#he approves of the mischief

[dekariosclan]

There are a lot of great “Gale Approves” moments in the game, but I think my favorite might be one of the earliest (or possibly the very first?) one you can get.

It happens right after you ask him about himself and he gives you his “cat, wine, library” dialogue, ending with “didn’t that paint enough of a picture?”

If you press further by trying to peer into his mind via the tadpole and you succeed, you’ll only get a glimpse before he angrily shuts you out, and you’ll earn his disapproval:

He’s pissed, and rightly so.

However! In the next dialogue, if you tell him curiosity made you do it, he not only immediately forgives you, he ALSO gives you approval for it (thereby canceling out his prior disapproval):

I love this interaction for two reasons:

First, because it instantly tells you everything you need to know about Gale—he’s reserved until he gets to know you, he’s curious with a hint of mischief, and he’s very sweet and forgiving.

And second, because the whole interaction can be summed up as:

Gale: How dare you?!

Tav: Sorry, I’m a total nebshit.

Gale: OH! 😃👍 same

[ailithnight]

Bart brings a shovel, forgetting that this is the King of Ghosts. Who is naturally, himself, a ghost. A dead guy. Who might have different feelings about the thought of a grave.

SEDUCION OF PHANTOM

The Young Justice team thought of no other way to Summon the King of Ghosts against this enemy. With All the adults gone, Zatanna thought only this idea could work.

It would have been a good way, and Wonder Girl said she was willing to work as a sacrifice for it. They didn't summon the King but his Knight, Fright Knight, who then took Cassie with him after he broke the spell with his sword.

Robin tried to explain to the Batman what they did, just as the rest of the Justice League did Damage control.

+

Danny was chilling in his Castle and eating his Tatsy Pomegranate when he saw Frighty with a girl. She seems to be alive.

Danny learns that she is his by magic as he tries to talk to her about how he wouldn't force such a thing and send her back. She started to flirt with him! She seems to not want to return, so he would have to bring her back.

+

In the watch tower, Diana was angry at what they had done, only for a portal to open and Danny to give Wonder Girl back to them. He wants help breaking the contract.

Cassie:" Have no fear, Diana; it won't be the seduction of Cassie (Persephone). I WILL BE THE SEDUCION OF PHANTOM!"

Cassie now had a plan, and because of magic, she could return to the Castle anyway.

[rafayelxsylusho]

i feel like i never see this.. but lads men & daddy kink ? like how would they react if you let it slip out one day

Hiiiiii!!! I hope you like it!!

When you call them daddy

Rafayel/Zayne/Xavier/Sylus/Caleb

TW: SMUT

RAFAYEL 🐡

He freezes for a moment, breath hitching in his throat as he hears you let out a choked gasp and a small whimper of"Daddy." He tightens his grip on your hair, yanking your head back and exposing the smooth column of your neck He pulls your body flush against his lean, toned chest as he continues to thrust into you from behind. You can feel his heart pounding, his breath hot on your ear as he leans down.

"Did you just...?" Rafayel growls, voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. His hips never stop their relentless rhythm, cock driving into you with deep, powerful thrusts. "Did you call me Daddy?" He punctuates the question with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass.

"Well well," he murmurs, his other hand sliding around your waist "I didn't know you were into that, cutie." You grasp his hand, leading it up to your breast, he squeezes and kneads the tender flesh, thumb and forefingers plucking and rolling your stiffening nipple. He pins you harder against him, one hand dipping down to where you're joined. Fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he starts to thrust faster and deeper. The new angle has him hitting that spot inside you with every snap of his hips

A smirk tugs at his lips, eyes glinting with mischief and something more intense, more possessive. "Fuck, cutie... you want Daddy to take care of you? Beg for it. Let Daddy hear you say it again" He smiles as your only responses are breathless moans and needy whimpers, your body arching into his touch. He whispers in your ear, "That's not an answer, cutie, I want to hear you say it again"

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hip as he rolls his hips over and over again. "Who's your Daddy, baby? Say my name," he demands, voice rough with lust and anticipation. You can barely whimper his name when you feel your orgasm crash over you. He feels you clench and quiver around him as you come undone, your cries of "Daddy!" music to his ears.

Zayne🥼

Zayne's hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hilts himself fully inside you. A low groan rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your sensitive breast where his lips and tongue tease and suckle your hardened nipple. He laves the bud with the flat of his tongue before giving it a sharp nip, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

The desk creaks and shakes beneath you with each powerful thrust of Zayne's hips, his broad frame looming over your smaller one. The lamp on the desk wobbles, casting erratic shadows on the wall.

His hips slam forward, the desk shaking violently as you cry out, "Yes, Daddy!" Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks in his skin as your body clenches around his throbbing length. Zayne pauses, hips still buried deep inside your heat. He looks down at you, hazel eyes darkening with lust and a hint of surprise at your words

Zayne's smile widens, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looms over you. He rolls his hips slowly, deliberately, grinding against that sensitive spot deep inside. His voice is a low, husky rumble. "What was that, darling? I didn't quite catch that... Want to try again? Go on, sweetheart say it again." His thumb traces the curve of your lower lip, a silent command in the gesture, urging you to give him the words he craves.

"Daddy," you breathe out, the word falling from your lips like a prayer and a plea all at once. Your fingers scrabble at his back, nails digging into his skin you try to pull him closer, to bury him deeper inside you. "Please, Daddy... I need... I need you to fuck me. Fuck me hard and deep until I can't think of anything but you." Your voice rises in pitch, desperation clear in every word. 

A low, approving growl rumbles from Zayne's chest at your plea. "That's my good girl," he praises, before crashing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. At the same time, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you. He sets a punishing pace, the desk shaking again beneath you with each powerful thrust. One hand tangles in your hair, gripping tight and angling your head to deepen the kiss, while the other arm wraps around your waist to pull you flush against him.

"Cum for daddy," Zayne commands. His hips piston relentlessly, the hand fisted in your hair tightens, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. He latches onto your pulse point, sucking and biting as he chases his own release. "Let me feel you cum apart on my cock, sweetheart," he murmurs against your skin. "Squeeze daddy's dick with your tight little cunt. Milk me dry. Give me everything."

Xavier 🌟🌟

Xavier's hips undulate slowly, his hard length sliding in and out of your wet cunt with sensual precision. Warm water streams down his toned chest and abs, dripping onto your curves as you sit straddled on his lap in the deep tub. His hands grip your waist, thumbs kneading the soft flesh as he rocks into you, the gentle waves lapping at your skin with each measured thrust.

One hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and squeezing gently as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. He trails his lips down the column of your throat, pausing to suckle at your pulse point. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, matching the throbbing of his cock driving into your core.

"Nghh...Daddy...."

Xavier groans, a shudder rippling through his tall frame at the sound of your breathy moan and the pet name falling from your lips. His hips jerk, burying himself deep inside you as he fights the sudden urge to let go. "Fuck, y/n... don't call me that," he grits out through clenched teeth, voice strained with barely restrained desire. "Not unless you want me to fill this sweet cunt right here and now..."

The water sloshes around you, spilling over the side of the tub as he starts to increase his pace, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. His lips crash against yours in a kiss, swallowing your next moan as he starts to piston his hips faster, the water moving around you. One hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back to deepen the kiss as the other arm bands around your waist, crushing you against his chest. He kisses you until you're both breathless, until the coil of heat in your belly winds so tight you think you might shatter.

Suddenly, he lifts you out of the tub and carries you dripping to the bed, laying you down on the cool sheets. He looms over you, eyes blazing with lust and something deeper, more primal. He settles between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging insistently at your entrance. His large hands grip your knees, pushing them up and apart until your legs are bent at a 90 degree angle, nearly folded against your chest. It leaves you utterly exposed, vulnerable, at his mercy.

He leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he growls,

"Daddy is going to fuck you hard now, princess. Fuck you until you scream, until this needy little cunt is dripping with my cum"

Sylus🐦‍⬛

Sylus smirks playfully, eyes flashing crimson as he pins you harder against the wall, hips snapping sharply against yours. One large hand grips your thigh possessively while the other tangles in your hair, forcing your head to the side to bare your throat to his hungry mouth. Each powerful thrust grinds his pelvis against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine.

He moans against your throat, feeling your fingers gripping his silky hair. He bucks into you harder. His hand on your thigh slides up to grope your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he pulls you tighter against him. The wall creaks under the force of his thrusts and the rough treatment of your body. He then hikes your leg up higher, changing the angle and letting him drive into your pussy much deeper. "Who do you belong to, kitten? Say my fucking name."

"I belong to you...daddy!!" you whimper, eyes squeezed shut, tits bouncing in rhythm to his delicious thrusts. He licks a hot stripe up your neck before biting down on your earlobe, tugging it between his teeth. Sylus chuckles darkly, a glint in his crimson eyes as he feels your needy walls flutter around his cock. He slows his thrusts, grinding against that special spot deep inside you with maddening precision. "Louder, kitten, I didn't quite catch that. "You're going to have to be louder than that if you want daddy to hear you." Come on, y/n. Tell daddy who this greedy little pussy belongs to. Let me hear you scream it," Sylus demands, voice dripping with dark promise and barely restrained hunger.

He leans in close, breath hot against your lips as he rolls his hips, stirring his thick length inside your clenching heat. His hand releases your hair to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, but a clear warning of what's to come if you don't give him what he wants.

"I'M YOURS, DADDY!" you scream at the top of your lungs, voice ragged and desperate, just the way he wants it. Your nails dig into his scalp as you cling to him, back arching off the wall as he rails into your aching core. "I belong to you, Sylus! All yours!"

"That's right, you're fucking MINE," he snarls, eyes blazing with feral hunger as he claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake his ownership of you in every way possible. He hooks your other leg around his arm, nearly bending you in half as he looms over you, a dark god of lust and depravity. His hips are a blur as he pounds your over-sensitive flesh.

"Now cum for me" he rasps, eyes wild and intense "Give daddy what he wants."

Caleb 🪐

Caleb's breath catches as he feels your pussy engulfing him, inch by inch. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into the supple flesh as he guides you down onto his throbbing cock. He fights the urge to buck up into you, to bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. No, he wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

"Fuck..." he grits out, eyes darkening to a stormy indigo as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. So tight, so perfect..."

"Ride me, pipsqueak," he urges, his own hips surge upwards, meeting each of your slow, sensual rolls with a powerful thrust. This angle has him hitting depths you've never felt before, striking that secret spot deep inside that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. A sharp cry escapes your lips, back arching as pleasure crashes through you. His eyes darken with hunger as he watches you grip the armrest of his chair, knuckles turning white, and start to ride him with wild abandon. The sight of you taking your pleasure from him, using him for your own satisfaction, sends a surge of lust pulsing through his veins.

His hands grip your hips, fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass as he guides your increasingly frenzied movements. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through his office as you bounce on his lap, your tits jiggling with each forceful thrust. He leans forward, capturing one nipple between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud before he suckles hard, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to your cunt.

"Gods it f..feels so fucking nghh...good daddy!!" you moan, eyes rolling back.

