#me being lazy compilation

[zuiz41]

Oblivously oblivious

[melit0n]

Sat in class and watching with horror as almost everybody in the rows in front of me pulls out Chatgpt to answer an exam question

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Tim Encounters a Fae at a Gala

Which may be a problem, yes, but the much more alarming part? The Fae looks like Damian.

"This is pretty boring, don't you think?"

The voice comes from behind, and Tim recognizes it instantly, but at the same time, he doesn't. He's never heard Damian talk like this, easy and a little amused, with no usual stiffness to his speech. Yet this couldn't be anyone else - being a vigilante means you can never drop your guard even in your civilian identity, and who other than Damian could have sneaked up on him?

He turns around.

It is Damian, and at the same time, it's not. The boy looks just like the demon child, the same face, same height and skin tone, the same way he puts his hair. But something is wrong. The way he holds himself, his relaxed and almost lazy posture, the absence of a usual scowl on his face, the way he feels comfortable here, in a crowd of people.

And his eyes, when he looks at Tim. Icy blue, almost translucent, like the color of icebergs and glaciers.

The not-Damian tilts his head a little and smiles just slightly. Tim blinks, realizing that there was a question, and he just stares at the boy instead of answering.

"Yeah, sure," he clears his throat and breaks the eye contact, looking away from not-Damian's eyes, his thoughts a frantic mess. Is this another clone? Or some kind of a shapeshifter? In any case, they approached Tim first, he can't lose his chance at gaining some information. So Tim smiles back, "Is it your first time? At the gala, I mean."

Now, when he looks at the boy again, the stricking resemblance doesn't hit him so hard. Instead, Tim notices something else - the boy is... eerily beautiful. He's never noticed Damian looking this nice - because that would be kind of creepy if he did, - but this not-Damian is... He can't really put it into words.

He's just beautiful.

Almost unnaturally so.

"You could say that," not-Damian answers, looking over the crowd around them, "I'm not used to so many people around, but I've seen my fair share of social gatherings."

Tim blinks. That statement compiled with his absolute lack of any kind of nervousness makes little sense.

Alright, he needs to get at least some information from the mystery twin. He is a detective, for god's sake.

"Are you here with someone?" That can be a useful question. Tim sure as hell knows that Bruce could not invite some Damian lookalike without prior warning, which means the boy had to come as someone's plus one. Or he sneaked in with no invitation, that's also a possibility.

"My godfather should be here somewhere," not-Damian nods, scanning the crowd before nodding his chin in the direction of a small cluster of people. Tim follows his gaze and finds a white-haired man in a matching white and silver suit in the middle of telling some kind of story.

"Vladimir Masters?" He questions with a noticeable amount of disbelief. The man never said a word about having a godson. Ever. And Tim did a thorough background check on the owner of DalvCo.

"Got it in one," not-Damian grins. Is it just Tim, or do his teeth really look sharper than they are supposed to?

Come to think of it, his ears are also not as round as they should be.

Unnatural beauty, sharp teeth and pointy ears, questions answered in a vague and unclear way. And Tim hadn't noticed him blink even once.

He has a guess. He doesn't like it, it's a very, very bad guess, but Tim is a Bat, a Robin, and a Detective. He knows when he needs to trust his gut even if his gut is telling him absolute nonsense.

He just needs to make sure.

Tim swallows the anxious feeling in the back of his throat and turns back to not-Damian, smiling:

"I think I didn't catch your name?" He does his best at sounding confused and not alarmed. The boy's grin widens just a bit, but Tim feels a cold shiver run down his back, and his mind is all but screaming for him to run away for this is not human, and whatever it is, it is dangerous.

"Would you give me yours in exchange?" The boy's voice is soft and easy, not a hint of mischief. Just a casual question. Maybe a little teasing.

Tim's blood runs cold as he tries to remember everything he has ever read and heard about the fair folk. Never give them your name, but there has to be a way to answer this question, right?

"You may call me Damian," he finally answers. Maybe this is a risk, calling himself his brother's name, but Tim feels like this is somehow a right thing to do since the boy - the creature - looks like him.

Not-Damian's eyebrows shoot up, and there's a hint of surprise in his eyes when he starts quietly laughing. The heavy pressure of the air around him disappears at the sound of the crystalline laughter, like it was never there. Tim feels like he had just disarmed a bomb or passed a test with his own life at stake. Maybe he actually did.

"Clever," the boy grins again and nods politely, bowing his head down like they are at a medieval ball and not a gala, "My name is Danny. It is nice to meet my brother's brother."

| <-prev | next-> |

[alygator77]

idk, i've been thinkin about long distance satoru :') just a little something i wrote while experiencing a bit of writers block. it's inspired on a military relationship but it can really be just any long distance!

warnings: nsfw, mdni 18+, smut and fluff

long-distance! satoru whose heart aches when you have to say goodbye, holding you closer just a little bit longer than usual as he tries to memorize every detail—the warmth of your body, the scent of your hair, the way your arms fit perfectly around him. he knows that the absence of your touch will leave him feeling empty again, a void only you can fill.

long-distance! satoru who texts you every morning and night, because you are the first and last thing on his mind.

long-distance! satoru who calls you late one night after a long mission. exhausted but unable to sleep, he finds comfort in the sound of your voice.

“mmm… ‘toru?” the innocent sound of your sleepy voice immediately melts him, his tension easing from your soothing whisper.

“heya sleepy head…you got a minute?”

you stay on the phone with him all night, talking about everything and nothing, until you fall asleep.

long-distance! satoru who listens to your soft, rhythmic breathing through the phone, and quietly confesses how much he misses you, how the sound of your voice and the warmth of your embrace are the only things that keep him grounded in a world that feels increasingly cold without you.

long-distance! satoru who loves when you send him a compilation of short videos to watch, just knowing that you thought of him, carefully selecting each clip to bring a smile to his face. he replays them over and over, allowing himself to feel closer to you, as if each clip is a tiny piece of you that he can hold onto.

long-distance! satoru who dreams of your future together, when the distance will no longer separate you. he envisions the day when he can finally hold you close and never let go. he dreams of lazy mornings spent tangled in the sheets with you, of quiet evenings where you can simply be together without the constant ache of longing. these dreams are what keep him going, a promise of a future where he can finally be by your side, where this long-distance heartache will be nothing but a memory.

long-distance! satoru whose breath hitches when you surprise him when a naughty photo while he’s working.

“fucking hell woman…what are you doing to me?”

long-distance! satoru whose cock strains against his uniform as he sits at his desk, the tantalizing image of you searing itself into his mind, leaving him desperate to touch himself, to feel some semblance of the closeness he craves.

long-distance! satoru who grips his weeping cock as he strokes himself in the privacy of his room, his thoughts consumed by you. the distance between you fades away in his fantasies, replaced by the heat of your body, the taste of your skin, the sound of your voice in his ear.

“fuck princess… I miss you so fucking much,” he whimpers nearing his edge, body trembling as hot spurts of cum paint him pretty, your name falling from his lips as he coats himself with the evidence of his need, his need to fuck you senseless.

long-distance! satoru who lies there afterward, breathless and spent, staring at the ceiling as the reality of your absence settles back in. there’s a bittersweet ache, because he knows it’s not enough—it’ll never be enough until he has you back in his arms, for real.

long-distance! satoru who surprises you with an unexpected visit, appearing at your doorstep after months of being apart. his duty bag slides off his shoulder in the doorframe and his arms open wide, inviting you for the embrace you’ve been yearning for.

“miss me, princess?” his boyish grin is blurred from the happy tears in your eyes, and you immediately throw yourself into his welcoming arms.

long-distance! satoru who wraps around you tightly, lifting you off your feet as he spins you around, laughter filling the air. the warmth of his body against yours is almost overwhelming, and you cling to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you inhale the familiar scent of him.

long-distance! satoru who doesn’t even make it past the doorway before his lips find yours, all teeth and tongue as he kicks the door shut with his foot. his hands roam your body with a hunger that borders on feral.

“let me make up for lost time,” he groans against your lips, a promise and a plea as he presses you against the nearest wall, hips grinding against yours, and you feel just how hard, how desperate, he has been for you.

long-distance! satoru who finally, after months of longing and aching, finds himself buried deep inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync as if no time has passed at all. the sound of your moans, the way you cling to him—it’s everything he’s been dreaming of, and more.

long-distance! satoru who pours everything he’s been holding back into this moment, into you. he groans your name, voice strained with the effort to hold on just a little longer, to make this last, because honestly, he could have cum moments after entering you—your cunt is just too fucking delicious.

long-distance! satoru who knows exactly how to bring you to your own edge, who’s learned your body, knows what makes you gasp, what makes you moan, what makes you arch against him in that delicious way that drives him to the brink.

“cum for me, princess” he commands. and when you do, when your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper, it’s his undoing.

long-distance! satoru who finally lets go with a shuddering gasp, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave.

“fuck, I love you,” he groans, hands gripping your hips as he buries his face in your neck, his needy moans muffled against your skin as he spills his seed inside you, body trembling with the explosive force of it.

long-distance! satoru, who holds you close afterward, your bodies tangled together as you come down from the high. he presses soft kisses to your temple, your shoulder, your lips, whispering sweet nothings as you both drift off to sleep, content in the knowledge that, at least for now, the distance is no more.

[wcters]

10 MINUTES OF ARTHUR AND Y/N BEING CUTE (AND SOMETIMES HORNY)

pairing: arthurtv x fem!reader

word count: 3k+

summary: a compilation of cute (and sometimes horny) moments between you and arthur

warnings/contents: swearing, sexual innuendos, mentions of sexual acts (let me know if there is more)

author’s note: this is based in the beginning of 2025 to fit with the timeline, i love arthurtv

You never expected to find a video like you did on a random Saturday. You were curled up on your couch in your shared apartment with Arthur, shorts and one of his hoodies on. He was out filming with Isaac, George, Chris, and the other Arthur so you were stuck being bored. You could've gone out, but you were feeling lazy and it was raining so it was one of those days where you felt off.

You were trying to find a video watch. You had been scrolling for what felt like forever (it was only ten minutes) because no video you saw had yet to peak your interest. Along with it being one of those days, it was also one of the days where you couldn't keep yourself entertained. You had ━━ so far ━━ had a bath and did your skincare, you did your makeup for fun . . . then took it off, you made yourself a full meal for lunch, you tried reading, but this was your last resort. You weren't expecting this video to end your scrolling.

10 minutes of ArthurTV and Y/n being cute was its title. The thumbnail was a collage of photos of you and Arthur taken from both your instagrams and some from videos. It was cute and you thought of taking a screenshot and sending it to Arthur, but you didn't because you didn't want to interrupt him (he can get lost scrolling in social situations) and that the lads would chew him out.

The video was only posted recently, which made sense. You only publicized your relationship half a year ago and started appearing in videos a couple months ago. Even then, ten minutes is a lot for you appearing online recently. A lot of the clips were probably from Chris's ChrisMD but shorter channel as he posted unseen footage and small clips on there. He had a habit of sneaking some filming in without you noticing, the little bastard. Either way, you respect the dedication of the person.

You cuddled into the couch a little more and clicked on the video, the intro being played. It was cute, from a channel who didn't have a lot of subscribers but had a cute editing style. You made a mental note to look at their profile either after this or sometime later.

The first clip was one of your first appearances online and in a video. You had travelled with Arthur, Isaac, and George to the Clarkson's Farm. Because Arthur was mostly filming everyone else, you hadn't been in the view of the camera at all. At least you didn't think you did. You didn't mind being filmed, you knew he was filming and was fine with it. You just kept to yourself so the boys could do their thing.

It was around thirteen minutes into the video when the boys were hanging out at the room, or house ━━ whatever you would call it ━━ you were staying in with Arthur. They had been hanging out on the couch watching the TV. Arthur had flipped the camera to show the water that had spilt on Isaac when you were seen in the background. You were dressed in some basketball shorts and one of your boyfriend's hoodies.

If people weren't regular watchers of Arthur they would knit notice, but you had on one of his favourite hoodies that he always wears, his plain blue hoodie. He wore it for a lot of videos and was featured in a lot of thumbnails. You were seen walking in and out of the bathroom before looking at the situation taking place and laughing. When your boyfriend turned the camera around to look outside, you were heard saying do you want a towel? to Isaac.

The clip was replayed a few times to make sure your voice was heard and then it was explained that you were wearing Arthur's clothes. It wasn't one of the really cute clips, but you found it cute that the person who made the video noticed it and put it in.

Another clip was from a more recent video, the Europe pub golf video on Chris's channel. You had been invited to Germany with Arthur and you gladly agreed. You knew the main thing they were going there to do was film a video but you wouldn't pass up a free trip to Munich.

You had joined them for the day even though you were told by Arthur and Chris that you didn't have to. You wanted to drink some alcohol in a slower pace than they did, watch them get absolutely wasted and embarrass themselves, and walk around the city . . . Arthur also got very clingy when he was drunk and it would be easier to get him to film if you were there.

The clip was of you and Arthur in the background while they were making their way to another pub. You were seen holding hands, your faces very close. You were probably whispering about something or other. Arthur was animatedly talking with his free hand doing gestures. Watching the clip, you don't quite remember what he was talking about. He was already tipsy and was rambling about something that you didn't understand. You tried to listen, but it was hard when you didn't know what he was talking about. Cons of having an incredibly smart boyfriend.

After that was another clip from the same video. Well, unseen footage from that video. It was from a compilation from Chris's clips channel of Arthur being absolutely wasted. It was at the seventh hole when Arthur was just about ready to throw up. You were surprised he had made it that far without actually throwing up. The image was from the GoPro from the quality it was being displayed on. The other boys were talking as you sat beside your boyfriend, his head not looking up at you.

You put a hand on his thigh to grab his attention. You could tell he was zoning out and that meant he was getting to the point where he might pass out. You leaned towards him, "you okay baby?" He took a second before replying. "Mhm, I'm fine." He then looked up at you and leaned his head on your shoulder. Your other hand went to rub the back of his neck. "Are you sure? You're spacing out."

