#he doesn't remember anything but he knows

[whoisraii]

Even if my heart stops beating...You're the only thing I need with me

☆ : Featuring : All of the drivers present in the 2025 grid ☆ : Synopsis : Them around you while they have a crush on you but you are too oblivious...

☆ : word count : 2.1k

🎧Song for this fic : Pretty Boy ( Chip Chorme and the Monotones)...The Neighbourhood

Note : this is actually my first time writing for all 20 of them so if I don't do justic to one of them I'm so sorry 😭😭

☽・Redbull

max verstappen

You never catch Max being openly affectionate.

But the camera crew does—he’s always glancing around until he spots you.

If you’re laughing with another driver? Suddenly he’s there, acting like it’s just coincidence.

Once he said something almost nice about your outfit, then looked away like he didn’t say anything at all.

“That color doesn’t look bad on you.” “Wait, was that a compliment?” “No. Just an observation. Don’t get weird about it.”

Yuki Tsunoda

Loud, dramatic, hilarious.

Yuki will yank you into comming to the races.

“Please you are good luck to me. I need you to be down there watching me”

He brings you your favorite snacks before every race and insists it’s because he “bought too many.” (He didn’t.)

Whole paddock knows he’s crushing. but you? Blissfully unaware...

You will find your favorite candy waiting for you the second you have a bad day..

“They were on sale. Don’t overthink it.”

☽・Mercedes

George Russell

George treats you like his personal planner—even if you’re just a media coordinator or on a logistics team.

Walks you through every weekend plan, sends you the brief before you ask, and gives pre-interview pep talks like you're going on camera instead of him.

When it rains, he will offer you his umbrella...Even if that means he ends up soaked.

“George, you’re getting drenched.”...“Yes, but you’re not. That’s what matters.”

Andrea Kimi Antonelli

He doesn't flirt he just teases the living hell out of you..

You mispronounce an Italian word once��once—and Kimi never lets it go.

The thing is, he’s always around. Not in an obvious way, but in that quiet, lingering in your peripheral vision way.

He stands close—too close—when he’s talking to you. Shoulder brushing yours. Arms almost touching. But if you lean away or give him a look, he just raises an eyebrow like what? am I in your space? could never be me.

He might tease you...but he will remember your everything...and he will take pictures of you candid stuff which you later find out when he sends you one by mistake..A candid. You, mid-laugh, half-blurry from movement. The corner of his jacket sleeve is visible in the frame.

will smile while you talk to him and maybe get lost in your eyes..too lost maybe..

“What?”..“You were looking at me.”..“No, I was—don’t be weird.”..(Pause)..“You had something on your face.”

☽・Ferrari

Charles Leclerc

Holds you hand to subconciously sometimes...

Gets a bit pouty when the fanbase favours you more but he secretly loves it...

knows your coffee order by heart and gets you coffee every morning...

Doesn't accept it and saty quiet if anyone tries to disrespect you or mistreat you...yeah not on his watch...

"Did you drink enough water today? and did you have breakfast? you skip that meal a lot...like a lot..."

Lewis Hamilton

Keeps it professional on camera but insists producers highlight your work and advocacy...

Makes sure to include you in glitzy events but won’t directly talk about his feelings for you.

Wraps an arm around you in press chaos but immediately acts casual if questioned.

Posts a soft photo of you with a vague caption — as if to say

"I’m here, but I won’t say more.”

☽・Mclaren

Lando Norris

Doesn't flirt with you like he does with others...he just becomes a 12 year old with a crush around you...

Will unplug your mic and act shocked when you notice and always standing behind you during group shots, pulling faces.

Starts every day with “don't tell me what to do” and ends it with “text me when you’re home. I get worried if you don't”

Is in more of your posts than in regular ones which makes the PR go mad..

(Later, during media day) “Lando, can you stop photobombing her instagram?”...“Sorry, I’m her emotional support driver.”

Oscar Piastri

He pays attention...will remember anything and everything you tell him about yourself...your coffee order, favorite books, favorite artist...everything.

He wants to listen to music? He wants to listen it with you...will share earbuds without a second thought...

Will sit beside you the second he has the oppurtunity...

If someone raises their voice at you he will polietly but firmly to keep their tone in check...and most of the times not infront of you...

“Oscar went full lawyer on that journo for you.” you would probably find out form someone on the team...

“You never said.” “Didn’t need to. He was wrong. You deserved better.”

Since he remembers almost everything...you will find coffee or something to cheer you up the second you have a bad day...

“You didn’t have to bring me tea…”..“You sounded tired. Figured you wouldn’t stop for yourself.”

☽・Aston Martin

Fernando Alonso

Will subtly shake his head all the time while maintaining eye contact with you while you speak

Also asks you to be there in the garages while he srives because he sees you as his lucky charm...

He would never admit it but things you give him are always kept safely and a keychain you gave him is always on his backpack because it reminds him of you...

If anyone tries to get dissmisive about you job title or say anything bad abt you...He wont think twice before speaking up and sometimes maybe not so politely...

“If you don’t know her role, you shouldn’t be asking questions.”

Lance Stroll

He might be the most nonchalant guy to others but he laughs the hardest the second you make a joke...even if its dumb or stupid...

The one to buy you your favorite snacks in bulk and just keep then with him in case you are ever hungry..

And he will stick to you because to him you are his comfort person...

You might see him scribbling your name in his notes and stuff...its subconcious but its just him...

“You wrote my name?” “It’s not weird! I mean—it’s just for luck. Like… positive manifestation. Or whatever.”

☽・Williams

Alex Albon

He's tall so he walks fast but when you're walking with him...he will slow down his pace to just match with yours so you can walk more comfortably...

If its your first time at a grand prix...he will try his hardest to make sure absolutely nothing goes wrong for you...

Picking at eachother is deffinately the love language between you both...but he would never cross the line...

If he ever notices you skipping breakfast or any meal of the day...he will make sure to carry something with him so that he can hand it to you immediatly when it looks like you're hungry...

If you have anything big comming up for you and you're nervous...he will slide you notes and pretend that they were absolutely not from him...

“‘Knock ‘em dead, superstar’? What happened to ruthless sarcasm?” “Who let you see that? I was trying to be mysterious and emotionally unavailable.” “Too late. Your soft side is showing.” “Damn. I knew I should’ve written ‘Don’t trip on camera.’”

Carlos Sainz

Will run to you the second he feels even a minescule spec of stress...he calls you his 'calming presence' because your voice feels so calm...

Will send you his song recomendations...

Is probably the kind of guy to beg you to get song widgets where you can pick out songs for eachother when it reminds you of eachother...

Would'nt think twice before offering you his jacket with a small smirk and nodd...

“You remembered my favorite artist?” “Of course. I listen when you talk. That’s what friends do...Especially the special ones.”

☽・Haas

Oliver Bearman

He will drop everything and run to you the second he spotts you...unless its very important or work related...

Will repeat the complements you give him under his breath just to relieve the happiness of what you had just said...

He gets visibly happy when you say "see you later" even if its a part of rouine at this point...

He will cling to you like a koala and see you as his comfort person...

Also sees you as his lucky charm so asking you to be his plus one in gps is the most normal thing...

Remembers your orders and your favorite songs by heart...

“Ollie, breathe. It’s just lunch.” “Right. Normal. Casual. Totally regular human food consumption...You know, if it were just us forever, I’d be fine with that.”

Estaban Ocon

Will hold everything for you...the door...the umbrella...your sanity...

Will get you an extra pass so that you can come watch him race..and will panic if he forgets to get you one by any chance

Also knows your coffee order, food orders and schedule like its the back of his hand...

will strict heartedly follow the sidewalk rule...

If you have a bad day and he gets to know about it...expect him to get you your favorite takeout and ask if you want to have a movie night at his with him...

"why do you always make me drink water and get me food?" “Because you forget to eat when you're stressed… and you always leave your water bottle behind.” “So you’re stalking me for hydration purposes?” “Exactly. I'm a very noble stalker.”

☽・Racing bulls

Liam Lawson

Liam will give you nickanames that only he has rights to use...if anyone uses them...he will make sure that he makes it a point that only he can call you that...

He will carry some of your favorite snacks with him always in case you miss a meal or are genuinly hungry...

He will pretend to trip over his feet just so you can check up on him...

Calls you his 'lucky charm' and will cling to you...

Gifts you stuff...and makes sure nothing wrong happens to you...

“Did you seriously bring me gummy bears?” “You said you liked them once. In January. Of last year.” “So this is… thoughtful stalking?” “No! It’s called long-term strategic snacking...…Also I needed an excuse to talk to you today.”

Isack Hadjar

Isack will always be at the corner of your eye...everyone knows if you are somewhere he is nearby...

He wears the friendship bracelet you gave him like its a sacred thread...if anyone tries to touch it...he will yank his hand away...every single picture...its there on his hand...all the time...

Somehow always ends up holding your watter bottle or jacket or lanyard...he will say that you maybe lost it and hes just here to return...but its obvious that he has been holding it for about thirty minutes or so...

Remembers your coffee order and favorite songs...he will share his earbuds with you...

He would never flirt directly...but the second you say that you are cold...his hoodie is in your hands before you can even complete the sentence...

“You okay? You’re twitchier than usual.” “Didn’t sleep much.” “Why not?” “Was trying to figure out how to talk to you without sounding like an idiot.”

☽・Alpine

Peirre Gasly

Is convinced that you are his soulmate...he will flirt with you...and smile at you the entire time you talk with him...

Calls you 'sunshine' because he thinks you bring hope to him...

Will act offended if Simba likes you more but secretly loves you playing with Simba...

He will send you flowers under a fake name but then ask if you liked them...

"Liked the flowers on your doorstep this morning sunshine?" "That was you?"

