#he approves of the mischief

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

So Sam said in an interview that the perfect boring ending for Karlach would be owning a tavern and that lives in my head rent free.

Every now and again Mol tries to convince Karlach that she's tooootally big and cool enough to drink the strong adult stuff already. Regulars are making bets on how long it takes Mama K to cave.

[hanzajesthanza]

the “well you see i said that precisely to piss you the fuck off” duo 👍

[junietuesday]

see i SAY “oh hes just like me fr” abt fictional characters but thats more like i share one or Maybe two particular neuroses w that character and i extrapolate a bunch of my other emotional issues onto them as well building off that one shared trait. but w gale of waterdeep dekarios hes like ACTUALLY like me for real. his entire self worth has been built on his academic/intellectual ability and so he hypes up that skill in himself and jumps to prove his talent at every opportunity bc hes only worthy of love if hes Good at being smart and Useful for his brain, if hes not a genius then whats the point of his existence. he has a massive ego bc he does know he is actually really good at this one thing and part of it really just is arrogance, but at the same time, that need to be better than everyone else also stems from the fact that he struggles to connect w his peers, so if he doesnt know how to form real relationships, it doesnt matter anyway bc hes Above them, better that they dislike him for his best trait than avoid him bc theres just something different and wrong abt him. hes so starved for love that he threw himself at the feet of the goddess who acknowledged his skill and went above and beyond just to get a sliver of acknowledgement from her, and when she cast him aside for his big expression of devotion, he locked himself away in his tower for a whole year and was just going to lie down and let himself blow up. unless the player pushes him out of it he’d still die for her, and for the world, he’d kill himself if it meant being useful to and accepted by someone, anyone. even if it was the last thing he did.

[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

[satoruan]

𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 — 𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒚!𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖

being in a secret relationship with Satoru & Suguru in a prestigious boarding school had its challenges.

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺. f!reader. raw dogging. MMF. public sex. voyeurism. established poly relationship. everyone is in their early 20’s EXPLICIT CONTENT

𝑨/𝑵. short n sweet. this is one of my top scenarios to daydream about before bed so ofc I had to insert my favs into it 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

You hadn't seen Satoru in what felt like forever, so when you passed each other in the hallway, it was no surprise that he didn't waste a second pulling you into the nearest bathroom. His hand gripped your waist firmly, the other pressing against your stomach to guide you. His lips found your uniform-clad shoulder almost immediately, planting hungry, scattered kisses that sent heat racing through your body.

“Missed you s’much baby, swear I can’t live without you.” He whispered between kisses, his hard cock pressing against your ass.

You barely had time to catch your breath before you he was lifting you on the cold marble top counter.

The nervousness of getting caught faded as he pushed into you, his lengthy cock filling you in a way only he ever could. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer as your legs locked around his hips, his slacks shoved down just enough to free himself.

You bit down on his shoulder to muffle the moans spilling from your lips, his name a breathless chant as his thrusts deepened.

His scent wrapped around you like a drug— woodsy musk with a hint of sweet, fruity warmth-and your head fell back, eyes rolling as pleasure overwhelmed you. His hands tightened on your hips, grounding you, owning you.

"Satoru," you gasped, clawing at his suit jacket as your body shuddered under his relentless rhythm. He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear as he murmured sweet nothings, voice low and husky, sending shivers straight through you.

But then you felt another body press against Satoru's back, followed by the softest kiss placed on your forehead.

"You look so fuckin’ gorgeous—both of you,"

Suguru's deep voice rumbled from behind, his hips grinding into Satoru, drawing a moan from both of you.

"Is 'Toru making you feel good, baby?" Suguru asked, his words laced with amusement as he watched you, wide-eyed and desperate.

You nodded frantically, reaching for him despite Satoru’s thrusts. Your fingers found his face, tugging weakly, silently pleading for him even as Satoru's thrusts grew rougher, stealing what little focus you had left.

"Sugu..." you whimpered, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming mix of pleasure and frustration. Outside of sex, Suguru was quick to give you whatever you wanted, they both did.

"You want a kiss, huh, baby?" he teased, his dark eyes burning with mischief.

A whimper escaped you as you buried your pouty face in Satoru's neck, your body trembling with need.

"Oh, don't be like that," Suguru said, his tone softer now. He grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look up at him. His gaze pins you in place, and you feel like you might come just looking into his intense eyes.

"C'mere my little crybaby," he whispered, his grin softening. His lips crashed down on yours, unyielding and raw.

The kiss stole the breath from your lungs, his hand tightening on your neck to keep you in place. All the heat and electricity between the three of you surged through that moment, leaving you in a

When he finally pulled away, you barely had time to process before he shifted his attention, planting messy kisses along Satoru's shoulder.

"Ugh—Fuck yes." Satoru groaned, his head falling back onto Suguru's chest as his pace grew erratic.

"Mmm" Suguru murmured, his voice low and throaty. "Do me a favor and make our little princess come before you give her that pretty pussy your cum."

Satoru nodded, turning his head to Suguru as if seeking approval, but Suguru was already pulling back. Both of you whined in protest at the loss of his warmth.

"I'm gonna guard the door," Suguru said with a smirk, adjusting his suit as he moved toward the exit. "Don't need the principal finding us again. Have fun, but not too much without me. Oh and I’m next ‘Toru baby.”

And then he was gone, leaving you trembling and gasping under Satoru, who wasn't about to let up anytime soon.

[97kuu]

ONLY ON CAMERA

Part 2 here

summary; Jungkook and you keep your sexual relationship a secret—until his friends from the 97 line start betting on who can win you over first. Feeling jealous, he pulls you into a private room at the next awards show, claiming you as his. As he sends a video to the group chat, he makes it clear that you belong to him.

Au; fwb! Secrete rleationship au! ! Jungkookidolau! Readerpopularidolau!

wc 2k

warnings; slight plot, fwb, creamp^e, Riding, dirtyt^lk, descriptive s^x, mi^^ionary, lotus, recording, dub-con, time skips, a bet is placed, public S^x, rushed s^x, facial, q^ickie, clothed s^x, mentions of sweat. Slight manipulation on Jks part,

Edited

In the lotus position on the bed, Jungkook leans forward, drawing you even closer as he wraps his arms securely around your waist. Your chest is at the perfect level, allowing him to lower his head slightly and take a nipple into his mouth. His lips move with a mix of tenderness and intensity, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours, watching as you ride his cock in utter pleasure.

