel skims his hands across, barely touching but Max still squirms against the sensation. The mechanics clearly love Max so much. They give him exactly what he needs and nothing more, always working together like a well-oiled machine even when said machine is a train they're running on Max.

Daniel slides his thumbs between Max's cheeks, starting from his taint and un-zippering upward, spreading Max so Daniel can inspect the damage. Someone has cleaned him up, got him all sorted out. His hole is like a halved cherry, like Max's lips when he's been biting them, all puffy and used and raw. Daniel can't help but press his face into it.

Max whines lightly when Daniel licks across his hole. He tastes like antiseptic and aloe, and beneath that copper and salt and the undeniable flavour of latex. "Everybody wrapped up?" Daniel asks, almost directly into Max's arsehole.

"Yes, of course," Max says. "It would be too messy if they didn't."

And there's another thought Daniel shouldn't have: Max so full of sperm that he's leaking down his crack and across his balls, all of it mixed together into a mystery sludge, and Daniel could suck every drop out of him.

"You can come on me, though, if you want," Max offers then, and Daniel doesn't need to be told twice.

Daniel kisses up Max's spine and shoves his hand into his own pants, pulls his dick out and strips it fast. He can't be bothered for finesse, suddenly on the edge, totally desperate. "They really got you good, huh?" He asks, mouthing Max's shoulders, his neck, the shell of his ear the same colour as his slapped arse.

"Mm hm," Max murmurs, face mashed into Daniel's pillow. He's gonna pass out any moment. "It was so lovely, Daniel. I wish I could just get fucked like that all the time, but then it wouldn't be special. I can still feel them all, inside. Like they are still doing it. Here, feel," he says, and pulls Daniel's free hand back to his hole just in time for Daniel to feel it pulse and throb against the tips of his fingers, a needy little mouth. And Daniel feeds it, striping Max's back and thighs and arse with his release as he comes.