#ir radiation

[3liza]

I've mentioned this before and I have done exhaustive research and asked reddit and done all my due diligence but can not find any corroboration whatsoever, HOWEVER: I am dead positive that being in the path of an infrared heater makes me fall asleep faster than anything else.

maybe it's placebo. I know about all the infrared health claims and some of it is woo and some of it probably has some validity but I find nothing anywhere from anyone who also acts like theyve been dart-tranquilized if they turn their radiant heater on. the heater is just a normal little cheap space heater and it doesn't smell like offgassing so I don't think I'm being poisoned, but.....it's so consistent I think I'm going to have to start acting like it's real even though I still don't really believe in the connection. it's certainly possible that just being a little bit warm and comfy is conking me out but the same thing doesn't happen with heating pads or blankets or sweaters, JUST the heater. and it happens with all infrared heaters, not just this one.

[mrswagtastic]

Leslie cube

[dhampir-dyke]

OKAY LOOK..... ME WHEN I WAS 16 VS ME NOW AT 22..... WOAG.......

[ronandhermy]

i legitimately need my co-workers to stop saying "oh you'll most likely never see this type of case, those are super rare." BECAUSE I AM BESIEGED BY THESE SUPER RARE CASES AND HAVING VISIONS

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Figure 8.3 shows a plot of Mλ versus λ for different temperatures.

"Environmental Chemistry: A Global Perspective", 4e - Gary W. VanLoon & Stephen J. Duffy

[willyoubemycherryy]

Minor Pains (Bo Chow x r)

Summary: Just a lil something to take the edge off…

Contains: Flirting, petnames, kinda smut, kissing, Bo has a dirty mouth and it’s canon, he’s also the head chief leading professor in eatemdownnomics, cursing, established relationships, they close shop early for this, refers to himself ONCE as daddy deal with it, he’s fine as hell good lord

A/N: He’s my man😐.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉

Well, you’re miserable.

Standing behind the counter, you watch the few customers get their last minute shopping in since y’all closed in less than an hour. It honestly hadn’t been your day. The weather was shit, your bra was too tight on top of being annoyed and your lower body was screaming at you to go sit your ass down.

Irritation radiated off you in waves and the people who came by to buy could tell; avoiding even looking at you. Instead, they’d go find Bo and give their payment directly to him rather than face your glare and painfully sharp tongue.

You don’t blame them.

So, you pout, watch and stalk behind the counter- sighing heavily. You lean on your elbows as you search the area for your husband except you can’t see him anywhere. Heaving out another incredibly inconvenienced sounding sigh, you get ready to go find him when big, warm familiar hands wind around your waist- settling on your lower stomach as Bo buries his face into the crook of your neck, body flush against yours when he inhales.

Goosebumps break across your skin as you shiver and you instinctively tilt your head to accept his affections. For a second, you forget how irritated you’ve been.

“What’s wrong, baby? Y’been lookin’ like that all day”. He mumbles into your ear, voice thick with concern and his southern drawl, his words have that honeyed effect and you feel somewhat softer.

“My ass hurts.” You answer back sweetly but the barely hidden ire along with the unexpectedness of your answer makes laughter bubble from his chest. You were always pissy when something annoyed you but he never minded it and truth be told, he was too sweet on you to care. But still, you were unhappy and as your man it was his job to rectify that.

Your face feels warmer when Bo leans down, placing a heavy kiss against your cheek, trailing them down your jawline to your throat. Unlike the kiss to your cheek, the ones being burned into your skin have you getting hotter all over. Bo’s kisses grow wetter with every kiss he sucks into your skin and it feels so feverish it’s like he’s on fire and you’re so close that you catch fire too. He trails his lips back to your ear real slow and your heart pounds in time with your clenching thighs.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

You scrunch your eyes shut at the slot of heat that bolts through you. He doesn’t let up, moving his hands up until they’re just below your breasts before moving them back down again. There’s nobody around and you’re truly grateful for that because when he presses himself against you hard enough for you to feel exactly what a couple minutes of loving on you does to him, you gasp.

It’s so desperate, so needy- that the sound goes straight to his head instantly and before he or you thinks to much about it, he goes to turn the sign from opened to closed then back around the counter to you, hands hot and heavy with promise and intent.

His lips kiss, lick, and suck everywhere on your throat they can reach and it’s so good that you can’t even feel embarrassed at how quick you’re ready for him, panties damp with your slick. Bo grips your hips real tight and starts to lift you up on the counter when you rush out,

“W-wait…the counters too hard for me to sit on right now..”, Bo stills for a bit, thinking then hums,

“ ‘S alright baby..”, a slow grin tilts the corner of his mouth as he drops to his knees instead, flipping your dress up. He hasn’t even done anything but you’re already breathing heavy, lip stuck between your teeth. You feel your panties being slid down your legs and the coolness has you suddenly aware of how wet you really are when Bo coos lowly at the mess you’ve made.

“Daddy’ll just kiss it better from here.”

You don’t know it yet, but you’re in for a long night.

[hyadez]

mmmm ive said before that hyades Gender Issues are partially related to andromedan stuff and i do think that accounts for like, half their dysphoria?

bc andromedans are functionally just. space slug-fungi people. they have multiple sets of sex organs + theyre shapeshifters so, the norm is for someone to be able to do everything. some ppl might have a preference? but i think this could also be relatively situational. i think hyades other parent (who is The Worst!) probably wouldnt ever want to give birth/lay eggs bc thats time consuming and hes extremely busy running space disney. but he sure does fuck, despite everyone wishing he wouldn't

i imagine uh. having a brain and body that is wired to have certain traits, but as a result of not being taught to shapeshift/human biology interactions, did fuck with hyades' internal sense of self. theres also the fact that their internal organs are..... very much not normal!

(hyades partially has normal human organs. the problem is sex organs, bones, and muscles do not work the same for andromedans. andromedans are... goopy? theyre not quite solid. and pre-accident hyades is half-solid in terms of bones and skin. its. not a good mix!)

the result is they feel physically restricted because they are! a significant portion of their body is supposed to be shifting, and they dont have control over it.

but also, they are just trans. theres other andromedan-human hybrids and not all of them are trans. (granted theres also.... only a handful worldwide i think.)

[sweemmy]

⋆｡ﾟEveryone expresses jealousy in their own way; some choose subtlety, but these three don’t hesitate to be clear and direct when it comes to what they want. ﾟ｡⋆

— VI, Caitlyn, and Sevika.

VI.

When someone dares to invade your personal space, Vi doesn’t hesitate for a second to step in, positioning herself right by your side. Her proximity is a silent, yet powerful declaration: you’re with her, and she doesn’t need words to make that abundantly clear.

She crosses her arms with an air of determination, a faint furrow forming between her brows, as if she’s measuring the other person, calculating every word, every movement. If the tension lingers, her posture stiffens, gradually transforming into something more formidable, like a storm silently gathering inside her, though she strives to maintain a composed exterior, a mask of calm.