Caleb's heart stops, time seems to freeze as your breathless words reach his ears. The way you called him 'daddy' is almost his undoing. He stills your frantic movements, gripping your hips tightly as he fights the overwhelming urge to let go, to fill your spasming cunt with every last drop of his seed. He's so close, teetering right on the razor's edge of ecstasy, your fluttering walls milking his throbbing length so perfectly.

"What did you just call me, pipsqueak?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and something darker, more possessive. "You called me...daddy?" He says the word slowly, almost reverently, as if tasting it on his tongue. His hands slide up your sides, coming to rest just below your breasts, thumbs brushing the undersides.

"I liked the sound of that," he murmurs, leaning in until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. "I liked it a fucking lot. In fact... I think I want to hear you say it again. Say it while I fuck you, while I make you scream it for the whole office to hear. Say it while I fill this greedy little cunt with my cum."

One hand slides up to wrap around your throat, possessively holding you in place. The other hand grips your ass hard enough to leave bruises, pulling you down onto him as he thrusts up into you with newfound ferocity. "Say it, pipsqueak" he demands, his voice a low, feral growl as he pounds into you with increasing intensity. His hand tightens around your throat, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place as he thrust into you. The chair creaks beneath you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing again through the room as he takes you hard and fast.

"Yes Daddy!" you cry out, your voice ringing through the office as Caleb pounds into you with renewed vigor. "It's yours, all yours! This pussy belongs to you, only you!"

Your words seem to unleash something primal within him. He stands, lifting you effortlessly as he rises, never once pulling his throbbing length from your clinging heat. He strides purposefully to his desk, sweeping the surface clear with one powerful arm before laying you down upon it. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing your screams as he drives into you with all the force of a man possessed

"Let go, pretty girl," he whispers in your ear, his voice a low, seductive rumble that sends shivers cascading down your spine. "Let Daddy feel you come undone."

[seumyo]

how easy it would be to forge itoshi rin’s signature.

“What’re you doing?”

Rin sat on your bed, his back pressed against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. Your dorm was decent, neat in some areas, and cluttered in others—nothing too bad to the point where it was concerning. The desk was stacked with books and loose papers, a mug of half-finished tea sat forgotten on the little kitchen counter, and the walls were decorated with a mix of posters that he remembered you saying that you liked, candid polaroids, and lots of memorabilia.

You sat cross-legged beside him, practically bouncing as you shoved your scrapbook into his lap, your excitement bubbling over like always. Rin had long since learned that when you got like this, there was no stopping you—only surviving.

Surviving meant just going with whatever it is that you wanted.

“You have to sign this page,” you said, pointing eagerly at a newly decorated spread.

“It’s for today, so I don’t forget it.”

Rin glanced down.

The page was filled with doodles—some of him, some of a soccer ball, and what seemed to be a very lopsided drawing of a goalpost. You’d also glued a small Polaroid of you two together from earlier, where you had ambushed him for a selfie after his practice.

Without a word, he picked up the pen (a glittery navy blue one, if he may add) you handed him and flipped to the empty space at the bottom of the page. He’d done this enough times that he didn’t need to think about it. With fluid, precise strokes, he wrote his full name: Itoshi Rin.

No embellishments, no fancy loops, just his name.

As soon as he finished, you leaned over to inspect it.

You blinked.

Then blinked again.

“That’s it?” you asked, tilting your head.

Rin frowned. “What?”

“I mean…” You pursed your lips, squinting at his handwriting like you were analyzing a piece of evidence. “Your signature is so simple. I could probably forge it.”

Rin immediately shot you a warning look, as if already giving you an internal monologue. “Don’t.”

“But it’s so easy,” you said, dragging out the last word as you grinned. “Like, I could totally get away with it.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Why would you want to?”

“Well,” you hummed, tapping your chin in exaggerated thought. “What if I need to sign something important on your behalf? Like, let’s say you’re too busy being a famous soccer player, and I need to approve some official documents for you.”

“You don’t.”

“But what if?” You smiled, leaning closer, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What if a brand deal needs your signature, and you’re not around, and the deadline is right now? I could save the day.”

“You’d get arrested for fraud.”

“Would I, though?” You poked his arm, and Rin shrugged with a quick, quiet sigh. “Because I’m pretty sure your manager would just be like, ‘Wow, what a responsible lover! Always taking care of Rin!’”

Rin’s face fell flat.

“No, they’d be like, ‘Wow, what a criminal. Get them arrested immediately.’”

You laughed, completely unbothered. “Okay, fine, I won’t forge your signature for business deals. But, hypothetically speaking, what if I had to? Like, say I get kidnapped—”

Rin groaned, already regretting engaging in this conversation.

“Why are you kidnapped now?”

“Because!” You gestured dramatically.

“Some rival team wants to use me as leverage against you. They tell me, ‘If Rin doesn’t throw his next match, we’ll make you disappear!’”

He let out a slow breath. “Then I’d just find you.”

“Oh?” You awed, tilting your head. “You’d come rescue me?”

Rin didn’t even hesitate.

Why would he?

“Obviously.”

For a brief moment, you paused, your playful demeanor faltering as you stared at him. Then, just as quickly, you shook off the thought and cheekily smiled.

“Okay, okay, new scenario,” you continued. “What if you get kidnapped—”

“Why am I getting kidnapped now?”

“Because you’re Rin Itoshi! Maybe some crazy fan takes you hostage, or a rival team wants to sabotage you, or, I don’t know, some billionaire wants to add you to their private collection of elite soccer players.”

“That’s not how people work.”

“Well, whatever the reason,” you said, waving a hand, “you’re held captive, and they demand that you sign a fake retirement letter so you can never play soccer again. But! You refuse because you’re stubborn, so they bring me in and tell me, ‘Forge his signature, or else!’”

Rin leaned his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes. He could feel you draping your legs over his, and he made no move to try to move them away. “I hate that you put this much thought into these things.”

“Come on, it’s fun.”

“No, it’s exhausting.”

“Well, since you refuse to make your signature harder to copy, you better hope no one actually tries to forge it.”

He cracked an eye open to give you a skeptical look. “Are you planning to?”

You gasped, placing a hand over your heart like he had just accused you of the worst crime imaginable. “Me? Your beloved? I would never commit fraud against you.”

Rin didn’t look convinced.

“Okay, okay,” you relented, leaning back against the pillows. “I won’t forge your signature. But you should really think about making it cooler. Maybe add a little flourish?”

“No.”

“An underline?”

“No.”

“A small soccer ball doodle at the end?”

“No.”

You pouted. “You have no fun.”

“And you have too much.”

You laughed again before turning your attention back to the scrapbook. Running a finger over his signature, you muttered, “Still, I bet I could copy it.”

Rin reached over and flicked your forehead.

“Ow!” You swatted at him, though there was no real force behind it.

He clicked his tongue, though softly. “Try it, and I’ll make sure you never get to hold my autograph again.”

You gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

You huffed before flopping onto your stomach, burying your face into the bed. “You’re so mean.”

“And you’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway.”

Rin rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached for your scrapbook, flipping through the pages filled with their memories. His name was already scrawled across several of them, marking the proof of your time together.

“Next time,” you said, peeking at him, “I’m making you sign in cursive.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No.”

“Just wait and see, Rin. I’ll wear you down eventually.”

Rin exhaled slowly. If it were anyone else, he would have dismissed the idea entirely. But this was you. If there was one thing he had learned about you, it was that you were relentless.

And, somehow, he didn’t really mind.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[radiostaticlive]

Damian and Jon get sent back in time to when Damian first joined Bruce.

Bruce: Clark please get here asap. And bring that son of yours.

Clark: Kon’s not my son, Bruce.

Bruce: Not Kon. He said he’s name is Jon.

Clark: Jon’s with me?

Bruce: Future time line stuff. Need to compare DNA to make sure their story lines up and that we don’t have a clone problem.

Clark: They?

Cut to 17 year old Damian Wayne and Jon Kent in a holding cell in the Bat cave singing Taylor Swifts Blank Space at the top of their lungs.

10 year old Damian: Stop this foolishness. Mother would not approve.

Damian (17): Just wait baby bat. You won’t care what she think in a few years.

Jon, laughing his butt off at the disgust and confusion under the carefully created mask of his best friend’s younger self.

Damian (10): I highly doubt that.

Teen Damian using every bit of mischief he learned from his older siblings: You wanna bet?

Teen Damian gives Jon a look. They then proceed to sing horribly off key.

Damian and Jon: WHEN I WAS. A YOUNG BOY. MY FATHER. TOOK ME INTO THE CITY. TO SEE A MARCHING BAND.

[himbodruid]

Sylus convinces you to spend one more night with him before returning to Linkon

Sylus x Reader

-:- some fluff -:- he loses control -:- consent is hot -:- Sylus worships her body -:-

Thank you to @ miaaa_n1Ø9 on twitter for the idea!

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI

One More Night

It was always melancholic when you had to return to Linkon. Sylus had become home for you, a safe space where you were free to be everything you couldn’t as a Hunter. You even found yourself missing Luke and Kieran’s mischief when you were gone. And you’d even grudgingly say you missed Mephisto, too.

Sitting at the edge of Sylus’s bed, you bent to pick up an article of clothing you’d dropped. Your bag was almost packed, and you were delaying the inevitable as much as you could. Sylus lounged on the bed behind you, wordlessly observing your progress.

All that was left, now, was to gather your toiletries from his bathroom. He’d tried to convince you, once, to have your own set of everything at the base, so that travel between Linkon and his home would be easier and more streamlined. At first you fought the idea, not wanting to impose or form those kinds of attachments- after all, you weren’t immune to heartbreak and had experienced it far more than you cared to admit. But as time went, you were warming to the idea of leaving traces of your presence in his spaces.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Sylus shifted behind you. Your forward motion was hindered when his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you back against him, and his breath fanned across the back of your neck. Soft kisses, feather light, landed across the nape of your neck. The sensation made your breath hitch and goosebumps raised on your skin.

“Stay,” he pleaded, his voice pitched to a low growl.

“I-“ you begin, cut off when he placed a more insistent kiss behind your ear.

“One.” His lips found your pulse.

“More.” He moved to the slope of your shoulder, tugging aside your shirt so he could have access.

“Night.” His voice was barely a whisper against your skin as you let him pull you flush against his chest.

Excuses to reject him jumped to the tip of your tongue, but they were left unvoiced. You wanted nothing more than to stay, despite knowing you shouldn’t. It would probably be easy enough to make your excuses at work. But would one night be enough to satisfy your craving for him?

You turned off the worries and just sunk into him. His hands lazily roamed your body and his lips blazed a trail on your skin. You tilted your head to the side, giving him full access to your neck. Small bites mingled with the kisses and you knew your face was flushed from it.

“Silence isn’t a yes, Kitten,” he growled, halting any further exploration until you answered him.

You pulled away to look fully at him. Your gaze shifted from his eyes, to his lips, and down his beautifully sculpted body before returning to that intense crimson regard once more.

“It’s not a no, either,” you say before slanting your lips over his. You kicked your bag away, leaning into his embrace. A rumble of approval emanated from him as you guided his hands to take your shirt off, which was swiftly followed by your bra. Elegant fingers drifted over your newly exposed skin while he coaxed you open so he could tangle his tongue with yours.