Jack Doohan

Jack is the defination of 'Act cool. Panic later'

He is all soft smiles and hopeful glances, pretending he’s totally chill around you while in reality...he’s memorized every conversation...rehearsed his jokes, and 100% lies awake replaying the way you laughed at something he said three weeks ago.

Shows up with spare team merch "just lying around" and melts when you wear it

Gets adorably tounge tied if you complement him...say "you look nice today" with that soft smile and watch him trip over a cord or somthing while smiling...

The inside of his notebook has one scribble in the margin that reads: “Ask her out before the season ends. Please.”

You catch him staring sometimes, not in a cocky way, but like he’s just genuinely stunned you exist near him.

“She’s just… I don’t know. She makes everything feel less chaotic.

☽・Kick Sauber

Nico Hulkenberg

Is a little bit grumpy about everything except you....

He will say something like "you again?" but immediately make some space for you so you can sit...

leaves his jacket on your chair by "accident" when ever its cold...

leves you little notes in the jacket pockets...

"media days dont suck if shes there..."

Gabriel Bortoleto

blushes if you talk to him...blushes if you stand close to him...blushes if you smile...blushes if you wave...basically a blushing mss when it comes to you...

Will ask you to be in the garages during the race and reassures himself with a “Breathe. She’s here.”

Will give you his water bottle if you can't find your with two hands like a nervous kid giving yo a flower..

also wears the bracelet you gave him like a sacred thread...

"please come to the race...you help me keep my sanity down there..."

©WHOISRAII 2025 ━ do not copy, steal, post somewhere else or translate my work without my permission.

[ohcroculus]

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc; 0.3k + extra.

the storm outside batters against the windows, the wind howling like the ghosts simon carries in his chest. it's late—too late—but he can't sleep much these days. the house is quiet, save for the soft whimper of his daughter stirring in her crib.

he send you to sleep a while ago, he knew you were tired for staying the whole day up and tomorrow you had work.

grace is sitting up when he gets there, blinking sleep from her eyes, cheeks flushed with warmth. he doesn't say anything at first. instead, he just lowers himself beside the crib, mask discarded for once, face to face with her in the glow of the nightlight. she reaches out with chubby fingers, brushing his jaw like she’s trying to recognize him by touch alone.

then she says it. clearer than it has any right to be.

"dada."

it's not a sound— he remembered any other of her incoherent mumbles and he knows she's not babbling.

he smiles— not just a smirk or a side one, it's a full smile that reaches his eyes.

he has been called many things in his life—soldier, killer, monster. but dada?

he never thought he'd earn that one. and there she is, repeating it over and over as she grabs her feet.

giggling at his stunned silence, and he presses his forehead gently to hers, closing his eyes like a sinner at confession.

"well, aren't you a charmer?"

extra:

he wouldn't admit it, but sometimes— just sometimes he wished that grace could've learned to say 'mama' first.

"dada!" she cried from her room and you muttered with your face buried in the pillow.

"she's calling for ya."

"i'm goin'," he huffed and stood up from bed, walking towards the door for the third night.

you smiled before you drifted off to sleep. that tiktok saying that you should make your kid call for 'dad' first was totally right.

a/n: requests are officially open!

[darkbluekies]

How would the Yanderes react if their darling flashed the mid argument 🤔

A/N: Do not ask what this is please😮‍💨 Warnings: none really theyre just ... intrigued

Silas:

Short circuit immediately. Barely remembers what you fought about.

"Okay, wow, thanks for that, but you can't keep doing that when we're in a disagreement. But do that more often, though. You know what, fuck whatever we argued about, I think you and I need to have a different talk, come here."

Dr Kry:

He just goes still and gives you a look that is both confused and intrigued. Suddenly he doesn't seem mad anymore. He chuckles and leans against the wall

"Is that how you solve disagreements, Y/N? Because, I don't want to be that type of person, but this doesn't really solve anything, does it? Looking cute, though."

King Edmund:

Acts like a boy still going through puberty. His jaw drops, tugging your hands away when you quit.

"Nuh-uh, we're not doing that. If we're going to argue i night as well get a pretty view while I'm at it."

Jerry:

Isn't even fazed. She'd smirk and sink down in the nearest chair, shrugging.

"What? Why do you just stand there and look stupid? I thought we were done yelling and fighting Don't want to damage our vocal cords with the wrong thing, do we?"

Hedwig:

Bright red, tries hard to look somewhere else but failing quite badly. At least she's gone quiet.

"Can ... can I take a picture?"

[dextivestudios]

No, no, people don't get it.

Doctor Who (1963) was EXTREMELY feminist for its time, and it apparently had an actual card-carrying communist working on it in the 70s.

Barbara White is amazing and I love her. She was the one with the braincell, and freaking ATE. Meanwhile, Ian was a parody of the "breadwinner manly man don't worry, ladies, I got this!" type. (Spoiler alert: it was the lady who had things handled.)

Like, if Ian was created today, he definitely WOULD follow Andrew Tate and unironically call himself an alpha, only for that to...not be the case. At all.

Alt-right "Whovians" literally look at characters like Ian and the joke just flies over their heads completely.

We are meant to admire Barbara, and we are meant to laugh at Ian.

I should also mention it tended to get very preachy about anti-colonialism.

Classic Doctor Who was far from perfect. Disabled and queer people virtually don't exist, and it's very much a racist show with there being more yellowface than actual Asian actors. (And it takes an embarrassingly long time for them to finally cast a black actor. I noticed a darker complexion for the first time during the FIFTH DOCTOR's run. Which is....YIKES!) And the amount of cultural appropriation/orientalism would be shocking to modern audiences.

I do think more people should watch more Classic Who. It's not as good as nostalgic Classic Who fans claim, and there are episodes far worse than even the Timeless Child incident in the modern show but watching Classic Who does expose you to amazing stories, and it does improve your viewing experience for the modern show. Like, so many jokes and references go over your head if you don't watch the Classic show.

It wasn't even perfect with the feminist aspect and there are plenty of counterpoints where companions, and the writing in general, fell victim to sexism.

And, yes, the bad/offensive episodes should be watched, too. It's a part of Doctor Who history, and even harmful art has value to it. And the fact that it sucked in other aspects does not devalue for many things such as feminism.

My only recommendation is to watch Victoria Waterfield's run in its entirely. You will want to skip her. But trust me on this one. Don't skip an episode. The more you see of her, the funnier her departure will be.

And, honestly, I think the original creators would be proud of what Doctor Who has become, especially in the representation aspects. It is queer and not asking for forgiveness. The TARDIS has wheelchair access now, we have two black Doctors with one of them being a main Doctor, two LGBT Doctors BACK-TO-BACK.

Though that's strictly talking about the characters. I know that Ncuti himself is gay, Jodie has a husband and I don't think she made any public announcements about any labels she may identify with? That's to her discretion and I don't really care that much. All I can say for certain is that she is married to a man, and appears to not mind depicting sapphic women. I won't speculate because that is an asshole thing to do, and this tangent has gone on for long enough already.

All in all, Doctor Who has always been woke. It has a flawed past, and its focuses have shifted overtime. Heck, remember when it was big on anti-guns all the way back at Tenth Doctor?

But, yeah, the problem is that it has a focus on groups that the Nazis are currently actively targeting. Which would be both queer and disabled people, it also doesn't help the cast is heavy on POC at the moment (note: not a bad thing.) and the women characters are currently being respected. But it's primarily the queer characters and disabled characters.

Nazis are not real Whovians, and I'm glad that Doctor Who is making an effort to make them as uncomfortable and unwelcome as possible. Because tolerating Nazis and taking them seriously, like giving our time and energy to them is worth anything, is exactly how they are gaining power in the USA.

Remember: the only nazi who deserves peaceful interactions are dead nazis. And even then, feed their bodies to the dogs, as not even death is redemption for them.

[delopsia]

Happy belated birthday!!! 🥳🥳

For the celebration - Bob Floyd, Rhett Abbott and Robert Reynolds

Moonlight Bullriding - the boys cumming in their pants

👀 wow I haven't gotten a multi-character ask like this in forever ⭐Join my Starlight Stampede Event! ⭐

Moonlit Bull Riding — Send any kind of thought or request for your rider(s)

Bob Reynolds °.•☆

Your mouth flutters over the thick material of his sweatpants, pressing chaste kisses into the outline of his cock, only pausing long enough to mouth at the tip, wetting it with your tongue. Bob gasps, squirming out from under you and further up the bed. "You're not getting away from me that easily," you murmur, speaking directly against him. The rumble of your voice sends his back arching up, babbling something incoherent under his breath.

Your hand rises to gently squeeze him, wrapping your lips around his cock head once more. Hands paw at your forehead, futilely trying to push you away. He's so cute, you're hardly even doing anything to him and here he is, wriggling like a damn worm. "Does that feel good?" You already know the answer. He's so, so easy to read, but you want to hear him say it. "Uhuh," whimpering under his breath, "feels...feels..." A sharp whine cuts through the bedroom air, Bob's cock twitches beneath your touch, his hips rising up off the mattress. A familiar saltiness greets your taste buds. "Already?" Giggling, you draw away and replace your mouth with your hand, rubbing firm circles into his tip. A beat passes, and he gasps. "I didn't—I didn't mean to, oh my god." He sucks in a breath, holding it for a moment. Then, sitting up, excitement glistening in his wide eyes."We can do that again, right?"

