#i tried to do a frame for it to make it look like this is a piture Tango has framed

[bitchface24-7]

THE SEDUCTIVE PROFESSOR VIKTOR

synopsis: Professor Viktor, the most sought out and dreamt of professor at Piltover Academy. Luckily for you… you’re his favourite student.

warnings: age gap (viktor’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), power imbalance, dom!viktor, I tried my best to make this gender-neutral, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, no beta we die like most of the characters in Arcane

genre: m/f, m/m (however you label yourself, I hope you can read this and enjoy it!)

Professor Viktor hasn’t been a professor for very long at the academy. After he and his partner Jayce Talis revolutionized machinery and magic in the form of Hextech, well… the academy and the council wanted their genius shared with the younger generations.

“The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” became a hit. This course had the highest approval ratings, least amount of absences, and highest amount of A students in the history of the academy.

Viktor’s proud of his students work, everyone else sees it as it is. Everyone is doing amazing due to their hot professor.

His attitude, his humour, his accent, his beauty. Professor Viktor is sin incarnate and doesn’t seem to realize it. The dreamy sighs, the lustful gazes. It all goes over his head like water down a ducks back.

Having Jayce come in as a guest speaker doesn’t help in the slightest.

The two men are gorgeous. Jayce with his broad shoulders, messy hair, and wonderful beard. A few strands of grey focused on his temples.

Viktor with his long hair, sultry eyes, lithe frame that’s mostly delectable legs. He dresses wonderfully too. All tailored to fit his frame perfectly. His tiny waist seems almost impossibly small.

Viktor tries his best to be impartial to his students; neutral as a good teacher should be… but there’s something about you.

You’re bright, intelligent, well-spoken. Overall beautiful. He can’t stop looking at you during lectures, he can’t stop thinking about you in the privacy of his own home; in his office as well.

You always pay attention in class, you ask riveting and inspiring questions, you continue the conversation Viktor is desperately trying to create to invigorate the students the way he and Jayce were all those years ago.

Your pretty eyes, soft looking lips, shiny hair. The way the academy uniform compliments your figure in all the right ways. He’s a man obsessed.

He knows you’re at least physically attracted to him. The way you bite your lip when you look at him, when you shyly look down when he compliments your work with a sultry “good job”

How you jolt in your seat from daydreaming when he comes up behind you and whispers in your ear to pay attention.

He wants to see how you react to other stimuli. A practical theory if you will.

Will you be good and listen to Viktor’s every command? Or will you be bratty; needing to be put over Viktor’s lap and your ass reddened to be taught a lesson. Would you prefer his hand, a ruler, or maybe even his cane?

How pretty would you look on your knees, taking his cock down your throat? Would your eyes water? Would you choke? Or are you secretly a slut, who can take it no problem.

Are you a moaner, a whimperer, a screamer, or a crier?

He knows his blatant desires for you are cementing you as his “favourite student” you can do things others can only dream of.

You can come to class late and not need a valid excuse, you can borrow any materials without reasoning, you can stay as late as you want during office hours; when anyone else would be politely but firmly told that their time was up.

People have noticed, everyone but you it seems. The rest of the class can’t help but envy you. How the hell do you have such a drop dead gorgeous man wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even realize it!

You’re going to realize it soon, when Viktor tells you to stay behind after class. That he has a theory he’d like to discuss with you.

That theory leaves you with your face feeling like it’s on fire, your throat sore, your body aching in a delicious way, your legs bowed, and your appearance completely disheveled.

Viktor gets the answers he’s been desperately craving and is not disappointed. He can’t wait for the semester to be over. He wants you, and he can pursue you when he’s no longer your professor.

He just gave you a taste of what he’ll give you everyday if you agree to be his.

(You’ll agree to be his. He rocked your shit)

[thesecondhandwoman]

I’ll think of the jist

When reader is well enough to work for ambessa she uses a rollator (walker with like a table/seat) so she can carry multiple things at once that she couldn’t with a cane.

reader interrupts a meeting quietly to give Ambessa something, the room is full of big strong people who look down on sick ppl even if it’s genetic (:/)

They comment on her ability to work and ambessas like Nuh uh she fine brotha and Ambessa thinks nothing of it, reader thinks a lot of it and can’t sleep

lol thank you goodbye

MORE THAN ENOUGH

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: Being Ambessa’s assistant and having chronic pain was difficult, but it was always worse when you tried to help on more manageable days only be to told that you are incapable.

Request: @possessedmagpie

A/N: This is part two of Chronically Ill

The soft light of morning slipped through the towering windows of Ambessa Medarda’s estate, a golden glow painting the cold stone walls. The days always started early in Noxus, the city that never slept, but for you, mornings weren’t a signal to begin. They were another checkpoint in the never-ending cycle of managing your body’s rebellion against itself.

You shifted beneath the thick covers, testing your limbs carefully. The ache that usually gripped you like iron shackles had ebbed to a low thrum today. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable. Relief flickered in your chest, tempered by caution. You had learned long ago that even “good days” came with limits.

The other constant in your mornings lay beside you, Ambessa, her powerful frame still as she slept, her features softened in the pale light. Despite the countless demands on her time and energy, she always made space for you. She had stayed the night again, likely at your insistence, despite her busy schedule. She’d never admit it, but you suspected she worried about you constantly.

As if sensing your gaze, Ambessa stirred, her amber eyes blinking open. A small smile tugged at her lips as she caught you watching her.

“Good morning, little one,” she murmured, her voice low and warm, still laced with sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, voice hushed, as though speaking too loudly would break the delicate peace between you.

Her eyes searched your face, her brow furrowing slightly. “How are you feeling?” she asked, the question laden with genuine care.

You considered her words, stretching carefully to test the limits of your body. “Better,” you said after a moment. “Not great, but I think I can manage today.”

Ambessa propped herself up on one elbow, her expression skeptical but not dismissive. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I want to try. I can’t stand feeling useless, Ambessa.”

“You’re never useless,” she said firmly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Your value isn’t measured by how much you can do. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” you murmured, though the weight in your chest said otherwise.

Her hand lingered against your cheek, her touch both grounding and reassuring. “Alright,” she said after a moment. “But promise me you’ll be careful. No pushing yourself too hard. If you need to stop, you stop. Understood?”

“Understood,” you said softly, leaning into her palm.

She pressed a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering just long enough to make your heart ache in the best way.

By mid-morning, the estate was bustling with activity. Servants and guards moved swiftly through the halls, their boots echoing against the polished stone floors. The sheer size of the estate could be overwhelming, even intimidating, but today you felt determined.

The rollator was your lifeline, its sturdy frame and built-in seat allowing you to navigate the estate without collapsing. It wasn’t a perfect solution—there were still moments when the pain flared unexpectedly, threatening to rob you of the strength to keep going—but it gave you a sense of independence.

Today, you carried an important correspondence marked with the crest of General Vessar. The message had arrived early, its contents urgent enough to require Ambessa’s immediate attention. Despite the challenges of moving through the estate, you were determined to deliver it personally.

The grand hall where Ambessa was meeting her advisors loomed ahead, the heavy double doors closed but not impenetrable. Pausing just outside, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the ache radiating through your legs.

The moment you entered, the room fell silent. The rollator’s wheels squeaked faintly as you moved across the polished floor, your presence a disruption in the midst of their intense discussions.

At the head of the long table, Ambessa sat tall and imposing, her amber eyes sharp and focused. The sight of her sent a pang of comfort through your chest; she was the one constant in a world that often felt too harsh to navigate.

“Ambessa,” you said, your voice soft but steady.

Her gaze snapped to you, her expression shifting immediately. The hard edge she wore in these meetings melted away, replaced by a warmth that seemed out of place amidst the cold, calculating figures around her.

“Little one,” she greeted, her voice low and tender.

You grabbed the sealed letter on the table of your rollator as you moved it a bit closer and held it out to her. “This arrived this morning. From General Vessar.”

She shifted in her chair slightly as she turned to face you, taking the letter from your hands with a subtle nod. Her fingers brushed yours briefly—a fleeting touch that carried more reassurance than words ever could.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft enough that only you could hear.

But the moment was short-lived.

“She’s still working for you?” a voice called from the far end of the table.

Your chest tightened.

The man who spoke leaned back in his chair, his tone dripping with disbelief. “How can someone in her condition handle the responsibilities you’ve given her?”

Another advisor chimed in, her voice quieter but no less cutting. “It does seem unwise. The demands of this role require someone—”

“Capable,” the first man interrupted. “Someone who isn’t constantly compromised.”

The words struck like a blade, each syllable carving into your carefully built armor.

Ambessa’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood, her movements deliberate and commanding.

“Enough,” she said, her voice sharp and unforgiving.

The room fell silent.

Ambessa’s gaze swept over the advisors like a storm about to break. Her presence was a force of nature, and for a moment, you pitied the fools who dared challenge her judgment.

“You will not question her competence,” she said, her tone cold enough to freeze fire. “Do any of you doubt my ability to judge who is fit for their role?”

No one dared respond.

“Let me make something very clear,” she continued, her voice like a blade. “Y/N has proven her worth time and time again. She is stronger and more useful than any of you could hope to be, and I will not tolerate such ignorance in my presence.”

Her words were a shield, protecting you from their scorn, but they couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes. You wanted to speak, to defend yourself, but the weight of their judgment was crushing.

Ambessa turned to you, her expression softening. “Go rest, little one,” she said gently.

You nodded, your throat too tight to form words. As you left the room, the rollator steady beneath your hands, you couldn’t shake the sting of their words.

Back in your quarters, the pain returned, not the physical ache in your joints, but the sharp, unrelenting sting of humiliation and self-doubt. You sank onto the edge of your bed, burying your face in your hands.

The echoes of their voices replayed in your mind, each word a reminder of what you couldn’t do, of how the world saw you. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you gave, it was never enough.

You didn’t hear the door open, but you felt the mattress dip beside you. A familiar hand rested on your shoulder, warm and grounding.

“Little one,” Ambessa said softly.

You wiped at your eyes, turning away from her. “I’m fine,” you lied.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until your head rested against her shoulder.

“They don’t understand,” she said after a moment. “They never will. But you don’t need their approval.”

“I just… I wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I wanted to prove I could still do something right.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re more than enough. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

Her words wrapped around you like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of despair.

“I’m tired,” you admitted, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your chest. “I’m so tired, Ambessa.”

“I know,” she murmured, her voice full of quiet empathy. “But you don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here, I always will be.”

You whimpered a little, holding back tears as you sunk into her arms as she lied down on the bed with you, stroking the back of your head for comfort.

She stayed with you long into the night, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. When sleep finally came, it was with the comforting knowledge that no matter how heavy the world felt, Ambessa would always be there to share the burden.

A/N: I got a peace offering to write this, loving it.

[rafeysbangs]

ꪆৎ𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖↷ ex!bf!rafe sneaks into your room late at night...

warnings ; MDNI !!, ex!bf!rafe, soft!rafe i guess, oral f. receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, rafe calls reader baby, creampie, aftercare ! yippee

notes ; phew... enjoyyy !

the cool night air swept through your open balcony door, carrying the distant hum of cicadas. you were curled up in bed, trying to focus on the book in your hands, when the faint scrape of shoes against metal made your heart leap.

"rafe?" you whispered harshly, your pulse quickening as his familiar frame hauled itself over the edge of the balcony.

"don’t freak out," he said quickly, holding his hands up as if to calm you. his hair was a mess, his eyes wild, and he looked more desperate than you’d ever seen him.

