#man this was fun and man did it make me feel better about some things lol

[itneverendshere]

you and your sister going out to the store, and milo’s so wiggly in the cart and you over hear your sister tell him “go hang with uncle rafe” and he zooms to rafe and it’s so cute to see

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 it's so cute watching them all grow up/old together it kills me

i'd give up everything - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

It’s almost golden hour, and the parking lot of the grocery store is lit in that perfect, warm light that makes everything look prettier than it is. You’re pushing the cart while Monica’s next to you, holding onto Milo’s hand as he bounces with energy he clearly stole from the depths of kid’s chaos. It’s like he never stops.

You can’t remember the last time this kid sat still.

“Why did we even bring him?” You laugh, watching as Milo keeps trying to wriggle out of her grasp. "It's like he's allergic to being still."

Monica sighs, throwing you a half-hearted grin. “I know, right? Kid’s got more energy than I did in college.”

Milo makes a break for it, slipping out of her hold and darting towards the cart. He’s got this wild grin on his face like it’s the most fun game in the world. And to be fair, it kinda is. His growing legs are sprinting towards the cart before Monica can even react.

“Come on, Milo!” she calls after him, rolling her eyes but not too mad about it. She’s used to this routine by now.

You scoop him up, plopping him back into the shopping cart with a laugh, wheezing in the process because wow he’s grown now. “I got him,” You say, but he’s already jumping, trying to climb out like some mini escape artist. His hands grip the edge, feet kicking out as he tries to launch himself toward freedom.

“You know who’s better at wrangling this kid?” Monica says with a smirk, like she’s got the perfect plan up her sleeve.

“Don’t say it,” You warn, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Go hang with Uncle Rafe,” she sing-songs, like it’s the solution to every kid problem in the world.

And, of course, the second the words leave her mouth, Milo’s entire face lights up. He lets out this high-pitched squeal, the kind that only a soon to be six-year-old can make without bursting their vocal cords, and he’s off. He shimmies out of the cart like a squirrel, landing on the pavement with all the grace of a tiny athlete.

“Milo, wait!” You laugh, but honestly, you don’t even try to stop him. The kid’s determined, and you all know where he’s headed.

Rafe’s leaning against the hood of his truck, looking way too cool for a grocery store run. He’s on his phone, completely oblivious to the tornado zooming his way.

Milo barrels into his legs with full toddler force, grabbing onto his jeans like his life depends on it. “Unca Rafe!” he shouts, voice so full of excitement it makes your heart flip. 

Rafe looks down, caught off guard, but then his face softens into this smile that’s...it’s so unfair how cute he is. How does he manage to go from looking like the most intimidating guy in the world to this softie in two seconds flat? It’s criminal, really.

“Well, hey, little man,” He says, tucking his phone into his pocket and crouching down to Milo’s level. “What’s up? You causin' trouble already?”

Milo giggles, throwing his arms around Rafe’s neck in the clumsiest, cutest hug. Rafe lifts him up with ease, like he weights nothing, holding him against his chest like he’s done it a thousand times before — which, honestly, he kinda has. 

You lean against the cart, watching the whole scene unfold, and you can’t help but smile. It’s such a simple thing, but the way Rafe is with Milo always gets you. Like, he’s got this side to him that not a lot of people see, this soft, caring, protective side that only comes out when he’s with the people he loves. And watching him with your nephew? Yeah, it makes you feel things. Big, mushy, embarrassing things.

“He’s obsessed with you, you know,” You say as you walk up to them, folding your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow.

Your boyfriend gives you this cocky grin, holding Milo with one arm like it’s nothing. “Can you blame him?” he teases, winking. “He’s just like his auntie.”

Even though you roll your eyes at his teasing, there’s no denying that he’s right. Milo is kind of like you—especially in the way he seems totally infatuated with Rafe.

You can’t blame him.

“I don’t know who you think you’re flattering right now,” you reply, smirking as you grab a few of the grocery bags from the cart. “But fine, I’ll give you that. Kid’s got good taste.”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low and warm, while Milo tugs at the collar of his t-shirt, trying to get his attention again. “Unca Rafe, can I go in the truck?” Milo asks, bouncing with the same boundless energy that’s been following him all day. You really miss the days he called him Rafey.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at you for approval like the responsible uncle he pretends to be sometimes. “What do you think? You wanna let him play around inside?”

You shrug, already giving in because, let’s be real, there’s no stopping Milo when he’s this excited. “As long as he doesn’t drive off, I’m good.”

“No promises, baby."

Before you can say anything, Rafe’s already tossing Milo into the air, earning a high-pitched squeal that echoes through the parking lot. You can’t help but watch, feeling that familiar tug of affection as he catches him effortlessly, setting him down in the open passenger door of his truck.

Milo immediately starts pressing all the buttons, making the truck beep and flash like he’s setting off a mini-light show, but Rafe doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He’s leaning back against the side of the truck, crossing his arms as he watches Milo with the prettiest smile on his face. 

Monica finishes loading the last of the bags into her car, and she glances over at the scene unfolding in front of you with a smirk. “He’s a natural, huh?” she says quietly, nudging you with her elbow. 

You try to play it cool, even though your heart’s swelling in your chest. “Yeah, he’s alright,” you joke, but the truth is written all over your face. You’re totally, hopelessly in love with the guy standing there, pretending not to care that Milo’s probably activating every feature his truck has to offer.

Your sister gives you a knowing look, like she can see straight through your attempt to be nonchalant. “Milo’s lucky. He’s got you both wrapped around his little finger.”

You laugh because, yeah, that’s probably true. Milo’s got this charm that no one in your family can resist, and Rafe’s just as guilty of it as you are.

As if on cue, Milo pops his head out of the truck window, eyes wide with excitement. “Unca Rafe, can I honk the horn?”

Rafe shoots you a glance, “Should I let him?”

You sigh dramatically, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Go ahead. Just don’t blame me if he thinks he can do this every time.”

Rafe laughs, reaching over to ruffle Milo’s hair. “Alright, little man. One honk. Make it count.”

Milo slams his tiny hand down on the horn, the loud sound blaring across the parking lot, and you wince even though you knew it was coming. Rafe’s laughing, Milo’s giggling like he’s just pulled off the prank of the century, and you—well, you’re just standing there, taking it all in, wondering how you got so lucky.

It’s moments like this that make you realize how different things are now. Two and a half years ago, if someone had told you that Rafe Cameron—golden boy, Kook prince, with a reputation for being that guy—would be standing here, playing the perfect role of doting uncle to your nephew, you probably would’ve laughed in their face.

But here he is. 

And here you are, watching the two most important boys in your life bond over something as simple as honking a horn. Rafe catches your eye again, his grin softening as Milo scrambles back into the truck, happily babbling to himself about how loud it was.

“Think he’s ready to drive it for real?” Rafe jokes, stepping closer to you.

“Absolutely not,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But thanks for getting him all wound up right before we’re supposed to head home.”

Rafe shrugs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “What can I say? He’s fun to mess with.”

You roll your eyes but lean into him, enjoying the warmth of his touch. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who’s gonna have to deal with him next time he demands a honk.”

Rafe chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both watch Milo crawl back over to the driver’s seat, completely mesmerized by the truck’s dashboard, “You know I love it.”

You glance up at him, and for a second, you feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude—like you’ve somehow stumbled into the best version of your life without even realizing it. This is the guy who has seen you at your worst, dealt with your stubborn streak, and still chooses to stick around. And not just stick around—he’s fully here, present, loving your nephew like he’s been part of your family all along.

You can’t believe he only left rehab a month ago. 

“Okay, but seriously,” Monica says, glancing between you and Rafe, “How am I ever going to survive without seeing you being in love every day? It’s sickening.”

You can’t help but snort, nudging Rafe with your shoulder. “Sickening, huh?”

“Pleases,” she rolls her eyes but is smiling. “I can’t believe you’re moving together.”

“Moving in?” Milo suddenly chimes in, his head popping out of the truck window like a jack-in-the-box. “Are you gonna live with Uncle Rafe forever?”

You share a look with Rafe, and he raises his brows in mock surprise. “What? You don’t wanna share her?”

Milo’s eyes widen, contemplating this monumental decision as if it were the biggest thing he’s ever had to think about. “Will I get to come visit?”

“Every day if you want,” Rafe assures him, still grinning as he crouches to Milo’s level again. “You can help us cook and make all the noise you want. We’ll even have a trampoline in the backyard. Sound good?”

Milo claps his hands, clearly sold on the idea. “Yes! And can we have pizza every Friday?”

You chuckle, glancing at Rafe. “I think we can manage that.”

[imthepunchlord]

I think that the main problem with Marinette is that she always gets blamed for minor things, but her bigger mistakes are ignored.

She also gets blamed for things that aren't her fault. Like Reverser I blame Nathaniel and his extreme expectations, and Refleckdoll, it was Alya who was making things worse for Juleka while Marinette was trying to help. Gamer's another as she did play fair and square, and won fair and square.

But yeah, ML has an issue with priorities. With the mindset that ONLY Marinette can be at fault, which has her at fault for things that actually aren't her fault or are minor things when there are bigger faults with others; and that, for Marinette's actual faults and issues, they don't focus on the actual problems.

For one thing, Marinette is a perfectionist, in her work and responsibilities, and in how she helps people. This leads to her being meddling and controlling. With good intentions but she can take it far. She even has this idea that only she can be the solution, though more in an Atlas complex way than being egotistical.

Which I'll give the show this, by how it's set up, Adrien and Marinette kinda feed this bad aspect of their dynamic into each other. Adrien goofs around as a hero or doesn't take situations seriously with his flirting at bad times, so Marinette feels like she has to step up more as leader and responsible one, and Adrien doesn't get a chance to take things more seriously or be the leader as Marinette doesn't expect him to, which leads to his frustration of not being as valued as a partner like he wants and he acts out, and Marinette sees she can't rely on him as much and it just cycles.

I know the show sorta tries to address this with the insistence that Marinette can trust Alya and doesn't need to shoulder everything, which is great, if they didn't take it back right away validating Marinette in being right in not trusting Alya.

Which man, that's one of Marinette's actual big issues, and you address it, and then take two steps back and reverse and vindicate the flawful mindset.

Another big issue is her over involving herself in this she doesn't or shouldn't get involved with, meddling included. She could do to ease back, let others solve their own problems. Like, Darkblade comes to mind (though there may be a better example). I do think it was a good episode, but you got Marinette admitting she's already busy, and doesn't want to be class rep, but steps up as no one else is. This is just an added responsibility she doesn't need but does so because she's involving herself in others problems.