Rhett Abbott °.•☆

Between the low groan rumbling in your ear and the way he twitches against your thigh, you can do this all day. Rhett's hand tightens on your waist, absolutely shameless about how he chases the pressure of your leg between his. Anyone can walk past and see you. This alleyway is only so remote, someone is bound to come walking down here and stumble across the sight of a cowboy grinding on your thigh. "You're gonna get us caught," you warn, fully aware that he doesn't give the slightest damn about that. Not like this would be the first close-call, or the second, or the third. "No 'm not," the heat of his breath burns right into your sensitive neck. But that's not the answer you're looking for. Your fingers tangle in his hair, yanking his head back and— "Shit," Rhett's eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open. And you can feel his cock twitching through his jeans, cumming without the slightest ounce of warning. "I don't remember you being this easy," teasing. Has he always been this sensitive about having his hair pulled? Teeth nip your ear, his breathy whimper sending a shiver up your spine. "Let's see if y' can last any longer than me, huh?"

Bob Floyd °.•☆

"You're not slick," Bobby's breath tickles your ear, his lips brushing the shell of it. "I can feel exactly what you're doing." "Good," you hum. Your eyes remain glued to the television, remaining as casual as possible. As if you're not perched in his lap, lazily grinding your ass into him. "I want you to feel it." His dejected huff is almost too loud, but nobody looks your way. Thank god Maverick likes his action films, your cover would have been blown a long time ago if this were a quiet, yearning romance. Bob's head thumps against your shoulder, a faint noise bubbling out of him. The roar of the movie covers up the louder one that follows. Frankly, that's the only thing fueling your to keep moving, grinding your ass into him in loose circles, in spite of the strain its putting on your thighs. His arms curl around your waist, squeezing you as hard as he can, and you think that might be his teeth sinking into the back of your neck. Vaguely, you feel him twitch against your ass. Once, twice. A faint moan chases it. You peer over your shoulder. "Did you just...?" Bob's flushed face is the only answer you need. "I might've."

[nephynes]

Hey actually i had an idea like jake or heeseung being an tattoo artist and reader getting her 2nd tattoo, but on butt/or any places that might get him turned on. starting off with normal convo but soon turned really freaky.

oou i was serious when i said i got some really good reqs 🙂‍↕️

MDNI

══════════════════════════

The first time you met Heeseung, it was on this same table, tilted to the side as he hovered over your neck with gloved hands and whispered, "You okay?" every two minutes while tattooing a tiny cross near your ear. He was painfully gentle, ridiculously focused. You remembered thinking, God, he smells so good.

You told yourself you wanted a second tattoo because they were addictive, but deep down, it was Heeseung you were addicted to.

So now you're back. And this time, you don't pick a hidden spot. No, you sit on the edge of the tattoo table and glance up at him through your lashes. "I want two butterflies," you say sweetly, tapping where the curve of your breast meets your rib.

Heeseung chokes on his own breath.

"L–Like there?" His ears flush pink as he gestures, like he's not exactly sure if he's allowed to look.

"Mhm," you hum. "Think it'll look cute?"

He clears his throat, pretending to flip through your intake form again. "Y–Yeah. Yeah, that's a good spot. Great skin there. Soft."

You smile. "You think my skin's soft?"

He freezes, eyes snapping to yours in horror. "I meant—it's—technically, all skin is—I just meant—"

"It's okay, Heeseung," you tease, already tugging your shirt down, slow and deliberate, exposing the top of your lace bra. "You're the professional."

He swallows hard, hands slightly trembling as he pulls on a fresh pair of gloves. The buzzing machine starts up, but his mind is miles away.

You're so warm under his hands. You don't flinch when he touches you to stencil the outline, but you do gasp a little when his knuckle brushes over the swell of your breast by accident. He pauses.

"I'm fine," you murmur, eyes fluttering. "You can keep going."

Heeseung doesn't speak, doesn't dare look you in the eye. But as the tattoo begins, your soft sighs start turning into barely-there whines. And you know exactly what you're doing when you shift slightly—just enough for your nipple to peek out under the fabric of your shirt.

"Shit," Heeseung whispers, backing away.

You tilt your head, biting your lip. "Something wrong?"

Heeseung's hand is steady, but his eyes keep flickering up—quick glances, like he's trying not to notice that your shirt has slipped low, the cup of your bra barely clinging on as you lean back in the chair with your arm behind your head, completely relaxed.

You're not helping.

"You've got such a soft touch," you murmur, voice lazy and warm, a little smile playing on your lips. "You always this gentle with your clients?"

He doesn't answer, he's been hovering over the edge of a breakdown since you walked in asking for a second tattoo so close to your fucking tit. Now, the top half of your breast is entirely exposed, your nipple just barely out of sight, until it's not. The lace of your bra shifts again, and it slips free.

You don't flinch. You just keep talking, easy as anything. "So... how'd you get into tattooing?" you ask, blinking up at him innocently.

Heeseung hesitates, machine paused mid-stroke. "Uh... I used to draw a lot. Got obsessed with linework."

"Mmm. You're really good at it," you hum, voice almost a purr now. "Do you have a favorite client?"

Heeseung looks like he's about to pass out. He pulls back slightly, setting the gun down on the tray with a clatter. "I—I can't do this."

You sit up just a little, letting the rest of your tit fall fully into view. "What do you mean?"

He stands, running a shaky hand through his hair. "I mean I can't fucking do this. You're sitting there with your—" He swallows. "—and you're talking like it's nothing. And I'm trying so hard not to lose it."

That's when you see it. The outline in his pants, painfully obvious, straining hard against the fabric.

Your grin is wicked. "Wait," you giggle softly, "are you hard right now? From a little side boob?"

Heeseung turns scarlet. "Don't—don't do that."

"Oh, come on," you coo, rising slowly, placing your palm right over the thick bulge. His hips jerk into your hand instinctively, and you feel the desperation. The way he's already twitching under your touch.

"Are you sure you want me to stop?" you whisper, lips close to his jaw now. "You don't look like you want me to."

He groans—like he's losing a battle. His fingers flex at his sides, jaw tight, body straining forward as your hand starts to move just slightly, stroking him through his jeans.

"I shouldn't," he mutters, voice cracking. "I'm—fuck, I'm your artist."

"But you want to be more than that, don't you?" you ask, low and syrupy, kissing up the column of his neck. "You want to ruin me right here, Heeseung? Make a mess on your own table?"

His hips roll again, seeking more pressure. He's rutting into your palm now, helpless and humiliated and so goddamn turned on he can barely think. His chest is rising and falling like he's just run a mile. Your hand stays exactly where it is, cupped over the thick outline in his pants and feeling it twitch in your palm like it has a mind of its own. He doesn't move. Doesn't even breathe properly. Just stares at you like you've short-circuited something deep inside him.

His eyes squeeze shut, a vein ticking at his jaw. "You can't just—" he rasps, hands clenched at his sides like he's physically holding himself back. "You can't just touch me like that and talk like everything's fucking normal."

You give him a slow squeeze.

He groans. The sound is raw, shame-laced, like he's already mad at himself for how good it feels.

"You don't want me to stop," you whisper. It's not a question this time.

His eyes flicker open, wild and uncertain. "Fuck—don't—"

You press a kiss just below his jaw, right where his pulse is hammering, and he shudders. That's when it happens—his hips jerk forward. Just a little. Just enough that you feel him grind himself against your palm more, chasing friction he doesn't even mean to seek.

"Oh my god," you whisper, smiling against his skin. "You're humping my hand, Heeseung?"

He lets out a pained whimper and grabs your wrist, not to stop you—he doesn't pull away—but just to hold it. Just to feel like he has some control over the unraveling.

"You're so mean," he mutters, barely above a whisper. "You don't even realize what you're doing to me."

You tilt your head, watching his breath stutter and shift your grip, a little firmer now, and he lets out a full-bodied groan, all low, desperate, and so fucking pretty it goes straight to your core.

His eyes are glazed over, dark and drowning. "If you keep doing that, I'm not gonna be able to stop."

"Who said I want you to?"

Silence. Thick and hot and full of tension.

Then something snaps. Something invisible but loud—like the sound of restraint giving way. He grabs your face and kisses you like he's starving. No hesitation now. No shy little glances or nervous coughs. His tongue is in your mouth, his hands already pulling your shirt off the rest of the way like it's in his way. And suddenly, it's not sweet or cute, it's needy and reckless.

You moan into his mouth as he manhandles you back onto the padded tattoo table, your legs spread wide without needing to be asked. He's on his knees a second later, yanking your shorts down your legs and tossing them somewhere over his shoulder. He's panting, lips swollen, sweat already forming at his temples.

"You—fuck—you don't know what you've started."

Then his mouth is on you.

And Heeseung? He eats like he's been fantasizing about this since the first day you walked into his shop. Tongue fucking you slow at first, savoring every flick, every whimper you let out. But the longer it goes, the more frantic he gets—sloppy sounds, fingers digging into your thighs, like he wants to make you messy, like he wants you to cum and cry and fall apart before he even thinks about getting inside you. "Oh fuck yeah." "Keep doing that"

You tug his hair hard, grinding against his face, and he moans into your pussy, shaking with it. When he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, there's a different look in his eyes now. Something primal and ruined.

And his pants are off in seconds.

"Hope you're not expecting anything soft," he breathes out. "Not after the shit you just pulled."

You just smile, letting your legs fall open wider, and whisper, "Then fuck me like you mean it." And he doesn't hesitate this time. His hand wraps around his cock, guiding it to your soaked entrance. He groans under his breath, not even fully inside yet, just watching the way your slick coats his tip.

"Fuck, you're wet," he breathes, voice shaking. "You like teasing me this much, huh? Getting off on how desperate I am?"

You blink up at him, breathless. "I like seeing how long you can pretend you're not losing your mind."

And then he pushes in—slow, steady, the stretch making your back arch off the chair.

You moan, loud and unfiltered, head tipping back. "Heeseung—"

"Oh my god," he hisses, gripping your waist tight as your cunt swallows him. "You feel so fucking good. Oh fuck, f-fuck."

He's not shy anymore, not even a little. The second he bottoms out, he's already moving, slow thrusts at first, deep and dragging, like he wants to feel every inch. But it doesn't take long before he's picking up the pace, grunting every time your walls squeeze around him.