"are you insane? you can’t be here, especially not at this hour," you hissed, glancing nervously at your door.

but rafe wasn’t listening. he crossed the room in two long strides, his voice cracking as he said, "i had to see you. i can’t- i can’t do this without you."

you folded your arms, trying to stand your ground, even as your chest tightened at the raw edge in his tone. "we broke up, rafe. i broke up with you. and you know why. i can’t keep pretending it doesn’t kill me every time i see you flirting with someone else."

"i wasn’t-" he started, but you cut him off with a sharp look.

"don’t lie to me. i saw you. over and over again. it’s too much, rafe. i couldn’t do it anymore."

his hands raked through his hair, his frustration evident. "it wasn’t what you thought, i swear. i’m... i’m a mess without you, okay? i’ve been losing my mind since you left. no one else matters- no one but you. i’m obsessed with you, and i’ll prove it. i’ll do whatever it takes to make it right."

"rafe," you began, your voice softer now, but he stepped closer, his hands gripping yours like his life depended on it.

"it’ll never happen again. i swear on everything. just... just give me one more chance," he pleaded, his blue eyes locking onto yours, filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

you tried to resist, tried to remind yourself why you ended things, but the way he looked at you, like you were his entire world, made it nearly impossible.

"i don’t know if i can trust you," you said quietly, your voice trembling.

"you can," he said, his voice steady. "i’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if i have to."

before you could argue further, his lips were on yours, cutting off your words in a kiss so desperate, so full of longing, that it left you breathless. your resolve crumbled as his hands cupped your face, pulling you closer.

the kiss deepened, his lips trailing to your jaw and down your neck as your back hit the bed. he hovered over you, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured your name like a prayer.

your fingers tangled in his hair as his lips travelled down your body, heat pooled in your lower stomach watching him grow closer to the waistband of your tiny pyjama shorts.

he stopped there, slowly littering kisses as he looked up at you, you chewed at your bottom lip as your eyes were stuck on his, "rafe..."

"i'll make you feel good baby... don't worry" he whispered against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. his course fingers connected with your clothed pussy, slowly rubbing circles to make you squirm.

he grinned when he saw you twitch at his touch, your clit aching from the lack of direct contact. as if he could read your body, he pulled your shorts to the side, now faced with soaked panties staring back at him.

rafe sighed gratefully, "you're so soaked already, god you're perfect" he mumbled. his long fingers traced your slit and he chuckled a little to himself before pulling your panties to the side too.

without warning, his mouth connected with your wet cunt, sloppy kisses and flicks of his tongue made your eyes roll back before he slid a finger through your folds again. he tapped at your aching hole before sliding a finger in, watching your face contort as you got used to the welcome intrusion.

you groaned, "god-" rafe's smirk perking up against your heat, he came up for air for a second, "rafe's fine baby.."

you threw your head back as he licked a stripe down your pussy, grinning as he slid another finger inside, curling them before mercilessly pumping them in and out.

one thing leads to another, you're bent over the bed, rafe's cock bulging out of your stomach as his hips snap against your ass. a loud whine escapes your lips as he's rearranging your guts. your tight walls clamping desperately around his cock as your ass bounces with every thrust.

his tip brushes your cervix as he thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and flipping you over mumbling, "need to see your pretty face.."

he shoves your body further onto the bed before climbing over you with his classic smirk. your breathing ragged as your eyes locked with his, he tapped his cock on your pussy before dragging it through your folds. he knew the teasing drove you crazy, your eyebrows cinched together as his ego grew.

a pornographic moan escaped your lips as he slid in again, rolling his hips against yours he pumped his cock at a heavenly pace. your nails left crescent shaped indents as you gripped on rafe's arms, the pleasure sending the both of you into overdrive.

rafe cursed as his thrusts grew sloppy, the way your gummy walls were squeezing him made him dizzy, his release creeping up on him. you too could feel a familiar coil tightening in your stomach, unsurprised at the discovery that rafe was the only one to be able to make you cum, even when you're technically broken up.

he lifts a hand and connects it with one of your tits, his tongue darting between his lips as he massaged the fat, your nipple between his fingers. you whimpered as his cock kissed your cervix before finally you felt the coil snap, your orgasm overpowering you.

the way your pussy clenched rafe's cock as you finished around him caused him to groan gutturally, spilling his release into your sopping hole. he collapsed on top of you, littering your neck and cheeks with kisses as he heavily breathed.

"fuck.. i love you baby" he said finally before getting up and slowly pulling out, his release leaking from you a little. he grinned at the sight and pumped to fingers into your pussy, pushing his cum back inside you. "i'll get us a wet towel" he mumbled, walking towards your bathroom after kissing you on the forehead.

taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @doeletteprincess ( feel free to ask to be added! idm! )

[demonic0angel]

Prolonged ecto contamination can cause regenerative abilities. This is great when something important is stabbed or a limb is lost. But for other things, not so much.

“Daddy,” A five year old cried, “somethings wrong with mommy!”

Jason ran to his and his wifes room. He stopped by the door, taking in Jazz's tense still frame perched on the edge of their bed. She gazed at a small cylinder object cluched in her hands.

"Jazz?" Jason called.

She slowly lifted her gaze to him and turned the object around, revealing two pink lines.

"Is-is that an old one?" Jason stammered.

Jazz moved her head to side to side.

"Defective?"

"I've done ten of them, all the same."

But, but that couldn't be. Jason mentally floundered. After a failed vasectomy resulting in kid numer six and then a failed tube tying causeing baby number seven, Jazz had a hysterectomy.

Jason opened his mouth to address this but then remembered that their kids were in the room. It wouldn't be good for kids to witness their parents having a meltdown over a positive pregnancy test. Or discuss a possible lawsuit against a certain hospital and surgeon.

Switching gears, Jason called to his kids, "Come on tribe! To the living room for a movie."

"What about Mommy?" the five year old protested.

"Don't worry," Jason scooped up his kid and pecked her forehead. "Your dad got this," he said with way more confidence than he felt.

(OML I LITERALKY FUCKING ROLLED WHEN I SAW THIS ASK ASDFGHHKLLL THIS IS SO FUNNY BC IN MY ORIGINAL IDEAS ABIUT ANGER MANAGEMENT, THEY HAVE 5 KIDS)

Jazz stared at him blankly. Jason stared back. They both stared at each other. Then he admitted, “I don’t think I got this.”

Thank goodness their oldest, Elinor, was able to understand and distract all of her siblings. Now it was just Jason, Jazz, and their Ancient ghost dog alone to discuss what to do next.

Jazz continued staring at him, holding Shadow in her arms before she said, “Y’know, we could….”

“Don’t even start,” he said in exasperation. While he would always give her the choice, he knew that none of them would actually genuinely consider it.

She sighed. “I know. I want it anyways. It’s mine. It’s our baby.”

Her possessiveness was so cute. Jason reached over to hug her, squeezing her gently and placing his chin on her head. It was a bit difficult due to her height, but she hunched over to tuck herself into his arms, so it was a little easier.

“We’ll handle it. Together, like always. It’s not like we’re lacking in money anyways. And we have plenty of rooms and we can get help from our support groups. I can take another break from being Red Hood and you’ve never stopped your online therapy sessions, so I think we can do this.”

Jazz sighed, nodding before she suddenly groaned aloud and used a fist to hit Jason’s chest. Jason blinked. “What?”

“You know what my siblings call me?! They call Miss Weasley! At this rate, we’ll have a football team by the time we’re done!”

Jason tried not to laugh but a twitch must’ve alerted Jazz to his amusement because she looked up at him and glared. Shadow growled lightly on her lap. She scolded, “You’re giving the news to our families again. And I won’t stop Dan from trying to kill you this time.”

“Even if it makes you a single mother to 7 kids?” Jason asked idly.

Jazz paused and then she cursed softly. Jason snorted into her shoulder before Jazz then said, “I think after this, we’re using condoms again.”

Horrified, Jason lifted his head up and stared at her in disbelief and shocked horror. “What!”

“Jason! We have 7 kids now! Can I please get a break!”

Jason groaned, long and loud. Then he sighed, rubbing Jazz’s sides in faux sadness as he bemoaned, “Fine… since I love you so much… I’ll wear protection next time…”

Jazz pinched his cheek with a little narrowed eye stare and smile, shaking lightly but she said, “Thank you, dearest. We’ll handle this together, alright? It won’t be easy, but we’ve done this six times before, we can do this a seventh time. I think I should ask Dan how he does it…” she mumbled more plans to herself, as Jason just held her, closing his eyes.

If his past self was ever told that he’d have a wife and seven kids, he was sure that he’d probably snitch to the cops that someone was hallucinating.

Not that he’d ever trade this for the world, of course.

[simonsrileyhusband]

AAHRRG I NEED TO HEAR YOUR SIMON SHARING READER WITH PRICE IDEAS and maybe a little ghostprice in there too just maybe

🙏🙏

nsfw:

simon is jealous... no, possesive, you are his and only his. but before he met you he meet price and his captain means a lot to him.

so when he sees the way price eyes you up at the tiny reunion the 141 had at his house, he starts thinking. thinking why wasnt he angry, why didnt he punch him in the face like he has done before with random guys on the street?

"yer joking, right?" price was sitting alone with simon on the tiny office of the house, a quick drop off something simon forgot at base turned into a small talk session and drinking.

"i never joke like that." his voice is harsh, dry and determinated. simon looked at his captain death in the eyes, waiting for an answer.

"i mean..." the older man speaks, drinking a bit of the whiskey, nervous. "if he is up to."

simon hums and stands up, leaving the glass on the tiny table and walks off the room.

"wait-..." he tries to complain but its too late, price hears how a door opens from afar and how the two of you talk, far enough to not be able to actually pick up any words.

after a good 10 minutes simon walks in, you walk behind him shyly, grabbing his hand you hide behind his strong frame.

"you already know eachother, no needs for introductions." he pulls you into his lap, sitting besides price. "if you wanna stop just say, m'kay?" you nod softly, wiggling closer to simon, watching price carefully. he is hot, big biceps and a bit of tummy, just like your simon, big thighs and husky voice...

"words baby." he whispers, and you nod again, lost in the way price stares at you while he finishes his drink. "i-... yes." you finally speak and your boyfriend hums.

"go on. sit on his lap baby." you obey, crawling into his lap, facing him. "hi, love." he mumbles, placing his hands barely above your knees. you whisper a little hi back. "can i... can i kiss him?" you ask shyly, while looking at simon, your cheeks blushed. "you can do anything, lovie, as long as you are comfortable." you nod and turn back to price, whose hands were a bit higher on your thighs now.

you kiss him, not like you would kiss your boyfriend, you hold back a bit, tasting the alcohol on him. but he is older, he has experience, he knows how to make someone feel good, you feel his hands rub your legs and waist, squeezing just enough to make you want more, and when you feel his bulge grow you cant help but grind on it, moaning softly into his lips.

"enough, on your knees, now." you quickly pull back, and look at simon flustered, yet, you do as he says quickly, kneeling in front of the two men. "jesus, ya got him trained well."

"he know he gets a reward if he's good."

you look up at them with desire, a burning sensation growing inside of you, sinful images filling your mind of all the things they can do to you. both of them undo their belts and unzip their pants. you perk up and pull down simons boxers. instinctively grabbing his dick. "not so fast, be a good boy and do the same with john."

a little whine scapes your mouth, and you do as you are told, pulling down his boxers too, both of your hands start to move up and down their hardening cocks, you look at them, how theu grunt and pant, how they stare down at you like hungry lions waiting to eat their prey.

