#but guys I’ve ended up being right before

[greengoblinswifey]

Home For Christmas—Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— your boyfriend, Luigi, recently extradited to New York, faces a court hearing just days before Christmas, leaving you heartbroken and unsure if he'll make it home. against all odds, he is granted bail and surprises you by coming home for Christmas.

warnings—none! lots of fluff, luigi is a sweetheart, perfect christmas ending <3

a/n— My dms and asks have been blowing up with you guys clamoring for more Luigi content, so I decided to whip something up, enjoy <3. I truly don’t believe Luigi is guilty and would’ve hoped he would be home for Christmas :( I hope he gets out soon and won’t be sentenced.

The courtroom doors creaked open, and your breath hitched as Luigi walked in, surrounded by officers. He wore a burgundy sweater layered over a crisp white shirt, its collar peeking at the edges. His dark curls framed his face perfectly, and even though he looked composed, you could see the faint shadows under his eyes, the toll of the weeks apart was evident.

His gaze scanned the room until it landed on you. His steps faltered briefly, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You felt your chest tighten as he looked at you like you were the one ray of light in an otherwise dim world.

“Amore,” he mouthed, his voice soft even though you couldn’t hear it.

You couldn’t hold back your emotions. You smiled, brushing away the tears that threatened to spill over, and blew him a kiss. Luigi grinned in return, his confidence slipping back into place as though the sight of you gave him strength.

It had been weeks since you’d seen him, weeks of navigating the unbearable distance after his extradition to New York. Every call had been short, every letter cherished, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him.

When he was seated at the defendant’s table, Luigi tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes never leaving yours. “You came,” he whispered, his voice carrying an unmistakable mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

“Always,” you mouthed back.

The hearing began, the air in the room heavy as his lawyer argued for his release on bail. You knew the evidence was thin, there wasn’t enough to convict him of the CEO’s murder, but the stakes were still high. The very thought of him being sentenced, of losing him, made your heart clench.

During a brief recess, Luigi’s lawyer gestured for you to come forward. You hesitated for only a moment before making your way to the front, the officers giving you a wary glance but letting you pass.

As you approached, Luigi’s eyes softened, and he reached out slightly, his cuffed hands resting on the table. “Amore,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

Your lips trembled as you tried to hold back tears. “I missed you too, Lulu. More than anything.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m so sorry for all of this. For putting you through this. But you’ve kept me going.”

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re coming home, Luigi. I’ve talked to your lawyer, and we’ve worked everything out. The judge is going to grant bail. You’ll be home for Christmas.”

Luigi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Two days, just two more days.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands clenching into fists as he struggled to compose himself. “You’re my everything,” he murmured. “I don’t deserve you, but I swear, I’m going to make this right. I’ll make it all right.”

Before you could respond, the bailiff called for everyone to return to their seats. You reluctantly pulled away, but not before squeezing his hand one last time.

The judge’s decision came swiftly, Luigi would be released on bail, just in time for Christmas. As the words registered, you felt the weight you’d been carrying for weeks lift. Luigi turned to you, his eyes shining with relief and love.

“Looks like I’ll get to spend Christmas with my amore,” he said, his voice soft yet triumphant.

“I can’t wait,” you smiled through your tears, nodding.

When you finally got home that evening, the reality of it all hit you. Luigi was coming home in just two days. The thought alone brought tears to your eyes as you stepped into your apartment, flicking on the lights.

The soft glow of the Christmas tree filled the living room, and you froze in your tracks. Underneath the tree, there was a mountain of neatly wrapped gifts that hadn’t been there before. You blinked in confusion until you noticed a note placed delicately on the coffee table.

It was from Luigi’s lawyer.

Amore, the note read in Luigi’s familiar handwriting. I didn’t know if I’d make it home for Christmas, so I asked someone to help me make sure you were taken care of. I wanted you to have a perfect Christmas, even if I wasn’t there to share it with you. I love you.

You smiled, your heart aching with love as you knelt by the tree. The gifts were wrapped neatly, clearly not by Luigi himself and labeled with little tags in his messy handwriting. Your favorite perfume. A set of Victoria’s Secret lingerie and a cute silk pajama set. A cashmere sweater in your favorite color. A pair of designer heels you’d been eyeing for months but would never have splurged on.

Tears welled up as you unwrapped each thoughtful gift, your fingers trembling slightly. He’d thought of everything, even when he wasn’t sure he’d be here to see you open them.

Two days later, you stood at your front door, waiting as the sound of a car pulling up outside made your heart race. When the door opened, and Luigi stepped inside, you couldn’t hold yourself back.

“Lulu!” you cried, throwing yourself into his arms.

He dropped his bag instantly, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Amore,” he murmured, “I’m home.”

You pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his sharp jawline. “I missed you so so much,” you whispered before pressing your lips to his in a deep kiss.

Luigi groaned softly, pulling you even closer until your feet barely touched the ground. His hands slipped to your waist, then lower, gripping your hips and giving your ass a squeeze. “I missed everything about you,” he murmured against your lips.

“You’re not allowed to leave me like that again,” you teased, your fingers threading through his curls.

He smirked, his eyes darkening slightly. “Trust me, amore. I have no intention of being away from you ever again.”

The night continued with kisses and lingering touches all over. You showed Luigi the gifts you’d gotten him, a rare set of books he’d been searching for, a sleek leather jacket that fit him perfectly, and an intimate surprise, a pair of silk boxers with pictures of your face all over it.

Luigi laughed when he opened them, pulling you onto his lap as he held the boxers up. “Really, amore?” he teased, his hands sliding up your thighs.

“What? I thought you’d like them,” you said innocently, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you.

“I love them,” he murmured, his voice dropping as he kissed your neck.

The two of you spent the night cuddled on the couch, watching Christmas movies and sharing a blanket as the tree lights twinkled softly in the background.

You turned to face him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. “I’ll always wait for you, Luigi. You’re my home.”

Christmas morning was a quiet and cozy. The smell of hot chocolate and marshmallows filled the living room as you stretched out on the couch in your matching pajamas, wrapped in one of Luigi’s arms. His other hand rested on your knee, his thumb drawing lazy circles over the fabric.

“Good morning, amore,” he said, lips brushing against your forehead.

“Good morning,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied softly, his gaze warm.

Under the tree, there were more gifts to unwrap. Luigi insisted you go first, sitting back with a grin as you tore into one of his carefully wrapped presents. It was another beautifully thoughtful gift—an engraved gold bracelet with the words Sempre il mio cuore (Always my heart).

You stared at it for a moment, your chest tightening.

“Do you like it?” he asked, his tone suddenly vulnerable.

You nodded quickly, slipping it onto your wrist before throwing your arms around his neck. “I love it, Lulu. I love you.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “Good. Because I saw it, and I thought of you. Always my heart, amore. Always.”

You gave him a box that held an expensive perfume set he had been eyeing but never expected to have. Another had a small, vintage journal with an inscription from yourself inside the front cover, For the stories you’ll write one day.

The next gift made him grin even wider, a vintage Italian cookbook, filled with recipes you knew he loved.

“You spoil me,” he teased, leaning over to kiss you softly.

“Now I can teach you how to make the perfect lasagna,” he teased, flipping through the pages before looking up at you. “Thank you, amore. This is perfect.”

The day passed in a happy blur of laughter and kisses. You spent the afternoon in the kitchen, making Luigi’s favorite Italian dish, spaghetti alla carbonara, while he stayed close by, sneaking bites of the ingredients and kissing your cheek whenever he passed.

“You're going to burn the pasta if you keep distracting me,” you warned, laughing as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

“Let it burn,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I’d rather taste you than the pasta anyway.”

“Luigi!” you protested, though you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face.

Dinner was perfect, and afterward, the two of you curled up on the couch with a plate of cookies you’d baked together. The promise ring on your finger glinted in the light of the tree as Luigi traced the outline of it with his thumb.

“Do you know why I got you that?” he asked suddenly, his voice quiet.

You glanced at him, your head resting on his chest. “Why?”

“Because I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’m yours. Forever,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “Even when things got bad, when I was in a prison cell, all I thought about was you. You’re the reason I fought so hard to come home.”

Your throat tightened with emotion, and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re my home too, Luigi.”

The night ended with the two of you wrapped up in each other, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft shadows over the room. Luigi held you close, his hand tangled in your curls as he murmured sweet nothings in Italian.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so safe, so loved.

For the first time in a long time, Christmas felt like it should, celebration of love, laughter, and the promise of a future you’d both fight for.

[pickingupmymercedes]

A Christmas Carol - Lewis Hamilton

A Christmas Special

genre: fluff (there's a bit of angst because it wouldn't be me without it)

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Wasn't planning on doing one, but alas, like the Grinch "I'm toasty inside and I'm leaking". Hope you guys enjoy it.

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

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Christmas was supposed to feel magical. It was supposed to smell like cinnamon and pine, sound like kids laughing over the crinkle of wrapping paper, and taste like mulled wine and homemade cookies.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself as I power-walked from the kitchen to the dining room, a tray of meticulously arranged appetizers wobbling precariously in my hands.

“Where’s the rosemary garnish?” I called out, my voice sharper than I intended.

“On the counter where you left it,” my mom’s voice floated back, tinged with just enough exasperation to make me grit my teeth.

“Right, okay. Thanks!” I tried to sound upbeat, but it came out brittle, like one of the ornaments I’d already broken this week.

The house was perfect. Lewis’s Colorado cabin looked like it had been ripped from the pages of a Christmas catalog.

Snow blanketed the landscape outside, and the living room’s towering evergreen glittered with gold and red ornaments.

Both our families were here—mine and Lewis’s—mingling in various states of holiday cheer.

Everything looked exactly as it should.

So why did it feel like everything was on the verge of collapse?

I was usually the type to wing things. I’d always believed the joy was in the process, not the end result.

But this was different. This was the first Christmas we were hosting as a couple, the first time our families were all under one roof, and the first time I felt the weight of needing everything to be flawless.

“You’re overthinking it,” Lewis had said a week ago, catching me mid-panic as I tried to finalize the seating chart. “It’s Christmas. Nobody’s going to care if the napkins match the table runner.”

I’d rolled my eyes at him then, brushing off his easy confidence. “This is important, Lewis. It’s our first big family Christmas. I need it to be right.”

But now, with the pressure mounting and the hours slipping away, I was starting to wonder if he’d been right all along.

Still, I couldn’t stop.

There was too much to do, too much riding on this. It wasn’t just impressing everyone else; it was proving to myself that I could pull this off. That I could create something perfect.

“Y/n, the caterer just called. They’re going to be an hour late,” came Lewis’s voice from the kitchen, calm as ever.

I barely acknowledged him, my brain too busy spiraling into contingency plans.

Late appetizers meant a delayed dinner schedule, which meant the kids would get restless, which—… Okay, breathe.

“It’s fine,” I said tightly, not looking up from my task. “I’ll… figure it out.”

“Babe, it’ll be fine,” he replied, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe him. How could he be so relaxed about this?

This was the first time I could show everyone that I wasn’t just good at planning vacations—I could host the kind of Christmas that would make everyone look back and say “Remember that year at Lewis and Y/n’s place? That was perfect.”

But perfect came at a price. A steep one.

I was usually laid-back on holidays, but this one… well, I was turning into someone I didn’t entirely recognize.

Someone who had snapped at Lewis when he joked ironing the napkins was a bit much. Someone who brushed off my mom’s attempt to help set up because “I’ve got it, thanks.” Someone who hadn’t stopped to sit down—or breathe—since the day before.

I knew I was being ridiculous.

Rationally, I knew that no one cared if the table settings matched the garland on the fireplace or if the cranberry sauce came from a can instead of being homemade.

But rationality didn’t exactly have a seat at the table in my mind. Instead, it was crowded with doubts, insecurities, and the quiet, nagging fear that if I didn’t get this right, it meant something about me.

I wanted so badly to prove that I could do this—not to Lewis, not even to our families, but to myself. To prove that I could handle blending traditions, making everyone feel at home, and creating a holiday memory worth cherishing.

The irony? In chasing that, I was starting to lose the very thing that made Christmas special.

“Y/n,” Lewis called again, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. I realized I had been staring at the same strand of lights for a tad too long. “Why don’t you take a break? Have some wine or something.”

“I’m fine,” I said, sharper than intended. He didn’t reply, and the quiet that followed made me feel worse than any argument ever could.

