#once again thank you so much for the ask!!

[pathologicalreid]

xoxo | s.r.

in which your daughter goes to the BAU to hand out her extra Valentines

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: horrible tooth rotting fluff, chemist!reader and leah, the spencer reid dilf agenda, valentine's day, reader wears pink (it's FESTIVE) word count: 1.47k a/n: happy valentine's day my loves!!!!

You had just finished helping your daughter put her visitor badge over her head before she proudly approached the two agents manning the security desk.

She brandished two Valentine’s Day cards for them, grinning while they looked down at her in surprise. You watched them tentatively take the cardstock from your three-year-old while she teetered back and forth in her pink Mary Janes. They thanked her while you pulled your visitor badge on. “C’mon, Leah,” you said, holding your hand out for her to take, “Let’s go see Daddy.”

“Daddy!” She chirped, her pure, childhood joy causing people in the lobby to stare. Most people were already vaguely aware of who she was, and even if they weren’t, it’s difficult to be truly bothered by a kid wearing heart antennae. Adjusting her grip on her basket of Valentines, she led you to the elevator, practically dragging you through Quantico.

Her hand couldn’t quite reach the button in the elevator, accidentally hitting the number four while wavering on her tippy toes. “Here, lovey,” you said, reaching over her and pushing the number six for her.

Leah beamed up at you. “Thank you,” she whispered, lowering herself and standing next to you, tugging on your pink sweater in an attempt to get your attention—as if she had ever lost it. “You wanna Valentine?” Her voice was soft, as if you were exchanging state secrets in the elevator, sweetly leaning her head against your leg. She stumbled over the name of the holiday a bit, replacing the second ‘n’ with an ‘m.’

“I’ll get one after everyone else,” you reassured her, adjusting her headband and smiling at the way the hearts bobbled.

She nodded confidently, making faces at her reflection in the elevator doors as you continued your way up.

You held your breath as the doors opened, once again holding your hand out for her to take so you could enter the bullpen in an orderly fashion, but as soon as they were open, she had taken off, the door being held open for someone else, leaving a perfect gap for her to slip through. There was barely enough time for you to call, “Incoming,” before she ran directly into Luke.

Thanking Anderson for holding the door for you, you followed Leah into the bullpen at a much slower pace and locked eyes with your husband, sighing in relief at the fact that you’d made it with little stress.

Your daughter had already been rescued from a room full of tall people by Dave, who’d hoisted her onto someone’s desk, so they were nearly at eye level. “Happy Valentime’s, Dave,” she said excitedly, urgently rifling through her basket to find a treat that she deemed worthy of his receipt.

Rossi smiled at her, “Happy Valentine’s Day, kiddo. What have you got there?” You weren’t sure if he was faking interest for the sake of your toddler, but either way, you were grateful for the opportunity to sneak by them, approaching Spencer’s desk.

He powered off his computer monitor as you leaned on the edge of his desk. “Hey,” he greeted, leaning his head up so you could plant a quick kiss on his lips. “Did she have fun?”

You nodded, peeking over your shoulder to see Dave walking Leah around to hand out Valentines to the entire office. “We severely underestimated the number of parents who keep their kids home for Valentine’s Day,” you informed him. Leah’s daycare class had been nearly empty when you picked her up early.

“What does that mean for us?” He asked, placing his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze.

Raising your eyebrows, you grinned impishly, “It means we’re bringing a lot of lollipops home with us.”

Spencer chuckled, eyes following Leah as she made her way to Emily’s office, jumping up the steps and giggling at the sound effects that Tara made when she landed. “How was your morning?” He asked nonchalantly, and since nothing Spencer ever did was nonchalant, you knew he was on a fishing expedition.

The corners of your mouth quirked up while he shuffled the papers on his desk, preparing to spend his lunch with you and Leah. “Oh, I dropped Leah off and then went to work. I only had one class to teach, Physical Chemistry, as you know. I had some time before I needed to be back at the daycare, so I decided to stop at home and found a large bouquet of red and pink roses on the kitchen counter. They didn’t belong there, so I tossed them in the trash before heading here.”

“You did not,” Spencer challenged, grinning up at you, pushing his tongue against his teeth like he did when he was holding in a laugh.

You laughed breathily, hiding your smile behind your hand until Spencer reached up and took your hand in his. “No,” you acquiesced, “But I have no idea where we’re going to put two dozen roses.”

He pretended to think about it for a moment. “How about the kitchen counter?”

Humming, you leaned down to kiss him again. “Works for me,” you murmured to him on your way back up. You turned your head to find your toddler, seeing that Penelope had made her way to the bullpen and was putting a red feather boa around Leah’s neck.

Listening in on their conversation, you frowned when you overheard Leah complaining that the boa wasn’t pink. “Leah,” Spencer called her name, having overheard the conversation himself. “What do you say to Aunt Penelope?”

The three-year-old spun around, stumbling a bit when she tried to come to a stop, before looking up at Garcia and jumping, “Thank you! Matches my butterfly ears!” She fumbled the word ‘butterfly’ a bit in all of her excitement—bubberfly.

Your husband looked at you, confused. “Butterfly ears?”

“Antennae, obviously,” you told him, shaking your head in faux disappointment that he didn’t understand what she was talking about.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Hey, princess, c’mere,” he said, waving over your daughter.

You waved to JJ and Emily as they joined the impromptu gathering, with everyone in the bullpen watching while Leah skipped over to her dad. “Hi, Daddy,” she greeted, lifting her arms for him to pick her up, which he did happily.

“Hi, baby. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he replied, sweeping a stray strand of hair from her forehead. He’d left before you got her dressed this morning, so he hadn’t been able to see her in her festive outfit, complete with a pink and red tutu.

Comfortably sitting in her father’s lap, she giggled when he tickled her side. “Happy Valentime’s Day, Daddy,” she managed to squeak out. Sighing when he finally gave her a break, she asked, “Lunch?”

You smiled softly, “Soon, lovey.” The three of you had planned to do lunch as a family, and Penelope had promised to take Leah for a sleepover so you could go out for dinner—you were nervous, and she was thrilled.

She kicked her feet contentedly, telling Spencer about the cards she had given away at the security desk in a hushed voice while you watched an exchange across the bullpen. Luke was leaning toward Tara, holding his lollipop in his hand, “What flavor did you get?”

Tara peered at him suspiciously. “Blue raspberry,” she replied.

“I’ll trade you a green apple,” he offered, extending his arm out for the swap.

Turning in her chair, Tara scoffed, setting her Valentine on her desk, “Not a chance.”

A small gasp to your side caught your attention. “No trades, Newbie!” Leah shouted from her perch.

Instead of turning on your daughter, Luke immediately pointed at Garcia, “You coached her!”

Penelope feigned offense, holding a hand to her chest and looking around the bullpen, “It is my duty as her godmother to warn her against certain people.”

“Meaning me?”

“If the shoe fits, Newbie,” Penelope replied, leaning against a vacant desk while she awaited Luke’s response.

He looked over at Leah now. “How did she even hear me?”

You shrugged. “She has freakishly good hearing; we’re thinking of having her tested.”

Spencer nudged you at your joke, smiling slightly, “She saw you.”

Sighing in defeat, Luke gave Leah an exaggerated pout, “I’m sorry I tried to make a trade. Can you forgive me?”

Leah nodded with a toothy smile. Luckily, she was three, and things were easy to get over. “Hey, do I get a Valentine?” Spencer asked, playing with the hearts on her headband.  

Humming, she shifted on his lap. “Mommy put all of the pink ones in a baggie for us.”

You flashed a grin back at your husband, pulled a Watermelon lollipop out of your purse, and handed it to him. “I’m very good at what I do.”

[philosians]

ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ

a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.

[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha

word count: roughly 4.8k

The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.

At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.

“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”

“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.

“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”

You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.

After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.

You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.

You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.

Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.

You just wish you knew where you were going.

“Is this it?”

“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”

Oh, already?

True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.

A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?

Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”

The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”

Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.

“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”

Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”

Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”

You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.

“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”

You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.

You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”

You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.

“Always.”

Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.

“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.

Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”

Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.

He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.

“Dinner should be ready.”

You grin. “You brought your chef?”

“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.

You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.

Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.

“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”

Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”

You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”

Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”

His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.

“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.

“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”

The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.

“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”

You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”

But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.

You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.

“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.

You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.

Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.

“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”

He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.

While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.

As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.

He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.

Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.

“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”

The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.

“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”

“It might’ve been,” you tease.

As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.

“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.

He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”

As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.

“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.

His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.

Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.

“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”

Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.

And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.

He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.

When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.

You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”

Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.

You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.

“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”

You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.

You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.

“Impatient?”

“Like you aren’t,” you remark.

Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…

You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.

His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—

Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”

—goddamn it you need it inside of you.

Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.

Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.

You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.

“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”

“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”

Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.

“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”

There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.

Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.

“Sylus?”

“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”

The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.

“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.

He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.

“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”

The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”

All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.

“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.

You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”

His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”

And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”

“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”

“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.

“Well?”

“I, uh— A baby.”

At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.

“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”

His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.

“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”

“It was… just a thought.”

He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.

“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”

Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.

Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.

When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”

You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.

And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.

“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”

He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”

At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.

Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.

Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.

It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”

Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.

“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.

Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.

“With me?”

Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.

“And no one else.”

The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.

Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.

Of course he would.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.

“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.

You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.

“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.

“I wish they would— Sylus!”

A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”

Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”

“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.

Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.

“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”

Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”

Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.

You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”

The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.

Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.

“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.

“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”

“Renovations? For what?”

He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”

Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?

“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.

“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.

You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.

“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”

You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.

What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.

To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.

But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.

And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.

[pellucid-constellations]

Yes!! Bucky drabble pleaseeee. Soft!bucky!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 800

Warnings: Broken bones, this is just fluff and a fave trope of mine

a/n: Here's a little fun one <3

~~

“Yeah, thanks,” Bucky grunted out, bending his knees as you hung off his neck and giggled to yourself. The doctor was talking so much and you clearly needed to sit down. “I think we got it, doc. I’ll bring her back next week to check the break once the swelling’s gone down.” 

He said a few more things about pain medications and infections and Bucky fought an eye roll because there was no way in hell he’d let you get an infection. 