"suck." a simple word, a command that came out as a grunt. you lean in and kiss his tip lovingly, you lick and kiss all over his lenght, taking your time to take all of it inside. you continue to jerk price off, who was lost in the way you moved your head up and down, how your eyes water and how good simons voice sounds when he is whispering naaty praises to you.

your mind is blury, you dont know how lomg you have been sucking their dicks, being yanked by the hair and cheeks to be shoved into their aching dicks. but when they get tired of that and need more than just your mouth your mind is already gone.

"its okay baby, relax f'me" you hear your boyfriends husky voice sooth you, face down and ass up on the couch they were once sitting at. your hole dripping and your breath heavy. simon pats princes arm, "ye' can go first, but no cumming inside of him, that’s only f'me."

price says something that you dont quite graso because a heavy hand falls harshly into your ass, making you whine. "do you want me to fuck you, mhm? tell me honey, tell me how badly y'want your boyfriends friend to fuck you."

[ivyues]

Tangled Lines | 1 | - Seungmin

Seungmin x Lee Know's sister

What started as a simple favor, dropping off a bag, spirals into a whirlwind of unexpected feelings and unspoken tension.

Part 2: Caught in the Middle | Part 3: Future Hyung-in-Law

It was supposed to be a quick errand. Lee Know had left his bag at home, and you were on your way to Seoul for a short trip anyway. You’d planned to drop it off at his dorm – no big deal. You didn’t expect much, certainly not a run-in with anyone other than your brother.

You followed the directions Lee Know had sent you and pulled up to the apartment complex. He'd mentioned his dorm several times, but this was the first time you’d ever actually been here. As you walked up to the door, you hesitated for a moment, unsure.

You rang the doorbell and waited. After a few moments, the door swung open, and there stood a guy you didn’t recognize.

He was tall-ish, dressed casually, with messy dark hair and an easy smile. And though you didn’t know exactly who he was, you couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked, his eyes lighting up with surprise and curiosity when he saw you standing there with a bag in hand.

“Hi…?” You hesitated, unsure if you had the right place. “Uh, I’m looking for Lee Minho? I’m his sister – he left something at home and I’m supposed to drop it off.”

The guy blinked in confusion for a split second, then his expression softened into something warmer. “Ah, so you’re his sister. He didn’t really mention that he has one. I’m Seungmin, by the way. Hyung isn’t home right now, but you’re welcome to wait.”

You were still standing at the door, processing everything. This was definitely not Lee Know. You had imagined this whole interaction would be simple: drop off the bag, say a quick hello, and head out. But there was something about Seungmin’s easy going demeanor that made you hesitate.

“Oh,” you said, realizing you were probably standing there awkwardly. You tried to adjust the bag in your hand, giving him a nervous smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can just leave it here—”

“No, no,” Seungmin cut you off, holding up his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “It’s fine. Come on in. He would probably kill me if I didn’t let you inside. Lee Know’s stuff is everywhere, though – warning in advance.” He gave a sheepish grin, clearly used to the chaos.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, stepping inside.

As soon as you entered, you realized that he was right – Lee Know’s ‘stuff’ was indeed scattered everywhere. Shoes piled near the door, jackets on the couch, random snacks, and clutter in every corner. It felt so… lived-in. Real. It was kind of charming, in a messy, chaotic way.

“So, do you guys always live like this?” you asked, half teasing, half amused by the clutter.

Seungmin chuckled. “You should see Felix’s side. This is nothing compared to his mess.” He led you into the living room, where he motioned to the couch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab some water for you while you wait.”

As Seungmin disappeared into the kitchen, you sat down on the couch, looking around. You hadn’t expected to spend time here, but the laid-back atmosphere made it feel oddly comfortable. You noticed a few framed photos of the group on the wall – some from concerts, others just candid shots of the guys laughing together.

Seungmin returned with a glass of water and handed it to you. He sat down on the arm of the couch, casually resting one foot on the seat. He didn’t seem rushed, nor did he act weird about the fact that you were here in Lee Know’s absence.

“So, I take it you and Lee Know are pretty close?” Seungmin asked, taking a sip from his own glass of water.

“Yeah, we’re close,” you said with a smile. “He’s my older brother, so, of course, he’s annoying. But that’s what older brothers are for, right?”

Seungmin nodded, his lips curving into a grin. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You laughed, the easy back-and-forth making you feel more comfortable. And, truth be told, you found yourself glancing at him more than you had planned. He was cute, undeniably so, with his expressive eyes and the way he seemed so effortlessly relaxed even in the middle of a stranger walking into his home.

You casually brought up something about how Lee Know was always messing around with his bandmates, and Seungmin smiled at the comment, sharing a story of their last rehearsal and how Lee Know had pulled a prank on Hyunjin. It felt so easy, like you were just chatting with a friend you’d known forever.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open, and you looked up to see Lee Know walking in with Felix and I.N trailing behind him. He froze when he saw you sitting there with Seungmin, a strange look flashing across his face.

“Uh,” Lee Know said, his voice tinged with surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought your bag,” you said casually, holding it up for him. “You left it at home. Seungmin was nice enough to let me wait for you.”

Lee Know shot a quick glance at Seungmin, who was now grinning, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you two are already chatting it up?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin replied smoothly. “We were just getting to know each other. Your sister’s cool.”

Seungmin didn’t just mean it as a compliment; there was a teasing note to his voice, and you could tell he was just enjoying the moment with Lee Know. But there was something in the way he spoke, as though he was daring Lee Know to be annoyed. You could tell it was playful – he wasn’t quite serious, and he didn’t think anything more would come from it. After all, he didn’t even want to start anything that might cause trouble. But for now, he wanted to tease Lee Know, especially since it was so easy to get a rise out of him like that.

You stood up, handing Lee Know the bag. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You could tell by the way Seungmin looked at you that he wasn’t just teasing you; there was something more genuine behind the conversation. But of course, you’d never let your brother know that.

-----

Felix, ever the social butterfly, had exchanged numbers with you long before, and somewhere in the process of joking group chats and shared chaos, Seungmin had slid into your messages.

The texts started off simple.

A casual “thanks for the water” message after your first visit turned into occasional updates about Lee Know: "Your brother’s sulking because Changbin ate his snacks again" or "Did he always hoard laundry like this?" 

You didn’t think much of it at first. After all, Seungmin was easy to talk to. He had a quick wit that matched your sarcasm, and his humor always made you laugh harder than you’d admit. But the conversations had shifted somewhere along the way – becoming more personal, more frequent.

It wasn’t just updates about Lee Know anymore.

Seungmin: “Did you see that new ramen place on your side of town?” You: “I’ve heard it’s good. Why, thinking of coming all the way here?” Seungmin: “Maybe I just needed an excuse.”

It was subtle, these shifts. A lingering tone of something that felt like flirting but stayed safely within the lines of plausible deniability. But you caught yourself smiling at his messages more than you should.

The problem was, you liked him.

Not in a passing way or a harmless crush you could laugh off later. No, Seungmin’s steady humor and surprising kindness were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just cute; he was the kind of guy who listened, who noticed little things, who made you feel at ease even when you were overthinking everything.

But every time you thought about it – about what it might mean – you hit a wall.

Your brother’s voice played in your head whenever you thought about crossing that invisible line. What would he think if he knew? Worse, what if it messed things up in the group? You didn’t want to be the reason Seungmin hesitated during practice or avoided Lee Know’s eye.

And Seungmin? Well, he had his own internal battle.

The teasing texts and playful banter were easy – familiar ground that didn’t require him to confront how he was starting to feel about you. But when you sent him a photo of the ramen you’d finally tried, captioned with "Guess you missed out", he stared at his screen longer than he should have.

It wasn’t the photo or the food. It was your smile, that small, effortless curve of your lips that had been stuck in his mind since the day you showed up at the dorm.

"Get it together, Seungmin," he muttered under his breath.

Lee Know was his friend, his brother in everything but blood. And falling for you wasn’t just breaking an unspoken rule; it felt like betraying that bond.

One night, after a long day of rehearsals, Seungmin found himself scrolling through your chat history. His finger hovered over the keyboard, debating whether or not to reply to your latest message. You’d sent him a photo of one of your cats – curled up in a pile of freshly folded laundry.

He smiled despite the unease feelings, typing back before he could second-guess it:

“Looks like you’re more of a cat person too. Must run in the family.” You replied instantly “I love my cats, but I don’t mind dogs either. Don’t tell Lee Know though – he’d probably disown me for even saying that.” and the conversation spiraled into a late-night exchange about pets, chaotic siblings, and everything in between. It was easy. Too easy.

And then you said something that made his heart stop.

“I always feel like I can tell you anything. Weird, right?”

He stared at the words, feeling a tug in his chest that he couldn’t ignore anymore. He wanted to feel proud of that – of being someone you trusted. But all he could think about was how wrong it felt to be the person catching feelings for you.

He set his phone down, rubbing a hand over his face. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You’d noticed the shift in his texts lately – the hesitation, the shorter replies. You felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he was pulling back, realizing that this… whatever it was between you… shouldn’t be happening.

And you couldn’t blame him. You’d thought about pulling back yourself.

But instead, late one evening, you found yourself typing out a message you weren’t sure you’d send.

You: “I feel like we’ve both been avoiding something. And I get it – I do. But… I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you. And I don’t want to mess things up for you or my brother, so if this needs to stop, just tell me, okay?”

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity before pressing send.

Seungmin: “I care about you too. Probably more than I should. But I don’t want this to hurt anyone – least of all you.”

The relief of his words hit you immediately, but so did the weight of his hesitation.

You: “So what do we do?”

Seungmin hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before he finally typed:

Seungmin: “We take it slow. We’re honest – with each other, with Lee Know, when the time’s right. And if this starts feeling wrong, we stop. No questions asked.”

-----

Seungmin sat in the practice room long after everyone else had left. He fiddled with his phone, the screen dark, but his thoughts racing. He had made a decision, one he couldn’t back out of now.

He unlocked his phone, scrolling to your name in his messages.

Seungmin: “I’m going to talk to him.”

The three dots indicating your reply appeared almost instantly.

You: “Are you crazy?”

Seungmin could almost hear your voice in the text – half incredulous, half offended.

You: “I mean, I get it. He deserves to know, and I respect that. But seriously… you’re telling him this?”

Seungmin: “I don’t want to go behind his back. It’s not just about this – it’s about the group, too. This has to be on the table.”

You: “Fine. But don’t expect me to save you if he kills you.”

He smiled faintly at the reply but couldn’t shake the nerves coiled in his chest.

When Lee Know walked into the practice room, his phone still in his hands, he paused, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?”

Seungmin stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Waiting for you.”

Lee Know gave him a wary glance, closing the door behind him. “What’s this about?”

“Hyung,” Seungmin started, his tone unusually serious, “can we talk for a minute? Like, for real?”

Lee Know’s expression shifted slightly at the earnestness in Seungmin’s voice. “Okay… What’s up?”

Seungmin sat back down on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s about your sister.”

Lee Know’s posture straightened immediately, his eyes narrowing. “What about her?”

Seungmin hesitated for a moment before forcing himself to meet Lee Know’s gaze. “Since she dropped off your bag… we’ve been talking. Just texting, mostly. Nothing serious has happened, and I swear it hasn’t crossed any lines. But… I like her.”

The room went uncomfortably quiet. Lee Know blinked slowly, his face unreadable.

“You like her?” he repeated, his tone flat.

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah. And I wanted to tell you before anything else happened because…” He exhaled, his voice softening. “Because I respect you, hyung. You’re like a brother to me, and I don’t want to screw that up by hiding something like this from you.”

Lee Know stared at him for a long moment, his expression somewhere between disbelief and scrutiny.

Finally, he sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t even know where to start. First of all, you? Of all people?”