I sighed, sinking to the floor, the lights still tangled in my hands.

I glanced around the room, the half-decorated tree leaning slightly to the right, the dining table still bare, and the unmistakable hum of chatter from the kitchen where both families mingled.

It wasn’t perfect. Not yet. But as I sat there, surrounded by the mess of my own making, a tiny voice in the back of my head whispered that it didn’t have to be.

I had just managed to shove the last box of ornaments under the console table when I heard a familiar voice call out, “Y/n! You didn’t even say hi when we walked in. What the hell?”

I turned, my brother already halfway across the room, his lopsided grin in place and a lumpy gift bag dangling from his hand. He had that look he always got when he was about to annoy me out of spite.

“Hey,” I muttered distractedly, glancing at the clock. Dinner prep was starting to fall behind, and I still hadn’t decided which candles to put on the table.

He stopped in front of me, arms crossed. “That’s it? Not even a ‘Merry Christmas, so glad you’re here, oh wise older sibling who taught me everything I know?’”

“I don’t have time for this, asshole” I said, brushing past him to fix the garland over the fireplace. “You and everyone else are so very welcome here, but I have a million things to do.”

He let out a low whistle. “Wow. Someone’s really leaning into their inner Scrooge this year.”

I didn’t bother responding, too busy adjusting a stocking that was slightly off-center.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he asked, softer this time. “You didn’t even notice when your niece tried to hug you.”

Guilt hit me like a truck, but I pushed it aside. “Nothing, I swear. I just… I want everything to be perfect, for her too, okay?”

“Perfect?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who once wrapped all Christmas presents in newspaper and duct tape because you forgot to buy wrapping paper.”

“I was sixteen and broke.” I snapped.

“And happy,” he countered, his voice pointed but not, at all, unkind. “We all were. Because no one cared what the presents looked like. Or if the tree was crooked or the turkey was dry. We were just… together. That’s what made it Christmas.”

I turned to face him, arms crossed. “Are you seriously trying to give me some kind of Christmas ghost speech right now? Because I don’t have time for—”

“Maybe you should make time” he interrupted, and for once, there was no teasing in his tone.

I hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in despite my resistance.

“Look, I get it” he continued, his voice softening again. “You want this to be special, and it will be. But not because of the table settings or the garland or whatever else you’re obsessing over. It’ll be special because you’re here, and we’re here, and that’s all that ever mattered to us as kids. It’s all that matters now, too.”

“Thanks for the Hallmark moment. Really. But I have things to do.” I sighted instead of admitting he was right, as I turned back to the fireplace.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped back. “Suit yourself, sis. But don’t come crying to me when the ghost of Christmas present shows up later to say ‘I told you so.’ over dessert”

I was halfway into rolling my eyes when it hit me. The pie.  but couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at my lips as he walked away. Still, his words lingered, like the faint smell of cinnamon that seemed to follow me everywhere this week.

“Seriously, what’s going on, now you look like you seen a ghost?” my brother asked, peering into the living room.

“Oh, no,” I whispered, the realization hitting me like a freight train. I had forgotten dessert.

My brother smirked. “Guess perfection really is a myth.”

Lewis appeared in the doorway; eyebrows raised in concern. “Everything okay?”

“No,” I admitted, my voice cracking. “I forgot the dessert. I can’t believe I forgot the dessert.”

“Babe, it’s not a big deal,” he said gently, resting a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got plenty of food.”

“It’s Christmas, Lewis!” I suppressed a yell. “You’re supposed to have something sweet.”

Lewis exchanged a glance with my brother, who shrugged as if to say, ‘Your turn.’

“Hey,” Lewis said, tilting my chin up so I’d look at him. “What’s the one thing you always say when things don’t go according to plan?”

I blinked at him, tears threatening. “I don’t know.”

“You say, ‘We’ll figure it out.’”

“I’ve got it” I replied, careful to keep my tone light.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he came closer, a quiet warmth that made me hyper-aware of how tightly I was holding onto the matchbox in my hand.

“Y/n,” he said softly, and that was all it took for my defenses to wobble.

I set the matchbox down with a shaky exhale, staring at the empty plates in front of me. “I just want everything to be perfect” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

He stepped closer, his hands brushing lightly against my arms before resting on my shoulders. “It already is” he said.

I laughed under my breath, a sound that came out more bitter than I intended. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen the cranberry sauce yet.”

“Babe” he said, his voice full of that frustrating calmness that made me want to hug him and throw something at him, at the same time. “No one’s here for cranberry sauce.”

I turned to face him, ready to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped me cold.

They weren’t teasing or dismissive or even annoyed, like I probably deserved after snapping at him all day. They were warm, steady, and so full of love it made my chest ache.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” he asked gently, his thumbs rubbing small circles against my arm. “You’ve been running around for days like you’re hosting the royal family instead of our families. What’s really going on?”

I swallowed hard, my resolve starting to crack. “I just…” My voice wavered, and I hated how small I sounded. “I want them to have a good time. I want them to see that we’re good at this, that we’ve got it all together.”

He tilted his head, studying me with that quiet intensity he always had when he was trying to read between the lines.

“You mean you want to prove that you’re good at this,” he said softly, and the truth of it hit me like a punch to the gut.

I dropped my gaze, staring at the floor like it might hold some kind of answer. “It’s stupid, I know” I whispered.

“It’s not stupid,” he said, his voice firm. “But you don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Y/n. Not to our families, not to me, and definitely not to yourself. You’ve already done more than enough by bringing them all over.”

I shook my head, tears prickling at the edges of my eyes. “It doesn’t feel like enough. I just… I want them to look back at this and remember it as something special.”

He reached out, tipping my chin up so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. “They will,” he said simply. “Not because of the candles or the napkins or whatever else you’ve been stressing over, but because they’re here. Together. And because you made that happen.”

His words settled over, softening the tension in my shoulders and quieting the storm in my mind.

“I don’t know how you always do that,” I said with a shaky laugh, brushing at my eyes.

“Do what?”

“Manage to say the exact thing I need to hear, even when I don’t want to hear it. Especially then”

He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. “It’s a talent,” he said lightly, his tone teasing but his eyes still serious.

I leaned into him, letting the steady beat of his heart anchor me. For the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe again.

“You’re right,” I admitted quietly.

“About everything?”

“Don’t push your luck” I muttered, earning a soft laugh from him.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands still resting on my waist. “Come sit with us for a while,” he said. “The table can wait. Dinner can wait. Right now, I just want you to stop and enjoy this.”

I hesitated, my gaze flicking toward the half-finished table.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice low and insistent. “Please.”

The weight of that single word unraveled the last of my resistance.

“Okay,” I said softly, letting him guide me toward the living room and let myself just be.

Dinner was still salvageable, the table was mostly set, and the stockings—mercifully—were straightened.

It was fine. I was fine. We would be fine.

I hadn’t slept much. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the last few days finally wearing off, or maybe it was the quiet nagging feeling that I hadn’t quite nailed it.

Either way, when Lewis stirred beside me at the crack of dawn, his alarm buzzing softly, I was already awake.

He leaned over to kiss my forehead, murmuring something about taking a quick shower before the kids woke up. I mumbled back something that sounded vaguely coherent, but the moment he stepped into the bathroom, I slipped out of bed.

Still in my pajamas, hair a mess, and not a speck of makeup to hide behind, I padded softly down the stairs. The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that only comes in those fleeting moments before the day begins.

The living room came into view, and I froze for a moment, leaning against the doorway. The tree stood tall, its lights casting a soft, golden glow over the room.

The presents we’d spent hours wrapping were still neatly stacked, though I knew that wouldn’t last long.

I sat down on the edge of the couch, tucking my knees under me as I watched the room come alive in slow motion.

First came one of Lewis’s nieces, her sleepy face lighting up the moment she spotted the tree. She gasped, then bolted back upstairs, her little feet pounding against the steps as she woke her brother.

A chain reaction followed—one by one, the kids tumbled into the room, wide-eyed and buzzing with excitement.

Next came my mom, her robe tied loosely around her as she headed straight for the kitchen.

I could hear her humming a Christmas carol as she rummaged for the hot cocoa mix. Within minutes, the scent of chocolate and marshmallows filled the air, mingling with the pine of the tree.

I didn’t say anything; I just watched.

Watched as the kids tore into their presents, the floor quickly becoming a chaotic sea of wrapping paper.

Watched as my mom handed a steaming mug to each child, all looking up at her with a grateful smile.

Watched as my brother shuffled in, still half-asleep but smiling as he plopped onto a chair with his coffee.

And then, almost as if she sensed I needed it, my mom came over to the couch and sat beside me, handing me a mug of cocoa, the marshmallows bobbing at the surface, and settled in with a soft sigh by my side.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she said, her voice as warm as the drink in my hands.

“Merry Christmas, Mom” I replied, leaning my head on her shoulder.

We sat there for a while, watching the chaos unfold.

One of the kids trying to explain a new gadget to my dad, while my niece proudly displayed her new doll to Lewis’s mom.

It was loud and messy and completely uncoordinated.

And it was perfect.

“This reminds me of Christmas when we were kids,” I said quietly, my voice almost drowned out by the laughter and chatter.

My mom turned to look at me, her brow lifting slightly.

“You know,” I continued, smiling faintly at the memory. “When we’d open our presents in the morning, and you and Dad would be in the kitchen getting food ready. All the relatives would be there, the cousins running around, someone always spilling something…” I trailed off, shaking my head. “It was chaos, but it felt like Christmas.”

My mom chuckled, her hand brushing against mine as she squeezed it gently. “That’s what makes it special, honey. It’s never about the perfect decorations or the perfect dinner. It’s about… this.”

She gestured to the room, where Lewis’s nephew was now gleefully dragging people to play with him, everyone looking thoroughly confused but nodding enthusiastically anyway.

“The mess?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“The mess,” she affirmed, smiling. “The people. The noise. The love in all of it.”

I blinked back the sting of tears, resting my head against her shoulder again. For so long, I’d been chasing perfection, thinking it was the key to creating something memorable.

But sitting there, surrounded by laughter and torn wrapping paper and the occasional shout of “Where are the batteries?”—I realized I already had everything I’d been looking for.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“I hope I get it this messy, this right, every year” I said softly, my voice thick with emotion.

She didn’t reply, just leaned her head against mine, and we sat there in the quiet chaos, letting it all wash over us.

It wasn’t what I had planned. It wasn’t perfect.

It was better. So much better

And as if on cue, my mom glanced up and caught sight of Lewis standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

His hands tucked into the pockets of his pajama pants, his grin warm and knowing as he watched us. With a soft smile, she nudged me gently.

“Someone’s waiting for you” my mom murmured before excusing herself, her footsteps light as she headed toward the kitchen.

Lewis didn’t waste a second, crossing the room to take her spot beside me on the sofa. He flopped down with exaggerated effort, his arm draping lazily along the back of the couch.

“Well, well,” he teased, tilting his head to look at me. “I don’t think I’ve seen you out of the bedroom without a fully picked-out outfit, perfect hair, and makeup in days?”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “I’ve been… intense. Haven’t I?”

“A bit” Lewis replied, grinning as he reached over to tug my hands away. “But only because you care”

I lowered my hands, glancing at him shyly. “I just... I wanted this to be perfect. I needed it to be perfect. Not just for everyone else but—” She hesitated, her voice faltering.

“But?” he prompted, his tone gentle.

I bit my lip, my gaze flicking to the kids tearing through their gifts, then back to him. “But for me. For us. For... the possibility that this might be our future someday.”

The words faltered, vulnerable and unsure.

Lewis didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he reached out, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his chest.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You don’t have to try so hard. You’re already more than perfect.”

I let out a small, disbelieving laugh, but he pulled back just enough to cup my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over my cheeks as he looked me in the eyes.

“I mean it,” he said firmly. “I’ve been dreaming about a future with you long before these past few days. Ever since I saw you barefoot on that trail, convincing Willow it was the best way to feel the earth beneath her. Since you let Roscoe slobber all over you on the beach the very first time you met him. Since we spent three days on that road trip, eating two-day-old sandwiches and drinking from streams, and you still made it feel like the greatest adventure of our lives.”

My eyes glistened, a shy smile tugging at my lips. “You’re really pulling out all the stops here, aren’t you?”

“Whatever it takes” he replied with a playful grin before his expression softened again. “ You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Least of all me.”

We stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other, watching the kids dive into their presents. The room buzzing with laughter and the occasional triumphant shout of “Look what I got!”

My chest felt lighter than it had in days, my worries dissolving like the marshmallows in my cocoa.

I rested my head against Lewis’s shoulder, my heart settling into a steady rhythm that matched his.

But then, a thought struck and I sat up abruptly.

“Where are you going?” Lewis asked, trying to pull me back by the waist.

I swatted his hand away with a smirk. “You’ll see.”

I sprang to my feet, clapping my hands to gather the kids’ attention. “Alright, who’s ready to make a mess in the kitchen?”

A chorus of enthusiastic “Me!” erupted as they abandoned their toys and raced toward me.

I led them to the kitchen, my laughter echoing through the house as I opened cabinets and pulled out bowls, flour, and cookie cutters.

Within minutes, the kitchen was alive —flour flying, cookie dough being enthusiastically rolled and eaten, and the sound of uncontainable giggles filling the air.

Lewis stayed back, leaning against the back of the sofa, watching the scene unfold with a smile tugging at his lips.

I caught his eye once, winking at him as I smeared a dollop of cookie batter on one of the kids’ noses, eliciting a delighted squeal.

This could be our forever. Far from perfect, but perfectly us.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

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@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay @thesizzler

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[defmaybe]

Stuffed

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1, December 25th, 2024

ARTMS' Jeon Heejin & Kim Jungeun/Kim Lip x Male Reader

2.5k words

“Hey!”

A sound comes from your back in the long hallway of the hotel. It’s Heejin. She looks as beautiful as ever—brown eyes, sharp nose, and that pretty little mouth—but what could she want at this hour? It’s 11 P.M.!

“Hey,” you reply, perplexed by her antics late at night. You’re in your comfy pajamas right now, and you couldn’t have possibly been arsed with another errand for the women. “What is it, Heejin?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking–” she pauses, letting the anticipation linger in the air. You gulp. “–it’s coming towards the end of the tour.”

She stops again.

Is it something shameful?

“Yes, Heejin?”

“And with all the things you’ve done, I’d like to thank you with something,” says Heejin, twisting her hair with her fingers. Her eyes are darting everywhere else but yours, tiptoeing.

It’s definitely something shameful, but you really have to go to sleep for now.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself. “Heejin, I do appreciate it, really, but–”

“It won’t be long, trust me,” she pleads, holding onto your hands.

She really needs you to see it.

“Heejin, please, I want to go–”

Your train of thoughts is wrecked as Heejin pulls out her puppy eyes. Fuck, they’re irresistible.

And you just have to give in. 

“Fine, just–take me to the place,” you groan.

She beams before leading you to the reward. She always looks like an angel when she smiles, and you can’t help but smile along with her.

She guides you into her room. It’s spacious and cozy. A television. A make-up table. A bathroom. There’s everything that a hotel room should have.

But there’s something off with this room, and it’s not the fact that Jungeun, in her black dress, is sitting on the bed, joining Heejin in her thankful gesture. Her face is unreadable.

It’s the strap-ons beside her—two of them, to be exact. Your eyes widen at the implications. 

You’re getting pegged tonight, and the flaccid cock inside your shorts starts to grow.

You turn to Heejin. “H–Heejin, what’s this? Am I getting–”

“You’re right! We’ll be pegging you tonight!” Heejin says.

The size doesn’t look compromising for your holes at all. You’re definitely getting gaped by them.

“W–With those?”

Jungeun joins the conversation, expressionless, “Yeah.”

“B–But how? What? Do you guys just carry around lube during the tour and waiting to fuck my ass in the final days?” you have to ask, trying to delay the unavoidable.

Jungeun lets out a small chuckle. “Well, what do you think?”

Your mouth opens wide, not expecting such a gesture from the women. You’re appreciative of it, of course, but just not tonight—when you’re this damn drowsy.

“Girls, I just don’t think–ah!”

Heejin pulls your shorts down in a swoop, revealing your hard cock beneath, already leaking from the thought of being used by these women.

You turn back to her. “Heejin!”

A giggle leaves her pretty lips before tossing the shorts away to the side of the bed. “On all fours, please, cutie.”

“We’re not doing this again after today, baby–” says Jungeun, smirking, patting the space beside her. “–better listen to Heejin.”

You alternate between Heejin and Jungeun nervously, before complying with the request. You climb onto the bed, on all fours. Your ass is exposed to the cold air of the room. You start to shiver.

“Good boy,” Jungeun says, before sucking her middle finger and sticking it into your snug hole.

Pain and pleasure shoots through you like a bullet. You hear a giggle from the women. Jungeun slowly pushes her slim finger into you. You wail and wail from the sensations.

“Fuck!”

“Keep moaning like that, baby. This is just a warmup,” Jungeun says.

Heejin walks towards you, giving your ass a loud smack, sending a shockwave through you once more. 

“Fuck, shit!”

The women chuckle again. You can feel Jungeun’s finger buried inside your ass up to the hilt. Your body shakes and writhes in response.

“Do you want daddy to nudge that prostate, baby?” Jungeun asks.

You suck a sudden, torn between wanting her finger out of your asshole and being stimulated by that lean digit of hers.

And you give in to the pleasure.

“Y–Yes, d–daddy.”

The first flick elicits a loud moan out of you. You feel like some common whore at this point—having your mushy prostate played with. Your body shivers erratically.

“Hmm, good boy,” utters Jungeun before flicking her finger again. Your body tenses up at her touch.

She pushes her finger into your softness again, and again, and again. Your cock twitches and shakes as the rapture is shot through you. You wail and whimper erratically.

From behind, Heejin climbs onto the bed to face your gleefully contorted face, smiling. The finger inside your ass cannot change your opinion on her—she’s still fucking gorgeous.

“Baby boy,” says Heejin, tilting her head just a little.

“Y–Yes, daddy?”

She lifts a finger up before pushing it softly into your mouth. You taste the hint of sweat on her finger, staring drunkenly into her hypnotic eyes, gleaming with desire. You’re moaning into her digit from the penetration from behind. She’s smiling, and you can do this just forever. Jungeun is still playing with your soft prostate. Your body is starting to get sore now from the submissive posture. Each nibbling of her digit brings out an airy moan onto Heejin’s finger.

“You’re such a good boy for us, you know?” Heejin says, inserting another finger into your mouth.

“Th–Thanks, daddy,” you reply, slightly muted.

After what felt like an eternity, Jungeun pulls her finger out of your now-spread hole. It heaves, missing its stuffing. You shriek at the absence of her digit, but you know that there’s going to be something else filling you up.

You keep sucking Heejin’s fingers. She’s salty. You feel so submissive right now, and you’d do anything to let this go on for forever.

“Alright, pretty boy, time for the big thing now,” says Jungeun. She takes off her sweatpants swiftly. You pull off from Heejin’s fingers to look back at what’s going on behind you. Again, your eyes widen at the sight.

Jungeun is putting on the harness strapped with a huge phallus, ready to thrust into your tightness with the object. Your breathing speeds up, excited by her gigantic cock.

And she remembers something.

“Shit, I’ll go wash my hands first.” Jungeun then hastily heads to the bathroom.

“Sure! I’ll watch our pretty boy closely,” Heejin purrs with a smirk. Her free hand forcefully grabs you by the chin to look into her ethereal eyes.

“Are you ready to be fucked by us, baby?” Heejin looks into your eyes, and they’re gleaming with desire. You’re lost in it. Fuck.

“Y–Yes, daddy,” you can only comply, before Heejin pulls her pants down quickly on the bed, throwing it to god knows where. Your eyes are glued to her wet cunt, but sadly (or not), that’s not going to be your main dish today.

You’re still on all fours, holes ready to be abused by these women like a common whore. Heejin puts on her strap quickly. She just can’t wait to fuck your tightness until you’re unable to walk tomorrow. Those people at the airport are going to laugh at you, walking weakly into the immigration section.

“Turn around, baby,” Heejin says softly, such a contradiction to the gigantic cock she’s wearing. You comply with her request, slowly turning around for your ass to sit against her plastic hardness. You can see a faint reflection of you two on the television.

Suddenly, Heejin grips onto your waist with her soft hands, and you shiver at the coldness of it from the air conditioner. Perhaps they’re a bit too cold.

“I–It’s so cold, daddy.”

“You’ll be fine, baby. You’ll forget how cold my hands are when my dick is in your ass.” And you hear her giggle.

Heejin then pours a generous amount of lube onto her cock, while also plunging her wet finger inside your tightness, painting your inner walls with lubricant. Your body trembles in response. Fuck, she even plays with your prostate just like Jungeun did.

“I’m going to get you nice and wet, okay? Don’t be so tense,” says Heejin, finally pulling her finger out after a while, before pushing the tip into your asshole. She’s fucking you now. So soft, yet so confident in her strokes.

“Fuck!” you cry out in pleasure. Your ass is getting gaped by Heejin’s strap. She’s so big, and you can’t help but shake and writhe as the phallus slowly finds its place inside you.

“Good boy, moan for me like that, baby. Your moan is like a song to me, a damn good one,” Heejin coos.

Her length is slowly pushed and pushed inside you. Its artificial veins graze the walls of your tight asshole. Her grips on your waist grow harsher, but you forget the coldness of them now. With this dick inside your ass, you just can’t think straight.

“You’re s–so big, daddy. I’m so dizzy, hhgnn,” you moan, your mind is going haywire now. You’re at her mercy.

“You’re doing this so well, baby. You’re taking my cock like a champ. Just one more inch and I’ll be fully inside you!”

Her dick starts to press into your prostate gently, sending unbearable pleasure through you. You moan and wail like a slut as it puts a pressure onto your softness until she halts her movement. She’s there. She’s at the hilt.

“I–Is it all inside me, daddy?” you ask; your body is still shaking from the divine rapture Heejin is giving to you.

“Yes, baby, I’m pulling out now.”

Heejin then pulls her enormous cock out of you, slowly. And when it’s half out, she rams it back into you, causing you to moan like a cock-drunk slut.

“Daddy! Ngh.”

“Good boy, good boy,” Heejin coos. Her cock contradicts her gentle words.

“Alright, guys, let’s get this done–” Jungeun walks out of the bathroom, and you see her gasp in shock. “This is not what we’ve agreed on, Heejin.”

Again, you hear Heejin giggle. “Come on, Jungeun. You got to play with his ass, let me!” she purrs.

“Aside, he still has another hole you can fill.” Heejin then reaches for your mouth, inserting her fingers into you and pulling your head up gently from the inside of your hole. Your body arches.

“Ugh, fine, Heejin. But next time, I want to fuck his ass for real, alright?” Jungeun growls before walking towards you. Her artificial cock bounces with her movement before she stops right in front of you.

“Take it, baby, say ah,” Heejin coos.

You play along with her, “Ah.”

Jungeun’s cock is dangling against your face, so lengthy, so thick. Globs of your spit are going to leak out of your mouth when she fucks it roughly.

She grabs onto your head as Heejin lets go of it, leaving your head swaying freely from the force that she fucks you. Jungeun holds her plastic dick in front of your needy lips. You’re still letting out an ‘ah’ sound, ready to take her hardness inside your mouth.

Languidly, Jungeun pushes her length into you, and you start to gag as it reaches the inside of your mouth. You won’t complain, of course (aside from the fact that Jungeun’s cock is in your mouth). You’re happy to be freely used by these women like this while calling them daddy and such monikers. Drool leaks out of your mouth like a fountain. Your eyes flutter with unmatchable pleasure from the women. Your holes are abused roughly, and you’re ecstatic to be their prey.

Jungeun’s cock is slowly pressed into your slutty throat. You gag loudly, but they don’t care, seeing the wanton eyes and all.

“Yes, take my cock like that, you slut,” Jungeun says, grabbing onto the side of your head roughly. Her nails are digging into your scalp. Pain shoots through you. “Such a good boy for daddy.”

You scream into her cock, but it goes unheard, as she starts to pick up her pace quickly. She thrusts and thrusts into your needy mouth. Globs of spit leaks out of your mouth onto the bed. The sound you make is intelligible.

You absolutely adore the way these women are using and abusing you like this–Jungeun pressing her cock into your needy, wanton mouth, and Heejin plunging her dick into your tightness from behind. It’s an ecstatic feeling, really, to be used and abused like this.