". . . I am pretty drunk."

"That you are. You going to be able to make it to the end of the video?"

"Yeah, just want you next to me."

It was Chris's voice that broke you out of your conversation. "Oh, he's clingy now!" You stared at him while Arthur had his eyes closed, his head still rested on you. "Mate, if you need a cuddle just ask one of them. They'd be glad to." And it was true, they would. You had witnessed the boys cuddling multiple times and have such a picture in (you say for laughs but it's actually for blackmail).

Throughout the video were shots of you when you appeared in gaming videos with Arthur and Isaac, sometimes just Arthur. You were a big fan of the horror genre, growing up watching scary movies with your dad and watching movies that he watched when he was a kid. Those were times where you could really connect with your dad. You also became a fan of horror games as well, playing games at your friend's house when you could.

It was well known that the boys (mostly Isaac) were absolute cowards when it came to anything horror, and so if, sorry when, they got too scared, they would call for you and you'd appear.

"Baby!" Arthur would call while Isaac would just scream your name ridiculously loud. You'd eventually appear in the doorway, arms crossed. You acted like you were annoyed but they knew you weren't. Arthur would have an awkward smile on his face as he said, "help us?" Isaac would reply with "He means him. I never got scared," which was obviously a lie because you heard him scream the loudest. You'd sigh, "fine," na snake your way over. You personally thought you looked horrendous with your hazardly-put-together outfit and your hair not fully brushed when you appeared on screen but apparently people really liked this look.

The first time they asked you, you were just planning to stand and play until Arthur pulled you into his lap. You were a bit flustered and shy because you weren't used to this much PDA in front of the camera, but you didn't mind. That part caused everyone to go crazy in the comments, but it was also how nonchalant he was about it.

Arthur had a stutter. Usually it wasn't too bad, only happening a few times before he got it out. But sometimes they'd be really bad and mess up his sentence. As funny as that was, because it was hilarious, sometimes you'd help him out with words if he needed it. You usually just let him figure it out on his own, but you would step in and try to get him on the right track.

There had been a couple clips put in of you helping him out. You would either be beside him and quietly say a word to help him or tell him from off camera. He'd finish his sentence and almost every time, without fail, he'd either wink or give you a look that said thank you. You had no idea the viewers had even caught this, but this person had and included almost every single clip they could find of it.

You had appeared on the Bach and Arthur podcast as one of their guests. One people found out Arthur had a girlfriend, and then you came out public with your relationship, people were begging you to come on. You always got a bit of an ego boost when looking at the comments under their videos. When Arthur finally asked you, you were a bit surprised it took him that long. You knew it would take awhile to actually plan it, but even then it was still quite a long time.

You remember you were in bed together one night, your head on his bare chest with your hands intertwined when you asked him. "Why did it take you so long to ask me?" You couldn't see his face, but from his reply you could tell it was one of confusion. "Ask you what?"

"To come on the podcast."

There was silence for a while. You made a noise. "What?"

He mumbled. Despite how close you were to his mouth, you couldn't hear him. "Arthur, what?"

"I was . . . Jealous. Well, that's not quite the right word but I wasn't ready to have you fully in a video."

You smiled and moved to look up at him, "jealous?" He rolled his eyes, "don't go taking that out of context. I just meant that I like keeping meaningful and important things to me private. You're one of those things, and I wasn't quite ready to have you not as private . . . Y'know?"

You could tell he was feeling a bit awkward admitting it. You two didn't have trouble with talking about your feelings but he his brain had tricked him into thinking you would make fun of him (even though he knew you would never). You smiled, "I know. You're important to me to, you know?"

"I know."

A couple weeks later you were sitting in the room where they filmed the podcast. You were a bit nervous. It's not like you didn't want to do it, that was the opposite, but you hadn't done anything like this before. You know they'd do a lot of the talking and take breaks when you needed to, but still.

Arthur would've rather sat beside you )no offence to his boyfriend), but he wanted to make sure you were okay. Because he couldn't be with you, he decided to give you his sweater. You tried to tell him you didn't need it but he refused to accept no as an answer. You didn't know this until he sent it to you, but Isaac had caught this before and camera. That video hasn't seen the internet but you still have it.

The clip that was featured wasn't one of you actually talking, but one of Arthur talking. He had gone into one of his scientific rants again and you were just staring at him. You were glad he felt comfortable enough in front of Isaac that he wasn't afraid to be "nerdy" or annoying when he would rant and would just go for it.

You personally loved when your boyfriend ranted. You didn't know how people couldn't. You could listen to him for hours, it didn't matter if it was information you knew or didn't know. One habit you noticed he picked up when talking to you is he would explain what different things mean if he knew or wasn't sure if you knew what that meant. This helped with your understanding but again it didn't matter.

The clip was of you listening to Arthur talk. Isaac would reply here and there, but you were silent. You were seen seated in the white chair while you stared at your boyfriend, a look in your eyes. The look screamed love, and this was definitely noticeable to viewers as it was mentioned in the comments. You were leaning closer to Arthur ━━ out of interest and because it was just natural to you ━━ and so mesmerized by him. You were listening so intently. It wasn't one of those looks or acts that people play when they are pretending to listen, no, you were genuinely interested in what he had to say.

You were a little confused on why it was included. To you, that was the bare minimum. Lots of things are bare minimum in your relationship: getting flowers, date nights, splitting the chores and rent (as much as Arthur hated the last one). Either way, you thought it was cute.

As well as being on the podcast, Arthur would mention you in passing. A lot of the time it would be "y/n sent me this" or "y/n" showed me that" but there was one where it wasn't really in passing. He asked you if you were comfortable with it being kept in and you didn't mind.

"Is there something about you physically that you don't control, that you wish you could?" Arthur had asked Isaac.

"Yeah."

"What?"

"I can't say it."

"Is it squirting again?" Arthur laughed. "Amy said breathing . . . I actually asked Y/n this question last night while we were in bed-" Isaac raised his eyebrow and Arthur laughed, "not like that. Anyway, I had asked Y/n and she said she would control physical reactions to things . . . Like not gagging when you smell something bad or jumping when you get scared." "That's quite cool actually." Isaac has replied. "Yeah, she's really good at coming up with answers for questions like that."

After a while you started to have more of a social media presence and went live for the first time. It was on TikTok and you didn't expect that many people to join ━━ only about 100-200 people at most ━━ but eventually you were sat in one of Arthur's shirts doing your makeup with over 400 people watching. You got a bit nervous because you had never been on social media a lot, but people were nice and you decided to keep it going.

You would do livestreams once a week, either doing makeup on live or cleaning. You would update whoever was watching about your life and answer questions. You built up a fan base for yourself and people would show up every week. Sometimes you'd livestream special things like you hanging out at the podcast set or give some information on things coming up, nothing too important.

Some photos and videos of you and Arthur from your friends instagrams and people who saw you put together were sprinkled in there was well. Some were of you and Arthur dancing together in a club and others were you and him holding hands.

One special one was a video that Isaac took when you convinced Arthur to dance with you. You had been sitting on the couch in their podcast set while they took a break when Taylor Swift's False God started to play. It only took a couple times of saying please before he agreed and got up with you (he had a really hard time saying no to you). Isaac had stayed to film when your boyfriend agreed, and got the infamous video of you and Arthur dancing.

After Isaac posted it to his story, it was used in a lot of boyfriend material TikTok's. Arthur was boyfriend material. You knew no other guy who would willingly dance to Taylor Swift with you in a room full of people.

There were some pictures scattered in the video where you were caught thirsting over your boyfriend . . . But who wouldn't? You were seen liking and favouring almost any edits of Arthur you came across. You also commented some . . . Not appropriate things on the hot edits. Sometimes you forgot you had a public account and that your boyfriend was famous.

When you were first commented and liked, you didn't think anything of it, but after awhile people started mentioning you in the comments of videos saying things like "y/n, babe, this is for you" and "i know you kicking your feet right now." You were in fact blushing and kicking your feet when you saw the edits. You got a daily supply of your boyfriend, but there's no harm in a little more.

You'd often leave some of your things with Arthur. A lot of the time you had no pockets on your pants and forget (didn't want to) lug a purse around with you. Your solution? Make Arthur carry it. Well, that sounds cruel but he didn't mind. It would be small things like chapstick or lipgloss in his back pocket or a hair tie on his wrist. Usually you remembered to get it back from him, but one time you failed to do that.

Arthur was filming a soccer video with Chris and some friends when a hair tie was seen on his wrist. He had taken off his sweater midway through the video and forgot the thing on his wrist. It wasn't that big of a deal ━━ people already knew you were dating.

You remember when you were asked about it on live, you joked that Chris was so small he would sometimes use it as a belt. Arthur and George thought it was hilarious, Chris just stared at you before shrugging, "it was good, I admit it."

When Arthur got home, you showed him the video. Safe to say you both loved it, and would definitely remember it in the future.

[latenighttalkinqwp]

hey girl! could u do a fic of compilations of reader and Paige being the cutest couple on the court or off the court

maybe even both?👀

love ya💕

americas favorite couple : a thread

1. warm-up welcome

before every game, you and paige have a pre-game ritual — she always finds her in the stands, gives a quick wink, and mouths, “let’s get it.” it’s subtle, but it’s your thing, and it never fails to get paige locked in.

2. you being her personal hype woman

no one hypes paige up like you. whether it’s a no-look pass or a step-back three, youre the first one jumping up, screaming, and filming the replay like a proud mom and a cheerleader rolled into one. very much draft paige vibes!!

3. “he just comes runnin over to me”

after every game, win or loss, paige sprints over, wraps you up in a sweaty hug, and plants the softest kiss on your cheek. it's always wholesome, never over the top — just the perfect, real-life sports movie moment. the tiktok edits are always top tier

4. matching moments

you guys definitely got matching customized sneakers with little doodles only they understand — a tiny heart here, initials there, maybe a date inked in. very subtle, but you can tell there's a whole love story within the shoe. people beg for them to be released 24/7

5. makeshift date nights

while other couples do dinner and movies, you and paige are in the gym. you get rebounds for her, and critique her form ( even if you have no clue what you’re talking about ) . you guys play 1v1, trash talk, and fall for each other all over again .

6. lazy days

off the court? you guys will be in oversized hoodies, making silly tiktoks, dancing terribly (but together), and giggling at random animal videos. you definitely cook dinner for each other, and cozy up on the couch and binge netflix

7. good luck notes for away games

every now and then, paige finds a folded note in her shoe before an away game you couldn’t make it to— which usually says something like “God’s got you, and i’m cheering you on from the couch!” she doesn’t say anything, but her smile walking on the court lets you know that she found it.

8. not so secret clothes swap

you always manage to wear her warmup hoodie like it’s designer, geno eventually gave up on trying to ask paige where hers was. in return, paige somehow ends up in your hoodie post-game, smelling like ariana grande compared to her usual cologne.

9. post game interviews

in the post game conference, paige will somehow always find a way to bring up ‘her girl’ and make it known how much she is thankful for you ( while looking dead at you )

10. “i want a relationship like this”

whether it’s holding hands walking out of the arena, supporting each other through injuries, or just being each other’s safe space after a tough loss, you and paige prove that the best kind of love is the kind that shows up — on the court, off the court, and always.

- thank you so much for reading all the way through! click here to see my masterlist

- this was SO fun to write ( im so sorry this request took me ages anon, im terrible at remembering to write 😭 ) i loved this so much, keep the reqs coming !

[surielstea]

Solstice Special

(NSFW version)

Pairing: ACoTaR makes x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: A compilation of drabbles with a theme of Winter Solstice, just an excuse to write smut really.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ ONLY. pwp, cunninglus, breeding kink (cassian), humiliation kink (azriel), thigh riding, biting kink and mention of blood (Lucien), creampie, p in v, likely a lot of other nasty things.

7.9k words.

Rhys - Sauna

Rhysand had won the snowball fight. Naturally, this victory imbued him with a misplaced sense of entitlement for the rest of the day. He'd declared himself sovereign of all things—including the sauna. Alone.

His decree had prompted groans of protest from the other two winged males, both grumbling about "tradition" and "selfishness" as they trudged back toward the cabin through knee-deep snow. Rhys had merely smirked, unbothered, and turned to me with an outstretched hand.

"Come, darling," he'd said, his tone a silky promise I couldn't resist.

The air inside the sauna was thick and heady, filled with the tang of cedar and the deep, humid heat that wrapped around me like a second skin. Clad in nothing but a towel and a sheen of sweat, I reclined on one of the wooden benches, my head tipped back against the wall, eyes fluttered closed. Each breath filled my lungs with the intoxicating warmth, soothing every tense muscle as it seeped into my very bones.

Across from me, Rhys sat sprawled in his usual languid grace, his own towel draped low on his hips. The steam rose in lazy tendrils around him, blurring the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the wicked curve of his smirk as he watched me. Always watching.

"Comfortable?" he purred, his voice like velvet, dark and inviting.

I hummed in response, too relaxed to bother with words.

His chuckle rolled through the small space, low and decadent as if he'd already won some game I hadn't realized we were playing. "Good. Because I'm not sharing this sauna—or you—with anyone else today."

The heat of the sauna was nothing compared to the heat in Rhysand's gaze. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel it—an unrelenting weight, heavy and deliberate as it traveled the length of my body.

"Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to say what's on your mind?" I murmured, my voice lazy, teasing.

A dark chuckle came in response, sending a ripple of awareness through me. "And ruin the view? Not a chance, darling."

I opened my eyes, the steam blurring his form for just a moment before my gaze sharpened on him. Rhys sat sprawled, his towel barely clinging to his hips, droplets of sweat tracing a maddening path down the carved planes of his chest. His wings were draped behind him, dark and sleek, adding to the languid power that radiated from him.

"Do you enjoy torturing yourself, or is this just for my benefit?" I asked, arching a brow as I stretched, the movement deliberately slow.

His smirk deepened, wicked and knowing. "Who says I'm the one being tortured?"