Your hands find their place on his shoulders, head falling slowly back as he grips your waist and you moan in ecstasy. Jungkook had what was no doubt the best cock you've had being in this industry and therefore had no difficulty changing plans and meeting at night at his or a random rental car for the hour. He was girthy, he had a good length that wasn't small nor too long. He curved slightly so that when you moved onto your knees and pushed him slightly back to lay down, you could ride him and he would automatically tease your G-spot with ease.

Crossing his arms behind his head, he watched as placed your hands on his chest. Applying pressure as you rocked your hips back and forth creating short waves of movement against him.Biting softly on his pierced bottom lip, Jungkook’s dark eyes locked with yours, a hint of mischief in his gaze. Slowly, he lowered his hands from behind his head, bringing them to rest on your hips. His fingers gripped you firmly yet tenderly, guiding your movements with practiced ease. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver up your spine as he leaned in slightly, his breath mixing with yours.

“You have no idea how amazing you look right now,” he breathes out, voice laced with desire. Listening to those words and that deep groan of his as your hips crashed down, followed by the arch of your back was utterly heaven to him.

“I could watch you like this forever,” he groans, barely holding back. His words sent a rush through you, making your body respond instinctively as you quickened your pace, completely overtaken by his voice. “That’s it, keep going—you’re taking me so well,” he encouraged his tone deep and approving, fueling your movements even more.

His grip tightness, he holds helps grind down on him harder as his precum spews inside of you without knowing. He sat up abruptly, tilting his head back in pleasure as you wrapped your arms tightly around his back. The light sensation of your touch sent him over the edge, and he released himself with deep, resonant groans, eyes squeezed shut as the feeling consumed him.

“Mmm, make yourself come on me, baby. I want to feel you using it as lube,” he instructed, panting as he moved to wrap his arms around your back, guiding your movements on his still-hardened length.

One thing you always noticed was that despite his high-trained stamina allowing him to go for endless rounds when he was on top, the moment you took control, it was as if his body couldn’t handle the intensity of the pleasure. It made him release quickly yet remain at his peak, ready for more. When you asked him why, he’d simply say, “That’s how attracted I am to you. You make me want to go for round after round.”

He lusted deeply after you, both when you were with him and when he could release the pent-up sexual frustration you sparked. It was the result of teasing voice messages where you’d moan his name and beg him to make you feel good. Even when alone, he found himself watching fan-made videos of your chest moving or replaying secret moments from nights spent in public places where you tried to stay silent as he thrust into you.

You were the idol that many men craved, even some of his friends, which made him both possessive and proud. The mutual desire between you quickly escalated from casual encounters to a full-fledged friends-with-benefits situation. It was a fitting label, though it never extended beyond the walls of the rooms or buildings where you met. The secrecy only heightened the thrill, making every moment that much more intoxicating.

Riding him in his apartment felt even more thrilling knowing that there were people who could potentially see or hear the sounds of his moans and the way your body surrendered to the pleasure he gave you.

The thought of being risky, even in the most mundane places, made you drip down his length, coating him as your core burned with the need for release. Your brows knitted together, eyes glazing over with pleasure as you bounced harder, driven by the rhythm of your racing heartbeat.

You couldn’t stop, couldn’t keep your gaze on him, and he loved that—wanted it, craved to see you unravel under his dark, intense stare. It was the same lowered gaze he had when he was serious or angry, and it always drove you to the edge, pushing you into a blissful orgasm. Your body moved on its own, continuing until it was completely satisfied with him buried deep inside, lost in a zone of euphoria.

As the rhythmic convulsions of your core squeezed and released around him, Jungkook groaned and hissed from the mix of pleasure and a touch of pain as you tightened around him. Watching you come undone on top of him, hips moving in slow, languid circles, drove him wild. His hands found your nipples, rubbing them in circles, knowing it would send waves of pleasure shooting down your body as he watched you consumed in ecstasy.

“Keep it up, baby. Your body feels too good, and I’m gonna use you how I want, making you cum until you can’t take it anymore,” he grunted, gripping your back and shifting you beneath him as he moved into missionary.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, he let out a growl of frustration and desire before you spread your legs wider for him, fully exposed and ready. He thrusts into you with an urgent need, pounding into you while you are still in the throes of that blissed-out, high state. The feeling was overwhelming, intense, like a rush that made the world spin, but it wasn’t anything other than him—just Jungkook, taking you deeper into that intoxicating pleasure.

As he thrusts, his voice low and steady says “That’s it, just like that… you’re so good for me.”The thrusts were deep but slow, each movement deliberate and controlled. He pushed inside with a steady force, every inch filling you, but it was the rhythm that drove the sensation. He’d pull back, almost completely, only to slide back in, slow and full, making sure each thrust hit the deepest part of you. The pace was measured, heavy, and purposeful, allowing the intense sensation to build gradually. His body moved with almost agonizing slowness, savoring each moment before he filled your cunt with warm oozing cum.

Pulling out, he placed a kiss on your chest and reached for the rag he placed prior to the bed to clean you up a bit, before helping escort you to take a shower with him. After all, you both were still close and were still a gentleman at heart.

A week later, jungkook was Jungkook sat at the bar, his hand wrapped around a cold bottle of Kloud, the rich, dark beer perfectly complementing the night’s relaxed yet lively atmosphere. He and some of his friends decided to get drinks in the middle of the night a few days before award season would begin in less than a few days.

Slightly stressed, but enjoying the night with a few people at a table he admitted the amber hue of the liquid glistening under the soft overhead lights as he tipped the bottle back, taking a long, deliberate sip. The slightly bitter, malty flavor settled on his tongue as he leaned casually against the counter, his eyes flicking between the conversations of his friends beside him.

The faint hum of music and low chatter filled the space, but he remained calm and composed, occasionally smirking at a joke or nodding in agreement. The way he held the beer, with confidence and ease, mirrored his grounded energy, even as the night buzzed around them.

“maybe somewhere towards the back” a familar voice, came closer.

Jungkook was mid-conversation, his voice steady and composed, when he suddenly heard it—the distinct tone of your voice cutting through the ambient noise of the bar. It was unmistakable, a sound that made his chest tighten and his face heat up. His reaction was immediate, a subtle flush creeping up his neck, but thankfully, the lively chatter around him gave him the perfect excuse to play it off.