He pulled you under him, his weight pressing you into the silk sheets beneath you- sheets that felt like a cool whisper on your body compared to the heat radiating from him. He slipped effortlessly between your thighs, his narrow waist slotting so perfectly into place that you were almost certain he was made for you.

Your hands slid down his chest, exploring the valleys of his abdomen and daring to venture to the hemline of the sweatpants he wore slung low on his hips. He growled in approval, pressing his hips against yours so that you could feel how you were affecting him. The length of him was already standing at attention, resting heavy against your pelvis while still constrained in the soft fabric.

And still, his tongue plundered yours in an unhurried kiss that worked to build more heat in your core. The night was young, yet, and you wanted to be nowhere else but right there in his embrace with your hands exploring him. You were already so intimately familiar with the planes of his body, but you didn’t let that stop you from memorizing every valley, every hill that his muscles created.

Leaning on one arm, he pulled back with only enough space so that he could tug at the waistband of your leggings in silent question. You lifted your hips and helped him slide the clothing down your legs until you lay bare beneath him. His breathing turned erratic as his gaze followed the trail his hand made up your curves.

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper as if he’d never seen you before, as if you were some profound work of art laid out for his eyes only. His head dipped and he left a hot path of kisses from neck to navel, rumbles of approval falling from him in between. And all you could do was watch as this beautiful creature all but worshipped your body, awestruck at how you could ever be so lucky to have this moment to add to your memories.

He trailed lower still, leaving you a squirming mess. A hiss escaped you when he bit down on the flesh of your inner thigh, a bite that turned into him latching onto the spot. Sucking and pulling, when he finally let go, a mark already began to form there. He flashed you that arrogant lopsided smirk of his, before burying his head between your thighs and using that damnably talented tongue to bring you to the brink. Your hands gripped into his silky hair, your own head thrown back as pleasure poured from you in a series of moans.

But before you could fall over the edge, he stopped. Your disgruntled complaint only made him chuckle as he crawled back over you. He moved slow, biting kisses trailing back up your body until he settled against you once more. His hips pressed into yours, his length somehow even harder than it’d been before he started.

“Sylus,” you sigh against his lips, folding your arms around the back of his neck.

“Mmh,” he growled. “I like it when you say my name like that, Kitten.”

You huffed a laugh, kissing him again. Your impatience finally won out and your hands found the waistband of his sweats, tugging at them in the same way he tugged at your. He chuckled and freed himself from them without much help from you, but you eagerly reached for him the moment he kicked the sweats away.

“Kitten,” he moaned, hips pushing his cock further into your grip. You tightened your hand on him and his breath hitched. His eyes were closed, brow drawn down as the muscle in his jaw feathered from the effort of maintaining what little control he had left. You loved watching him come undone, loved how he trembled over you just from such a simple touch. The sounds he made shot straight to your core and you ached for him, but you were enjoying this far too much to end it just yet.

So, he made the decision for you. With heavy breaths, he jerked his hips back and panted into your neck. He gripped your wrists, holding them on either side of your head so that you would stop touching him, so that he wouldn’t end up diving over the edge before he had a chance to take you.

“You still haven’t given me a yes, Kitten,” he groaned, pressing his hips into yours. His cock slid along your folds, but did not enter. “But I don’t know if I can hold back any longer.”

You hitched your legs around his waist, opening for him. The motion placed the head of his cock right against your slit, and you lifted your hips in an effort to make him slip inside. But still, he held back.

“Sylus,” you whimpered. “Please.”

“Please, what?” He growled, carrying his hips forward so just the tip of him edged into your slick folds.

“S-sy-“ was all you managed to say. Even just that small penetration was enough to turn your brain to mush. Your heart thundered in your ears, loud enough that you were sure he could hear it too. A gentle glide forward, and then a retraction, his cock dipped into you and then left you.

“Please, what, Kitten?”

“I need you inside me,” you breathed. A growled response, and then he obliged. He drove into you, far gentler than what you wanted at the moment. While you craved the primal devouring you knew he was capable of, you couldn't deny that the slow push and pull of his cock was intense in its own way. Each forward thrust ended with a hard grind of his hips on yours before retreating. It was slow and methodical, and he plunged his tongue into your mouth with the same tempo.

Your fingers threaded through his, using his hands like an anchor when you lifted your hips to meet his. His soft, sighing grunts mingled with your own whimpered moans. The feel of him inside you, the length and girth of him, drove you mad.

Enough so, that you were shocked when you felt the pleasure coiling low in your belly already. Your moans grew louder, needier, and you let your legs lift further so that he could take you deeper, harder.

“S-Sylus, fuck,” you whimpered, burying your face in his neck as pleasure steamrolled through you.

“Come, Kitten,” he groaned, even as your walls began to flutter around him. Your cries were barely muffled by his neck as you clung to him helplessly.

“Good girl,” he chuckled, pausing so that you could have a moment to come down from the high of the release. He kissed you unhurriedly, hands leaving yours to engulf your breasts. He teased your nipples into hardened peaks before he let his mouth drop to them to tantalize you further. Your back arched into him, the motion also working to clench your walls around his cock. A moan shuddered through him, a deep guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.

“I don’t know,” he said, kissing your jaw.

“If I will be able-“ he nipped your pulse.

“To hold back any longer.” The final words ended in a raspy whisper, where he dropped his forehead against your chest. The effort he expended to contain himself showed in the way he trembled in your embrace.

“Don’t, then. Let go, Sylus,” you tell him, pulling his face back to yours.

And so he let go of his inhibitions, his body colliding against yours desperately. All you could do is cling to him, whimpering and moaning into his ear while he pistoned in and out of you. His growls, grunts, groans rise to join your sounds, a perfect duet of passion. He had you rising and falling once more before you could even prepare for the climax, and his triumphant chuckle was cut off by a sharp moan when you bit into the slope of his neck.

“Sylus,” you breathed into his ear, your words trailing off into a breathless whisper. He huffed a heated breath, snapping his hips forward with a soft grunt.

“Fuck, Kitten, do that again,” he pleaded. The steady rhythm of his thrusts grew more erratic the closer he got to his climax.

“Sylus.” Your teeth raked his earlobe and he shuddered, a guttural moan escaping him. He set a punishing pace, slamming into you over and over as the final threads of his control snapped.

“F-fuck, I’m-“ All thoughts and words escaped him, lost as he was to the pleasure zipping up and down his spine.

“Come, Sylus,” you urge, locking your ankles at his back. A sharp inhale as he understood your intent with the motion, and then his climax was rolling over him before he could even think further.

He threw his head back, a guttural cry of pleasure filling the room as his body jerked and convulsed at the sheer intensity of the release. His cock twitched and pulsed as he flooded you, sending you into another spiraling orgasm right alongside him. You arched your back, pressing your body so impossibly close to him as he buried himself as deep as he could.

He collapsed atop you, planting lazy kisses all over your face. You couldn’t help the giggles that escaped you, and soon his chuckles filled the air too. He placed his forehead against yours as he tried to calm his breathing, his eyes boring into yours with a tenderness that was near painful. His hands cupped the back of your head, thumbs brushing your cheeks while his crimson gaze flickered over yours.

“I take it that means you’re going to stay?”

You playfully punched him in the shoulder and he let out a delighted laugh. He wrapped you in his arms, rolling off you so that you faced him on the bed. Exhaustion made you feel heavy, but you still missed the weight of him pressing you into the mattress. But, he didn’t give you time to rest before he was pulling you from the sheets and ushering you into a shower with him- where he proceeded to make a mess of you over and over again. It was nearing the early hours of the morning before he finally let you rest, nestled against his side with the thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

You were right all along- one night was not nearly enough to satisfy your craving.

[wendichester]

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ no loose ends,

summary. dean braids your hair to keep you safe!

pairing. dean winchester x reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 385

You’re halfway through loading your gear when Dean walks in holding two hair ties and a look that screams mischief.

“Sit,” he says, motioning to the bed.

You blink. “Uh. Why?”

He shrugs, casually tossing the ties onto the blanket. “You’re not going out there with your hair flying around like some monster-snatching welcome banner.”

You raise a brow, amused. “Dean, I’ve been fine.”

“Not taking chances,” he says, stepping closer. “Also, it’s distracting. Like… really distracting.”

You snort. “So this is about you not being able to focus?”

“Not denying it,” he says, all shameless grin. “Now c’mon. Let me braid it. Gotta make sure my girl’s combat-ready and smokin’ hot.”

You roll your eyes but sit anyway, settling cross-legged on the edge of the mattress, your back to him. “Alright, Winchester. Impress me.”

He climbs up behind you, legs bracketing yours, fingers already fussing through your hair.

And… wow, he’s gentle. Surprisingly so. He starts at the top, clumsily parting your hair with his fingers, muttering things like “wait, is it three or four strands?” and “how the hell does anyone make this look easy?”

You try not to laugh, but you’re definitely smiling. “You know, YouTube exists.”

Dean scoffs. “Please. I’ve watched Sam stitch up a wound with dental floss. I can figure out a braid.”

He gets the hang of it eventually—kind of. It’s not the neatest braid in the world, but it’s secure, and he keeps making these little comments under his breath like “Damn, your hair’s soft,” and “I should’ve done this sooner.”

When he ties it off with a triumphant little grunt, he sits back and grabs your shoulders like he’s proud of himself. “Boom. Monster-proof.”

You turn your head, trying to catch a glimpse of the braid. “Is it cute?”

He leans in, brushes his lips against the shell of your ear. “Cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. ’Cept you, of course.”

You twist around, kiss him—soft, quick, grateful. “Thanks, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He tugs gently at the end of your braid. “Now, let’s go gank something ugly. You’re officially protected by the power of Winchester hair-care.”

You laugh. “Better than holy water?”

He winks. “Way better. This comes with smooches.”

And you follow him out, heart warm, braid bouncing behind you—monster-proof and Dean-approved, all at once.

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[youngpoetpoe]

A Night to Remember

Irene x Wendy x Male Reader

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You step into the plush hotel suite, the city’s distant hum muffled by thick windows. The air crackles with unspoken tension, a slow burn ignited hours ago at the after-party. Irene and Wendy had been circling you all night—Irene with her fleeting glances and soft smiles, Wendy with her bold winks and lingering touches. Now, alone with them, the pretense falls away.

Irene hovers near the bed, her petite 33-23-34 frame draped in sheer black lingerie that hugs her curves. Her pale skin shimmers like porcelain under the dim lights, a faint flush creeping up her neck—a telltale sign of her nerves. Her long, rich brown hair, dyed for her latest stage look, spills over her shoulders in loose waves, framing her delicate face. She fidgets, her slender fingers brushing her toned thighs, smooth and sculpted from years of dance practice. Her leader’s poise is there, but it’s undercut by a shy hesitance, her dark eyes flickering between you and the floor.

Wendy lounges against the dresser, exuding effortless confidence. Her 33-23-33 figure is wrapped in deep red lingerie, the fabric clinging to her taut abs and accentuating her smooth, pale thighs—firm yet soft, a dancer’s paradox. Her blonde hair, a bold choice for her last comeback, falls in playful curls, catching the light as she tilts her head. Her fair skin glows with a subtle sheen, her expressive eyes locking onto yours with a teasing glint. She’s all energy, a live wire ready to spark.