“What a cockslut,” Jungeun says sternly. Her cock still ravaging your throat. You gag and gag endlessly, but you’re damn happy to take all of her. Your eyes can’t see anything straight now; they flutter and flutter and Jungeun rams into your hole. Her scent fills your nostrils—musky and tart. It’s like an aphrodisiac.

She then grips onto the back of your head, as if taking it to the hilt isn’t just enough. Suddenly, Jungeun presses herself onto your nose, making your air just the scent of her, all while Heejin is hammering into your prostate. Your mouth is full of her plastic cock.

You can barely breathe. Your eyes water. You make gagging sounds. Though that means shit. You’re revelling in the way you’re sucking Jungeun’s cock, buried inside your slutty mouth. Heejin is fucking your asshole from behind, chasing your orgasm like a prize.

Her tartness is filling your nose. You’re hypnotized by it. You’re so ready to follow any of her commands. Her eyes then meet yours. They gleam with unmatchable sinfulness. She wants this, and you want this.

After a short while, Jungeun pulls her cock out of your used mouth. Your body is shaking and writhing from the pleasure ringing inside you, all while strings of saliva connect your mouth with her phallus.

“Good fucking boy,” Heejin grunts, and you can only smile back at her.

“T–Thanks–cough–daddy,” you sputter out.

Jungeun starts pushing her cock into your slutty mouth again, this time thrusting in and out of it. Your prostate is getting assaulted by Heejin’s cock, one bang after another. Her nails are still digging into your creamy skin on the sides. And the feeling starts to build up inside your stomach. The storm is approaching. You’re going to cum soon!

“D–Daddy,” you say, gagged, muffled by Jungeun’s cock.

“Yes?” Heejin and Jungeun say in unison, and they let out a laugh after—a wicked one.

“I’m gonna–ngh–cum.”

“Cum for us, pretty boy. Consider this your reward,” Jungeun growls, as Heejin giggles from behind you.

Your muscles tense up. Your breaths are growing faster onto Jungeun’s meaty thighs. Heejin is thrusting in and out of you faster than before. She then gives you a loud spank, sending another electric charge through you.

And you break, your cock spills cum out onto the white bedsheets. Your body spasms and shakes as Heejin and Jungeun thrust their cock into you. Those poor staff are going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow.

It’s a copious amount of cum that leaks out of you. You can feel your dick twitches in pleasure. Successive spurts grow softer and softer, and finally, the orgasm dies down. You pant and pant onto Jungeun’s cock, and they seem to catch the stride and pull their lengths out of you. Breathing becomes easier, but your asshole is sorely missing Heejin’s cock. You’re too tired to say anything, though.

“That was so good, baby,” Heejin says, giving your reddened rear another hard spank. You shudder in response.

“I wish we had more time for this, fuck,” Jungeun says, slowly taking her strap off. Heejin is doing the same.

Tired, used, and naked from below the waist, you collapse to the side, panting. Your butthole heaves, missing the presence of its filling. You’re unable to close your mouth too, jaw still adjusting to the absence of a cock.

“Look at him, so cute~,” Heejin says, patting your back to sleep.

“Next time, I’m fucking his ass, Heejin. Don’t pull another shit like this on me.”

“Fineee.”

Your body is all sore from all the stuffing they’ve done to you, but your mind is still in haywire, basking in the joy they’ve inflicted you. And you close your eyes, falling into the nocturne.

—

[zweetpea]

Bride of the dragon: Prologue

CW: talks to heirs

Summary: The princess has been taken by the dragon as his bride while a mysterious knight has been tasked with getting her back. The only problem is that the princess wants to stay with the dragon. She went with him willingly as his bride. The two must now learn to love each other which seems to be easier done than said (yes you heard me right). But is their love story as simple as it seems on the surface? read to find out!

IT'S FINALLY HERE! THE FIC YOU"VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! BASED ON THIS!!

.....

“Princess! I’m here to rescue you!” The blonde night with long braided hair and golden eyes rolled up on a white horse to the desolate, ruinous castle.

“No thanks! She called out, unbothered. She lounged on her balcony reading a book and sipping some tea.

The knight blinked twice in surprise and confusion. “...What?” 

“I’m good.” She shouted flatly as she turned the page.

“But- but I’ve been sent to rescue you!” He laughed slightly, hoping that this was some sick joke or that she was lying for some reason.

“Listen buddy! I’m not leaving so you can either leave now or you can get your butt handed to you by my husband!”

“Wha- HUSBAND?! You can’t possibly mean the dragon can you?” He growled condescendingly.

“I do.” She sneered. She walked back into her cleanly kept and extravagantly decorated room. “Neuvillette!” The princess screamed acrimoniously.

“Yes, my dear?” He smiled politely at her as he rushed into the room.

“There's another guy trying to rescue me.” She spat annoyed. It was rather frustrating that hundreds of people were shaming her life choices. They had no right to tell her how to live or what to do. “Could you please help me out?”

“I suppose I could… in exchange for something.” His voice was playful as was the smirk that graced his lips.

The princess scoffed and smiled slightly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” She couldn’t contain the teasing tone in her voice. She walked over and pulled his pristine suit down so she could kiss him. It wasn’t easy being married to someone 6 '10 who constantly demanded (pleaded) naked for affection in return for the comfy, private, pampered life you now lead with him. Though you suppose you couldn’t exactly blame him. He was a dragon hybrid and thus it was in his nature to constantly seek the affection of his mate.

He pulled her closer for a second. His soft lips danced against hers in a way that comforted her. He pulled away slightly before pressing a kiss to her forehead. His voice was soft and reassuring as he looked her in the eyes: “I will be back.”

“Don’t kill him.” She teased with a soft smile.

He laughed slightly. “No promises~” and with that he excused himself.

The princess looked around her room. It was so beautiful. Different shades of blue lined the walls in creative patterns like raindrops on windows. White and silver columns sat in the corners and around the doors to the hall, balcony, walk in wardrobe, and en suite. A four poster bed sat on a platform at one end of the room. Her royal blue, silk sheets still smelled of Neuvillette from the last time he came over to cuddle. 

She sat on the bed and reminisced about when she and Neuvi made this deal. She agreed to be his wife on the condition that she would never have to go back to the golden leash that was the throne. Her younger sister was more than understanding and willing to take up the burden of the throne so their kingdom wasn’t left to ruin. Of course, Neuvillette had a condition as well. She would have to be willing to be intimate and eventually mate with him. She didn’t mind, as he hadn’t asked for more than cuddling and kissing so far. Eventually she thinks she’ll love him enough to have his hatchlings but she wasn’t exactly concerned with it right now as everytime it was brought up Neuvillette became a flustered mess.

She walked out onto the balcony and saw Neuvillette dragging the unconscious knight away from the mountain castle. She howled with laughter at his pouty little walk. He was so cute when he was protective of her. She couldn’t blame him though. It was extremely irritating having someone new every other week show up in the hopes of “rescuing” her. All she wanted to do was cuddle her husband and read in peace.

When he came back he pulled her into his embrace again and just breathed in her scent. On one hand it was nice having her ground him like that, but on the other hand his instincts screamed for him to envelop her in his smell as a warning to all other creatures that he had won the beautiful princess’s hand in marriage and he would never let her go.

“Neuvi?” She looked up at him with big, pleading, doe eyes.

He was quick to respond, “Yes, my dear?” He tried not to sound desperate.

“Can we get some lunch? I’m hungry.” She smiled sweetly.

He chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Of course, my dear. I’ll have the Melusines prepare your favorite meal. Unless you’d like to try something new?” He raised an eyebrow prodding for her preference. 

She thought for a moment before her face lit up. “Black Bach Perch Stew please!”

“Then that is what we shall have. Come. let’s head off.” He smiled softly and grabbed her hand. She intertwined their fingers and walked off. Yeah… there was no way he’d ever let her go…

[adoremattsturns]

Stranger - C.S.

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?”

summary: it has been 4 months since you and chris broke up. you one day bump into each other at a party. sparks fly and things feel… different. was it you or him who changed?

warnings: SMUT, dom!chris, fem!reader, swearing, kissing, p in v, unprotected sex (please dont do this )

(p.s. i’ve never written smut before so please bear with me 😭)

you didn’t care for chris anymore. at least you thought you didn’t. you were having so much fun with your friends this saturday night. your black strapless mini dress riding up every now and then but you didn’t care. all that mattered was you and how much fun you were having.

you walked down the hallway when you saw nick. you guys were still close even after you and chris. but, if nick was here chris had to be here as well which made your stomach churn for some unknown reasons. you gave nick a hug and sprinted to the rest room to message your friend claire.

you: is chris anywhere out there????

claire: he’s in line for the bathroom

shit. you thought before texting her again

you: where in line…?

claire: up next….🧍‍♀️

“are you fucking kidding me” you mumbled, putting your phone away and fixing yourself in the mirror before opening the restroom door.

anytime you and chris were ever at the same function, gathering, or any public event that involved each other you guys acted like strangers. seemed like two people with no history, no connections, nothing. appearing from the mist and disappearing.

chris had no idea you were here until he saw claire staring at him and then typing on your phone. you had to be there somewhere. you both made eye contact when you opened the door. you tried walking away before he stopped you and whispered in your ear. “meet me here in 10 once this line clears up yeah?” you rolled your eyes “like hell i would.” “y’know you wan’ to.” “fuck you christopher.” you said before walking away. you hated him with all of your being. he might’ve ended it since he “cheated” on you but the truth is he kind of missed you. he never cheated but in the heat of the moment he went along with that stupid story. since that’s what you wanted to believe instead of him.

he still hated you as well. not being able to stand your stupid pretty face. he wanted to get at you. so thats what made him say to meet him in the restroom.

10 minutes later

chris: i dont have all day pretty girl hurry tf up

you: i already told you no fuck off

chris: get over here or im dragging your ass to me

you: whatever

you agreed to meet him at the bathroom. you had no idea why you did it but it felt right to accept.

you knocked on the door 5 times, it unlocked and opened 3 seconds later. chris had his black hoodie on which hid his wavy brown hair. he dragged you into the bathroom by the arm and proceeded to gently push you against the door once he closed it.

he eyed you up and down which made your cheeks tint a bright pink. “why- what do you want?” you stumbled feeling scared. “i just wanna get you to realize that i didn’t cheat” he grumbled getting closer to you.

your breath hitched, as his lips grazed your ear “i don’t get why the fuck you believed that stupid idiot. i didn’t cheat and you know it. but since you wanna play coy i can show you i didn’t in a different way” “w-what? no your not doing anything to me” “y’know you wan’ to tho”. you rolled your eyes. you did. he was the only person who knew what you liked and wanted and it wasn’t fun. he gently grabbed the side of your neck and pressed his lips to yours, which you leaned into.

things progressed which lead to you sitting on top of the sink counter. “please chris-” you whined “just tell me what ya want ma, i know you can”. “i need you please-” you whined again.

with that he grabbed you and placed you on your feet, flipping you over by the hips and pulled your ass up, bunching up your dress at your hips. he undid his belt and took of his black jeans and boxers. he pulled down your black lacy panties and proceeded to slap your ass which made you yelp. “i’ve always said you got a nice ass on you ma.” he muttered as he pumped himself with his free hand.

chris rubbed his tip against your folds before slowly pushing in, going in fully to let you bottom out. “mmmpf chris fuck-” you moaned feeling full. “so fuckin’ tight pretty girl”

he began to thrust in and out of you, his eyes stared at you through the mirror “you like this shit huh?” your eyes rolled back but you nodded. “i need words and i need you to look at me sweetheart.”

you moaned and squirmed as chris wraps his arm around your waist and dips his hand down to your clit. “mm, so good f’me fuck-” he praised, leaning down to kiss your neck and shoulders

“c-chris! fuck!-” you moaned, which made him slap your ass. “sweetheart you need to be quiet, this is a party not your house” he growled. he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your which made you arch your back, his tip kissing your cervix. “chris i cant ima-” you squealed, clenching around him. “you wanna cum ma? go ahead baby, wanna hear you scream it.” “thank you- chris! fuck oh my go-” you moaned loudly.