This also leads into the other issue: Marinette's tendency to overpile onto her plate. They even focused on this in Gamer 2.0 but instead of doing a lesson of learning to ease up, take a break, and have fun (which Adrien could've been great for, heck, could've had them bond over a busy lifestyle); but nope, she passes Max off to her parents and continue being busy.

And of course, there's the big issue of her crush.

Like, they're 13-14 yos dealing with first crushes, they're going to be cringe and crazy as they don't know how to handle this, but they just take it way too far. And the extremes it's taken isn't even funny but concerning.

Marinette having his schedule.

The hoard of pictures.

Jealousy that spirals to extremes.

And having rose colored view of Adrien, to thinking he can never do wrong and feeling like she needs to protect and assist him, even at the risk of herself (Collector).

Part of the worst part about this is that this exists for the writers' amusement, taking it to unlikable extremes and not portrayed as really bad flaws that need to be addressed or have lessons about; which leads me to question what's the exaggeration and what can be more accurate/reasonable for the cringey, dramatic crush. Some of which could've been fine issues to fault her for and for her to get called out and learn from, but we don't get that, all we get is unpleasantness.

Oh! You could also cover Marinette's lack of prioritizing herself, and may not knowing how to take a break and have fun. Cause I don't know if this girl knows how to relax. And she definitely doesn't behave like a kid, but much older. Could even delve into the friendship problems she has not really connecting with her friends as well because she doesn't know how to be a kid, how to mess around and goof off.

Marinette has a good number of issues and flaws that can be addressed and worked with, but they pick the wrong ones to focus on.

[stanpinesdykewife]

ME AGAIN hi hi nothing extravagant as i don’t want to overwhelm you, but i’ve been rereading your works again and i’m just DYING to know your personal headcanons for stan, either sfw, nsfw or both!!! thank you for your work you’re amazing 💗💗💗 - 🎀

THIS I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS… thank you so much for this ask what a super fun idea!!!! here goes!!!

under the cut: sfw and nsfw stan headcanons… as your boyfriend!! (i’m blushing) (no gendered pronouns used)

fic rec at the bottom :)

sfw:

big on chivalry! says he was raised “right” and he’s a “gentleman” etc. holds open doors for you and offers his arm instead of holding hands. also really big on flowers or other gifts

pointedly uses the word “date” instead of just inviting you out: “great! it’s a date!” vs “let’s go out tonight” (yes he thinks there’s a difference)

can’t keep his hands off you! always needs to be touching your waist, your back, your wrist, or at least standing close enough to know you’re right next to him

cheesy flirt!! loves the yawn and stretch to put his arm over you. constantly uses his bank of pick-up lines on you: “did it hurt?... when you fell from heaven?” and “you got a map? cuz i just got lost in your eyes!” probably studied a book of them in high school

that being said stan gets so easily flustered it’s hilarious HAHAHA the second you flirt back or even give him a smile and a Look up and down he’s sweating

never admits that he gets flustered because he’s used to the idea of being a Big Macho Man. but he knows you know that he knows how easily you can make him melt

enjoys you playing with his face like feeling up his jaw and cheeks and nose and mouth. it makes him feel pretty!

loves holding you in his lap… will refuse to admit his legs are numb in favor of hugging you around your waist and nuzzling the back of your head

loves loves loves teasing you! like grabbing things out of your hands and holding them high up, grabbing your waist and holding you hostage when you try to stand or leave the room, constantly asking “what’s in it for me?” whenever you ask him to cut it out or do something simple like pass your phone. but stan will never ever say no to a kiss

nsfw:

obvious in all my fics but stan cannot shut up. he loves to talk during sex and loves to make you talk back: begging for him, asking “politely” for him to touch you, telling him how good you feel

MAJOR praise kink. huge. the reason he’s so chatty during sex is to make sure you want the things he wants. he craves the validation that he makes you feel good. LOVES to hear you moan and make noise for him

BIG SERVICE GUY!!! loves going down on you. literally moans into you because he loves the taste and how good it feels for you. probably came in his pants once or twice just from palming himself during it

loves to overstimulate you. always reminds you to literally shove his head away if it’s too much because he gets so lost in how loud you get

he’s kind of gross lol he’ll wipe his sex hands all up on his clothes or sheets and not bother washing his hands unless you tell him to

BIG kisser. lots of tongue. he doesn’t have much experience kissing so he’s really sloppy with it especially during sex when he’s trying to kiss you and fuck you at the same time

tits guy! doesn’t even matter whether you have tits or not. he loves them and loves nipples in his mouth especially when you arch your chest up to him

loves coming inside

he’s so gross! if he doesn’t come in you he’ll come ON you and smear it into your skin. the messier the better

aftercare is so important to him after meeting you… he doesn’t have much experience with it himself but he adores you and can’t help himself from snuggling up even if you’re complaining about how gross the sheets are

inspo from Must See: Mystery Shack by guilty_pleasures_abound but he definitely gets generous after a good fuck. will run out to get you water or snacks or just some wipes to get you cleaned up!!

all done! this was so fun! would love more hc requests whether it be for more stan-centric ones or other characters/scenarios!!

[westanthewaterman]

Feel You - Dark x GN!DA!Reader

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: Reunited after a century apart, Dark and the District Attorney spend some quality time together. Or more simply put, love sick Dark -> feral Dark.

Contents: handjobs, penetrative sex, no pronouns or body parts used for reader, standard Dark pet names (dear heart, pet, etc.), mild voice kink, blink and you miss it references to Dark's mind powers

AN: Idk where this came from, but it was fun to write. I'll post to AO3 and add all my usual links later, I should've been in bed an hour ago. If you're still here despite my hiatus, I appreciate you.

         Dark hikes your leg up onto his hip. He relishes in the softness of your skin beneath his fingers, a concrete reminder that you’re here, that you’re together again after everything.

         The new position allows him more space to roll his hips, grinding down against the heat between your legs. You shudder beneath him. He repeats the motion once, twice, and you throw your head back against the pillows.  His hungry, grey eyes follow the column of your throat upwards until they land on your mouth. Your lips part around a whimper and he can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss against them.

“I’ll never tire of hearing you sing for me, dear heart.”

“Damien,” You whine before hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“I think it’s a little late to hide from me now.” He chuckles. “What’s gotten you so shy, darling?”

“You never talked this much before.”

         Dark tenses, a familiar, far-away look in his eyes, one he always gets when the two of you discuss the past. You cup the side of his face, gently guiding his gaze back to yours. He blinks. A melancholy smile settles on his face. You pull his head down so that you can press your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my love. There are bad memories, yes, but also good ones. In fact, I can recall quite a few memories of us just as we are now, bare in each other’s arms, locked in the throes of passion.”

There’s a wry smile on his face, one that reminds you of evenings spent tucked away between bookshelves, sneaking out of dormitories at the crack of dawn, a rendezvous in the storage closet of a crowded chapel. Your heart aches for all the two of you have lost and can never get back. But despite everything you had been through, the two of you were together again.

Dark presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I can feel how your mind races. I think about it too, even now. Almost a century without you and I never stopped feeling your absence. I ached to hold you in my arms, to have you beneath me, to feel you tight as a vice as you come apart around me.”

A thought creeps into your mind and turns your stomach to lead. He had been by himself for so long, sure you were gone forever. You couldn’t blame him or be angry, but still the thought makes you sick.

“Was,” you pause a moment, steeling yourself for his answer. “Was there ever anyone else? In your heart, or your bed?”

He looks at you as if your words have burned him. When he speaks, his voice is firm, unwavering.

“No. My dear heart, there could never be another. I vowed to love you in sickness and in health, in love and in death. There could only ever be you.”

“Oh.” You blush.

The intensity of his answer makes you feel foolish for even suggesting such a thing. You drop your gaze, absently picking at the sheets beneath you. It’s Dark’s turn to take your face in his hand and bring your gaze back to him.

“I loved you deeply, but I know my actions did not always convey that. At times, I allowed my responsibilities and ambitions to blind me to how I was neglecting you. You deserved a better man than I knew how to be back then, and I have spent a century regretting it. But now, despite terrible circumstances and the battles still to be fought, we have a second chance, and I intend to use it to do right by you.”

“Damien, I…I don’t know what to say.”

“There is no need to say anything, dear heart. I know you feel as strongly as I do; I feel it through our bond, and soon I’ll feel it here as well.”

Dark presses a finger against your entrance, pressing it into you slowly. You cry out, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him flush against you

“You said earlier that I never used to talk very much when we were intimate, and you were right.” His voice drips with venom as he continues. “The prim and proper mayor, so worried about civility and manners. Too obsessed with his image and what was ‘acceptable’ to truly speak his mind.”

You want to argue, to defend Dark’s former self against his own harsh criticism, instead a moan rips its way out of your throat when two more fingers fill you. Dark’s grin is wicked. He ducks down to press his lips to your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a quick tug. You clench around his fingers, earning an amused chuckle.

“I have no such worries. My only concern is pleasing you and, by the way your body responds for me, I can tell I’m doing just that. This little hole of yours is so hot and tight around my fingers, and it’s all for me, isn’t it?”

A shudder wracks your body and you moan, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Oh,” Dark purrs. “Now what got that reaction? You like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, pet?”

“Y-Yes.”

“But what is it that has you so responsive? Is it my voice in your ear? The things that I’m saying to you? Or maybe none of that matters. Perhaps I could say anything, and you would respond just as wantonly, so long as I have you filled with my fingers or my cock.”

“All of it, it’s all of it. Damien, fuck.”

“Dear heart, such foul language. Have I already wrecked you so thoroughly?”

You scowl at him but you both know there’s no mirth behind it. “Fuck you.”

         There’s a wicked glint in his eyes as Dark grabs a handful of your hair, pulling just enough to force your head back and bare your throat to him. Sharp canines scratch playfully against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You should be careful what you ask for, my love. I am a changed man with a century of pent-up sexual frustration. I could take you over and over and over again, never tiring until I have given you every drop of my spend and the only word you know is my name.”

Dark sets a languid pace thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

“You want it now, just as much as you did back then, isn’t that right? You wanted the serious, respectable mayor to break. You craved to be taken passionately, for him to make love to you like a man starved.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod frantically, bucking your hips against his hand.

“I have hungered for you for so long, dear heart; I feel almost ravenous with it.”

Dark removes his fingers from you and fists his leaking cock, stroking himself slowly. You find yourself mesmerized by the motion and the way his stomach muscles tense and flex with every stroke of his hand. Your eyes follow a drop of his arousal as it drips down the underside of his cock. You lick your lips. Knocking his hand out of the way, you take him in your own, his length hot and heavy in your palm.

         He groans appreciatively as you stroke him from base to tip, occasionally rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. You guide his hand to rest over your heart.

 “You’ve spent all this time talking about what I want and how you can please me. What do you want?”

“I want to make up for lost time. I want to give you everything I could not before.”