He tilted his head slightly, pretending to adjust his seat, but his ears stayed tuned to you. And then it happened—your eyes locked with his. In that split second, it was like the world around him dulled, the electricity of your gaze grounding him and making his pulse race. His breath hitched, and he quickly glanced away, masking the flush creeping up his neck with a casual smirk and a deliberate sip of his beer. His grip on the bottle, however, betrayed him, tightening as if anchoring himself.

Leaning back in his chair, he took another measured sip, forcing his expression to remain neutral. His heart thudded against his ribs, but he played it off effortlessly, as though he hadn’t just felt the room tilt. To anyone watching, he seemed completely composed, but inside, the tension lingered—your presence pulling at him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. After all nobody, not even the clolsesf of people here knew you hooked up once in a while or frequintly and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to keep it a secrete.

Playing it off he Tilted his drink slightly in your direction, Jungkook made a subtle point point with the bottom of his beer mug toward your table. “There,” he said under his breath, low enough that only his closest friend could catch it. It was an understated motion, almost unnoticeable, but the seriousness in his tone had his friends following his lead, their glances fleeting compared to the way his lingered. Still, Jungkook turned back quickly, focusing on his beer as if the moment hadn’t unraveled him entirely.

“Isn’t that good timing, don’t you think? Maybe she sensed good-looking guys were here and dragged a few friends along,” one of the 97-liners said, his eyes lazily trailing over your figure. “She’s got that type of body that makes you stop and stare—dangerous curves.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook replied, his tone cool but clipped as he sipped his beer. He didn’t even look their way, trying to keep his reaction locked down. “Then again, didn’t we only come here because someone said it was safer than most places?”

“You’re telling me you didn’t notice those legs when she walked in?” another chimed in, leaning forward with a wolfish grin. His eyes lingered shamelessly on your body, tracing every curve as if undressing you with his gaze. “She’s putting on a show with those hips, man. I swear, the way that dress clings to her? It’s like she wants us to imagine what’s underneath. Bet it’s a fucking masterpiece.”

He leaned back, biting his lip as his gaze dipped lower, voice thick with hunger. “Everything about her screams trouble—the good kind. Those thighs, that ass… fuck, I’d let her ruin me and thank her for it.”

Jungkook’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles whitening as he kept his face carefully neutral. “You could try,” he said smoothly, setting his drink down with a subtle but audible thud, “but do you even know how many confessions she’s probably gotten? Are we even talking about the same girl here?”

“Well then,” the first guy interjected with a sly smile, “how about we make it a challenge? Bet and put respect on the man’s name who can get her in bed first. Before the end of the next award show. I’ll put 3 mil on it.” His smirk widened as he added, “She looks like the type to put up a fight, but I wouldn’t mind breaking her in.”

The crude remark made Jungkook’s jaw clench. He leaned back in his chair, masking his rising anger. “20 mil,” he said flatly, his voice a low challenge that silenced the table. His eyes flicked to the speaker, daring him to take it further.

“Oh, 20 mil?” one of them scoffed, leaning back with an amused look. “You sure you’re not overestimating yourself here, man? She doesn’t seem like the type to just give it up so easily.”

He glanced over at you again, eyes lingering on the way your dress barely clung to your body, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “But I get it… she’s got that innocent look, like she’s just waiting to be taken. You know, the kind of girl who might act all shy at first, but when she’s alone with you? She’s a fucking firestorm.”

He leaned in closer, voice dropping lower. “She’s probably the type who’ll beg for it—wanting you to take control, needing it like air. She wouldn’t last long, though. I bet once you’ve got her where you want her, she’ll ride you till she can’t move, totally at your mercy, just how you like it.”

He chuckled, watching Jungkook carefully. “But hey, I could be wrong… maybe you can’t pull that off. In which case, I’ll be happy to take my winnings and her home myself.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smirk, but inside, his blood was boiling. The idea of them imagining your body, let alone thinking they had a chance with you, made his possessiveness surge. They didn’t know the things he did—how your body reacted to his touch, the sounds you made when he pushed you past your limits, the way you looked at him when you fell apart.

But he didn’t speak, just took another long sip of his drink, letting their words wash over him as he planned his exit. Their laughter rang in his ears, but his thoughts were consumed by one simple truth: They can talk all they want, but she’s already mine.

M.list. This was a requested plot

[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 you’ve taken. 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?

His velvety voice glides through the air from behind you, weaving an almost tangible warmth that sends a cascade of shivers across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps to rise and dance over your arms.

Startled by his unexpected presence, you snap around to face him, your eyes widening in alarm. For a moment, the rush of surprise leaves you breathless, but gradually, your nerves settle as you regain your composure.

“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 relentless glare over the padel court. The air is thick and stifling, a heavy blanket of heat that 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 in steady streams 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 with the ambient noise around. As he takes a refreshing swig, 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. The brief exchange of glances between them hints at the shared interest in the content of the messages, adding a subtle layer of intrigue to the moment.

“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, a gleam of 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, underscoring the depth of shock and frustration he was feeling inside.

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: ‘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 inconceivable to him. The notion that you, someone so significant to him, had been with someone else—especially Lando—was a stark violation of the sense of ownership and connection he felt. 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 infused with a fierce, almost volatile 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. The usual fluidity of his play was replaced by a rigid, almost angry precision, as if he were venting his frustration through every powerful stroke. Each volley and smash seemed to resonate with his internal conflict, the intensity of the game mirroring the brewing annoyance 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 midst of pulling dinner out of the oven—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 punctuated the otherwise peaceful atmosphere, 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 aromas of rosemary and garlic filled the apartment, their savory scents weaving through the air. Charles inhaled deeply, unable to suppress a soft, appreciative groan at the smell. 

You carefully set the dish atop the oven, the comforting warmth of the meal still radiating from it. With a swift nudge of your hip, you close the oven door, the familiar click of the latch echoing softly. 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 silent moments 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.”

[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."

[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

[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.

[imloyaltoscoups]

Spit | Choi Seungcheol | MDNI

Yo~ based on the title, yes it does involved spit. So you can scroll down if it's not your cup of tea. This is not that hardcore though just a brief.