“your okay sweetheart i gotcha don’ worry.” he praised as you squeezed him, making him cum as well. stuffing you full.

he pulled out and cleaned himself up. sitting you on the cold marble of the bathroom counter and cleaning you up with wipes that were under the sink…you whined at the cold feeling “shh, i know pretty girl its okay… its all gonna be over in just a little okay?” “mhm..” you muttered, holding onto his shoulders. “you okay?” he asked kissing your cheek. “y-yeah….” you stuttered. “good. well i guess this is goodbye.” “wha-? what do you mean?” “you thought i was staying?? it was your decision to believe someone else before asking me and talking with me. so now im doing that to you. just in… different senses obviously.” he chuckled, before kissing your cheek “bye-bye pretty girl. love ya.” he said before leaving and closing the door to the bathroom.

great. back to strangers.

hiiii! thank you sooo much for all the follows n likes i literally love you guyssss. this is my first time writing smut so i hope it was good. any tips and help would be appreciated than you sooo much i love youuuu! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ DRUNKEN WHISPERS 𖤐. — sim jaeyun

(*´▽`*) Ꮺ sim jaeyun + fem! reader non-idol au college/university au friends to lovers ᛝ warning cursing drinking partying drunken confession one kiss scene open ending so interpret it as how you would . . !? & 1249 — m.list

note. i've been itching to write something related to drunk confessions so yeah. also this is my first jake fic, hopefully i didn't messed up his character here. i might make a part two for this if this blew up hehe. and merry xmas! 🎄tagging @senascoooop

Ring, ring. Ring, ring. 

“Hello?” You picked up the ringing phone without checking the screen. Your desk was a sight to behold; a stack of books placed dangerously close to the edge of your desk with sheets of papers covering the surface. In the middle was your laptop, the blaring screen nearly blinding you. 

“Hey uh, do you mind coming over to pick Jake up? He’s drunk,” Heeseung said, sounding embarrassed. You could make out the faint booming music from the other line. 

“Again? Heeseung, this is the fourth time it has happened this week,” you sighed, already rising to your feet, swiping your phone, wallet and car keys off the table as you stepped out of your room.

You heard a laugh. “We tried to stop him, (Name) but you know how it always turns out.” 

You merely rolled your eyes, having known Jake long enough to visualise how the scenario played out. As far as you were aware, Jake was a persistent pillar in your life. You had known each other since you were toddlers, due to both of you being neighbours and how your mothers were friends too. Everywhere you went, he was sure to follow you. It was an endearing sight to behold for the public, like a puppy following its owner. 

“Whatever, I’ll be there in thirty minutes. In the meantime, please stop him from drinking again,” you replied, hanging the call after Heeseung texted you the location of where they were. 

It didn’t take you long to arrive at your destination and you stepped out of your car after parking it, able to hear the loud bass boosted music that grew louder as you got closer. Thankfully, you didn’t have to enter the club as you easily spotted Jake and the others seated outside. It was like Jake had heightened hearing, for he perked up at the sound of your approaching footsteps. His face lit up as he rose to his feet while swaying side to side, resulting in both Heeseung and Jay having to steady him. 

But Jake didn’t care. He staggered his way towards you, throwing his entire body weight on you. You would have fallen to the ground if you didn’t catch yourself in the nick of time. You scrunch your nose at the revolting stench of alcohol lingering on his body and you could smell it from his mouth too, much to your disgust. 

“(Name)~, I’ve missed you so much,” his words were borderline slurring, barely comprehensible but you were still able to make out what he said. 

Thankfully, Heeseung and Jay pulled him away from you, eliciting a pathetic whine from Jake who struggles to free himself. You, on the other hand, ran a hand through your hair. “How many did he drink?” You asked. 

“Uh, like seven?” Heeseung replied, earning a smack to the arm from Jay, who shot him a glare.

“Seven? And none of you tried to stop him?” You asked, exasperated. 

“Hey, we tried our best but he refused to listen to us. He only listens to you,” Jay pointed out, a knowing glint in his eyes; a glint that made you look away, ignoring how your stomach tightened. 

“I’ll take him home now then, I’ll see you guys next week,” you sighed, bidding them farewell as you threw Jake’s right arm around your shoulder, having to grip onto him to prevent him from falling forward or backward. The others see you off before returning to the club, wanting to get more drinks before heading home. 

Needless to say, it was a struggle trying to complete the short walk to your car. You had to support the weight of a fully-grown man who is drunk, all the while maintaining your balance. With some difficulty, you managed to overcome it. However when you were trying to fish for your keys, Jake thought it was a good idea to bury his face in the crook of your neck. You groaned when his abyssal-like hair blocked off a good portion of your view, making a simple task harder than it should be. 

“Jake, what are you doing?” You asked, trying to push his head away but it was futile. 

He whined, still able to move his limbs despite his current state. You froze when Jake wrapped his arms around your waist. Physical contact is a common thing in your friendship but something about the way his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck caused goosebumps to form. You involuntarily shivered when he rubbed circles on your waist, through the fabric of your clothes. 

“Jake, seriously, stop this,” you said, your voice wavering at the end and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Noooo,” he whined, his hot breath grazing against your skin with every word he spoke. “I miss you so much.” 

“We literally meet every day, how can you miss me?” You sighed, finally pulling out your keys to unlock your car. You opened the backdoor, managing to get him in. 

Jake grabbed your wrist and before you could react, he tugged you down. You yelped, falling forward and thankfully, you didn’t hit your head against anything. You held yourself up in an awkward position, one knee digging into the car seat, one hand gripping onto the headrest of the driver’s seat while the other was pressed against the window in front of you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized just how close he was. 

You were so close that if one of you were to move, you would be kissing. You have always known Jake is attractive but it was another level to see his features up close. His eyes were windows to his soul. No matter how expressive he is or how he tries to hide his feelings, his eyes will never lie. And right now, you could detect nothing but pure love and adoration in them. It was enough to make you gulp nervously. 

“(Name), you’re so pretty. Wanna kiss you so bad,” he murmured, words no longer slurring and for a moment, you thought he had sobered up, only for him to giggle and the thought was washed down the drain. 

“Jake, enough. You’re not thinking straight,” you said, not wanting to ruin your many years of friendship. You didn’t want to let something as simple as your feelings for him ruin it. You tried to move away but his grip on your wrist tightened. 

“I’m telling the truth,” he whines, lips curling down in a pout. You were tempted to kiss him right there and then but you held yourself back. “Heeseung and the others know about how I’m madly in love with you. You’re always on my mind, no matter what I go. If only you know how crazy I am for you.” 

You were rendered speechless, taken aback by the utmost sincerity in his voice and the abrupt confession. Never in your life have you thought that your friend feels the same way. 

“Jake, I—!?” 

You weren’t given the chance to finish his sentence. Jake moved and with one smooth movement, he captured your lips in a kiss. You were too stunned to react and the kiss ended as fast as it started. He pulled away, looking into your eyes for a few seconds before passing out. All you could do was to openly gape at him, watching as he fell asleep, occupying the entire backrow of your car.  

What the fuck just happened? 

[tedsbogusjourney]

Kickstart My Heart

Ted "Theodore" Logan X fem!reader genre : one shot - fluff warnings : english isn't my first language. Enjoy !

The record store was quiet, with no customers this early evening. The music playing softly through the store speakers was Dangerous - Shark Island. You blinked, trying to shake off the usual fatigue that crept in at the end of your day. Your gaze landed on Ted’s goofy smile—the one that always gave you butterflies. You’d grown so attached to him over the years, his unshakable optimism like a beacon. His sunny personality had always lifted your spirits, no matter how tough things got.

You missed him more and more now that he, Bill, and you had graduated high school and ventured into your respective lives.

“How’s work going?” you asked softly, tilting your head slightly. His honey-brown eyes sparkled with excitement as he studied your face, his enthusiasm shining through.

“Totally awesome, dudette! College? Not really my vibe, y’know... I’d much rather be here. Way more excellent!”

He ran a hand through his messy dark hair, his trademark grin plastered on his face. You knew music was his life, even though his dad had never approved it. These days, Ted shares an apartment in San Dimas with Bill. Briefly, you wondered if he still had a strained relationship with his father. Of course, you didn’t dare ask. It was a sore subject, and you didn’t want to dredge up painful memories. You’d seen him defeated enough times in high school, back when his dad used to threaten to send him to the military.

“It’s cool that you’re here,” he added, shifting topics with his usual enthusiasm. “I’ve got a late shift tonight—like, really late. But hey, at least it gives me time to spin some killer records and check out non-heinous releases!”

You noticed his shoulders were a bit more muscular than they’d been in high school, and you wondered briefly if he worked out now. Physically, there had been small changes, but mentally? He was still the same Ted—the goofy, happy guy you’d always known. Sometimes, you wished you could be more like him. You, with your overthinking and constant worries, envied his carefree approach to life. Ted tackled problems with a lightness that disarmed you, while you often let your worries weigh you down. Being Ted seemed so much simpler. Maybe even freer.

“I’m glad you still enjoy the job. Are there many customers during the day?”

“Depends on the day,” he replied, setting a Scatterbrain - Here Comes Trouble vinyl on the counter and absentmindedly running his fingers over the cover. “But weekends? Totally triumphant—you wouldn’t believe it!”

He finally looked up at you, his honey-colored eyes gleaming with sincere curiosity. “What about you? Still with the bookshop, or did you find something even most excellent?”

You shook your head slightly, pulling yourself back to the moment as his sparkling gaze met yours. He twirled the record in his hands before gently placing it on the counter. You were deep down gushing about how adorable he was.

“Yeah, still working at that bookshop. But… I think what makes my day really great is coming here and seeing you sometimes. You make everything feel so much lighter, Ted.”

For a moment, Ted seemed surprised by your words, but then his grin widened even further, lighting up his entire face. “Whoa, for real? Thanks, dudette. You’re, like, totally righteous.”

He spun another vinyl, Motley Crüe’s -Kickstart My Heart song blasted through the speakers. He nodded toward you.

“Check this out. Isn’t it totally triumphant?”

You stepped closer, leaning in slightly to hear better, and your shoulders brushed. Your heart skipped a beat. But Ted, being Ted, didn’t seem to notice your nervousness. He turned to you and murmured like he was sharing a secret.

“This is, like, my all-time favorite song. It always makes me feel like everything’s gonna be okay.”

Of course, your crush on Ted wasn’t new. Elizabeth had beaten you to it back in high school, and the two had dated right in front of you. You’d done your best to hide the pain all these years. It was hard. Bill had told you a few months ago that they’d broken up. You weren’t sure what had happened between them…

You took a step closer to look at the vinyl he held, and your fingers brushed lightly against his. A shiver ran through you, but Ted, ever oblivious, just smiled wider, like everything was perfectly normal. Meanwhile, you felt… different, a little lost in that closeness.

Ted leaned forward to adjust the music volume, and suddenly, there was no space between your bodies. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the familiar apple scent of his shampoo on his dark strands, and your heart began to race.

When he straightened, his eyes met yours, a new glimmer in his gaze.

“Wanna see another vinyl? I’ve got something super excellent to show you.”

You couldn’t seem to find your voice, your breath hitching slightly. Was it the music, the closeness, or just Ted himself making your heart pound so hard? “Y-yeah, show me,” you stammered, feeling like an absolute idiot, your eyes locked on his.

Ted spun another vinyl, and Skid Row-Psycho Therapy song boomed through the speakers.

“So, what do you think, dudette? Isn’t it, like, totally excellent?” he asked, nodding along with the beat, his messy hair bouncing with the movement.

“Yeah, it’s… really good,” you replied, smiling, though you weren’t paying much attention to the music. You were too aware of Ted’s presence next to you.

He leaned on the counter beside you, and suddenly, as if struck by a brilliant idea, he jumped up. “Oh, wait! I’ve got something super awesome!”

You watched as he rummaged under the counter, his usual clumsiness sending objects clattering. Finally, he emerged with an old acoustic guitar, a little battered.

“See this? My secret weapon for when the store’s too quiet. Bill says I shouldn’t play it here, but hey, he’s not around, right?” he added with a conspiratorial grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you gonna play something now?”

Ted squinted, exaggerating a look of seriousness. “Is that a question, or, like, a challenge?”

“A bit of both,” you replied, crossing your arms with a teasing smile.

“Alright, brace yourself. I’m gonna play… uh…” He paused, glancing densely at the guitar. “I don’t know what yet. But don’t worry—it’s gonna be awesome!”

He strummed a few clumsy chords, but his beaming grin made the whole scene so endearing that you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. Between two off-key notes, he looked up at you.

“Okay, maybe it’s not exactly most excellent, but… it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“Definitely. I’d say you’ve got a unique style, Ted. Like very… Ted-esque.”