Seungmin let out a dry laugh. “What, am I not good enough?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lee Know shot back, rolling his eyes. “It’s just… unexpected.”

“Trust me, it’s unexpected for me too,” Seungmin admitted.

Lee Know rubbed his temples. “You’re not messing around, are you? This isn’t some prank or… I don’t know, something stupid?”

“It’s not a joke,” Seungmin said firmly. “I mean it. And honestly…” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe it won’t even go anywhere. I don’t know. It’s early, and nothing has really happened yet. But I’d rather be upfront about it than hide it.”

Lee Know studied him for another long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this. She’s my sister, Seungmin. And you’re…” He gestured vaguely. “You’re you.”

Lee Know leaned forward, his voice dropping as he let out a soft groan. “But I get it. She’s great. And I can't exactly tell her who to see.”

Seungmin’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, relief flickering across his face.

“That said,” Lee Know continued, his tone sharpening again, “if you screw this up – even a little – I will make your life miserable. And I don’t mean in a fun, teasing way. Got it?”

Seungmin nodded seriously. “Understood.”

Lee Know leaned back, shaking his head. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t,” Seungmin said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Good. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Seungmin stood up. “Thanks, hyung.”

As Seungmin left the practice room, Lee Know called after him, “And don’t expect me to go easy on you during dance practice!”

-----

Later that night, Seungmin texted you.

Seungmin: “Mission accomplished. I’m alive, and your brother didn’t kill me.”

You: “I’m surprised. I half-expected him to throw you out a window.”

Seungmin: “He might have, but I reminded him how irreplaceable I am. Also, he threatened me, so we’re all good now.”

You laughed at the text, shaking your head.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Lee Know.

Lee Know: “Seriously? The dog? I’m telling Songie, Dongie, and Dori that you don’t love them anymore.”

masterlist

[bibi-e]

Anything Grayson. like a quick one shot 💌

a/n: thank you anon for this request my brain was filled with Grayson thoughts and I admit that was hard to write just one of them lol. Thank you and I hope you like it!!

summary: wife! reader makes a special night for Grayson but urgent matters come and she gets late. R! is also pent up, and horny on main and only Grayson can fulfill that

warnings: established relationship, wife!r, scent kink (using Grayson's smell to get off), use of toys -dildo, reader is horny on main for this woman and so am I.

Grayson was late again.

You weren’t worried or chewing your fingers to the bone. She had called you to explain that an urgent demand coming from the Council had come by the end of her shift, and since Grayson would never leave work to do at home, she decided to stay some extra hours, promising that as soon as she finished she would be in your arms.

However, you were left frustrated. Earlier that day you decided to spoil your wife once she was back from sheriff duties, noticing how stressed she looked these past days and how little time you two had spent together. You understood it without doubts and were sportful towards her, your love never failing in those unconventional moments. However, most of all, you were getting pent up from this.

You couldn't blame yourself, for having Grayson as a partner and act normal when she’s waking up by your side with messy hair, sleepy eyes and her voice going on a lower tone when she wishes good morning. Seeing her stepping out of the bathroom with only a towel around her body or even fully naked due to your intimacy and trying not to eat her with your eyes as she puts on that royal blue uniform gives her physic a boost. Her rough and yet gentle manners of handling you in the bedroom, made you scream in pleasure and cry wanting more of her. You tried to get off many times but none was able to satisfy as she does, using the same motions on your toys, riding the same way you did with her, fucking yourself countless times to reach your high and try to ease this burning desire during her absence. Yet, none fulfilled it, it was her presence and authority that pursued the space inside of you and extinguished that uncontrolled lust.

Furrowing at the layed table with crystal glasses and perfectly folded napkins, the smell of the dinner you had made still lingered in the air waiting for her to come home so you two could have a romantic night remembering the time you had done it weekly. You sat on the chair and waited, left with no options other than that. But the frustration did nothing to calm the fire consuming you.

Pacing to your bedroom with a jacket of hers, you entered and crashed into her side of the bed hugging her pillow and pressing your face into it inhaling her scent, crisp green apple and warm amber notes intoxicating your body as you start to grind your hips down the soft mattress searching for a form of relief as your heart ached without her with you.

Memories from that same smell on her neck when you buried your face on it whilst her blanketing your form with her larger frame, you were a mess trying to plant with wet kisses and suck on her neck with her avenging your doings by diving her strap on you. Grayson had pride in her physique, she might not have the same muscles and strength as she was younger but her stamina qualified to leave you drained and without walking properly for some time – when both of you were feeling inspired –. You reached for the drawer close to your side and grabbed the grey dildo there taking off your clothes along with your panties and began to smear your wetness around the tip of the toy, it didn’t take much for you to press it against your hole and bottoming it inside of you. Coming to grab the pillow against your face again, you sniffed the soft cover as you worked yourself around the toy, her aroma intoxicated your senses again and you worked the toy faster on you growing sopping wet with each precise trust against that good spot, thinking it was her doing it, with her experienced hand and her voice guiding you towards your climax. But that didn’t happen.

Once again you came, gripping the jacket and pressing on your nose but it did little to satisfy you like it was just a matter of seconds to have your core aching again for more. You slowed your hand moves, trying to ride out your orgasm and building up another until a click was heard that startled you, eyes flew open to search the origin of the nose across the room.

Grayson was standing by your now-closed bedroom door (that you probably forgot to close) with her jacket in one hand and unbuttoning her white button shirt with another, pairing with lustful eyes darting to you. “Good evening my darling. I can see you had anticipated your plans for tonight.” She reached out the dildo, cupping your hand that rested there, and proceeded with your motions watching how it disappeared inside of you and the squelching noise our cunt was making by her arrival. “I’m sorry I made you wait, not only for tonight but previously too. However, I believe that my formal apologies will have to wait until I’m done with you here.” her gravelly voice rocked your ears, her true scent overfilled your nostrils and made your brain dizzy, and lust burned stronger on your body from finally having her with you. Feeling her hand around yours and dragging the toy against your walls and hitting that spot over and over, quickly building a breathtaking orgasm that had your legs shaking and eyes rolling back.

The night was long, Grayson had to make up for you and drain your energies for the week.

[whump-in-the-closet]

OH MY GOD THE DRABBLE WITH VILLAIN HOLDING VIGILANTE HOSTAGE TO MAKE HERO WORK FOR THEM????? THAT WAS SO GOOD AHHHHHH

I humbly request a continuation, oh great one 🧎‍♀️(only if you want to, ofc)

Your request is my command my friend <2

part 1

content: female whumpee, gunshot, reluctant whumper/villain, bound and gagged, manhandling, multiple whumpers, multiple whumpees, fucked up sibling dynamics, implied torture and abuse, forced to watch, hostage situation

Hero's hands shook as she clicked together the last two pieces of Villain's weapon.

She stared at it, unwilling to take her hands off the instrument, fully aware of Villain standing over the unconscious Vigilante behind her.

"Done yet?"

Hero tensed, noticing as if for the first time, the blue glow of the muzzle and the weird tingling it sent up her arms the longer she held it. She felt off-- lethargic, her vision dimming and slipping in and out of focus.

Villain had approached her from behind and now leaned on the desk, putting a gloved hand on the weapon. I knew you’d come around,” he said, his voice a velvet purr. “You're always so predictable, Hero. Always willing to bleed for someone else.”

Hero's grip tightened, eyes narrowing. She noticed three things at once- three small details- the small spots of blood on Villain's gloves, the soft descent of a cloud of dust motes between them, and Villian's stinging smile of triumph.

"That's a suppressor?" It came out as a question, hesitant, suddenly unsure of how exactly this would end.

Before Villain could respond, Vigilante stirred. They tilted their head groggily, blinking until everything came into focus. They froze when they made eye contact with Hero. They screamed into the duct tape gag, the sound muffled but the message clear. Run!

Villain glanced back, looking from Vigilante to Hero. His demeanor shifted. He yanked the weapon out of her hands and raised it with practiced ease. "No shit, Sherlock." Gone was the evil mastermind with everything planned ahead. A flicker of genuine annoyance flashed in his eyes. He wanted to end this. Now.

Fuck.

Hero slowly stood up, hands raised. "Villain, take it easy now." Her gaze remained locked on that glowing gun, its shine reflecting in her eyes. "Let's not rush into anything--"

"Don't tell me what to do," snapped Villain. With the gun, he gestured to the floor. "Kneel. And keep your hands where I can see them"

Hero's stomach dropped. Every second felt like an eternity, her mind racing. Finally, she lowered herself to the floor, her movements deliberate and slow, hands still raised. "Villain," she tried again, her voice tight with desperation. "Let Vigilante go. They’ve got nothing to do with this."

Please.

Villain snorted, his finger hesitating over the trigger. He looked at the hyperventilating Vigilante and shrugged. "Why? I have both of you now."

Hero lunged to her feet and Villain fired, the blast hitting her in the shoulder and knocking her backward. Pain exploded through her entire frame, but she clenched her jaw through a scream and reached for—

A second shot rang out, slamming her to the floor. The entire building shook, sending pieces of debris raining down.

"Good boy," said a new voice from the shadows, cold and dripping with control.

Villain tensed as if snapped to attention. He faltered. "I didn't know you were coming."

Supervillain toed Vigilante. "Oh, but I like to show up when things get...interesting."

Vigilante choked into the gag, glaring up at Supervillain. They were spewing the worst of curses into that duct tape.

Supervillain didn't like the defiance, and with a sharp kick to Vigilante's mouth, silenced it. Blood bloomed across the silver tape as Vigilante curled into themself, trembling.

"That's better," said Supervillain with a thin smile, as if dealing with a minor inconvenience.

Villain ignored the display, focused on snapping cuffs over Hero's wrists and ankles. "I'll take this one back to the base."

"And Vigilante?"

"I was thinking of leaving them for the authorities to find. Give them something to do instead of handing out speeding tickets"

Supervillain shook their head with a condescending sigh. "Have I taught you nothing? If you want to hurt Hero, you're going to have to hurt Vigilante. Take them back."

"But--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah they're family. Get over it, and act like you want to be a part of this."

Villain glanced, for one last time, at Vigilante's crumpled form. Something flickered in his eyes—guilt, maybe—but it disappeared just as quickly. He straightened, jaw tight. "Sure thing."

[ofdarknesseyes]

Yeah he didn’t know Megumi not completely. Sure he can still get a read on him like when he was little, that could just be fatherly instincts that never actually go away no matter how hard he tries. But he isn’t naive, it has been years since he spent any time with his son. He wasn’t the one to raise Megumi. Megumi wasn’t like him, he gave a shit about others. He isn’t sure if that is a good thing or not. On one hand, yeah great, his son wasn’t a piece of shit like him. On the other, it only meant it was more likely for Megumi to get hurt. Both mentally and physically or worse…

He leans against the door frame waiting for Megumi to be ready. Sighing at his words. He gets it. Gojo was much more his father than he ever would be. He doesn’t blame Megumi for caring about the man that was there for him. Who actually raised him, trained him, provided for him, and protected him. As much as he didn’t want to care it did make him feel something. Remorseful? Regretful? Almost as if he wished he stuck around. No use thinking like that though.

“I get it. I owe that brat too anyways.” He grumbles the last part to himself looking almost annoyed. Cursing under his breath even.

Megumi’s next words, his concern for him, shock him to the core. He shouldn’t be shocked, not really, not with the way Megumi has clearly shown to care for others, but still, it shocks him and makes him feel other things he isn’t used to. Those feelings are drowned out by the guilt that he doesn’t deserve anything from Megumi, not even his pity. Also, the way Megumi says his name… He doesn’t expect to be called dad or father or anything like that but even just hearing Megumi say his name did something to him… He buries that feeling deep inside for now.