He moved then, fluid and precise, crossing the short distance between us in a single stride. His towel slipped just a fraction lower, and I swallowed hard, my resolve slipping as he knelt before me, his large hands bracketing my thighs. The warmth of his palms seared through the thin towel that clung to my body, his thumbs stroking soft circles against my bare skin.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. "If you keep teasing me, I might decide to retaliate."

"Maybe I want you to," I whispered, the words barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat.

His pupils flared, and the smirk faded, replaced by something darker, hungrier. "You shouldn't have said that, darling."

Before I could respond, his hands gripped my thighs, pulling me closer to the edge of the bench. His body pressed against mine, all heat and strength, as his mouth captured mine in a kiss that stole every ounce of air from my lungs. It wasn't soft or teasing—it was a claiming, pure and unrelenting.

I moaned against him, my hands finding his shoulders, digging into the slick heat of his skin as he devoured me. His tongue swept into my mouth, coaxing and demanding all at once, while his hands roamed, tugging the towel free from my body and leaving me bare beneath him.

The steam wrapped around us, a cocoon of heat and desire as Rhys pulled back just enough to gaze down at me. His eyes were molten, his breathing ragged. "You're beautiful," he murmured, the words reverent, though his hands betrayed the restraint in his voice as they gripped my hips. "And you're mine."

My response was a breathless gasp as he lowered his mouth to my neck, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin before soothing the bite with his tongue. His hands were everywhere, exploring, worshipping, as his kisses trailed lower, leaving a scorching path in their wake.

I arched into him, my body entirely at his mercy, and Rhys, ever the opportunist, took full advantage. His name fell from my lips like a prayer as he settled between my thighs, his touch igniting a fire that threatened to consume us both.

"Relax, darling," he murmured, his voice thick with promise. "Let me take care of you."

Rhysand's words hung in the humid air, melting into the heat that already had me trembling beneath his touch. His hands—strong, calloused, utterly sure of themselves—caressed the bare skin of my thighs, slowly coaxing them apart as he knelt fully between them. The smirk that played on his lips was as wicked as it was breathtaking, and when he glanced up at me, his violet eyes smoldered with unrelenting intensity.

"Beautiful," he murmured again, his voice a velvet rasp. His hands slid higher, thumbs stroking over sensitive skin, his touch both reverent and maddeningly teasing.

I let my head fall back, a shuddering exhale escaping me as I fought to keep from unraveling too soon. The combination of his gaze, his touch, and the heat of the sauna was overwhelming, a heady mixture that left me utterly at his mercy.

"You're too quiet, darling," Rhys teased, his voice laced with amusement and dark intent. "I want to hear you. Every gasp, every moan. Every single sound you make when I touch you."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words never made it past my lips. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him, and then his mouth descended—kisses and bites trailing down my abdomen, each one setting my nerves alight. When his lips finally found the apex of my thighs, I gasped, my hands flying to his dark, sweat-dampened hair.

"Rhys—"

He hummed against me, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. His tongue flicked out, teasing, testing before he gave me everything, his name falling from my lips like a chant. His grip on my hips tightened, holding me steady as he worked me over with infuriating precision like he was savoring every moment, every reaction.

The steam curled around us, the humid air thickening as my body tensed beneath his ministrations. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, and the groan that rumbled from him in response only spurred me closer to the edge.

"Good girl," he murmured against me, his voice dark and filled with satisfaction. "So perfect for me."

I could barely process his words, too consumed by the pleasure building inside me, the heat threatening to shatter me entirely. His name spilled from my lips again, broken and desperate, as he pushed me higher and higher, his tongue and fingers working in perfect, devastating harmony.

"Let go," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Give it to me."

And I did. The tension coiled within me snapped, pleasure crashing through me like a tidal wave. I cried out his name, my body trembling, my back arching as Rhys held me through every pulse, every wave, his mouth and hands relentless as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from me.

When I finally came down, gasping for breath, he pressed one last lingering kiss to my thigh before rising to his full height. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his lips curved in that familiar, wicked smile.

"Attagirl," he murmured, his voice rough and impossibly dark.

And then his hands were on me again, pulling me up against him, his towel dropping to the floor as he claimed my mouth with a ferocity that promised he wasn't nearly finished.

Az - Party

The River House was alive with celebration. Laughter echoed off the high ceilings, mingling with the cheerful notes of a string quartet in the corner. Snow swirled gently outside the windows, the night blanketed in frost and light.

I stood near the refreshments table, sipping a glass of wine, trying my best to focus on the festivities. My brother Cassian's booming laughter carried from somewhere in the room, no doubt entertaining a small crowd with one of his outlandish stories. Mor twirled a glass of mulled wine in hand, her golden gown catching the flicker of candlelight as she chatted with Elain and Feyre.

It was all so... warm. Inviting. But my attention kept drifting to the shadows pooling in the corner of the room. Or, more accurately, to him.

Azriel leaned against the far wall, nursing a glass of something amber-colored. He was dressed in all black, as usual, the tailored jacket and crisp shirt doing sinful things to his broad shoulders. His gaze, sharp and unreadable, was fixed firmly on me.

I knew that look.

I tried not to squirm under the weight of it, but my body betrayed me, heat prickling my skin. I sipped my wine and looked away, pretending to listen to Amren who was telling a story to others. My heart betrayed me too, thudding against my ribs.

A quiet voice, rough with amusement, broke through my thoughts. "You're terrible at pretending I'm not here."

I turned to find Azriel standing just behind me, his shadows coiling lazily around his shoulders. His dark eyes gleamed with a heat that made my breath hitch.

"Can you blame me?" I said softly, tilting my head in challenge. "You've been staring at me all night."

"Because you've been avoiding me all night," he replied, stepping closer.

I glanced around the room, acutely aware of how close he was. If Cassian—or anyone—saw us like this.

"We agreed to keep this quiet," I reminded him, though my voice lacked conviction.

Azriel smirked, his lips quirking in that infuriatingly attractive way that made my knees weak. "You're not making it easy."

"Not here," I ignore his words, my heart racing as his hand brushed against mine, hidden from view.

"Come with me then," he murmured, his voice low enough to send a shiver down my spine.

I barely had time to think before Azriel tightened his grip on my hand, guiding me out of the crowded room. We slipped through the hallways of the River House, the sound of the party fading with every step. My pulse quickened—not from fear of being caught, but from the sheer intensity of his presence.

He stopped in a secluded alcove, moonlight streaming through a frosted window. The silver light cast shadows across his sharp cheekbones, and when he turned to face me, I couldn't look away.

"Az," I whispered, but whatever I meant to say dissolved when he stepped closer, caging me against the wall.

His hand came up, bracing against the wall beside my head. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been to stay away from you tonight?" His voice was rough, and low, sending a bolt of heat straight through me.

"I could say the same," I admitted, my voice soft but steady.

His eyes darkened, his free hand brushing my cheek. "Say the word, and I'll stop."

I didn't hesitate. "Don't."

His lips crashed against mine, and the world fell away.

Azriel kissed like a man starved. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands sliding to my waist, pulling me against him. I tangled my fingers in his hair, gasping as he deepened the kiss.

His tongue found its way into my mouth, pressing me harder into the wall behind me as he explored every inch of me. He couldn't get enough, his shadows were tightening around my thighs, swirling greedily below my dress, up my waist.

He kicked my legs apart, and then his knee was pressed to my pulsing heat and there was nothing I could do then except moan his name and I was grateful for the music playing in the other room otherwise I surely would've been heard.

"As much as I love to hear you moaning my name, I need you to stay quiet," He breathed into my open mouth. "Can you do that for me, love?" He tilted his head slightly.

I nod shakily. "Mm," I whimper.

He flashed a wolfish grin. "That's my girl," He praises, then dips down to put his lips on my neck.

He lifted me effortlessly, positioning me to settle on his thigh, straddling it as his lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear.

"Someone's going to catch us," I managed to say, though I didn't sound the least bit convincing.

"Let them." His voice was a growl, his shadows curling around us like a protective cocoon. "Or maybe I'll just make you beg me to stop."

"Not a chance," I shot back, pulling him closer.

His hands tightened on my hips, and when he guided me to grind down, I couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped. Azriel swallowed the sound with a kiss, his lips, and hands leaving me utterly undone.

His hands gripped my hips with bruising strength, steadying me as I rocked against him. His thigh, solid and unyielding, pressed into the place where I ached most, sending sparks of pleasure curling through me. But it wasn't enough—not yet.

"That's it," Azriel murmured, his voice a low rasp against my ear. "Getting off on my thigh. Such a needy girl."

Heat flared across my cheeks, humiliation sinking deep, but it didn't stop me. I couldn't stop. I rolled my hips again, chasing the friction I so desperately craved.

Azriel's hands slid up, one brushing the bare skin of my thigh beneath my dress, the other reaching to tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear. The gesture was almost tender, a stark contrast to his taunting words.

"Look at you," he continued, his tone darkly amused. "So desperate for it. You'd let anyone walk in right now and see, wouldn't you?"

"No," I gasped, shaking my head, though my body betrayed me, grinding harder against him.

"No?" he echoed, his lips brushing my jaw. "You sure about that, love? Because you haven't stopped." His teeth grazed my earlobe, a sharp nip that made me shudder.

I buried my face in his neck, trying to hide from the weight of his gaze, but he wouldn't allow it.

"Uh-uh," he growled, one hand gripping my chin and tilting my face back up to him. "Eyes on me. I want to see how much you need this."

A whimper escaped my lips, and he chuckled darkly, his thumb brushing over my flushed cheek. "That's my good girl," he praised, dragging the words out slowly, savoring each one.

The praise, the shame, the molten heat pooling low in my belly—it all coalesced into something heady and all-consuming. My nails dug into his shoulders, and I tried to grind faster, harder, desperate to push myself over the edge.

But Azriel had other plans. His grip tightened on my hips, forcing me to slow.

"Not yet," he murmured, his voice a silken command. "You don't come until I say you can."

I let out a frustrated cry, my forehead dropping against his chest. "Azriel," I pleaded, my voice breathless, needy.

He hummed in mock sympathy, the sound vibrating through his chest. "What's the matter, love? You were doing so well." His thigh flexed beneath me, sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through my veins. "Don't tell me you're already close. From just this?"

My face burned, the humiliation sharp and thrilling. I refused to answer, but my silence only made him laugh softly, his shadows curling tighter around us.

"That's what I thought," he said, his tone laced with smug satisfaction. "So desperate. So pretty when you're like this."

"Please," I whispered, the word tumbling from my lips before I could stop it.

His eyes darkened, his smirk growing. "Please, what?"

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat.

"Say it," he urged, his voice dropping to a low, commanding growl. "Tell me what you want, love. Beg for it."

"Please, Az," I whispered again, my voice trembling. "I need—"

"You need what?" he interrupted, making me fumble for words further. His shadows brushed over my legs, teasing the sensitive skin there. "Say it."

"I need to come," I finally admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

He let out a low hum, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "That's better."

A soft whine escaped me as he guided my hips again but did not tell me I could allow that sweet release to flood me, slow and deliberate, dragging out every second. My thighs burned with effort, my body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"That's it," Azriel murmured, his lips ghosting over my ear. "Keep going. Show me how much you want it."

I rolled my hips again, the friction unbearable, every movement sending me spiraling closer to the edge. But he wouldn't let me fall, his hands controlling every moment, every sensation.

"Good girl," he said, his voice velvet-soft. "You're so close, aren't you?"

"Yes," I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Please, Azriel—"

"Not yet," he said again, his smirk widening. "Just a little longer, love. I had to wait all night, it's only fair."

Tears pricked my eyes from the effort of holding back, my body taut with need. "Azriel, please," I begged, my voice cracking.

He smiled at the sound, lips finding their place on my neck, sucking and licking where he knew was my most sensitive spot. I whimpered his name, needy and desperate, clawing down his back, bucking my hips against his flexing thigh pathetically, trying to keep the friction while simultaneously holding it at bay.

"Azriel," I cried. "Please, I'll beg? Is that what you want?" I mumbled, teary-eyed, staring up at him through my lashes.

A soft smile cracked his lips, and then he finally relented, his hand sliding beneath my dress to grip my bare thigh. "That's okay love," he murmured, his lips brushing mine. "Let go for me."

I shattered. The release hit me like a tidal wave, pleasure rippling through every nerve as my body tensed, and then melted against him. His name fell from my lips in a broken cry, muffled as he captured my mouth in a searing kiss.

When I finally stilled, trembling in his arms, he pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with something softer now, more tender.

I smiled weakly, my heart still racing. "You're insufferable."

His laugh was low and quiet, his shadows brushing over my skin in a gentle caress. "And yet, you love me."

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue.

As footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway, Azriel set me back on my feet, smoothing out my dress with careful hands.

I wobbled slightly on my feet, catching my balance despite the ache in my shaky legs.

"You should go back first," he said, his lips quirking into a small smile. "Before someone notices you're missing."

"And what about you?"

He leaned in, pressing a loving kiss to my temple. "I'll go in a few minutes after you, don't want to raise awareness." He smiled crookedly. "And mask your smell," He advises.

I flush deeply, but do as he says, before leaving him in the hall. Looking back only once to see the dark promise in his eyes. Next time it wasn't only going to be his thigh.

Cassian - Unwrap

Cassian toyed with the tassel on my silk robe as I lounged on our bed, my head resting comfortably in his lap while I read. His calloused hand had been stroking lazy patterns along my side, his touch so soothing it made it hard to focus on the words in my book. But then, the silk tassel caught his attention, his fingers snagging the string and giving it a gentle tug.

"You know," he said, his voice low and casual—too casual, which I knew meant trouble. "I never did get a Solstice present from you."

I looked up at him, meeting his hazel gaze. Mischief danced in his eyes, that boyish grin tugging at his lips. Closing my book with a soft thud, I sat up, brushing my hair over my shoulder. "I am your present," I said with a playful smile.