He paused mid-strum, tilting his head with a mock pout.

“Unique, huh? Is that your way of saying I’m bad?”

“No! It means you’re… you,” you said softly, your laughter fading as your gaze met his twinkling eyes.

He set the guitar down, the silence returning, broken only by the faint crackle of the speakers. This time, he didn’t step away.

“You know,” he said, his voice lower now, “we’ve known each other for, like, forever. But sometimes, I feel like there’s so much I don’t get…”

“Like what?” you asked after a silence, your breath catching slightly.

Ted shrugged, hesitating, and for once, his usual grin faltered. “Like… you. What you’re thinking...Sometimes you get this look… like, right now.”

“What kind of look?” you asked, swallowing hard.

“I don’t know babe,” he admitted, adorably awkward, his eyes searching yours. “A look that makes me wanna do… this.”

Did he just call you babe!?

He leaned in slightly but stopped, doubt flickering in his eyes. You could almost feel his breath, yet he didn’t move closer. “But I don’t wanna mess things up between us. You’re, like, super important to me…”

“It’s not weird,” you whispered, your voice warm as your hand brushed his. “It’s just… you.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the gap, brushing a soft, tentative kiss against his lips. The moment was gentle, hesitant, and wonderfully awkward.

Ted froze for a second as if trying to process what had just happened. Then he pulled back slightly, his cheeks red.

“Whoa,” he said, touching his lips briefly. “That was like… totally excellent.”

You chuckled softly, your heart still racing. He nodded enthusiastically, his messy hair adding to his boyish charm.

“… Does this mean we’re, like, the heroes of our own epic adventure now?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your sly smile barely hiding your own nervous excitement. “But in this adventure, you’d definitely be the bard playing questionable chords to distract the dragons.”

“Woah,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Okay, fair point dudette. But hey, with my legendary music, I’ll totally protect both of us!”

He looked at you for a moment and gently placed his hand over yours, his expression almost hesitant.

“Thanks for coming tonight. I know I’m not the coolest or most excellent dude, but… you make everything so much better.”

“You don’t have to be impressive, Ted. You’re already you, and that’s more than enough,” you replied softly, your tone reassuring.

He gazed at you, his grin softening into something more tender. Then, as if deciding something important, he jumped up.

“Alright, it’s official! Next time, we’re going on a real epic adventure! With dragons. And magical records. But first, we’re finishing tonight with another non-heinous song.”

As he searched for the next track, you leaned back against the counter, your heart feeling lighter, basking in the warmth of the moment you had just shared, your cheeks flushed with a soft pink hue.

[ryuryuryuyurboat]

toxic till the end

synopsis: what happens when things can’t work anymore?

genre: angst, no comfort

characters: alhaitham x gn! reader

warnings: suggests a toxic relationship, alhaitham might be ooc

a/n: my favourite animal is me during a breakup fr || likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

©2024 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

masterlist

how long had it been since you last felt at peace with your lover? how long had it been since you hadn’t had to walk on eggshells around him? how long had it been since you went to bed happy?

answer: too long ago to remember.

sure, alhaitham had been nothing but the sweetest with you, so patient when you were in one of your moods, so understanding when you were occasionally too busy with work to see him. he’d been vulnerable with you, and let you do the same with him in turn, under multiple starry nights. he’d even shown you his softest side– kaveh often joked that he should hold you hostage next time he forgot the house keys and needed alhaitham to open the door for him. but perhaps you should’ve been just a little more observant.

why did alhaitham, of all people, always end up in a foul mood when he saw you laughing with your other male friends? because he was jealous. why did he get jealous even though he knew they were just your friends? … i don’t know. it didn’t matter, then, because you found it kinda endearing how he was obsessed with you and you could tirelessly assure him that he was the only one for you.

and then it got worse.

“why won’t you let me hang out with my friends?”

“because there’ll be guys.” your lover replied, not missing a beat, and not looking up from that stupid book he’d been reading for days on end.

“what’s that got to do with–” you felt your blood pressure rise. “are you implying you can’t trust me with other guys?”

out of everything you’d said that afternoon, that was the one that got him to put his book aside.

“what? no, that’s not what i–”

“then what do you mean?” you raised your voice, “because ever since the start of this relationship, all you say every time i so much as mention one single guy friend is how you get jealous and how much you don’t like when i talk about them! you ever hear me do that when you talk about your friends?”

“woah, babe, will you relax for a second? can’t we talk this out?”

you stopped dead. “relax?” you repeated in disbelief. upon seeing his face — completely serious — you sighed and reached for the door. “...i can’t do this right now. i need space.”

“wait– where’re you going?”

“out.” you didn’t see, didn’t hear him reach for you, mouthing the words “don’t leave.”

you had never been more grateful to have candace as a friend, for she had welcomed you into aaru village with open arms and told you to stay for as many nights as you needed to.

why did you always give in to alhaitham’s needs, even if it burnt you out? because i loved him. why hadn’t he done the same, and instead constantly rejected you when you voiced your needs, saying he’d already been trying his best? … i don’t know. yet he’d turned around and made you feel like the asshole for asking him to meet your needs.

“sometimes, i feel like you don’t even care about me. do you really love me?”

“...what?”

he sighs. “it feels like i’ve given up so much for you, but you never did for me.”

“?????”

“you… don’t agree?” he looked at your dumbfounded face, at your mouth opening and closing as you looked for words to defend yourself without making the conversation yet another argument.

“i…” you inhaled deeply. “what made you think that?” you attempted a small smile to show you were calm — so he wouldn’t tell you to relax and be patient with him, like he had countless times before — but it felt so wrong.

i gave up my dream to move to fontaine for you, you want to scream. all because you’d rather stay in sumeru but couldn’t bear the thought of being far away from me.

alhaitham had always been excellent at chess. maybe a bit too good, now that you thought about it. maybe that’s why his proficiency at the game translated into his actions around you.

“i’ve been thinking about it, and i think i want a break.”

“you want a breakup?”

“no. just– just a break from this.” you gestured lamely, “from this relationship. it’s stressing me out.”

he stared, incredulous. “how am i stressing you out?”

“not you, i–”

“tell me what’s wrong, babe.” he interrupted, reaching out to clasp your hands with his. “i’ll do better, we can work on it together, right?”

“but you always say that.”

“i mean it every time, i really do.” he sounded so desperate, so pleading, till part of you wanted to just take back everything you’d just said.

you inhaled. “i just think the break would be good for us, you know? like, i’ve been stressed out because you’ve been upset i haven’t been fulfilling your needs and i think i could use the break to work on myself so you don’t feel neglected, y’know?”

“no.” he stared at you like you just told him cyno was in love with kaveh. “you know you’re going to make things worse if we go on break.”

“oh.”

later that night, as you tiptoed out of the house with your bags, you couldn’t help but wonder if alhaitham was the only one who brought the relationship you had to its bitter end.

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[crushmeeren]

ᝰ SASUKE’S NSFW ALPHABET .ᐟ

cw ; i have added a few visuals to this, inspired by @osamucide and this post of visuals! you have to be logged into your twitter account for them to work. it’s porn, so THIS IS YOUR WARNING.

p.s. ; { i know Sasuke only has one arm now, but these visuals involve guys that have two. please, take it with a grain of salt and picture it the best you can. (✿˶˘ ³˘) }

master list

ᝰ A ‣ ‣ AFTERCARE { ༝༝ what’s sasuke like after sex? ༝༝ }

The man is a teddy bear these days. So when your sweaty skin sticks to Sasuke’s like glue, chest heaving to catch your breath, he keeps his cock sealed in your pussy. He’s careful with his movements, tender, and he’ll shift you ‘round until you’re on your sides, nose to nose.

Warm fingers will skate down your waist, over your thigh, and grasp the sensitive area behind your knee, tugging to hook it over his hip. That same arm will lock around your waist, pull you close, and what’s left of his other one will tuck under your neck.

“Feeling good baby?” He murmurs, pressing his hips forward just to tease. He’s still hard, and he uses that to his advantage. Your pussy squeezes tight and he moans, lashes fluttering when you chuckle. He leans into your touch when your fingers run through his hair, brushing it off his forehead.

Sasuke snuggles in close after that, giving you both time to stay present in the afterglow before you clean up.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ B ‣ ‣ BODY PART { ༝༝ sasuke’s favorite ༝༝ }

Sasuke strikes me as the type of man who doesn’t have a preference. He loves every part of you, because at the end of the day, they’re all connected to the person he loves. He simply can’t get enough of you.

When your tits bounce, when your ass jiggles, the fact that your lips and fingers fit like a glove around his cock, Sasuke loses his mind. He stares at your pretty face at all times of the day, limbs like live wires each time he fucks you so well your nails leave angry pink scratches down his chest.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ C ‣ ‣ CUM { ༝༝ where sasuke likes to cum ༝༝ }

The heat of your pussy seems to spread throughout Sasuke’s entire body. It starts in his cock, slithers up his belly, up his throat, and pools in his cheeks. There’s cotton in his ears when you call out to him, smacking his chest to get his attention.

“Sasuke!” Your voice pitches higher, back arching without permission. His heavy thrusting continues to inch you up the mattress. “Pull out Sasuke, you — fuck, you gotta pull out!”

Sasuke’s jaw clenches, cock starting to twitch in warning. “You sure baby? I don’t think your pussy wants to let me go. So greedy.” His hand clutches your thigh tighter as struggles to keep his eyes open.

You level him with the best glare you can. Sasuke pouts, but he does pull out, and he cums in glossy threads all over your tits instead. Even if he’d rather fill your pussy to the brim.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ E ‣ ‣ EXPERIENCE { ༝༝ how much does sasuke have? ༝༝ }

Sasuke’s gotten his dick sucked, he’s eaten pussy, he’s just never stepped over the last threshold. Not by the time you met him.

He’s not a shy, blushing virgin, either. He never gave a single fuck about it before, and he doesn’t give a single fuck even after you’ve started a relationship. He never stops being a little shit though, taunting you with things like “Is that right? My pretty girl wants to take my virginity? Good, I’ve wanted to get my dick inside your tight pussy since I met you.”

Sauske is nothing if not a fast learner. Once he gets over the shock of pleasure those first few times, he figures out how to play your body like a fiddle.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ F ‣ ‣ FAVORITE POSITION { ༝༝ sasuke’s favorite ༝༝ }

Bouncing up and down on Sasuke’s cock destroys him.

Watching him dig the base of his skull into the mattress, neck taught and straining as his spine pulls up into an arch, you feel powerful. His expression always shatters with pleasure when you brace your palms on his pecs and sit down with enough force to leave an ache in his pelvis.

He tries to stay quiet, but often he can’t. He lets out moan after moan, these low, rasping noises that buzz in your brain.

But his favorite part, the one that tightens his balls and coils heat behind his navel, is when your thighs give out. Allowing him to draw up his knees, plant his feet, and thrust up into your pussy until your wailing, squirting all over his cock.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ‣ ‣ visual here .ᐟ

ᝰ H ‣ ‣ HAIR { ༝༝ does sasuke shave or care? ༝༝ }

Sasuke doesn’t have much body hair to begin with. There’s a sparse trail of soft, dark hair from his belly button to his pelvis, ending with a handful of curls at the base of his cock. He’s never felt the urge to shave.

The only situation in which he’d be bothered by your hair is if it’s blocking his access to your pussy.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ I ‣ ‣ INTIMACY { ༝༝ is sasuke romantic? ༝༝ }

Sasuke is a secret romantic. The icy exterior he works so hard to maintain dissolves when you’re alone, the soft secret smile he hides lighting up his face. The first time you had sex you’d followed him home after dinner, heart full, and you’d stumbled in shock when you were met with a trail of flower petals leading to his room.

The lights were dimmed already, and Sasuke took you by the hand to guide you along. You noticed a couple candles scattered in his room, waiting to be lit. When you turned to peek at Sasuke he met your gaze, cheeks flushed pink.

You couldn’t help but tease him with “Were you so certain you’d get laid tonight?” Taking his hand and squeezing. Sasuke glared half heartedly, returning the affectionate gesture.

Sasuke didn’t bother responding, he just held you close and let you ride him until he had to beg for a break.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ‣ ‣ visual here .ᐟ

ᝰ J ‣ ‣ JERKING OFF { ༝༝ does sasuke jerk off? ༝༝ }

Sasuke’s opinion on jerking off is more or less “meh”. If the urge is strong enough, and he’s got the time, once in awhile he’ll indulge.