“You’ve been staring all night,” Wendy says, her voice bright and edged with mischief. She pushes off the dresser, hips swaying as she closes the distance. “Let’s give you something worth watching, huh?”

Irene’s breath hitches, her fingers tightening on her lace bra. “Wendy…” she murmurs, half-reprimanding, half-pleading, her tone soft like she’s still weighing her next move.

Wendy grins, nudging Irene’s shoulder playfully. “Oh, come on, unnie. He’s dying to see you let loose.” She winks at you, her blonde curls bouncing. “Right?”

You smirk, stepping closer. “She’s not wrong.”

Irene blushes deeper, her pale cheeks blooming pink, but she meets your gaze, a flicker of resolve in her eyes. “I… I want this too,” she says quietly, her voice trembling but firm, like she’s convincing herself as much as you.

Wendy’s hands slide around your waist from behind, her warm breath grazing your neck. “Then let’s make it fun,” she whispers, her lips brushing your ear, sending a jolt down your spine.

They move in sync, shedding your clothes with practiced ease—your shirt discarded, pants pooling at your feet. Irene’s eyes widen as she takes you in, her shyness warring with curiosity. Wendy lets out a low, appreciative hum, her fingers tracing your chest.

“Very nice,” she teases, her tone dripping with approval.

They glance at each other, a silent pact forming, and sink to their knees. Irene hesitates, her brown hair falling forward as she leans in, but Wendy nudges her again, a soft elbow to her side. “You first, unnie. Show him what you’ve got.”

Irene swallows, then wraps her lips around your cock, her touch tentative but precise—every move calculated, a reflection of her meticulous nature. Her mouth is warm, her tongue swirling delicately around the tip before she takes you deeper, her pale throat working as she adjusts. You groan, your hands threading through her silky brown hair, guiding her rhythm.

Wendy doesn’t wait. She slips behind you, her hands parting your cheeks before her tongue flicks against your ass. Her rimming is eager, sloppy—pure Wendy, unrestrained and bold. The wet heat of her mouth contrasts with Irene’s controlled suction, and your nerves ignite, a shiver racing through you.

“Fuck,” you rasp, your voice thick. “You’re both so good.”

Irene pulls back, her lips slick with saliva, her pale skin flushed. “Is it… okay?” she asks, her voice small, eyes searching yours for reassurance—a glimpse of the responsible leader needing validation.

“Perfect,” you tell her, pushing her head back down. She moans softly, emboldened, her tongue pressing harder.

Wendy laughs against you, her breath hot. “See, unnie? I told you he’d lose it.” Her tongue dives deeper, her blonde curls tickling your skin as she works you with wild abandon.

They switch after a moment—Wendy’s mouth claiming your cock, aggressive and deep, her throat tightening as she swallows you whole. Her moans vibrate against you, loud and shameless, her pale face glistening with effort. Irene’s tongue takes over your ass, her rimming precise now, tracing slow, deliberate circles that make your toes curl. Her pale hands grip your thighs, her manicured nails digging in slightly.

Your cock feels like it’s melting—Wendy’s wet, relentless suction pulling you apart, Irene’s warm tongue unraveling you from behind. The pleasure’s overwhelming, a dual assault that leaves you reeling. But you’re not here to just take.

“Enough,” you growl, hauling Irene up. “On the bed. Head off the edge.”

She nods quickly, her shyness fading into obedience as she lies back, her head dangling off the mattress, brown hair spilling like a dark halo. You slide into her mouth, thrusting deep, her throat clenching as she gags. Her pale skin flushes red, tears pricking her eyes, mascara streaking down her cheeks. She grabs your thighs, pulling you closer, desperate to please.

“Look at you,” you taunt, slapping her cheek lightly. “Choking like a good little slut.”

She whimpers around you, the sound raw and needy, her toned thighs trembling as she squeezes them together.

Wendy kneels behind you, her tongue back at your ass, rimming you as you fuck Irene’s face. “She’s so pretty like this,” Wendy murmurs between licks, her voice muffled but playful. Her hands knead your cheeks, her blonde hair brushing your legs.

You pull out, leaving Irene gasping, and turn to Wendy. “Your turn.”

She scrambles into position, head hanging off the edge, her blonde curls fanning out. You thrust into her mouth, her throat yielding as she takes you deep, drool spilling down her pale face. Irene crawls over, her tongue lapping at your balls, her brown hair sticking to her sweaty skin. She glances at Wendy, a shy smile flickering before she dives back in.

But you crave more. You lift Wendy up, her 47 kg frame light in your arms, her legs wrapping around you. Her red lingerie slips aside as you enter her tight pussy, bouncing her hard. She cries out, her voice piercing and unrestrained—“Oh god, yes!”—her blonde hair whipping as she clings to you.

Irene kneels behind, her tongue finding your ass again, her hands gripping your hips. The sensation—Wendy’s wet heat gripping you, Irene’s precise rimming—pushes you to the brink. Your cock throbs, every nerve alight with molten pleasure.

“Fucking sluts,” you mutter, setting Wendy down. “On all fours, now.”

They comply instantly, kneeling side by side, asses up. Irene’s pale skin glows, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders as she looks back at you, nervous but eager. Wendy wiggles her hips, her blonde curls bouncing, her thighs flexing invitingly.

You grab Irene’s hair like a leash, yanking her head back as you slam into her from behind. Her petite body jolts, her moans sharp and desperate—“Harder, please!”—her usual composure shattered.

Wendy reaches over, squeezing Irene’s hand. “You’re killing it, unnie,” she pants, her voice warm despite the chaos.

Irene squeezes back, a breathless “Thanks” slipping out, her pale face flushed with effort and gratitude.

You switch to Wendy, pulling her blonde hair as you pound into her. Her ass jiggles with each thrust, her cries loud and wild—“Use me, fuck!”—her pussy clenching tight. Irene watches, her fingers working herself, her shy facade gone.

You alternate between them, brutal thrusts treating them like yours to command. Their pale skin glistens with sweat, makeup ruined—mascara trails, lipstick smears—a debauched masterpiece.

“I’m close,” you warn, pulling out. “Kneel.”

They drop before you, mouths open, faces upturned. You stroke yourself, cumming hard, ropes of semen splattering their pale skin and dripping into their mouths. Irene’s brown hair clings to her forehead, Wendy’s blonde curls matted, both streaked with cum and sweat.

They turn to each other, kissing messily, swapping your cum with tangled tongues—a filthy, beautiful collision. Wendy giggles into it, Irene moans softly, their dynamic laid bare.

You collapse on the bed, breathless. They crawl up, flanking you—Irene on your left, Wendy on your right.

“That was… intense,” Irene whispers, her voice soft and sated, a hint of her shy self returning.

Wendy snuggles closer, grinning. “Round two later?”

You smirk, pulling them in. “Count on it.”

---

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[leclerc-hs]

a smut where you and Charles aren’t together but he likes you and found out you fucked another driver?

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your best friend have always been oddly close OR charles fucks you hard on your couch warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!!!, angst??, bad french translation, not proofread!!!! word count: ~3.4k author's note: hi not sure if this is exactly what you wanted but this is what i came up with :) xoxo

“Votre relation n’est pas normale.” Your relationship is not normal. Camille murmured softly as she reached over your shoulder, her fingers grazing the wooden bar as she retrieved her drink.

Confusion etched itself across your face, a tapestry of furrowed brows and wide, searching eyes. “On es tamis depuis tojours.” We’ve been friends since forever. You shrug your shoulders with a small smile. “It’s normal.”

“He’s all over you. Constantly.” You watch her eyes wander over to Charles, seated at the table invested in conversation with the rest of your friends. “Even when he’s not with you, he’s checking on you every second he can.”

Your stomach flutters with a cascade of butterflies at the very mention. Yet, it didn’t matter. You were friends. You let out a soft laugh, brushing off her words as you take a leisurely sip of your drink. 

“It means nothing, Cami.” You state. “Besides, I may or may not have hooked up with Lando last week.”

Camille’s fingers deliver a gentle but affection smack of your shoulder, her eyes sparkling in mischief as she gasps in amusement, the sound of her laughter ringing with a warm, melodic tone.

“Mauvaise fille!” Bad girl!

“We were drunk.”

“Was it any good at least?”

A faint, approving smile tugs at the corners of your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the pleasure. Camille responds with another tender, playful tap to your shoulder. 

“We agreed it was a one time thing only though.” You catch the bartender’s eye behind Camille and give a subtle, practiced nod, signaling for a much-needed refill.

“Qu’est-ce qu’une chose unique?” What’s a one-time thing?

You jump, slightly startled by the ambush. His voice warm.

“Rien.” Nothing. You glance over at the bartender, who has already forgotten about your request for a refill. Charles, noticing your empty glass and the delay, quickly catches the bartender’s eye with a decisive wave. Within moment, he efficiently arranges your drink to be refilled, ensuring its back in your hand in less than a minute.

“All better now, ma lapin?” My bunny. You turn your head to look at him, and a radiant smile spreads across your lips, lighting up your expression with warmth and affection.

Across from you, Camille stifles a snort, her amusement barely contained. The sound prompts you to narrow your eyes at her, a mix of curiosity and mild irritation flickering in your gaze.

Charles casually mentions that he’s heading back to the table, but before he goes, he rests his hand lightly on the small of your back, his touch warm and reassuring.

He leans in, his breath tickling your ear as he murmurs softly, “Take it easy tonight, yeah?”

The intimate proximity and his gentle tone sends a soothing shiver down your spine. You nod in acknowledgment, and with a final, lingering look that seems to convey both care and encouragement, he turns and makes his way back to the table.

“He’s so gone for you.”

-

The sun blazes high and fierce, casting a bright glare over the padel court. The air is thick and hot, and it wraps around Charles as he steps off the court for a water break.

Charles can feel the sweat beginning to bead on his brow, trickling down his face as he grabs a towel to wipe his face.

The players around him, equally drenched and exhausted.

Carlos twists the cap of his water bottle with a soft, satisfying pop, the cool hiss of escaping air mingling. As he takes a refreshing sip, he looks over at Charles with a casual yet intrigued expression. His eyes, bright with curiosity, as he casually asks, “What are you doing tonight?”

Charles tosses his sweat-soaked towel onto the bench with a practiced flick, the fabric landing in a damp heap. He then runs his hands down his drenched shirt, attempting to absorb some of the perspiration clinging to his skin. The fabric clings to him, darkened and heavy with sweat, as he wipes his face, the effort evident in every move.

Charles glances at his phone, his eyes catching the sight of two unread messages from you displayed on the lock screen. His gaze flickers to Carlos, who has also noticed the notification, his eyes shifting towards Charles with a curious glint.

“Are you seeing her later?”

“I mean, most likely,” Charles replies with a nonchalant shrug, his attempt to maintain a casual demeanor barely hiding the faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “She’s my best friend.”

“Just a best friend?” Lando then interjects, curiosity sparkling in his eyes as he studies Charles.

Charles nods, taking a deep, refreshing gulp from his own water bottle.