His grin widened, his head tilting in that teasing, infuriating way that made me want to kiss him senseless—and smack him—at the same time. "C'mon, you can't be that lazy."

My lips twitched as I fought a grin, deciding then and there to wipe that smug expression off his face. Without a word, I swung one leg over his lap, settling myself atop him. His large hands instinctively landed on my hips, his thumbs brushing against the silk of my robe.

"No, Cass," I said, leaning closer until my lips ghosted over his. "I am your present."

I watched the shift in his expression as the words sank in, his teasing smirk giving way to something darker, hungrier. Slowly, I dragged my fingers up the column of his neck, tracing the edge of his jaw before guiding one of his hands to the tie of my robe. His breath hitched as he pulled at the silk, the knot unraveling easily under his practiced fingers.

The gray robe slipped open, revealing delicate lace that clung to my skin—a new set of lingerie he'd never seen before. It was a deep, rich red, the exact shade of his siphons, a color I knew drove the possessive side of him wild.

"Oh, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice thick as his eyes roamed over me. His pupils darkened, swallowing the hazel of his irises. I let the robe fall from my shoulders entirely, the fabric pooling around my waist as I leaned back slightly, giving him an unimpeded view.

His gaze devoured me, his hands tightening on my hips as though he needed to anchor himself. "You been hiding this from me all day?" he murmured, his voice strained with the effort it took to hold himself back.

"Maybe," I teased, my fingers weaving into his dark hair, tugging lightly as I leaned down to whisper against his ear, "Go on, Cass. Unwrap your gift."

Cassian didn't need to be told twice. His hands were already moving, sliding up my sides, the heat of his touch searing through the lace as he explored every inch of me. His lips found the sensitive spot at my neck, just beneath my ear, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my skin that made my breath hitch.

"Whatever you want," I sigh softly. "You can do whatever you want to me." I run a hand through his dark hair.

Cassian let out a deep, guttural growl at my words, his lips pausing against the tender skin of my neck. "Don't say things like that unless you mean them, sweetheart," he warned, his voice dark and hoarse, the edge of restraint barely clinging to it.

I arched against him, my fingers threading deeper into his hair. "I mean every word, Cass," I whispered, my voice breathy as I rolled my hips, feeling him hard and ready against me. "You know I do."

His control snapped. One large hand slid up to cup the back of my neck, holding me in place as his mouth captured mine in a kiss that was wild and consuming. His other hand skimmed down my body, calloused fingers tracing over the lace that clung to my skin. The roughness of his touch was a delicious contrast to the soft fabric, and I moaned into his mouth, my body already strung tight with anticipation.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His fingers slipped under the band of my panties, tearing them off with one swift motion and tossing the ruined lace to the floor. This is what he enjoyed, what I knew he enjoyed. To ravage and take what belonged to him.

I gasped as the cool air hit my heated skin, but Cassian didn't give me time to recover. His lips left mine, trailing down my throat, over the swell of my breasts, before pausing to take one taut peak into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, his teeth grazing just enough to send a jolt of pleasure straight to my core.

"Cassian," I breathed, my nails digging into his shoulders as his hand slid lower, his fingers dipping between my thighs. He groaned as he found me slick and ready for him, his touch slow and deliberate as he explored every inch of me.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he muttered, his lips moving back up, kissing and nipping a path to my collarbone. As he did so he aligned the leaking head of his cock up with my wet entrance, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. The intensity of his gaze stole my breath, his hazel eyes dark with hunger.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he said, his voice rough and commanding.

"You," I managed, my voice trembling. "I want you, Cass. Please."

His mouth curved into a wicked smile against my skin. "Good girl."

He pushed into me slowly, stretching me in a way that made my head fall back, a moan escaping my lips. Cassian groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he sank into me fully, his forehead dropping to rest against mine.

"You feel so fucking good," he rasped, his breath coming in ragged pants as he began to move, his hips rolling in a rhythm that had me seeing stars all over again.

The room was filled with the sounds of our pleasure—moans, gasps, the slap of skin against skin. Cassian's name fell from my lips like a prayer, his own curses and praises spilling into the air as he drove us both closer to the edge.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough as his hand gripped my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.

My eyes locked with his, and the intensity of his expression—possessive, reverent, utterly consumed. "Whatever I want, right?"

I nod shakily, nails digging into his skin.

He smiles, the sight sinful, eyes blown with just. "Good, I'm g'na come inside you," He purred just below my ear. "You stopped takin' that birth tonic a few weeks ago, yeah?" He asks and I nod again, heat blooming across my face.

"Sweet girl," He coos. "I'm g'na stuff you full, get you pregnant," He rasped huskily. My cunt pulsed with the promise, dripping on his cock as a natural lubricant. "You like that, don't you? Squeezin' me so tight," He muttered, voice hitching as I clenched around him eagerly.

"Yes, yes, please. Fill me up."

Cassian's sinful smile only deepened, his breath hot against my ear as he thrust into me with a new intensity. The bed creaked beneath us, his hips snapping forward in a way that had me crying out his name.

"Yeah, that's it," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly. His lips brushed over the shell of my ear, his words punctuated by the rhythmic slap of his body against mine. "Gonna fill you so full, sweetheart. Make you mine in every way."

I could feel the heat pooling low in my stomach, the way my body responded to his every word, his every touch. "Cass," I gasped, my nails raking down his broad back as he pinned me beneath him, a knot already forming. "Please."

"Please what?" he murmured, his forehead dropping to rest against mine as his thrusts grew harder, deeper.

"Please," My voice failed me, words coming out in a pitiful whimper. "More."

"Yeah? Begging for more?" He smiled, leaning down and capturing my needy noises with his mouth, his tongue already finding its way inside, exploring every inch of me.

He pulled away after a moment, sensing I needed to breathe. "You're taking me so well, squeezing me so tight. You were made for me, weren't you?"

"Yes," I cried, the overwhelming pleasure forcing my back to arch off the mattress. "Only for you, Cassian."

His groan was pure sin, his pace relentless as his hand slid down my body, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves between my thighs. The added stimulation sent me over the edge, my orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave. My vision blurred as I clenched around him, my cries filling the room as my body trembled beneath his.

"That's my girl," Cassian growled, his voice thick with pride and possession. He didn't stop, his hips driving into me with a ferocity that bordered on desperation. "You're so perfect like this. Wrecked for me."

I felt him twitch inside me, the telltale sign that he was close. His thrusts became erratic, his breathing ragged as he buried himself deep, groaning my name like a prayer.

"Gonna give you all of it," he rasped, his voice strained as his release hit him, hot and thick, filling me completely. "Gonna make sure it takes." He grunted, fucking it deep into me, his tip brushing against my cervix.

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through me, the idea of him claiming me in such an intimate way only adding to the bliss coursing through my body. Cassian made no move of pulling out, seeming content to keep his seed deep inside of me.

"You're mine," he murmured, his lips brushing over my temple as he held me close. "Always."

I smiled, my fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. "Always," I echoed, content to let the world fall away as I stayed wrapped in his arms, knowing the night was far from over.

Lucien - Stockings

Lucien had stripped me down to my socks. Literally. The delicate thigh-high stockings I wore remained on as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer. His clothed cock was hard, the heat of him brushing against my soaked, bare folds in a tormenting tease. I whined pitifully, bucking my hips in desperation for more. For him.

"Patience, fawn," he chided, a wicked grin tugging at his lips as his warm, calloused hands pinned my hips down to the bed. His amber eye glinted in the candlelight, a smoldering ember against his freckled skin. The other, his metal eye, whirred faintly, locking onto every twitch of my body, every subtle plea I made for him.

"Lucien," I whimpered, voice breathless, needy. My head fell back into the plush pillows as his mouth began its sinful descent, trailing slow, heated kisses down the curve of my neck. His lips were deliberate, slow, savoring every inch of skin as though he had all the time in the world to ruin me.

"You're gorgeous like this," he murmured against my skin, his voice thick and dripping with lust. "All laid out for me, helpless, begging." One of his hands slipped from my hip to glide along the underside of my thigh, his thumb brushing over the lace bow at the top of my stocking. His touch was reverent as if worshiping me were second nature.

When he'd first seen me in these stockings, I barely managed to speak before he had me bare beneath him, as if the mere sight of me was enough to drive him feral. Now, as his mouth moved lower, his teeth grazed the swell of my breast. His tongue flicked over a hardened nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from me.

"Lucien," I cried, arching into him as he sucked the sensitive bud into his mouth. His tongue swirled in tight, maddening circles, leaving me trembling beneath him. He released me with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to my skin as he continued his journey downward.

He gathered my thighs like I was melting in his hands, draping them over his broad, muscular shoulders. His head dipped, fiery hair spilling across my skin as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the delicate flesh of my inner thighs. I felt his teeth tugging at the top of one stocking, pulling it down in slow, deliberate movements until it was folded in the crease of my knee.

"You drive me mad," he growled, his voice rough, raw with hunger. "Your body, your taste." He kissed closer, dangerously close to where I wanted him most. I was quivering beneath him, my body a live wire, every nerve ending alight as he teased me mercilessly.

And then he bit.

Sharp canines sank into the tender flesh of my inner thigh. Pain and pleasure collided, white-hot and electric, and I screamed, my back arching off the bed. My hands shot to his hair, tangling in the silken strands, pulling as I cried out his name. "Lucien." The sound was a broken plea, my brows creasing as I felt warm liquid trickle down my thigh.

He groaned at the taste, his tongue swiping over the wound to catch every drop. The flat of his tongue soothed the sting, leaving me trembling in his hold. Deep enough to scar, a mark of him burned into my flesh. A claim. The thought alone had me clenching around nothing, my eyes fluttering shut as heat coiled low in my belly.

"You're mine," he rumbled, his lips brushing the fresh mark. "No one will ever touch you like this, and if they do..." He smirked. "They'll see this mark, mine."

And then his mouth descended to where I needed him most.

The first drag of his tongue along my slick heat was devastating. I cried out, my fingers tightening in his hair as he licked into me, slow and deliberate, savoring every taste. His nose nudged against my sensitive clit, drawing another desperate moan from my lips.

"Lucien," I whimpered, my thighs trembling on his shoulders. He growled against me, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure rippling through my body.

"You're so sweet, fawn," he murmured, his voice muffled by the slick heat of me. "Every part of you, perfect."

He wrapped his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer as his tongue worked me over with an intensity that left me breathless. Every stroke, every swirl, every scrape of his teeth against my swollen clit unraveled me further. He feasted on me like a man starved, drinking in every sound I made, every shiver of my body beneath him.

Lucien's name spilled from my lips like a prayer, over and over, each syllable broken by gasps and whimpers. My body was no longer my own; it was his, entirely, completely. He had me unraveling, falling apart with every skilled flick of his tongue and every deep, guttural growl rumbling through him as he consumed me.

"Such a pretty girl, being so loud for me," He purrs against my heat.

I shuddered at his words, my fingers clawing at the sheets, at his hair, at anything that could anchor me as he drew me higher and higher. His teeth grazed my clit, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain that had me crying out, my hips bucking against his face. He laughed softly, the sound smug and intoxicating.

"You're close, aren't you?" he teased, the heat of his breath fanning against my slick core. "I can feel you trembling for me, fawn. Feel how badly your body wants to give in."

"Yes," I gasped, barely able to form the word. "Lucien, please."

"Please, what?" His tone was all wicked amusement as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves, so light it was almost maddening. "Use your words."

I whimpered, my thighs quivering as he kissed me again, harder this time, his tongue swirling around the swollen bud. "Please make me come," I begged, my voice desperate, raw. "Lucien, please—"

He didn't make me wait. With one last growl, he sucked hard, his tongue relentless as he pushed me over the edge. My climax hit me like a storm, violent and all-consuming, every nerve in my body alight with fire. I cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me shaking and boneless beneath him.

Lucien didn't stop, didn't let up as he worked me through every pulse, every aftershock. Only when I was a trembling mess did he finally pull away, his lips glistening with my release, his amber eye blazing with pride and hunger. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he crawled up my body.

"You're beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice low, reverent, as he cupped my flushed cheek. "Ruined for anyone else."

I barely had time to catch my breath before I felt the heavy press of his cock against my entrance. My eyes fluttered open, meeting his as he leaned down to kiss me, slow and deep, letting me taste myself on his lips.

"Lucien," I whispered against his mouth, the word half a plea, half a surrender.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his metal eye whirring softly as he studied my face. "Say it, fawn," he said, his voice a rough rasp. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," I breathed, the truth of it settling deep in my chest. "Only yours."

His lips curved into a feral grin, satisfaction and possession flickering across his features. "Good girl."

And then he pushed into me, slow and unyielding, stretching me inch by inch until I was utterly filled, utterly his.

Eris - Cold

"You're so warm," I sigh contentedly, nuzzling into my mate's neck. The blizzard that swept through Autumn had knocked out the house's heating system days ago, leaving the usually cozy manor cloaked in an unfamiliar chill.

I wasn't used to the cold, not while hailing from the Summer Court, where warmth was as constant as the tide. Last night, I'd curled up by the hearth, shivering until Eris found me, gently scolding me for not coming to bed. Part of me suspected he could've fixed the heating system with a flick of his wrist, yet he hadn't. He wanted me close, pressed against him, and I couldn't deny him.

Now, wrapped in his arms, my thin nightgown felt like a poor barrier against the fire that pulsed through his veins. His shirtless torso radiated the kind of heat I craved, but even that wasn't enough. Not for the bone-deep chill that still lingered. Not for the ache I felt blooming low in my stomach. I needed that warmth to be a part of me, inside of me.

I burrowed closer, letting out a soft sigh. "Eris," I breathed, tightening my hold around his chest.

He hummed, half awake, his chin resting atop my head. His voice was rough with sleep when he murmured, "Hmm?"

"I'm still cold," I huffed, a pout tugging at my lips.

He shifted slightly, his fingers trailing lazy patterns down my back. "Well, we can't really get much closer," he mumbled.