Seungcheol had you pinned against the couch, his lips moving passionately against yours. His kisses were demanding as ever, leaving you breathless as his hands roamed your body. His tongue teased you, sliding against yours in a way that made your knees weak, even though you were already lying down. He pulled back slightly, his lips glistening and his breath uneven. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and a smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. “Open your mouth,” he commanded softly, his tone low and laced with a hint of mischief.

You hesitated for a moment, confused but compelled by the intensity in his gaze. Slowly, you parted your lips, and before you could ask why, he leaned closer and let a trail of spit fall onto your tongue. Your eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t break eye contact, watching your every reaction. “Swallow it,” he said, his voice firm but teasing. “Go on.” You blinked, your cheeks burning as you obeyed, swallowing without a word. He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone dripping with approval. “See? That wasn’t so bad.” “What the fuck is that, Cheol?” you finally managed to say, your voice a mix of embarrassment and confusion. You pushed lightly against his chest, but he didn’t budge, his smirk only deepening. “I’m just preparing you,” he said nonchalantly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You keep dodging when I bring it up, so I figured we’d ease into it.” “Preparing me for what?” you asked, though the blush creeping up your neck suggested you already knew. His lips brushed against your ear, and his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “For when you finally say yes to sucking my cock.” “Was that really necessary?” you murmured, your lips brushing against his as you began to kissed him “We’re literally making out. Isn’t tasting each other’s saliva enough for you?” Cheol laughed softly, his hands resting on your hips to keep you close. “It’s different,” he argued, as he peck your lips. “When we’re kissing, it’s shared. But this? This is me taking control, baby." Rolling your eyes, you countered, “I’ve already tasted your cum when I gave you a hand job. What’s the difference?” He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “The difference is, baby, you were licking it off your hand, you’re not directly tasting me. What I did earlier? That’s me giving it to you, straight from the source." You pulled back slightly, giving him a skeptical look. “You know, I realized that I will never win these kind of arguments with you.” Cheol chuckled, his hand cupping your cheek. “Exactly. So why don’t you just say yes and make both our lives easier?” You snorted, shaking your head. “Not happening.” His laughter filled the room, and he kissed you deeply once more, muttering against your lips, “One day, baby. One day.”

....... ≿━━━━━༺MASTERLIST༻━━━━━≾ .......

[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.

[isaadore]

US THREE QUINN HUGHES

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing dad!quinn hughes x mom!reader

SUMMARY little snippets of your life with quinn before and after the birth of your son. word count 1.2k

warnings fem!reader, tooth-rotting fluff

notes i haven’t written anything in sooo long, so i’m a little rusty 😓 i apologize if this isn’t the best and a little cheesy. i just got a few ideas while watching titans (i’m in love with dick grayson)

QH43 MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

PAINTING THE NURSERY

It was one of those perfect autumn afternoons, the kind where the air felt crisp and colourful leaves danced in the wind. Quinn set the last can of soft pastel yellow paint down on the nursery floor, and as the warm light streamed through the window, the walls seemed to glow. You were perched on a step stool, carefully taping the edges of the room, your growing belly just brushing the ladder as you shifted. Quinn was nearby, his brows furrowed, hovering slightly with one hand stretched out, ready to catch you if you even thought about wobbling.

“You know I’ve got this, right?” you teased, turning to shoot him a playful smirk.

“I know,” he replied, his own grin creeping onto his face, “but just... humour me, okay? I can't help it—I'm not taking any chances.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, hopping down to grab the paintbrush he held out to you. “All right, Mr. Safety First. Let's see if you’re as good with a paintbrush as you are with a hockey stick.”

“Better,” he shot back, popping open the paint can with a satisfying snap. 

As you worked together, it felt like more than just painting. You shared giggles and tossed around baby names, and then, in a moment of mischief, you smeared a little paint right on his nose. He retaliated with a playful swipe of yellow across your cheek, his boyish grin impossibly wide when you squealed in surprise. By the time the walls were mostly covered, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your heart felt so full it was almost overwhelming.

Quinn took a step back to admire the work, his hand resting gently on your back. “I think he’s going to love it,” he murmured.

“I think so too,” you replied softly, leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling all the warmth between you both.

PROUD DAD-TO-BE

The first time Quinn brought you and your soon-to-be son into a post-game interview was completely unexpected. The Canucks had just pulled off an overtime win, and Quinn was still filled with adrenaline as he stood by the microphone.

“Quinn, how does it feel to lead your team to a win like that?” a reporter asked, clearly eager for a soundbite.

He flashed a big grin, running a hand through his damp hair, still buzzing from the game. “It feels amazing. Honestly, though, it’s not just about me. My wife’s at home, seven months pregnant and absolutely crushing it. Every time I’m on the ice, I’m thinking about them. I want to make my son proud before he’s even here.”

The room filled with soft laughter and nods of approval. Quinn’s eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and excitement, and back home, you were curled up on the couch with tears in your eyes, feeling every word. He had this incredible way of melting your heart, always reminding you of the beautiful life you were building together.

CRAVINGS AND CHICKEN PARM

A few days later, you found yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, scrolling through recipes on your phone. Pregnancy cravings had hit you hard, and that night, all you could think about was chicken parmesan.

Quinn strolled in, wearing sweatpants and a simple t-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. He leaned over your shoulder to peek at the screen, flashing a grin. “Alright, what’s on the menu tonight?” he asked.

“Chicken parm,” you said, setting your phone down with a smile. “And extra cheese, of course.”

“Even better,” he replied, already heading toward the fridge.

Quinn wasn’t exactly a culinary master, but he’d taken it upon himself to whip up whatever you were craving. Watching him in the kitchen was one of your favourite pastimes. He would hum under his breath, occasionally glancing back to check in on you. That night, as he dipped the chicken into the breadcrumb mixture, he paused, a thoughtful look on his face.

“You know,” he said, looking up with a smirk, “if our kid ends up loving hockey as much as chicken parm, we might be in for some late-night games and a lot of takeout.”

You laughed, shaking your head at the thought. “He’s going to have your work ethic and your heart, so I think we’ll manage just fine.”

Quinn’s ears turned a light shade of pink at the compliment, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he got back to layering the mozzarella and marinara with a focus that made you smile. When he finally set the plate in front of you, there was a look of triumph on his face.