To ask Sasuke directly, he’d much rather it be your hand stroking his cock. He’ll sit down by you in bed, lean his head on your shoulder, and ask in a low tone if you’d be willing to lend him a helping hand. After all, he can’t squeeze and palm his balls if his singular hand is occupied.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ‣ ‣ visual here .ᐟ

ᝰ K ‣ ‣ KINK { ༝༝ sasuke’s kinks ༝༝ }

Breeding kink who?

In all seriousness though, this is one of, if not the only, kink that he has. It’s not so much the reality of you becoming pregnant as it is the idea of it. The risk that accompanies cumming in your pussy until it squeezes out the sides while Sasuke very much continues to push it back in.

When the two of you do agree to start trying for a baby, the first time you have sex after that conversation Sasuke hadn’t been aware you were ovulating. You blurted it out in the middle of having a knee pressed to your chest.

Sasuke paused, hips pressed firm to your ass, and said “Aw, are we gonna make a baby tonight? How sweet.”

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ‣ ‣ visual here .ᐟ

ᝰ L ‣ ‣ LOCATION { ༝༝ where sasuke likes to fuck ༝༝ }

The bed, no doubt. He’s also fond of the couch. Any place that’s comfortable and doesn’t raise the difficulty level of functioning with one arm.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ O ‣ ‣ ORAL { ༝༝ sasuke’s thoughts on oral ༝༝ }

Sitting that sweet pussy on his tongue is what he prefers. It’s easier for him to cup the swell of your ass, to help guide your clit across his tongue, and he swats you every now then to hear your breath hitch. When you thread your fingers through his hair and hold tight, Sasuke’s scalp tingles. It shoots straight to his cock.

Getting his dick sucked is a different matter. He admits that he does enjoy admiring your face while you work him over with your tongue. Placing kisses along his shaft, taking him deep until you choke, but he loves your pussy so much more.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ Q ‣ ‣ QUICKIES { ༝༝ sasuke and quickies ༝༝ }

Sasuke enjoys a quickie every once and awhile. If you want him to fuck you fast and hard before you leave, he’s down. He’ll bend you over the kitchen counter, let you ride him on the couch, whatever you want he’s willing to give.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ‣ ‣ visual one two .ᐟ

ᝰ S ‣ ‣ STAMINA { ༝༝ what’s sasuke’s stamina like? ༝༝ }

Not everyone has endless stamina during sex, and that’s okay. Sasuke happens to be one of those people. He’s average.

He does last long enough to leave you breathless and satisfied, and on occasion, if you both put in the effort, he can get it up for multiple rounds. You definitely take advantage of those nights.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ T ‣ ‣ TEASE { ༝༝ does sasuke like to tease you? ༝༝ }

The part of Sasuke that convinces him to act like a little shit never changes. He loves you, and he’s squishy like a marshmallow on the inside for you, so of course he teases.

It’s all playful, never pushing too far. The nights when you straddle Sasuke’s thighs, take his cock in hand and stroke him until he’s fully hard for a second round, he’ll smooth his hand up and down your side, smirking when he coos “Oh baby, your pussy needs my cock again, doesn’t she? I’ll give it to you, don’t whine.” He’ll pinch your ass, clutch the back of your thigh, and help you bounce to your hearts desire.

[nothorses]

Hi so I’m a nonbinary lesbian and have been out for well over 6 years. My gender expression has changed a lot over the years and now I’m just. A bit lost. I want to experiment more with masculinity again but I’ve kind of forgotten how to? I’m in a bit of a weird spot where most people around me aren’t trans (except for my roommates) but are of the (very good!) idea that “clothes and attributes aren’t gendered” and dress sort of unisex in as cheap second hand clothes as possible. Some guys have long hair or wear makeup to parties and some women don’t shave etc. But I still feel like most people view me as a woman or woman-lite because even though they’re well meaning and progressive, they’re not really well-educated about transness. And I’m in a long term lesbian relationship and have a lot of hobbies that are more traditionally feminine. My pronouns are they/she but most people use she/her exclusively. I’m starting to feel more and more dysphoric about this after a few years of no dysphoria, but I don’t know how to change things. So yeah do you have any tips on doing masculinity? Or experimenting more with combining gender expressions? I wish I could start t but the trans healthcare in my country is terrible.

ngl a lot of that is so familiar to me- especially the pronouns! It's been a long time since I started to lean more into masculinity from the kind of "I'm not a yucky man lol that would be unfeminist" purgatory I was trapped in pre-transition but post-realizing-i-was-trans-in-some-way (which isn't to imply that's where you're at, that was just my personal journey) but I definitely feel like I resonate with a lot of what you're describing from, like, that specific period in my life.

I think drawing harder lines around how I wanted people to refer to me helped a lot with this, early on. I know a ton of people who have pronouns they use with trans friends that are different from the pronouns they let cis people use; she/they for the people they know will make the effort to use both, but they/them or she/her exclusively for the people they know are unlikely to use those pronouns if they have an alternative. This works with other language as well- but that's all to your personal comfort level!

Outside of that, I think step 1 is really just thinking about what masculinity means to you, and what kinds of masculinity you're interested in or intrigued by. Don't worry too much about figuring out exactly what you want right away- just experiment with whatever seems like it might be fun or comfortable. Think clothes, hair, mannerisms, roles, hobbies and interests; anything you might have denied or been denied because of gendered expectations. There's no one singular way to Do Masculinity, and the goal isn't to start out with a single perfect, consistent way of presenting yourself to the world. You're just playing with things you haven't had permission to play with before!

I also have a lot of "feminine interests", and a big thing for me has been finding masculine role models within those things. In my area it's mostly women who are into horses, and I was the only man on the horseback riding team at my school when I transitioned; but cowboys are totally a thing, and I started leaning into that role pretty early on! We also ended up getting another guy on the team, I think partially because he saw there was at least one other & he wouldn't be the only man there, which was cool (he latched onto me hard, too. it was very funny to me when I mentioned being trans & he apparently had very much not realized that before. I got to watch his worldview shift in real time, lmao)

That one was probably the easiest, though. I've also looked to really positive, loving male teachers in my work in education, and that's been awesome! Sewing & embroidery have been the hardest by far, but I've definitely found plenty of men in both over time. Finding embroidery patterns to try out from gay men depicting masculine-presenting bodies has been especially fun & validating.

I know this isn't the most specific advice, and I'm not sure if you were looking for like, a list of clothes to buy? But honestly this has just been my own journey. I wear what's comfortable and I haven't really changed my interests or hobbies; exploring masculinity has really just meant giving myself permission to engage in things I haven't before, wearing things I feel good in, and looking to others who've given themselves that permission as well for inspiration. I had to be more intentional about considering the masculine-to-me options early on than I do now, but like, it should all be about you and what you're interested in. There are infinite types of guy! I think it's just a matter of figuring out which ones you resonate with and why, and building your own type of guy out of that.

[milkywaybesties]

i wrote. many words. help. 1299. uhhhh

here you go! take some lhsau gay people! (more below the cut)

Jimmy was staring.

He couldn’t help it. Him and Scott were eating lunch, sitting where they normally did in the grass outside the school. Normally, no one else was around, but today some of the other kids were messing about outside. Skizz, BigB. And Tango.

The three were playing some game with sticks on the floor while they ate their lunches. Or at least that was Jimmy’s theory. He couldn’t see very well from where he was. Or maybe he could, if he had actually been paying attention. Instead, he was mesmerized by something else.

Tango was laughing.

And maybe, it wasn’t that normal that Jimmy was distracted so easily by one of his friends laughing. But Tango’s laugh just made him happy. The giant, unapologetic grin that came with it. The mischievous look on his face as he took the pile of sticks Skizz had accumulated. 

So maybe Jimmy was staring. Maybe it might’ve seemed weird. But Tango was never just some friend anyway. They were his rancher! One of his best friends. And sure, maybe when the two were squished together on the couch at the Halloween party, and he could feel just how warm Tango was, Jimmy was panicking a little bit, but that didn’t mean—

“Hello? Earth to my wonderful boyfriend?” A hand waived in front of his face. 

Jimmy turned to look at his partner. “Huh?”

Scott let out a light laugh and asked, “You haven’t been listening to a single word I’ve said, have you?”

“No, no, I was listening! You were saying, uhm… ah.”

“Uh huh,” Scott responded knowingly, “So, you and Tango, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Jimmy tried to play it off. How was he supposed to tell his boyfriend that he might’ve been crushing on another man? Really, Jimmy wasn’t being a good partner. Being mesmerized by someone else’s laugh. Sure, Tango was great, but Jimmy loved Scott too much to be acting like this. Like a cheater.

“You should ask him out. He’s cute. And a nice guy,” Scott suggested.

Jimmy was flabbergasted. Scott seemed genuine. But what sane person would tell their partner to ask another person out? He must have been joking. Or teasing.

But Scott never did seem sane anyway.

“Yeah, yeah…” Jimmy laughed, playing it off again, treating it as the joke it surely must have been.

“If you don’t ask him out I will,” Scott said deadpan, before seeing the confused look on his boyfriend’s face and continuing, “I’m serious. You ask him out or I will. I’ll get the bragging rights.”

“Wh- But, we’re already dating. What do you mean ‘ask Tango out?’”

“Well. You like Tango, clearly. I’m pretty confident he likes you back. So you should ask him out.”

Jimmy thought he understood now. This must be some sort of test. If he agrees, Scott breaks up with him.

Scott, clearly sensing his discomfort, asked a question with a smile on his face.

“Jimmy, do you know what polyamory is?”

“I think I’ve heard the word,” Jimmy answered, “But I’m not sure what it means. I think Joel said something about polyamory at one point?”

“Joel is definitely polyamorous,” Scott confirmed, “The man has some sort of harem, I swear.”

“What… what is polyamory?”

Scott’s smile widened. “Someone who is polyamorous is basically someone who wants to date multiple people at the same time,” he explained, “I’m polyamorous. I’ve had crushes while in relationships, and while I’ve never ended up dating two people simultaneously, I have considered it. And it seems like you might be, too.”

“Oh,” Jimmy responded, one sound worth a million thoughts and questions, “So… I’m allowed to like both you and Tango?”

“Definitely,” Scott reassured, “Actually, it might simplify things for the two of us a little bit. I love you, Jimmy, and I like Tango, too.”

“Really?” Jimmy said, shocked.

“Mhm,” his partner nodded, “He’s actually really cute.”

Jimmy sighed, “Right?! I swear, he laughs and I just… deflate.”

“Seriously,” Scott laughed.

“So,” Jimmy rerailed the conversation, “I might be… polyamorous?”

“Yes,” Scott said, “And if you want to date other people at the same time as me, I’m fine with it. As long as there is some discussion between us first.”

“Of course,” Jimmy agreed, “And… you can date other people too. That sounds good to me.”

The two were giggling at the awkward tone of Jimmy’s words when they heard an approaching voice.

“Hey guys!” Tango said with cheer, carrying his pile of sticks in his arms, “What are you two lovebirds talkificating about?”

“Oh, I was just explaining the concept of polyamory to Jimmy,” Scott said, with no shame.

“Scott! That was a private conversation!”

“Mhm,” he hummed in faux sympathy. “Anyway, Tango, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, we were gambling with sticks,” they said excitedly, “I won! If you can’t tell.”

“Oh, good job!” Scott began to subtly elbow Jimmy in the side, “What does winning sticks get you anyway?”

“Why, bragging rights of course! Also Skizz is driving me home for a month now. Of course, he would’ve done that anyway, but it’s funnier to say that it’s for the bet.”

“It always is,” Scott agreed, “But I would’ve gambled for something better. Maybe his firstborn.”

“Y- Yeah,” Tango laughed. “Problem is I’m basically Impulse and Skizz’s firstborn, so that would be a bit problematic.”

“Fair point,” they agreed, before turning the conversation in a completely different direction. “Jimmy has a question to ask you.”

“I do?!” Jimmy yelped. Scott looked at him expectantly. “Uhm- right, yeah! Tango, did you ever figure out what problems the math homework was supposed to be?”

“Oh yeah, I think it was—” Tango started to respond, before Scott cut him off.

“That was not the question I meant actually,” they corrected.

“Well, I’ve got no idea what question you do mean, then,” Jimmy lied. He was not asking Tango out. No way.

“Well, I’ll ask it then,” Scott said. “Tango, do you want to go out with me sometime?”