"Sound so pretty when you moan," he pants, thrusting harder. "Could listen to you cry for me all day."

You're gasping now, clutching at his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist. He leans in close, forehead pressed to yours, and you can feel every ragged breath he takes.

"You always this tight?" he mutters, more to himself than you. "Or just for me?"

You try to answer, but it's just a sob, every stroke hitting that deep, perfect spot, your body giving out under the rhythm of his hips. The wet slap of skin-on-skin fills the room, and your moans rise in pitch as your release builds.

Heeseung watches your face twist in pleasure, eyes glazed and lips parted, and he groans again—louder this time, losing rhythm just slightly as he feels your walls flutter.

"You're close," he whispers, almost in awe. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't you?"

You nod frantically. "Yes—yes, please—"

"Then cum," he pants, barely coherent. "I'm not stopping."

You don't even realize you're crying out until your orgasm crashes through you, blinding and electric. Heeseung fucks you through it, watching your face, eyes hungry, loving the way you shake underneath him.

But he's not done.

He's still hard. Still moving, holding you open, pumping into your soaked, sensitive cunt like he's trying to mark you from the inside out.

"H-Heeseung, I—I can't—" you whimper.

"Yes, you can," he growls, kissing you hard. "You wanted this, right? Wanted to tease me? Now take it."

His voice drops, low and rough, and he drives into you harder, deeper, pulling your hips into his thrusts like he can't get close enough.

"Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you fall apart on my cock again."

You break.

Your second orgasm tears through you like a wave, your body jerking, clenching down so hard Heeseung lets out a strangled growl and shoves in deep, staying there.

But he doesn't stop. Doesn't slow.

Heeseung is fucking you through it again, watching every twitch of your body, every sob, every cry of his name. You're limp under him, trembling and sensitive, and wondering where he learned to fuck like this, but he just keeps going, drunk off the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him.

You're not even sure when you start begging, not sure what you're even saying anymore, just broken little words, strung together with whimpers.

And that's when he loses it.

He pulls out, just for a second, stroking himself fast and messy, his hips twitching. "Fuck—fuck—I'm gonna—"

You grab his hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "Inside."

He freezes. "What?"

"Cum inside me," you whisper, eyes glassy, voice wrecked. "Wanna feel it. Wanna keep it in."

He lets out a ragged moan, stumbles forward, and presses in again, deep, so deep, until he's seated to the hilt. And then he spills.

You feel every pulse, every throb, the warmth flooding you. You're both panting hard when he finally collapses on top of you, body trembling, skin flushed. And then—so soft, so Him—he looks up at you and whispers:

"I... think you're my favorite client."

══════════════════════════

• a/n: please don’t have raw sex with your tattoo artist just cause you think they’re cute, well unless it’s heeseung 🙂‍↕️

also this got really out of hand😭 why is it 2k words long

[chiara-hotel]

Dating Them Characters: Harumasa, Hugo, Lycaon, Vivan, Astra Yao, Seth

✧ Harumasa is a lazy person, everyone knows that, but when it comes to loving you, he is truly committed

✧ He always shows up early whenever you guys hang out

✧ His memory when it comes to you is also amazing; he can remember all of the small details that you tell him

✧ Since he's sick, you would also have to attend his doctor's appointments whenever he needs them

✧ Also, don't forget to remind him when he needs to take his meds

✧ Harumasa isn't a great sleeper. If you cuddle with him, you might wake up if he has a nightmare. In his eyes, he hates waking you up from nightmares, but he's also glad that you were there to comfort him.

✧ His main love language is gift-giving and quality time

✧ #1 hype man, he always tells you how beautiful you look or how amazing your outfit is

✧ Harumasa also loves trading clothes, such as shirts. If you both have a white blouse, he might steal it every once in a while- it helps him focus, too

✧ Hugo is a gentleman, but only for you. He'll open doors for you, hold your coat, and buy you lunch

✧ He loves giving you his own coat if you get cold at night, he'll tease you before placing it on your own shoulders

✧ Speaking of teasing, he's such a tease to you- he loves it

✧ If you're dating him, you're definitely a part of Mockingbird, which means you guys commit heists together all the time

✧ While you both work, he always looks out for you and makes sure that you're safe at all times. For your own safety, he couldn't live if anything happened to you in his hands

✧ Hugo's main love language is gift giving. You often find things around your house that he left for you to find, or even packages that arrive at your door. They don't have a sender ID, but you know it's him.

✧ Whenever you guys go on dates or have meetings, he always brings your favourite snacks and flowers

✧ He loves it whenever you brush and play with his hair; it's super calming for him. You could even put some clips or flowers in it, and he wouldn't mind.

✧ Lycaon is a gentleman, always kind to you

✧ Not only that but hes great with communicating with you

✧ He always ensures you're okay and got enough sleep

✧ He enjoys opening doors for you, carrying you when you're tired

✧ One of his love languages is Acts of service, it makes him happy when he can do things for you

✧ Especially protecting you from things, he always wants to make sure you remain unharmed (although he'd prefer you not get in dangerous situations to begin with)

✧ Most likely, you have some combat knowledge if you're with him; training together is his favourite, he loves to show you new moves

✧ He loves it whenever you cuddle with his tail; it's also very comforting to him

✧ His comfort is always his priority when cuddling, though

✧ If he did harm you in any way, he would apologize and make it up to you (even if you say it's fine, it's not fine to him)

✧ Vivian is a yandere at heart, obsessed with you and your actions

✧ She has a great memory when it comes to you; she also records and documents whenever you go out, everything you say, etc.

✧ She also has many photos of you on her wall with hearts over them. Although she hides them whenever you come over, since she doesn't want you to see them.

✧ You've also met Hugo since she's in Mockingbird with him

✧ Her love language is quality time, even if you're sleeping beside her or you're drifting off, she still loves you and spending time with you

✧ If anyone hurts you or bullies you for any reason at all she'd be sure to make them pay for their actions

✧ Dating her means sneaking off whenever her bodyguards aren't looking for her

✧ Not to mention, you get to hang out with her all day during her job and have VIP tickets to all of her concerts

✧ Evelyn is glad Astra Yao has someone with her whenever she sneaks off, since she doesn't want her in too much danger

✧ She loves to sneak off with you to popular date spots like cafes or the beach

✧ When she's off-duty and at home, she loves taking a nice warm bath with you while you both cuddle

✧ She also loves talking about you to other people

✧ Seth is a great communicator as well

✧ He prefers cuddling you a lot, though

✧ Whenever he's off-duty, of course, Seth would prefer to keep his work life out of his romantic life with you

✧ He won't admit it, but he loves it whenever you play with his ears (though don't do it in front of anyone else)

✧ He's not a huge fan of PDA, although hand-holding is fine

---------------

ZZZ Masterlist Here

[hopleii]

mha boys with dead reader hcs . . .

content: angst. thats all im saying LMAOO jk. katsuki x reader, izuku x reader, kirishima x reader, headcanons, angst, reader is dead, not proofread and was written with jeff buckley playing in the background so its probably broken sentences because im on my period and sobbing rn

a/n: i wanted to cry but i also wanted to make it everyone's problem

KATSUKI

becomes louder in every way to block out the grief.

trains harder, yells louder, angrier, more explosive...but nothing blocks the pain out. it's louder than his biggest explosions.

no one notices that he's hurting, though. they think it made him stronger. and he thought that too.

one day, he was training with kirishima, headphones on and blasting his hype music, but he forgot to put the shuffle feature off.

mid-spar, your favorite song played. you added it as a joke but he never removed it because he wanted to see why you liked the stupid song so much

he pauses, looks at kirishima, and walks away. he sat on the bench, hands cradling his face

it's no use, though. his calloused hands will never replicate the feeling of the warm ones that were yours.

looks through your phone sometimes because you gave him the password.

he always looks through it, looking through the photos you took, your notes app

all were full of so much love. so lovely, sweet, and so awfully you.

watches all the reels or videos you sent but he never watched because he was too lazy. he regrets not watching them.

IZUKU

stalks your profile.

it brings him peace and sadness all at the same time.

peace because it's like everything was frozen in time---your posts of happy moments, unforgettable memories, it's like everything is still there. immortalized and frozen

but sadness because he knows you wont post anymore, because he knows you won't gain new memories and happy moments.

your contact is still in his phone, and he refused to let your chats be buried, so he pinned your contact.

backreads everything and when he gets to the top/the first message, he regrets not talking to you enough.

everyone is telling him to move on, to pick himself up, that he has the whole future ahead of him. but he doesn't want to see that future without you being there to witness it.

he still tries, though. he tries so fucking hard to keep it together because he knows it's what you'd want.

unlike most people who try to forget, he doesn't. he doesn't want to forget anything.

he still has you on his wallpaper and lockscreen, your photobooth photos still on his phone case

he's scared of forgetting what you sound like, because your voice always gave him comfort.

replays all the voice mails you sent him, even if it's just you screaming into the mic.

KIRISHIMA

soft, quiet grief. it's quiet, but all over the place. like everyone can feel a bit of the pain he's going through.

still friendly and fun, but his smile never fully reaches his eyes.

when he's doing something and he needs to grab something, he still calls out for you.

"babe, can you get my--...oh."

struggles dyeing the back part of his hair because he got so used to you doing it for him.

he often forgets you're not there anymore.

whenever he passes by a coffee shop, he'll pull out his phone and text his location. but before he hits send, he remembers.

when he's shopping for himself and he finds something he likes, like a jacket maybe, he looks over his shoulder expecting you to be there, because he's so used to getting your opinion when buying new things.