His eyes are wide only for the briefest of moments before he chuckles softly and shakes his head. He ruffles Megumi’s hair before his hand caresses his face gently, lowering his voice slightly.

“I am supposed to be dead anyways, kid. Don’t sweat it. I’ll be fine.”

His green eyes set on Megumi his expression almost saying: You won’t lose me. Even though he can’t make any promises.

Toji reassures him anyway. And what was he supposed to do just let Megumi waltz out there on his own? He almost groans at himself when he realizes that his feelings and his actions are becoming very father-like. It was too damn late to be a dad he tries to tell himself. Whatever, he always did whatever he wanted didn’t he? The least Toji could do was admit to himself he wanted to do this. He wanted to be by Megumi’s side for as long as he could this time. Fuck it! He had nothing more to lose now. Everyone thought he was dead and if trouble does come for him he will ditch Megumi before it gets too dangerous.

For now, it seems like Megumi was the one in deep shit with all that is going on. He owes him after not killing him like he should have and he owes him after the beating he gave him. However, it makes him realize this kid of his still needs more training. What the hell has Gojo been teaching him anyway? More like codling him probably…

“If we are gonna get going let's go then. I want food on the way though.”

Toji almost demands as if he were the child here and is being dragged along on a trip with his dad.

Megumi knew very little about his dad as if that much wasn't obvious already. The pull he felt was a connection since birth and a wanting, but that didn't mean he KNEW his father. The man could have been an animal abuser and a wanted criminal. Would Megumi's issues and love erase all of that? Toji took revenge for the murder of his mother, but was he the kind of man who fought and stood up for what was right? Megumi was. Part of him felt he had to, another part of him, a greater part of him, believed that was what his life was meant for.

Toji wasn't a sorcerer though. Likely he wasn't raised with those convictions, but he was making a lot of assumptions. All he had was assumptions and a creative mind. Thankfully his father wasn't just sitting by even though he certainly seemed to favor it. Once his father began changing out of his clothes, Megumi looked away and then waited before he's standing right in front of the man. Megumi had to tilt his head back to match those green eyes. So very much the same as they were different. Toji's eyes looked almost haunted.

“ I know I don't, but I still have to for me and for... ”

The man who replaced you. it went unsaid. Megumi's green eyes flickered with sadness, then determination.

“ This is what I've been training for most of my life. I'm willing to sacrifice myself if I have to but I don't want to lose... you. ”

Feeling vulnerable the boy dropped his head until his spiky hairs masked his eyes.

“ I know you're strong but I don't want to drag you into this and get you killed... Toji. ”

[communistkenobi]

brain damage mission impossible posting

okay there are 72 fics listed as Ethan/Julia on ao3 despite her being his canonical wife. Which like on a baseline level I understand because she’s not a character. she’s a symbol meant to represent Ethan’s desire for domestic quietude, something that is perpetually out of reach because he’s the mission impossible guy who saves the world. every time he tries to be a normal person some evil entity threatens to destroy his life by kidnapping his wife/parents/etc. But the idea of a hot/cold relationship with Julia, or them as perpetual lovers without any promise of marriage and family or even exclusivity, is never entertained in these movies, which I think cements Julia as firmly not a character. She’s not even really that important to Ethan when viewed in this context, because there’s no shades of grey allowed - he’s either a full time spy or he’s a retired husband. He won’t even take “scraps” in the form of casual sex or infrequent clandestine loving hook-ups, even in contexts where that wouldn’t put her in any danger. the only two horizons of possibility for him are marriage or volceldom. the films make the case that you can’t really have any work-life balance, but the “life” part of that equation is just full-package white heterosexuality. And they don’t even make it seem that appealing honestly, like in the third movie when Ethan tries to retire he’s clearly not comfortable and on edge all the time and abandons it at the drop of a hat (almost killing Julia in the process). But every time she appears in these films after they break up he is deeply distraught about it - like god does Tom Cruise sell the “we can never be together” look of abject longing he does whenever their characters collide. He sells the intense emotional stakes despite the lack of normative sexual desire to go with it.

Because what’s also crazy is that Ethan as a character doesn’t really express any sexuality in general - most of it is extremely restrained, confined to caressing a woman’s face or accidental physical closeness (like landing on top each other during a fall, etc). It’s always hinted at but never really develops into anything, and even in later films where it’s clearly shown that he and Ilsa have something going on, they barely touch. Like most of it is communicated through emotional glances and long pauses of them staring at each other. Clearly the misogynistic spectre of “men and women can’t be friends without eventually fucking/dating” is present in this, but the conclusion of that heteronormative configuration is never paid off with sex. And this is despite women’s bodies being shown off constantly in these films, like there are a lot of unjustifiable and disgusting shots of women’s asses and legs especially, but they are pure “eye candy” for the audience, they are rarely if ever framed as being attractive from the perspective of Ethan, the principle POV character of every film and the character that audiences are clearly supposed to connect with.

And in those moments where women’s bodies are on display but Ethan is not paying attention, there is a clear separation between the director’s and Tom Cruise’s vision of these films. Like he is entirely in control of them at this point given he is the driving force behind them, all of these films are sold on Cruise doing some insane stunt like holding his breath for six minutes or climbing the exterior of the tallest building in the world or him doing 109 HALO jumps to get the best footage for a mid-air struggle over Paris. He does shit no other actor does, he sells it by making it ‘real.’ The films also narratively revolve around him - he is, to use direct quotes, “the living manifestation of destiny,” “the embodiment of chaos itself” and so on. He is the emotional and narrative centre of gravity. Ethan’s emotional states, his desires, his tribulations and internal conflicts, they are all that matter in these films. Basically no one else is a character. And he doesn’t fuck in any of these movies! He's a hot-shot spy but he isn’t a ladies man. Women fall over themselves for him but he’s not interested in them. The only exception is Ilsa, but that is clearly the result of her saving his life multiple times and their emotional trust in one another. Like these films have action movie levels of misogyny, sexual objectification and narrative discarding of women and all of that, but our main hero doesn’t really “partake” in any spoils of triumph or whatever gross horseshit is usually in these things. So to me this indicates a general lack of desire on the part of Cruise to “indulge” in any of these tropes, something he has the money and power to force on screen if he wants it to happen (which is what happens in many movies! Including these ones, only you just see a woman’s ass disconnected from any character’s sexual intention - the sexual intention is purely presumed on behalf of the audience).

I think this is aesthetic evidence that Tom Cruise is gay. But I still don’t really care about any of the guy characters either because they also aren’t characters, so Benji/Ethan is entirely uncompelling to me in a way that Ethan/Julia isn’t, not because cookie-cutter heterosexuality is “more interesting” but because there is something weirdly restrained and emotionally repressed about it that feels strangely uncomfortable with its own cookie-cutterness. so personally if you want to do Benji/Ethan in an interesting way I think you need to contend with the bizarreness of Ethan/Julia, OR, you deal with the narrative tension of Ethan/Julia itself by focusing on it. I am obviously biased in that I am extremely partial to a good “lovers doomed to be forever apart” thing (and these movies are NOT good examples of this), but their relationship is purely emotional and purely based on repression of a desire for intimacy as opposed to sex, which feels weirdly out of place in an otherwise titanically normative action film series. AND ITS MAKING ME CRAZYYYYYY!!!!!!!

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbor (matthew sturniolo)

pt 12

The next morning, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind was a mess, replaying every word Matt had said the night before, every expression on his face as he finally told me the truth.

He’d been honest—brutally honest—and now I was left to unpack it all. He told me that Abbie had been his girlfriend up until a month ago. He said he was happy with her, or at least he thought he was. He believed he loved her. But then I came back into his life, and it hit him like a tidal wave.

“All the emotions, the hurt, the love, and the memories I had buried came rushing back, Y/N,” he had confessed, his voice trembling. “I tried to ignore it. I tried to pretend I didn’t feel it, but I couldn’t. And when we planned that trip… I was still with her, but I knew it wasn’t fair. I couldn’t lead her on, not when my heart was still yours. It’s always been yours.”

I hadn’t known what to say at the time, and even now, I wasn’t sure how I felt. It hurt, knowing he had lied to me just to get me back, But at the same time, I understood. I understood how complicated and messy love could be, how the lines blurred when emotions ran deep.

With a sigh, I rolled onto my side, my fingers tracing patterns on the blanket. I didn’t know where this left us.

Curiosity got the better of me. I reached for my phone, opening Matt's Instagram and scrolling through his following until I found her. Abbie.

Her profile picture showed a tall, blonde girl with warm brown eyes, standing in front of a beach sunset. She was stunning, the polar opposite of me—my dark hair, big blue eyes, and softer frame. My thumb hovered over her profile for a moment before tapping on it. Her page was filled with polished photos, perfectly curated snapshots of her life, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of inadequacy.

I tapped the message bar, half-expecting to see nothing, but instead, I was met with an avalanche of unread DMs. My stomach dropped. With all the messages I get in a day, I’d never noticed these, but now I couldn’t look away.

The first few messages were from a month ago: “I know who you are. Don’t pretend you don’t know about me.” “You’ve been with Matt this whole time, haven’t you? He’s been lying to both of us.”

Then they started getting angrier: “You’re a joke. You think you’re better than me? He’s going to get bored of you just like he did with everyone else.” “Have fun with him while it lasts, because when he realizes you’re not worth it, I’ll be the one laughing.”

And then the tone shifted again, dripping with resentment and heartbreak: “I hate you. I hate him. You’ve ruined everything.” “He said he loved me. How could you both do this to me?”

My hands trembled as I scrolled through the messages. I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, I understood her pain. She was hurting, lashing out, and searching for someone to blame. But on the other hand, her words cut deep, making me question everything.

Closing my eyes, I set the phone down, taking a shaky breath. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the phone screen, the messages blurring into an indecipherable mess. My chest tightened, and I couldn’t stop the sob that escaped my lips.

I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, my heart ached for Abbie. She had been hurt, blindsided by Matt’s decision to leave her, and the pain she poured into those messages was all too familiar. I’d been there once, in the position of feeling discarded and unworthy, and I knew how devastating it was.

But on the other hand, a pang of jealousy coursed through me, sharp and unexpected. She was gorgeous—tall, radiant, and confident in ways I couldn’t even fake. She looked perfect, like someone who had it all together, while I felt like a mess in comparison. And yet, Matt had left her.

For me.

But why?

The question echoed in my mind, breaking me down further. Why would he leave someone like her—someone who seemed so put-together, so amazing—for someone like me? Someone with a past as messy and broken as ours. I didn’t understand how he could look at me, with all my flaws and insecurities, and choose me over someone who seemed so effortless.

I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest as tears streamed down my face. A wave of self-doubt crashed over me, drowning out the small voice in my head that told me I was enough.

Matt had always seen something in me that I struggled to see in myself. But now, as I lay there with Abbie’s words ringing in my ears, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake. And worse, if I was the one ruining everything all over again.

I grabbed my phone, my hands trembling as I typed out a message to Matt. The chaos in my mind was too much to handle on my own. For the first time, I couldn’t even bring myself to talk to Charlie about it. The embarrassment and shame I felt over my emotions were suffocating, wrapping around me like a weight I couldn’t shake. Reaching out to Matt felt like my only option, even if I wasn’t sure I had the strength to face his response.

Y/N: Hey...

Matt: Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?

Y/N: I don’t know I’ve just been thinking.

Matt: About?

Y/N: Abbie.

Matt: What about her?

Y/N: I saw her messages. I didn’t mean to, but they’re there, and I read them. She’s beautiful, Matt. Like, stunning. She seems like she had everything together. I don’t get how you could leave someone like that for me.