“Right, and how long is she going to be like… this?” Bucky asked when there was a pause in the never-ending surge of information. You gasped into his ear, standing straight up. 

“That was rude,” you chastised. You attempted to unwind yourself from him, but the cast on your arm impeded your ability to dramatically cast yourself away. 

Bucky turned from the doctor to catch your bleary, narrowed gaze. “Didn’t mean it in a bad way, honey.” 

You scoffed, bringing your hand up to his jaw. “I want a smoothie.” 

Bucky returned his gaze to the doctor, brows raised. 

“Should only be a couple of hours at most. If you get her sleeping, it will wear off faster.” 

Bucky appreciated the good news from the doctor, but as he attempted to shove you into his truck, the few-hour estimate was excruciating.

“Please. I love you, but you have to listen to me and get in the car. I can get you a smoothie once we leave, sweetheart.”

“Are you married?” you asked in an accusatory fashion, eyes once again narrowed. 

Bucky paused at that, hands on his hips as you stood your ground in front of his car. “Uh, yeah,” he answered. “My wive’s a real piece of work sometimes, I’ll tell you that much.” 

You laughed at him, the sound sardonic and curt. “I knew it. You keep calling me sweetheart and honey and you had your hands all over me.” You threw your hands up. Bucky winced as your broken one flung in the air. “I’m sure your wife wouldn’t appreciate that very much, would she? But what can I expect from a man?” 

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, his expression softening as you continued to glare at him. “Thank you for looking out for my wife. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure she would,” you seethed. 

“Yeah, I love her a whole lot. Nice to know other people appreciate her.” 

“Nice way of showing it, you creep.” 

Bucky fought back a smile, not wanting to mock your sincere anger. He stood a few feet away from you in the parking lot as you stared him down, your back pressed against his truck in defiance. You wouldn’t get in because you thought he was trying to cheat on his wife. You were his wife, but he couldn’t blame you for not making the connection. He always considered you way out of his league. 

“Do me a favor?” Bucky asked, a laugh lodging in his throat at the way you scoffed. He slid your phone from his front pocket and held it out in front of him. He didn’t miss the way you eyed his wedding band in distaste. “Call your friend for me—Wanda, I think it was. She can pick you up.” 

You ripped the phone from his hand, making a show of pressing your finger to the screen aggressively (which Bucky again flinched at because—broken arm), when you abruptly paused. You looked at your phone screen and back at Bucky several times, the disorientation more prevalent on your face without the anger taking over. 

“Is this me?” you asked, words more slurred. 

Bucky began inching forward, eager to get you in the car as your body started catching up to the mind-numbing pain medications you were currently on. He spoke as you kept your eyes glued to your phone.

“Uh huh. You married me. Crazy, isn’t it?” 

“Huh,” you breathed out. “Sorry, then.” 

Bucky didn’t hide his laugh this time. He caught your waist as you started to sag further into the truck, guiding your head into his shoulder, the lovesick expression on his face only for the side view mirror to see. 

“S’alright,” he comforted. “Still mad at me?”

“Probably not. You’re my husband.” 

“Guess you can decide when you wake up.” 

You hummed in response, Bucky taking the opportunity to unlock the car and slide you into the passenger seat. Once the seatbelt was firmly across your chest, he kept his hand on the headrest and leaned closer to your mused face. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your cheek, sharing a private smile with no one as you scrunched your face up. “Sorry, sorry—forgot you just met me.” He gave your chin a soft tap and shut the door, jogging to the other side before mumbling to himself. “Married for five years but whatever.” 

[y3sterdaysproblem]

★ matt loves talking you through it ★

“there’s my good girl.”

matt’s sweet voice filled the air in his bedroom as he stared down at you from where he was propped on his elbow next to you, eyes locked on your face while his fingers moved inside you.

you were fully naked on his bed, legs spread wide for him to have easy access to your drooling pussy. he loved the way you surrendered your body to him, letting him have full access to you whenever he wanted, knowing he’d do everything he could just to see your pretty face twisted up in pleasure.

matt’s two middle fingers slid in and out of you languidly as to drag out the feeling as opposed to rushing it and getting you off as quickly as possible. matt liked to take his time, liked to listen to you for as long as you’d let him until you got too antsy and were begging him to make you cum.

“does it feel good?” he asked you in almost a coo, smiling when your head nodded quickly. your eyes were clenched shut and your hands gripped at the sheets beneath you, the only sound leaving your lips being a trail of whimpers with every exhale. “use your words, baby. you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“don’t stop,” you rasp out instantly, reaching one of your hands up to grab onto his shirt. you turn your head to face him and open your eyes as much as you can, locking onto his bright blue ones that were already on you. “please don’t stop, feels so good.”

“hmm, I dunno, i’m not convinced,” matt hums, slowing the movement of his fingers. “no!” you cry, grinding your hips down onto the digits buried deep inside you. “please, daddy, need to cum.”

“that’s better,” matt grins at your desperation, feeling his stomach coil at the way your pretty voice begged him to continue. the sound of you pleading for him to do absolutely anything was something he could listen to forever.

he picked up the pace of his fingers again, drinking in the way your moans picked back up. “you’re doing so well, baby, sound so pretty.” matt lets his gaze wander to where your bodies connect, listening to the sound of your pussy squelching every time his fingers drew in and out of you.

“fuuuck,” he groans hungrily. “she’s so wet for me, baby. you love my fingers inside of you this much?”

your eyelids have fluttered shut again, unable to stay open as your tummy started to tighten and your toes began to curl. “come on, angel, you know better. answer me.” matt’s voice makes you groan, the deep tone he adopts sending a shiver down your spine.

“y-yes, I love your fingers!” you cry out, back arching as his thumb moved to rub on your clit, sliding around the nub in circles easily from how soaked you were. “love a-anything you give me, daddy, thank you.”

“good girl,” matt croons. “you wanna cum for me, baby? you’re so close, pretty girl, can feel you squeezin’ my fingers so tight. all y’gotta do is ask and i’ll get you there.”

you let out a loud string of whines as you nodded your head again, knowing he wanted to hear you speak but staying quiet since you loved the way he demanded it from you.

matt fully removed his fingers from you and brought his hand up to your face, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. your eyes cracked open once more to see him staring down at you expectantly, knowing you knew better.

his fingers spread your wetness on your jaw and chin as he gripped onto you tightly, fingers so close you could smell the scent of pure arousal filling your senses. “please make me cum,” you whimpered out, parting your lips slightly as his thumb dragged over them. “please, daddy, i’ve been so good.”

matt grins at your request and slips his thumb into your mouth for a moment before moving his hand back between your legs, dragging the pads of his fingers over your clit gently. “always gotta give my girl what she wants, hm?”

after he speaks, he slips his fingers back inside you and fucks them in and out at a pace faster than before, ripping loud moans out of your parted, pouty lips, your back arching off of the bed.

“go ahead, baby, I got you. wanna feel you cum around my fingers. that’s my pretty girl, let go for me, yeah? there you go.” matt’s voice spoke softly in your ear as his words tipped you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you intensely, legs slamming shut around matt’s wrist.

“fuck!” you shriek, body trembling from the climax that wracked through you, his fingers inside you still coaxing out the remnants.

matt’s face ducked down to press gentle kisses into your jaw as you tried to catch your breath, chest rising and falling quickly. “good job,” he praises quietly, sliding his fingers out of you so he could drag his hand up your stomach, once again spreading your fluids on your skin. “love making you cum like that, watching you fall apart from my fingers. so fucking pretty.”

you let out a small sigh mixed with a whine at his words, turning your face to meet his lips with your own. he kisses you back sweetly, pulling away after a few seconds to let you keep catching your breath.

“thanks, daddy,” you say in a teasing voice and matt can’t help but laugh, though he shakes his head and pushes himself down the bed slowly. “gonna eat you out til you’re crying now, okay?”

you were never one to refuse.

dedicated to @strnilolover

[ja3yun]

Pillow Talk | L.HS

bf!heeseung x gf!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), nipple play, mentions of alcohol and insecurities, pet names (baby), not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! w.c: 6.2k synopsis: after a night out with friends, heeseung's insecurities surface, making him question his worth as a boyfriend. with some reassuring pillow talk and a night spent wrapped in one another, he's determined to prove himself a/n: hi! happy valentine's day to my loves <33 i hope you spend the day surrounded by love - romantic or platonic. i love valentine's day more than anything so this is my gift to you! if you think you've read it before, it's because you have! this is a reupload that won the poll so enjoy!

“Baby?”

A soft, lazy groan vibrates through the stillness of the room. Your body which is still heavy with sleep feels the tender pressure of a hand shaking your arm gently, followed by the familiar brush of petal-soft lips against your shoulder. The gesture is soft but something about the way he calls for you feels different, slightly urgent even though there is no panic in his tone.

“Baby, can you wake up for a minute?”

There’s something off in Heeseung’s voice - something unsure and a tad bit unsteady. His breath catches, then leaves him in a long, heavy exhale, like he’s trying to let something go but can’t. Even with your eyes still closed, the sound of it tugs at your chest, finally stirring you from sleep. The last remnants of drowsiness fade, replaced by a quiet kind of worry.

You shift under the blankets, forcing your eyelids open. The world is still blurred at the edges, softened by sleep, but your focus lands on him immediately. From what you can make out thanks to the streetlight outside, his face looks drawn - tired, but more than that. Troubled.

A slow blink and rub of your eye clears the haze from your vision.

“Heeseung?” Your voice is quiet, thick with sleep but there’s an undercurrent of concern. “Are you okay, baby?”

The silence between you stretches and the silence of the midnight hour amplifies everything - the rustling of sheets, the hum of the city, the way his fingers twitch slightly against the fabric. 

He seems…nervous.

Last night, he’d gone out with friends. It was just supposed to be dinner, a break he’d needed after weeks of drowning in work and deadlines. But now, the faint flush on his cheeks and the pink along the bridge of his nose tell you he had more than just a couple - that much is obvious. What’s not obvious is why he’s still awake, sitting here like something’s eating away at him.