STILL TEXTS GOOD MORNING OR GOOD NIGHT.

whenever he's with friends, he's not ashamed to insert you into the conversation

"y/n would've found that funny", "hey, don't talk like that. y/n would kill you." "fuck, i miss y/n."

tried to date again ONCE and it lasted 2 days because he couldn't stop talking about you.

he's never getting over you. you will always be his greatest love.

© — hopleii

[074calicocat]

✮⋆˙ LIKE YOU'RE HIS...

cw: fauxcest but not really (you'll see), aftermath of piv sex, cockwarming, creampie, reader is me (gulp), reader has daddy issues 🥀, suggestive ending

notes: hello. I put my tears and cum into this so here is your formal warning. I just really want di Leon to be my dad 💔 also if I lock in I want this to have a second part. IF I lock in. Also not proofed in the slightest yikes

"If I was your dad, you know I would never have screamed at you. Right?"

Note to self. Block your dad's number.

You're so sweaty you're surprised Leon hasn't outright called you disgusting. Your hair plastered to your forehead and you're more than sure you reek of that non-so-romantic post sex funk.

"I would love you forever and ever. You'd be my little girl for life and I would never say anything mean about you."

But Leon holds you anyway. Keeps his softened cock nestled in your spent cunt as you lay on his chest, scratching your head like you're his pet. Your hips ache, your head aches, your chest hurts like a bitch. Your eyes sting and your throat is raw from how much you've cried and honestly, you've outdone yourself because you can't think of any other person who can sob themself dry and ride dick like no tomorrow.

Just one of the many womanly charms you possess.

"...yeah, I know," you mumbled, sniffling and wiping the tip of your nose against Leon's chest. Turns out chest hair makes good tissues and you've been wiping your tear-stricken face against him for the past half hour.

You can hear him sigh and his hands slide from your hair down your spine, pulling you all the most tighter against him. He actually smells goods during sex, like musk and aftershave and whiskey. It's not fair he ended up with you: some mopey girl who can't even remember to take her meds on most days to avoid episodes like this.

"You know I love you, right? More than anything?" he whispers to you, so softly it's like he's breathing life into his words.

God dammit it.

"Don't make me cry again, oh my god-" your voice cracks as the tears well up in your eyes again, your face promptly ending back up buried in Leon's chest. His chest rises as he softly chuckles, cooing "dont' cry, baby" at you like you're his...

his...

"I just wish you were my dad sometimes, Leon."

Bingo. How does that one song go? Parades me 'round like his fucking daughter...something, something, it doesn't matter. The point is that's exactly what you want from Leon, even if he fucked you stupid just before and was swearing up again down he was going to give you a baby. And as you raise your damp face away from his body and stare him down, the silver in his beard only makes you more sure of your wishes.

Leon had all the right to push you off, send you to take a shower, and order you to take your meds. Because who actually says things like that? But there's a reason why Leon is dating you even if you're a total square because his eyes light up like you've just flashed him a fancy new bottle of whiskey. "Oh yeah?"

He has that shit-eating look on his face when you say something he really likes and it's like the gates of heaven open up to you. You're like an overeager puppy as you start to nod, the two of you laughing together.

"I'm your man, baby," Leon hums, his hands drifting down to cup your ass. "If you wanna play house, we can play house." His lips drift to your forehead and he lays the most gentle kiss onto your skin, easily distracting you from his cock getting hard while still buried inside you.

Insane work.

"Besides, I always wanted a daughter to spoil like this."

[xlun1ax]

III) Lover scenario

~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~

❥ Being difficult > reader x lover

• Your lover is sad you didn't give attention

Cuddle, attention, kisses, fluff, slight angst, slight suggestive

♡⃕

You're always making him confused.

He doesn't know why you're like this you just are. He remembers clearly yesterday you were acting like a bachelor. All you did in the morning, at night, when he's home, is that you just nodded when he greets you.

Barely a smile.

You barely talked.

You brush him away when he's trying to be affectionate.

Were you mad at him?

He asked if he did something wrong he even apologized for who knows what he did. He wonders if he breathed too loud that got you so distant like this.

But no,

You're just treating him like a roommate.

He's ready to punch a wall.

And that is what exactly he did.

“ouch..” he muttered While treating his wounds.

Yup it didn't work.

You still acted like a roommate. It's pissing him off.

Well it's not like you don't care. You do you just don't know how to approach the subject. Is he stressed with work? Is that why he punched the wall? Is something happening that he can't say out loud?

All you did when he made that hole was grab a medical kit gave it to him. But now sitting beside him his glare just says he's mad.

“you're looking at me as if I punched the hole” you say indifferently while watching the tv. Well that jap certainly did something considering he halted slightly before letting out a sigh “what's the deal.. did I do something?” he asked almost weak while tending his wounds his eyes landed on yours searching for answers.

“what no, what are you saying you did nothing” you replied with a confused tone though now that he spoke you think you got a faint idea. He clenched his fist as if the wound from earlier wasn't enough already he took your wrist pulling you closer with narrowed eyes

“then why are you ignoring me.” his voice low almost glaring at you he needs answers he needs it that's why you saw it a faint melancholy in his eyes. In a way you knew this would happen but you didn't think he would punch a wall just to get your attention now you just feel bad.

It wasn't on purpose.

But would he understand this is just what you normally do?

Your eyes darted examining his face the faint sweat, the almost teared eyes. Just two days of being distant. He's already so tortured. Imagine if you're ignoring him for more.

Why do you do this. Always hurting others.

“... sorry. But i never told you to stay” you muttered softly. But you didn't mean to say that last one out loud. Glancing your pupils at him.

But it was too late, your lover's eyes are already opened wide he gritted his teeth in frustration as a shadow cast upon his face.

There they go, you don't need another person pitying you again, getting mad at you again why won't they understand. You don't want that.

But to your surprise. He smiles at you cupping your face “i guess it's a relief that i decide to consult you early on.. must have been lonely ” he says softly kissing the corner of your eye. “you meant that sorry didn't you? Seriously you're so confusing everyday I feel like I'm learning something new about you” he laughs but you didn't laugh too if anything you feel

Threatened, confused

“y-you're not, mad?” you stuttered by surprise you just didn't get it normally people wouldn't react like this you mean it's not completely out of question it's just puzzling.

“why should i? No matter how difficult you're being i would always sit beside you even if you don't ask” he says with a bright smile.

You paused but without realizing a slight tug of smile was about to make it's way on your face. “hey!” Before he decides to pinch your nose making you let out a scowl instead.

He was frustrated but relief took over as he crashed his lips on your soft pinks it was soft, deep, with longing, and understanding as he pulled back resting his forehead on to yours “be as difficult as you want but seriously don't scare me like that i thought you were gonna break up with me” he chuckles with a small smile but you saw it.

The hint of anxiety in his eyes and language.

The evidence is all there he loves you.

And no amount of self doubt can make you blind to the obvious. In a way you felt in debt for the pain you made him feel, so it's only fair.

“lovely, can make me feel full” you asked with a soft smile and half lided eye. And he knows all too well what that means “as you wish my love” he says softly kissing you slowly laying both of you down on the couch.

As the night grew quite only thing visible for you two was the longing of love. The feeling of belonging.

The feeling of no matter how much you guys are being difficult the other would be there to understand and keep each other company.

And that's beautiful.

⢷

Turns out you just felt overstimulated and got tired with keeping up your image that you decide to ignore everything

~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

A/n:- As always thanks for reading luv you bubs<3

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

©xlun1ax do not copy, translate or post author's work on other platforms

[clairewritesfanfics]

Hear me out . Invincible variants with a powerfull (scarlet watch powers maybe ?) reader that's just pure chaotic evil like am talking world destroying unhinged .

She doesn't care about anything other than getting pure entertainment from the suffering of others . She doesn't care about conquering world or managing the viltrumite empire . Just wanna be out there causing as much chaos as physically and mentally possible for her .

I just know some of the variants would love to have a woman like her on their side .Well some of the others would try and do anything possible to try and tame her .

TRIGGER WARNINGS: torture, murder, violence, mild gore, mild swearing

Inside a dingy little cell in an abandoned asylum, Samantha Eve Wilkins was forced to stand by the chains on her wrists, digging into the flesh of her arms as they kept her upright. This room was empty except for her and the pulley contraption keeping her in place. There were no guards, no special machine or cameras to monitor her. The door wasn’t even locked. It was her captors’ unique way of reminding her that she was no threat. She wasn’t worth jack shit. 

She couldn’t remember how long they’ve been keeping her here. There was no clock or window, and she found herself fading in and out of consciousness far too often to rely on her circadian rhythm to tell the time. Her meals weren’t regular either, sometimes a random person would walk in and force a disgusting broth down her throat, leave for what, thirty, maybe forty minutes, then come back; other times she was left without anything to eat for so long she passed out standing. 

She thought back to where it all started, or better yet, back to who started it all–

You weren’t like anything Earth has seen before. You arrived one day and just started destroying everything. Immortal and the other veteran heroes came to stop you, but it was embarrassing how they couldn’t even land a single blow. When Immortal sought diplomacy in an act of desperation, you snapped your fingers and he was just…gone. The GDA threw everything they could, but you made quick work of them too, throwing their quantum bombs back at them and smiling faintly the entire time.

Eve and the Resistance she formed spent a year formulating a plan to defeat you. But one day, one hot and humid day, while her team stood around their makeshift war room, you appeared out of nowhere. She remembered how stiff her bones became at the mere sight of you. You were smiling at them like a child who poured water on ant hills to see “what would happen.”

“I’m not here to kill you,” you kindly reassured them, tracing a finger on one of their blueprints. “But here’s a tip: my real bedroom is on the fifth floor, not the third.” 

When it was time to finally attack, you gave them a look of disappointment. “Is this it?” 

Eve gave everything she had until the day you killed her. When her powers brought her back to life she woke up here.