A flicker of frustration bubbled in my chest. "Can you..." I hesitated, unsure how to ask for what I wanted. My cheeks burned as I clung to him, the words caught in my throat.

"If you want me to fuck you, just say so, my love," he said bluntly, his tone a soft, teasing drawl that sent heat rushing to my face.

I tilted my head up to meet his gaze, my breath hitching as his amber eyes glinted with unspoken promises. Lifting slightly, I pressed my lips to his, the kiss tender yet brimming with unspoken need. Warmth bloomed in my cheeks as his hands moved to my waist, guiding me onto his lap.

I straddled him, my knees bracketing his hips as he pulled me closer, his heat seeping into my skin. His lips left mine to trail desperate, frantic kisses down my jaw, and I let out a soft whimper at the sensation.

"I want you to fuck me," I confessed, my voice trembling with need.

His groan was low and guttural, vibrating through his chest. "That wasn't so hard, was it sweetheart?"

Eris's hands slid up my thighs, gathering the fabric of my nightgown until it bunched around my hips. His touch was fire itself, scorching in its intensity as he ran his fingers over my bare skin. I shivered, not from the cold, but from the delicious contrast of heat and chill that had my body alight.

"You're freezing," he murmured, his brows furrowing as his hands moved to grip my hips. "Let's warm you up, yeah?"

Before I could answer, his lips captured mine again, more demanding this time. His tongue swept into my mouth, coaxing soft moans from me as he rolled his hips against mine. The friction sent sparks of pleasure coursing through me, but it wasn't enough. I needed more.

"Eris," I gasped, breaking the kiss to look at him. "Please."

His lips curved into a wicked smile. "Patience, my love," he purred, his hands sliding to cup my ass as he pulled me flush against him. "I'm going to warm every inch of you."

I let out a breathless laugh. "You're taking too long."

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Is that so?"

Before I could respond, one of his hands dipped between us, his fingers brushing over my soaked core. I let out a strangled gasp, my head falling back as he teased me through the thin fabric of my panties.

"Already so wet for me," he murmured, his voice thick with pride and desire. "So desperate."

I bit my lip, grinding against his hand in search of more friction. "Eris," I whined, my voice breaking as his fingers pushed the fabric aside. "Need more."

He pulled his fingers from me, and I let out a noise of protest, but it quickly turned into a gasp as he flipped us effortlessly. I was on my back now, with him looming over me, his firey hair tousled and his eyes blazing with heat.

"You'll have me, love," he promised, his voice thick with need. "Every inch of me."

Eris shifted, freeing himself from the confines of his pants. My eyes dropped to him, my breath catching at the sight of his length, hard and ready for me. He smirked, clearly enjoying my reaction, before leaning down to capture my lips again.

His body pressed against mine, his heat wrapping around me like a cocoon. As he positioned himself at my entrance, I braced myself, my body already trembling with anticipation.

"Such a needy girl," He tuts beside my ear, kissing my jaw. "You need this so bad, huh?" he whispered, his voice a molten caress.

"Yes, yes Eris," I breathe, and his smile against my skin makes my stomach churn.

And without another word, he thrust into me, filling me completely until I was engulfed in the flames of our desire.

Eris groaned low in his throat as he sank fully into me, his warmth spreading through every inch of my body. My breath hitched, my hands clutching at his shoulders as he stilled for a moment, letting me adjust to the fullness. His lips brushed against my jawline, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck.

"You take me so well," he murmured, his voice rough, a low rumble of molten heat that seemed to pool low in my stomach. "So perfect for me."

I moaned softly, rolling my hips to encourage him to move. He didn't make me wait long. His first thrust was slow and deliberate, dragging against every sensitive part of me, and I cried out, arching beneath him.

"That's it, my love," he groaned, his hand slipping beneath my thigh to hitch it higher around his waist. His fiery magic flared where his skin met mine, a warm pulse that sent shivers racing through me despite the heat.

But Eris wasn't satisfied with just that. A faint glow sparked at his fingertips, and the fire coiled around my leg, pinning it higher against his side. The sensation was incredible—hot but never painful, as if his flame had become an extension of him. The warmth radiated through me, loosening every muscle, chasing away the last vestiges of the chill that had settled in my bones.

"Can you feel it?" he rasped, his thrusts deep and unrelenting now, filling me over and over with a pace that left me gasping. "You feel me fucking the heat back into you, baby?"

"Yes," I whimpered, my hands clawing at his back, desperate to anchor myself as the pleasure built, as his fire seemed to seep deeper, consuming me whole.

The glow of his magic reflected in his amber eyes, which burned with a feral intensity. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin as his lips claimed mine again. The kiss was searing, just like the rest of him, leaving me breathless.

"You're mine," he growled against my lips, his voice deep and possessive. "All mine."

"I'm yours," I gasped, my voice trembling with the force of my desire. "All yours, Eris."

The way his body tensed told me he was close, and I was right there with him, the pleasure coiling tighter with each thrust, each pulse of heat that spread from his magic.

"Come for me, love," he demanded, his hand slipping between us to find that sensitive bundle of nerves. His touch sent me hurtling over the edge, and I cried out his name as the release shattered through me. My body tightened around him, drawing a deep groan from his throat.

His rhythm faltered as he followed, his fire flaring bright as he spilled inside me. The heat was intoxicating, a rush that spread through my entire body, filling me with a warmth so profound it felt like I might melt. He buried his face in my neck, his breaths heavy and uneven as he rode out his climax.

When he finally stilled, the only sound in the room was the mingling of our ragged breaths. He pressed a lingering kiss to my collarbone, his hands stroking soothing patterns over my sides.

"Warm enough now?" he murmured, a teasing lilt in his voice.

I let out a breathless laugh, still basking in the afterglow. "More than enough."

Eris chuckled, the sound low and satisfied, as he pulled from me—and I immediately missed the warmth, watching as he propped himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His amber eyes still glowed faintly with the remnants of his magic.

"Autumn males really do have fire in their veins," I murmured, my voice soft, I reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, swiping my thumb over the teasing smirk forming on his lips.

"That we do, my love," he said, leaning down to kiss me again. "And it's all yours."

SFW version here -> link

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[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Hi, could you please write about how Lando finds out that the reader really likes cats, and how he tries to come to terms with it (remember that video where he says that if a person doesn't like dogs but also likes cats it's a red flag).

A Pawful Revelation

Word count: 922

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

________________________________________________________

It started innocently enough. You and Lando were scrolling through your phones one lazy afternoon, each sprawled on opposite ends of his massive couch. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of a race replay on the TV and the occasional flick of your nails on the glass screen.

Lando suddenly perked up, his attention snagged by an adorable video of a Golden Retriever puppy wagging its tail enthusiastically.

“Look at this little guy!” he exclaimed, shoving his phone toward you.

You glanced up from your screen, smiling. “Aww, he’s cute,” you said, but you didn’t look as enthusiastic as Lando clearly wanted you to be. He frowned slightly but didn’t press it.

A moment later, you bit your lip to suppress a smile as you scrolled further down your own feed.

“Why are you grinning like that?” Lando asked, craning his neck to look at your phone.

“Oh, no reason,” you said, too quickly.

“Let me see.”

Before you could stop him, Lando snatched your phone and squinted at the screen. His face twisted into a mixture of amusement and betrayal as he saw the source of your delight: a compilation of cats knocking objects off tables with utter disdain.

“Cats?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

“What about them?” you asked innocently, snatching your phone back.

“You… like cats?” he asked, narrowing his eyes like you’d just told him you secretly supported his rival team.

“Of course I do,” you replied, laughing. “They’re hilarious and cute!”

Lando leaned back on the couch, folding his arms as he stared at you, processing this revelation. “Wait, wait. You mean like, really like cats?”

You nodded. “Yeah, they’re amazing. So independent, so sassy. I’ve always loved them.”

He groaned, running a hand through his messy curls. “You’re telling me you’re a cat person?”

“Why do you say it like I just confessed to a crime?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because it’s a red flag!” Lando said, throwing his hands up dramatically.

You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your phone. “Oh, come on, Lando. Are you seriously judging me for liking cats? You like dogs; I like cats. It’s not that deep.”

“But it is!” he insisted, leaning toward you, his tone half-joking but with a hint of genuine worry. “Dogs are loyal, happy, and full of love. Cats are… evil. They scratch you for no reason and knock your stuff over just to annoy you!”

You rolled your eyes. “Cats are misunderstood. They’re affectionate, but on their own terms. They’re like the cool kids of the pet world.”

Lando shook his head, still looking troubled. “I don’t know if I can trust someone who prefers cats over dogs.”

“Oh, please,” you said, giving him a playful shove. “You’re being ridiculous. Besides, I didn’t say I don’t like dogs. I just like cats more.”

“That’s worse!” he exclaimed, pretending to clutch his chest.

You laughed again, but you could tell he was genuinely grappling with this newfound information about you.

Over the next few days, Lando seemed determined to convince you that dogs were superior. He sent you countless videos of puppies doing adorable things, from catching Frisbees to snuggling with their owners. He even tried to recruit his fans into the debate by posting a poll on Instagram: Cats or Dogs?

Despite his efforts, your love for cats remained unwavering. In fact, you doubled down, texting him memes of cats in silly hats and videos of them performing acrobatics.

One day, he showed up at your apartment with a smug grin and a small gift bag.

“What’s this?” you asked, taking the bag from him.

“Just a little something to change your mind,” he said, flopping onto your couch with an air of confidence.

Inside the bag was a pair of socks covered in cartoon dogs and a plush Golden Retriever toy.

“Really, Lando?” you said, holding up the socks.

“What? I’m trying to save you from a life of bad decisions,” he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

The real test came a week later when you convinced Lando to visit a cat café with you. He was reluctant at first, muttering about how he’d probably leave covered in scratches. But when he saw how excited you were, he couldn’t say no.

As soon as you entered, a fluffy gray cat sauntered over to you, meowing softly. Your face lit up as you crouched down to pet it.

Lando watched from a distance, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed. But then a tiny orange kitten climbed onto his lap, purring loudly.

“Uh, what do I do?” he asked, looking slightly panicked.

“Just pet him,” you said, smiling.

Hesitantly, Lando stroked the kitten’s soft fur. The kitten responded by curling up and falling asleep on his lap.

For a moment, Lando looked conflicted, but then a small smile crept onto his face.

“See?” you said, sitting beside him. “Cats aren’t so bad.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, trying to hide his grin. “This one’s alright, I guess.”

By the time you left the café, Lando had a newfound appreciation for cats. While he still insisted that dogs were better, he grudgingly admitted that cats weren’t the villains he’d made them out to be.

And as you walked back to the car, he slipped his hand into yours and said, “Okay, fine. Maybe I can tolerate your cat obsession. But only because it’s you.”

[innerfare]

Zoro NSFW // Smut Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Zoro smut from my multi character posts (Kisses, Going Down On You, Sex Toys, Threesome Headcanons, Blowjobs, Playing With Your Nipples, Mirror Sex).

Genre: Pure Smut

CW: NSFW // grumpy dom Zoro, Daddy Zoro, oral (receiving and giving), threesomes with Law, Perona, and Sanji, toys

———

Kisses: 

His kisses are a bit lazy, but deep. Also lots of tongue, to the point he’s used tongue when kissing you on the cheek without even realizing. Takes kissing you very seriously, gets grumpy if you two haven’t made out a little bit during the day, expects to make out with you at bedtime. If you try pulling away before he’s had his fill, he’ll tell you to stop and put a big, calloused hand on your cheek to pull your lips back to his. His eyes actually roll into the back of his head when you kiss his chest and shoulders. 

Going Down On You: 

When he’s hungry, he won’t ask. He’ll just pry your legs apart and go to town as casually as making a cup of tea, though he does it with such fervor you think he must be an addict. 

He usually drags you on top of him and makes you sit on his face so he can lap at your folds at his leisure. He prefers to sit with his hands behind his back while he does it, as if he’s a king and you’re servicing him by letting him tongue your poor, aching cunt (you are), but if you’re being naughty, he’ll wrap those massive hands around your thighs and hold you in place. He also gets super annoyed if you squeal or squirm. 

“Quiet, woman,” he’ll tell you, furrowing his brows. “You’re distracting me.” 

He likes to spread your lips apart and take a good look at you first. He’ll bury his face in your folds and inhale as deeply as he can several times, taking his sweet time before he begins poking and prodding. He’ll mutter to himself as he does it. 

“Mmm, that’s good. Yeah, just like that. That’s a sweet pussy. So sensitive. I bet I can make it cream.” 

He’ll stop in the middle of what he’s doing to place some warm, lingering kisses on your folds before ramming his tongue back inside you. Really loves spitting in your hole and pushing it in deeper with his fingers. Will literally drool in your cunt because he enjoys seeing it spill out. 

His Favorite Place: 

The crow’s nest is by far Zoro’s favorite place to fuck you. He actually prefers it to your bed. When he finishes his workout, he likes to sit back and have you ride him before he takes his afternoon nap, working the tension out of his muscles. It’s gross and sticky, and you both end up in the shower together afterwards. Whether the shower leads to a round two depends on how sore he is from his workout because he’ll basically only have shower sex if he’s holding you up against the wall. 

Threesome Headcanons 1: 

You getting drunk and asking an equally inebriated Zoro and Law to join you, fully expecting the swordsman to agree but the captain of the Heart Pirates to scoff. And Law does scoff, before promptly joining both you and Zoro in bed. These two seem so domineering but you’ll actually be able to call the shots if you say, “pretty please,” and pout; they’ll roll their eyes but do whatever you want, so long as you let them between your legs. Jerking Law off while you ride Zoro, sucking Zoro off while Law fucks you from behind, riding Zoro again while Law fucks you in the ass. Hot and heavy, but pretty chill vibe. Will definitely happen again. 

Threesome Headcanons 2: 

Zoro hushing Perona as he brings her naked pussy down on his face, yours already quivering around his aching cock. Zoro breathing a sigh of relief as he finally gets a sense of control over the pink haired pirate, you already on your best behavior like he taught you. Zoro letting Perona lick your pussy after he cums in you, but only if she promises to stop laughing at him when he gets lost around the castle. Zoro fucking Perona while she eats you out, then fucking you again for good measure. 