“Scott!” Jimmy shouted, panicked.

“Wh- huh?” Tango stammered, “Aren’t- aren’t you two- datificating? What do you mean? Me going out with you?”

“We are,” Scott said, “But we want to date you, too. Right, Jimmy?”

Jimmy realized they were too far into this to back out without making it worse. “Yeah, we would,” he admitted nervously, “You’re— you’re a really cool guy, Tango, and I didn’t know polyamory was a thing until like five minutes ago, but now that I know I can like you without feeling bad about it because of my relationship with Scott, I think— yeah.”

Tango seemed shocked and flustered.

“And I think you’re cute, too,” Scott flirted shamelessly, “I may not be as close with you as Jimmy is, but I can appreciate a kind and handsome person when I see one.”

Tango was blushing bright red now. Jimmy could almost feel the heat coming off of him. “You guys, you two— datificaters— want me to date you too?” After receiving two very eager nods, he continued, “I- I’d like that I think. I’ve liked you two for a while now, but I didn’t know if either of you was polyamorous, or if you liked me like that anyway, but if you are, and if you do… I think we could. Do something sometime.”

“Yeah!” Jimmy said excitedly, “We could… uhm. I’m not that great at date ideas.”

“We can figure something out,” Scott said, the bell ringing, signifying the end of lunch, “But for now, can we agree that the three of us can go out together sometime?”

A resounding and excited “Yes” came from his two companions, with wide smiles on their faces, before the three headed their separate ways to class, fantasizing about the date to come.

[bayon-ett]

@keferon Hey I’ve been reading your TexAid and Mecha au and all of the short stories people have been adding. I love it!

@spector-author Ive been reading your chapters too! And I wanted to add a few of my own, you inspired me haha.

So my idea is…Everyone here knows of Eddie and Venom right? I was wondering, what if there was an instance where FirstAid figured out how to ‘download’ Vortex to save both of them? I’m also going for a Mark Spector/Stephen Spector vibe. Both those character dynamics were my inspo for this.

I Listened to TOOL while writing this. I just feel like Vortex is that kinda guy. Also the title of the song is fitting. I linked it if anybody wants to listen while they read :D

Story Under the Cut ⬇️

FirstAid woke blearily. And he was, the world was… sideways? He tried to focus on, anything. The cockpit was dark save for the flashing red light every few seconds.

It was quiet. An alarm should be going off with the lights. He should hear the sparking internals of the console.

Concussion. The vertigo, hearing loss, and splitting headache being anything to go by.

Green letters scrolled across the monitor. FirstAid tried to focus his eyes, his vision swimming.

YOU NEED TO RUN!

YOU NEED TO RUN!

YOU NEED TO RUN!

FirstAid blinked.

I CANT-

CANT CONTROL ANYTHING

GET OUT

THEY’RE COMING

FirstAid fumbled around for his seatbelt until he finally found the release button. He slid out of the chair and hit the side of the cockpit with a groan. He struggled to stand up. A sudden wave of nausea made him abandon the idea, gritting his teeth against the pain behind his eyes. The dull red light above causing a stab of pain in his head whenever he opened them.

“Whats iss goingonn-“ He slurred out, trying to remain upright.

DOESN’T MATTER. YOU NEED TO GO.

FirstAid chuckled weakly, slowly dissolving into somewhat manic laughter. Laughter that turned into a groaning and coughing fit.

“Vortex, I’m not m-making it fivestepsss.”

There was silence.

FirstAid tried to move towards the console. Every time he turned his back a certain way it would send pain shooting from his hip to his shoulders.

He drug himself along the console counter, trying to look at the cameras, the pop up display, anything to give him an idea of what was wrong.

FIRSTAID YOU NEED TO LEAVE

WHEN THEY GET HERE THEY’ll BE ABLE TO SMELL YOU

THEY’LL TEAR ME-THIS-THE COCKPIT APART TO GET TO YOU

“Worried about me are you?” FirstAid swiped his hand accross the control screen weakly, smearing blood across it. Where was he bleeding from?

From what FirstAid’s spotty vision could make out it looked like multiple hydraulic lines had been disconnected. The connection between the main frame and the rest of the relays to Vortex- The mecha’s body were not transmitting. A bright ‘SIGNAL LOST’ on the top of the screen.

“Shit shit shit-“

FIRSTAID I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE I WILL SEND YOU TO JESUS MYSELF

“What about you?” FirstAid asked, more of a muttering to himself. Vortex could read his thoughts so it’s not like he needed to really say anything out loud.

ITS BEEN FUN DOLL BUT OUR TIME TOGETHER HAS COME TO AN END

NOW GO

BEFORE I END YOU IN A LESS PAINFUL WAY THAN THEY WILL

The main frame. The main frame was disconnected from the body. So Vortex was stuck in the main frame. If this were to translate to a human body, it would be equatable to a spinal injury at the neck.

FirstAid scrambled to grab the pilots helmet, putting it on gingerly.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?

“Something stupid.”

FirstAid swiped through the control consul quickly, synching his consciousness with the mecha, Vortex’s anger and more surprisingly, anxiety, filled his head.

WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING-

“GIVE ME A MINUTE TO THINK.” FirstAid ground out, “Please.”

FirstAid had never actually fully synched with Vortex. The mecha. Not the way pilots usually did anyway. Vortex controlled it on his own, FirstAid was only along for the ride most of the time. Vortex was in his head regardless.

After fully synching he heard Vortex in his mind clear as a bell, clearer as he’d ever heard him, shouting at him.

His finger hovered over the ‘DISCONNECT FROM MECHA, REURN FULL SYNC TO PILOT’ option on the screen.

FIRSTAID YOU FUCKER I SWEAR-

FirstAid slammed on the button, an electric shock like sensation going through him before everything went dark.

…

FirstAid woke up in the middle of the desert, puking his guts up onto the cold dry dirt. Lovely.

After dry heaving for what felt like forever he sat back on his heels, catching his breath.

He stood slowly, every twist or bend past a certain point making his back smart. He stood stiffly, slowly moving around to try and get a feel of his range of motion. Which was not very much at all.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings. After a few moments of spinning in circles he could say confidently that he had absolutely no clue where he was. No sign of beasts anywhere though. Small mercy that. The mecha, Vortex, was also nowhere to be seen. He sighed, picked a direction, and started walking.

It felt like First Aid simply blinked, and he was… on top of the mecha, elbow deep in the internals of the machine. He had enough time to turn away before retching again, his vision going spotty. He held his head gingerly, his hands smearing grease on his face and in his hair.

He blinked again, and he was sitting in the mecha, strapped in. His hands were on the controls! He abruptly let go of them, the machine stopping in its tracks as he did so. That never happened.

Did Vortex… did he die? For real this time? Did FirstAid accidentally delete his consciousness from the mecha or something? Did he-

He blinked again and was climbing out of the mecha onto the scaffolding. At the base. He was back at base. He almost tripped and fell onto the platform before catching himself.

He blinked again and Ratchet was standing in front of him looking, kind of freaked out. Ratchet never looked freaked out.

“Ratchet?” FirstAid questioned.

Ratchet blinked at him. FirstAid just noticed he was holding onto a wrench. Standing in the corner. FirstAid was crowding him into a corner.

“Who am I talking to right now?” Ratchet asked, searching FirstAid’s eyes.

FirstAid made a face. “Ratchet its me…”

The room spun, and the world went dark again.

…

Thats all I got for now. I’m going to keep adding to this cuz Keferon’s idea is so good! I want to add Ratchet and Vortex’s POV to this little snippet so… that will come soon.

I love everyone’s little snippets/chapters they’re adding to this au and I think its so cool :) This is not proofread so please point out any mistakes in the comments.

[none-tadashi-left-hiro]

Is my toxic trait psychoanalyzing other people and thinking I’m the exception because I’m actually soooo observant and aware of the signs

[sunmisbf]

i miss woodz

[crossbackpoke-check]

Sat politely ankles crossed hands folded please say you have more thoughts about the DC deweys. Lazarus pit cold-eyed stare pristine and bloodthirsty anyway I would love to hear any further thoughts if you have the time + energy + motivation

how i imagine you waiting for me to re-read the resurrection of ra’s al-ghul and hush vol. 1+2:

ALRIGHT. in no particular order, thoughts about the dc deweys

connor fits very well into the mold of a talia al-ghul for me; chip on his shoulder, femme fatale, deadly and precise. he’s not the loudest but he’s got a dry wit that’ll cut you!

“why is connor an al-ghul at all and not batman” well first of all he’s already got the water connection, i’m gonna go dip him into the lake a couple hours north of the pas to make him incredibly long-lived, rejuvenated and beautiful

second of all i want him to be a questionable villain/antihero because he looks evil in those pictures but like beautiful evil. you see him at a multi-million dollar soirée and he’s bored of being there wearing his “heritage” beads and jewels he originally had from a thousand years ago. he and his assassins are only here to murder the head of state who’s planning to lay a pipeline through ancestral grounds

rip brandon duhaime i simply cannot imagine you as any kind of batman. lacks the gravitas, too much of a yapper, loves his wife too much. i curse thee to be green arrow if you’re in this narrative at all

assuming connor stays with toronto, would LOVE to think about toronto as one of the sites of the lazarus pit for many reasons

(a brief aside here to say that for me personally this is interesting if connor goes to winnipeg because i think they suit him better, he’s a manitoba boy, but re: the chip on his shoulder, he’s NOT a manitoba boy. he’s from the pas and very proud of it)

a) the amount of ‘toronto is the center of the universe’ hockey creation myths i can play with & birth/rebirth/reincarnation. if you WANT to feel unhinged trying to blend hockey and comics is an ice rink not just a pool of water?

b) mr. cathal kelly i love your works!!! toronto eats its young!!! thinking about this very literally in the sense of the resurrection arc where players come to toronto and are sacrificed, give up their body, their skill, in service of the demon’s head, and lose themselves.

c) we see echos of the same narratives and styles over and over again—if i can hop over to the flyers for a second, there is of course the curse of the *8s (18 richards, 28 claude, 48 danny b, 68 nolan, 88 lindros) but ALSO the danny brière -> tk -> morgan frost celly chain. every generation a resurrection, emerging clean and new from the pit

can you just briefly hold my hand and imagine wayne gretzky as an evil ra’s al-ghul wanting to possess a new body. gretzky i’m sorry to malign you and i know you never played in toronto but you are the best player in my head to fit the idea, i’m open to other suggestions

coming BACK to green arrow dewey (i did not re-watch arrow or re-read those comics sorry) connor could also be black canary, who takes a brief dip into the lazarus pit (toronto) before getting married to oliver. i do like that narrative but because we were talking about pristine and cold-blooded i figured connor dewar head of the league of assassins was more what you were after

now that i’ve gotten through world building… choose your own adventure narratives?

hockey-ish au: connor chosen as a host for the Next One. i think the lineage of the great one -> next one -> next next one -> next one up of gretzky -> crosby -> mcdavid -> bedard is taken, BUT i can imagine that the league of old boys all have the same intentions. connor gets sent to toronto unknowingly being prepped to get body-snatched by ???? and brandon duhaime of course accidentally stumbles on the plot and they have to fight to stop it

connor assassinating people :) snapshot of the head of the league of assassins delegating which major world events they’re going to change today. would love his shark face from the gifset to have blood spattered across it, ideally.

version 1 as head of the league of assassins: brandon is one of his assassins, big strong bodyguard type. devoted to him, would lay down his life, perfectly designed for connor (lady shiva/cassandra cain-ish). connor orders for something to be done and brandon does it there for him then gently wipes the blood off his face and apologizes for being careless and getting him messy.

version 2 as head of the league of assassins: an actual plot where connor aims to assassinate SOMEONE but brandon gets in the way. they meet at odds as their respective roles (hero, leader of a crime syndicate) but are magnetically drawn together as their alter egos. eventually brandon puts together the pieces of the Big Evil and manages to (legally!-ish as much as vigilante-ism can be legal) take it down and the ending panels show a tentative friendship and recognition of potential shared goals

also, jaromir jágr is immortal. don’t know if this is relevant OR related but he is. personal hot spring lazarus pit?

um. thanks for coming to my 1.5k ted talk (including tags). what a way to moritz seider lore drop that i DID grow up a comic book nerd, lmao. thank you so much for enabling me <3 i'll be here all week thinking about which teams would get what rings in a blackest night au

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”