As you took that first bite, Quinn settled in beside you, his hand instinctively resting on your belly. Just then, the baby kicked, and both of you froze before bursting into joyful smiles.

“Looks like he approves,” Quinn said softly, his thumb brushing gently against your skin through your shirt. 

“He definitely has good taste,” you replied, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

LULLABIES

It was well past midnight when Quinn heard the soft sound of you humming from the nursery. He had just wrapped up reviewing game footage in his office, but the gentle melody drew him out. Quietly, he padded down the hall and leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of you swaying in the rocking chair.

At first, you were lost in your own world, your hands resting on your belly as you sang a lullaby barely above a whisper. The dim glow of the nightlight cast a warm, golden light around the room, and at that moment, Quinn thought you’d never look more beautiful.

“Can’t sleep?” he murmured, stepping inside and breaking the stillness.

You looked up, a smile brightening your face. “Just practicing for when he gets here. Thought I’d get a head start on lullabies.”

Quinn knelt beside the chair, his chin resting on the armrest as he gazed up at you. “You’re going to be an amazing mom,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s so lucky to have you.”

You reached out, your fingers gently stroking his dark hair. “And he’s got the best dad in the world. We make a good team, don’t we?”

“The best,” he replied, leaning in to place a tender kiss on your belly. “Hey, buddy, you’re going to love it here. I promise.”

FIRSTS

On the morning of Quinn’s first game, after the baby was born, the house was buzzing with energy. You darted around the living room, stuffing essentials into the diaper bag while Quinn wrestled with the car seat straps, frustration written all over his face.

“This thing is impossible,” he grumbled, tugging at the straps.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”

With a little teamwork, you managed to get the seat secured, and Quinn let out an exasperated cheer. “We did it! All right, now we’re all set!”

As you carefully strapped your son into the seat, Quinn knelt down, his face breaking into a wide grin as he gazed at the baby. “Okay, little man. It’s game day! No pressure, but we’ve got a streak to uphold.”

You gave him an amused roll of your eyes. “Don’t listen to him. Just focus on being adorable.”

Quinn leaned over and planted a kiss on your cheek, his excitement radiating as he headed toward the door. “Best cheer squad ever!” he called back, his voice full of warmth.

When you got to the rink, the atmosphere was electric. Quinn scored a goal and immediately turned to look at you in the stands, where you sat cradling your son. The pride lighting up his eyes was everything, and in that moment, everything felt just right.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ QH43 MASTERLIST ✷ MAIN MASTERLIST

[b0ng05]

Hi(gh) Milf! Wanda Maximoff x stoner! reader Pt. 2

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Word Count: 2660

Prompt: Billy and Tommy are coming home from college for winter break, Wanda couldn't be happier. Until they show up with her least favorite guest. Enemies to lovers type of vibe 🥴

Warning: Age gap, smoking

Also, Not Proofread 💅

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

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Y/n makes her way downstairs, the railing decorated in tinsel and ribbons. Finding the boys already down there, Tommy sat on the counter, cookie in his hand. Billy was sitting on an island stool, already working on icing a snowman. They were chatting about some youtube drama about some skincare lady. Wanda was searching the pantry for more sprinkles to use for decor on the cookies. “Y/n, 10 bucks says you can’t eat 10 cookies,” Tommy muses, playfully challenging the woman. Billy rolls his eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. He was more than used to the pairs’ antics. “Ohoho, a dollar a cookie.” Y/n hums for a second, “You got yourself a deal.” Y/n playfully shakes Tommy’s hand. Making a beeline for the cookies beside him, rows of gingerbreads and sugar cookies galore. They were all a pretty golden shade, glimmering with enticement and a sense of holiday cheer. “Hey-! We are not eating 10 cookies in one day, you’re gonna get sick,” Wanda scolds despite the amused smirk on her lips. She shakes her head, placing the sprinkles and more icing on the counter. She gently places her hand on Y/n’s lower back, guiding her to the island stool so she wouldn’t be tempted to eat whatever was in her range.

“Please, I’ve seen her down a whole box of chips ahoy in an hour, She’d live.” Billy snorts, grabbing a new cookie to begin icing, being very precise and careful with his patterns. Tommy’s eyes glimmer with a sense of mischief, leaning over and playfully pushing Billy’s shoulder to get him to mess up. “Tommy-” Billy huffs, shoving Tommy back. The boys have a back and forth of shoves, knocking over a bottle of sprinkles in the process. “Boys,” Wanda tilts her head, instantly ending the fight. A chorus of sorries from the boys before they turn back to the cookies. Wanda hums in approval, turning on some music as background noise. When she looks up, the boys are laughing over something on Tommy’s phone. Her eyes fall over to Y/n, a soft smile gracing her lips. Feeling a sense of amusement at the concentrated look on the younger woman’s face as she frosted a snowman shaped cookie. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips pursed. Wanda’s mind flickered, what would her lips feel like, would they be as soft as they looked or maybe a little chapped from the wea- Wanda stopped herself from the line of thoughts, mentally scolding herself for thinking of her like that. This was her kid’s best friend, she had to keep reminding herself.

“Mom, are you alright?” Billy asks, looking up and catching the woman staring off in thought. A hint of concern in his eyes as she turned a tad pink. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright, just thinkin’ about something.” Wanda reassures, making her way to the open chair beside Y/n to start frosting her own cookies. Her thigh brushing Y/n’s, sending goosebumps along her skin. She couldn’t help but flush a little at the contact. “Y/n, you up for Mario Kart tomorrow? Still gotta prove I can beat you on Rainbow Road.” Tommy muses, looking over at her. She looks up from her cookie, the snowman looking a little deformed, like Frosty when the sun has been hitting him for 30 minutes. “I’m down,” She nods, “But you’re not gonna beat me, 3 time champ you’re talkin’ to.” Y/n smirks playfully, jokingly acting smug. The act makes Wanda roll her eyes in amusement, a grin gracing her lips. “Y’know what, I think you two should let me in on this, I used to be a pro.” Wanda hums, joining the banter.

“Oh yeah? Bet you 10 cookies I’ll beat you.” Y/n muses, her eyes falling on Wanda. Feeling her gaze soften at the sight of the woman’s smile. It gave off a warmth that lured Y/n in, making her heart race and thump in her chest. “Deal.” Wanda smirks, offering her hand to shake on it. The younger woman’s calloused hand meets hers, sending an almost electric feeling through her. The rest of the cookie decorating session goes on with more playful banter, and a ton of strange but goofy looking cookies. Soon, the night takes its toll, and everyone heads upstairs to get ready for bed.