His hand drifts to your hair, sweeping a few strands away from your face, and for a brief second, his lips twitch, like he might smile. It’s something he does without thinking, a habit that’s settled into him over time. Even now, even like this, he pauses to take you in - soft, half-asleep, so stunningly beautiful.

Still, the weight in his eyes doesn’t lift.

“Hee,” you murmur, a little more awake now. “What’s wrong?”

His gaze drops. His lips part slightly, hesitation tightening his shoulders. Seconds drag by before he finally speaks.

“Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?”

The question makes you blink. Once. Then again.

“What?”

His eyes meet yours again, uncertain, searching for an answer without you having to utter a word. “Like…am I doing enough?”

That shakes the last bit of sleep from your mind. You sit up slowly, instinct guiding your hand to his chest, where his heartbeat is steady but tense under your palm. “Heeseung, of course you are. Why would you even ask that?”

The words even feel too simple for what you really mean. Because the truth is - he’s not just a good boyfriend. He’s everything.

Sure, there are hard days. Moments when life is messy, when you argue or when things feel overwhelming. But even when you test one another, he never makes you feel anything less than loved. It’s not just about grand gestures with him - it’s in the little things. The way he remembers details you don’t even remember telling him. The way he texts you just because. The way he looks at you when he thinks you won’t notice - like you’re irreplaceable.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most; seeing doubt where there should never be any.

Sitting here in the dim half-light, you can see the weight he’s carrying - the slight hunch of his shoulders, the way his lips press together like he’s holding something back. And yet, even through the uncertainty in his eyes, he’s still reaching for you. Not just for comfort, but to make sure you’re okay, too. Still scared he’s not the perfect boyfriend. 

That’s who Heeseung is. He loves deeply and gives even when he feels empty.

Your fingers trace gently along his jaw, warmth meeting warmth as you take him in. “Heeseung,” you murmur, steady, soft. “You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. You know that, right?” A pause, letting the words sink into him, but they don’t reach where you need them to. You try again, a little more pointed. “What’s going on, baby? What’s making you feel like this?”

His gaze flickers, doubt clouding his eyes, but your words seem to seep into the cracks, softening the tension in his face. The quiet between you is tough and unfamiliar. The bedroom you lay in is usually brimming with laughter. It’s so strange to see him like this.

Although you don’t have all the answers as to why he’s so heavy, you’ll hold him through whatever storm is brewing in his mind - just as he’s done for you more times than you can count.

Heeseung exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes drift, landing somewhere in the soft glow of the room before he finally speaks. “At dinner…the girls were talking about their boyfriends. About how they don’t really pay attention to them, or like, they never ask about their day, or forget things that matter. Always late, always distracted, y’know?”

“And what has that got to do with you?” You ask slowly, genuinely not seeing the correlation.

His brows knit together, lost in thought, and you can see the spiral beginning - the way he’s already picking apart every moment in your relationship, analysing each time he might have been tired, distracted, or anything less than perfect. You know him too well. His heart is so full of care that the idea of falling short - of disappointing you - feels absolutely unbearable.

But where he sees gaps, you only see love. Commitment. A kind of attentiveness that most people can only dream of. Genuinely, people yearn for a man like Heeseung, so it hurts to see him like this.

Heeseung has never been that boyfriend. The one who forgets anniversaries, who doesn’t show up when it matters, who brushes off your feelings like they’re an afterthought. If anything, he’s the opposite.

You remember the countless nights he’s sat with you, listening, no matter how exhausted he was, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he never lets a single date slip by unnoticed, whether it’s a quiet dinner out or a handwritten note tucked beside your coffee cup before he heads out. The way he remembers things you don’t even remember telling him - your favourite parts of a book, a song you mentioned offhand weeks ago, the smallest details that make you feel seen in a way no one else ever has.

A breath of laughter escapes you - soft, incredulous, not mocking but disbelieving. “Baby,” you say gently, warmth laced in every word. “Those things? The things they were talking about? That’s just…what most guys do at some point.”

At that, Heeseung shrinks a little, his shoulders drawing in as though your words only confirm his worst fears. His face falls, vulnerability flickering across his expression. You see the downward spiral start again, but before he can fall too deep, you reach for him. Your palm finds his cheek, thumb brushing over his skin in slow, reassuring strokes.

You don’t let him sit in those thoughts for long.

“But you - you’re the rare 0.0000001% that isn’t like that,” you continue, your voice steady and confident in your own declaration. “Hee, you listen to me even when I’m rambling about the same thing for the hundredth time. You show up for me, no matter how tired or stressed you are. I don’t think you’ve ever missed a date, let alone forgotten one.”

His lips part slightly, like he wants to argue, but the words don’t come. His eyes meet yours, uncertainty still lingering, but something in the way you’re looking at him keeps him quiet.

“You’ve never turned up late to anything, not once,” you add, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand drifts down, resting against his chest. Beneath your palm, his heartbeat is vibrating with love. “You’re thoughtful in ways those girls were probably wishing for when they were talking. And even when things get rough, you never make me feel like I’m alone in it. You’re always there, Heeseung. Always.”

Heeseung exhales, slow and deep, your words finally settling into him. There’s still hesitation in his eyes, but the pressure in his shoulders has shifted, loosened just a little. He shakes his head, the smallest of smiles ghosting across his lips. But you can tell - he’s still trying to let go of the doubt entirely.

“I just…” He pauses, glancing down as if searching for the right words. “I don’t ever want to take you for granted. I never want to be that guy who doesn’t pay attention. Who makes you feel like you’re not important.”

“You could never,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger just long enough to feel the warmth of him. “The fact that you want to be a good boyfriend already proves that you are one.”

Heeseung lets out a soft laugh, his breath warm against your lips as you peck his lips once more to punctuate your reassurances. He bites his lip, giving you that boyish, slightly embarrassed smile that always makes your heart flutter.

“You think so?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost like he’s seeking reassurance even though he knows he’s already got it.

You raise an eyebrow playfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I know so,” you tease, letting your fingers trace gentle circles on his chest. “I mean, come on - how many boyfriends out there get worried in the middle of the night about whether they’re doing enough for their girlfriends? You’re basically setting the bar impossibly high for everyone else.”

Heeseung chuckles again, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Oh, so now I’m the standard, huh?”

“You’re more than the standard, you’re the dream.”

Grinning widely, your boyfriend leans in to kiss you once again, this time more confident and at ease. It’s not like Heeseung to be vulnerable like this, the mix of alcohol and the early hours playing a massive part in his sudden change in behaviour. But he is so thankful that you aren’t judging him or deflecting his concerns in a passive moment even though you could have. It speaks volumes of your love and adoration for him, and that makes him feel more loved than anything else in the world.

His pretty lips melt with yours, your love blooming through each passing breath and brush of his nose with yours. His palms find a place on your waist as he guides you to crawl onto his lap, the sheets that were keeping you warm in your cocoon of sleep now long gone, the heat from Heeseung’s love now flooding your bloodstream. 

His hands slide up your waist, fingers exploring the curve of your sides before resting at the small of your back. The heat of his touch burns through the thin fabric of your pyjamas, setting you alight under his fingertips. He pulls you closer, guiding you to straddle his lap with ease and you can feel the beat of his heart and the ridge of his cock all at once - lust and love both present.

The kiss deepens and you find yourselves in a rhythm, the kind where neither of you is in a rush, savouring the moment for all it’s worth. His lips move with yours in an intoxicating way, every caress from his tongue sends shivers along your spine. He tastes like something familiar, something safe and beautiful - like home.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmurs into the kiss, his voice dripping in longing, each word brushing against your lips like a secret meant only for you. His breath fans over your face and the way he speaks, the pure adoration in his tone, makes your chest swell with so much emotion you feel like you might physically combust. It’s a confession he’s made a thousand times yet each time it feels like the first because he means it just as heavily each time.

If there was ever a reason for your heart to exist, for your lungs to keep breathing, it is to love Heeseung. Your heart is to keep you alive, but if you can't love him like this, there's no reason for it to keep pumping.

Nodding at his confession, you smile against his lips, a sound of contentment escaping you as you press closer to his chest, wanting to feel every inch of him. You want to be as close as physically possible to this man. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you deepen the kiss, pouring all your love into it. 

“I love you too, Hee,” you whisper between kisses, your voice low, filled with a yearning ache that matches his. “Always.”

His hands tighten around you, holding you as though you might slip away, his kisses becoming more urgent, more desperate. It’s the last few worries working through his brain, finding an escape in your comforting embrace.

Hands roaming your now fully alert body, Heeseung grips and caresses every inch of you he can, his fingers dancing along your back as his nails drag down ever so gently, just enough for you to feel the bite. He needs you under his skin. He needs you part of him. He needs you full stop.

Every brush of his lips, every gentle tug of your lower lip, every graze of his teeth sends a thrill through you, making your skin hum with electricity. His hand moves up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with emotion, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“I know we just had a sappy moment and I don’t want this to take away from it, but I’m horny as fuck right now.”

A sharp laugh escapes you, breaking through the moment, and you shake your head at Heeseung's bluntness, though the heat in the room is unmistakable. His words might’ve caught you off guard, but they don’t surprise you - it’s just so him to switch from vulnerability to desire. One of the many, many, reasons you adore him.

You grin goofily at him, your hands still tangled in his hair. “Oh, really?” you tease, your voice light but laced with that same unspoken tension that’s been building between you. “I never would have guessed with your cock poking my thigh.”

You both look down and see Heeseung’s member semi-hard, concealed only by his boxers. It makes you bite your lip in lust as you reply moments that his thick cock has taken you to the stars, has made you arch your back as your heart tries to leap from your chest and shout how much you love his inches pounding into you.

Heeseung's cheeks flush a deep pink, only adding to the alcohol flush he still has blushing over his features, but that signature mischievous grin appears on his face, his embarrassment melting into amusement. He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes flicking between your teasing gaze and the obvious evidence of his desire pressing against you.

"Well," he says, his voice dropping an octave, his hand tightening slightly on your waist, "you can’t blame me, can you? I mean, look at you." His tone is playful, but there’s no mistaking the hunger behind his words as his eyes drag over your body, drinking in every inch of you. His lips find their way to your neck, teeth working in tandem to nip at your skin before he speaks again. “Y’know, I guess I should prove that I’m a good boyfriend, not just say it.”