“But that’s still about me. Damien, what do you want?

He falters. “I…I just want you. I want to feel you. I want to know that you are real, and not just some illusion he made to torment me.”

“I want to feel you too.” You guide the head of his cock to your entrance. “I’m here, my love. I’m real. This is real.”

Dark presses into you in one long, slow thrust that has him buried to the hilt. Both of you moan at the sensation. You wrap your legs around his waist and urge him forward, forcing his cock deeper inside.

“Fuck, my love, I never thought I would feel you like this again.”

You smirk. “Such foul language, Damien. Now who’s wrecked who?”

Instead of a response, Dark grabs your face and presses your lips together in a passionate kiss. So much is shared between you in this single moment of contact, decades of sorrow and grief, an emptiness immeasurable by time. But there is also hope and joy, lust and elation. Most importantly, there is love; a love that has weathered the test of time and survived even the most unthinkable circumstances.

The two of you pull apart, both crying and holding each other like your lives depend on it.

“I love you, dear heart. Thank you for coming back to me.”

“I love you too, Damien. Thank you for finding me.”

Dark speeds up the pace of his thrusts, breathing heavily in your ear.

“I am afraid it has been too long, my love. I have spent a century waiting to feel you like this again and now I find myself unable to hold back my release.”

“I’m close too. You feel so good.”

“I want you to cum with me now. Let me feel you.”

         He grabs your thighs and presses them back so that he can rut into you, ruthlessly. You cry out at the way the new angle causes the head of his cock to brush against a sweet spot deep inside that has you seeing stars. Your orgasm washes over you and you finish with a cry of his name. The tight heat of you bares down around him and the dam holding back Dark’s climax breaks. Waves of pleasure crash over him as he stills inside you, filling you with his release.

         The two of you lay together in silence, collecting your bearings. You think you might fall asleep until Dark gives a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you.

“How-”

He gives you a wicked grin and presses his lips to your ear.

“I told you I was a changed man, dear heart, and we have quite a lot of lost time to make up for.”

[velveteenprayers]

IN THE DAYTIME, I'M PERCY JACKSON…

pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader

summary: miraculous au

word count: 1k+

a/n: none! pls enjoy

Percy stood on the edge of the building, admiring the city skyline, crisp wind biting at his cheeks. When the dark floating creature -Plagg, he soon found out - told him he'd be able to reach wherever he pleases, he didn't believe him. Not like he does now, ecstasy bubbling in his chest at the sight of afternoon traffic. He could go anywhere he wanted. No longer contained by degenerates in the hallway or the bum of a man back home. He was free.

He was now tapping his staff (because he had one now) in deep contemplation about where he should go next. Jumping onto his apartment building's roof was easy enough, but now he needed to do a serious stunt. Or maybe he should just go to the ice-cream stall a few blocks down. The owner was usually in full operation this time, considering it was Friday and all-

Just then his train of thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash behind him. Heightened senses now alerted, he turned around,  prepared to attack and scanned the perimeter. Just when he thought he was finally going crazy, a wreck of a person emerged from the now damaged roof exhaust, arms failing as you looked like you were about to topple over the edge. Yikes, he thought, approaching you to assist, his concern outweighing any alarm.  

But as he was, you suddenly seemed to gain composure, taking in deep breaths, a clear look of panic in your eyes. For the first time he saw the black string tied around the roof exhaust, his eyes following it until they landed on a red and black polka dotted yo-yo. Your suit, which he had also just noticed, was similarly fashioned. 

His day becoming impossible more exciting, a smile overtook his face. Were you also like him? Just then, your eyes met, and you swiftly looked away, face scrunched in embarrassment as

you pretended to admire some nonexistent thing in the horizon. He almost started laughing, but didn't for your sake.

"Are you okay up there?" He yelled out, and you pretended to see him for the first time.

"What?"

"I asked if you're okay up there, you seem a little...tied up."

"Are you making fun of me, cat boy?"

…

Cat boy?

"Look, I know this is a bit..." He struggled to find the right word.

"Weird? Strange? Scary? Disorientating?"

Percy nodded his head.

"All of the above. But I think it means something. Did you also talk to one of those, um, floaty magical thingies?

"You mean the kwamis." You deadpanned.

"Hm ?"

"They're called kwamis," you repeated, stepping closer towards him, having untangled your yo-yo, "not floaty magical thingies."

"Wow, you actually listened to that spiel?"

You raised an eyebrow in a faux unimpressed manner, though your face betrayed you,  showing amusement.

"You didn't? Well I don't know how I feel working with a person who barely knows the basics."

"The basics?"

"Why, the basics of being a Miraculous holder, of course." You flicked at his chest playfully, showing him a close-eyed smile, as though you were letting him in on a secret. And weren't you?

Just then, your earring beeped loudly, your hand lurching towards it, a look of horror overtaking your face.

"Gotta go!" You announced abruptly, throwing your yo-yo to the nearest building. It failed at latching onto anything, and Percy had to watch as you awkwardly tried to connect it a few more times. Once you did, you left him with a warm smile and a "Bye! See you next time cat boy!" before unceremoniously crashing into the next building, getting up, and running into the distance.

What a weirdo, Percy thought to himself as he detransformed, entering his building, thoughts consumed solely by you. And if he was going to do this Miraculous thing gig full time, he needed a better name than Cat Boy, seriously. And possibly a better partner.

Gods, Percy hated starting new schools. The fact that it was the middle of the school year didn't help. He stood in the doorway, trying to find a seat in the overpopulated classroom. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and that did little to ease his nerves. He timidly chose a desk in the front row, which would probably do very little for his popularity, but what other option did he have? As he was sitting, anxiously waiting for the lesson to begin so he could go home sooner, he failed to notice the looming shadow over him. 

"I sit here."

"Huh?!" He quickly became aware of the towering, monsterish boy. What in the world were they feeding this kid at home? 

"I said that I'm sitting here."

"Oh." Percy had begun to realise how deadly quiet the class had become, everyone watching in either fear or interest, or a combination of both. His blood was rushing to his ears, and he felt a pit of nausea growing in his stomach. He might die from pure embarrassment before this kid would lay a hand on him at all. Until he heard a yell of "Lay off him, Reno." and caught sight of  a lethal glare, and the aforementioned boy was gone.

With your sudden appearance, the class  seemed to collectively let out an exhale, all of them returning to their previous conversations as though nothing had happened. Percy, however, was fully ensnared by you.

"Hey, um," he cleared his throat to get your attention, your intimidating glare lessening as you glanced at him. Gods, where you pretty, "thanks, for your, um, help back there." 

Why was he stuttering so much?

You observed him coolly.

"No problem. You're new, right?" 

It was not as much a question as it was a statement.

"Yeah." You nodded your head astutely, holding out your hand. His ring clad one met yours in a brief moment of eye contact. You had starry eyes. Like the ones in books.

"Percy."

"Name."

 At the sound of the bell, you walked towards  a seat next to a red haired girl, black earring catching the sunlight.

[jolyneart]

This'll be a long-ish post about my The Locked Tomb themed MTG deck and how I made like 20 versions of it before I decided to build it (and how I'm still working on it).

(I want to do legit art for this card)

If you are part of the Venn diagram of these two interests, or you want to see my slow descent into madness ovear a year of trying to put cardboard together, check the spoilers below.

So, I haven't been playing Magic for too long (a bit over a year). Weirdly I have owned cards since original Ixalan, but I never bothered learning to play until a friend invited me to play commander. I just wanted them for the pretty pictures, I have always admired Magic artists and they have been a huge inspiration on my art career.

Anyways, not too long after I started to play, I got this idea into my head that I should do a Locked Tomb commander deck.

"That'd be fun!" I thought

Well

All of these are over a year old (and are not my only first attempts, but I'll talk about those later).

I had two main issues when starting to build this deck:

1- I have never been interested into deck-building before in a card game

2- I have no fucking idea of what I'm doing

The first commander I chose to lead this deck, that I still think thematically fits within TLT universe, is Ratadrabik of Urborg

This Rat of a man has given me so many headaches, I'm sure that now I'd be able to do make a half-decent deck with him in the lead, hell I do have a black/white aristocrats deck that he could command just fine.

But my issue was that I had no idea how to balance his legends theme and zombie kindred theme at the same time, in the same deck. I was just incapable. And all of my results, budget or not, were jank piles that did very little or exploded into an infinite combo with cards like Boromir, Warden of the Tower or Nazgul. It just didn't feel right and the Locked Tomb theme was barely holding on by a thread with the things I was putting in there. There were barely ANY skeletons in any of these! (this will keep happening)

Anyways, after giving up on Ratadrabik (which btw I think would make for a great Ianthe proxy) I moved on to find some other commander and color combination that'd enable something else that wasn't a pile of legendary creatures.

Queue in Varina, Lich Queen

It's a Zombie Wizard! She cares about zombies, those are kind of early skeletons! She raises the undead herself!

Well, I do think Varina is great, and in other world where I knew how to build decks back then, she might just have been my Harrow commander deck

I don't even think the decks I made for her were that bad at all, just extremely expensive. And also the zombie theme, while much better supported mechanically, I didn't feel really represented the kind of necromantic powers we see in the books at all.

Shoutout to Mikaeus, he'd make for a great Jod if anyone wants to make a deck about our lord and savior the undying emperor.

Ok, now I'm going to take a bit of a detour to talk about what I actually like playing in mtg (not just commander). I predictably really enjoy playing black and graveyard strategies, but also really love putting big idiot beaters into the field with those strategies .I know, groundbreaking. But it is what it is, two of my favourite decks do this in one way or another.

God's perfect deck, my Sauron deck, was my first precon, that has left the lands of preconstruction long ago and is my dearest possession. Is it my most powerful deck? nope. Is it unbeatable? Not really, I almost never win with this deck.

What BIG Sauron does is, in an extremely thematic way, become a problem for everyone at the table, do evil things, and have everyone beat me down for my reanimation crimes.

If you are interested, you can check out that deck here.

Anyways sorry, back to the locked tomb, SO I like the graveyard right? Wouldn't it be nice that there'd be a famous woman necromancers in mtg? What if she leaded the deck?

Well, the most that I can say is that there really can be too much of a good thing. I'm talking about swamps.

Initially I had these two running around in the Ratadrabik deck. I still stand by the idea of having these flip walkers be young Harrow/Gideon and flip them into their "First House" versions. The Gideon/Kiriona and Kytheon/Gideon thing still drives me insane.

I was too sad discarding them, so I grabbed the Lilly card and tried to make it work, I really tried, I put on a lot of effort and care. But it didn't work, it wasn't her, it was me.

I built a pretty generic aristocrat shell, but I think that type of archetype really benefits of having more colors to work with (specially white).