“It’s truly disappointing,” your voice interrupted her train of thoughts. She didn’t even notice you coming in.

And you were here with him. Your alleged “bodyguard.” You didn’t actually need anyone protecting you, but this man followed you around and slaughtered anyone that even glanced at you the wrong way.

His eyes weren’t on her but on you. He was always looking at you. It disgusted Eve how much affection his gaze carried, like you hung the moon and stars.

You clicked your tongue. “You had the ability to manipulate matter on a sub-atomic scale and you used it for what, flying? Making pink shields? I thought I found someone who could entertain me for a while longer, but I haven’t even done much and you’re already this hopeless.” You sighed dramatically. “I guess I’m cursed to be alone.” 

The man put a hand over your shoulder and you gave him a smile–a true smile–and patted his cheek. “I’m joking, sweetie.”

Eve found her voice and snidely remarked, “You really are a match made in Hell.”

Like two meerkats, you and your lover glanced at her at the same time. He seemed displeased. But you just laughed and walked over to her. “I do like the sound of that.” You waved your hand and her head exploded. Her blood stopped before it could touch you, they remained suspended in the air like deep red marbles.

“What if she comes back?” He asked. “You killed her over a thousand times before and she recovered every time.”

“Your analytical skills require work, Mark.” The blood marbles lost their shape as they finally fell with gravity. “Think back to all those times I tortured her, I always left her with a partially intact skull at least.”

You raised your knee and then stomped down hard on the gray and white matter scattered in the blood. “But even she can’t come back without a brain.”

The truest definition of a match made in Hell. If there is such a thing as soulmates then you two are proof of that. Designing a species-specific zombie virus? Leave the spreading to him! Death games that force superheroes to kill each other? He’ll be the best enforcer ever! Stealing someone else’s dog? He has your back! He has ripped children out of their mothers’ bellies for your “experiments,” made millions kneel to your name, ravaged planets by your side–there are few lines he will not cross for you. 

NO GOGGLES, head cap, mohawk, shiesty, sinister

He doesn’t understand your obsession. He wished he could get it, that he could let go of his humanity and allow you to fill the void it leaves, but it’s not that easy to change. Even with everything he’s suffered, he still finds himself hoping, yearning for a better and peaceful world where you two can be happy. But he hides that hope, snuffing it almost as much as you do. If being a monster is what it takes to have you in his life then he will throw away everything. 

FULL MASK, maskless, prisoner 

He’s much more stringent than the others. There are limits to how many cities you can level and who you are allowed to hurt. The people who get sucked into your madness beg him for help thinking he’s a hero, but the truth is that he simply does not derive pleasure from torture. He doesn’t join in on your “fun,” usually he’s just there, watching over you. He keeps a loose leash, not because he cares about the lives of mere ants, but because even he knows the folly in being a king without a kingdom. 

FLAXAN, omni-mark, viltrumite, target

a/n: I kept humming the chorus to Evil Love while I wrote this lololol

MASTERLIST | request rules | ask box

image lifted from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-all-alternate-dimension-invincibles-fates/

[quietly-sleeping]

Do you ever think about what god thinks about you? How god sees you? Luo Binghe didn't, not anymore. He keeps his mind firmly on the mortal realms.

He doesn't think about what god would say should he ever step before them, he doesn't think about if god is angry with his actions. Why should he? He is the Heavenly Emperor, the one who stands above all, immortal killer, the last Heavenly Demon.

However, when the mirror arrives at his palace, covered with cloth and tightly bound, he couldn't help himself. He had to know.

The mirror sat in his chambers, empty apart from Luo Binghe. The mirror stood nearly taller and wider than him, the dark cloth hiding the frame from his view. In the low lighting of his rooms, the mirror's shadow stretched, beckoning him to step forward, to tear off the cloth and confront the Creator.

He found himself with his claws poised above the rope in the next moment. Quickly taking a step back, and Luo Binghe eyed it for a moment, it wouldn't be the first time a mind altering object made its way into his possession.

It did not take long for Mobei-jun to arrive and deem it harmless. The demon general did not leave after, simply sitting down on a lounge near the wall. Luo Binghe stepped forward once more, the beckoning merely in his mind, an extra voice in an already crowded chamber.

The mirror was empty as the cloth hit the ground. It did not show him unimaginable divinity nor did it show him. Its surface was dark, absorbing all light and darkening the room around it.

For a horrific moment, everything was silent, from the shift of fabric as Mobei-jun sat up, to the harsh voice of Xin Mo. Luo Binghe was alone in his mind for a long moment, his eyes stuck on the emptiness of the mirror. Its ornate frame paled as the center of gravity shifted.

Then it all came back, as someone on the other side of the mirror chuckled. Mobei-jun was by hia side in the next moment, Xin Mo unsheathed and familiar in Luo Binghe's hand.

"Are you the Creator?" Luo Binghe did not hesitate, he did not stare for a moment, stunned by the mere sound of the chuckle from the mirror.

"The Creator?" The voice responded, their voice the crashing waves, the scream of a violent death, the clash of swords. "Is that what mortals call him these days?"

The tip of Xin Mo dipped only for a moment as Luo Binghe fought the overwhelming urge to fall to his knees. He would not, he had not for centuries. He would not fall to his knees for some immortal hiding behind a mirror.

"Is it not you?" Luo Binghe got out eventually, his voice tight as his eyes blurred. Everything has begun to burn, his bloodmites boiling alive under his skin. "No," the voice drawled "I don't think i could quite create anything."

Roaring filled Luo Binghe's mind, the sound of every monster he'd ever stood before. The sound of anything he'd once considered his end. The gentle sound of a teacup being placed down, the sound of wind in his ears, the slow unsheathing of a sword. Xin Mo wavered.

"Are you alright?" The voice echoed through his mind, cutting through it all. "Oh, one moment." Everything stopped, and Luo Binghe could breathe again. His eyes drifted from the mirror for only a moment, to see Mobei-jun trembling next to him, pale and sweating.

"Sorry," The voice, now recognizable as a man's echoed from the mirror again. "It's been a while since I spoke with anyone from you're realms."

"Who are you." Luo Binghe croaked, his voice stolen by the agony the ripped through his skin. The voice chuckled for a moment, "Don't you remember me? You stayed within my home for some time." Luo Binghe bared his teeth, sharp and inhuman. "How would I know you, I have never seen this mirror before. I have certainly not stayed within your home."

The voice hummed, "Well my champion, you emerged from the depths of the Endless Abyss, didn't you?" Every exhausted muscle in Luo Binghe's body tensed further, a cold finger trailing down his spine. "You met me down there, but it has been a while."

Something within the darkness shifted, "I am Yuan." The name echoed with snarls of beasts underneath, the cracking of the earth as it tore apart. "I am your patron, and the one often called Destruction by mortals."

"Why." Was all Luo Binghe could bare to speak, his bloodmites sluggishly moving through him. "You were a gift to me," Destruction, Yuan, replied. "I try to give my gifts their due attention."

Luo Binghe felt painfully cold, he had thought about what god would think of him, what they would say to him. This wasn't the god he had wanted, this god's attention would do nothing but send him to the depths of despair, over and over again.

"Especially you," The god continued, "Qinghua made you especially for me, and I intend to see the rest of your life."

ao3

[airenyah]

JD: Baby Tee Lore

(^in reply to this post)

hoooooo boy okay buckle up... @watchingblsnowandforever @cornflowershade

let me preface this by saying that i do not have tik tok so i have absolutely zero clue what is going on over there. everything i know i have picked up through osmosis on other plattforms.

sooooo: seems like there was/is a tiktok challenge going around based on "baby tee" by galchanie where people dance to it sexily, showing off their waist?? as i said, i don't have tiktok so this is my assumption here. btw, here's a screenshot from the original mv, to provide some extra context. note the crop tops:

now that we have all this out of the way, let's get to the actual lore...

(also idk if this is the complete story, but these are the parts of the lore i am aware of/that i remember. there's a chance i missed something)

on march 18th, 2025 dunk posts this video on tiktok:

it's a fake-out. dunk does not show off his waist. joong comments:

(note: as of me making this post on may 17th, 2025 the comment seems to have disappeared from dunk's video as far as i can see)

translation:

joong: i wasn't expecting anything, but I'm disappointed dunk: huh?

a fan posts a screenshot of this on twitter and comments:

(source)

translation:

fan: what was p'joong hoping for? 👀 [screenshot]

joong sees this tweet and following thread ensues:

(1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6)

translation:

fan 1: what was p'joong hoping for? 👀 [screenshot] joong: a hot dance in a crop top fan 2: but joong, you'll be possessive of dunk again 😔🤟🏻 joong: i'm not posessive! he can dance! go on hahahaha fan 3: not possessive because you wanna see it too, huh? 👀 joong: yes

dunk sees (some of) the tweets and also has something to say on that:

(1 / 2 / 3)

translation:

fan 1: what was p'joong hoping for? 👀 [screenshot] joong: a hot dance in a crop top dunk: show me, prof

joong then replies with a few videos of his own:

(1 / 2)

translation:

dunk: show me, prof joong: here na krub, student

unfortunately tumblr won't let me add more than one video per post, but you can find them in his tweet if you wanna watch them

joong also replies to another fan's comment on the situation:

(1 / 2)

translation:

fan: why does it seem like everyone (joong) is hoping that my child will dance to baby tee while also wearing an outfit that shows off his waist? i'm possessive, i don't want my child to dance, but if it's baby shark, it's fine joong: ohhhh sathu i hope dunk won't dance

the next day, on march 19th, joong posts his own baby tee challenge on tiktok and cross-posts it on twitter too:

(find the video on youtube here too)

again, terribly sorry, but tumblr won't let me add any more video, so you'll have to deal with more links. if you have trouble viewing any of the videos let me know and i'll cross-post them on tumblr

on march 30th, 2025 dunk has an event in which he is is taught to dance the baby tee dance and is made to dance it:

(fancam here)

note: he has his shirt tucked in and doesn't pull it out. once again we do not see dunk revealing his waist for baby tee

the next day, on march 31th, joong and dunk are on their book fair fansign. at one point joong says he heard that dunk danced baby tee the day before. dunk confirms. joong asks "how do you dance it?" dunk says "i forgot" and joong proceeds to teach it to dunk

(unfortunately i can't understand the comment that dunk makes afterwards, but i think i hear the word "shirt")

find the moment on youtube here (from 5:12 onwards if it doesn't open on the time stamp automatically) or on twitter here and here

(source screenshot)

note: once again dunk has his shirt tucked in, giving him a perfect excuse to not show off his waist yet again. joong still hasn't gotten to see dunk dance baby tee properly and sexily in a crop top

on april 5th joong does a twitter space in which a fan asks if there'll be a chance for "dunk baby tee". joong comments: "what's that? what's 'dunk baby t'? ohhh! dunk baby tee. the dance? has he danced it already? dunk might have danced it already"

(time stamp 22:15)

all of this leading us to today, D1 of lol fan fest 2025 on may 17th, 2025, where they surprise us by doing the full song on stage:

(video here)

joong and the fans finally got to see dunk dance baby tee properly and in a crop top even. everyone and their mother and especially joong can finally rest

and there you have it. the lore behind baby tee. and the reason why this performance is a Big Deal and very iconic™ in its own way, even if (to outsiders) it may not seem as such

also: minus points to dunk for straightifying the song by changing the lyrics from "boy you're my baby tee-ee-ee" to "girl you're my baby tee-ee-ee" and many plus points to joong for actually keeping the "boy" in "boy you fit in me"

[beef-brisket]

Adam looked down. He was really hoping to find Lilith for Lucifer: But... you seem so sad.

G!Adam: Because he IS sad, dumbass.

Lucifer wanted to growl and curse at the Adam inside his head, but he didn't want to scare Adam: I'm... I'm okay, Adam. I promise.

Adam: You don't look okay, Lu. You haven't since this weird skip- do you miss Eden, to?

Lucifer felt himself tear up. He missed Eden more than ever. Especially since Adam came back the way he was.

G!Adam: A paradise that you ruined. You could have everything, but you destroyed it, because daddy said "no" about you falling for the first bitch.

G!Adam: You only see a second chance now he's forgotten the worst parts of you?! Of himself?! He doesn't even remember his kids, Lucifer! The bastards he was forced to have, he was forced to raise- but he still fucking loved?! They think he's DEAD! Because. Of. You!

The first man slowly tried to pull away, but he was firmly in Lucifer's arms. The Devil's claws were starting to dig into his back.

Adam: Uh- Lu?

G!Adam: Either way, your bullshit plan failed. You didn't save Eve. You forced him to bite HER apple, it didn't even fucking do anything! And she suffered for it! He suffered! Not that you care, right? You only came back for Eve... didn't you?

Lucifer: D-Didn't want to leave her with-.

G!Adam: Me...? Do you think i wanted her?! I felt EVERYTHING when she was made! I prayed to you- i CRIED for you! But you didn't come! My own sister didn't come! No one protected me! Don't you think i wanted to be more?! Why wasn't I worth your fucking time?! Your concern?! Your fucking apple?!

Lucifer: ...She said you weren't worth it...

G!Adam: ...And that. Right there. Is what makes you the fucking Devil... I gave you everything. Everything I had. She hurt me... and instead, you believed her. She... you have no idea what she's done to me... and here I am, wondering the streets of this cesspit, looking for your wife. Do you remember how you looked at me, the day i found you two? Like, I was the mistake and scum she said I was. You thought I was a monster... she did those things to ME! You know... even after all this time... I still don't know why you hated me so much... when all I did was love you.

In Your Head

Lucifer sighed as he held the guitar that he took from the battlefield. It was Adams guitar and aside from a few scratches it looked like it was in perfect condition.

Lucifer: I'm going to miss you old friend.

Though, was friend the right word? Adam was so much more than a friend to Lucifer.

Watching him get stabbed like that had been very hard.

Was it though?

Lucifer snapped his head up, eyes wide as he looked at the angel he thought to be long dead, his helmet gone and golden blood staining his robe.

Lucifer: A-Adam? What, how are you here!?

Adam smiled at him and it was too sweet for the Adam of today the one that he turned into. But not the Adam he knew in Eden.

Adam: Oh come on Luci, you're smarter than that. No one comes back from an angelic blade to the heart. Thanks for that by the way.

That nickname sliced through his core, he hadn't heard it in so long he almost forgot that's what Adam used to call him.

Lucifer: You're not real are you?

Adam: Bingo baby! Awww, it's actually sweet. You miss me so much that I actually take up space in that head of yours.

Lucifer: Why are you so..... Nice? But look like that?

Adam shrugged and moved to sit down beside him: Probably because you don't really remember what I looked like in Eden, but more how I acted. So you just kinda...... Married the past with the present. I don't know boo, it's your mind.

Lucifer felt Adam touch his hair as if to tuck it behind his ear, but since he wasn't real the hand just went right through him.

Lucifer: I don't get it, you weren't like this in Eden.

Adam: Maybe I'm a version you've always wanted.

That made sense in a way.

Lucifer: Why would I want a polite slightly flirty version of you?

Adam smiled gently and leaned in: Come on Luci, you know why. Stop lying to yourself.~

His breath hitched in his throat, sure he had always thought about what could have been between them but...... It was always just a fantasy.

Adam: A fantasy you could have made real.~

Lucifer: You didn't want me.

Adam: How would you know? You never asked or tried. You could have had me all to yourself.

Lucifer: I could have?

Adam: Yeah. But now you never will.

@fanofstuff01 @beef-brisket

[nephynes]

now we need a pt.2 where she tells sunghoon that she stopped taking pills and then all hell broke loose

it really did need a part 2 (just with a little twist)

MDNI

part 1 here

══════════════════════════

You noticed the first time when the pack only had three left. It was a quiet morning, you were still tucked in your sheets, barely awake, your body sore in that sweet way that meant he'd had you up against the wall the night before. He was still asleep, arm flung lazily over your waist, head nuzzled into your neck like always.

And you remembered.

You blinked at the tiny foil circles on your nightstand and whispered, "Hoonie, can you go by the pharmacy this weekend? I'm running low."

"Mhm," he hummed into your skin, lips brushing your shoulder. "I'll go tonight."

It didn't seem like a big ask. He always got them for you. The pharmacy was one town over, weird prescription rules, out-of-stock chains nearby but he never complained. If anything, he insisted on doing it. Said he didn't like the idea of you going alone. Said he wanted to be the one taking care of you.

You liked that. You really liked knowing he was the one who kept you safe. That he knew your cycle better than you did. You never questioned it.

Until it started happening again.

You brought it up two days later. Then again three days after that. Each time, his answer was the same — a little nod, a "don't worry, I'll get them," followed by a kiss to your forehead or a squeeze of your thigh, and that was that.

But the pills never came.

And now you're sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, blanket wrapped around your waist, legs trembling from how hard you just came against your own fingers and nothing feels like enough.

Your body's hot, worse than usual this time. Your nipples ache, your thighs twitch, and your skin feels like it's crawling with need. The kind of need only he can fix. And you already know why.

Because it's day 14 of your cycle, you're not on the pill.

You're ovulating and you’re sure he knows it.

You stare blankly at the empty blister pack in your palm. The pale blue foil catches the light, mocking you.

Something's off. You know it. He hasn't forgotten. Sunghoon doesn't forget. He's meticulous, always ten steps ahead, always watching over you, always running that hand down your back in bed and whispering, "You're safe with me, baby. I've got you."

You're not scared. Not really. But something coils tight in your chest as you pad out into the living room and see him on the couch, lazy in sweats, one hand resting on his chest, the other on his phone.

He looks up the second he hears your footsteps.

"Hey," he says gently. "You okay?"

You hold up the empty pack, voice tight. "You still didn't go."

He doesn't say anything right away.

Just sets his phone down.

Sits up.

"I meant to," he offers. "I just... forgot again."

You stare at him. Waiting for a smirk. A tell. Something. But all you see is that calm, steady gaze, the same one he gives you when he's watching you undress. Or when you're riding him and don't realize he's memorizing every whimper.

"You don't forget," you whisper.

He sighs.

Runs a hand through his hair.

"No," he says finally. "I don't."

The words hit you like a pin drop in a silent room.

You blink. "So... you didn't forget?"

His throat bobs. He leans back slowly, knees spread, eyes on you like he's already imagining you falling to them.

"I kept meaning to. But the longer I didn't... the harder it was to go."

You don't move. You don't breathe. Because you're starting to understand.

"You knew I was almost out."

"I knew."

"You knew I'd ovulate this week."

He nods.

"And you didn't go."

He doesn't answer.

The air turns heavy. You can feel it pressing down on you. All that need swirling low in your belly flares — not just arousal now, but disbelief, betrayal, want. So much want you think it might break you.

You cross the room slowly, blanket still wrapped around you, and straddle his lap without a word. His hands don't move. Not yet. They sit at your hips, thumbs stroking your skin softly, reverently.

"Tell me why," you breathe.

He looks up at you like you already know the answer.

"Because I wanted you like this," he says, voice hoarse. "Wet. Needy. Desperate."

You let out a shaky breath. Your body's already betraying you, pressing into him, grinding slow circles against the half-hard bulge in his pants.

"That's fucked up."

"I know, baby." He sighs out the words, "I didn't want to."

There's a snap in the air between you. Like something invisible just cracked clean in half.

"You wanted this," you whisper.

He doesn't even pretend to lie.

"I did."