A part of you wants to tell him that he proves it every day, that he is even proving it right now, but you know what this will lead to and you’ll be damned if you don’t let him continue. So you play along, smirking as you feel his mouth move south, kissing over your collarbone.

“I think you should,” you giggle out in a moan as his teeth sink into you. The sound escapes your lips, a mixture of laughter and desire, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound, a primal response that only fuels the fire igniting between you both. 

Any noise you make is Heeseung’s favourite song.

With a swift motion, Heeseung peels your tank top off, revealing your breasts. He ogles at them, memorising every mark, line, and curve of them as if he doesn’t study them every day. If he was set the challenge to draw them from memory, he could pass with flying colours.

Attaching his mouth to your right nipple, he teasingly bites around the peak and flicks it with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently as though he’s savouring a fine wine; your body has the same effect as alcohol on him anyway. 

The sensation sends an electric jolt through you, arching your back and pushing your chest further into him, a silent plea for more. Heeseung's hands grab hold of your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin, heightening the atmosphere in the room.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin, punctuating each word with soft kisses. The way he admires you - like you’re a masterpiece and he’s not even worthy to be standing in the museum you decorate - fills you with a sense of pride. You never feel more beautiful or worthy than when you’re in your boyfriend’s arms. 

You can’t help but tilt your head back, surrendering to the desire-filled feeling crashing over you as he lavishes the skin on your body.

His mouth moves from your breast to your collarbone, trailing kisses that leave a path of fire in their wake. As he nips at your skin, you feel a rush of warmth pool low in your belly, the heady mix of desire and adoration overwhelming. Heeseung's fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to him, and you can feel the way his body responds to yours - hard and insistent against your thigh. 

“Am I proving myself?” he asks playfully, pulling back to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with lust and mischief. His lips glisten slightly, and you can’t help but admire how he looks at this moment - wild and undone, completely lost in the taste of you.

“More than you know,” you breathe, a smile creeping onto your lips as you lean in closer, brushing your nose against his. The closeness feels intoxicating, every heartbeat syncing with his own. “But I think there’s a way you can really prove it to me.”

With a playful glint in your eye, you push him back gently, manoeuvring him to lie flat against the sheets of your shared bed. You straddle him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips as you trap him. 

Leaning down, you place a teasing kiss on his lips before trailing your mouth lower, down his chest, relishing every inch of skin you encounter. He tastes like a mix of his body wash and perfume. You take your time, letting your lips brush against his abs, ghosting and teasing while feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips as you draw nearer to where you want to be.

“This doesn’t feel like me proving I’m a good boyfriend if you’re doing all the work,” he laughs, his voice rich with playful sarcasm.

“Just relax,” you murmur, looking up at him through your thick lashes, “I’ve got this.” With that, you grip the waistband of his boxers and edge them down, revealing him fully. The sight of his arousal makes your heart race even faster. Fuck, he’s so delicious. The air is thick with tension and anticipation, and as you wrap your fingers around him, the knowing of what’s to come sends shivers down your spine.

“Seriously, Y/N, why don’t I-”

You interrupt him, your voice playful yet sultry, “I’m literally in love with your cock, so if you want to ‘prove’ you’re a good boyfriend, you’ll let me suck it.” You smile innocently up at your boyfriend, and the mischievous glint in your eyes only heightens the intensity surrounding you.

 When you say you love his cock, that isn’t even enough to convey just how much you worship it.

For the past year, this single cock has taken you to heaven and back, lifting you past the clouds and into galaxies that haven’t even been explored yet. Heeseung has done more for your pleasure than any self-exploration or rose toy could ever hope to give you. If he wants to talk about women’s complaints about their boyfriends, unsatisfying sex is more common than not, and he has yet to disappoint you.

When you first started dating, the chemistry between you was so strong that you found yourselves lost in each other’s arms on the very first date. Even then, while you still had so much to learn about one another - your likes and dislikes, how you moved with one another - Heeseung somehow pressed every button inside you, fine-tuning spots you hadn’t even discovered. He is so attuned to your needs, both physically and mentally.

That is how you know he is a cut above the rest.

With a teasing grin, you peel his boxers down further, whisking them off and throwing them to the floor. You take a moment to admire him, the way his dick stands eager and glistening. It’s a sight that always sends a rush of heat straight to your cunt, making it purr and mewl out to be stuffed.

Leaning in closer, you let your breath ghost over the tip of his bell, watching as he shakes out a breath in response. The tension in his body is palpable and it fuels your desire even more. You love to see him wriggle beneath you - it makes you feel good. Probably a people-pleaser trait that you’ve developed. But if it’s Heeseung? You want to do your very most to please.

You give him a slow, teasing lick, starting from the base and moving up to the tip, taking your time to savour the taste of him. A low groan escapes his lips, and the sound makes your heart race, sending a thrill of pleasure coursing through you.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his voice thick with desire, “you really don’t have to-”

But you cut him off again, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I want to,” you assure him, your voice a whisper as you lean in, capturing his tip in your mouth. The warmth of you envelops him, and you hollow your cheeks, sucking gently as you begin to take him deeper.

Heeseung’s hands find their way to your hair, fingers threading through it as he guides you softly, his breaths turning into heavy pants. You love the way he watches you, eyes dark and filled with admiration and lust. As you take him deeper, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, teasing and tantalising him, every flick sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Gathering your hair into a ponytail and threading his fingers through your strands to make sure he doesn’t miss a bit, he begins to tie your hair up. He does this; one, so he can see your pretty lips wrapping around him, and two, because he knows how annoyed you get when your hair is in your face. It’s partly the reason why he always carries a bobble on his wrist, for spontaneous times like this. 

The black bobble has come in handy more times than he can count; parties, work events, in the car, you name it. You love to suck his cock, there was no denying it, and you will take any opportunity, hence why he is always prepared.

With each slow movement, you can feel Heeseung tense. You watch him closely, revelling in the way his mouth falls open, struggling to find the words to express what he’s feeling - though, his face does enough explaining. His chest rises and falls, each breath coming faster than the last as you continue to work your mouth around him. 

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, his voice shaky as he tries to keep control. You can sense his yearning and quite honestly, it makes you feel so powerful. With every moment that passes, you grow more determined to show him just how much he means to you.

You start to pick up the pace, your head moving faster as you slide him deeper into your mouth, allowing your lips to wrap around him snugly. You can feel the muscles in his thighs tense, his body urging you on as he struggles not to bust a load in your mouth right here and now. The raw desperation in his eyes only ignites your need for him, and you find yourself lost in the rhythm of it, moving in sync with the unspoken connection between you.

“Y/N, please, I’ll not last long,” he murmurs, his voice thick with the urge as he bites his lip, a look of pleasure painting his features. You can tell he’s holding back, wanting to let go but trying to let you take your time. The contrast of his restraint against your eagerness sends a rush of heat through you, and you can feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips as you squeeze his thighs.

Instead of slowing down, you push him fully down your throat, the bell of his cock sitting exactly where your voicebox is located, and you swallow. It’s something you know he loves more than anything and thanks to a lot of practice paired with patience from your boyfriend, you perfected it. 

Your throat gags at the intrusion of his cock as it tries to gulp down, Heeseung thrashes beneath you, holding in his breath and he tenses, toes curling in desperation. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he gasps out through gritted teeth, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming him. His fingers grip your hair tighter, a mix of pleasure and desperation coursing through him as he feels you take him deeper than ever. The warm heat enveloping him is almost too much to bear, and he can't help but thrust his hips slightly, seeking that delicious friction that drives him wild.

You can feel every shudder and quake of his body, the way he fights against the urge to let go. With each swallow, you tighten your throat around him, your body instinctively reacting to his need. The vibrations from your throat send delicious, torturous vibrations through his entire length, and you can tell he’s so fucking close.

“Y/N,” he moans, his voice laced with an intoxicating mix of desperation and awe. “You’re so fucking perfect.” The way he breathes your name is music to your ears, fueling your desire even more. The rasp in his tone along with the tiny giggle that pushes out, showcases the glee he is feeling within himself. It’s a beautiful contrast to how this rude awakening started.

Determined to push him over the edge, you pull back just slightly, letting the tip of him rest on your tongue as you swirl it around his knob, dipping it past his slit a few times before diving back down, taking him fully once more. Each movement is deliberate, each glide of your lips sending him further into the abyss of pleasure. The sound of your lips slurping and the wetness of your mouth fills the room, creating an intoxicating rhythm that both of you are losing yourself in.

“Please, stop,” he begs, his eyes squeezing shut as he loses himself in the moment. “I can’t hold back much longer.” You revel in the power you have over him, the way your actions leave him breathless and needy. It’s a perfect feeling, one that makes you want to do this forever, to draw out his pleasure as long as you can.

But just as you think he might tumble over the edge, Heeseung suddenly pulls you off of him, his chest heaving with short breaths as he fights to regain control. His gaze is dark, filled with desire and a hint of desperation, and it sends a thrill through you as he locks eyes with you.

With a swift motion, he pulls your face up to his, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. It’s a clash of passion, sweetness and raw hunger as his mouth moves against yours. He can taste the remnants of your earlier actions on his tongue but he doesn’t care, he’s never been one to care about that, unlike some men.

Again, a reason why he’s a cut above the rest.

As you kiss, his fingers find home between your legs, feeling how wet you are just from sucking his cock. The feeling makes him smirk, his ego growing along with his arousal. He pushes your shorts and underwear to the side and you gasp into his mouth as you feel the heat of his member sliding against your pussy. 

“I need you so fucking bad,” Heeseung breathes between kisses. You can feel the urgency in his words, the way his body reacts to yours, the heat radiating off him, makes your heart race faster, and you instinctively press against him, seeking that sweet friction. “Let me fuck you, please, baby.” Heeseung is whiny and desperate, which means you know he’s close, seeking out that sweet release.

And you are more than happy to give him it.

You break the kiss just long enough to whisper, “Fuck me, please, Hee.” 

The invitation drives him over the edge, losing control completely, and you can see the flicker of determination in his eyes as he moves to claim you, each moment stretching out as you both surrender to the overwhelming connection that binds you together.