So, with three commanders locked in the tomb (I also tried a Gut rakdos deck but I'm not even going to talk about it), what was next? I spent months on these and still had nothing to show for it. Was I the problem? Was I cursed with bad deck dissease?

No, that cannot be. I'm building other decks while this is going on and those are doing just fine. Lae'zel//Master Chef, Gandalf Big Artifacts. The issue might be that the head of the deck is always caring for just the one thing, there was not much diversity. I kept making Necromancers but had no Cavaliers to back them up.

If there could just be a way to have two little guys up there in the command zone. Wait a minute...

So, this was truly a jank fest. Partner is an extremely strong mechanic in commander, and Tymna is specially strong as a card to have access early. So I decided to justify using these to make the biggest pile of nonsense happen.

Equipment? check. Initiative? check. Skeletons? check. Zombies? check. Graveyard? check. Lifegain? check.

While goldfishing I realized that while the commanders do a great job to sustain the rest of the deck, the ammount of themes and archetypes made this a pile of cards that I can barely call a deck. And worst of all, they enabled two pretty strong commanders, and that didn't feel that'd be satisfactory at all in actual play.

I even prepared proxies for these! Feel free to use them if you want.

Also, I tried the whole partner thing swapping out Tymna for Ikra Shidiqi. Bringing out another whole color didn't help with the theme soup I was working with.

So I wholy abandoned the idea of both partners, and maybe even making this deck.

Maybe my hopes and dreams of having a functional silly lesbians and skeletons deck were doomed (yuri) from the beginning.

Months pass, I built 3 or 4 other decks in the meantime that work, can compete and be fun, sometimes all at the same time if you'd believe it. I had completely lost faith in this deck idea.

All until one day, were I was checking out a pile of cards I had pulled from the recent MH3 set to put them into my binder. And then I see it. There he was, this fucking guy with a shovel(?), looking at me.

I read again his fairly big wall of text, what does this guy do again?

Oh, he does necromancy stuff? attacks? wait wait, he draws POWER from the GRAVEYARD?? in JUND?

He really saved it. Not only I feel this perfectly represents the dynamics of Cavalier is in charge of creating enough thanergy for their necromancer, but ALSO does the necromancer thing, and ALSO loves having like 10 power and beating down face. This was a message, the dream was still alive.

So, I make a list, I order cards, I scrounge cards from my other black decks. And there it is. It's real

The Locked Tomb Griddlehark Commander Deck

But... that's not how my list looks right now. Yeah I know this deck is cursed into being always changing I think. But, the main issue here was what I said before. It had to pull cards from multiple decks to sustain itself. And I learned quickly that I don't like having my baby, my Sauron, being not functional, and that keeping track of what cards are where and swapping them out constantly sucks tremendously.

So, I pulled back most of the cards to their original decks. What was left was a corpse, a beautiful incomplete deck. So I selected cards from my collection, lower powered ones, niche ones, weird ones, and put them in for their more powerful counterparts.

It's function is extremely simple, it fills it's graveyard quickly, ramps, and with Coram on the battlefield, you turn that self-mill into card advantage, the graveyard into a power source and bring back powerful creatures like the Resurrection Beasts (Eldrazi)

There also are skeletons in there, of course.

This deck needed to die many deaths to exist. But isn't that the theme?

I'll make sure to put up the new decklist on my moxfield whenever I get a few upgrades.

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[sysig]

Size difference.png (Patreon)

[orcelito]

God I don't wanna go to therapy tomorrow. Sick of talking about my feelings in a clinical setting. I do enough psychoanalysis just by myself, and now I gotta sit through it with someone else??? Come on.

[thatone-highlighter]

“Do you know how tiring it is to have to reforge a bond every single time I change hands? Maybe being the Gem of Intelligence means I have to deal with so many egotistical mongrels one after the other with no breaks in between, and maybe you’re the first to actually treat me like a person!”

Felt like doing something funky for the one year anniversary of @maldito-arbol ‘s fic Ill Be Your Best Friend, second in the Were Just Human series!

Ive done this comic before but i thought it would be fun to do it a second time to compare and its such a good scene overall so. Its crazy that its been a year, it both feels like too long and not long enough. Im so glad i decided to read this series it is so good the writing is amazing and the characters are all so complicated and interesting, and of course all the people I’ve met and become friends with because of it! so i just wanna say thanks Mal, for deciding to write this i guess, this fic has been amazing it was a wonderful thing to look forward to every second Friday and its crazy to think i could have easily never met you or anyone else in the server or not if it hadn’t been for this series. So thanks and i hope this comic shows even a bit of my appreciation for you and your fic

And to anyone who hasn’t read the series, you should!! I Love fic 1 Marcy’s unreliable narrator and her mumbling habit keeping me on my toes trying to keep track of everything. The girls’ powers and the introduction to the gems and everything that happens with that is just *chefs kiss* amazing, and don’t even get me Started on fic 3 i cant even say anything without spoiling! So if you haven’t read it, go read it! Its such a good series and the writing and characters are incredible and agh! And if you have read it, read it again i don’t care its so good i could re-read it endlessly

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[tonycries]

Like A Fever

Synopsis. What was sweeter - you or the aphrodísiacs that they just so happened to take? Well, only one way to find out.

Pairings. Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, aphrodísiacs, cúmplay, needy desperate boys, oral (male + female receiving), spitting, overstimming, Geto is kinda mean, voyeurísm (Choso’s), semi-public (Nanami’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Gojo’s came out accidentally a bit fluffy whoopsies.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Like candy

“Ya better clean your act up, doll.” he chuckles darkly in your ear, lips dragging down your neck. “S’bad manners, y’know?”

Telling you to clean your act up when he was the one making such a mess of you? Oh you could just smack him for that little comment - well, if he didn’t have you folded in half and split apart on his throbbing cock, that is. 

And maybe he senses it - you wouldn’t be surprised. Because Toji’s giving a playful bite to your bottom lip, humming into your open mouth, “What? Got something to say to me?” As if to support his point, he pulls out - just enough that his cum dribbles down your shaky legs. “Had me eat that damn chocolate n’ now you’re giving me attitude?”

Only a souvenir from the way he’d gone so feral with just one bite, filling you up over and over until you were left wondering whether it was more the aphrodisiac or that Toji just liked seeing your poor pussy so overfilled and bloated.

“N-no.” you manage to get out.  

“Good. Because I’m not done yet.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pulling out. Completely. 

A disappointed little whine leaves your lips before you even realize what’s happening. And you’re left clenching so greedily around nothing, thick globs of cum landing in a pool on the drenched sheets below. 

“No- come back-.” If you were in any better state of mind you’d almost be embarrassed about how pathetically you were begging for something- anything. Just anything but for Toji to pull away, kissing down your body until he was face-to-face with your dripping cunt. 

But did he listen? Of course not. Because it you were such a fucking vision down there, it was almost hard to look - your pretty pussy all painted white with his cum, seeping into your skin. 

And Toji’s so fucking hypnotized that he doesn’t even give you a warning before plunging nose-deep, unable to even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. No, the only thing on his mind was to bully his tongue through your swollen folds, dipping just into your sloppy entrance and ah-

He groans into your cunt as he tastes himself. Tastes you. 

Sweet. You were so fucking sweet. 

So pretty falling apart on his tongue as he laps up your juices like a man possessed. All your cute, broken little moans going straight to his aching dick. All that cum from before? It wouldn’t go to waste. 

“Shit.” you flinch as he hisses out little profanities into your sensitive pussy, “Y’taste so good, so mine.” Words slurred and unfocused, like the chocolate was getting to him - or maybe it was how pussydrunk he was now.

Toji is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his lips around it - clearly having way too much fun with this. And shit you could almost cry from the overstimulation - walls fluttering sensitively around his relentless tongue. 

“C’mon, doll.” Toji’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. “Give it t’me. Wan’ it all.”

And he was so fucking messy with it too - Toji always was, but right now it was like he couldn’t decide where to go next. Stretching you out, dipping inside your slutty hole, swirling his tongue against your ravaged clit over and over and- 

“Yes! Yes yes yes-” your body jerks violently. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Feels so fucking good- don’ stop-.” 

“So demanding.” he tuts mockingly around your dripping entrance, the vibrations sending white-hot jolts of electricity up your spine. But he’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. It wasn’t enough - it never might be and fuck Toji wanted more. 

To taste it more. To have you like this - big fat tears dripping down your cheeks, pussy trying to suck up his hot tongue so needily, so hard that it was almost difficult to tonguefuck you into insanity. Half-lucidly, you wondered whether his jaw wasn’t tired, tongue cramping up. 

And honestly Toji could stay here on his knees for hours, just teasing you with his tongue - but no, there was something else more important.

“Shit- Toji, m’close m’-”

Without another word, he’s pulling away. Disappointment quickly turning into anticipation at the sheer sight of his face glossed so prettily with your juices, messy and dripping all the way down his chin. You gulp as Toji swipes his tongue across his lips, savoring every last drop of you. 

“You’re welcome, I cleaned up your act.” His fist wraps around his still-achingly hard cock, eyes locked on you like a predator cornering his prey, “Now s’time f’me to mess it all up again.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Impatient!

“My love,” he whispers against your ear, barely audible above the bustling office party. One hand reaching down oh-so-covertly to cup your ass against that sinfully thin dress. “If I don’t fuck you right now, I think I might just fuckin’ lose it.”

Oh. 

Which is how you found yourself shoved against the wall of the nearest bathroom, the tile cool against your skin. Barely even fully inside before Nanami - desperate and already fumbling with his belt - is swiftly locking the door.

“K-Kento- ah-” you gasp, the words dying in your throat as he shoves your dress up. Bothering just enough to pull aside your panties before spitting on your poor pussy from behind. Once. Twice. Missing on purpose to let a steady stream of saliva and slick trail filthily down your quivering thighs. “People are gonna- hah- wonder…”

God, your head was spinning - Nanami was so fucking filthy right now, all sloppy desperation where he was usually suave kisses, playing you like a fine instrument during sex.

“Let them.” he groans against your ear. Smearing his spit all over your pussy, toying with you in a way that was so maddening. “I jus’ need you right- fuck, right now. Jus’ relax f’me, darling.”

You scoff, both as impatient and needy as you were confused. “Kento, you ngh- drag me out here and tell me to relax?” Clenching so desperately around nothing as he drags his swollen tip up and down your folds, sliding it so lewdly in-between. “Why don’t you just fuck me alre-”

Because the words are barely out of your mouth before he’s pushing in, inching inside just slow enough that he wouldn’t hurt his pretty girl.

“Oh! Shit- ah fuck fuck. S’too- ngh” you can barely form coherent sentences at just the stretch. 