Threesome Headcanons 3: 

A threesome with Zoro and Sanji would be absolutely exhausting. These two have a nasty habit of turning everything into a competition. Sanji makes you cum once? Zoro has to make you cum twice. Sanji finishes in your mouth? Zoro has to finish in your mouth and cunt. You’ll have to jerk them both off simultaneously when you start to avoid hurting any feelings. Sanji prefers fucking your throat and Zoro prefers your pussy (or your ass), so it does work out in the end. They’ll definitely fight over who gets to hold you in their arms afterward. 

Sex Toys: 

Initially opposed to the idea of toys, doesn’t really understand the point when you have two perfectly good hands. He doesn’t even really like the idea of you using a vibrator on your own (“What, do I not get you off enough?”). He eventually warms up to it, especially once he realizes he can have you hold it to your clit while you ride him or while he fucks you from behind. Ends up having so much fun with this. Always uses a vibrator on your clit if he puts his cock up your ass. Gets pretty into butt plugs, really enjoys seeing the girly pink one that’s shaped like a heart inside your ass while he fucks you from behind. If you propose nipple clamps, he'll happily pull on the chain between. 

Blowjobs: 

Lays back with his hands behind his head and his legs sprawled out, ready to watch you go down on him. So smug, smirks and goads you into taking more of him into your mouth until you’re choking on his length, then pokes fun at you for taking on more than you can handle. "What's wrong? Is daddy's cock too much for your princess mouth? You said you could handle it." You taking more of him into your mouth than you can handle and choking a little is definitely his favorite part. When he’s not teasing you, he’s watching you like a hawk, pushing his hips up a little to get himself deeper down your throat. Is actually really good at holding back his orgasm, which is good because he wants you to go down on him for a while but he also wants to cum inside you, so once your jaw is locked and cramping, he’ll pin you beneath him and fuck his cum into you. 

Playing With Your Nipples: 

Very casual in the way he goes about it. Often lets his intrusive thoughts win when it comes to your tits. If you’re wearing a low-cut shirt or he can see your nipples through the sports bra you’re wearing while the two of you work out together, he’ll reach down your shirt or pull down your bra and play with your nipples. If he sees you in the shower, he will be reaching in to squeeze your tits and pinch your nipples a few times. But he doesn’t often escalate in these scenarios; that’s on you. Really likes having you on top during sex so he can reach up and lazily play with your nipples. 

Mirror Sex: 

Franky put a mirror in the crow’s nest for him so he has it while he works out, and the idea pops into his head one day when you’re up there and bend over to pick something up. It’s not long before he’s pulling his thick cock out and telling you, “be good for daddy.” He puts you on all fours and pushes your head down as he slips into you. Fucking you from behind in front of the mirror gives him the perfect view of your ass, round and jiggling as he ruts into you. And when he tangles his hand in your hair and pulls your head up, he can see the way your eyes roll into the back of your head when he smacks your ass. For your part, you can see the way the muscles in his abdomen ripple as he thrusts his hips, can see how big his hands look on your body, can marvel at his thick biceps while you’re getting railed from behind. Daddy Zoro isn’t one to cum quickly, but he does when he’s fucking you in front of the mirror. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[caustic--soda]

Beyond the Surface of Suo and Sakura’s relationship

**MANGA SPOILER WARNING**

This is my first post on this website, apologies if theres anything incoherent here. This post is also very simplified and lacks some information as I wanted to keep it as concise as possible. If you would like a full-blown analysis about their relationship, do let me know. I may consider making a complete writeup.

Contrary to popular belief about their “lack of interactions”, Suo and Sakura share many important and pivotal moments together scattered across the story. They may not have that big impactful moment compared to other dynamics in WBK (examples being Chika calling Endo by his full name, or Nirei yelling at Sakura in Noroshi, but we’ll get to that later), however they are important to their relationship and for their individual characters. There’s too many to list here, so I will keep it short.

From the start of Wind Breaker, Suo has always teased Sakura; even lying to him when they first meet:

We all know that Suo is a very unserious guy, and this aspect of his character is highlighted the most when it comes to his interactions with Sakura. He constantly pokes fun at him; blatantly lying to him with the sole purpose to mess with him and just being a general tease.

These aren’t even all the instances when Suo does this! I got lazy while compiling images (yes, theres *that* many moments where Suo teases Sakura), but I hope this paints a good perspective.

This makes Sakura thinks of him as “untrustworthy”, in a more lighthearted sense.

Infact, out of anyone else in the cast, Sakura is the only person who actively questions Suo’s character. (I’m not counting Tsugeura because their confrontation was a one time thing)

But here’s the thing: Even if Suo takes advantage of the fact that Sakura is gullible enough to believe anything just so he can mess with him, Sakura still relies on Suo.

He relies on him to come up with a strategic plan for their war, partners with Sugishita despite his initial reluctance, and even follows his advice on how to fight with others people (which works in his favor immensely during the beginning of Noroshi and while he works with Sugishita)

Theres also another moment I’d like to showcase (which is very underrated imo):

Here, we see Sakura taking the support of Suo’s shoulder in order to kick Endo in the face. We also see Suo defending Sakura a few moments ago as well.

Heres’s the thing: Sakura is an arial fighter. He can easily jump to certain heights by himself, much less be able to kick his opponents mid-air. He doesn’t require any support to lift his body upwards.

So why would Sakura do this?

It’s simple: Sakura trusts Suo, whether it be direct or subconsciously. And as his vice captain, Suo also trusts Sakura. Why would he appoint him as class captain if otherwise?

Their mutual trust plays a massive part in their relationship. There are many instances showing this aspect, but for now I will just analyze this iconic scene:

Both Sakura and Suo immediately jump into action in order to protect their friend, Nirei, from any immediate threat (Endo). They exchange no words, only a knowing glance to each other.

I believe that this page shows the essence of their relationship: Despite their petty banter and occasional disagreements, despite how less ‘open’ their relationship is, they are more often on the same wavelength than not.

They care for and trust each other immensely. However, many of their nuances are in hidden between the lines of their relationship due to the guarded nature of characters.

And it is with all these aspects combined that makes the Suo and Sakura duo appealing to many people.

TLDR: Suo and Sakura trust and care for each other a lot, despite their personal shortcomings and Suo incessantly messing with Sakura.

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk. There was so much more I wanted to write about here (such as their flawed perspectives on each other, suo’s perspective on sakura, and how they uplift each other), but unfortunately Tumblr literally refused to upload most of my images and nuked half of this post bc it decided not to save the draft; hence the short analysis. If you have any additional thoughts, feel free to let me know :)

[wihellib]

New Lore/Information from the Christmas Event

Compilation. Some info is small, other info has bigger implications.

Jjyu is not with Belial all the time. He works a normal 9-5 job and then Belial is on his own. Hopefully, Belial doesn’t really need to communicate with people during that time. Or, Ppyong is around to interpret his silence.

This is not that important. I just like the confirmation that, at all times, the devils are subtly and not-so subtly trying to seduce the MC using a bunch of different tactics like wearing tight-fitting clothes, etc.

The way this is phrased makes it seem like Tartaros is the oldest nation. Which is big info and not what I was expecting timeline wise, but maybe I misinterpreted.

Asmo is confirmed to be not just all talk. He will lust after and pursue almost anything and anyone.

Beleth being evasive about his seemingly traumatic fall from grace.

We learned that Achazriel was the first angel ever to become fallen and he leads the Middle Realm between Heaven and Hell that’s full of other fallen angels that are hoping to someday be welcomed back into Heaven.

The rigid hierarchy of heaven is on full display here and how difficult it is to move away from that. Lucifer still commands Beleth like they are back in heaven even though they are both now fallen angels residing in different countries. And, despite Beleth acknowledging this, he still has a very hard time disobeying Lucifer.

First in game sprite of Naberius’ Cerberus form.

This is the biggest info for me to come out of the event. It goes to show you that, despite the event mostly being silly and horny, it is still able to drop massive new info.

Beel's memory issues are not just because of his ADHD or avoidant behaviour. It's because he loses literal pieces of his memory every time he changes form into flies and whenever one of his clones die. It's very sad actually.

Also something may happen between Beel and MC in the future?

One of the angels that tortured Levi when he was young at some point became a fallen angel.

Based on the Seraphim L cards, it doesn't seem like normal halos act like horns. But whether darkened halos do is still up for debate.

I thought that devils couldn't be suspicious? And yet here is Belphie being very suspicious of Lucifer. And I'm surprised it's Belphie of all demons raising these concerns. Since I thought he'd be way too lazy to bother. So, it seems like Belphie is not a big fan of Lucifer.

[cozymochi]

I've been really curious about your OCs for a while, and the ask regarding Silver and Cecil got me wondering, what's Nyoka's relationship with the Savanaclaw trio? I've got a faint idea about what he thinks of Leona though (he's a Leona glazer [simp/j] from what I based on that one answered ask). Sorry if this seems too much or a bother though ✌🏻

This took me a hot minute to compile but I think this is as up to date as I can muster. Featuring lore crumbs. [Majority Under Cut]

Nyoka Relationships

🍩+🫖

Ruggie + Nyoka

Ruggie sees an opportunity to make good money. Y’know, if Nyoka actually took his offers. He’s never met a cobra beastman until Nyoka, and the only thing he ever knew about them is that they live far away, they’re closed off, and RICH.

And this Nyoka guy is the richest out of them all.

Being the little opportunist that he is, Ruggie may sometimes ask Nyoka if he has any jobs he can do. The guy’s loaded, there’s gotta be something, and certainly a nice generous payment to go with it! Ruggie is willing to offer gofer services, anything for a rich up-and-coming lil’ mini celebrity.

Nyoka typically declines these propositions should they come up. He was mostly raised to be self-sufficient and pick up after himself despite his environment.

He might dig around Nyoka’s trash to see if he can scrounge up any valuables. Leona never gives a shit about tossing away perfectly fine things! So, maybe this other super rich guy does the same once in a while.

Besides, It’s not like Ruggie is scared of him to begin with. If Ruggie can handle someone as domineering and lazy as Leona every day, he can handle some stiff and possibly stingy cobra too. (Disclaimer: Only thinks Nyoka is stingy because he won’t let him do work/favors.)

The two are certainly not friends, but they have no issues either.

——

Nyoka doesn’t care for Ruggie personally, but he can understand how a scavenger is essential to pick up what’s left behind.

He mostly keeps his distance, as he would with anybody else. Ruggie is not bad company by any means if they do cross paths, but he would rather not engage. He can kind of sense that Ruggie has ulterior motives and can suss them out pretty quickly.

It should be noted that there are zero hyenas where Nyoka is from. And even outside of Sunset Savanna, hyenas don’t exactly have a great reputation. He never met any until attending NRC. Anything he does know about hyenas is from osmosis, and it is already skewed heavily against them, so he is somewhat guarded im response to that as well.

He did find it unusual that many texts at NRC about the King of Beasts mention hyenas quite a bit. Back home, they aren’t mentioned at all in legends. It’s mainly just reptiles. Curious.

The most Nyoka can do is observe his behavior and put a pin in it. He might carry a small prejudice in the back of his mind.

🐺+🫖

Jack + Nyoka

There isn’t too much to say. Jack doesn’t know Nyoka. In fact, he wasn’t even aware somebody like that was even in his own dorm to begin with for a while. Jack isn’t exactly chummy with the people in Savanaclaw, nor pays attention to what they say. Besides, talking with fists is the better alternative if any of those punks really have something to say to him.

Sometimes the sheer scope of Night Raven College and its student body continues to surprise him.

As far as Jack is aware, he’s never actually seen Nyoka. They don’t run in the same circles. If he has, he probably passed by him without noticing. Considering that Nyoka wants to mostly be missed within the dorm, this is probably ideal.

It’s possible they may eventually run into each other, but it’s hard to gauge if they would get along.

——

On the other hand, Nyoka is at least aware of Jack through osmosis since he appears to have gained some manner of infamy within the dorm. Some of the rougher guys tend to grumble and about how annoying, uppity and goodie-goodie that frosh Wolf Beastman supposedly is.

So, at some point those grumblings would reach Nyoka while he’s lingering around a corner or hear it through the walls. Gossip is not exactly of any interest to him, but he will store it in his system so he knows what to be aware of.

However, being a third-year on a completely different schedule, he and Jack do not normally cross paths at all. He doesn’t know Jack personally, therefore has not formed many strong opinions. He has seen him a few times, as Jack sticks out considerably for a freshman (both in appearance and behavior).

As of now they do not know each other directly. Out of all the main trio, this is the most distant relationship, in that there really isn’t any.

It’s not clear how they would interact. Though, it’s possible Nyoka would find Jack’s manners to just be deplorable due to his more brute way of solving conflict.

🦁+🫖

Leona + Nyoka

(Oh man not the Scar and Ushari of twst. So.)

Leona was already aware of Nyoka beforehand. If tangentially at first.

The royal family used to be in contact with the Wadjets, especially while Leona’s father was still active king, but that friendliness mostly dissolved when changes were made after some incident occurred. But, Leona was a kid when that happened and had nothing to do with him or Nyoka, so it’s mostly irrelevant.

Due to both of their statuses, they have been in attendance at the same events in Sunset Savanna over the years, but never formally met each other until attending NRC.

So when the Dark Mirror assigned Nyoka to Savanaclaw he wasn’t surprised by the choice at all.

He already knew Nyoka is a sole heir and that the Wadjets have direct ties to mining resources in their neck of Sunset Savanna. With this being a shared interest for Leona, having that person in his corner is only a net positive in due time. (Or would be anyhow if he had any say back home.)

Being the perceptive person he is, Leona knows it’s not really in Nyoka’s nature to be around others. Cobras don’t exactly run in packs.