Y/n was changing in the guest room, putting on a pair of fuzzy pajama pants and throwing off her shirt, leaving her in a sports bra. Having found that sleeping with a shirt on often made her overheat. She walks over to the bathroom, forgetting to knock before opening the door. She’s met with the domestic sight of Wanda leaning over the sink counter, applying some face mask. Her green eyes flicking in the reflection of the mirror as the door opens, finding Y/n, shirtless. Wanda’s cheeks flush red at the sight, glad that the color of the mask hid her blush. “Sorry! I forgot to knock-” Y/n apologies, turning red in embarrassment. Wanda shakes her head, “No, it’s alright, honey. I’ll be finished up in a minute.” Wanda gives a reassuring smile despite her own nerves. She quickly washes her face clear, drying it with a towel before exiting the bathroom to her room and shutting the door behind her to give the younger woman privacy. But as she climbs beneath the duvet on her bed, her mind replays the image of Y/n shirtless. Her cheeks flushing again at the thought and her stomach fluttering with butterflies. Finding herself even flustered at the thought of the younger woman. It was becoming more apparent to her that this new forming crush wasn’t something she could just shove to the side.

It was near midnight, the sky an abyss of black that blanketed the area. Y/n sat on the hanging bench of the back patio. Snow dusted over the wooden deck, the chill of the air rippling a shiver down the young woman’s spine. She let her joint hang from her lips, the end a cherry shade in the darkness. She tugged her hoodie tighter around herself, pulling the ragged hood over her reddened ears. Her hands pulled at her sleeves, desperately trying to will them over her palms. Her cheeks and nose ached from the chill, but the smoke that filled her lungs was enough to keep her out in the freezing weather. Her eyes gazing up at the sky, searching through the sea of dark slithering clouds to try and seek the clear constellations she had begun to miss in the depressing cold season. Her mind flickered back and forth with thoughts of Wanda. How soft her hand felt in her own, and how it fit so perfectly together with hers. How the woman’s laugh made her flush with joy. But she couldn’t keep thinking like this, Wanda was her friend’s mother. Wanda had been married to a man, it was foolish to assume that Wanda would have an ounce of interest in a younger woman, especially her son’s friend. Y/n shook her head to clear her thoughts, staring back up at the sky as she took a long drag.

Wanda tossed and turned in her bed, unable to find rest. Something didn’t feel right, whether it was her motherly instincts or her intuition, she was unsure what tugged at her to get out of bed. Pulling the warm, welcoming covers off of her, sitting up to slip on her slippers that sat beside her nightstand. She shivered as the chill of the cool air hit her skin, she walked over to her closet and grabbed her fuzzy robe from the coat hook on the back of the door before slipping it on. She quietly walks out of her bedroom, tying the robe around her waist. She quietly creaks open the boys’ bedroom door, checking to see if they were alright. To her comfort, she found both boys asleep, but as she glanced at Tommy, she had to hold back a small laugh, a few christmas cookies on his nightstand and the crumbs of one all over his pillowcase. She shakes her head with a small smile before quietly closing the door behind her. She mentally debated checking in on Y/n, she didn’t want to invade the younger woman’s privacy, but this nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her that something was amiss. She walks back over to her bedroom, chewing her bottom lip in contemplation before turning back and carefully creaking the younger woman’s door open. Her brows furrowed in confusion when she noticed her absence, the feeling in the back of her mind grew stronger. She whisked her way over to the connected bathroom, knocking before opening the door, to reveal an empty room. Worry begins to fill her mind, where did she run off to? Was she safe? Was she with anyone? Was she dressed for the weather? Surely the sweater she arrived in wasn’t suited for such temperatures. Wanda tried to ease her worries, telling herself this wasn’t her business where this woman went. Unable to quell her feelings, she turns down the hall.

Wanda quickly and as soundlessly as possible makes her way downstairs, checking each room before her eyes spot a small patio light that was lit. Relief washes over her as she walks over to the couch, grabbing one of the throw blankets off the back before making her way over to the sliding doors of the patio. She was about to reach for the handle, but couldn’t help to stop and freeze in place. Her eyes gazing at where the young woman sat, the way the soft golden light illuminates her in comparison to the pale blue darkness that loomed over the backyard. Appreciating the way she gazed off at the sky deep in thought, how pretty her lips looked wrapped around that joint and how soft they could potentially feel against her own. Wanda could almost see it in her head, how the younger woman would be so nervous, how her cheeks would burn with the same red they do now, maybe a deeper shade. Her cherishing of the younger woman’s blush was quickly clouded by worries. She tugged the door open, startling Y/n, who turned and pulled the joint from her lips.

Y/n glances at the older woman anxiously, fidgeting with her sleeve with her free hand as the other ashes her joint. The pink in Y/n’s cheeks had grown slightly at the sight of the older woman, her red hair was a little messy, and she was adorned in a cute plaid pair of matching christmas pajamas beneath her maroon robe.

“You said to go outside next time,” Y/n tries to joke, looking a little nervous, as if ready for a lecture. Wanda’s lips pulled in a small smile, quirking a brow at her comment. Shaking her head in amusement, she steps closer. “I did. Thank you for listening,” Wanda hums lowly, walking over to sit beside her. She wraps the blanket around Y/n’s shoulders, she was sure the younger woman tensed up a bit, but she chalked that up to the cold setting in. “But I also said this morning that we don’t want anyone catching a cold. That includes you, honey.” She adds. The reflection of the golden light reflects off the shiny topcoat of Wanda’s crimson nails as she reaches over to rub soft circles on the younger woman’s back, trying to warm her up.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n apologizes, turning away as she blows the smoke from her joint away from Wanda. Wanda’s eyes linger on the way Y/n’s lips purse before wrapping back around the joint. Y/n uses her free arm to lift the blanket over Wanda’s shoulders to share. “Quit apologizing,” Wanda smiles, a pink hue to her cheeks at the sweet gesture. Wanda can’t resist the urge of resting her head against the woman’s shoulder, her nose twitching slightly as she catches a smell of something other than the joint. It was a nice warm scent, comforting, a woodsy aroma that lingered on her hoodie. One that made Wanda nuzzle a little closer. Y/n blushes somehow deeper at the action, her arm wrapping around Wanda’s shoulders for added warmth. It felt comfortable, homely almost. Wanda gets lost in her thoughts for a moment, a mental warfare. Stuck between wanting to lose herself in this warm comfort and give in to the feelings that she tried to bury. Wanda’s brought out of her thoughts by a soft voice.