“Big?” he’s huffing out a laugh as you keen at the stretch, as if your walls aren’t sucking him in so obscenely, hips bucking up mindlessly for more. “Y’can take it, I know- you can-”

Thrusting only in quick, shallow little jabs of his hips, like he was trying to stop some utterly depraved part of himself from fucking into your cute pussy until you were screaming his name. Not even wanting to give you time to adjust because shit he needed this- wanted this so bad-

Smack!

A hand comes down on the wall just inches away from your head, like a desperate attempt to collect himself. 

“Mmm- Kento.” you groan, drunk off the way he was filling you up so good. Full. So full - and he wasn’t even halfway in. wanting more. Veins pulsing against your walls in a dizzying thump! thump! thump! to which your sanity was slowly dancing away from you. 

“Y-yes?” 

You turn around to bat your lashes at him, “Just fuck me the way I know you want to.”

It’s like something snapped - maybe Nanami’s restraint, maybe his sanity, definitely you by the end of this. 

“Well then,” he hums, dangerously low. Looping two strong arms around your waist so you can’t escape. Tight, grip almost bruising. “What m’girl wants, she’s gonna-” Immediately reeling his hips back all the way till his weeping tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “-get.”

And God Nanami might be pussydrunk out of his mind, but whatever was left of that rational part of his mind had him shoving his fingers inside your mouth. Muffling the delicious little moan that rips from your throat as he finally bottoms out. 

Stretching you to insanity, heavy balls smacking your ass so hard you were sure it would leave marks.

“Y’know, thank fuck for Higuruma. Didn’t think you’d be taking it like such a little slut in the bathroom if he hadn’t slipped me that chocolate.” Not even giving you the time adjust before he was ramming his cock into you, whispering in your ear in such a mean little tone. “Better be thankful now, since m’going easy on you-”

A shiver runs down your spine - maybe at his words, maybe at the way he was fucking you liked he hated you. Not even letting you breathe with the way he had his hips smacking yours, tip kissing your cervix, fingers poised on your throbbing clit. 

Ready to break - to ruin you.

“-because we haven’t even gotten home, yet.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - "Shut up and cum."

“It’s probably not even that bad, right?”

Oh, you shouldn’t have said that - you really, really shouldn’t have said that. 

Because now, not only was Geto Suguru reeling from the after-effects of swallowing some damned lust curse - he was also going to make you bear the brunt of it. And the words have barely left your mouth before he’s pushing you onto the nearest flat surface - eyes dazed, hair untied, looking miles away as he all but rips off your shorts and drenched panties with it.

Whispering hotly against your ear, “You’re going to fucking regret that.”

That was over an hour ago. Probably, you were too far gone to keep track of the time at this point.

Because what you certainly didn’t expect was to still have Geto buried in your poor, abused cunt, ramming into you from behind like a fucking animal. So hard you were sure it left marks - your thighs on his, his balls on your ass, fingers on your hips. 

So debauched and merciless that all you can do is let out a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! each time his angry tip kisses your cervix. Words cracking as you manage to get out, “S-Sugu-”

“Shut up.”  Voice so jagged and hoarse that it takes you a second to realize that it’s your boyfriend. Hips only getting sloppier as he speeds up - his only response. 

You were getting fucked by your boyfriend - but it didn’t feel like your boyfriend. Just a madman out to ruin your ravaged pussy. He’s been teasing you this whole time - toying with your pretty pussy like his favorite fucktoy. Always stopping just when you were about to cum. Driving you mad so torturously slow.

“But Sugu~” you yelp, and he gives your ass a sharp smack. A warning - but you still plow on, hoping to speak some sense back into the man. “A-all I said was-”

“Didn’t I fucking tell you to shut up?” 

Honestly, Geto doesn’t even know why he’s mad - he loves you. He loves when you talk. He loves when you’re all needy for him. But it’s just that his cock was so hard it felt like he was about to fucking explode - and that there was no better cure for that than seeing you all breathless and crying to cum. 

Is he being a bully? Yeah. Does it make his balls squeeze so painfully hard watching you try and play with your pretty clit? Only for him to smack your hand away? Fuck yeah.

Which is why he can’t take his eyes off the heavenly sight of you spread so shamefully, sloppy and wet enough that you’re dripping all over him. Face scrunched into such an adorable pout while he massages your plushy walls, trying to milk something delicious..

So fucking pretty. It almost makes him wanna play nice.

“A-all ya gotta do- ngh-” you were milking him so good it was almost impossible for Geto to form coherent sentences. “-is shut up and take it. S’that so hard? Hah-”  Hips are erratic now, fucking any and every thought out of your mind. “Running your mouth for what? Just lemme take care of you, gorgeous.” 

It’s all you can do to not sob in desperation, hips grinding down traitorously on his cock in an attempt to meet his merciless cadence. You don’t even have to think about it - just some primal, pathetic part of yourself trying to get off. 

Surprisingly, Geto lets you - maybe he’s reached his limit, too. 

Because he’s letting you reach out an angle his hips, nails digging into his slutty waist. Just trying to fuck yourself deeper. Harder - the way you knew would have him hitting just the right spots that have you-

He’s stopped. 

“Now now, what did I say?” Geto’s tutting mockingly, lips curling into such a cruel little smile. And when he looks down at you, you don’t know whether it’s the aphrodisiac or that sadistic little part of himself taking over. Lips ghosting so gently over yours, “If you’re that impatient then make the both of us cum. Now. Or you’re not cumming at all.” Oh. He definitely hasn’t reached his limit - and you think he won’t stop until he’s broken yours.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Not enough (never is)

“Please, baby.” Choso lets out a broken little grunt, milking his base tighter. Back arching off the bed each time his fist flies up and down his swollen cock, “C-can’t hah- cum without you.” 

God, fuck you and your secret “special chocolate” stash. 

Well, Choso wishes he could fuck you right now, because only one bite of that little pink chocolate that he’d found all the way in the back of the refrigerator and that’s all he could think about. 

So here he was - pants thrown across the room, boxers shoved down to his ankles. One hand wrapped around his cock, the other trying to muffle those pathetic moans leaving him each time he came at the thought of you. You, looking so unfairly pretty, flashing him that sultry smile before you left for work. You, how much better you’d look on your knees with that smile wrapped around his cock. Looking up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around him - oh, how badly he just wants to steal you away from your workplace.

Trying so desperately to chase- which orgasm was it this time? He didn’t even know, doesn’t even think his fried brain could count right now. 

Ah, who gives a shit - Choso just can’t help himself, okay? It wasn’t enough. Never will be - he could cum at just the thought of you over and over again until he physically couldn’t anymore. 

“Shit.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. “Wan’ your ngh- sweet lips w-wrapped around me.” 

“Is that so, Cho?”

Your thighs squeeze together at the way Choso twitches so sensitively in his hands just at the sound of your voice. So red and so so angry, hard enough that you wondered whether it was painful. Eyeing everything from the way he was sprawled so pretty across your bed, a delicate flush spreading all over his body. Fist stalling - but still not stopping - at the sight of you. 

Your boyfriend manages to grit out, hips stuttering as he fucks his fist faster and faster, chest heaving, eyes locked on you. “Y-you’re early?”

“Mhm. Seems you’ve been busy?” you purr, walking ever-so-slowly into the heady room. Giving him a big, pouty look you knew he’d like. “Without me?”

And oh he lets out a broken moan of your name. Only getting sloppier - precum glistening all the way down his wrist, erratic with no rhythm like he was desperate to fuck something so delicious out. Something you really wanted to see. 

“Ngh- didn’t mean to, baby.” But he didn’t mean it, too focused on the way you were walking so agonizingly slowly towards him. “C-couldn’t stop mm- thinking of you.”

Ah, Choso was so pretty - delicate tears streaming down his face, cheeks flushed, hair undone. So overstimulated and needy that you just couldn’t not tease him. Just a little bit. 

“Guess you snuck into my secret stash, huh?” You get down on your knees between those thick, muscled thighs, running your hands up and down his milky skin. “What do we say then, Cho?”

He’s letting out a throaty moan of your name, balls squeezing so fucking painfully at the heavenly below him. What he’s wanted for so long.

So pathetically needy the way he inches his aching cock closer, precum dripping down your tongue, sliding all the way down your throat. Drip! Drip! Drip! So sweet and addictive - but still not giving into what he wanted so badly. “S-sorry-” 

“Louder.” 

“M’sorry- hngh- baby.”

“Then cum, f’me, Cho. All over m’face.”

And with that, Choso’s painting your pretty face white with him cum. Untouched. At the mere sight of you on your knees. So fucking messy with the way he was pumping out thick, hot cum. Rope after rope on your tongue - so hard and violent as if he hadn’t spent the last hour cumming all over his fist. 

Because shit nothing was better than seeing you suck him dry, swallowing every drop like you couldn’t get enough. Especially when you’re letting his seed drip all the way down your chin, looking up at him with delirious, cockdrunk eyes as you spit on his length. Once. Twice.

Palms smearing the saliva and cum along his throbbing length. Making him feel so fucking dirty as you give his pretty pink tip a chaste kiss. Swirling your tongue under the slit just the way he’d done before. 

Letting out a muffled little, “Started without me n’ I think you gotta pay the price, hm?”

Yeah, it’ll never be enough with you.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy girl

“Out.”

At first, everyone froze. 

It wasn’t unusual for the king of curses to rasp out a command, let alone tell everyone in his throne room to leave. But it was the way he said it - like he’d fucking snap anyone’s neck if they didn’t. And only one look at you - standing doe-eyed and uncertain at the doorway, thighs quivering ever-so-slightly - had everyone running out the room before Sukuna decided to wipe them out. Or worse. 

“Kuna…” you huff, shuffling to sit so prettily on his lap once you two were left alone. Nuzzling the crook of his neck, “Missed you.”

Ah, he loved you like this. 

You feel Sukuna’s muscled chest rumble with a laugh, pushing you to rest against his pecs as large hands come to rest on your ass. Squeezing and kneading with no care for any marks. “Is that all, brat?” He hums lazily, rocking your hips lazily right where his twitching cock was. “Cuz I can feel how wet that lil’ pussy is n’ I think she has something to tell me.”

And it was true - God, you were so needy and dripping all over Sukuna’s lap. Grinding your hips deliriously to meet his, not even realizing those broken little whimpers leaving your mouth. Shit, you were so far gone. And he knew that. 

“I-” you choke, feeling Sukuna’s cock swelling and hardening beneath your throbbing pussy. “...might’ve snuck into the kitchens. Uraume gave me some chocolate and I’ve been feeling so weird ever since.”

Oh, you were so cute. Big fat tears clinging to your lashes while you humped him like a bitch in heat - Sukuna just can’t stop himself from pulling aside your drenched panties. In awe at the way the flimsy fabric barely did anything to hide your pretty cunt, sticky and glistening so sloppily.