“Oh, thank god,” Lando exhales loudly, a wave of relief evident in his voice. “I thought you two might be more than that. I was seriously worried you’d kill me if you found out we hooked up. I mean it was just casual, nothing serious.” 

Charles seemed to freeze in place as soon as the words ‘hooked up’ left Lando’s lips. His demeanor shifted; the casual shrug was replaced by a look of stunned disbelief, his eyes widening slightly. The color in his cheeks deepened, and for a moment, it was as if he had temporarily stopped functioning.

“You did what?” Charles’s voice dropped almost an entire octave, harsh and edged with disbelief. The sudden shift in tone sliced through the air.

Lando raises his hands in a defensive gesture, his expression a blend of alarm and pleading. His wide eyes and slightly raised eyebrows convey a silent, desperate plea that said please don’t kill me

Charles could feel the frustration boiling in his chest, an unsettling mix of anger and disbelief churning within him. His mind seemed to short-circuit at the realization that you had slept with Lando; the very thought impossible to him. The notion that you, someone so significant to him, had been with someone else, especially Lando, made him feel sick. You’re his.

Charles stepped back onto the padel court with a palpable edge, his frustration visibily simmering. As he gripped his racket, each swing was swung with a fierce, and angry energy. His movements were sharp and aggressive, the ball smacking hard against the racket with a stinging crack. 

He darted across the court with a tension that made every step seemed charged, his eyes narrowing in concentration and irritation at Lando on the other side of the court. Each volley and smash seemed to resonate with his internal anger, the intensity of the game mirroring the brewing frustration inside of him.

No matter how hard he hit the ball, or how hard he worked his body in the game, the burning sensation in his chest never faded.

-

You were in the middle of pulling dinner out of the oven, a roasted chicken with sliced baby potatoes, when you heard the front door of your apartment creak open, its familiar sound echoing through the quiet kitchen. The gentle groan of the hinges hinting at someone entering. Your ears perked up at the sound, but you weren’t alarmed. A quick glance towards the door confirmed your suspicion: Charles was the only other person with a key to your apartment. 

The rich smell of rosemary and garlic filled the apartment, their scents weaving through the air. Charles inhaled deeply, unable to suppress a soft, appreciative groan from the smell. 

You carefully set the dish on top of the stove, and with a swift nudge of your hip, close the oven door. Your attire is simple and cozy, a very large sweatshirt that swallows you in its oversized embrace. Charles can’t help but smile at you, the burning in his chest fading just slightly.

Charles casually drops his phone, wallet, and keys onto the edge of the countertop nearest the kitchen archway. A tired but genuine smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he approaches you. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his chest offering comforting solidity. He’s dressed in a grey pair of sweatpants and a navy t-shirt, his hair still slightly damp from a recent shower. The contrast between his casual, relaxed appearance made your insides feel like goo. 

You can’t help but notice a subtle shift in Charles, his demeanor more reserved than usual. Despite his warm smile and appreciative comments about dinner, and the occasional small talk, there’s an unmistakable quietness about him.

His words come more infrequently, and when he does speak his responses are rather brief, lacking the usual depth and enthusiasm.

The contrast between his silence and typically engaging nature leaves you lingering with a sense of concern as you bury your body under a heap of blankets on the plush couch.

Charles settles beside you on the couch, his feet propped up comfortably on the coffee table. The soft glow of the TV, which is playing a random movie neither of you are really paying attention to, casts a gentle light across the room. The flickering screen illuminates his features in a warm, calming way.

“Il y a quelque chose qui ne va pas?” Is something wrong?

His head immediately turns to you, an unmistakable glint in his eyes. “Hm?” He plays it off, not really sure if he’s ready to have this conversation just yet.

“What’s wrong?” You say again, turning your body to face him now. “You’ve been so quiet tonight.”

He gazes at you for a few moments, his eyes distant and contemplative, as if he’s lost in a deep, lingering thought. The silence between you two stretches, its weight almost palpable, and you can’t help but feel a growing sense of unease.

“You can tell-“ You don’t even get to finish your sentence.

In the blink of an eye, his hands move to the back of your head with sudden, determined force. He pulls you towards him, and before you can fully grasp what’s happening, his lips crash against yours in a fierce, unexpected kiss.

You react almost instinctively, your fingers reaching out and gripping his shoulders not to push him away, but to draw him closer. The urgency and depth of his kiss awakens a surge of emotion, and you pull him towards you, deepening the connection between you. Your hips immediately begin rolling into him, almost an involuntary move.

It takes an even shorter amount of time for his tongue to slip into your mouth, his hands trailing to the back of your knee, grasping it and slipping it over his lap, until you’re fully seated on his lap.

He doesn’t break the kiss. No, for a few minutes it’s just all tongue and teeth clashing. Not even gentle. If he could swallow you whole, he would.

It’s not until you pull back, your lips tingling and swollen, and your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, that you finally meet his gaze. His once vibrant green eyes are now completely darkened, their usual brilliance replaced by an intense, smoldering depth that reflects the fervor of the moment.

He’s insanely hard as you rut against him, your hips involuntarily slowly rolling against him like you have no control of your body.

“That’s it, fuck,” He groans, guiding your hips to grind against him harder. A measly pair of sleep shorts and sweatpants layered between you both. “Such a good girl, yeah?”

Soft whimpers escape your lips, your breath hot on his ear as drop your head forward into the crevice of his neck.

You’re uncertain about what this means for the two of you, but you know you can’t stop. The room is thick with tension, the air charged with unspoken words and electric anticipation. The burning sensation in your stomach intensifies, a fiery knot of emotions. Meanwhile, Charles feels as if his heart might burst from his chest, its rapid beats echoing in the depth of his feelings and raw intensity of the moment.

Your cheeks are scarlet red, and it isn’t until your orgasm approaches that your hips are moving at a feverish pace. No longer able to even fully kiss him as your mouth widens and soft high- pitched moans escape against his own mouth. And he swallows every moan you give him. 

He gives you no time to recover before his large fingers are sprawled across your neck, shoving you down to the couch onto your back and slipping your sleep shorts off. The cool air of your apartment is a stark contrast to your soaked core.

“Please,” You beg, Charles fingers still pressed into the soft skin of your neck, no doubt leaving little marks. 

For a moment, Charles takes in the sight before him. His cock twitches against the band of his sweatpants, he’s so hard that it’s almost painful. 

“What do you need?”

“Charlie please, I really need you to fuck me.” You plead again, breaking Charles out of whatever trance he was in. 

It’s hurried. He reaches behind his head with one hand, grasping a fist full of fabric of his navy t-shirt before pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. A rush of not so smooth moments as he shoves his sweatpants and boxers down. They aren’t even completely off, resting just below his knees because he’s in too much of a hurry to finally be inside of you.

He leans his full weight into you, slipping his cock into you slowly. The burning sensation feels too good that you can’t help but bite your lips to refrain from moaning too loudly.

It’s not until he’s fully bottomed out inside of you that he tilts his head forward with a brutal moan, the chords in his neck prominent as your walls clench tightly around him.

“Fuck,” He mutters, not moving his hips yet. “You’re a tight little thing, aren’t you?”

You were shaking at this point. At how much he filled you. His cock was pressed up deliciously against your walls. He could feel your walls trembling against him, and he hadn’t even moved yet.

He rests with both arms at the sides of your head now, one more rested on his elbow while the other was locked straight as he begins rolling his hips into her, not even full strokes yet as he lets your body adjust to him.

Your eyes sparkle up at him with a smile tugged on your lips, and he swears his heart might beat out of his chest.

It’s not until his hand slips under the back of your knee again, guiding it up until its pressed to your chest that he picks up the pace of his hips. His fingers grip your leg tightly, his full body weight leaning into the pressure of his grip on your leg.

You couldn’t handle the way he was staring at you. A smirk toyed on his lips. 

For a flash of a moment, the image of you and Lando flickers into his mind. Driving him crazy.

He was ruthless. Fucking you deep and hard into the cushions of the couch. Your fingers gripped his arms, digging your nails into the skin of his biceps.

Your pussy flutters around his cock. “Do that again,” He groans. So you do. “Fuck, just like that.”

You’re not sure how it was possible, but he begins to pump his length into you at a deeper and more intense angle.

His breaths were jagged in heavy in your ear as he drops down, his chest now pressed to yours. “Open up, baby.” His voice is hushed, deep breaths in between each word like he’s struggling.

You don’t even need to ask, opening your mouth he lets the spit of his mouth fall into yours in a stringy mess. “Oh, God.” You groan at the sensation of his spit in your mouth.

It only takes a few more minutes before you’re shoving your head deep into the cushions, your head lolled back in pure pleasure as your orgasm crashes into you, throbbing and shaking around his cock. You cried out shamelessly, unable to stop your body from shaking.

“Fill me up, please” You beg. “Need you inside of me.”

Charles can feel his resolve slipping. “Yeah?”

You nod feverishly as Charles slows the pace of his hips, still hitting in harsh and calculated strokes. He came with a loud groan, his face pressed into the crevice of your neck as he loses all senses of strength and collapses on top of you.

For a few moments, you just lay there with him on top of you, paying attention to the heavy even breaths you both share. Eventually, you both move in silence. Charles making sure to clean you up with the care and concern he always has for you. Your heart lurches in your chest as he removes the wet cloth from you, all cleaned up now.

“Are you okay?” You ask with slight concern. “That was-“

He cuts you off. “Did you really fuck Lando?”

His words have you caught completely off guard, your cheeks reddening almost instantly. “Where did you hear that?” You feel the panic form in your throat.

“Where did I hear that?” He repeats, his tone sharp. “That’s all you have to say?”

“No,” you say, your fingers gently playing with the delicate baby hairs at the nape of Charles’s neck. “I mean, yes.” You take a deep breath and come clean. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He scoffs slightly, his hands finding a comfortable grip on the flesh of your hips, the hem of your sweatshirt bunched around them.

“God, you really don’t know do you?” He adds, his head falling back against the couch cushions. A deep breath escaping his chest as he shuts his eyes momentarily, his frustration and weariness palpable.

“Know what?” You ask, feeling your heartbeat quicken. A swarm of nerves knots in your stomach as his fingers grip and release your hips in a rhythmic, anxious pattern. 

“That I love you.” He lifts his head, locking his gaze with yours, his eyes intense and sincere as he enunciates each word with a deliberate clarity. “That I’m in love with you.” The weight of the confession hangs in the air, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“Charlie,” You whisper, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotion. You lean forward, your body naturally collapsing into his chest as his arms slide up your back, enveloping you in a sweet embrace. His hold tightens, drawing you closer, and you nestle against him, the warmth and solidity of his presence providing a comforting anchor. 

“You’re mine,” He says, as if he’s talking to himself. Reminding himself. “You’ve always been mine.”

“My Charlie,” You smile softly. “I love you too.”

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

High-Value Target

Pairing: Task force 141 x Soldier!Reader

The briefing room was buzzing with anticipation.

Task Force 141 rarely got new blood, and even when they did, it was usually some solid operator with passable skills—not the kind of legend they were about to meet. The dossier on the table was immaculate. Flawless mission execution, unrivaled hand-to-hand combat skills, top of her class in advanced recon and assassination. Even Ghost, who barely gave out praise, muttered a low, “Bloody hell.” when he skimmed through the stats.