With pure greed, Heeseung captures your lips again, his mouth moving against yours with urgency. When his mouth finds your breasts again, he takes your right nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before nibbling around the peak, his tongue swirling and teasing as he sends waves of pleasure through you.

Slipping into your heat, Heeseung’s cock finally stretches you open, a gasp in harmony orchestrating around your bedroom. Your eyes roll back as he fills you to the hilt, the exquisite sensation sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through every part of your body. Heeseung pauses for just a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his breath coming in heavy pants as he watches you. 

“God, you feel amazing,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need as he slowly pulls back, only to plunge deep again. Each thrust is a slow exploration at first as he seeks to bring you both to that blissful peak. The sensation of his cock sliding against your inner walls sends waves of pleasure through you. Heeseung's eyes never leave your face, drinking in the sight of you lost in ecstasy, each gasp and moan drawing him deeper into the moment.

Heeseung's hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he finds a steady rhythm, pushing deeper with each jerk of his hips, trying to prove to you just how great of a boyfriend he can be, how he will give you everything he has; mind, body, and spirit. 

Your body instinctively responds, arching into him, craving more as the world around you fades into the background. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo in the quiet room, punctuated by the choir of your shared gasps and moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice low and husky, thick with pleasure as he quickens his pace. It doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you, your walls will always welcome him in the most delicious way. 

You can feel the tension building within you with each thrust. The urgency in his movements builds, each movement charged with desperation and longing as he works hard to drive you both to the brink. He leans down, capturing your lips in another messy albeit loving kiss, stealing what little breath you have left.

As he kisses you, his hands roam down to your thighs, lifting your legs higher to allow him even deeper access. The shift in angle has you moaning like a pornstar as he hits that sweet spot inside you. You can feel the pressure building, the familiar tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, urging you closer to release.

“Y/N,” he breathes against your lips, his voice low and breathy, filled with both desire and admiration. “You’re everything to me.” The words resonate deep within your chest, and they only serve to heighten the intensity of your love for him. “I want you to cum for me,” he murmurs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in perfect time with his thrusts, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive bud.

The sensation of his fingers combined with the friction of his cock sends you spiralling toward the edge. With each stroke of his cock and each slow circle of his thumb, you can feel the heat pooling in your core, a delicious tension building that threatens to overflow.

“Hee, I’m so close,” you gasp, nails digging into his back as the sensations overwhelm you. Heeseung groans in response, his thrusts growing more frantic, his desire matching your own as he chases that high alongside you. “Just a little more, baby, you can take it,” he urges, his voice thick with need, every thrust a promise of the pleasure to come.

Your breaths come in sharp bursts as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you. With every movement, Heeseung brings you closer to the edge, the rhythm of his hips and the precision of his fingers drawing you nearer to bliss. Your body begins to tremble, the coil inside you winding tighter as Heeseung’s pace quickens, urgency fueling every thrust.

“Let go for me, baby,” he whispers, each word enveloped with need, and that simple command pushes you over the edge. With a shriek, your body explodes in pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as you shatter beneath him.

The sensation washes over you, and as you lose yourself to it, you can feel Heeseung following closely behind, his own release spilling into you as he groans your name, ropes of his cum painting your walls, the heat adding to your pleasure and making your cunt try and swallow each drop. 

As the waves of pleasure finally begin to subside, you find yourself still tangled together, your breaths mingling in the now warm air. Heeseung’s arms are wrapped securely around you, holding you close as his heartbeat gradually slows, though the lingering electricity between you remains palpable. You can feel the aftershocks of your climax coursing through you along with the final jumps of his cock, each pulse a gentle reminder of the ecstasy you just shared.

Heeseung gently pulls out, and a soft whimper escapes your lips at the loss, but he’s quick to pull you into his embrace, cradling you against his chest. His fingers brush through your hair, and you can’t help but smile, the afterglow of your connection illuminating your heart. 

“So...did I prove myself,” he breathes, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he meets your gaze. There’s a playful glint in his eyes, his brows wiggling. You’re so happy to have this Heeseung back, the worries and doubts are long gone.

“You never had to prove anything, Hee. You prove yourself every single day.” Your voice is earnest and raw, meaning every word. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek as you stroke his flushed face. “I love you so much, baby. Please never doubt yourself like that again.” 

Heeseung’s eyes soften at your words, a bashfulness coming over his features as he leans into your touch. The sincerity in your voice wraps around him like a comforting blanket, easing away any lingering insecurities. 

“You really mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” you assure him, the depth of your love for him echoing amongst each syllable. “You are everything I have ever wanted and more. I don’t just say it for the sake of it, you know. You really are perfect for me, Hee. Perfect in general.”

His heart swells at your declaration, a grin lighting his face the way the moon lights up the room. “Well, I guess that means I should keep doing what I’m doing, yeah?”

“Abso-fucking-luty, “ you giggle, kissing his chest before you settle your head there, listening to his heartbeat, the one that beats only for you. “Just keep being mine.”

“Always.”

[gam3r-girli3]

Simon Riley who's dating a girl that's very into spirituality.

Personally, he doesn't believe in half of it but he loves watching her eyes light up when she talks about things like 'moon cycles' and 'charging her crystals'.

He has to admit, despite not believing in their supposed 'healing properties', he admires the pretty rock collection you keep on your nightstand, as well as the other ones you keep scattered throughout the house for different reasons such as 'protection' and 'energy cleansing.'

It's not a rare occurance for him to come home a little worse for wear after a long mission, but one time he came back in pretty rough shape after a particularly grueling mission that left him damn near bed bound for the better part of a week.

The next time he gets ready to leave once again, you present him with something: a long black leather cord necklace with a brown looking stone attached to it.

"Wha's this?" he asks in his gruff voice full of confusion.

"It's a tigers eye crystal," you explain. "Apparently Roman soldiers wore them into battle. They're supposed to help protect you and bring you home to me safe."

Now, Simon Riley doesn't believe in crystals or tarot or astrology or any other spiritual thing like you do, but he believes in the way his heart beats for you and you only - so he clutches it in his hand and kisses you, muttering a 'thanks, birdie' before slipping it into his pocket and leaving.

He won't admit it, but he takes it out sometimes when he's in his room on base, admiring the way it shimmers in the light. It's not a symbol of protection to him like it is to you; it's a symbol of your love and what he's fighting to get home to.

a/n: i just love the idea of simon having a gf who's very into her spirituality and crystals and he's just like '???' but also loves her so much so he just goes with it ♡

definitely want to explore this more!!

[pretentious-blonde]

never second best

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: after a run-in with his ex, steve reassures you that you'll never be second best, proving it in a way he knows will stick

warnings: 18+ this is smut, graphic depictions of sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), tears, insecurity

a/n: part 5 but can be read as a standalone. half of this is super long, pure filth, AND my first time writing smut so pls feedback is welcome. thank you @andvys so so much, hopefully, i didn't let you down <3

series masterlist

Steve perched on the edge of his neatly-made bed, hair painstakingly combed into that signature swoop, the red knit jumper hugging his broad shoulders just so. The sleeves are pushed up to reveal his forearms—a look he recently realised drives you a little wild, and one he now makes an effort to wear often. 

He liked to catch you staring. 

He’s wearing his go-to faded jeans, and every time he glances your way, his eyes take on a softer appearance. You’ve already spent some time in his room before, but every time he sees you there, he still can’t believe you’re in his space.

He’s trying—really trying—not to grin too widely. If he breaks into the excited smile he’s been fighting all morning, he worries he might come off too eager. But truth be told, he is too eager. Hosting Dustin’s birthday party is one thing, but now he has the honour of introducing you to everyone. Officially. 

He’s practically bursting at the chance to show you off, the very thought turned his mind all giddy. Knowing that you would be the one with his arm around your waist for everyone to witness. 

The idea distracted him from the real drama occurring not four feet away from him. 

From your spot by the mirror, you can see him watching you, and it sets your stomach off again. You’re not sure why today feels so monumental. You’ve met Dustin in passing, shared a few laughs with Robin over coffee after she basically saved your relationship a few weeks back.

But tonight is the full show. Everyone. All at once. And for some reason, your carefully chosen outfit no longer feels quite right. You tug the hem of your top self-consciously, tilt your head, and scrunch your nose at your reflection.

“I look awful,” you say, voice laced with the sort of frustration that’s all nerves. “This looked so much better in my head.”

His brow furrows, and he pushes off the bed in a single fluid motion. “That’s nonsense,” he replies, crossing the room to you in three quick strides. He rests his hands lightly on your shoulders, gaze flicking to meet yours in the mirror. "You look beautiful, sweetheart. Always do. You know that."

You huff out a breath, trying not to get lost in the warmth of his praise—easier said than done.

“No, I don’t,” you insist, staring critically at your clothes. “I should’ve brought something else.”

“Well…do you have anything else here?” He asks gently.

There were little traces of you scattered around—a few forgotten items here and there, most notably, the new toothbrush sitting beside his. Still, nine times out of ten, you took your clothes home, leaving behind only your pajamas.

“A set of pajamas.” You sigh dramatically, cursing yourself for not packing more than one option. “That’s about it.”

“Hey, that could work,” he teases, eyes crinkling with amusement. “That’s one of my favourite looks on you.” His hands slide down your arms, his grin growing as he watches your reaction.

Under normal circumstances you would lean into his teasing, but this was not the time. You turn to give him a shove, but he catches your wrist before it can make an impact.

“Steve,” you whine, trying to see the humour in this the way he is.

“What? I’m just being honest,” he says, eyes dancing. “Would you rather I lie?” 

Truth is, he does love you in those pajamas—almost as much as he loves you wearing his old shirts. Honestly, you could throw on a trash bag, and he’d still think you’re stunning.

“Please stop,” you groan.

You’re not smiling the way you usually do at his jokes—no little giggle, no playful roll of the eyes. 

The shift clicks for him: you’re actually stressed. 

Concern crosses his features, and the jovial edge in his voice softens. He lowers his tone, warmth flowing through each word, and slides his hands down to cradle your waist.