“Can I ask you something?” Y/n pipes up after a moment, a small playful quirk to her lips that Wanda recognized from everytime she saw her and the boys joking about. “Of course,” Wanda hums, looking up at the woman in curiosity and amusement. A small smile gracing her lips. “Have you ever smoked weed before?” Y/n quips, taking another hit off her joint, making sure to blow the smoke away from the other woman. Wanda laughs at the question, shaking her head at the woman’s question. “Who hasn’t?” Wanda muses, unable to hold back her grin when she makes the younger woman laugh. Wanda’s hand clasps over Y/n’s that rests on her shoulder, trying to warm hers.

“Care to smoke with me or am I gonna be banished to the tree house for askin’?” Y/n hums playfully, pulling the joint from her lips to offer to the older woman if she wished to take it. Wanda rolls her eyes in amusement at the younger woman before eyeing the joint.

Debating if she should indulge and humor Y/n. She takes the joint from the younger woman, lifting it to her soft lips, taking a long drag. Y/n’s eyes widen, a little surprised that the older woman actually did it, but also a little turned on by how hot she looked. Her lips pursing as she blows out the smoke, she smirks at the younger woman. “No, sharing is caring,” Wanda muses, her hand lifting the joint to the younger woman’s mouth to let her take a puff. Y/n turns as red as Rudolph’s nose. Wanda’s eyebrows furrow, worrying a bit that the cold might be getting to her, so she lifts her free hand to soft cup her cheek, trying to warm her with her palm.

But to Wanda’s surprise, she already feels warmth emitting from her. She can’t help but grin from catching the woman blushing, she takes another drag off the joint. She bites her bottom lip in thought. Maybe it was the high she was feeling, but she couldn’t help herself, she pulled the younger woman in for a kiss. Y/n tenses, shocked at the action before melting into it. The kiss begins to grow deeper, as Y/n's lips part for Wanda’s tongue, Wanda surprised her by shotgunning the smoke into her mouth. Y/n blows the smoke out as they part. Her hand finding its way to Wanda’s waist to hold her close as she leans in for another kiss. Their lips meet again, Wanda’s hand throws the stub of the joint off into the snow before finding its place in the younger woman’s hair.

They only part when they hear footsteps in the house. Blushing and straightening themselves out in case one of the boys comes out to check on them. But subtly, Wanda’s hand reaches for Y/n’s intertwining their fingers. But to their relief, they heard the footsteps recede. Y/n and Wanda make their way back inside the house, parting ways in the hallway, but there was a mutual knowledge that they’d speak about it later. As they both laid in their respective beds, they fall asleep with stupid smiles on their faces.

[lizzieheartsfanclub]

The most effective thing about Ever After High is that every student has their own personal struggle that adds another element to just how life-ruining the destiny system is.

Apple is so terrified of what will happen to her if she doesn’t follow her destiny, that she is willing to compromise everyone else’s happiness to make sure it happens. This disregard for other people is only encouraged by the influential adults in her life.

Ashlynn has to be a servant to an abusive family and live knowing that the ultimate end to her supposedly happy ending is dying to set the stage for her daughters traumatic backstory, starting the whole cycle over again with no chance for any of them to escape.

Blondie feels so pressured to fit in to a deeply classist/monarchist society and ashamed of her parentage that she constantly presents a fake version of herself to everyone she knows, even her best friends.

Briar has to spend her whole life waiting for the moment her destiny comes and she falls asleep for a century. She knows that when she’s woken up, she will be forced to marry a boy dozens of years younger than her who she’s never met and live knowing that everyone she ever loved is dead and gone, the very things that she watched cause her mother’s emotional breakdown.

Cedar’s father was so afraid of watching her repeat his mistakes that he overcorrected, making it impossible for her to ever learn lessons for herself. She is also forced to share incredibly personal details with anyone who asks her questions, and can’t be trusted by her friends with any of their secrets, and it’s all because of her father’s past trauma.

Cerise has to hide who she truly is and never gets to see her family together and happy despite the fact that her parents have potentially the most healthy and mutually beneficial marriage in the whole franchise.

Daring was groomed from birth for a destiny that ends up not actually being his at all, leaving him aimless, feeling as though he has no purpose and has wasted his entire life.

Darling is forbidden by patriarchy and destiny to become a knight, the only thing she really wants, and at which she would be better than both of her brothers. She has to hide who she is and what she loves from everyone she knows

Dexter lived his whole life never knowing what his destiny would be but also knowing that whatever it was he’d have to commit to it forever the moment he discovered it at Legacy Day.

Duchess has spent her whole life knowing that the story she’s commited to living out ends in tragedy for her, and then had to watch the very people she’s been jealous of for years because of their seemingly happy endings give up those endings, while Duchess, loyal and rule following Duchess, is still stuck with her tragedy.

Faybelle tries so hard to commit to what she sees at her destiny that she’s never had a real friend in her life. Even still, no one recognizes her for all that effort and all she’s given up to be a suitable villain. Everyone is more afraid of Raven, who doesn’t even want to be evil.

Hunter has to constantly go against his moral compass to fulfill his destined role as a Huntsman and to try and make his father proud of him.

Kitty has been taught over and over again to value her Mother’s approval over all else, even at the expense of her friends. Her destiny is to create mischief, but how much more mischief can a dissolving world take before it’s too much?

Lizzie finds it almost impossible to express love or care for anyone else due to her mothers excessive conditioning that’s nearly akin to brainwashing. The saddest thing might be that her mother is actually, in her own way, trying her best to prepare Lizzie for a world that will only ever see her one way—as a villain. Now she lives in Ever After, princess to a kingdom that might not even exist for much longer, having given up everything for a destiny that may soon be impossible.

Maddie is a refugee forced from her home into a world she barely understands at a tender age. But she cannot express any angst or negative feelings about this circumstance, because to do so would go against her character. She lives in a world obsessed with destiny and stories while not even knowing if she’ll ever be able to return home and live out her story.