She can’t help but release one of her signature remarks, dripping with sarcasm. As the other person speaks, she leans closer to you and, in a whisper sharp enough to be heard, she quips, “Oh, wow! Didn’t know you started a fan club. When did you begin signing autographs?”

Vi doesn’t do subtlety when something bothers her. If the situation gets under her skin, she’ll make it known. She pulls you closer with an unmistakable, possessive gesture—her arm wrapping around you, her fingers intertwining with yours, or without a second thought, she plants a kiss on you, making sure everyone nearby knows exactly where your heart belongs.

Later, when the noise fades and the world quiets down, she gazes at you with a special kind of gleam in her eyes, absentmindedly caressing your hand. With a sigh filled with emotions, she confesses—though clearly reluctant—that she simply can’t help herself when it comes to you.

CAITLYN.

Caitlyn remains calm, but her body language speaks volumes. Her head lifts with a quiet pride, and her posture straightens, radiating a silent authority that requires no words.

Her gaze never wavers, as if she’s evaluating every word and gesture, absorbing even the slightest detail. The conversation flows, yet there’s an ever-present tension, as though she’s measuring the truth of every action, searching for any hidden threat.

Rather than interrupting, she gently touches your arm or wraps her hand around your waist, guiding you with a tenderness that’s still unwaveringly firm. It's an invitation to focus entirely on her, a subtle yet commanding gesture. Her touch is never abrupt, but always resolute.

If the other person misses the signals, Caitlyn has no hesitation in steering the conversation with a seemingly casual remark, but one heavy with meaning: "Don’t you think we could use a little space here, darling?"

When the tension finally ebbs away, she pauses for a moment, then smiles at you with a hint of shyness. "It’s nothing," she says, "it’s just... I don’t like sharing what truly matters to me."

SEVIKA.

Sevika is an enigma, her behavior often difficult to decipher. Yet, when jealousy takes hold of her, her gaze becomes icy and defiant, and her words turn sharp, almost cutting, especially towards the one who has earned her ire.

She places you behind her or by her side, deliberately positioning herself as a physical shield between you and anyone who dares get too close.

When tension fills the air, words are unnecessary for her to express discontent. Her mere presence is enough to make most people take a step back, feeling the weight of her quiet authority.

If she feels the need to intervene, it's done decisively, without fanfare. In a low, dry tone, she might simply say, "Are you done here? Because we don't have all day."

In private, she'll share her frustration with you, but in a way that's brief, honest, and possessive. "I don't do drama, but I can't stand fools who don’t know how to respect boundaries. You're mine, end of story."

[majinbangus]

Maybe...Reader gets real angry at guarddog!ghost and make him sleep on the blanket. Or not letting him on couches/beds.

Because if they want to play it like this, she's alright. Actually, she has a second collar for Johnny.

Maybe

i was wanting to play with this idea ( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°) -> more here

He's gawping at the sight before him.

"What's goin' on here?"

When Soap came home, he wasn't really expecting anything different. Just you, your dog, and a nice warm welcome back from the both of you. But not this. He was expecting anything else but this.

Kneeling on the ground, below the couch and right next to your feet is Ghost, not in his usual spot on the couch where you would normally be sitting in his lap. Soap raises his brow curiously at the adorable disgruntlement on your face compared to the content amusement radiating off of the lieutenant turned guard dog.

"I'm in the doghouse," Ghost informs, tone oddly facetious considering the obvious trouble he's in with you. In fact, he appears proud when he twists to look up at you from his spot on the ground. "'Parently I was 'barking too much' whatever the hell that means. Just pointed out a few flaws in 'er logic about something."

You're quick to rebuke him. "Hey, I told you if you were going to bark, at least do it properly."

Soap can't hold back his amused smile at how assertive you sound. He looks to Ghost to see his reaction, and instead of acting chastised, there's a flippant sort of glee tinged with arousal when he speaks again, slow and dark, "Woof, woof, pet."

You squint at the endearment, silently debating with yourself if you should do something about the cheek, but ultimately let it slide. Soap shakes his head in disbelief, but also chuckles much like Ghost did. He walks over, stopping by the kneeling man, exchanging a knowing smirk with him.

"Why don't you go easy on the dog?" Soap suggests, taking on a more lenient approach as he pats Ghost's head, sharing an amused look with him. "He's always been a good boy, hasn't he?"

"Woof," Ghost repeats, pointedly looking at you.

"See?" Soap points out. "Obedient!"

"Keep talking and I'll put a collar on you too, MacTavish," You threaten, turning your ire on him. "Make you both sleep on a blanket instead of the bed."

An interesting thought, but as much as he likes seeing this side of you, he and Ghost will have to keep you humble before you bite off more than you can chew.

"Careful, sweets." Soap chuckles lowly, deepening his voice in that way that makes your thighs clench. He hears you gulp and an amused huff from Ghost as he flashes his canines, leaning a shadow over you and forcing you to look up at him from the couch. He lets his smile widen into something a little feral. "I gave you Ghost to take care of because he's good for first time dog owners. He's quick to listen and willing to please, but I don't think you can handle two dogs. Got that?"

You swallow thickly, properly chastened, and weakly nod your head. "Yes, sir."

"Good girl."

-

sorry in this au i think ghost is gonna be the only dog, although maybe you're all a little dog-coded here. also you and ghost would be the only dogs soap likes.

[bullet-prooflove]

Brown Eyed Boy: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis @oklahomapeach

Summary: The birth of your son doesn't quite go the way you'd planned.

Companion piece to:

Lines - It’s been a long time since Robby’s been attracted to someone like this.

Lipstick (NSFW) - It's love at first blow job for Dr Robby.

Crisis - Robby has a bad day.

ASMR For The Soul - Robby doesn't sleep when you're not around.

Bunny - Robby discovers you've been keeping secrets.

Something To Complain About (NSFW) - You ignite the ire of Robby's neighbour with your bedroom noises.

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

Poolside - When Robby's had a really shitty day he always ends up whereever you are.

The Betting Pool - Robby discovers that his collegues have been taking bets on his relationship.

Fifty Shades of Robby - Robby's collegues see the truth of his relationship when they find your Instagram.

Dumb Bitch - Robby exhibits his protective side when another man steps on his territory.

Stop Compressions, Start Compressions - Robby loses everything in the aftermath of Pittfest.

24 Hours - Robby refuses to leave your side in the aftermath of the shooting.

Saftey Rail - Abbot gets real with Robby when he finds him on the roof.

Baby, It's Gonna Be Alright - Robby wonders if he's fucked things up with you for good.

Exorcism (NSFW) - Robby and you finally find a way to be honest with one another.

Ready - Robby and you discuss starting a family in the aftermath of Pittfest.

The Rose - You give Robby a special gift for your anniversary.

Heartbeat - Robby finds something to help him sleep.

Jinx - Robby discovers a particular superstition of yours.

The Scary One - Robby and you face concerns during your second pregnancy scan.