“Alright,” he murmurs, thumbs drawing gentle circles against your hips. “Talk to me. What’s not working here?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, exhaling as you sink into him. “I just feel… unprepared. I mean, I’m meeting everyone. Should I have brought something? I should’ve baked. Everyone likes baked goods.”

A breathy chuckle escapes him, and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Like you’re not already sweet enough.

“Angel, Robin is bringing the cake. And you”—he squeezes your waist a little firmer—“are a guest here. Your only job is to relax and look pretty. Can you do that for me? Please?”

The earnestness in his voice steals the protest right out of your throat. You look up at him, heart thumping in that heady way it does whenever he turns on the charm full-blast. 

Damn those big, stupid brown eyes. 

You turn back to the mirror, pulling at your shirt once again. There’s a crease here, a wrinkle there—things no one else would ever notice, but to you, it’s just off. You can feel his eyes on you, his concern and affection practically radiating from behind. 

He’s been so excited, so patient, and yet you can’t shake the last bit of anxiety churning in your stomach about today.

In the reflection, you watch him hover, trying to be casual even though you can see every thought flit across his expressive face. He wants you to be happy and comfortable. He wants to show you off and make sure you feel like a million bucks doing it.

“Can I wear something of yours?” you ask softly, turning to meet those wide, hopeful eyes. “I want something more comfortable.”

Comfortable.

His heart practically leaps at your request. He’s not sure why that single sentence sends a jolt of excitement through him, but it does—and it’s powerful. He tries to school his expression into something normal, but the eager beam that spreads across his face betrays him.

“Absolutely,” he says far too quickly, glad to be of use. “Knock yourself out. Have at it—any one you want.”

He opens the wardrobe, stepping aside like he’s unveiling some prized collection. You slip past him, still self-conscious, but the warm brush of his hand on your lower back comforts you. 

Leafing through the soft fabrics, you finally find one that matches the rest of your outfit—a cosy, oversized number that’s equally stylish and undeniably Steve’s. You hold it up, glancing back at him for approval.

He grins—big, unabashed. “Fantastic choice,” he declares, in an exaggeratedly formal tone meant to make you laugh.

It works—you giggle. The sound washes over him like a balm, chasing away the worry in his eyes. 

He lives for that sound.

Then, your focus shifts back to the mirror. You pull off your shirt in one smooth motion, baring your bra and the long, graceful stretch of your spine. 

The air feels cooler against your newly exposed skin, and you instantly sense the spark of awareness coming from the boy behind you.

He goes still. A part of him wants to look away, to be respectful, yet he can’t stop his eyes from drifting along the curve of your waist and the softness just above your navel.

He’s had the privilege of touching your bare skin before—tentative, lingering caresses that never ventured too far. He’s wanted more, of course he has. He’s human—he’s got a pulse. 

But you deserve slow. You deserve a careful pace, no pressure. He’d beat himself up about it for weeks if he even thought he made you uncomfortable.

But that didn’t stop his mind from running. 

He wanted to trail his fingertips down every inch of your body, to feel you melt under his touch. Imagining the way you’d arch into his palms, voice breathless as it tickled his ear, egging him on. Images of pressing you up against the mirror, sliding his hands across your hips, your ribs, your chest, discovering every inch he’s been dying to explore. 

He tears his eyes away, cheeks heating at his own explicit thoughts. 

You slide his jumper over your head, letting the fabric fall into place. Instantly, you’re enveloped in the faint smell of him: cologne, fabric softener, a hint of hairspray. 

You turn, a playful, knowing smirk on your face, you catch the flush on his cheeks—his pupils slightly dilated, his posture taut with the effort of keeping his hands to himself.

“More comfortable?” he asks, managing a wobbly smile.

“Yeah,” you smooth the jumper over your sides, nodding. “Much better.”

A smile spreads slowly across his face, relief flooding his features. He steps closer, gently adjusting the jumper on your shoulders, as if making sure you’re perfectly bundled in his warmth. His knuckles skim your collarbone, the gesture sends a pleasant shiver through you.

“Good,” he murmurs. In the silence that follows, you can almost hear the unspoken thoughts swirling behind his eyes. He drops his hands, brushes a quick kiss to your temple, and lets out a breath. “Come on, let’s get downstairs before the others barge in. The peace isn’t gonna last once the party kicks off.”

The house was buzzing with the kind of kinetic energy that made the walls hum. You can feel it reverberating through the soles of your feet the moment you step back into the living room. The cosy space was adorned with colourful streamers and a Happy Birthday! banner—Dustin’s own insistence, of course.

Steve had nearly suffered a heart attack watching you put it up single-handedly earlier, bursting into the room just in time to steady the wobbling chair beneath you.

I mean, Jesus, were you trying to take years off his life?

You had been blissfully unaware of the impending disaster, balancing precariously as if gravity was a suggestion. 

He had been right there. You could have asked for help. But no—apparently, terrifying him was just part of the fun.

None of that mattered now the party was in full swing, chatter overlapping, laughter weaving in and out of a sweetly melancholic track Max had just dropped onto the record player.

He had introduced you with obvious pride, making sure to state—loud and clear—that you were his girlfriend. Watching you greet everyone with a tender smile. His attention lingered on each reaction, quietly noting how they took in the girl he was lucky enough to call his.

It felt like unveiling a winning hand in a game he never expected to play so well—like holding onto something rare and knowing, deep down, that he’d beaten the odds.

You quickly spot your host—your boyfriend—hovering near the stereo console, running a hand through his hair, trying to appear unruffled while Max and Lucas sift through his precious vinyls. And in typical Steve fashion, failing at appearing calm, because he can’t quite hide his grin when he sees you looking. 

From across the room, he gives you a gentle wave, checking that you’re still alright. His eyes stay on you as you maneuver around the coffee table and dodge a crumb-strewn plate that might have once held cake but now looks suspiciously empty.

“Hey,” he greets, sliding an arm around your waist the second you’re within reach. His hand settles warm and comforting at your side, fingertips lightly pressing into the soft fabric of the borrowed sweater. 

“Hey yourself,” you reply, leaning into the contact without a second thought.

He seems to shine in a way you haven’t seen before. Surrounded by the people he calls family, he’s the best version of himself, brimming with confidence and a natural leadership that emerges when he’s trying to make sure everyone else is okay. 

You see it in the way he’s just handed Max the next record she was eyeing (despite complaining it’s not appropriate music for a birthday party), the way he’s offered Dustin a refill on his drink twice in the last ten minutes, and the way his entire face softens whenever he looks at you.

You hear Will’s loud gasp behind you—apparently, Jonathan just teased him about some underground album you had never heard of. The brown-haired boy claps a hand on his brother’s shoulder, spinning him into an ongoing argument about what to play next. 

Meanwhile, Robin’s perched on the arm of the couch, describing some comedic fiasco at work with her trademark flair for dramatics. You catch only snippets—something about a misfiled horror movie in the kids’ section, a frantic parent demanding a refund, and Steve heroically stepping in to salvage the day.

He rolls his eyes at that particular story, mouth curving in a half-smile. “She’s gonna exaggerate it,” he mutters to you, “just watch.”

You grin, nudging him gently. “Hey, maybe it’ll make you look good.”

“What, me saving the day?” He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I already look great,” he says in a faux-arrogant tone, then immediately flushes when he realises how that might’ve sounded. But you know him well enough to catch the joking glint in his eye, so you laugh.

“C’mon, Steve,” comes a voice from the left—Nancy, stepping forward with a cautious smile. Her hair is pinned back, a few strands framing her face, and she looks surprisingly at ease despite the chaos around her. “Give yourself some credit. You’re basically running a daycare every shift the amount of times the kids are there,” she teases, though her tone is warm, not biting.

“Yeah, well, if it keeps me from being bored outta my mind, guess it’s worth it.” He snorts.

You shift, letting Nancy into the conversation fully. She meets your gaze with an inviting smile, and it strikes you how nice she is. 

Steve had mentioned her coming, and at first, it rubbed you the wrong way. Not in a dramatic, soap-opera kind of way, but in that small discomfort that settled in your stomach before you could talk yourself out of it.

You didn’t want to be that person—the one who couldn’t handle a little shared history, who needed their partner to rewrite the past just to make the present more comfortable. But still, the thought sat with you longer than you liked.

Steve had noticed, of course. He was too perceptive when it came to you, reading the tension in your jaw before you even had the words to explain it. So he reassured you—gently, patiently, with that soft-eyed sincerity he always had when something really mattered.

Without hesitation, he’d offered to uninvite her. But you shook your head because that wasn’t fair. If they were all part of the same friend group, who were you to come in and break it apart? Nancy was part of his history, but that didn’t mean she had to be an issue in his future.

And if he could move forward without looking over his shoulder, then so could you.

She was not the intimidating figure you’d somewhat imagined— the girl he had cared about so deeply in the past. Instead, she’s approachable, her eyes bright with curiosity as she acknowledges you.

“Hi,” she says, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think we’ve had a real chance to talk yet. I’m Nancy.” She offers her hand, and you take it, noticing the gentle, firm shake.

“It’s really nice to finally meet you properly.” You tell her, giving your name in return. “Steve’s told me a bit about you.”

She arches a brow at him, a playful glint there. “All good things, I hope?”

“Nothing but the best.” He raises both hands, half-defensive. 

She laughs quietly, then turns that inquisitive gaze back to you.

“So, I heard you’re, um… you work in—”

“Journalism,” you supply with a small nod. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds, but I really like it. Kinda took your place at the Hawkins Post.” You joke. “They treat me a lot better now though. It’s not anything huge, but I get to read new articles, help shape them a bit, get the occasional coffee run… it’s fun and sometimes totally insane.”

Steve leans in, beaming with pride. 

It had gotten easier—less and less often did you show up at his house on the verge of tears after a shift. Turns out, grown men get pretty uncomfortable when you call them out on their bullshit directly. And damn, was he proud when they finally started taking you seriously.

He always knew they would. You’re a smart girl, after all.

“She’s underselling it.” He says, without the slightest bit of shame, gently nudging your shoulder. “She’s great at what she does.” 

“That sounds so much better than when I was there.” She shakes her head, reminiscing about her experiences. “I still do a lot of writing myself. I’m working at a local paper in Massachusetts right now.”