Matt: Y/N, no.

Y/N: I mean it. She’s tall, gorgeous, probably stable. Meanwhile, I’m this emotional wreck with a history of fighting you every step of the way. I don’t understand why you’d pick me. Why would you leave her for me?

Matt: Because she wasn’t you.

Y/N: Matt.

Matt: No, listen to me. You want to know why I left her? Why I chose you? It’s because I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. You’re the only person I’ve ever truly loved. No one else compares, not even close. I tried to move on with Abbie because I thought I had to. I had finally accepted that I'd never hear or see you again, that I’d never have a chance to fix what I broke with you. So I tried to forget, but I couldn’t. Not even for a second.

Matt: Do you know what it felt like to see you again? To have you back in my life, even as a neighbor? It was like this massive part of me that had been missing finally clicked back into place. Abbie’s great, yeah, but she’s not you. She could never be you.

Matt: And trust me, I know I don’t deserve another chance with you after everything we’ve been through. But when we went on that trip and I saw the way you looked at me, the way you laughed with me, the way you trusted me again, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I couldn’t stay with her knowing my heart was never really hers.

I stared at the messages, my chest tightening with every word Matt had sent. The weight of his confession crushed me—knowing I had somehow unraveled someone else’s world just by being in his. My hands were shaking as I read the last text, and before I could stop myself, I hurled my phone at the wall. The loud crack echoed through the room, and I collapsed onto the bed, sobs ripping out of me uncontrollably.

The reaction Im having—the tears, the screaming, the sheer weight of guilt—felt too big for just this moment. This wasn’t just about Abbie or her messages. This was about Matt. About the unresolved pain he’d left behind when we fell apart the first time. All the love, the heartbreak, and the unanswered questions I had buried were clawing their way back now. Maybe it was about every piece of hurt I had never let myself feel, every wound I had never allowed to heal. The emotions surged through me, spilling out in the form of screams and tears, and I didn’t care who heard.

The door to my room flew open, and Charlie rushed in. Her face was stricken with concern as she immediately pulled me into her arms, holding me tight. She didn’t say anything, didn’t ask what was wrong. She just sat there with me, letting me cry into her shoulder as she rubbed my back softly.

Minutes passed, maybe longer—time felt like it stopped. Finally, Charlie whispered, “Chris told me everything. You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. I get it.”

I sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at her. My voice was hoarse as I said, “Grab my phone. Read Abbie’s messages.”

Charlie hesitated for a moment but nodded, moving to where my phone lay on the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, I heard a crunch. Her face fell as she straightened up, holding the shattered device.

“Y/n…” she started, but I just shook my head, fresh tears spilling down my face. It felt like everything was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Charlie sat back down beside me, pulling me into another hug, and this time, I didn’t resist.

A couple of hours passed in silence, the weight of everything still heavy in the air. Charlie hadn’t left my side, even when her phone buzzed with messages from Chris. She had simply told him she wouldn’t be answering for a while and to take care of things without her for the day. I was grateful she hadn’t pushed me to talk, letting me sit in my mess without judgment.

Finally, Charlie broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “Do you want to get out of the house? Maybe get a new phone or something?”

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah... that might be good.”

Dragging myself off the couch, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way to my room. My hair was a mess, my face puffy from crying, and the oversized clothes I wore didn’t help. Disappointment clawed at my chest as I compared myself to Abbie—her perfect hair, her confident smile, the way she looked so effortlessly put together. 

I sighed, pushing the thoughts away as best I could, and grabbed a pair of jean shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. Slipping on my worn Converse, I picked up the shattered remains of my phone from the nightstand and made my way downstairs.

Charlie was already waiting by the door with her keys, offering me a small, reassuring smile. I managed to return it faintly as we stepped out into the sunlight and climbed into her car. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small step toward normalcy.

As Charlie drove, the quiet hum of the car was broken only by the faint sound of the radio. My mind wandered, lost in the haze of everything that had happened. My heart felt heavy, my thoughts a mess of confusion, guilt, and something I couldn’t quite name.

Suddenly, the soft, dreamy notes of "You Get Me So High" by The Neighbourhood drifted through the speakers. My chest tightened, and I immediately felt like I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just a song—it was our song. The one we played on repeat in his car, on lazy afternoons, during nights we swore we’d never forget.

And then, like a tidal wave, the memory of the letter he left me that day came crashing down. The letter I read a hundred times, the one I had hidden away but could never truly forget. "You’re my best friend. I love you forever."

My eyes burned, and I blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill. But the words replayed in my head over and over, his voice almost as if he were sitting beside me.

“Y/n, you okay?” Charlie asked softly, glancing over as we stopped at a red light.

I turned to her and nodded, forcing a smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure I was.

The song continued, weaving its way into my thoughts, and all I could do was stare out the window, clutching my broken phone like it was the only thing holding me together.

Charlie and I made our way to Best Buy first. I wasn’t expecting much, but the thought of getting a new phone—especially since I hadn’t had one since college—felt like a small thing that might help take my mind off everything else. I felt a bit silly for even getting excited, but it was nice to think about something so simple.

We walked through the aisles, and Charlie was showing me the new and different iphone models, suggesting a few options. I didn’t really care about all the technical specs, just that it would work, and it would be a change from the old phone I’d been hanging onto for far too long. Eventually, I picked out a black phone pro max that felt sleek and sturdy. It was nothing extravagant, but it was definitely an upgrade. It felt good to know I was finally getting a new one.

Charlie smiled when she saw me eyeing it. "I like the pro max way more. You’ll love it."

We went up to the register, and after a few minutes, I had my brand-new phone in hand. As we left the store, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. It wasn’t anything huge, but it was a little win in a day that had been filled with so many mixed emotions.

As we continued with the rest of the shopping—picking up a few random things at the mall and grabbing snacks. When we got in the car to head to dinner, I hadn’t even opened the phone yet. I kept it in its box, feeling like maybe it was best to leave it for later.

We decided on an Italian restaurant nearby, Charlie and I’s comfort food. Charlie tried her best to keep the mood light, talking about everything from old college days to random drama on the internet, and I found myself laughing along.

"So, when are you going to open that new phone?" she asked as we got into the car, pointing to the box in my lap. "Come on, I know you're dying to check it out."

I hesitated, looking at the phone. “I don’t know,” I said, finally. “It’s kind of dumb, part of me’s kind of excited about it. It’s just a phone, but I don't feel like having it right now, you know?”

Charlie laughed. “I get it. It’s the little things, right? You’ve had the same one forever.”

I nodded, putting the phone back in its box. “Yeah, you would think with our jobs being on my phone I would've gotten a new one.”

Charlie drove us back home, I felt a little lighter. I hadn’t solved everything, but at least for tonight, I had something to focus on other than the mess in my head.

When we finally got home, the night air cool and crisp, Charlie and I sat down on the couch, and she grabbed my new phone from its box, her fingers quick as she started setting it up for me.

"Ready to join the world again?" she teased, handing me the phone once it was all set up.

I nodded, taking it from her with a soft smile. I hesitated for a moment before turning the screen on. As the phone came to life, I felt a little jolt of excitement, and I started to type in my passwords, getting everything back to where it needed to be.

Then, the notifications came through. Text after text popped up, and I quickly saw a few names I recognized—Chris, Matt, and Nick. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Matt's name, but I kept scrolling, trying not to overthink it.

The first text was from Chris: "Hey, just checking in. How are you doing? Call me if you need to talk."

I smiled softly at that. Chris always knew how to check in without being overwhelming.

Then there was Matt: "I know you probably need time, but just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you. Please text me when you’re ready."

I bit my lip, conflicted. Matt had been so kind, but there was still so much I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to dive back into that just yet.

And then there was Nick: "Yo, can we get pizza?"

I giggled at Nick’s utter unawareness. 

But then, the final message caught my attention. It was from a random number. I opened it, and my stomach dropped. The message was exactly like the others I’d read, but this one was... different. It felt like a sting.

“Why are you doing this? Do you really think you’re the one he wants now? You’ve always been a mess, and he’s not the guy for you. I warned him, but you wouldn’t listen. You’re nothing but a distraction.”

It was from Abbie. I was furious now, wondering how the hell she even got my number. My hands were shaking as I read the message.

I felt Charlie's eyes on me, and before I could say anything, she snatched the phone from my hands. “How the fuck did she get your number?” she hissed, fury clear on her face. “This is done now.”

I didn’t say anything at first, too caught up in the anger and confusion. Charlie was already typing something into her phone, her fingers flying across the screen.

“Normally I’d say take the high road," I muttered, swiping the message away. "But I need Matt. I don’t care anymore."

Charlie didn’t even glance up from her phone, her voice a mix of determination and protectiveness. “You and Matt need each other, and this bitch needs to fuck off. I get that she’s hurt, but she cannot talk to you like this.”

I leaned back into the couch, closing my eyes and letting out a shaky breath. Charlie’s words washed over me, I felt truly supported. Things weren’t going to be perfect right away, but with her by my side, I knew I didn’t need anyone else to be okay.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar-deactivated202 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274

[cyraclove]

14 🤲🥺

14. A kiss to the stomach

Chrissy stands at the bathroom counter as she opens a cheerfully purple box marked Ovulation Predictor Test. She chews her lip as she unfolds the creased instruction page to peer at the tiny print.

A pamphlet from her obstetrician that reads ‘How easy is it to plan a winter baby?’ lays near the sink, a squishy infant with a fleece hat shooting her a gummy grin from the center of the page.

Sighing, Chrissy runs a hand through her hair.

When she and Eddie had decided to stop using birth control, she hadn’t been prepared for trying to get pregnant being as complicated as advanced calculus.

And she’d been really bad at calculus.

Before her annual earlier that month, she hadn’t known that things like ovulation tests existed. Naively, she’d thought that she and Eddie would just… have sex and make a baby.

Turns out it’s a lot more involved than that.

“Alrighty, looks like we’re just doing the pap today,” Dr. Whitman had said at Chrissy’s last appointment. “Give me one minute to put your vitals in the system here and then we’ll go ahead and get started.”

“Oh, take your time,” Chrissy had replied politely.

She’d glanced down at her socked feet as they hung off the side of the exam bed, absently twisting the hem of the thin, blue gown she was wearing.

Her pulse fluttered against her throat when she’d looked up at the framed poster on the wall in front of her titled Pregnancy & Birth.

The thought of a life growing inside of her—a fragile combination of chromosomes with ten tiny fingers and two little eyes—was as wonderful as it was terrifying.

“Um, actually,” Chrissy had started with an odd sort of trembly joy in her chest. “We’ve—I mean, my husband and I—we’ve decided to start trying for a baby. That’s, um, probably something I should’ve mentioned before.”

“Oh, that’s great news! Congratulations,” Dr. Whitman had said with a wide smile. “How exciting.”

“Yeah, we’re excited.”

“Have you already stopped using contraception?”

“Yes, maybe… around three weeks ago? I was using a diaphragm.”

“And you’ve had intercourse since?”

Chrissy’s cheeks had gone hot. This is your doctor, she reminded herself. That’s a normal question to ask.

“Yes.”

She’d fidgeted on the exam bed, paper crinkling beneath her as she tried not to think about the last time she and Eddie had had sex.

About the deliciously filthy things he’d whispered in her ear while he’d fucked her from behind, his hand at the back of her neck.

That hadn’t seemed like an appropriate thing to think about in a doctor’s office. It sent a tingly little shiver up her spine, anyway.

“You said the first day of your last period was the eleventh?”

Chrissy had cleared her throat.

“That’s right.”

Dr. Whitman nodded as she’d clacked on her keyboard. Turning back to Chrissy, she clasped her hands together.