Raven is judged by almost everyone around her for her mothers crimes, many of which were required of her by destiny in the first place. She is nearly forced to commit to becoming a tyrannical megalomaniac (and almost falls into it herself, several times) who would be sentenced to lifelong punishment and torture for committing acts that weren’t even her idea in the first place, and the one punishing her would have been the very girl who begged so often for her to stop being so difficult and just follow her destiny.

[sofiasworld00]

Build A Bear

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: He just wants to spoil his girl.

Warnings: fluff, some spice towards the end.

Word Count: around 2k.

Y/N hesitated at the entrance to the sleek, pink-lit store, her fingers curling around Lando’s as he tugged her inside with his usual cocky confidence. The faint scent of vanilla and floral perfume hung in the air, blending with soft music. Rows of lace, satin, and silk seemed to glow under the store’s spotlights, and Y/N’s cheeks burned as she took it all in.

“Lando, this is too much,” she murmured, trying to pull him back. “We don’t need to be in here.”

“Nonsense,” Lando said, his smirk widening. His sharp green eyes danced with mischief as he leaned closer. “I need to see you in some of this stuff. For purely… research purposes.”

“Research?” she shot back, folding her arms over her chest, though her lips twitched in amusement.

“Yeah,” he replied, dropping his voice a notch as his fingers brushed her waist. “I need to figure out which one will make you blush the most when you wear it. You know, the important things.”

Y/N laughed, the sound tinged with nervousness as she glanced around. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you,” he quipped, guiding her further into the store. “Now, let’s start over here.”

Browsing The Racks

Lando approached the nearest display with all the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store. He plucked a delicate set of white lace lingerie from the rack, holding it up for her approval.

“What about this one?” he asked, tilting his head as if deep in thought.

Y/N’s face burned as she grabbed the set from his hands and shoved it back onto the rack. “Lando, stop being embarrassing!”

“Embarrassing? Love, I’m being serious,” he said, stepping closer to her. His voice dropped into that familiar, teasing tone that always made her knees weak. “You’d look incredible in this. Don’t you trust my taste?”

“I trust it,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze. “But—”

“No buts,” he cut her off, already reaching for another piece—a deep emerald green bra adorned with intricate lace and matching panties. He held it up to her, squinting like he was picturing her in it.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, feeling her heart race. “That one’s way too expensive,” she said, glancing at the tag and feeling faint.

Lando rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Y/N, do you know who I am?”

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver and professional pain in my ass.”

“And your boyfriend,” he added smugly, tossing the set onto a growing pile of items he was collecting. “Which means I can buy you whatever I want.”

Try On

After much protesting and teasing, Y/N found herself inside one of the plush fitting rooms with a pile of lingerie. The soft lighting in the small space made everything feel more intimate, and she bit her lip as she slipped into the first set—a light pink bra and matching panties adorned with tiny bows.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric and feeling a mix of nervousness and confidence. Lando had been right—his picks suited her perfectly. But still, the idea of stepping out there and showing him felt like a challenge she wasn’t ready to face.

“How’s it going in there?” Lando called from the other side of the door.

“Fine,” she replied quickly, adjusting a strap.

“Let me see,” he said, his voice playful but insistent.

“No way!”

“Come on, Y/N,” he coaxed. “I picked it out. I need to see if I got it right.”

Her cheeks burned as she opened the door just a crack, peeking out. Lando’s eyebrows shot up, and he immediately pushed the door open wider, stepping inside without a hint of shame.

“Lando!” she squeaked, trying to cover herself.

“Relax,” he said, his eyes roaming over her appreciatively. His voice dropped, turning soft and sincere. “You look incredible, love.”

She glanced away, her hands fidgeting nervously. “It’s just… a lot,” she admitted.

“It’s perfect,” he said, stepping closer. His fingers brushed against her arm, sending a shiver down her spine. “And so are you.”

Her protests melted away as he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Checkout

Eventually, Y/N changed back into her clothes, and Lando carried the mountain of lingerie to the checkout counter. Y/N’s stomach churned as she watched the cashier ring up item after item, the total climbing higher and higher.

“This is ridiculous,” she whispered, tugging on Lando’s sleeve. “You don’t have to do this.”

He turned to her, his smirk returning. “I want to,” he said simply, slipping his black credit card onto the counter without hesitation.

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, leaning down so his lips brushed against her ear. “You’re mine, Y/N. And I’m going to spoil you. End of discussion.”

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she watched him sign the receipt like it was nothing. The total could have bought her a small car, but he didn’t even blink.

“You’re insane,” she muttered as they left the store, the bags swinging from his arms.

“And you love me for it,” he replied, grinning.

Home

By the time they got back to Lando’s apartment, Y/N was still trying to wrap her head around the day’s events. The shopping bags sat on the living room floor, the delicate fabrics spilling out like a secret waiting to be revealed.

“You’re still thinking about the price, aren’t you?” Lando asked, dropping onto the couch beside her.

She nodded sheepishly. “I just… I don’t know how to wrap my head around it. You spent so much, and—”

He cut her off with a kiss, his lips soft but insistent against hers. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss until she melted against him.

“Y/N,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and commanding. “Stop worrying. I can afford it, and I want to do this for you. Let me take care of you.”

Her breath hitched as his hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer. “But—”

“No more buts,” he said, his tone firm but teasing. “You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Later

The tension in the room shifted, turning electric as Lando’s lips trailed down her neck, his hands exploring her curves through the fabric of her dress. Y/N’s nerves melted away, replaced by a warm, tingling sensation that spread through her entire body.

“Go try one of those sets on,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky.

Her heart raced as she glanced at the bags. “Lando, I—”

“Now,” he said, his green eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

She bit her lip, hesitating for only a moment before grabbing one of the sets—a deep red lace number—and disappearing into the bedroom.

When she returned, Lando was waiting for her, his expression unreadable as he leaned back on the couch. His eyes darkened as they roamed over her, taking in every inch of the delicate fabric and how it hugged her body.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Y/N stepped closer, her cheeks burning as he reached out and pulled her into his lap. His hands roamed over her back, his touch light but deliberate.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers.

She shivered as his hands slid under the fabric, his touch sending sparks through her. “Lando…”

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of heated kisses, whispered promises, and Lando proving, over and over, just how much he adored her.

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