He doesn’t give Nyoka any special treatment or anything, that’s not how this dorm works regardless of species. That being said… if the merciful dorm leader allowed him to clean out one of the junkie vacant rooms just so he could have his own burrow to coil up in, then maybe this studious guy could share some of that book-knowledge with the rest of the dorm once in a while. 😌 Everybody has their place around there.

Of course, he’ll let other students in the dorm prod the cobra, everyone needs a little roughing up every now and then. Thing is: if he bites back that’s on them.

Sometimes he finds Nyoka’s habits eyebrow raising at times, but he doesn’t comment on it. He chalks that up to him just being a cobra or something. It’s not like there’s a ton of those guys back in his neck of the savanna anyway, so what would he know?/s

That aside, It’s nice once in a while to have an actual intellectual person to test his methodical wits with on an equal playing field. Even if that field is mostly a literal impromptu game of chess when the mood strikes.

Leona almost always wins of course, but that cobra manages to keep games just interesting enough to where winning feels like an accomplishment.

——

Nyoka views Leona as Savanaclaw’s “king” just like the vast majority of the dorm does. With Leona actually being a prince he treats him accordingly right down to ONLY referring to him as “your/his highness” and bowing when in his presence. He regards him with courtesy, as one hypothetically should.

(Meanwhile, Leona just calls him “cobra.” Why not, he’s the only one in the whole dorm/school.)

Formalities aside… Nyoka idolizes Leona more than one would think.

He has a fascination with Leona that he’s drawn to like a moth to a flame. To Nyoka, every word and move from Leona is so calculated; with no energy wasted on under-stimulating or inferior matters. Even how he presents himself is an interest. He is fascinated by every single aspect of Leona to the point it almost borders on obsession. Nyoka might be distinctly inexpressive, but when around Leona’s “fire” as he puts it, his thoughts tend to fixate. At least nobody can hear what he’s thinking. There’s a certain atmosphere being in Leona’s presence, and especially when he finally lets out that ferocity.

Whatever Leona were to ask of him, he would be willing to do it so long as it keeps this proverbial “fire” burning. The last thing he would want is for Leona’s fire to burn out entirely. That would be such a shame.

Leona doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.

(Where Nyoka is from, stories of the King of Beasts say his spirit appeared in fire. So maybe that has something to do with it.)

Nyoka does not go out of his way to ever seek out Leona. He only arrives when he is specifically called. Nyoka makes sure that their encounters are meaningful, mainly via their chess matches. This leaves him plenty of time of observe and be a part of those mind games that Leona takes so much pride in.

Regardless, they remain on good terms with each other. Leona is arguably the only person within the dorm that he has any modicum of actual respect towards.

Nyoka can have one uncharacteristic oddity in his mind. As a treat.

[cowboy-robooty]

This is the 5th time im trying to post this damn masterlist. fuck my baka life. It straight up deleted your ask last time my apologies.

i didnt respond for 10 days because it made me so happy to get an ask like this that my little heart ceased to beat so i flopped over and died grandpa on the lazy-boy with a bucket of chicken on his lap style. im ok now tho dont worry. anyways, heres a current compilation of my exceptional itager doujin comics and such (not singular fanarts), although this list hasn't updated in forever since... idk... people don't really scanlate itager comics from pixiv much anymore (>3<) at least not on tumblr since the R-18 ban! I'll put this all under the cut since it'll be a bit long

FULL DOUJINSHI:

Hiraite Musunde Ishuukan! - R (corolla)

This is the best itager doujinshi ever. Hands down. I've never read anything that has topped this it is literally perfect. It's created by overlord R who's only critical fault is that she ships gerita.. but ngl i think she was just born in the wrong time. You'll see a lot more work by her here and i genuinely think that if she was born in an era that didn't push for uke italy she would've been an itager warrior. shes like how a lot of people who aren't racist in this day and age (thank god) would've TOTALLY been super racist 50 years ago (you know what i mean? sometimes you just can tell when you know somebody). Poor R was born in the wrong generation.

Her other doujins are also excellent (found below)

Lettera d’amore - R (corolla)

Very close second to her best one

Gattiino Nante Iwasenai - R (corolla)

This one is also great but I'd say it's only a tinyyy bit more behind the other two because of the knowledge she is a Gerita believer (it spoils the taste of some bits when you think about it). If you ignore her beliefs though this is a just as high quality of Itager doujin as the other two

Temperatur - PB (Neri)

What's this?! A doujin that's improperly sorted on [MANGA SCANLATION SITE] under gerita?! This is Itager LOL you can literally see it on the title and on Otaku Republic its labled as itager as well. Although it has fully proper intentions behind it, it's still not nearly as good as R's above doujinshis or my favorite Itager fanartist (who will come up later in the pixiv comic section). This isn't because it's itager of course (im going to fucking kill you if you go "durhhh its worse because its itager since gerita is supreme") NO. It's because this author isn't willing to keep "it" in their pants! This is a shounen ai but there's still too much eroticism for the sake of sexiness rather than humor which takes away from the critical broship aspect of itager! I have nothing against ero (if you know me im SUPER pro-ero) but yaoi is a science! Erotic scenes are like chilli crisp in a doujinshi... YOU MUST USE THEM PROPERLY OR ELSE IT'LL RUIN THE YAOI INSTEAD OF ENHANCING IT! Also there is pruaus jumpscare which ranks it down for me too.

HONORABLE MENTION

I have two Itager doujinshis I bought off Otaku Republic that have never been scanlated before. They are the last of their kind on the website, so I'm too afraid to tear them open for scanlation. I also don't know how to translate Japanese and it probably would be a nightmare to contact the original authors of these doujins since they're so old... but the art looks so good... especially for strawberry sex. I will make a point to put an effort in this over the summer (if I cannot get permission, then I will translate it for myself and you will need to personally contact me to see the translation, out of respect for the original author).

TRANSLATED PIXIV COMICS:

Before we begin, everybody, please say thank you to yumekotan. I have no clue where you have gone and I think you probably shipped gerita (another case of being born in the wrong generation perhaps), but you have done an incredible service for our world with your scanlations. I will be providing links to yumekotan's tumblr post scanlations for your easy enjoyment and grouping the links by author.

モツ (MY FAVORITE):

this motherfucker is my goat. my on god goat. i think they hate hetalia now or are just average japanese embarassed of their past bc they deleted all their hetalia work and i would literally do anything to put them in a time machine and make them go back to when they liked this shit so i could commission them to make a whole doujinshi with my entire year of part time job pay. Perhaps I'm wrong, since this is all we have left of motsu's legacy in the itager wars, but this is SO freaking itager i think my eyes would start rolling to the back of my skull if i found out they're another gerita victim of the era. because almost everybody else on this motherfucking post is a victim to being born in the wrong generation, but they do have comics and fanarts that show symptoms of their gerita truth aids (and the comic gets really weird or bad suddenly when it kicks in like you can pinpoint it). Motsu has never faltered. And whats even more impressive is that this is absolutely canon. The best itager doujinshi by R is incredible and perfect because it's exactly canon, but I think that motsu takes it a step further by being able to create mundane comics that still have the same level of canon atmosphere. I'll admit that R's best Itager doujin relies on sticking close to things himaruya has already written to keep it standing strong. Motsu doesnt give a single fuck. bro said no pads no helmet no condom we whip out dick out in the wind raw and see who gets pregnent. and it turned out himaruya did because these comics are absolutely perfect they are a true extension of the real webcomic itager which i think i have a SUPER SUPER long way to go until i can get there. (at this point I kind of embrace that my itager is colored in the way my way of writing and humor is, but that is because i draw itager for fun too much these days due to heavy school and work. my career is studying classical #true webcomic himaruya style itager which requires actual skill).

R (corolla):

These above three are very good quality R pixiv comics (going from best (top) to great (bottom))

^ Good tier comic. nothing excellent but nothing bad in its flavor

The below four are itager comics I would consider OK, but they have some form of gerita AIDS that causes it to be a bit unpleasant to eat (to varying degrees, going from OK (top) to what is this gay shit <- derogetory (bottom)). R was born in the wrong generation... and it really starts showing how the environment influenced them to add some really bad components to their version of the ship

^[This comic seems to have problems, so click this LINK to see it]

To clarify, none of these are absolutely terrible awful "killed my grandma" kind of things. All of these comics compared to the average gerita comic are WONDERFUL. But if we are looking at it alone without the context of the gerita invasion our world is suffering from, these OK-bad tier comics do have key components wrong with them. If anyone is interested I suppose I can make another post annotating what is wrong with these comics, but I feel like that is unnecessary and a bit cruel considering R doesn't seem interested in the ship anymore. Sometimes people live and die in the wrong era, and you must acknowledge their faults, but still be understanding of the situation they were in.

Hakoniwa:

^[This comic also seems to have problems, so click this LINK to see it]

If you've read all the English translated doujins for this ship floating around online, you probably recognize this author and are surprised this is here! Yes, they have a billion jillion gerita doujins and i hate all of them LOL. But this one pixiv comic is the one time they got something right. Hakoniwa seems to have this problem that (aside from gerita... although I think this is a symptom of having gerita aids) they make this ship way too emotional in an angsty sadness manner! I understand that their focus is that they prefer exploring the emotional depth of ships rather than making humorous situations, but they're doing it all wrong! (this isn't even to mention how I think that humor and emotional depth are things that can exist side by side; even complimenting each other if executed properly....) I feel like people get the idea with ships that sadness/angst = depth, which is untrue. emotional components that twist your heart around and bring you to tears can come from sad AND happy things, it just seems to be that it's much harder to execute with happiness. People think angst and fluff are opposite things when really, they're two sides of the same coin, with both of them being done terribly most often LOL. I don't consider myself someone who likes fluff or angst at all actually, because it seems that when people describe something as either of those things, neither of them provoke the feeling im supposed to have. I think that with itager, it has lots of depth in its emotional components, but these components are made of things that make you feel so heartwarmed that you could cry. This comic does not reach that level, but it is for once an emotional comic that Hakoniwa gets RIGHT. This is canon compliant. This is something that would happen. This is ITAGER!

FANFICTION:

There is no good itager fanfiction. There is very few mid ones. maybe one or two OK/almost good ones. but no solid good ones. and this is coming from a guy who spent the last 6 years scouring ao3 and fanfiction dot net. In my opinion, hetalia fandom has this wretched curse that it will uniquely be the only fandom with so much fanfiction with none of it being good. Good hetalia fanfiction does not exist for Itager and Romapru. For other ships maybe, but at least for the two I'm into hell No. Everytime I come back to ao3 it just leaves me upset and unsatisfied like that stripper that i KNOW doesn't actually love me and just wants my money, but I keep coming back hoping shell change her mind. NEWS FLASH! SHE WONT!! SHE JUST NEEDS TO PAY HER BILLS THIS MONTH!

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Hidekaz Himaruya:

Webcomic Kitayume era. Basically anything before the World Stars serialization. I often reread this era whenever I'm feeling like I want to consume some itager

Hetalia (anime - Studio Deen):

Seasons 1-4 (APH to World Series... in other words before the artstyle changed.) + bits and pieces of beautiful world are good (but some are BAD... LOOKS AT THAT ONE SCENE THEY ADDED THAT I FUCKING HATE).

Bloody Moimoi:

I'm not a bloody moimoi expert, but of course I've read their doujins how could i not. They have pieces of real goodness in them, but basically all of their work is R-18, so of course the gerita aids is too much for my palate to handle. I'll take a closer examination at them if somebody asks me to, but for now I'd say if you haven't read their work yet you should, since during their non R-18 scenes I remember theres some good parts, but the R-18 totally kills my boner *cries*

IN CONCLUSION:

I hope this was helpful!! I'm SO HAPPY I GOT THIS ASK WWWWW IM SOOOO HAPPY EEEEK EEEK EEEEEEK SQUEE IM SO HAPPY TO TALK ABOUT ITAGER THANK YOU GUYS. I LOVE ITAGER I LOVE TALKING ABOUT IT I LOVE IT I LOVEEEE IT AUGHAKSDJF *BLEEDS FROM EYES*. This isn't itager connected at all, but you should read Killer Crush (manhwa) if you like Itager. To me Killer Crush is as close as an independent completely unrelated manhwa can get to being an Itager AU. Seriously. To me it's an itager au ngl and in the ranks of my absolute favorite comics. 10/10 read it. it's a nicotine patch.

[yzzart]

"One of the best things about this movie is getting to work with you."

★ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒! ⤵

✩ ‧₊˚ #between white sheets. → a lazy morning with your boyfriend after a long night.

✩ ‧₊˚ #a revelation between songs. → you, Tom and Rachel had an idea to create playlists for your characters.

✩ ‧₊˚ #"This suits me better." → Tom and you wear the same jacket and it doesn't go unnoticed by your fans.

✩ ‧₊˚ #An unplanned situation. → a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.

✩ ‧₊˚ #"Oh, hello, Vogue!" → invited by Vogue, you and Tom participate in a famous panel about answering quick questions.

✩ ‧₊˚ #"Just married, according to fans." → you and Tom look like an elderly married couple, say your fans and the rest of the cast.

✩ ‧₊˚ #"Watching the snowflakes." → you and tom enjoy some free time at winter camp.

✩ ‧₊˚ #An unfair test. → do you, Rachel and Josh, really, know Tom?

✩ ‧₊˚ #"According to fan questions..." → invited for another interview, you and Tom answer some questions that fans asked you.

✩ ‧₊˚ #almost caught. → after you and Tom assumed your relationship, your fans carefully observe every detail of all of your interviews.

✩ ‧₊˚ #day off, and just enjoy! → you and Tom try to enjoy your free time with each other's company and competing against each other.

✩ ‧₊˚ #behind an actress's gallery. → what do you keep in your gallery?

✩ ‧₊˚ #"Oh, the lovebirds." → another compilation between you and tom? we have!

✩ ‧₊˚ #"A peculiar moment." → at an event and being the host, Tom interviews the first person of the night, you.

✩ ‧₊˚ #"Definitely an old couple." → your fans are obsessed with compilations of you and tom being an old married couple.