“Well, Chrissy. Let’s go ahead and do some bloodwork while you’re here. There’s a chance that you may already be pregnant.”

Chrissy’s heart had flown into her throat.

“Really?”

“It’s certainly possible. Might as well go ahead and check, right?”

Twenty torturously long minutes later, Dr. Whitman had come back into the room with a look on her face that told Chrissy all she needed to know.

“Don’t worry. No two couples are the same,” Dr. Whitman assured her. “Just because you haven’t conceived yet doesn’t mean you won’t.”

Chrissy had driven home with a new hollowness in her heart, a melancholic longing for something she hadn’t even known she wanted.

“What’s the verdict, sweetness? Are we procreating today?”

Chrissy startles, the husky warmth of a familiar voice pulling her back to the present.

She looks up to see Eddie leaning against the doorframe, his mouth twisted into that impishly handsome grin of his. Her stomach flutters a bit, just like it had the first time she’d seen it.

"Eddie. You scared me," Chrissy chides halfheartedly. "And did you just use the word procreate?"

“Yeah, baby, you and me," Eddie says, stepping toward Chrissy to twine his arms around her waist. "We’re repopulating the planet, remember?”

Splaying her hands over Eddie's chest, Chrissy absentmindedly hooks a finger into the silver chain dangling from his neck as she looks up at him.

“How about we start with one?”

Eddie knits his brow in mock contemplation.

“I can agree to those terms, I guess. Just remember that we’re humanity’s last hope.”

Pushing herself up onto her toes, Chrissy presses her lips to Eddie's. He hums softly against her mouth as his grip on her waist tightens.

"What'd your test say, huh?" he asks eagerly, gravelly and low. "We got the green light to go ahead and get started?"

“Ugh,” Chrissy groans, pulling away with a frustrated sigh. “Eddie, this is just so weird.”

Eddie blinks.

"I’m sorry, Chris," he says sincerely, "I was really just kidding, sweetheart. Shit, I didn’t mean t—“

“No, not that,” Chrissy clarifies, softening a bit. “Just… this. The calendars and the tests. Scheduling sex. It feels very… clinical. Mechanical.”

With a knowing nod, Eddie rests his forehead against hers before pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah. Yeah, I get where you’re coming from," he agrees. "Like a science experiment, or something."

“Yes. It’s not very romantic. And it doesn’t..." Chrissy trails off in a small voice, shrinking away from Eddie's gaze.

"Doesn't what, baby?"

"It doesn't make me feel very sexy," Chrissy replies, whispering the word sexy like it's a secret she's not meant to be telling.

She lets out a little yelp of surprise when Eddie turns her towards the bathroom mirror, planting his chin on her shoulder as he hugs her from behind.

“I'm sorry, have you seen you? You melt my face off. Like those Nazi guys in that one Indiana Jones movie.”

Wrinkling her nose, Chrissy bites back a laugh.

“Eddie, gross.”

“Seriously, though. I hear you," Eddie tells her, meeting her eye in the mirror. "I get it. I wanna do… whatever you need me to do to keep it fun. ‘Cause we have fun, right?”

“We do,” Chrissy agrees, suddenly bashful. “A lot of fun.”

“Yeah, we do, sweetheart. We can still have fun even though we’re trying to make a lil’ munchkin.”

Those words out of Eddie's mouth make Chrissy's heart go wobbly, her knees a little weaker than before. Even still, she can't seem to shake the uneasy weirdness of the whole situation.

“I know, I just feel like a… I don’t know," she sighs. "I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like we’re just baby-making machines or something.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes darken as they fall to the cut of Chrissy's blouse, a look of wolfish want on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Christine Elizabeth," Eddie starts, clearing his throat. "Light of my life. Apple of my eye. I hate to have to tell you this, but that’s so hot.”

Chrissy all but whips her head around as she cranes her neck to look back at Eddie.

“What?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. That just made this whole thing a lot sexier.”

“I don't even... How?”

Eddie's fingers are in the belt loops of Chrissy's jeans then, turning her in his arms to face her before he sinks to his knees. Kneeling at her feet, his hands slip beneath the hem of her shirt.

Squirming, Chrissy threads her fingers through Eddie's mess of dark curls. Her breath hitches when his lips ghost along the swell of her stomach, leaving a tickly kiss just below her navel.

“Christ, just… thinking about knocking you up drives me fuckin’ crazy.”

Chrissy's cheeks burn hot, stomach swooping.

"You're serious?"

"Oh, baby," Eddie groans, dragging his thumbnail along the teeth of Chrissy's zipper. "You have no idea."

"So, you... you don't mind that it's taking longer than we thought it would? What if it takes forever?"

Eddie tips his head to look up at Chrissy with his wide, whiskey-warm eyes. When he smiles, there's something wild in it that crackles up the length of Chrissy's spine.

"Guess we won't know if we don't try."

KISS ROULETTE!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam got Abel to hold the phone as he face timed his husband, he wanted to show Lucifer the progress he was making.

He could walk with things that looked like crutches but had arm holes for him to have a better grip.

Lucifer: Look at you go! Charlie come look.

Charlie came over and gasped: That's amazing mama!

Adam smiled and sat down: How is everything down there?

Charlie: Great! I think they really like it.

Abel: I think you just really like that angel.

Charlie flushed pink and glared, even though Abel wasn't in the frame she wanted to smack her brother.

Charlie: You're one to talk.

Adam: Okay okay, my phone please.

Abel handed it over.

Lucifer: How have things been? No trouble?

Adam: Lilith tried coming around once but Sera quickly told her to leave. On a good note, the babies are even doing really well.

He rubbed his belly and showed Lucifer his bump, it was big and perfect.

The Fall Au

The earth shook with the sheer impact of the fall that it created a massive crater. Lucifer groaned as he held his love tight to him, he didn't want Adam getting hurt and it was very painful.

Lucifer: Dove? Adam?

Adam looked up at him and coughed, dust coming out of his lungs. He felt so weak and dizzy.

Adam: Luci?

Lucifer: Addie, are you okay?

Adam teared up: I-I-I don't feel good.

He started coughing and shaking, he was freezing. Adam screamed as he felt pain in his head.

Lucifer ripped off the lower half of his robe and wrapped it around Adams along with his wings.

This isn't good.

Adam: It hurts so much.

Lucifer: Don’t worry, I will help you, we just need shelter.

Adam cried as Lucifer used his magic to create a palace. It was a gothic style version of the palace in Heaven. Lucifer carried Adam into the palace holding him close to him.

Lucifer: I have you my dove.

Adam: I trust you Luci.

Once in the room Adam was placed in the bed as Lucifer held him. Adam screamed as he felt his body change. It was trying to make it so his body was suited to the atmosphere of Hell. But since he didn’t die, his body could only do so much. Adam cried more as Lucifer held him close.

Lucifer: I’m not leaving you my love. We will be together forever.

Adam gave a sad smile, his beautiful teeth had become shark like fangs.

Adam: I love you and I am so sorry, but I didn’t want to leave you.

Lucifer: You don’t need to apologize. I love you too and I don’t want to leave you.

Adam fell asleep and Lucifer looked over the changes Adam went through.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[barsformars]

jealousy

//

g - angst, comfort

p - seonghwa x reader

w.c - 929

t.w - reader is insecure and experiences some retroactive jealousy

a.n - it is tough, and ive been there, but insecurity really hurts both parties so! i try to keep that in mind

//

seonghwa notices the way your gaze on him changes through the few weeks you've been together. you used to look at him in awe, adoration and love but by the next week, the adoration have dimmed and by the following week, the awe have turned into envy. and the envy turned into furrowed eyebrows and heavy eyelids. seonghwa was afraid if he looked any further down he would see the corner of your lips twitch in displeasure. do you not love him anymore? has he become ugly in your eyes already?

"love?"

"yeah?" you replied half-heartedly as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, making a mental note of every flaw you had. worse still, you secretly compared yourself to his exes. it consumed every inch of you and haunted you every waking moment, compelling you to go onto their social media pages, zooming into every detail of them. what made their eyes so beautiful that seonghwa fell in love with them? what made their nose so cute that he wanted his kids to have it too? what made their lips so captivating that he wanted to make them smile all the time?

and why then, you? anyone close to seonghwa knows he has a type. it is one thing to be the ghost of someone else, but it is another to be the complete opposite of what he loves.

seonghwa waits for you to turn around but you don't, still too preoccupied with your thoughts to even give him a second of your time.

“love,” he said it louder this time, snapping you out of your self-hating mind, “can i have your attention please?”

you turn to look at your partner who was already under the blanket, skin all glowy from his night time routine, hair perfectly framing his chiseled face. how effortless. you were so consumed by his appearance that you don’t notice how sadness was gnawing at him.

seonghwa tries hard to phrase the words correctly in his head, because he doesn't want you to start detesting his heart too. but the silence in the room becomes too unbearable and the question escapes him before he could think twice.

"why do you look at me with so much disgust nowadays?"

your eyes widened in surprise. you didn’t realise you were being that transparent.

“i’m sorry, i-i love you…it’s just,” you blurted before quickly stopping. how do you explain yourself without sounding immature and nonsensical?

dejection has completely taken over your lover’s face as he tries to comprehend what you are going through. it’s hard to feel loved when you have turned so cold but as he is, there is always a small matchstick in seonghwa’s heart to keep it warm enough for others. he beckons you over to join him in bed, his arms wide open for you.

maybe it’s the guilt or ego that has you frozen in place, eyes glued to the floor as your brain tries to scramble possible ways to say it without sounding confrontational. but as they say, birds of a feather flock together and you speak your mind as seonghwa did.

“you wish i look like your exes, don’t you?”

seonghwa’s jaw is left agape at your question.

“i know, i know you love me because i’m smart and kind and funny all that yada yada yada,” you quickly followed up with an elaboration with the adjectives he usually described you with, “but my appearance is subpar, right?” you concluded on your own.

seonghwa don’t know who planted these seeds in your head because never once has any of those thoughts crossed his mind. sure, you did look pretty different from his past partners, but that was purely coincidence.

“love, just because my exes look kind of the same does not mean i only appreciate those physical traits,” seonghwa explained.

“of course you would say that,” you retorted, “and besides, you think im way below your league, right?”

seonghwa shook his head immediately, “if i truly thought that, why would i be with you?” at this point, he was already slowly making his way towards you, his indoor slippers shuffling against the wooden floor.

“i don’t know, and i’m perpl-“ as he stood in front of you, seonghwa reached out to cup your face in his slender hands, hushing you. his heart shatters when you shun him, intentionally or not, but he catches you nevertheless. gently lifting your head up to look at you, his shattered heart crumbles even more when a teardrop rolls down your cheek.

“love,” seonghwa calls out to you firmly this time. “why do you have such thoughts? how can i make you feel more loved?” even at moments like this, when you are accusing him on hurtful things, he could let slide and shift the focus on you. and you realise how stupid your thoughts have been.

the tears start gushing down and they don’t stop. “i’m sorry, i love you seonghwa…” he pulls you into his chest and pats your head lovingly. he heaved a sigh as he tries to patch up his own heart too. it really does hurt him to see you like this.

“my love, we all know that there are plenty of very attractive people out there in the world,” seonghwa said when you cooled down a little.

“however, there is a reason why you chose to be with me, and i chose to be with you. it’s not wrong to want to look better, and i appreciate it, but don’t ever doubt my feelings towards and for you.”

[growth-opportunities]

source

"Babe, can you hand me another bottle? I'm still way too small."

Your girlfriend had found out about your special interests. There was a time when she was weirded out by it, but she's since seen the light. Now she's even more into size than you are (to a slightly concerning level), and is determined to make both your fantasies real.