“That explains it.” 

Rip! 

And it’s all that’s said before Sukuna is just tearing your poor panties off, looping it around your neck to pull you closer with it. 

Losing his patience with each pathetic little whine spilling from your lips, the way he could feel your pulse around. So delicate and urgent. The way just one tight pull could have you gasping breathlessly.

“My pretty baby was needy, huh?” he chuckles, breath hot against your skin. Letting out a cruel laugh as he thumbs your swollen folds open, circling ÿour sopping hole, “Tell me.” Biting down your neck, “What do you want to do about it, brat?”

You bat your lashes up at him, fabric tightening around your neck. “Wan’ your cock, Kuna.”

Sukuna didn’t have to be asked twice - because what his cute lil’ human wants, she’ll get. And before you can even react, he’s shifting around his robe just enough for his cock to spring free. Already soaked with precum - or maybe that was your slick.

And shit it doesn’t take him even a second to stuff your tight cunt so full. Have you keening at the sheer stretch as he fucks you in shallow, mindless little grinds to squeeze himself inside your plushy walls. Desperate. 

Because Sukuna was big, so big that you never got used to that no matter how many times he played with your pretty pussy. Used to a few tears, a few lil’ whines of “S’too big, Kuna!”.

But, now, you were sucking him up so well. Milking his thick cock so well with no preparation, head thrown back and fucking yourself in mindless little bounces to meet his. Like the perfect little slut that Sukuna knew you were. 

Sukuna’s mouth drops into a soft little oh! at how quick he bottoms out - the fastest he ever has. You were taking him so good into your sloppy pussy. 

Shit, did you even know what you were doing? 

“F-fuck, maybe you should have those chocolates more often, huh?” Sukuna mutters with a strange sort of reverence. 

Of course, the only response he gets is an incoherent little babble of something - something that went straight to his heavy balls. Too busy with fucking yourself onto his thick cock, already buried so deep inside you, but still pushing relentlessly.

Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs. So good but still not enough - still trying to take him deeper. Faster. Needing this more and more by the second. 

“C’mon now.” he muses, fucking his hips to meet your filthy cadence, grip tightening around your panties, a signal to answer. And you gasp - both for air and because you feel like you’re literally burning from the inside. 

“Ah- fuck fuck fuck I- wan’” Nails raking down his shoulder, messily kissing his lips. A desperate attempt to try and tell him what you really want - and he understands. Of course, he does. “Please.”

Which is probably why Sukuna’s laughing at your pathetic state. Too cockdrunk to speak, huh? Spreading your thighs even farther, so much so that it burned. Hands so bruisingly tight on your hips.  “Ya did well, brat.” he grins, “Now, let me be the one to take care of you.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Won’t get out alive

“Sweetheart, fuck fuck fuck, please- M’gonna-” Gojo doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before he’s spilling all over you hand. Milking his aching cock as he keeps cumming and cumming so much that you wondered whether he’s okay - whether he’d make it out alive, even. 

“This is all because of your own stupidity.” you grumble, but still letting him fuck your first through his high - for the nth time today. Hands much smaller and softer than his - shit, was he glad he teleported to your apartment in the middle of class for this. 

And as Gojo blinks back his vision, heaving to regain his breath, his orgasm-addled brain finds it in himself to mutter out a pouty little, “S’not my fault.”

You’re so irritated by him and his stupidity that you pay no mind to the way he’s playing with the hem of your panties, fingers sliding so sneakily underneath. Huffing out a sulky, “I’m serious, Toru. If the elders find out then-”

“Then they can suck my dick.” your boyfriend cuts you off oh-so eloquently. Much more interested in just how sinfully drenched your panties were, all messy and sticking to your swollen folds. “But I’d rather this pretty pussy take care of me before that.”

That’s all that is said before Gojo’s immediately pressing his angry, leaking tip into your sloppy pussy, groaning when you clamp down on him so deliciously. God, he was so sensitive he could cum from just this. Hell, maybe he does, a creamy little ring of white forming at the base as he keeps pushing in. Inch by fucking inch.

And he doesn’t stop - can’t stop - until you’re all the way flush against those tufts of white at his toned pelvis. 

Gasping breathlessly at the hands all on your hips - your sensitive clit - your face - just everywhere because Gojo just can’t get enough of you. Especially when he’s so needy and desperate like this.

“Who let himself hah- g-get hit with a fucking aphrodisiac technique? On purpose?”

Your tone makes him flinch - and for his swollen cock to start twitching so dangerously exhaustedly inside you. So addictively that Gojo can’t even wait too long for you to adjust. Starting up quick, jagged thrusts into your snug pussy. Grinning quietly, “Whoopsies.”

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck. Y-you deserve to suffer the consequences alone, you dumbass.” you scold, tightening your legs around him. And you can do nothing but buck up deliriously as he speeds up his pace - thumbing your swollen clit, like a little apology.

“I know.” he hums into your skin, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of you he could reach. Gasping at the sheer overstimulation. It hurt so good. “Don’ deserve you.”

“That’s not what I-”

Gojo shuts you up with one, harsh thrust. One that knocks all the air out of your lungs and has you worrying whether he’s pushing his massive cock into your organs. You can only take it as his heavy balls smack your ass harder, throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls over and over and-

“Don’t deserve this heavenly pussy-” getting sloppier now, no rhyme or rhythm. Licking long, languid stripes up your neck. “Don’t deserve those cute lil’ moans, either. Or the way you put up with me.” 

Fingers getting frenzied on your clit now - the way they did when he was getting close. Moving in sloppy little patterns that were so eager to get you off. 

Broken little profanities leaving him every time his hips stutter inside of you. Too much to handle at this point that Gojo thinks he might just explode. 

And then finally, he’s pulling away. So fucking sensitive and overstimulated that tears cling to his long lashes, delicately flushed all the way from the tips of his ears down, down, down to where you couldn’t see. Lips so pretty and pink as they say, “But don’t you think for a second that m’gonna let you go, sweetheart.”

“Cum f’me, Toru.”

And Gojo’s so far-gone that he doesn’t realize when he is - pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your poor pussy with a strangled groan of what sounds like your name. 

Filling you up to the brim like he’d just been waiting for permission. Too proud, too fucking embarrassed to show off this vulnerable little side of himself that was gasping and clawing breathlessly at you. Eyes screwing shut, head thrown back, holding on for some semblance of sanity as he cums harder than he has his entire life.

Babbling out barely-lucid moans of how he’s gonna “get payback for making him cum early” and “make you cum double next time”. 

Promises he well and fully intended to fulfill - if the way his cock was still twitching so ferally inside you was anything to go by. Hips fucking up deliriously - strained, like it hurt but he just had to. Like he couldn’t just not fuck your pretty lil’ pussy. Desperately starting up a pace that made you wonder - yeah, he was going to be the death of you.

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[fangirl-dot-com]

☀️Sons, Sons, and More Sons

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader Genre: Fluff/SMAU Summary: Ollie, Leo, Liam, who's next Oscar? Oh.

inspired by @pucksandpower 😊

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

“CHARLES!”

The said Monegasque, who had been “innocently” snuggling his four-legged son, winced at the force and volume of your voice. 

He was currently going through everything that might have upset you in the past 20 minutes from when he got home to you just now getting out of the shower. Did he leave the toilet seat up again? Or did he forget to sort the laundry? Or maybe he didn’t clean up Leo’s toys from the bedroom? 

“Why is my Twitter blowing up?” 

Oh. That’s why. 

He whispered to Leo, “I’m in for it now.” 

And then in a louder voice he yelled, “Yes mon amour?” 

You rounded the corner of the hallway and stopped in the opening to the living room, crossing your arms. “Care to tell me why I’m getting tagged in almost every Twitter post about you adopting Oscar?” 

You wanted to break at the puppy eyes that your boyfriend was currently giving you, but you needed to stay strong. You needed to show that a man could not sway your feelings. Too bad that man was Charles Leclerc, the one that men and women alike fell to worship the ground beneath his feet. 

You couldn’t break. 

Charles brought his hand up to ruffle his hair, something he did to express some nervousness. 

“Cheri, it was just a joke. Oscar somehow finds heritage in a lot of countries. He just wanted to keep the joke going.” 

“So you decided to ‘adopt’ him so he can have another home race?” 

“Maybe?” 

“Don’t you already have enough sons anyway? I think four is too many or our house is going to overflow on family night.” 

Charles’s eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Four?” 

Now it was your turn to smirk. “Yes, four. Or are you too busy having fun with Leo to be a present father to your other two?” 

Charles tried to wrack his brain about who could be the other two. 

“Ollie?” 

“Bingo.” 

He leaned back into the couch, hands still gently petting Leo who had decided to fall asleep in the middle of his parent’s squabbles. The golden puppy was content on his dad’s warm chest, the rise and fall rocking him to sleep. 

The Ferrari driver sighed. “I don’t even know.” 

You waved your phone at him. “Twitter might be able to help you. I need to get dressed since I was rudely interrupted. I hope you find out before they get here for dinner.” 

Charles shot up making Leo yelp away from his nap. Now that he was really looking at you, he realized that you were just in a towel. A blush formed on his face, still having those boyish thoughts that he believed he was better than that. 

You walked over and bent down, face getting closer to his. 

Ah. You were going to forgive him and all would be right in the world once your lips met his. You wanted to laugh as you saw his eyes flutter shut, lips slightly puckering. 

Charles was wondering what was taking you so long when your finger touched his lips. His eyes shot open and he definitely did not whimper. You looked down at your fur-baby and gently picked him up, bringing Leo to your chest. 

“Twitter. Figure it out Leclerc.” 

Now a bit sullen, he watched you walk away. 

“Je t’aime!” 

He was responded to with a middle finger and the bedroom door slamming. A chuckle made its way from his chest as he brought his phone out. If there was one thing that you two did well, it was dramatics. 

Twitter was immediately opened once he got his phone out. He scrolled through all the tags before giving up and opening your profile. He winced at the sight of the white background, cursing his phone for updating and not keeping the dark profile. 

However, he couldn’t contain his laugh as he saw your new updated tweet. He leaned his head back, still giggling to himself. 

Charles knew that you two wanted kids at some point. But between his Formula 1 career and your business on the uprise, children really wouldn’t work well now. But deep down, he liked the idea of having a few grid kids. 

He took a minute to stop giggling before he continued his search. His eyes widened as he stopped on one of the family trees that some fan made. 

There was Leo, adopted by you and him. 

Then Ollie, who fans say that Charles conceived himself somehow. 

Oscar was newer, but still had the adopted dotted line. 

And then . . . 

Ooohhhhhhh, so that’s who he was missing. 