Soap whistled, flipping through the pages. “Whoever this guy is, he’s a machine.”

“More like a ghost,” Gaz added. “Been attached to multiple high-profile operations, all with near-perfect outcomes.” He glanced at Price. “How the hell did we even land them?”

Price smirked, arms crossed. “Favors. Strings pulled. And a bit of luck.”

The door to the room opened, and all eyes flicked up—ready to meet the highly anticipated new operator.

And then she walked in.

Silence.

Ghost leaned back slightly in his chair. Soap sat up straighter. Gaz blinked like he’d been hit with a flashbang.

The guy they had all been hyping up? Not a guy at all.

She was American, too. That was the second shock.

She stood confidently, expression unreadable as her gaze swept the room, taking in each of them like she was assessing a threat. Her movements were deliberate, controlled, the kind of presence that told them all she was just as deadly as her file made her out to be.

Soap was the first to recover. “You’re… not what I was expectin’.”

She arched a brow. “What were you expecting?”

“Someone less… eh, distracting.” His grin was pure mischief.

Gaz scoffed. “He means someone ugly.”

Her lips curled slightly, but she didn’t entertain the joke. “Disappointed?”

“Far from it,” Ghost murmured.

Price cleared his throat, stepping forward. “You’re a long way from home, Sergeant.”

She turned her attention to him, offering a sharp salute. “Not the first time, sir.”

Price gave a nod of approval before the rest of the team jumped in.

“So, what do we call you?” Gaz asked. “Your file just has your last name.”

Soap rubbed his chin, eyeing her with a smirk. “I’m thinkin’… Yankee.”

Groans echoed around the table.

“That’s terrible.” Gaz shook his head.

“You’re terrible.”

“She’s from America, aye? It fits.”

She rolled her eyes. “Call me whatever you want, just don’t get in my way.”

Soap grinned. “Oh, I like her.”

Before anyone could throw out another nickname, Ghost leaned back in his seat and drawled, “Ace.”

A pause.

Gaz nodded. “That’s actually decent.”

Soap pouted but relented. “Alright, alright. Ace it is.”

The banter continued—multiple offers for drinks, jokes about whether she was single, and Soap loudly declaring that Ghost had competition for brooding dominance. It took Price stepping in to get them back in line.

“Enough,” he barked, glaring at his men. “You’re soldiers, not a damn welcome committee.”

A few chuckles. No real apologies.

Then, to her surprise, Price turned to her. “Ace, with me.”

She followed him out of the room, a bit curious as to why he wanted a private word. The second the door shut, he let out a slow breath and gave her a look she couldn’t quite read.

“You alright with all that?”

She smirked. “I’ve handled worse.”

“I don’t doubt it.” His gaze lingered for a moment before he straightened, voice dropping to something lower, quieter. “I’d tell you to ignore their flirting, but…” He exhaled. “That’d be hypocritical of me.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “…Sir?”

His jaw flexed, then a slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.

“Dinner. My treat.”

She tilted her head, considering him. “Is this an order?”

Price chuckled. “No, Ace. It’s an invitation.”

For the first time, she was the one caught off guard.

[bunni-v1]

Oh, I would absolutely love to find out (in response to the post about Reader treating his minions like kids)! How do you think Shadow Milk would be like as a father? How would he treat his kid? :)

I don’t think Shadow Milk likes kids… but I also think he loves kids. Does that make sense? Like, he finds kids snotty and annoying, but they’re also really funny. They do stupid stuff and they’re so simple, it almost makes all their annoying habits cute. Almost.

He doesn’t really think too hard about having kids, mostly because… why would he? He’s an immortal god, he doesn’t really need to reproduce for any reason. But if he were presented with the idea by his partner I don’t think he would oppose. In fact, he loved the idea of making a kid! That’s all fun and dandy, but after the child is born (baked?) how does he feel.

Well, believe it or not, he realizes that he does like kids really quickly! Just, only his kids. Every annoying trait he seemed to despise before becomes undeniably charming coming from his little one. Oh, and if they look anything like you, help his soul he may crumble on the spot. He can’t help the way his dough softens when they bat their little eyes up at him all innocent like.

He 100% has a set of twins (bless his insane gene pool), and they are the lights of his life. They’re a nice mix of the both of you, and you’ll catch him staring at them a lot. He just can’t help it, seeing the product of your love is nice. Just one glance and any cookie could tell who’s the parents, it’s nice to have that literal living reminder that you love him enough to settle (sorta) with him.

They really can do no wrong in his eyes, unless you say they’re doing wrong, then it’s “listen to your parent kiddo” because he’s still stupidly in love with you. If you’re not around to tell them no, he’ll let them do whatever the hell they want. Hell, he encourages mischief and misbehavior, so long as they won’t get hurt from it.

He’s the fun dad, which is to be expected. He takes them on adventures and teaches them how to play pranks and even teaches them magic if they like. He wants them to grow up feeling like they’re on top of the world, because they are.

Still, he instills and demands respect toward both of you from them. He’s not above (reasonable and approved by you) punishments for either of them taking it too far. He also won’t tolerate disrespect to you, even if you’re the “no fun” one.

And, keeping it real for a second, he loves his kids. He really does. He’d never imagined having little cookies to care for, but he’d kill for them. When he first held their tiny little bodies in his arms, his whole world came together.

He’d lived his whole life bigger and grander than any other cookie, but holding his babies with you at his side… well he’d never felt smaller. He doesn’t typically like quiet, but he had no words to fill up the silence as he stood in awe of the beautiful children in his arms.

He’s a good dad, he wants to be a good dad. I know it’s hard to believe but once he gets these things he cherishes them. He would never forsake the family he was able to build up and keep as his own. The few cookies in all of earthbread that he let in would be loved like no others.

[my-castles-crumbling]

arcade - October 17th - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 320

"Do you see anything?" Regulus whispered, gazing into his binoculars, ignoring the feeling of ridiculousness that was creeping over him.

"No," James whispered back, also trying his best to stare into binoculars, despite the way his glasses pressed into the bridge of his nose.

They were both silent for a moment, looking through the small eyepieces.

"Why are we whispering?" James whispered after a moment, turning to his husband.

Regulus sighed, looking over to James, who had looked away from the arcade they were parked in front of. "I don't know! Because he might sense our presence from here?"

"He is smart," James nodded, grinning. "He got that from you."

Regulus snorted, rolling his eyes. "You know he's not biologically mine, right?"

But James just laughed. "And yet sometimes he acts like your moody little clone."

Flipping James off, Regulus looked back to the building. "I can't find him. But I think-"

At that moment, he stopped talking, as both men caught sight of their son in one of the windows.

Their son and Draco Malfoy, whom he'd sworn he was not going to see.

"I knew it!" James hissed, slamming the binoculars back to his face. "That little shit lied right to our faces!" But he was grinning as he said it, because of course his son was capable of such mischief.

"James!" Regulus admonished, but he was staring and smiling, too. After a moment, he sighed. "What do we do? We don't want him to know we followed him."

But, remembering his own teenage years sneaking around with a boy he was afraid nobody would approve of, James turned to his husband and took his hand. "Let's just go easy on him, yeah? Maybe...maybe Draco's not like his family, you know?"

And Regulus smiled softly, eyeing their intertwined fingers. "Hm...like father like son, eh?"

"Hmmm. Now let's get home before he sneaks back and finds out we're gone."

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞—𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: They are technically yours. But he owns them.

Warnings: Tiddie obsessed Jeongin. No plot, just Smut🔞. Sucking, fingering, pet names, touchy and kinda whiney Innie. Hand kink(???)

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: I'm on a writing rampage right now, did I just post like 4 one shots in a row?!

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 1.5k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Jeongin is the sweetest gentleman, the walking green forest, the best boyfriend when he’s with you.

Surprises you with the cutest dates, refuses to let go of your hand when walking through the aisles in the grocery store, snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, literally wanting to merge you into his soul. He’s just that devastatingly in love with you.

And this is the same gentleman, lover boy Jeongin who is obsessed with your boobs. And not just obsessed. He possesses your tits. 

The way his face brightens like a thousand suns when he catches you not wearing a bra, has him giggling, if he could deadass replace that piece of clothing with his hands, he would do it without hesitation.

But during some mornings—like today—you have to physically push him away from your chest so that you can get ready for work which only has him sulking the entire day.

He'll act like it's the end of the world, as if the universe is being cruel to no one but him, refusing to do anything, be an emotionless robot at the studio that half pisses Chan off. 

And once you come back, does he greet you with a hello? Hey baby, how was your day? No.

“Get here before I rip that top off.” His eyes burned, hungrily. Arms were crossed as he sat on the couch, waiting for you to get back home. 

“Well hello to you too,” You said, kicking your shoes off and hanging your jacket. Sometimes you wondered if he dated you for you or your boobs but deep down you could feel a blooming sense of pride how Jeongin basically survives just because of your pretty mounds.

"Don't start," he warned, his foot tapping against the floor like he was holding himself back from pouncing on you.

"Innie, you behave like you haven't seen them in years," you teased, crossing your arms under your chest just to test him. His jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes dropped straight to where you wanted them.

A low growl rumbled in his throat before he was up on his feet, closing the space between you in two quick strides. His hands found your waist, firm but gentle, tugging you closer until you had no choice but to tip your head back to meet his gaze.

He scoffed, shaking his head before he pulled the neckline of your top enough to get a peek. His eyes darkened as he hummed in approval.

You smacked his hands away. "At least let me change first!"

He arched a brow. "Change into what?" He looked like you had just insulted him in the face.

His pout was almost convincing, but you knew better. He was the same guy who’d whined dramatically when you wore a turtleneck last week, claiming it was "the worst betrayal known to mankind" because he "couldn’t even get a glimpse" the whole day.

A strong hand cupped your right breast over your top, a dimpled grin deepening on his cheek. “I'm reclaiming what’s mine."

“Huh, excuse you!” You swatted his hand away again playfully and he lost it. 

Jeongin let out a frustrated groan, his fingers flexing at his sides as if he was physically restraining himself from grabbing you again. His jaw clenched, and that all-too-familiar spark of mischief flickered in his dark eyes.

"Come on, baby," he whined, begging you, dragging his hands down his face. "I've been deprived. Starved. Look at me."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest just to taunt him. "Oh, please. You're acting like you haven't had your hands on me all week."

Jeongin tilted his head back, literally one second away from throwing a tantrum. "Yeah, but that was all in moderation. I need full access, no limitations."

You narrowed your eyes at him and he whined again shamelessly. “Please pleaseeee baby,” he cupped your breast again and you didn’t swat him away this time. “I need it…please...” 

Dear god how can you say no to that voice and those eyes? Big, pleading, glimmering with just enough desperation to make your stomach twist in the most delicious way. That whine in his voice, the way he squeezed your breast in his palm like he’d die without it, had you sighing in mock defeat.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your fingers threaded into his hair, nails grazing his scalp.

Jeongin grinned, a triumphant smug, before his lips brushed your jawline, pressing slow, teasing kisses down your neck. His hand flexed over your breast, massaging, thumb flicking lazily over the clothed peak.