One pill at a time.

I can still remember the night that my fantasy became our fantasy. I was scrolling on my phone, as I often do before settling into bed, when I could hear the shift in her breathing. Her breasts sat heavy on her chest, easily doubling their previously impressive size. She had thought her H cups were big, but these gargantuan breasts would have made her old self look puny. They dominated her torso, her pale skin covered in a web of veins. Her nipples had grown, too, easily as thick as my thumb, practically quivering as arousal overwhelmed her. Her sudden grip on my arm dragged me away from my phone and, god, the lust in her eyes when her gaze met mine. "Fuck... Fuck... They're so... They're so sensitive. I can feel everything. I can feel the fucking air. It's going to make me lose my mind." Her attempt to placate me, to get me riled up, was a little obvious, a little forced, so I decided to get back at her by leaning in and gently blowing over her breast. I got maybe a second and a half into it before her whole body tensed and she let out a deep, desperate moan, clasping her hand over her mouth as her hips writhed beneath her. Unless she had been taking some serious acting classes without my knowledge, the orgasm that wracked her body was genuine. Sweat trickled down her cheek as she met my gaze again, her eyes glazed over, her chest heaving. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, swallowing to wet her throat. Finally, she managed to whisper a single word: "Bigger."

It wasn't uncommon for her to throw herself wholeheartedly into whatever she was doing and this was no exception. Bottles seemed to empty faster and faster, the growth accelerating just as much. Some women would be panicked to wake up and find themselves unable to heft their own tits off the bed. My girlfriend decided to spend that day on top of them, bucking her hips against them. The pleasure only encouraged her, narrowly managing to get her out of the house before her tits could no longer fit between door frames. Putting up a party tent in the backyard seemed like a good solution, but the daily, unending growth made it obvious that it was a temporary solution at best. I tried to talk her into maybe slowing down a little, maybe even stopping, but she just laughed. Neither of us really wanted it. I was just afraid. She wasn't. "Come on, baby. We've both read all those stories you've bookmarked. Now, go get my another bottle so I can outgrow this tent. Then there's the block, the neighborhood, the city..." She giggled, a ripple moving through the wall of tit that rose above her head. Almost six feet out in front of her, her nipples stiffened. "Ask yourself: haven't you ever wanted to live on a planet of tit?" I felt a little numb as I handed her the bottle, watching her greedily swallow the pills. I genuinely couldn't tell if that was a joke anymore. And, worse, I liked it too much for it to really matter.

[antinousletmehit]

୨୧┇THIS IS FROM APHRODITES GAMBLE SERIES‼️‼️

୨୧┇for context to read the other backstory Drabbles between the two. Also this one’s gonna focus more on how Antinous became a shitty person. @lover-lyn

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The Ithacan night market was alive with flickering lanterns, loud chatter, and a haze of spices, smoke, and ale that filled the cool night air. Stalls lined the narrow streets, selling everything from roasted meats to fine silks, while performers and musicians entertained the bustling crowds. Amid it all, Antinous strode confidently, his younger sister trailing close behind, clutching his sleeve tightly.

“Antinous, are you sure about this?” She asked nervously, glancing around at the shadowy figures that loomed in the crowded streets. “It doesn’t feel safe here.”

“It’s fine,” he said dismissively, his eyes scanning the market. “We don’t have a choice. These fight rings pay well, and if I win, we’ll have enough for food and maybe a proper place to sleep for once.”

“But what if you get hurt?” she pressed, her grip tightening. Antinous smirked, ruffling her hair. “I won’t. You’ve seen me fight before. I’ll be fine. Just stick close to me, alright?” She nodded reluctantly, her unease clear in her wide eyes.

As they moved through the market, Antinous’s attention began to waver. He spotted a group of women near a jewelry stall, laughing and tossing flirtatious glances in his direction. Their brightly colored dresses shimmered in the lantern light, and their alluring smiles were hard to ignore. For a moment, Antinous forgot himself. “Stay right here, Y/n,” he said, gesturing to a nearby crate. Without waiting for her reply, he strode toward the women, his trademark swagger on full display.

She froze, her heart racing. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to keep him in sight, but the crowd shifted, and he disappeared from view “Antinous?” she called, her voice trembling. She took a hesitant step forward, the bustling market suddenly feeling like a maze of strangers and shadows. Her breathing quickened as the sounds of the market grew louder, almost deafening. She clutched the edges of her cloak, weaving through the crowd in a desperate attempt to find her brother. The bright lights and unfamiliar faces swirled around her, and panic set in.

“Antinous!” she cried, tears welling in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Antinous was laughing at some comment one of the women had made, his usual charm on full display. But as he turned to glance back at his sister, his smile faded.

She was gone.

“Y/n?” he called, his voice sharp with urgency.

The women around him looked confused as he abruptly turned away, shoving through the crowd. His heart pounded as he scanned the market, cursing himself under his breath. “Y/n!” he shouted, his eyes darting frantically between the stalls and faces.

Y/n, meanwhile, was crouched near a dark corner, her small frame trembling as she tried to make herself invisible from the chaotic crowd. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, “Antinous, where are you?” Finally, Antinous spotted her, huddled in the shadows like a lost child. Relief flooded him as he pushed past a vendor and dropped to his knees in front of her.

“Y/n,” he breathed, reaching out to pull her into his arms. She flinched at first, then buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I was so scared,” she choked out. “I thought you left me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Antinous said, his voice thick with guilt. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, not even for a second.”

She clung to him tightly, her fingers digging into his tunic. “Don’t ever do that again,” she begged.

“I won’t,” he promised, stroking her hair. “I swear, y/n. Never again.”

He stood, lifting her to her feet and keeping a firm hold on her hand. The fight ring could wait. Tonight, all that mattered was making sure Pandora felt safe again. Little did she know she’d have to cherish the last memory of antinous before he became someone else in that arena.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The underground fight ring was alive with roaring cheers, drunken laughter, and the clinking of coins exchanging hands. Antinous stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving as he raised his bruised arms in victory. Blood trickled from a split on his lip, but his smirk was triumphant. The crowd adored him, chanting his name as bets were settled and ale spilled in celebration.

Y/n sat in the shadows near the edge of the ring, her small hands clenched tightly around the hem of her cloak. She watched her brother with a mix of pride and worry. Antinous had become a star in the fight ring, earning not only money but also the fame. But with every victory, she saw less and less of the brother she once knew.

When the fight was over, Antinous was escorted back to his room by the fight ring’s manager, a large man with a crooked smile. Y/N trailed behind, as she always did, her presence barely acknowledged by the crowd. Inside the modest room, which smelled faintly of sweat and blood, Antinous threw himself onto the bed, grinning as the manager handed him a hefty pouch of coins.

“Biggest win yet, kid,” the manager said with a chuckle. “You’re a real crowd pleaser. And as a reward…” He motioned to the doorway, where a beautiful woman stepped in, her painted lips curling into a seductive smile. She carried an air of confidence that made y/n shrink back into the corner of the room.

“This one’s for you, champ,” the manager said, clapping Antinous on the shoulder before leaving.

Antinous blinked at the woman, his grin widening. “Well, this is new.”

Pandora’s heart sank as she realized what was happening. “Antinous,” she said softly, stepping closer. “I—I don’t like this.”

Antinous waved her off, not even looking at her. “Y/n, go wait outside. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“But—”

“Y/n,” he said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. Her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded and turned toward the door, clutching her cloak tightly around her. She stepped outside into the cold hallway, the wooden door closing firmly behind her. Sliding down the wall opposite the door, she hugged her knees to her chest. The muffled sound of moans and yells from within the room made her stomach churn. She pressed her forehead against her knees, trying to block it all out, but the tears came anyway.

“I hate this,” she whispered to herself, her voice shaking. “I hate this life. I hate him for doing this.”

The night stretched on, and the hallway grew colder. Y/n shivered as she sat there, her sobs growing quieter with exhaustion. She couldn’t understand how the brother who had once promised to protect her had changed so much, how he could prioritize a stranger over her. A while after the room finally fell silent, the door creaked open after a bit, and Antinous stepped out. His expression was unreadable as he glanced down at his sister, who refused to meet his gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly, kneeling in front of her.

She didn’t respond, her face hidden against her knees.

Antinous sighed, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “My bad…” he murmured, his voice unusually gentle. “I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have made you wait out here.”

Still, she didn’t move, but her trembling gave her away. Antinous’s chest tightened with guilt. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close despite her weak attempts to push him away.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I promise. I’ll do better.”

She finally looked up at him, her tear-streaked face filled with hurt. “You always say that,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

But Antinous didn’t argue. He carried her back into the room, laying her on the bed and wrapping her in a thin blanket. Separate from the one on the bed where the woman seemed to be asleep sitting beside her, he watched her fall into an uneasy sleep, the weight of his choices pressing heavily on his shoulders.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The glow of the underground tavern flickered across Antinous’s sharp features as he leaned casually against the bar, a confident smirk playing on his lips. The fight ring crowd was still buzzing with excitement from his latest victory, and Antinous basked in the attention. Coins jingled in his pouch, drinks were shoved into his hands, and, most noticeably, a striking woman had draped herself across his arm, laughing at his every word.

Y/n sat at a small table in the corner, her legs tucked up onto the chair as she gnawed on a piece of bread Antinous had bought with his winnings. She watched him from a distance, her brows furrowed. She didn’t like the way the woman looked at her brother or how Antinous seemed so wrapped up in her, as if nothing else mattered.

“Antinous,” she said softly when she finally gathered the courage to approach him. She tugged on his sleeve, trying to catch his attention. “It’s late. Can we go back to the room now?”

Antinous barely glanced at her, too engrossed in whatever flirtatious comment the woman had just whispered in his ear. “Not now, Y/n,” he said dismissively, brushing her hand away.

She frowned, her voice rising slightly. “But you promised we’d leave after the fight. I’m tired—”

“I said not now!” Antinous snapped, his tone sharper than he intended.

She recoiled, her lips trembling. “You promised,” she muttered, her voice small.

Antinous sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He crouched down to her level, lowering his voice. “Y/n, just… go back to the room on your own, alright? I’ll be back later.”

Her eyes widened. “But it’s dangerous at night. You said I shouldn’t walk alone.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said impatiently, standing up. “You know the way.”

She hesitated, staring at him as if trying to understand why her brother, her protector, was acting this way. But Antinous had already turned back to the woman, laughing at something she said as he let her pull him toward a private corner of the tavern.

Swallowing her tears, Pandora trudged out into the cold night, clutching her cloak tightly around her. The streets were dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls as the lanterns swayed in the wind. Every sound, a distant footstep, a whisper of movement, made her jump. She tried to walk faster, but the growing lump in her throat made it hard to focus. When she finally reached their shared room, it was empty and quiet. She curled up on the small cot, her knees pulled to her chest as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

Hours later, the door creaked open, and Antinous drunkly stumbled in. His tunic was rumpled, his hair tousled. He froze when he saw his sister’s tear streaked face. Almost as if he sobered up.

“Y/n,” he said softly, guilt flashing in his eyes.

She didn’t respond, turning her face away from him. Antinous sat on the edge of the cot, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “Damn uh…my fault,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

“You keep saying that,” she said quietly, her voice raw. “But you always do it again.”For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. He sat there in silence, staring at his hands. “I’ll do better,” he finally said, but to her, the promise felt hollow.

She didn’t reply, curling tighter into herself. Antinous stayed by her side, not bothering to try and hold her, tell her that it’ll be okay. The weight of his actions settling heavily on his shoulders.

Antinous shitty Brother Nation