Something about her tone clicks into place for you, like a puzzle piece sliding in. 

“Right, Steve mentioned. You like it?”

“Yeah. It’s… challenging, to say the least.” She nods, crossing her arms loosely. “Still a small paper, still small stories. But I’m building my portfolio, hoping to maybe do bigger pieces eventually.” 

A warm sense of camaraderie blooms in your chest. You completely understand that hustle, that feeling of needing to push through the drudge work to get to the fulfilling stuff. 

“Oh, absolutely,” you say. “I used to think I’d be working on these huge headlines right off the bat, but it was mostly basic editing work. Still,” you add, “I’m kind of a sucker for persevering.”

Her eyes crinkle with a real smile, and for a moment, it’s just you two, connecting over the rollercoaster that is words. 

“I know exactly what you mean. It’s exciting to be at the start of something, you know?”

“Makes the early mornings and late evenings worth it,” you tease, and she laughs. 

This was easier than you thought.

The conversation flows so smoothly that you almost forget the context—that this is Steve’s ex you’re talking to, that the only reason you even worried about her presence was because of that shared history. But here she is: easy to talk to, friendly, and—if you’re honest—reminding you a bit of yourself in how she lights up when discussing her work. You could understand how Steve fell for her in the first place. 

And that’s when it happens: Dustin bounces by with a half-eaten cake slice, eyes going wide as he sees you and Nancy chatting. He glances between you, leans in—crumbs falling from his mouth as he finishes eavesdropping. 

“Whoa, you guys are so alike.”

“Took you long enough to notice.” Erica chuckles, passing behind him.

Steve nearly chokes on air. “Excuse me?”

“I told you—” Dustin smirks at Steve, “both super nice, pushy in a good way, and way too into all that reportage stuff.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Patterns, man. I see them.”

Nancy, amused, shakes her head but doesn’t deny it. Meanwhile, you feel a curious prickle in your stomach. 

Even though you haven’t felt threatened by Nancy at all, it’s… interesting, hearing Dustin phrase it that way, noting how similar the two of you are.

Before you can dwell on it, Steve is in full damage control mode, waving Dustin away. 

“All right, all right, that’s enough outta you, birthday boy.”

Dustin, unbothered, snickers, then scampers off to deposit his napkin onto Jonathan’s pile of party rubbish. You catch Nancy’s eye, and she looks like she wants to say something, but a flush of colour creeps across her cheeks instead. You wonder if she’s embarrassed at the topic or if she’s also noting how the conversation just positioned you and her in the same category.

“Anyway,” Nancy says softly, clearing her throat, “it was really nice talking to you. And I do want to chat more about writing. Would be great if our paths were to cross again.”

“Sure. ” You nod, smiling. “Anytime.”

She dips her head in a polite goodbye, departing to rescue Mike from an argument with Lucas. That leaves you and Steve standing there in the aftermath of Dustin’s remarks.

“Uh… sorry about that,” he mumbles, glancing down at you. “Dustin’s always been, like, embarrassingly direct.”

A wry smile tugs at your lips. “It’s okay. I’m not offended.”

The evening drifts into its final hours with a soft sun lingering in the corners of Steve’s living room windows. Most of the balloons have deflated a little, and the noise has died down into pockets of lingering conversation. 

Dustin’s boisterous laugh echoes one last time as he heads out the door, hauling an armful of presents. Max trails behind him with the rest of the kids, carrying a few he couldn’t manage. She pauses to give you a small nod and a grin—her quiet way of saying, I like you.

You thought at first she was a tad standoffish, but her actions made you feel accepted into the small group. And if they approve of you, that's a sign that maybe you do belong here, in this makeshift family. 

Not that you’re getting ahead of yourself or anything…

Robin departs next, hooking her arm through Erica’s at the last second to drag her into some half-joking conversation about finally getting a break from babysitting Steve. Which she wholeheartedly agreed with, even if she was multiple years his junior. 

Nancy laughs, glancing your way as if to share the humour, and you wave goodbye with a soft smile. Jonathan, her hand in his, offers you a polite nod. They looked so in sync, bodies unconsciously angled toward each other, moving as a unit. There’s no tension, no leftover drama—just two people who found their other half. 

The thought made you more anxious than relieved. 

When the door finally shuts, the hush that falls over the house is unsettling. You can still hear the faint crackle of the record player, the needle resting in a quiet groove before you switched it off. Now, there’s just the quiet clink of dishes in the kitchen and the soft hum of Steve’s voice—he’s singing along to the old radio as he stacks up the glasses. He told you he had it under control, and knowing you didn’t like the feeling of leftover food in the sink, he took this job for the team.

You’re left gathering discarded wrappers and balled-up napkins, your mind spiraling in circles you really don’t want to follow but couldn’t help yourself.

Nancy is lovely. Infuriatingly so. 

In fact, she was so kind, so pleasant, that it almost stings more than if she’d been cold. Because it means you can’t hate her. Not that it was your goal to do so, but you couldn’t just dismiss her as some memory in Steve’s past. 

She was right for him once, and the knowledge of how closely her life aligns with yours—similar ambitions, the same drive for success, the spark of curiosity—makes your throat feel tight.

What if Steve also sees her in you? What if every moment you thought was unique and special was just him trying to relive something he used to have with her?

You can’t stand the idea, but the rational side of your brain doesn’t seem to be cooperating. 

Steve isn’t cruel. You know that. 

He’s never been anything but considerate, thoughtful, patient with you. Hell, the amount of times he was there for you—without hesitation, without needing to be asked. Holding your hand when you were nervous, pressing a kiss to your temple when you overthought, making you laugh when you wanted to cry.

He had never once made you feel like an afterthought. He was all in. And yet, the thought gnawed at you—was he here because he chose you, or because he was still reaching for a shadow of the past? Was he even aware he was chasing her ghost?

Your fingers tighten around a crumpled paper plate, and you swallow against the lump forming in your throat. You wonder if you really are just a Nancy 2.0 as you step into the kitchen, tossing the rubbish in the bin and retreating back to the now clean living room. Not wanting to talk to him just yet. 

The water stops running, the tap squeaking as Steve turns it off. You hear him dry his hands on a dish towel, then he appears in the doorway, face lighting up for a moment—until he sees your expression.

“Finished in the kitchen,” he starts, voice warm and a little proud, then pauses. “...What’s wrong?”

He settles beside you on the couch, the cushions dipping under his weight. Your shoulders tense a little—his proximity normally soothes you, but tonight, your mind won’t quiet down, and every small gesture feels magnified. He notices immediately.

“Nothing,” you say, forcing a small, tight smile. “I really liked your friends. They’re all super sweet. I can see why you get along so well.”

“Oh yeah?” There’s a warmth in his tone, a hopeful rise.

You nod, dropping your eyes to your hands. He slides closer, until his knee brushes against yours. 

“You even got Erica to like you,” he points out, sounding genuinely impressed. “It took me weeks to win her over, and you waltz in and manage it in a few hours? So not fair.”

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes. “I’m sure she’s just being polite.”

A quick scoff breaks from Steve’s throat. “Erica doesn’t do polite unless she means it.” He places his hand lightly on your arm, and despite the tension coiled in your chest, you feel a rush of affection at the contact. “No, seriously—I loved having you here, angel. Made the whole day so much better.”

“Really?” you ask, voice wavering just enough that he picks up on your uncertainty.

“Well, yeah,” he answers, brow creasing. “I’m just glad they didn’t scare you off.”

Your lips form a weak smile. “Oh, they didn’t.”

But there’s something about your tone—some waver you can’t quite hide—and his eyes sharpen. 

“Okay, spill,” he says, leaning in. “What’s going on?”

“Huh?” You try to keep your expression neutral, but his gaze pins you.

“I know you,” he insists, a furrow carving between his brows. “You’re stressed about something.”

“I’m so not,” you counter, folding your arms tight against your chest.

“Yeah, you are,” he replies, undeterred. “You have tells.”

“Tells?” you echoed.

“Yes, tells.” He shifts forward, voice low. “So tell me—what’s on your mind? Did someone say something? Because I swear to god—”

“Steve,” you cut him off, irritation sparking. “Nobody said anything.”

“Then what is it? Was I too much? I swear I just wanted people to know how much I—”

“Steve,” you say again, louder this time, frustration rolling through you in a hot wave. “I’m fine. Drop it.”

His expression crumples the instant your sharp tone slices through the air. It’s like someone yanked the rug out from under him, and he sits there, quiet and unsure, those warm eyes losing some of their usual shine. It kills you to see him look so hurt, and you can practically feel the guilt creeping up your spine.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs at last, voice soft and almost hesitant. “You… you don’t have to come to the next one. If it wasn’t fun, or if it was too much—”

“That’s not it,” you say, cutting him off. You watch the confusion linger on his face, and it only makes the ache in your chest worse. 

He just wanted to have a good time, to share his world with you. 

And now here you are, turning what seemed like a perfect day into something heavy and complicated.

“Then—what?” His shoulders sag. “I don’t know what else could’ve gone wrong.” His gaze flits over your features, looking for answers you haven’t yet spoken.

You swallow, steeling yourself. 

“It was just… Nancy.”

“Nancy?” Steve’s eyes widen in surprise. “I thought you two got along really well tonight.”

“Yeah,” you admit, speaking around the lump in your throat. “We did.”

He pushes a breath through his nose, like he’s sifting through every possible explanation and coming up empty.

“I thought you’d, I don’t know, bond over books or something. I mean, I know you were anxious before, but you’re both so… nice. She’s already with Jonathan, you’ve got me—”

“Steve.” You cut him off again, trying not to let your voice waver. “We’re similar. That’s the problem.”

He blinks. “What d’you mean?” His tone is gentle, even though you see the concern in his eyes.

You rake a hand through your hair, fighting for the right words. He shifts forward, bracing himself.

“Steve, we’re really similar,” you say at last, voice low. 

“Okay?” He nods, urging you to continue. “So you have some shared interests. Where are we going with this, sweetheart?”

A shaky breath escapes you, and you force yourself to look him in the eye. 

“Are you sure you’re not still… looking for her?”