Pop Tarts - You and Robby decorate the baby's nursery.

Brave Little Boy - Robby wakes up to the baby kicking and gets a suprise.

The baby takes after you, high speed, always in motion.

He wants to see the world, experience it but Robby isn’t ready and neither are you. In fact nobody’s ready for his appearance because he’s a month early but here you are on all fours on the rug as Robby’s hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, his reassuring voice in your ears.

Jack is Lord knows where behind you, getting a front row seat to the messiest fucked up show on this earth.

“You put the towel on the radiator?” He asks Robby as another contraction hits you, the urge to push is all consuming as you grind your teeth and press your cheek into the pillow on the floor.

“Will somebody tell me what the damn towel is for?” You snap, your hair plastered to your face as you huff out a pained breath.

“It’s just a precaution.” Robby reassures you but you do not feel reassured. You feel exhausted, pissed off and so close to your breaking point, every second word out of you mouth is a swear.

“Alright Allegra, I can see his head, I’m gonna need you to give me one big push to get him all the way there.” Jack tells you as you take a deep shuddering breath. “Come on, I know you can do it.”

“I fucking hate you.” You growl him, sweat running down your brow, your thighs trembling.

“Hate me later.” He responds with that rage inducing calmness of his. “But right now you gotta push.”

“Fuck you Jack, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you…”

The cursing helps, you don’t know why. Robby tells you later it’s because it triggers the "fight or flight" response, leading to increased pain tolerance and potentially a more powerful push. You don’t give a damn, you just know that your baby is born to the sound of you cussing out one of his guide parents.

You feel him leave your body and you sag forward into the cushion listening for his cry, but his cry it doesn’t come and something inside of you just dies because its happening all over again. You’re losing another baby.

“Robby…” You whisper, your hair falling over your face as the tears chase down your cheeks.

“This is what the warm towel is for.” He murmurs, his lips brushing over your temple as he leans down to your level. “Jack’s going to rub it on his back to stimulate him into taking his first breath.”

You understand now why they didn’t tell you about the towel, they didn’t want that thought in your head while you were trying to bring your son into the world. Robby helps you turn onto a sitting position, your back pressing against his chest as Jack snatches the towel off the radiator and begins to rub it over your son’s back.

“Come on baby.” He whispers, his motions becoming more vigorous. “I know you’ve got it in you.”

A loud wail cuts through the air and the relief hits you like a wrecking ball, flooding your nervous system as you watch your son take his first breath.

“He’s got a nice set of lungs for a preemie.” Jack approves as he leans forward and places the baby on your chest. You fold him into the shelter of your arms as he nestles against your heart looking up at you with those big brown eyes. Ones that look exactly  like his fathers. “You guys pick out a name yet?”

“Not yet.” Robby says, his chin comes to rest upon your shoulder as his fingertip trails over each of the baby’s tiny toes. “For now he’s just our beautiful brown eyed boy.”

Love Robby? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, momentary mean! Steve, established relationship, lil bit of angst, PIV sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, hate sex turned make up sex WC:2.2K

A/N: Why not? Enjoy!

"So we're still fighting, huh?", Steve narrows his eyes at you from the kitchen entry way.

He's a picture of disarray — shirt misbuttoned, belt buckle in need of fastening, tie draped loosely over his shoulders and hair a wild, mussed up mess.

His unruly state came to be as a result of forgetting to set his alarm after your heated exchange last night, waking to find he was running late for work and you hadn't bothered to rouse him like you usually would have.

His sarcastic barb goes seemingly unheard though when you refuse to look up from the dishes you're scrubbing in the sink, back still turned to him even though the crumbs from your breakfast of blueberry jam on toast have long been washed clean from your plate.

It was a disagreement blown out of proportion that had caused the friction between you two. Steve had hoped sleeping it off would help to cool your tempers enough to reconcile in the morning but now that seems as likely as him making it to work on time.

Or was it?

He sighs, a clear note of irritation coming through because he should be digging through the laundry basket in search of his socks before he tries to shove his feet inside his shoes without them again in his rush, not rooted in place, eyes dark and stony but taking you in.

Of course you'd try to give him blue balls on top of it all too.

He grits his teeth as he stares at you in your too short satin robe, every inch of your legs and thighs on display as the hem hangs high, just a few inches below the swell of your ass. Practically dangling yourself in front of him.

He enters the kitchen then and though it feels risky approaching you the way that he does, he recognizes that the air's thick with a familiar kind of tension when he comes up behind you.

Quickly and none too gently, he rucks up your robe to confirm a suspicion he'd been harboring. He finds you're nude underneath the thin, silky layer when you allow him just a glimpse, swatting his hand away with a look sharper than a knife's edge when your eyes connect with his over your shoulder.

But Steve knows better than to take it seriously. There's no ire behind your glare — no unspoken threat meant to make him retreat. You're still mad, sure, he can feel the heat radiating off of you just as it's made his own skin warm but your expression softens just enough to confirm that what you really want is for him to come closer. And that's exactly what he does.

You feel the warmth of Steve's chest pressing against your back when you turn to the sink once more, his arms caging you in place, leaving you no room to escape. The water continues to run until he closes the faucet too, leaning down to whisper into your ear. "This how you want to solve it?", he asks, pulling his hand back to lift your robe again only this time you don't attempt to thwart him, letting him cup your ass and squeeze your soft skin. Hard.

The heat of last night's fight had died down to a simmer but it left you both burning in a different, much more familiar way as you answer him.

"Yeah. This is how I want to do it", you utter loud enough for him to hear you clearly though this close together, there's nothing he can miss no matter how softly you might whisper it.

The sound of his belt coming undone has you buzzing beneath your skin while you brace yourself, curling your fingers under the edge of the countertop as Steve finishes pulling out his girthy cock. But before he even attempts to get it anywhere near your entrance he holds out his palm to you, knowing that he doesn't need to ask for you to spit into it, something that feels instinctual now at this stage in your relationship as he draws it back and slicks up his cock with your saliva.

With his length coated in a warm, glossy mixture of your spit and his precum, Steve doesn't keep you waiting for long, your legs parting to help with easing the tip of his cock in.

"Does it hurt?", he asks and while it might sound like he's only concerned about you, you can hear the heat still present in his veins.

"A little", You answer with a little heat of your own, no intention of asking him to stop.

"Good. I know you can take it", he tells you, all thorns and shit eating grins.

It doesn't happen as easily as when you two take the time to engage in foreplay first, your body usually opening up to accept him once he's gotten you ready with his tongue or fingers but this time Steve manages to notch his tip by your hole and breach you once it pops inside with a little effort, the rest of him slowly sinking inch by inch into your velvet heat.

Despite the wetness that smears your inner thighs, your whole body tenses and you have to breathe through it, pain marrying pleasure while you're being stretched open, hissing under your breath when he reaches his base. He spends a few seconds all the way inside you, just feeling you wrap around him and squeeze, your walls pulsing when he decides that's as soft as he'll allow himself to be with you today.