Then he was suddenly gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, walking into your shared bedroom and tossed you onto the mattress. A surprised squeal left your lips as you landed, but he was already hovering over you, caging you in with his arms on either side of your head.

“Mmm, I missed these,” he murmured, nosing along your collarbone before nipping at your skin. “Missed you.”

Your breath hitched, heat curling low in your stomach. “Jeongin—”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, voice dripping with that lazy sympathy as he sucked a mark right where your shoulder met your neck. His free hand slid down, touching the hem of your top and pushed it up, before you knew he had removed it and your pink bra had found a new home on the floor. 

His brain short circuited when his eyes landed on your pretty tits, his huge hands, long fingers closed over the soft flesh, his thumbs flicking over the now hard, sensitive peaks, before the tip of his tongue painted ghost circles over your areola making your thighs clench instinctively.

His lips brushed over the swell of your breast, latching his mouth onto your exposed skin, leaving another mark on you. His tongue flicked, teeth grazing your nipple and took it in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make your back arch into him.

Your fingers tugged at his hair, making him groan against you. His hands roamed, gripping, squeezing, like he had to feel every inch of you at once.

You gasped as he continued sucking greedily with just enough pressure to have your stomach flipping. Jeongin hummed, laving his tongue over the sensitive bud, before moving to the other one, giving it just as much attention.

He couldn't get enough. If he could have his mouth where it "deserved" to belong, he'd stay where he is right now forever. His breathing was erratic but he didn’t care. His slurps and wet groans rumbled through his chest, sending pleasuring shockwaves through you. 

"You're so soft," he murmured, voice husky, lips pressing teasing kisses over the marks he’d already left, his hands kneading, squeezing and playing with your tits. 

Sure, his slender hands, warm mouth gave you ounces of pleasure but touching and tasting you just gets him off and so down bad.

His lips were swollen from the continuous sucking and your nipples were slick with his saliva and still he dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving behind a wet trail of warm, open mouthed kisses.

“Innie,” you gasped when he rolled and lightly pinched the bud. 

“Hmm?” he hummed against your skin, a smirk evident in his tone. “I’m listening, baby.”

He wasn’t. Not really. He was too caught up in you, too obsessed with the way your body reacted under his touch. His long fingers slid down the valley of your stomach before it slipped in your skirt, tracing his fingertips over your soaking panties. 

You couldn't make out words. A long moan slipped past you when he pushed the drenched fabric to the side and thrusted two of his digits inside your cunt while his mouth was reattached on your breast.

It felt like heaven. To you and him.

His fingers curled just right and his mouth worked just right that had you squirming beneath him, your hands tangling the strands of his hair. 

“More…Innie,” your voice was breathless, pleading, and it sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

Jeongin’s smirk deepened at the way you gasped his name, his hands never stopping their slow, torturous exploration. 

His thumb pressed on your clit right as he hit the sweet spot, your release gushed down your thighs and his fingers, the purring hum of him vibrating over your skin as he released your now swollen nub with a pop!

You looked up at Jeongin who's now half groggy gaze never left yours, lips glistening with a lazy smile tugging the corners.

He withdrew his fingers, licking them clean and rested his head back again on your chest, his other hand closing possessively over the flesh. 

“Mine.” He commanded, a feather light kiss brushing past your skin, his eyes closing as he laid his head on you, falling asleep under the sound of your heartbeat.

You had held him gently, threading your fingers through his hair, soothing him into his slumber as he slept on his favourite pillow but you couldn't help but wonder if what he meant was you or your boobs. 

But again, you couldn't have it any other way. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca @greyyeti

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment <3 (If I missed someone please lmk)

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[4vanaa]

—01 MEET THE CAMERONS.

MASTERLIST

Parenting Style:

You:

⌗ you’re the glue that holds everything together. you’re the calm in the storm, trying to create some order amidst the chaos rafe and the kids inevitably bring. you're fair but firm when it comes to rules and expectations, though you’re not afraid to bend the rules to make everyone happy sometimes.

⌗ you’re the one who handles the serious stuff, like school projects, making sure everyone gets to their activities on time, and having family meetings when things get too crazy.

⌗ your biggest challenge is managing the emotional rollercoaster that is rafe's unpredictable behavior while also balancing the needs of the kids.

⌗ you’re a very hands-on parent, emotionally available for your kids. giving them the space to grow but also have a warm side. you always know when to step in with advice or affection and when to let them figure things out on their own.

Rafe:

⌗ rafe tries to be the “cool dad” who doesn’t follow any rules, especially when it comes to his teens. he’s big on freedom, thinking his kids should have the freedom to make mistakes and learn from them. but when it comes to his younger kids, he's surprisingly soft. when you’re not around, rafe’s the one sneaking treats to the kids or letting them stay up way past bedtime because “who needs sleep anyway?”

⌗ rafe’s biggest flaw is his impulsiveness, which often leads to trouble. he's not exactly a role model in terms of structure, but his kids love him for his authenticity, especially when they’re old enough to understand how flawed he is.

⌗ while he's overprotective in some ways (especially with his oldest daughter), rafe does everything with love. he’s not the parent who will sit down and have deep heart-to-heart talks, but he’ll show love in unconventional ways, like fixing a bike or defending them fiercely when someone dares to challenge them.

⌗ rafe can’t resist showing off to the kids—whether it’s bragging about something ridiculous or trying to impress them with his "skills." but he’s deeply emotional when it comes to his family and would do anything to protect them (even if his methods are questionable).

The Kids:

AVA CAMERON (15)

PERSONALITY ava is headstrong, sarcastic, and fearless. she takes after both you and rafe—she has your intelligence and sharp wit but rafe’s defiance and impulsiveness. she’s known for pushing boundaries, especially with rafe, whom she has a love-hate relationship with. she’ll challenge him on everything, but deep down, she knows he’d do anything for her.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HER DAD ava and rafe constantly butt heads. she thinks his overprotectiveness is ridiculous, but she secretly craves his approval. she’ll act tough, but she’s incredibly sensitive, and rafe is the first person she goes to when she needs emotional support (though it’s rarely obvious to anyone else).

RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM you and ava have a special bond where you can communicate with just a glance. you know when she’s upset or hiding something, and she knows you’re the one she can go to when rafe is being... rafe. she trusts you even though she keeps a lot of her emotions locked away.

FUN FACT ava is known for sneaking out of the house with her friends or boyfriend, and while rafe might rage over it, you just give her a disappointed look, and she feels guilty enough to come clean.

MILO CAMERON (10)

PERSONALITY milo is a mischief-maker who often finds himself caught between his older sister’s drama and rafe’s wild ideas. he’s sarcastic but with a more dry sense of humor and often the mediator when things go off the rails in the family. milo is the kid who, when faced with chaos, will either laugh or attempt to solve it with a quirky solution.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS DAD milo is rafe’s favorite person to hang out with because milo can keep up with his energy and unpredictability. they do a lot of “guy stuff” together, like fixing things around the house, going on “secret” adventures, or talking about the things rafe pretends to be an expert at.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS MOM you and milo are like two peas in a pod. he’s very emotionally in tune with you and often tries to cheer you up when he knows you're dealing with rafe’s chaos. he knows how to make you laugh in the most stressful moments.

FUN FACT milo has a knack for getting out of trouble. if he gets in trouble at school, he’ll somehow find a way to talk his way out of it, often with rafe’s unintentional help.

POPPY CAMERON (3)

PERSONALITY poppy is the wild child, known for her tantrums and her adorably mischievous smile. she’s fearless, loves to run around the house, and has a particular love for barry (who, of course, enables her chaos). she’s the youngest, so she gets away with everything, and she knows it.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HER DAD rafe is a softie when it comes to poppy. he’s the one who’ll give her anything she asks for, even if it’s a sugar-loaded snack before dinner. he finds her tantrums funny rather than frustrating, which makes you roll your eyes—but secretly, you love how much he dotes on her.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM you’re the one who has to deal with poppy’s “I want this NOW” demands. poppy has you wrapped around her little finger, and she knows it. she’s also the first to notice when you're upset and will crawl into your lap to comfort you, even if it’s just by offering you a cookie.

FUN FACT she has rafe under her spell and often drags him into her mischief.

FAMILY DYNAMICS

DINNER TIME at your house is a mix of chaos and love. ava will be sulking about curfew, milo will be chatting about his day with such enthusiasm that you and rafe can’t help but laugh, and poppy will spill her drink all over the table, leading to more chaos.

RAFE WILL ALWAYS try to sneak in action-packed movies (and somehow convince you to let the kids watch them). you’ll try to suggest a family-friendly comedy, but it’s usually a battle. in the end, everyone ends up in the living room, snacks everywhere, with rafe on the couch like a proud, mischievous child.

RAFE GIVES THE WORST, but most well-meaning advice. he’ll tell ava to “not let anyone tell you what to do” when she’s dealing with bullies at school. when milo gets in trouble for a school prank, rafe will secretly high-five him while you give rafe a disapproving look.

EVERY TIME ONE of the kids gets in trouble, rafe somehow shows up with a spontaneous adventure—a trip to the beach, a surprise boat ride, or letting them stay up an extra hour to do something “fun.” it’s his way of showing love, but it doesn’t always help their behavior.

YOU’RE ALWAYS THE ONE to solve the problems rafe causes—whether it’s calming down ava after an argument or cleaning up after poppy’s mess. but your kids know that, despite the chaos, you’re the rock of the family. your love for them is unshakable, even when things are a mess.

a/n: meet the maybanks coming tm <333

🏷️: @rafecameronswifeyy @papercranesandinkstains @akobx @delicatevamps @sereneera @ethanthequeefqueen @zuccheromorena @theanonymousloser @chalahyung01 @mystic-megumi @acidfeens @judesgfirl @rubiehart @callieyanderechan @amterasuu @smithieandy @theeternaloptimistt @marleymarleymarleymarley @lilygrxcem @fieryghxul @luvelola @aias-fxtns @starkeysbaby @brxght-world @drewsswifeyy

[tfwbluu]

・ SESSION #4 ・

pairing sunoo & f!reader 1895 words warnings mean!dom!noo & sub!reader drinking games reader’s tipsy raw sex (stay safe!) breeding kink fingering degradation/praise pet names overstimulation mentions of morning after pill

Sunoo was one of Viesczy’s most alluring hosts, and he knew it. He wielded his charm like a sly fox, luring his prey in with innocent smiles and honeyed words, only to devour them whole when they least expected it.

Perhaps that’s what drew him to you—the way he could play the perfect gentleman, only to turn into something far more sinful behind closed doors. He had his preferences, his turn-ons, and one of them was being in control.

The drinking game had left you warm and flushed, a pleasant buzz humming in your ears. Sunoo, on the other hand, remained perfectly composed, watching you with amusement as your thighs pressed together, your soaked panties evidence of just how much the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions.

“Are you already tipsy?” he chuckled, tilting your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Mhm… no…” you mumbled, though the way you leaned into his touch betrayed you.

Sunoo only smiled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Come here, sweetheart,” he murmured, effortlessly pulling you into his lap, slotting his thigh between your legs.

You sighed into his warmth, burying your face in his neck, breathing in the faint notes of vanilla and musk that clung to his skin. Your arms wrapped around him instinctively, lips pressing soft, needy kisses along his jaw.