You took that moment to come out of the bedroom, hair now dry and fluffy from your Dyson. Leo was still in your arms, looking more awake than he had when he was with Charles. You sat down next to him, Charles taking the opportunity to put an arm around you, bringing you in closer. 

“You smell good amour.” 

You turned and smiled, leaning in to finally give him a kiss after a long day. 

“Thank you. It’s the lotion that you bought me.” 

He let out a low hum and just kept you in his arms. Leo was squirming a bit before he finally flopped over and settled in between your two bodies. 

“I figured out who our other son is.” 

Your head now rested in the crook of his neck. “Did you now.” 

“Yes. I am a stepfather to Liam?” 

Your shoulders shook with giggles. “Not the stepfather, but the father who stepped up.” 

“You spend way too much on Twitter.” 

You looked up at him, and Charles turned to look down at you. You leaned in closer to rub your noses together, giving him eskimo kisses. The Ferrari driver just closed his eyes and basked in the moment between you. 

There weren’t many times that he got something like this. So quiet and peaceful. His world was filled with so much noise. But here, he could melt into the quiet. 

“We should have dinner here with the boys after the Grand Prix on Sunday.” 

“That sounds nice. I can make the food.” 

You sat up slightly, elbow bent on the back of the couch and head resting on your hand. 

“You want to show off your cooking skills to your sons to prove that you can cook.”

Charles huffed. “I am the provider chéri.” 

You cocked your head at the Monegasque. “Whose name is on the lease mon bebe?” 

A huff was the answer, which made you cuddle Charles closer still being aware of the little baby between you. A small nip to your fingertip made you pick Leo up, now holding him close to your face. 

“Were you getting a bit jealous of papa ma petit amour?” you asked the blonde dachshund in a baby voice. If Charles wasn’t already fully in love with you, his love would have been solidified in this moment. 

While watching, he suddenly remembered something. “Oscar wanted to meet Leo in McLaren hospitality this weekend.” 

You turned with a raised eyebrow. “Why not Ferrari?” 

“Eh.” 

It was as if you had a lightbulb moment. “Ohhhhhhh, right. That makes sense. I can stop by and let you know when I get there.” 

What you hadn’t expected was to pick up Liam and Ollie on your way to the now green outside of the McLaren hospitality. Leo was still curled up in your arms, eyes blinking every so often. You knew that if it wasn’t so busy, the little puppy would be sound asleep. 

“He’s so cute,” Oscar said, walking forward and hands outstretched. You gently gave him over to the “older brother” of the three. 

Ollie laughed. “I know right. He’s so cuddly.” 

Liam joined in, “I don’t think I put him down the entire time I got to meet him.” 

Oscar stared at you three for a moment. “Yeah, you aren’t getting him back.” 

You shook your head. “Speak to your father first, Oscar.” 

Chuckles erupted from all around, making you laugh as well. You took your phone out and took a quick picture of Oscar holding Leo to post later. 

“Is dad on his way?” Ollie asked after sipping on his water bottle. 

You rolled your eyes. “Should be. Ah, there he is.” 

Charles stepped foot into the room and immediately found you surrounded by his “kids.” His heart may have melted seeing Leo flopped in Oscar’s arms. He gave you a kiss on your cheeks before he greeted the three. 

“This is hilarious,” he said, making everyone laugh yet again. 

You rested a hand on your forehead. “We’re just missing Liam’s dad, and then we’ll be one big happy family.” 

The Kiwi crossed his arms, but a giant smile was on his face. “So much for having a present father in my life. I’m jealous.” 

Charles gripped your waist and puffed his chest. “I’m not the stepfather, but the father that stepped up.” 

“Charles, no you aren’t. Can’t even handle three kids.” 

You and Charles turned around to see Max now stepping through the door. The Monegasque raised his eyebrow. 

“And you can?” 

You raised a hand. “That’s my que to leave. I will not be in the middle of a Lestappen-father showdown. Boys, you can follow me.” 

“Yes mum.”

“Lead the way.” 

“Can I still keep Leo?” 

Charles and Max gawked as the three older boys followed you like ducks in a row. After he got over the shock, the Ferrari driver was left with a love-sick smile on his face. 

“Yeah. I’m marrying her.” 

“Gross.” 

“Max. Shut up.” 

y/n_l/n has posted

liked by y/nismother, charles_leclerc, liamlawson, and 1,304,295 others y/n_l/n look at my sons . . . pride is not the word I'm looking for

see all comments

y/nismother the mother is mothering

charliexy/n honestly, they all take after him so much. I need to go to twitter

olliebearman then what is the word you're looking for mom 🤨

liamlawson30 I knew she wasn't proud of us

oscarpiastri this is why dad is better

y/n_l/n I'm taking away all of your sims and ps5's

olliebearman I take it back, mom is the best

oscarpiastri81 this is the best thing to happen this weekend

charles_leclerc my family 🫶

maxverstappen1 you stole my son from me.

liamlawson30 they had free ice cream 🤷

y/n_l/n 😊

maxverstappen1 I'm taking pole then

charles_leclerc ☹️

lestappenlove I love the entire family your honor

leclerc16charles does Leo need another sibling? cause I can bark

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[ann1-wr1tes]

Save a Horse, ride a Cowboy

Synopsis: You make the mistake of placing Leon's cowboy hat on your head and you have no idea what the "Cowboy rule" is...

Warnings: Smut, Adult themes, filth

Word Count: 2,692

A/N: Cowboy. Leon. Two of my most favorite things.

-----

Your eyes dart around the entire space around you as your ears are drowned out by cheers and screams for the person who was currently riding a bull. Your friends thought it would be fun to go see a rodeo and so far it had been fun.

You got to see tons of people getting hurled off bulls which was entertaining in itself but you also couldn't help but agree with your friends when they all started to gush over how "hot" some of the cowboys were. Everywhere you looked you saw bandannas, flannels, cowboy hats, and flared jeans. You felt a little bit underdressed wearing your usual jeans and t-shirt but it was still fun getting to see all the hot cowboys and Southern charm.

As your friends ranted about this one man they saw who was about to ride a bull, you found your eyes stuck on someone else. Your eyes were glued to this one cowboy who was busy trying to calm the bull down enough to get the rider on top.

You couldn't see fully from where you were sitting but you could see the man's pretty blonde locks sticking out from underneath his cowboy hot and his crystal blue eyes that narrowed in concentration as he coaxed the bull into temporary peace. You didn't want to admit that you were drooling over him but you knew your friends would tease you if they saw how much you were staring at this guy.

Soon the rider is situated on the bull and a gunshot rings through the air. The gate that leads to the field is kicked open and within a second the bull is running out and thrashing wildly with the rider on top. You can audibly hear all the "ooohs" and "ahhs" as the rider holds on. Your friends are all squealing and cheering themselves as the man almost gets thrown off.

Then with another flail, the rider is thrown off the bull and ends up painfully tumbling onto the ground. As soon as that happens there are people going onto the field to scrape up the rider from the floor as others go to subdue the bull.

You can't help but cheer and holler as well as a smile comes to your face. What a show.

---

After the rodeo was over you wanted to conclude the evening by venturing to a nearby bar. It seemed like a lot of the people from the rodeo came as well as you noticed that once again you were surrounded by Southern accents and cowboy hats.

Your little group made their way to the bar and started to hover around it as the bartender asked everyone what they were getting. As soon as the orders are taken you are about to pay but as soon as you are about to give some cash to the bartender you are interrupted by a thick southern drawl.

"Drinks are on me, darlin'."

Your head turns and you are met with the same face you were admiring earlier. The fluffy blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and oh…you could see him much better now and god did the man look heavenly in the candlelight that emitted from the bar.

You could now make out the stunning facial features of the man and you could feel your heart speed up tenfold when your eyes grazed over his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. The way the cowboy hat sat on his head made something buzz inside you.

You are broken out of your thoughts when you hear your friends snicker from behind you. The man even seems to notice your sudden shock as a subtle smirk comes to his face.

"You don't need to do that." you smile nervously as the man's eyes rake over you. You think you might have gotten lost in those eyes. "But thank you anyway."

"No need to thank me, sweetheart. Something as pretty as you should have all the men 'round here buyin' your drinks." He winked at you making your cheeks heat up. Your friends snickered again but you ignore them with a small roll of your eyes.

"The name is Leon by the way, Leon Kennedy." he introduces while holding out his hand. You take it and introduce yourself in return and you're immediately caught off guard when Leon goes to press a kiss against your knuckle.

You were so relieved when you finally got your drinks. You thought you were about to combust just by being around Leon. Leon on the other hand was relishing in your flustered looks and shy behavior, in fact, he thought you were the cutest thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

Though soon your shy, flustered behavior was pushed back by liquid courage. It was sped up by how quickly you were drinking your beers but soon you didn't even notice how you were practically leaning into Leon, muttering things about the rodeo and how hard it seems to ride bulls.

"I mean…I thought the guy was gonna be dead…how he got flung off that thing.." you murmured to yourself with a silly grin as you looked up at Leon.

"Well ridin' is all in the hips sugar~" Leon hummed while leaning back on his elbows. Your stomach fluttered at the suggestive tone and you took another sip of your beer to try and quell your nerves. In an attempt to change the subject, your eyes dart to his hat and a smirk starts to pull at your lips.

"Y'know you look great in that hat…" you compliment as you eye it. Leon chuckles and gives you a smile that has you wondering why it makes your heartbeat pick up.

"Is that so?" he asks. You nod but there's a glint of playfulness in your eyes as you look at the cowboy hat.

"I think it'd look better on me though~" your hands reach out and pluck the hat right off of Leon's head and you place it on yours. You adjust it and tilt it just right on your head like it was on Leon's and then you look at him with a wide grin.

"Well, how does it look?" You ask. Leon seems frozen for a moment as his mind starts to comprehend what you just did. You notice the sudden hesitance for a moment and you almost think that you did something wrong but a smirk soon returns to Leon's face and there's an amused look as he flicks the brim of the hat up.

"It suits you well sugar, but do you know what happens when you put on another cowboy hat?" he asks.

Suddenly you're hit with confusion and it reads all over your face as Leon chuckles. Even the bartender seems to laugh a little and he quickly turns around and starts to clean out glasses when you look at him.

"No…?"

"Well, we have a rule called the Cowboy Rule. If you wear the cowboys hat, then you have to ride the cowboy." Leon explains calmly before taking a swig of his drink. You blink in surprise and you can feel the blush start to creep onto your face. You look down at your drink to hide it.

"Oh," is all you manage to croak out. Your throat suddenly feels incredibly dry. You feel a hand hook under your chin you meet Leon's piercing gaze. His eyes are filled with amusement and it sends shivers down your spine.