And he proves it when he begins pulling himself out, only to grit his teeth and drive himself back in again, making you squeal instantly, getting you thoroughly acquainted with the feeling and the force of every thrust as his pelvis bounces against your ass.

Steve so rarely ever fucks you like this and you're so caught up in taking his cock that you barely notice the way he reaches up to pull the front of your robe open too, realizing what he's done when he finds your nipples and begins to pinch and tug on them, smirking when it draws a high pitched whimper out of you as your steady breathing turns to shallow pants.

But you're not some delicate flower type. You're not one to be so compliant and let him ruin you so easily. So while Steve's busy fondling your chest you're quick to even the score when you grab hold of his right hand, lifting it up to your mouth so you can sink your teeth into the soft skin between his thumb and his wrist.

The pained hiss turned groan he lets out despite himself is a small victory but a sweet one nonetheless, enough to make you smile around his throbbing hand before deciding to remove your teeth from him, making sure to scoff at him all smug as he rubs at the little red teeth marks left behind on his tan skin.

Of course he takes it as well as a throatful of glass, considering the act a challenge for more.

Steve offers you one small moment of respite, slowly pulling almost all the way out, making sure his swollen tip remains inside you while you sigh, only to make you choke on a moan when he pushes all the way inside again in a single hard thrust, punching the air out of you.

You wanted to retaliate again, maybe reach behind to sink your nails into his thigh, scraping at his skin until narrow lines or blood rise to the surface or even rip at the clothes that hang on him in his state of half undress but you're unable to follow through this time with how he's managed to rattle you.

Steve's far too pleased to feel your elbows start to shake as your arms struggle to keep you up at this point, set on making your knees wobble too just so he can gloat about it later when you find it difficult to pick yourself up off the kitchen floor and walk away once he's done with you.

Slowly, Steve withdraws again, glee lighting up his eyes when he pushes back in with the same force of that first sharp thrust and this time you fail to stop a short scream from ripping out of your throat, back arching from how well and hard he's pressing against that spot deep inside you.

"Something you wanna say, sweetheart?", he sneers and taunts, pleased when you struggle to put together a coherent sentence while trying to endure his unforgiving pace. "Spit it out before I stop being so nice."

You muster what you can and manage to whimper it out, feeling so worn out though you haven't even reached your climax yet.

"Cum inside me. Please", you tell him — beg him, fingers turning cold and numb from how hard your grasping the countertop.

He's nothing short of cocky when he hears you whine all desperate and spent, a smug sense of accomplishment washing over him when he sees the thick coating of slick and cream you've left on his cock as he watches it withdraw and disappear inside you one harsh thrust after the other.

And then you tell him the rest.

"M—miss you when you're gone. Need to —ngh. Need to feel you in me when you're not here", you manage to string the words together before letting out a sound that's somewhere between a gasp and a whine, the kind he'll think about later on his own, working himself up until he's got no choice but to pry it out of you again.

But this isn't one of those moments, no matter how much he'd liked the sounds falling from your parted, panting lips.

Steve loses his rhythm before he stills completely inside you, your words sinking in like nails piercing his skin.

This was it. The crux of last night's argument.

You missed Steve. He'd been working too hard lately and you'd grown concerned. With the stress of his job and the little sleep he'd had he'd grown defensive and you'd gotten irritated, both of you clashing when you should have been listening and working together.

When he had woken up this morning Steve had cooled down enough to know he'd been unfair to you the night before. He was usually the type to talk things out but he'd gotten swept up in how things happened to pan out today, wrapping an arm around you tenderly, the hand you'd bitten placed over your thumping heart. He nuzzles his chin onto your shoulder to get closer to you, the stubble he'd been unable to shave this morning scratching against your skin gently as he whispers into your ear with so much sincerity.

"I'm sorry— I'm so sorry."

The sound of him all earnest and ragged makes you melt in his hold because you know how much he means it — you can practically feel how much he means it as it sinks into your skin and reaches into your ribcage.

Like Steve, you would have been open to talking it out had this been a regular fight. This particular fight however had you dumping more fuel on to the fire that roared between you because it required more than just words to resolve everything. It needed more than swapped apologies for the two of you to make amends and return back to normal.

You really needed to fuck it out. All teeth and nails and sore, spent bodies.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too", you answer, a smile growing on your parted, panting lips. "Now fuck me, will you?"

It catches Steve off guard enough to make him snort, thankful that the worst of your fight is behind you now as he starts to pick up the pace again, firm but also tender with the way his lips move against your neck and his fingers brush and roll at your nipples.

"Going to make it up to you, baby. Gonna be around more. Gonna be here for you, okay?", he pants against your skin, all gravelly groans and grunts with his nails digging into the skin on your waist.

You moan out his name, using what little strength you feel you have left to push yourself back to meet his thrusts. "Steve, oh fuck... I'm so close. I need you— I fucking need you, please."

He snaps his hips against your ass again, drawing out a blissful shudder out of you. "Gonna make it all right but until then—", you feel him draw away from you a little bit then, his hands leaving your body as you realize that he's going through his pockets.

With his cock still buried inside you and throbbing, he pulls out his phone and begins dialing, his thrusts commencing again, steady and deep enough to make your whole body draw tight, your release within reach.

"Try to keep it down while I call in sick, okay? Gonna have you all to myself today. Promise I'll keep you nice and full— gonna look so beautiful when you're dripping with me..."

[madamechrissy]

Just Friends!? chapter seven preview

This will be updated sometime this week <3 Chapter Six Here

Pairings- Former Nerd! Gojo and F! reader

Warnings - MDNI - flashback of a blowjob w/ Satoru and reader, love confessions, emotional asf

You can’t answer or respond, so upset, he feels the emotions choke him up, stuck in his throat. He sighs, stroking your back slowly under your jacket. Just this morning he’d been gasping out as you sucked him, in the quiet of the morning back in his room, he thought for a moment he must be dreaming. How in the world did he wake up to you and get that?

You’d been a little nervous, giggling and blushing as he had been, stroking your hair gently back to hold it for you, messy from your sleep. You’d almost had him about to bust from a few sucks and laps of your tongue, your hand stroking him up and down slowly, but he’d had to be inside you again.

‘C’mere baby,’ he’d whispered, tugging you on his lap and gliding your slick cunt across his cock, slicker and slicker as you kissed him, and he tasted his precum off your lips. “Wanna cum inside you again, fuck…’

You’d whined out, brows drawn together as your hips moved, lifting them up for his tip to press in, slowly stretching your already sore little pussy out, the amount of rounds you two have gone in a couple days is more than you’ve had in years. He’d been so easy with you, moaning softly, blue eyes studying you as he felt your cunt grip him so good.

‘God you’re so beautiful,’ his words made you emotional, tears falling even as he sunk deeper inside your eager cunt, gasping. ‘You are.’

‘I love you,’ you tensed as the words spilled, but Satoru just kissed you deeply, moaning into your lips and pulling you down his length. ‘Satoru!’