“Needy, aren’t you?” he teased, leaning back slightly to give you more access, his hands resting firmly on your hips.

“Sunoo…” you whined, the sound breathy, desperate. Your body moved on its own, rolling your hips against the firm muscle of his thigh, the friction sending sparks through you.

“It’s okay, doll,” he cooed, his fingers tightening ever so slightly. “I’ve got you.”

His hands settled on your waist, guiding your movements as you rutted helplessly against his thigh. The friction sent waves of heat through your body, making you whimper against his neck.

“Awe, aren’t you a desperate little thing,” he cooed, his tone dripping with amusement as he felt the dampness seeping through your panties. “So worked up already… just from a little alcohol and teasing?”

You whimpered in response, gripping his shoulders as your movements grew more desperate. Sunoo only chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll take care of you.”

His lips crashed against yours, the kiss deep and insistent, his fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, a silent demand that you eagerly obeyed, parting for him as he swallowed every needy sound you made.

Your hands roamed over his body, fingers lazily mapping out the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. A quiet hum of approval rumbled from his throat as his hands drifted lower, teasing the hem of your top.

He pulled away just long enough to strip it from you, his movements fluid and practiced. In one swift motion, he unhooked your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders, leaving you bare beneath his heated gaze.

His fingers traced slow, teasing circles over your waist before gliding up to cup your breasts, his touch both gentle and possessive. His lips ghosted over your skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, marking you in deep shades of cherry and plum.

“So pretty,” he mumbled, admiring the way your body trembled under his touch.

“Ngh… Sun, please… need you,” you whined, fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

He chuckled darkly against your skin. “Are you sure you can take me, doll?” he teased, nipping at your collarbone just to hear you gasp. “Once I start, I won’t stop until I’m satisfied.”

Your breath hitched. “I can take it—can take you, just—ah!” A sharp cry escaped your lips as he suddenly flipped you onto the plush bed, his body hovering over yours.

His eyes darkened as he pushed your skirt up, revealing the damp fabric clinging between your thighs. His thumb brushed over the soaked material, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Be a good girl for me, okay?” He slipped your panties off effortlessly, his touch deliberate and teasing. His fingers trailed over your slick folds, gathering the evidence of your arousal before pressing against your entrance.

“You’re already so wet, angel. It’s cute,” he teased, his voice dripping with that sweet yet sinful charm, his fingers tracing gentle circles against your drenched clit.

Before you could even process his words, he pushed two fingers inside, filling you in one swift motion. A gasp tore from your lips—his fingers moved quickly, curling just right, coaxing desperate moans from your throat as pleasure consumed you.

“F-fuck! Sunoo… hnghh, feels so good…!” you whined, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly, your body writhing beneath him, overwhelmed by the pleasure. Sunoo clicked his tongue, his grip tightening around your waist.

“Stay still,” he commanded, his voice firm. With ease, he pinned you down, his strength keeping you in place. “If you keep squirming, I might just have to punish you, sweetheart.”

“Then make me,” you teased, even surprising yourself with your sudden confidence. Sunoo’s eyes darkened, his lips curling into an innocent smile that contrasted the sinful promise in his gaze.

“Oh? Looks like I need to teach you a lesson for talking back, hmm?” he mused, slowly pulling his fingers from your dripping core, hitting it with a sharp slap, leaving you clenching around nothing.

Before you could protest, he shed his clothes with ease, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. He wasted no time in yanking your skirt down, leaving you bare beneath him.

“No complaining, doll. You take what I give you,” he breathed out, positioning himself at your entrance.

Without warning, he pushed inside, stretching you open in one swift motion. A sharp gasp left your lips, but he didn’t give you a moment to adjust—his hips were already moving, setting a relentless pace that had you seeing stars.

“F-fuck~! Sunoo!” you cried out, your back arching off the bed, pleasure crashing over you in waves as he fucked you into the mattress.

“Oh, you like that?” he mocked, lifting your ankles onto his shoulders, pushing even deeper inside you. “You’re more flexible than I thought,” he mused, pounding into you harder, pulling desperate sobs and moans from your lips.

“P-please… please, fu—hck, need mo—hre…!” you mewled, your body trembling beneath him, your walls fluttering around his cock as he maintained his steady, punishing rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Mhm? What was that, sweetheart?” he taunted, slowing his movements to a deep, agonizing pace, making you feel every inch of him dragging along your sensitive walls. “Can’t hear you over all that babbling,” he teased, watching in amusement as you squirmed beneath him, completely at his mercy.

His hand tangled in your hair, holding you close as your body trembled beneath him. His other hand gripped yours tightly, anchoring you to him. “P-please…” you whined, your hips shifting in frustration as he kept his agonizingly slow rhythm.

“Please what, princess? Use your words properly,” he mocked, an innocent-looking smile on his face that sharply contrasted with the way his cock stretched you open, moving at a torturously slow pace.

“Go f-faster… please—ah… fuck!” you moaned, relief flooding your voice as he finally set a faster pace, the sudden intensity stealing your breath.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he taunted, now pounding into you with a pace that left you gasping, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slap of your bodies meeting.

The tension in your core coiled tighter, your body arching as the overwhelming sensation built to its peak. Lips ghosting over your ear, he nipped teasingly before soothing it with a teasing lick, trailing down to capture your lips in a deep, consuming kiss—swallowing your moans as pleasure overtook you. Then, with a cry muffled against his lips, the knot snapped. A wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your release spilling over him as he groaned, his grip tightening. His own climax followed, hot and deep inside you, filling you to the brim as he muttered your name against your lips.

“That’s it…” he breathed, thrusting through his orgasm, fucking his cum deeper into you. But he didn’t stop. His hips kept moving, his cock still hard inside you.

“W-wait, no—sensitive..! S-stop..!” you whined, your nails digging into the sheets as he pushed your overstimulated body further, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from you.

“You can take it,” he muttered, his fingers finding your nipples, pinching and rolling them as his lips trailed more bruising kisses along your skin.

You were an incoherent mess beneath him, body trembling, overstimulated yet craving more. He was insatiable—burying himself deep inside you over and over again, filling you up for the second time, then another just minutes later. His cum mixed with yours, leaking from your swollen cunt and pooling onto the sheets below. The obscene squelching of your joined bodies echoed through the dimly lit room, each thrust sending another wave of pleasure coursing through you.

“Fuck, you’re so full, aren’t you, princess?” he groaned, feeling the way your walls clenched around him, refusing to let go. “Your pretty cunt ‘ts sucking me in so tight.” His thumb flicked over your swollen clit, making you jerk beneath him.

“Haa… Sun—ooh! Fuck! Please, s’too much…!” you whined, but the way your body responded to him betrayed your words.

“Oh shush, we both know you want this,” Sunoo teased, slowing his movements before suddenly pulling out, leaving you empty and aching. A needy whimper escaped your lips at the loss, making him chuckle in amusement.

He watched in fascination as his cum dripped from your swollen core, your body still trembling. Your breath was uneven as you tried to process everything, only for Sunoo to grip your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You didn’t think that was the end of it, did you?” he asked, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. Before you could answer, he plunged back inside with a single thrust, groaning at the way you clenched around him.

“S-Sunoo!” you yelped, body hypersensitive yet craving more.

His lips brushed against your ear, voice dark and teasing. “Your tight little cunt is practically begging for me—don’t lie. A cumslut like you can’t wait to be filled up again, am I right?” His hand drifted down, pressing against the bulge in your stomach, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“So be a good girl and take it.” His voice was a low murmur against your skin, each word dripping with intent. He thrust deeper, hitting a spot that sent a sharp wave of pleasure through your body, making your breath hitch.

His pace was brutal, his fingers laced with yours as his mouth claimed you once more, tongue exploring every inch. You could only shake and whimper helplessly, eyes rolling back of your head, lost in the pleasure as he used you, filling you over and over again—until the only thing you could feel, think, and breathe was him.

By the time the night faded into dawn, you were spent, utterly consumed by him. And as reality set in, one thing was certain—you’d be making a stop for those morning-after pills.

author’s note still trying to get used to writing sunoo and i’m quite happy w how this came out >< lmk if i need to add anything to warnings i edited this while half asleep ngl LOL

taglist @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma

[loverangels]

taste

pairings: percy jackson x fem!reader

synopsis: percy really likes the taste of strawberries directly from your lips

strawberry divider by @bernardsbendystraws

The orchard was warm and lively, rows of fruit trees stretching endlessly under the summer sun. You stood on your tiptoes, reaching for the ripest strawberry you could find, your fingers brushing the leaves. Percy, of course, wasn’t far behind—holding the basket in one hand and stuffing berries into his mouth with the other.

“Percy,” you scolded, glancing back at him. “You’re supposed to collect the fruit, not eat it all before we even sit down.”

He gave you an innocent shrug, his sea-green eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just… quality-checking. What if they’re bad? Wouldn’t want my girlfriend to eat a bad strawberry, now would I?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your grin as he followed you to the next row, stealing another berry on the way. Eventually, with the basket half-filled (thanks to you) and Percy’s hands stained red from sneaking more than his fair share, you found a shaded spot under a tree to sit and enjoy the fruits of your labor.

Plopping down on the blanket, you picked a glossy red strawberry from the basket and held it up to the sunlight, admiring its perfect shape before taking a slow, deliberate bite. Juice ran down your thumb, and you made a show of licking it off, casting Percy a sly look out of the corner of your eye.

He froze mid-grab for another berry, his eyebrows shooting up as a lopsided grin spread across his face. “Are you doing that on purpose?” he asked, tilting his head at you.

“Doing what?” you replied innocently, biting into the rest of the strawberry with a soft hum of approval.

His grin widened. “Oh, I see how it is.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “You’re trying to drive me insane, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, picking up a grape this time, holding it between your teeth before slowly nibbling it in half. Percy groaned, tossing his head back dramatically. “You’re evil.”

“Maybe,” you said, picking another strawberry. You held it out to him this time, the bright red fruit perched between your fingers. “Want a taste?”

Percy’s eyes flicked to the strawberry, then back to you. His grin turned downright wicked as he leaned in, but instead of taking the fruit, his lips brushed yours instead—soft at first, then deeper, tasting the sweetness of the strawberry still lingering on your lips.

“Percy!” you gasped, pulling back in surprise, though the way his sea-green eyes sparkled made it hard to sound mad.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence as he leaned closer again, his hand brushing yours to pluck the strawberry from your grasp. “I did want a taste. Just figured I’d get the best of both worlds.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as he popped the fruit into his mouth, still grinning as if he hadn’t just completely stolen your breath.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, reaching for another piece of fruit, but Percy was already leaning in again, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth as his hand rested casually on your knee.

“Sharing is caring, babe,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Don’t hog all the sweetness.”

You tried to glare at him, but the way he was looking at you—with that perfect mix of mischief and adoration—made it impossible to stay mad. So instead, you grabbed another strawberry, took a bite, and smirked.

“Fine,” you said, leaning in just close enough to let your breath tickle his lips. “But if you want more, you’re going to have to work for it.”

Percy’s grin grew impossibly wider as he closed the gap between you again, clearly up for the challenge.