[teapartyprincess4two]

Could you write about a random morning with Matt as his girlfriend? Sorry if I not making any sense.

Your writing is amazing!!! Have a wonderful day!!!

A Cold Sunday- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Girlfriend!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, slight cursing, established relationship, a lot of dialogue, very short

inspiration: request^^, A Cold Sunday by Lil Yachty, just the title mostly

summary: You and Matt spend a cold Sunday morning together, snuggling up and keeping warm.

—

Every day of the week was chock full of activities for both you and Matt. Whether it be work, appointments, events, or daily chores; you two rarely had time together during the week. Even Saturdays were hectic for you both, you’d usually only get a few hours together before bed before one of you dozed off.

That’s why you loved Sundays, they were the only day neither you worked and you always made sure never to schedule anything on those days.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Matt croaks from beside you, a lazy arm wrapped around your waist from under the comforter. “Good morning, baby,” you reply, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead.

“How did you sleep?” you ask, his eyes closing once again as the drowsiness settles back in. “Mmm good,” he hums, nuzzling into your chest slightly.

“That’s good, baby.”

You’re playing with his hair, your mind filling with ideas of what to do throughout the day. The possibilities were endless, especially because your only responsibility was to have fun with Matt.

“What do you wanna do today? We can go to the flea market, go eat some breakfast, or maybe we can try that new coffee shop,” you say in excitement, your cheery tone being too much for Matt this early in the morning.

“What about the mall? The mall could be fun. Ooo what if we have a picnic? We haven’t done that in so long,” you continue, subconsciously braiding strands of his hair as you compile a list of possible activities.

“It’s cold,” he murmurs, the statement being followed by a soft yawn.

Yawns are infectious, causing you to yawn shortly after. “Yeah, you’re right,” you reply, the yawn making it sound more like a roar.

“We can still do stuff…” he trails off, pulling away from you slightly to look at your face. You smile at him, you’re just happy to be spending time with him. “But we can stay in?” Matt suggests, loving the idea of a cozy day in.

You hum in response, already anticipating the cozy day ahead.

—

“Hurry, Matt! I’m cold!” you exclaim, lifting the comforter up so he can hop back into bed. “I can’t! The hot chocolate is gonna spill!” he shouts back, panicking as he tries balancing both mugs so none of the liquid spills over.

You groan playfully, scooting to the edge of the bed and reaching for a mug, “here let me help you, you goof.” He chuckles at the nickname, carefully handing you a mug, “be careful, it’s hot.”

“I know, I’m smart.”

You sip the hot chocolate, trying to prevent it from spilling, but the scorching liquid has you pulling away immediately, “Fuck! That’s hot!”

“I just said that,” Matt chuckles, getting comfortable under the covers and pressing play on the movie you two were previously watching. “Shush, it’s good,” you murmur, going back for a second sip.

You settle back against the headboard, sipping occasionally as you watch the movie. Matt blows on his hot chocolate, afraid to burn himself like you did.

He blows on it hard enough for the liquid to spill over the cup. “Oh fuck. I spilled it,” Matt says blankly, looking at you as he tries not to laugh.

—

“Why was that movie so sad?” Matt sniffles, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. You’ve seen the movie a million times before and each time Matt has the same reaction.

“Babe, you know how it ends. How does it still make you cry?” you ask, chuckling slightly at his dramatic behavior.

“Y/n, don’t be so heartless,” he replies, looking at you as if you’re some type of monster. “How does it still not make you cry?”

You take a sip from your hot chocolate, fighting the laughter. “It’s really not that sad,” you say, taking a hold of the remote to find your next watch of the day.

“YES IT IS!”

“Matt, it’s Toy Story.”

“AND? HE WAS JUST A FORK!”

—

You’ve laid in bed with Matt all day, and although you haven’t waisted any energy, you’re really hungry.

“Just order pizza,” you suggest, resting your head on Matt’s shoulder as he orders the food on his phone. “I don’t want pizza though,” he replies, scrolling through DoorDash in search of the next best option.

“Chinese food?” you ask, your stomach grumbling at the suggestion. “Neh, too greasy.”

“Okay, what about Cane’s?”

“Not in the mood for chicken,” he replies, exhausting all his options.

“In N Out?”

“We had burgers last Sunday,” Matt finds an excuse to turn down all of your suggestions. “Just get whatever you want,” you mumble, becoming hangrier by the second.

He stays silent for a while, searching relentlessly for something appetizing, but he can’t find anything.

“I’m just gonna order pizza,” he finally comments.

“Bruh.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Just a short story about a goofy morning with Matt. Enjoy, luv u. Longer stories coming soon, they are COOKING!

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[pneumaticshift]

I just read the latest chapter of BLP!! SO GOOD. Hal’s quiet resignation is such a mood haha. He’s in it for the long haul, unfortunately. It also made me think of a prompt if you’re interested.

What if established batlantern featured a Hal that was a master guilt tripper? I feel like the bats are so emotionally repressed that open emotion or, dare I say, even open crying from Hal would immediately give him an upper hand against most of them.

Now who could fuck up enough in the family that the normally chill Hal would use this power for evil? Who’s to say haha.

Love your stuff! Hope you’re having a good day :)

Ahh, thank you so much!! Really glad you're enjoying it.

I had a lot of fun with your prompt. I feel like Hal's not much of a dick to be emotionally manipulative for big serious things, but he'd definitely use it to be the petty little shit he was always destined to be. I hope you like it 💚💚🦇

———

Jason liked to limit his time in the manor, mostly because he didn’t want Bruce to get the wrong idea. The last thing he needed was the old man to think he was on the verge of some grand, heartfelt return to the family. He certainly wasn’t planning on moving back in or, god forbid, partaking in some kind of formal reinstatement into the fold. 

No, obviously Jason wasn’t here out of any sense of comfort. It was all strictly practical. Maybe his safehouse had a busted boiler. Maybe his internet was out. Maybe Gotham was just particularly miserable tonight and he still hadn’t fixed the window in his apartment.

Then again, there was something about the quiet hum of the Batcomputer that made his shoulders loosen just a fraction. Not that he’d ever acknowledge it, out loud or otherwise. He leaned back in his chair, boots propped up on the console just to annoy Bruce in absentia. Jason planned to be gone way before the old man came back from whatever corner he was brooding in, but Jason liked to believe he’d feel a vague sense of irritation by proxy. 

He wasn’t staying, obviously. He’d just come to borrow some gear. A few upgrades, maybe a couple of batarangs. Not because he needed them, but because stealing from Bruce had always been a real satisfying hobby. Sure, he might have taken a detour to the library to swipe a few of Bruce’s first editions, too. One of them had even been bookmarked, which made it infinitely more enjoyable to take.

Now he was sprawled out in front of the Batcomputer, making a dent in some leftover sesame chicken straight from the container. He didn’t know who’s it was, but Batfamily law decreed that if it had been in the fridge for more than a day, then it was fair game. 

Jason had been in the middle of watching a blurry video compilation of Cursed Gotham Sightings — which included at least three separate clips of himself when he was still running about in his more homicidal phase, and one video of Bruce eating shit after his grapple broke — when the Batcave’s security gave a low, lazy chime. That meant someone with clearance had entered. Which, in turn, meant that Jason didn’t have to shoot them. A shame, really. 

He barely had enough time to decide on his excuse for being there when Hal Jordan floated in like he belonged. 

And, okay, technically he did these days, and that was something Jason was still struggling to wrap his head around. Hal had been dating Bruce for a while now, long enough that Jason stopped expecting it to be some elaborate prank or an undercover operation that Bruce had neglected to inform the family about.

Somehow, against all logic, rhyme or reason, the Green Lantern actually wanted to spend time with Bruce. Voluntarily. Without, like, an ulterior motive. And Jason had yet to determine if that meant Hal had some kind of latent head injury or if he just really enjoyed the suffering that came with a man who’d rather break a bone than express any kind of positive emotion. 

Hal took one look at Jason, then at the takeout box in his hand. "Is that my sesame chicken?”

Jason paused mid-bite and very deliberately glanced down at the takeout box. There was a smudge of sauce on the lid, a logo he hadn’t bothered to look at before, and something suspiciously close to Hal’s name scrawled on the side in what was probably Alfred’s neat handwriting.

He looked back up at Hal. “...Dunno. Might be.” And then, because committing to the bit was a family trait, he popped the chicken in his mouth and chewed nonchalantly. 

Green Lantern was well known for deliberately being a dick when the situation called for it, so Jason had been expecting some pushback. He’d seen the guy bicker with Bruce enough times that it was fairly reasonable to assume Hal would at least attempt some petty retribution. At the very least some half-assed back-and-forth that would pass the time before Jason inevitably got bored and left.

He really, really didn’t expect for Hal’s entire body to slump mid-air. Hal just, like…deflated. His shoulders hunched, his mouth opened a little like he didn’t know how to continue, and his mask fizzled away so Jason could see the very specific kind of disappointment that would’ve been more apt on a kid that just got its favourite toy taken away. Hal blinked and his feet drifted down to the ground with all the enthusiasm of a man being lowered into his own grave. 

“Oh,” Hal whispered, his voice so alarmingly soft. “Oh, okay.”

Jason panicked. This wasn’t in the script. This wasn’t how arguments were supposed to go. He could handle a petty quarrel or a physical altercation, but this… this was new, and Jason really didn’t like where this was going. 

And Hal just stood there. He wasn’t exactly a short guy, but he suddenly looked so small. He was radiating wounded sorrow and his eyes — god, his eyes. They looked moist. Not quite full-on tears, but the kind of damp, glossy sheets that made it very clear that Hal could cry if he wanted to. 

Jason felt a cold sweat start to form. He couldn’t handle tears. 

“Uh…” he started, shifting uncomfortably. “Are you—”

“No, no.” Hal waved him off, his voice too steady. Like he was holding something back. “I get it. It’s fine. I just…”

“Dude. It’s just chicken…”

“Was chicken,” Hal corrected tiredly, looking deeply, viscerally wounded. “Was mine. And now it’s—-” He cut himself off and inhaled sharply like even saying it was too much. His head shook slightly, eyes fluttering shut like he was physically stopping himself from falling apart right then and there. Jason had seen people die with less drama. “It’s gone,” Hal finally whispered.

“...I don’t—”

Hal let out another long, shuddering sigh and he tilted his head back to gaze up at the ceiling. “I thought you were different,” he continued, almost to himself. “I believed in you.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Serious?” Hal let out a humourless laugh and he looked back at Jason, eyes filled with pain. Jesus Christ, was he being legitimate right now? Jason felt something foreign and incredibly uncomfortable curl in his chest. Guilt. Actual guilt. Over takeout. This was not his natural state of being. “Jason, I dreamed about that chicken.”

“Oh my God—” “I held on,” Hal continued, placing a fist dramatically over his chest. “Through asteroid fields. Through alien war zones. Through deep, endless space.” He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering shut again. “And I told myself, ‘One more day. One more patrol. And when I get back home, when I finally, finally touch down, it’ll be waiting for me. Warm. Safe. Loved.’” His voice cracked on that last word. “You’re messing with me, right? You’re not actually…upset about this, right?”

Hal made a wounded noise. “I trusted you man,” he murmured, just loud enough for Jason to hear. And those were exactly the words that always made him crumble, because trust was such a beautiful, sad commodity in his life. Hal proceeded to make it even worse by slamming the final nail in the coffin. “I thought we were family.”

And god-fucking-damnit, that was what broke him. 

Jason clenched his hands into fists around his chopsticks. This was a setup. He knew this was a setup. Hal Jordan simply didn’t break down over something a stupid as food. He didn’t break down, period. The guy had dealt with way too much shit in his life to let takeout dictate his emotional state. 

But Hal looked so goddamn broken. He just stood there with his chest barely rising with each soul-crushing sigh, and his big hazel eyes were dim and devastated. He looked like Jason had personally ripped his heart out and stomped on it. And that was dangerous.

Because Jason was used to the cold. He was used to the sharp blue eyes of his family and the way their gaze straight up cut. His dad — uh, Bruce (goddamnit) and his brothers had disappointment that was quiet and knife-like, slicing just deep enough to leave a scar. He knew how to brace against that, knew how to fight against it. 

Hal wasn’t cut from the same cloth as the family, though. Hal didn’t cut. He ached. His disappointment was soft, open, an exposed wound bleeding out realtime, and Jason didn’t know how to deal with that. 

“It’s just takeout, man,” he tried weakly in one last ditch attempt at retaining some kind of control of the situation. 

“You don’t get it,” Hal murmured, shaking his head. His voice was quiet. Too quiet.

And Jason was apparently a weak fucking man, because he hissed an impassioned “Fuck you,” under his breath, and shoved himself away from the Batcomputer so violently that the chair nearly toppled over. He stormed out of the room before he could let Hal see just how much he’d won.

Exactly twenty-seven minutes later, he came back. He shoved a fresh box of sesame chicken onto the console, slamming it down with force. If he was doing this, he was gonna do it petulantly. 

“There,” Jason growled. “Happy now?”

Hal, now lounging on the chair and watching the compilation videos Jason had left open on the Batcomputer, didn’t even flinch. He just blinked at the box, tilted his head a little, and then — then, like he hadn’t just emotionally manipulated Jason into doing his dark bidding, grinned brightly. 

“Oh, sweet, thanks, buddy,” he said casually, already opening the lid and digging around for the chopsticks.

Jason stared at him. He just...stared. Mute, disbelieving, a little put in his place. 

When did he become so easy to manipulate? How in the hell had he let this happen? More importantly, why — why, why?? — was a small, twisted part of him actually impressed by the gall of this bastard. Jason kind of wanted to fight him.

Hal, chuckling at a grainy video of Batman falling out of a window, barely even acknowledged his crisis. He just hummed happily around a mouthful of chicken, clicked through another video on the Batcomputer, and without looking up, said, “So, you staying for dinner or not?”

Jason opened his mouth. Then he closed it. Sighed deeply. And, so completely resigned, he muttered, “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”