“I love you too,” he whispers in your ear now, you look up at him, eyes wide and glittering with tears, he strokes your cheek and looks down at you, lashes casting shadows on his high cheekbones in the dawn. “I didn’t say it this morning, I was so in shock you said that…”

“You love me too?” He nods, smiling sadly, feeling his own tears begin to burn the back of his eyes.

“I’ve loved you since I met you,” you shake your head but he nods, leaning low and stroking your cool cheeks, flushed from the weather. “I have.”

“Satoru,” you kiss him now, as the whirl of the plane radiates, and he desperately falls into it, clinging you so tightly. “I never stopped loving you.”

“Neither did I,” he breaks apart with a sigh, kissing you over and over. “Just come with me.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, your dad is okay, you can teach-”

“Satoru, I can’t just… leave everything on a whim. I need to plan things and also… what if you find I don’t fit in your life?” He frowns at your words now.

“What?”

“You had a whole famous career, what if I don’t fit your image - mnh!” Satoru cuts you off with another kiss, and you feel your pulse race, blood rushing in your ears as he tugs you closer, you feel the heat of his body radiating over your layers.

“Bullshit.”

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[v3nomly]

— HOW THEY REACT TO SOMEONE HITTING ON YOU

• characters — Childe ; Zhongli ; Wanderer | Aventurine ; Welt ; Blade

• synopsis — An unsuspecting guy hits on you. it doesn’t take long for your partner to swoop in and shut it down.

• tags & warnings — Established relationship, jealousy, kissing.

• a/n — Hihi!! My requests are open so feel free to pop in. I write for a couple fandoms and I'm always looking for moots. Enjoy!!

Writing Catalog

— THOSE WHO FLAUNT ; CHILDE or AVENTURINE

Before you can even shut the guy down yourself, an arm snakes around your waist, pulling you away from the man trying to shoot his shot and into the arms of your lover. It wasn’t unusual for them to be overly affectionate in public, but something about their hold tells you this is more than a loving embrace, but an assertion of dominance. 

“Sorry, I took so long, Angel. Didn’t miss me too much, did you?” They ask, leaving no room for you to answer as their lips press against your own. The action spoke louder than any words could. You were his. 

The man across from you cleared his throat uncomfortably, causing your partner to pull away reluctantly. Their body relaxed against yours, exuding an air of nonchalance, “Did you need something?”

— THOSE WHO SEETHE ; WANDERER or BLADE

How could you be so oblivious? The man's desperate attempts at seduction were evident, yet you remained blissfully unaware. Conflicted feelings coursed through your lover’s veins. On one hand, there was something almost comical about the scene. If it were anyone else, your partner may have been able to laugh at the man’s pathetic nature. Yet, it was you, which only left them with the bitter taste of ire. How dare this man think he’s deserving of your attention?

Anger radiated from behind you, something you remained ignorant of. Your boyfriend leveled a glare at the man who seemed to be just as oblivious as yourself. Until their eyes met. The man stilled, words dying in his throat, face paling as he swallowed quickly, before excusing himself. You turn towards your partner with a look of confusion and they only shrug, their eyes filled with nothing but the gentle love reserved only for you. 

— THOSE WHO REDIRECT ; ZHONGLI or WELT

They weren’t the jealous type. Years of experience and wisdom had taught them certain things were better let go. Yet they couldn’t help the uncomfortable feeling that snaked up their spine, engulfing them in its vexatious nature. Networking was an important part of your job, something he had witnessed you do countless times before, but this man irked him to his core. 

Your lover’s hand comes to rest against the small of your back, grabbing your attention, and pulling your eyes away from the man you were conversing with. Covertly they take control of the conversation, steering it away from the man’s obnoxious attempts at wooing you, and into one that keeps your eyes on him. He can’t help the satisfaction that rises in his chest as the man deflates at the casual display of intimacy. Or the way pride flutters in his body when you smile at him. Your partner wasn’t the jealous type, but he could be. 

© 2024 v3nomly do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.

[nyxianwayfarer]

Hidden Distractions

Pairing: Demon!Shalom x Fem!Reader

Rating: E

Content Tags: Office Sex, Desk Sex, Semi-public Sex, Magical Collar, Spanking, Creampie, Dom!Shalom, Sub!Reader, Shapeshifting, Tail Being Used as a Restraint, Shalom Shifts On Something Hot and Hard for Reader? I don't know how to fucking tag things...

Summary: You're having a bad day. Shalom helps take your mind off things.

Note: This is something inspired by @sinful-lanterns's Demon AU. I vaguely said I was gonna write some office smut featuring Shalom and Reader in this last post I made, so I figured I'd make due with that promise. 😏

Additional Note: Edited as of 3/16/25. This fic is now available on AO3!

You bite your lip as you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling as if a vise has clamped itself around your skull.

Your headache has been building all morning with the constant parade of people rotating in and out of your office. With the rest of your family dead, their respective contacts have been looking to curry favor with you. You have full control of your House's finances now after all; they likely don't want to lose access to the fountain of wealth that had previously been supplied to them by your relatives.

But that's the problem, isn't it?

If your family had employed them, how trustworthy were they?

Not very, you decide bitterly as you wander over to the fireplace, hoping the hearth's warmth would help ease some of the tension radiating from the back of your neck. You undo the buttons on the high-necked collar of your dress. Then, you turn your body to look over your shoulder at the mirror hanging above the mantle. With the fabric now hanging loosely around your shoulders, you can see the various bite marks adorning your skin, evidence of your demons' devotion to you. Still, you can't help but notice that one was more faded than the others from where it sat high on the back of your neck.

Shalom still hasn't returned from overseeing her various business ventures—the same ones that had earned her a lucrative amount of wealth over several centuries.

While Langley can conduct her own matters well enough from the privacy of your estate, there are rare occasions where Shalom's "human" persona required her to be present among her mortal underlings in order to protect her assets. While you understand the reasons why she's gone, that still doesn't stop you from missing her...

You see a faint outline of magical energy encircling your neck then—not unlike a collar in its appearance. It conjures itself when you think too strongly about any of your demons. When you had consummated the pact with them, this had been their gift to you in return. That you wear it is a promise of both their power and protection, but it serves another purpose: they can be summoned to your side with a mere call of their name.

As if following your line of thought, you can now see a familiar symbol forming on the back of your magical brand—a triangle that burns bright magenta against the reflection of the mirror. It is unique to only one demon in all of hell's realms, but can you really be so selfish as to bother her?

Then again, had your demons not always told you they were bound to serve you and your needs? With your self-control quickly slipping, your lips part to utter one name in your otherwise silent office.

"Shalom."

"Yes?"

Your head swivels forward at the voice that is not your own, and you find Shalom reclined in regal repose behind your desk in all her demonic splendor. There's a subtle smile pulling at her lips, indicating she is pleased by your summons.