You stare at him, stunned. Heat surges down your spine, your core clenching without permission, like your body's already made the decision your mind hasn't caught up with yet.

Sunghoon notices.

Of course he does.

His hands slide up under your shirt, slowly dragging the hem higher until it rests above your hips, baring your soft thighs in his lap. He breathes in sharply when he sees there's nothing underneath.

"Fuck."

You shouldn't do this. You know you shouldn't but you feel too full of want, too fogged with hormones. You should get up. You should fight him.

Instead, you lean in, grip his jaw with both hands and kiss him so hard your teeth knock. He groans, mouth opening under yours, tongue sliding in deep, desperate. His hands clamp down hard on your hips and pull you flush against his cock, grinding you over him once, twice, until you're gasping.

"Let me," you beg against his lips. "Let me ride you. I—I need it."

His eyes flutter shut. His voice comes out strangled.

"Fuck, please don’t say that."

"I do."

"You don't."

You rock against him again, dragging your bare cunt over the thin fabric of his sweats, soaking him through. He bites back a moan.

"I'm not wearing a condom," he warns, but his hands are already tugging your shirt off, dragging it over your head.

"You never put one on."

"I haven't replaced your pills."

"I know."

He freezes.

His eyes search yours, mouth parted, breath uneven.

"Say it again."

"I know I'm not on the pill," you whisper, trembling. "I know what I'm doing."

His voice breaks.

"Fuck—"

In a second, he's lifting you, maneuvering you under him, kneeing the sweats down just enough to free himself. His cock slaps up against his stomach, thick, hard, flushed red and leaking at the tip and you whimper at the sight of it, eyes wide.

He doesn't tease. He doesn't drag it over your folds or play with you like he usually does. He just lines up and presses in, slow, steady, impossibly deep.

You cry out, nails digging into his shoulders. He groans low in your ear, arms caging you beneath him, breath ragged.

"God, you're always so tight—"

You're already clenching around him, your walls fluttering from the stretch. He holds himself still once he's fully inside, trembling.

"I shouldn't," he pants. "I know I shouldn't. But you feel so fucking good." “Doesn’t matter how many times I fuck your needy little cunt op—” “Oh fuck! Baby stop clenching.”

"Don't stop," you plead.

He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.

You choke on a moan.

He does it again.

Again.

Harder.

"You feel that?" he growls, voice guttural. "That's me, filling you raw."

You sob, nodding.

"And you're gonna let me, aren't you?" His hand cups your jaw, forces you to look at him. "You're gonna let me stay inside. Gonna take everything I give you."

"Sunghoon—"

"You want me to cum in you?" he asks, eyes wild. "Want me to fill you up and not pull out?"

You cry out something that sounds like yes. Or maybe please. You don't know anymore.

He groans a dark, possessive sound and fucks into you harder, deeper, panting between words.

"I'm gonna ruin you. You know that, right?"

You whimper, nodding frantically.

"You're mine," he growls. "And if I get you pregnant... good."

You moan, high and wrecked, your back arching as he drills into you.

"Good," he repeats, snapping his hips forward. "You were made to take me like this."

His hand slips between your bodies, finds your clit and rubs tight circles until your legs shake, and that's it, the pressure explodes, white-hot and overwhelming, your orgasm tearing through you like a dam breaking.

Sunghoon curses under his breath, buries himself to the hilt, and finally gives in knowing he’s made you cum, he moans your name as he spills into you, hot and deep and endless.

He doesn't pull out.

Not for a long time.

Not even when you start to come down and blink up at him, dazed and dizzy, your thighs still twitching around him.

He just kisses your temple and mutters, "We'll talk about pills later."

══════════════════════════

• a/n: well sunghoon’s definitely gonna be a daddy now 🤷🏽‍♀️

[writinginatree]

The Book Can Wait

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/Xaden Riorson/reader

Summary: Finishing the book you're reading proves impossible with Bodhi and Xaden next to you, needy for attention and unable to keep their hands to themselves.

Warnings: Cousincest, making out, allusions to sex

Written for @empyreanevents's Bodhi Week Day 7: Free Day. I had something entirely else planned for today but it turned out terrible so you're getting this instead because I saw @xadensbiceps and @theoppositequeens write Bodhi x Xaden this week and got the urge to join the fun (except I made it a reader-insert because apparently I don't know how to write anything else lol)

AO3

Fully engrossed in the book propped up against your pillow, you ignore the dip of the mattress where Xaden's elbow digs into it near your waist as he leans over you. You can feel his body heat against your back, just distracting enough that you stumble over a word and have to restart the sentence you were reading.

To your left, Bodhi also shifts. His fingers — previously tracing nonsense shapes on your arm and shoulder — still for a second, then leave your skin altogether. You instantly miss the contact.

Briefly glancing over your shoulder to see what they're up to, you find Xaden and Bodhi locked in a kiss. Both their torsos are bare, miles of soft, brown skin and toned muscle on full display, practically begging to be touched.

Fuck. Do they have to look so stupidly hot while you're just trying to finish your book?

It takes all your willpower to avert your eyes and focus back on the text before you. Only two more chapters, you remind yourself — less, actually, seeing as you're already halfway through one of them. If you manage to ignore the distractingly perfect men on either side of you for just a little longer, you can finish the book and then focus solely on them.

Naturally, that plan doesn't work out.

You manage a single page before one of them nips at your shoulder, ripping you out of the story again. A kiss to the same spot follows, then fingers trailing down your spine and soft curls brushing your arm as Bodhi's head enters your field of vision and obscures the view of your book, his hand coming up to caress your cheek.

He smiles up at you like the very definition of innocence — acting as if he doesn't know damn well what he's doing.

Xaden kisses his way along your shoulder up to your neck, his hand sliding under your shirt.

Your eyes squeeze shut.

"Guys," you whine. "I only have like a dozen pages left. After I'm done reading you'll have my full attention, I promise."

"Oh, I think we already have your attention," Xaden's low voice sounds right against your ear.

He's right, of course. It's impossible to concentrate on anything else with the two of them being all over you like this.

Opening your eyes, your gaze meets Bodhi's.

He's half lying on your book, dark curls obscuring the words, but you know he's taken care to not wrinkle the pages lying down. He takes your jaw in his hand, gently guiding your face down to his. His mouth brushes yours in a barely-there kiss.

"Your book can wait," Bodhi mutters against your lips. "We can't."

"Yes you can. You just don't want to."

Unsuccessfully fighting a smile, you don't sound nearly as stern as you'd intended. It simply isn't possible to be irritated at their interrupting your precious reading time — not with the way Bodhi is purposefully being all adorable while Xaden continues to cover your neck in open-mouthed kisses.

Bodhi shrugs and claims your mouth with his own, effectively shutting down any further retorts. With his tongue roaming your mouth, it gets increasingly hard to remember why you would even want to complain in the first place.

Releasing you from the kiss, Bodhi expectantly looks up at you.

You know if you really insisted on going back to your book, he and Xaden would accept it. They could keep each other occupied. But you also know your thoughts would keep drifting back to them and the fun you'd be missing out on. There is no resisting the temptation they provide — Bodhi sprawled before you like a mischievous angel, Xaden wrapped around you from behind, nuzzling against your neck like the devil whispering in your ear.

With a sigh, you pull the book out from under Bodhi's head and close it. You'll just have to read the remaining chapter another time, no matter how badly you want to know how the story ends.

"Alright."

Bodhi's beaming smile makes it instantly worth it. Still, you can't help but tease them a little, jokingly complaining that the two of them are like a couple of needy puppies begging for attention.

Payback follows instantly in the form of Xaden biting your neck — hard. If he's trying to beat the puppy allegations that's not the most efficient move, but before you can say so, he starts to suck on the sensitive skin and the thought dissolves in a rush of warm pleasure.

"What ha— nhh— happened to not leaving any marks?" you gasp.

Bodhi answers for his cousin, locking eyes with him over your shoulder, the grin that spreads over Bodhi's face mirroring the one you feel against your neck. "We can't leave marks on each other, but we can leave marks on you, actually."

Xaden's hum of agreement vibrates against your skin. His mouth glides higher up your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Ah. That's reasonable, I guess. But—" You interrupt yourself with a breathy moan when Bodhi licks up the other side of your neck. "But hardly fair. You could let me mark up one of you, at least."

"Nope."

Though you're not exactly happy about it, you understand Xaden's reasoning, and can't claim to disagree. Rumors are the last thing the three of you need, and if someone were to see all three of you with lovebites at the same time, rumors would ensue. And even if it's just you and one of them alternatingly, there would be talk. People probably wouldn't jump right to the conclusion of a polyamorous relationship, but they might think you're hooking up with both of them behind the other's back. Either way, it would only lead to unnecessary drama.

"Aww, come on, Xay! I want hickeys too," Bodhi pouts.

"Next time. We can take turns," Xaden decides. "But we have to be careful it's really just one of us getting hickeys, and not all the time."

Bodhi grumbles something unintelligible and pulls you on top of him. His hands are at your waist, toying with the hem of your shirt.

You sit up and lift your arms, silent permission for him to take it off, which he wastes no time in doing.

The fabric isn't even fully over your head when Xaden's hands are already on you, following the curve of your ribcage with what feels like reverence, like no matter how often he's already done so, he can't wait to explore every inch of exposed skin again.

Bodhi's teeth scrape over your throat, hands joining Xaden's, groping and caressing until you can no longer tell whose touch is whose. It doesn't matter. There is only their skin against yours, searing kisses and mingled breaths. Their lips on yours and each other's, Xaden's bare chest warm against your back, your hands in Bodhi's hair.

Angling your head to give him better access to your neck, your gaze falls on your book, laying abandoned on your pillow. It'll have to wait a little longer — in this moment, reality is much more appealing than any story could ever hope to be.