"If I do then can I keep the hat?" you cheekily ask. The corners of Leon's mouth tug up and it causes your insides to flip. Your heart begins to beat quicker.

"Wanna find out?" Leon says as he leans forward until his lips are barely inches away from yours. It takes everything in you to not close the space between you two. Instead, you nod your head frantically hoping that he understands your silent request for more.

---

Hungry hands rake across your body as your own hands run down Leons. The feeling of his skin against yours makes every single nerve in your body burn as you slowly unbutton his shirt and he reaches for yours as well. Your bodies collide together like magnets practically, there's such a strange pull that seems to be between you two as your mouths clash together.

Leon's teeth nip at your lower lip and you moan softly as he slides his tongue past your lips and deepens the kiss. In return you rake your hands through his blonde strands, tugging lightly when Leon's hand trails along your sides, going down to rest on your hips.

The cowboy hat still sits on your head as you lean back, breaking the kiss to sit back on your haunches. The sight in front of you was heavenly. Leon was laid back, his legs slightly parted, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and exposing his chest, then of course there was the glassy, lustful look in his blue eyes as his swollen lips were slightly parted.

The entire image made your cunt flutter with need.

You take off the hat for a moment and place it back on Leon's as you yank your shirt up and off your body and then your hands work to unbutton the rest of his buttons on his shirt. As soon you are done, Leon slips his shirt off and yanks you back on top of him by your hips.

In that action, your hips accidentally roll against his causing you both to have a moment of pleasure from the friction.

"Fuck darlin'…need to feel more of you.." Leon huskily utters as his hands tighten around your hips a little more.

With a hum of agreement your rest your hands on his chest and go to straddle his lap a bit better so that your heated core is pressed right up against his erection that is straining through his jeans. Teasingly, you roll your hips again and you both let out a long moan.

"Shit…stop teasin' me," Leon mumbles, his voice rasping and rough as it sends shivers down your spine. You giggle breathlessly, pressing your hips harder against the bulge in his jeans, grinding a little more.

"Why would I stop? I wanna see how many pretty noises I can get out of you cowboy." you coo.

Leon growls in response as he roughly pulls you back towards him, slamming a searing kiss to your mouth. This time he moves his free hand down and it slips down your jeans, finding your clothed clit and he rubs small circles against it. Your hips buck in response and you let out loud moans against Leon's lips.

"That's it baby…let me hear you." He grunts.

It's practically music to your ears as you rock your hips against his fingers as he continues to rub your clit and you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Leon suddenly pulls his fingers away and you whine. You're left with nothing but the ache between your legs.

In desperation, your hands fly down to Leon's belt buckle and you start to undo his belt as quickly as you could.

"Easy there honey, I'm not goin' anywhere." Leon chuckles. He replaces your hands with his and soon he's tugging his pants down along with his black boxers to reveal his hardened cock. Its springs to life and slaps against his stomach.

You groan at the sight of it. It's big and thick and you almost want to take him in your mouth until his hands are already working on your own jeans.

He unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down your thighs. You kick them the rest of the way off and reposition yourself on top of Leon. Right as you are about to sink down onto Leon's length he interrupts you.

"I think you're forgettin' something.." Leon takes his cowboy hat off and puts it back on top of your head, tilting it just right.

"Beautiful." Leon breathes in a low tone.

"I think it looks better on you." You smile as Leon's hand grazes over your cheek and tucks a stray hair away from your face.

"That's nonsense, it looks stunnin' on you." He smirks and his thumb drags up and down your jawline, gently rubbing your cheek. The butterflies in your stomach flutter even more as he leans in closer to you, your noses brushing against one another.

You rub your slick folds back and forth on Leon's tip and slowly sink down onto his length, letting out moans at the stretch.

"L-Leon… it..so much" You pant between clenched teeth, gripping onto his broad shoulders.

"It's okay sweetheart, let me help.." he coos. The hands on your hips slowly start to help you roll into his, making sure to go slow and his grasp was decently gentle as he helps you build up a good pace.

"It's all in the hips sugar…." Leon whispers in your ear, sending tingles down your spine.

Soon on your own accord, you start to ride him faster. It catches Leon off guard as waves of hot, blinding pleasure course through his veins. He throws his head back with an audible moan as you bounce up and down on his cock.

"Good girl, keep rollin' your hips like that.." Leon praises, his voice rumbling low in his chest.

You nod and do as you are told, your body starting to twitch against Leon, your hands clenching onto his forearms tighter as he starts thrusting upwards, trying his best to push himself inside of you and meet your steady rhythm.

A whimper escapes your mouth as Leon sits up, connecting his lips to your neck. One of his hands trails up your back and plants itself on the nape of your neck as his lips suck and kiss your sensitive skin.

Your mind is spinning, your heart beats furiously. There are no words that can describe how amazing it all feels. Especially as the euphoria grows and the knot in your belly tightens. Leon, in his own desperation to chase his oncoming high, continues to buck his hips up into yours wildly from below.

His head has fallen back against the pillow as he feels your cunt tighten around him.

"Jesus…you feel so good darlin'." Leon groans in appreciation. You don't say anything, only moaning loudly and moving your hips with more vigor. The sounds from your mouth cause Leon to shudder as he watches you move against him. The sound of his name falling out of your mouth is driving him crazy and you look so damn pretty in his cowboy hat.

After a few more moments of bliss, you finally come undone releasing all of the fluids onto Leon's cock as your eyes roll back into your head and you slump down on top of Leon. Leon helps you along by moving his hand down to toy with your clit as you shudder from the waves of your orgasm.

"Look at you, you pretty little thing. So beautiful.." he grunts.

His hand comes up to the back of your neck as he holds you to his chest while burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

Your breathing is heavy and you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, feeling warm all over your body after your climax. Leon sighs as he starts to rub small circles into your back.

"Damn sweetheart, you may just be the death of me." he coos. A soft smile forms on your lips. Your head rests firmly on his chest, and you peer up at him.

"Does that mean I can keep the hat?" You ask with a sheepish smile.

Leon chuckles and rests a hand on your hat-covered head.

"Yeah, I 'spose so. It suits you."

[always-just-red]

I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you’ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.  

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

[babyleostuff]

spreadsheet

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: (architect)student!mingyu x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 980

SYNOPSIS: if there's one thing mingyu finds incredibly sexy, it's intelligence

“i give up.” 

that was honestly the last thing you’d ever expect to hear from your boyfriend. kim mingyu never gave up, and even if - it wasn’t everyday that his ego allowed him to admit to failure.

confused, you looked up from your computer to see what finally managed to defeat him, just to be met with a very pouty, and a very annoyed boyfriend looking at the screen of his own computer, like he had some personal vendetta against it. 

you quickly covered your mouth with your hand to hide the smile forming on your face. you didn’t need mingyu to think you were making fun of him. “weren’t you supposed to work on your exam project?” you asked, doing your best not to burst out laughing. there was just something about that hunk of a six foot two man with killer biceps who was sitting opposite you, and pouting like a five year old that made you cackle. 

“yes, but i have to use a spreadsheet or whatever to sort out some of the information, and,” he sighed, “i have no idea how to use it.” 

with a loud bang, mingyu’s forehead met the table, which would definitely leave a small bump he’d make you kiss better later. huh, so he really gave up. 

“i don’t think i understand,” you crooked your head at him, pushing yours and his computers away, so you could lean over and place your hand at the nape of his neck. “kim mingyu, one of the best future architects, doesn't know how to use a spreadsheet?” your boyfriend was smart smart, there was no way he didn’t know a couple of formulas to sort out the data.

mingyu groaned loudly, and shook your hand off his neck. “don’t make fun of me baby,” with a whine, he lifted up his head, revealing big shiny puppy eyes, which were practically begging for your help. “as you said, i’m an architect, not a computer science guy!” he exclaimed, his lips turning more and more pouty with each word. 

for a person that loved to make fun of coups and his pout, it didn’t seem like mingyu realised how big of a pouty baby he was himself. 

“i don’t think you need to study computer science to know how to use a spreadsheet, gyu,” you said, and ran your thumb over his jutted out lip. “besides, you study maths and physics, shouldn’t you know how to use this kind of stuff?” 

“if this is your way of making me feel better it’s not working,” mingyu huffed, grabbing your hand in his. “and i really need to figure this out, but i have no idea how. i tried watching tutorials, but i still don’t get it. like, the more i try to understand it the less sense it actually makes,” his breath ghosted your knuckles, as his lips moved against your fingers.  “please tell me you’re an undercover tech guru, so you can do this for me. ” 

you gave mingyu’s hand a little squeeze, and took his computer with your free hand, sliding it over to your side of the table. 

“what are you doing?” he asked, confusion lacing his voice. 

you shook your head in amusement, and squeezed his hand once again, as you transferred all of the necessary data into a new, empty spreadsheet. “i may not be a tech guru as you called it, but it’s a good thing you have a super smart girlfriend,” you murmured, focused on the screen, “that knows the basics of how to use a spreadsheet.” 

you didn't have to look at mingyu to know that his eyes were wide and his mouth open in bewilderment - but it wasn't your fault - it's not like you ever had the opportunity to show off your skills before. besides, mingyu was so in love with you and he was so down bad that you didn't have to do anything special to make him look at you like you just invented a new element.

“it’s really not that hard, you just have to,” the quiet noise of you typing filled your living room for a moment, “you have to know which formals to use.” 

mingyu couldn’t tear his eyes off you. how in the world did he manage to bag a girl that was not only insanely beautiful, but also smart as hell? though he couldn’t see what exactly you were doing (not that he cared about that, he wouldn’t understand any of it anyway), mingyu was sure you were doing magic with those damn spreadsheets. 

“here,” you said with a proud smile a short while later, “is this what you were meant to do?” you turned the computer around for him to see the, yes - perfectly sorted data, just like his professor wanted them to be. 

“you are so fucking hot.” 

mingyu couldn’t help himself. he loved acting like he was the smartest in the room, but holy shit - his girlfriend was a genius, and he’d act all dumb just to have her fill out his spreadsheets. 

“you are literally the most amazing thing ever, baby,” mingyu breathed, still looking at you with disbelief. “so so smart, and so so mine.” 

you snickered, and threw a rolled up napkin at him. “calm down, gyu. that was nothing, seriously.” 

“nothing?!” he exclaimed, offended. “nothing, you say? so why was i struggling with it for the past hours?” 

“if you paid more attention in class i’m sure you’d manage perfectly on your own,” you said, suddenly shy under his stare. the lovesick look was truly overwhelming. “now, will i get something in return?” 

mingyu's expression suddenly seemed to change from pure surprise and admiration to something that pretty much resembled smugness. “what do you have in mind, princess?” he asked, crooking his head at you. 

you smiled and pointed your finger at your lips.

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