"I almost believed I'd done something to earn your ire," she teases lightly. "Surely, it must have been a grave offense indeed for you not to call me to your side until now, but I can see our dear mistress missed me after all."

"Of course I did." You duck your head, blushing at the admission, which only causes her smile to widen.

"Then come regale me with all you've done in my absence," she says, offering a hand with which to beckon you towards her.

In little time at all, you find yourself seated in Shalom's lap, informing her of the going-ons across the estate, the amusing squabbles between the angels and Shalom's fellow demonkin, the latest gossip around town regarding you, and—inevitably—the amount of people whom have sought an audience with you the past few weeks. Save for the royal family, you are now the head of the most prominent noble household in all of Dis. So many seek to ride the coattails of your sudden rise to power, but you know these same people had done nothing to aid you when you'd merely been a pariah of your bloodline.

You exhale in frustration after you finish your tirade, and you don't put up so much as a fuss as she draws you in to rest your head against her shoulder. While talking about your more recent woes has done wonders in easing your stress, being close to Shalom like this also just never fails to relax you. She smells so nice too.

Like with your other demons, Shalom carries the heat of hell with her along with the scent of brimstone. Each one of them still has an aroma that is uniquely theirs though. Shalom has a subtle floral undertone to hers.

She had once taken you to a field filled with rare blue crystal flowers—one of her favored relaxation spots apparently. She had humored you graciously when you'd constructed a flower crown for her. For your efforts, she had rewarded you by bedding you in that very same field. You could remember the way the petals had brushed against your skin—their scent and Shalom's own lingering within your nose—as she languidly pumped her cock into you, drawing climax after climax out of you beneath the moonlight.

The memory of that night never fails to excite you, and you try to hide your arousal by brushing you thighs together, but a demon's senses are ever keen. You flush with sudden embarrassment and desire when you feel something hard begin to rise against your bottom.

You rush to apologize. "Shalom, I'm—"

"You seem to be in need of a distraction after the eventful day you've had," she remarks, which has you looking up to see amusement filling that otherworldly gaze. She tilts her head curiously. "Am I wrong to assume so?"

You bite your lip, shaking your head bashfully, and that's enough to draw a fanged smile from her.

"Up, darling pet," comes the quiet but firm command.

You hurry to obey, and your feet almost tangle in the length of your dress in your rush, but Shalom rights you with ease. Her hands settle on your hips before guiding you to face your desk. You can still feel the heat of her body as she stands behind you. Her thumbs slowly caress the dip of your waist, and you sigh contentedly for a moment before you're startled out of your thoughts when you hear and feel the fabric there being clawed apart and ripped open.

"S-shalom!"

"You know as well as I do that Garofano can easily mend your clothing," she remarks placidly, laving her tongue against the mark on the back of your neck—her mark. As close as you are to her, you can feel the faint purr she emits, vibrating through your very bones. "I've been away from you far too long, and I desire a gift for my patience."

She nudges your legs apart with her own, and with the lower half of your dress ripped open, you're left bare and vulnerable. An arm wraps itself around your waist as her other hand sneaks further down. Clawed fingers deftly pull back the hood of your clit, and your breath hitches when you feel it twitching against the air of the office. You squirm against the demon's touch, wanting to thrust your hips forward in search of relief, but her hold on you is secure. You suppress a small sob when Shalom continues teasing you, using the pad of a finger to tortuously rub a slow, delicate circle around your nub.

Her touch is far too light to bring any amount of satisfaction to you, and she knows it.

Tears of frustration gather in your eyes as you let your head fall back against her shoulder, panting hard. After some time, she then spreads apart your folds, and you don't need to look down to know that you're absolutely dripping with want.

"Will you grant me this?" she asks, turning her head to whisper sinfully into your ear. As if you would ever deny her. "Will you grant me what we both desire?"

Your tongue feels like it's too big for your mouth, so all you can do is nod frantically. With her hands on your thighs, she helps you up onto your desk so that you're kneeling upon it. You're confused by this positioning, but you have no time to question it when you feel the clawed hand between your shoulder blades. It coaxes you forward until your upper body is completely pressed against the wood grain while your hips remain in the air, knees splayed apart. You hear Shalom's satisfied hum behind you as she runs her hands slowly across your bottom. She keeps you like that even as you breathe heavily with lust.

Seconds pass and soon minutes, but the demon seems determined to torture you even more when she makes no further move to touch you. Against your better judgment, you whine and shake your hips, trying to entice her, but you feel the consequences of your actions immediately. She holds you in place with barely any effort as her claws threaten to dig into your flesh with her disapproval.

"Pet, that is no way for you to behave," she berates, and you almost cry at that scolding tone. "You were doing so well. Don't you wish to be good for me?"

"Yes! Yes, please! I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!" you beg even as your words tumble over one another. "I'll be good! Just please—"

You nearly fall off your desk—jolting in place—upon feeling the tip of a hot tongue lapping over your clit. The warmth of your office almost feels too cold in comparison, and the swollen nub throbs incessantly, as if begging for Shalom to bathe it in heat again. You're thoroughly embarrassed when that earns you a titter of laughter.

"You really are quite lovely, pet." She pats your flank like one would a prized mare. "Perhaps the others would argue I'm being far too lenient with you, but I have all the time in the world to train you, don't I? For now..." You gasp when you feel her thumbs spread apart your folds again, revealing you intimately beneath her gaze. "I shouldn't let this all go to waste."

By this, you're certain she means the slick that practically drips out of you. After all that teasing and torture earlier, you can't help it any more than you can help the moan that escapes you when she blows gently across your cunt. To make matters worse, the spade-shaped tip of her tail intermittently slaps itself across your exposed clit, timed perfectly with the spanks across your bottom. You have to raise yourself onto your elbows to gain any measure of stability.

You were already so wet before, but now your arousal coats your inner thighs and spills in strands from your pussy. As you let your head fall between your elbows, your face burns upon seeing the small puddle of your desire already forming on the surface of your desk. Shalom doesn't seem the least bit bothered by it. Instead, she swipes her fingers through the mess and uses it to coat her impressive shaft, mixing with the precum already leaking from its tip.

At last, she guides you off the desk so that your feet are resting on the floor again, but you're still left bent over the wooden surface and under Shalom's mercy. The head of her cock brushes against your folds a few times, seemingly testing how your body yields for her. After a time, she presses her hips forwards, and there's a moment where the muscles of your entrance tighten reflexively against the building pressure. Ever the patient predator, Shalom waits, perfectly poised above you, and she's rewarded when you relax around her, allowing the thick tip to finally slip inside.

The heat of demon dick isn't necessarily a new sensation for you, but considering how long Shalom's been away, you'd almost forgotten how big she is. You feel the way your inner walls seem to mold themselves around her. Even with her absence, however, Shalom seems in no rush to thoroughly claim you as she rotates her hips incrementally, taking her time to work herself into you bit by bit. Your arousal and her growing precum make quick work in getting Shalom to hilt herself fully inside you, but it's the way the length of her cock catches against your clit on a backstroke that has you moaning loudly.

Of course, that's also the moment where you hear footsteps walking past your office doors. Mortified, you clap your hands over your mouth to stifle any further outbursts.

Shalom will not have it though.

"No, no, pet." She leans over you to grasp your hands with her own, pulling both of them towards the small of your back. Her tail then coils itself around your wrists, holding them in place there. "I want to hear you," she says, rocking her hips forward with such exquisite force that you can't help the keening wail of pleasure that follows. You can see her smirk as she looms over you just as clearly as that glowing, triangular mark over her right eye. While there isn't much of a height difference between you two, she seems even bigger with the way her wings have flared out behind her. "And I'm sure the other residents of the estate do as well. You do sound so pretty after all..."

Shalom shifts her grip on you then, resting a hand on one of your shoulders while the other presses against the side of your hip. She uses both for leverage behind her unrelenting thrusts. You hear the way your flesh slaps together against hers, forcing out a string of vulgar moans from you that seem more fit for a brothel than a noble lady like yourself. That seems to be what Shalom wants though. A sigh of bliss escapes her as she peppers kisses across your shoulders.

"I've missed this," she admits, pistoning into you tirelessly as she moves up your body to lick at the back of your neck—right over where she left her bite scar. "Now then, pet, thoroughly welcome me home..."

That's all the warning she gives before she places her fangs directly over the indentation marks, and your body suddenly seizes from the climax that washes over you. There's a groan behind you when your spasming walls triggers Shalom's own release, sending waves of hot seed deep inside you. Even as your eyes roll into the back of your head though, you can't help but notice the lack of stinging that accompanies any of your demons freshening up one of their marks.

If anything, you hear a grotesque snap behind you instead.

As you come down from the throes of your orgasm, you turn your head so that your cheek can rest against the cool surface of your desk. You find that Shalom has tilted her head, twisting it at an unnatural angle as her gaze seems to fix itself beyond the walls of your office.

Listening.

Tracking.

Hunting.

Then, she emits a subvocal growl that never fails to make you shiver with pleasure. There's danger in the sound, yes, but it's not directed at you. Rather, it is for you. As is often the case with demons, they are remarkably territorial with anything they claim as theirs...

Your world shifts abruptly as you're pulled upright from your desk. There's another whir of movement, and it takes a moment for you to realize that Shalom has released your wrists and now has you sitting atop her lap.

...where you're still impaled on her dick.

You barely stop yourself from jumping as the double doors to your office burst open, revealing a portly noble—one who had been persistently trying to petition a marriage between you and his eldest son—as well as Rahu.

"I will not continue to be ignored in this manner!" the noble bellows, already annoyed with how Rahu has been hounding his footsteps. "I've waited long enough for an audience with Lady—"

He stops immediately when his beady eyes turn towards you, and with alarm, you quickly look down to assess your current state.

It seems that when Shalom had repositioned you, she'd also buttoned up the front of your dress again, leaving your modesty in tact. The bottom half of your dress remains shredded to pieces, of course, but the height of your desk easily conceals anything below your chest.

So long as your unexpected guest doesn't wander any closer of course.

He seems confused, perhaps pondering the intimate distance between you and Shalom. Rahu, on the other hand, only offers a neutral expression as she stares at the rude noble, but as her gaze wanders over to you, you can't miss how the demon's nostrils subtly flare while her eyes briefly shift to their demonic, slitted appearance. With her heightened senses, you have no doubt Rahu knows what's going on. Your blush may permanently stain your face at this point.

"Is everything alright?" the noble asks, still somewhat bewildered.

"Yes!" you squeak out, but Shalom offers a calmer response.

"But of course, your lordship."

You glance behind you to see that Shalom has shifted back to her human appearance. Gone are her horns, wings, and her signature marked eye although her shaft still remains inside you. Her expression is professional and polite, never hinting at how she's still spilling thick ropes of cum deep inside you. Your guest isn't quite convinced at her answer though, frowning.

"Are you certain? Her Ladyship seems rather... flushed."

You part your lips to speak again only to close them abruptly at the touch to your clit.

You look down to see that Shalom hadn't bothered to shift away her tail. She’s using the spade tip to draw lazy circles around your engorged nub, which she keeps exposed with two of her fingers. It allows her tail more surface area with which to toy with you. With every caress, you can’t help but clench around her shaft in response, milking more of her cum into you. Once again, you're thankful the height of your desk is obscuring everything even as you're struggling not to moan. You have to press a hand over your face to help hide it even as Shalom continues speaking behind you.

"Ah. I fear she may be coming down with a cold," she explains, gently patting one of your burning cheeks—the color of them having nothing to do with any illness whatsoever! "She's been so attentive in her role as the new head of the household. I daresay she's hardly had time to rest since then. Why, I'm told she's already been fielding quite a number of visitors since this morning even with her current state."

"Oh! I see." Something akin to guilt settles across the noble's bloated features then. He clears his throat. "I... suppose we can postpone a meeting until you're well, Your Ladyship?"

With effort, especially with Shalom's continued ministrations between your legs, you reply. "I'll personally see that one of my attendants delivers a letter to your household once I'm ready to receive an audience again."

With that, Rahu escorts the man out of your office, closing the doors behind them. You can once again relax although that reprieve is brief at best when Shalom casually presses a hand against your stomach. Your belly feels a bit taut beneath your dress with how much cum Shalom has filled you with. A demon's endurance is a powerful thing indeed. Looking down, you can see how some of her seed has spilled out even with the girth of her cock providing a pleasant plug.

"Was this to your satisfaction, dear mistress mine?"

"Yes." You release a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Shalom."

"I aim to please." She presses a kiss against the side of your head. "Now then, shall we call Rahu back in before your more angelic guests also think to stop by unannounced? I can lay you across your desk again, far enough to where your head can overhang the edge of it." She grinds her hips into you, causing you to gasp. "I can take you from behind again while she helps herself to your mouth." Shalom places her hand directly over your womb. "After all, there's only so much teasing she can take before she hunts you down in your own halls and breeds you to her own satisfaction... but perhaps you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You don't need to turn your head to see Shalom's devilish smirk when you tighten unconsciously around her cock at the thought.

[daycourtofficial]

Amber eyes, looking into mine

Summary: Eris finds something in his study that triggers him into a frozen state of panic. Who better suited to pulling Eris from his past than his future?

Author’s note: I wrote this in under an hour so please be nice and if there are any typos, no there aren’t 💕 Also technically this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read alone and she doesn’t make an appearance, it’s all Eris and the baby okay byeee

TW: panic attack, mentions of being whipped and being burnt

Word count: ~1k

A trade agreement sat on his desk, one that predates his tenure as high lord. Eris had found the document stuffed away in a drawer, abandoning what he was searching for as soon as he recognized it.

His father’s large, obnoxious signature at the bottom, the ridiculously high tariffs on imported goods. He could hear the whip in his ears, feeling his body tense with memory.

It was all too much. He had spoken with his father about the deal, wanting to give incentives for traders to come into Autumn rather than deterrents. Beron had laughed at him, telling him that everything anyone needs can be found in Autumn.

The night hadn’t ended there.

Beron had whipped him for having such a ridiculous idea in front of the other courtiers.

“No son of mine will appear so idiotic before others,” he had said, his voice ringing in Eris’s ears. 

Eris was seated in his chair in his study, but his mind was elsewhere. Down deep, deep in the dungeons of the Forest House, a trek he made many nights, his blood dripping through the house as he limped back to his own chambers.

Chubby hands grip the fabric of his trousers, a body too small traveling up his legs, climbing for what they love most in this world. Little feet find their footing on his thighs, hands leaning against his torso to support their weight.

Amber eyes look at him, searching for praise at the impossible task they just completed. 

His eyes.

What his eyes used to look like, before Beron burnt the joy out of them.

Eris is frozen in place, caught in a spiral of hatred and loathing by his son. His beautiful, wonderfully funny son, who looks at him with the love and adoration his mother looks at him with.

If his son knew all that he had done to prevent Beton’s ire, would his eyes still look for Eris in every room? Would his eyes still fill with tears, his lungs exhaling every breath at bedtime, unable to sleep without seeing his father one last time?

The spitting image of him, his mother finding an old portrait of himself at this age, his son a direct image of the portrait. Was this how he looked when Beron began his tirade of cruelty against his family? Did soft coos of a babe turn into wails at any contact with Beron?

All he had ever known was the flame, the flame within himself that refused to be extinguished, and the flames his father tormented him with for centuries.

He feels those flames on his skin, his own flame desperate to fight it. He feels the heat licking up his forearms, he feels it cascading down his back in waves, searching for every inch of unclaimed skin. He clenches his fists, desperate to bring himself back to reality. Instead, his breathing becomes more ragged, his jaw clenching.

He can smell the flesh burning off of him, feel his stomach churning, his throat filling with bile at the smell, so strong he could taste it.

Tiny fingers grip into his hair, yanking lightly, trying to find balance. The feeling jolts him back, back from the past, back from a place that doesn’t exist anymore. 

The babe stands in his lap, toes gripping his trousers as he tries to learn how to use them. A warmth so unnatural from something so young radiates off of his son. A tear splashes onto the little foot, which the babe immediately burns off. 

Giggles fill the room at his show of his powers and Eris is finally able to move again as he wraps his arms around the young princeling, so unaware of how the world can burn.

He holds him in a tight embrace, squishing his face into the tiny neck, breathing him in. He gives himself five seconds, clutching the clothes covering the babe’s chest.

Five.

He breathes in deeply, his chest heaving with sobs that escape his mouth.

Four.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. It had never been fair. Nothing was fair.

Three.

It took hours to kill Beron, centuries of scheming, and his presence was still felt throughout the court, throughout him-

He feels something cold and wet on his neck, tiny hands still gripping his hair, but his son is slobbering across his neck, his cheek, the movement tickling Eris’s neck. He laughs as he realizes that his son is mimicking how they make him laugh by blowing raspberries into his neck, his cheeks, his stomach.

He delicately pulls the face from his neck, leaning his forehead against his firstborn’s forehead. His eyes are wide with wonder. Everything is new to him and the worst thing he’s experienced is dropping his favorite toy in a mud puddle.

He looks at his father, not sure what to make of him, until Eris slowly smiles at him, his eyes lightening with fondness, catching a bit of the spark from his son’s eyes.

And the baby in his arms smiles back, grabbing Eris’s nose in excitement as he babbles noncoherent sounds. Eris stretches his legs out, sinking into his chair a bit, letting his back relax into the chair. Eris responds to the babbling, occasional hums and responses to whatever he was trying to convey to his father. 

Someday, the words would come. They would flow freely, spilling from his mouth in anger, in sadness, in disbelief. They would come more easily, small things setting off his memories and not allowing him to think of anything until they left him. He would share the burden of his memories.

Someday, the words would come. But not today. Today the incoherent babbling was enough.

[pinkslipxox]

A Proposal To Remember:

Summary: Miko asks you to marry her after lovemaking 🥰❤️

Warnings: slight mentions of smut, mostly fluff 💋

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You lay against the cool sheets of your bedroom, the soft glow of the Puerto Rican moon filtering through the window, casting delicate shadows on the walls. The sultry air is thick with heat and romance, the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore mingling with your breathless gasps.

Miko, your fierce and captivating girlfriend, lies beside you, her dark hair sticking to her forehead as you both catch your breath. Her unapologetic energy. You can feel her warmth radiating against your skin, a comforting contrast to the heat that envelops the night.

“Mmm, pequeña,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing as she curls her tattooed arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The way she says your name makes your heart race, a rush of affection flooding your senses. You turn your head slightly, meeting the intensity of her gaze, those dark eyes filled with mischief and love.

Without breaking your gaze, Miko leans in, her lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a warm tingling sensation in their wake. A soft moan escapes your lips, the sound barely more than a whisper in the night. In this moment, you feel cherished, vulnerable yet perfectly safe in her arms.

“¿Te quieres casar conmigo, Y/N?” she asks, her voice husky, laced with a desire that sends shivers down your spine. The Spanish slips off her tongue effortlessly, as natural as the rhythm in her music. You can hardly believe what you just heard, your heart pounding in excitement.

“Wait, what?” you say softly, wanting to make sure that you heard her correctly, and Miko chuckles.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?” Miko asks again, this time her voice softer, in a more serious tone. She looks deeply in your eyes, and it’s at that moment that she isn’t joking. Miko then continues, “I want moments like this with you por el resto de mi vida. Quiero despertar cada mañana contigo en mis brazos, besarte cada vez antes que ir al estudio, y volver a casa contigo cada noche.”

“Yes, Miko!” you breathe out, the words tumbling from your lips without hesitation. You feel her smile against your skin, warm and intoxicating.

She attaches her lips to yours with a fierce passion, a raw blend of tenderness and urgency. Your bodies are slick with sweat, every breath mingling as you surrender to this beautiful moment. Miko cradles you in her muscular arms, holding you like you are the most precious thing in the world.

“Eres todo para mí,” she whispers between kisses, her hands exploring your skin with a soft reverence that makes your heart swell. Her touch is both gentle and possessive, as if she’s claiming every piece of you for herself.

Wrapped in her embrace, you feel powerful yet fragile, a perfect balance to her wild spirit. You reach up to caress her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingers, and you can’t help but smile.

“You’re everything to me, Miko. Mi amor,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other's eyes, the world outside fading away until it’s just you and Miko in this intimate sanctuary. She kisses you again, slow and sweet, the promise of love lingering in the air. You are breathless and fulfilled, existing in a moment that feels timeless.

Beneath the Puerto Rican stars, you know you’ve found your forever, and it’s nestled perfectly in the arms of your now fiancée