He frowns, confused. “Looking for her? I don’t—”

“Yes, Steve. Searching for someone like Nancy because you couldn’t have her. Like I’m just the next best thing. Even the kids picked up on how alike we are.” Your voice cracks, and you hate how vulnerable you sound. “I don’t want to be some bullshit replacement, filling up the space she left behind.”

All it takes is that one word—bullshit—and the floor drops out beneath him. 

You’re looking at him, voice trembling with hurt, and the realisation that you think you’re not enough guts him. Because he knows that feeling too well. He’s been there, on the other end, wondering if he was any good for anyone. But this? This is a thousand times worse. Because it’s you—and if there’s one thing in this world he’s certain of, it’s you.

He can’t stand the heartbreak in your eyes. Can’t stand the idea that he might be the one making you feel that way. His mind scrambles for something, anything, that might put your mind at ease—words to counteract that awful notion of being not enough. 

Then, suddenly, clarity strikes. He can’t think of anything else but to go full-force, stern, direct, because you’re far too precious for soft reassurances that could be mistaken or ignored.

“Hey,” he says, voice firm enough to startle even himself, “listen to me and listen to me good, all right?”

He can see how shocked you are at the tone he’s using; you go still, your gaze locking on him in a way that assures him every word will sink in. It has to.

“Never—and I mean never—are you some kind of half-ass replacement. You hear me? So get that thought out of your head right now.”

He’s never spoken to you quite like this before, but desperation thrums under every syllable. 

I can’t lose you. Please believe me.

“I don’t care how long it takes or how many times I have to say it—you are not second place. You are not a replacement. I didn’t settle for you, I chose you. You think I’d waste my time with someone I didn’t want wholeheartedly?”

He asks the question as though there’s no logical answer except the truth: Of course he wouldn’t. And he can’t stop now; your silence pushes him to continue. He needs you to know.

“God, if you could see yourself the way I do, you’d never think this again. You would never doubt how much I love you. How stupidly lucky I feel every day just to have you. You are not some ghost of my past. You are my future. And nothing—no one—could ever change that.”

There’s a ringing in his ears from the intensity of his own words, and he breathes hard, every muscle coiled with tension. Your eyes are wide, shining with an emotion he can’t decipher—shock, relief, maybe both. He hopes to God his message got through.

And then—amid the silence—your voice comes out soft, almost a whisper. 

“You love me?”

The question slices through him like lightning. He falters, suddenly off-balance. 

Fuck.

Because he’s just laid bare his entire heart, more than he’s ever dared to before. But there’s no taking it back. No gentle way to hedge now.

“Yes.” He swallows. His voice is steadier than he feels inside. “I do... Simple as that.”

That was all it took.

The words barely leave his mouth before you surge forward, meeting him in a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, messy and urgent, the taste of each other a heady mix of relief and need. 

He gasps when you grip the collar of his sweater, tugging him closer, refusing to let a single breath of space linger between you. In response, his hands slide down your waist, pulling you tight against him until he can feel every curve, every line of your body against his.

“God,” he rasps against your mouth, already sounding relieved. “You—fuck.”

You hum a soft, breathy laugh escapes as he hauls you closer, helping you out as you sit and straddle his lap. His mouth is trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat as you sink your fingers into his hair, tugging, making him hiss against your lips.

He’s so desperate he doesn’t know where to touch first—fingers skimming over the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, sliding boldly beneath the hem of your—his—jumper to feel the heat of your skin. 

Everything about you feels like an invitation, a promise he’s craved for far too long. And each gasp, each little whimper you give him, only fuels that growing ache inside of him.

“Steve,” you whisper, voice cracking with urgency. He glances up, eyes dark, pupils blown. There’s something unbridled there—devotion, longing, raw determination to make sure you never doubt him again.

He pulls you closer, one hand curling around your waist, the other sliding around to grip your ass, pulling you flush against the growing hardness in his jeans. 

Then, as though a last spark of caution flickers through his brain, he stills, pulling back just enough to look at you—really look, eyes darting between yours. There’s a flush high on his cheeks, lips reddened from your kisses. But behind that is a tenderness, a protective streak that roars beneath his surface need.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, voice so low it practically reverberates through your chest. He needs to hear you say it. Needs to hear you tell him it’s alright. “I want to make sure you’re positive, because I—I want this more than anything—to show you, to make you feel so fucking good, but…”

You let out a noise that’s both a laugh and a moan. 

“Steve,” you repeat, more breathless this time. “I want this. I want you. Please.”

He groans, eyes squeezing shut. Thank God. 

“Shit, you have no idea how long I’ve—” He takes a breath as he shudders against you, every nerve ending on fire. “Angel—fuck—wait, just a sec.”

You blink, momentarily dazed. “What—did I do something?”

He just about melts at the concerned look you’re giving him, hands immediately cupping your face as he presses his mouth against yours as he mutters reassurances. 

“No, sweetheart. You didn’t—you’re perfect.” He wills his brain to formulate a coherent sentence. Easier said than done when he has you sitting on his lap. “But, if I’m going to make love to you, I’m not going to do it on the living room couch.”

A glint sparks in his eyes, but there’s nothing playful about the way he suddenly gathers you up into his arms, hands cupping beneath your thighs, hoisting you effortlessly against his chest as he stands. Your squeal of surprise echoes in the now-quiet house as you cling to his shoulders, heart pounding.

You laugh out his name and his only response is to tighten his hold on you, a grin tugging at his kiss-swollen lips, before he turns and starts up the stairs, carrying you like you weigh nothing. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, your lips brushing the line of his jaw, and his low groan vibrates in your ear, spurring him to climb faster.

He kicks the bedroom door open with his foot, all too eager to finally have you in his arms, in his bed. He sets you down on the edge of the mattress, his hands lingering at your hips as though he can’t bear to lose contact. 

You’re about to tease him for being so careful, but the sight of him—flushed cheeks, hair a disheveled mess from your fingers, lips reddened—steals the quip from your tongue.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. As urgent as he feels, there’s that undercurrent of protectiveness, that need to check you’re here with him for all the right reasons.

Your smile is a little breathless. “I’m more than okay.”

He exhales slowly, like your reassurance is the only permission he needed to keep going. Then he nudges your knees apart so he can step in closer, pressing your bodies flush. The warmth of him is addictive—solid arms, broad chest, that steady heartbeat thrumming beneath your palms.

A shiver runs down your spine when he bends to brush a slow kiss along the side of your throat, teeth just barely grazing your skin. Your head falls back, and he uses the moment to trail more kisses along your jaw, your collarbone, mapping the curve of your shoulder as if memorising every inch.

“Lie down for me,” he whispers, voice trembling with the effort it takes to keep it gentle.

You slide back onto the bed, propping yourself on your elbows, and he kneels near the edge, guiding your legs up so you’re fully on the bed. His hand glides beneath your clothes, pushing it slowly upward, knuckles skimming the bare skin of your waist. His gaze locks with yours as he slips it off over your head, making sure you’re still okay with each inch of exposed skin. You can’t help the small, playful grin that tugs at your lips. 

“Careful, Harrington,” you tease, breath hitching when he plants a soft kiss at the center of your sternum. “At this rate, it’ll be sunrise before you get these clothes off.”

He huffs a little laugh against your skin, the warm puff of air sending a tingle racing across your flesh. 

“You deserve careful,” he says, words muffled by the increasingly desperate kisses he’s leaving along the tops of your breasts, your clavicle. “But don’t think for a second I’m not dying to tear everything off you, angel.”

His fingers drift to the waistband of your jeans, undoing the button and zipper with a focus that makes your stomach flip. He eases them down your hips, helping you lift so he can slide them all the way off. Then, with a featherlight touch, he glides his hands up your thighs, sending sparks of electricity racing through you.

“Steve,” you breathe, voice catching when he leans down to kiss your newly bared skin. He starts at your calf, working his way leisurely up, each press of his lips driving you a little bit more insane. By the time he reaches your inner thigh, you’re trembling—desperate for him.

“Look at you,” he coos, voice shaking with something close to awe. His fingers slide along the band of your underwear, and he gently pulls them down, letting them join your jeans on the floor. With each inch, he leaves more of you uncovered, and the intensity in his gaze leaves you feeling bare in more ways than one.

You try to close your legs, feeling slightly exposed with the way he is gazing at you, but his hand is firm as it grips your thigh, holding you open. You hold your breath as his fingers skim over your folds, head falling back as his thumb circles your clit slowly. 

“Shit,” he breathes out, second hand joining to gather some of your wetness on his fingers. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, angel.”

“Steve,” you murmur, voice quivering with need. Your fingers thread into his hair, urging him closer, your body already winding tight from the warmth of his breath against you.

“God,” he mutters, words muffled by another kiss to your thigh. “I’ve wanted this—wanted to do this—for so damn long.”

He shifts, situating himself more comfortably. Then, with a half-lidded glance in your direction, he leans in and presses his mouth against your clit in a way that shatters every remaining thought in your head. 

A soft cry tumbles from your lips, and he groans at the sound, pulling you in deeper, his grip on your thighs tightening.

He moves carefully, learning your reactions, letting your gasps and moans guide him. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, is a question: Is this good? More? Show me. And every time you arch your back or let out a ragged whisper of his name, he answers with another fervent, deliciously slow pass of his mouth.

"Fuck, angel, I could do this all night.” He dives back in. “Keep you here, keep you shaking over and over on my tongue."

He’s so tender in his insistence, balancing the sharp edge of hunger with a profound concern for your pleasure. One of his hands slides up to lace your fingers together, and he squeezes—almost like he’s grounding himself in the moment, sharing each pulse of sensation so you know he’s right there with you. The other hand strokes up your thigh and curls around your hip, keeping you anchored against him.

“Oh, God,” you gasp, voice pitching higher when he drags his tongue across your pussy with a pointed languidness. Your thighs tighten around his shoulders, and he shudders, his fingers reflexively pressing into your skin.

He pauses just long enough to rest his forehead against your thigh, breathing hard. His voice comes out in a low rasp, intense in its sincerity. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbles dazed as he returns to his ministrations. Lapping against you like he couldn’t possibly get enough. 

A wave of warmth crashes over you at his words—any lingering insecurities vanish beneath the heat of his devotion. You tug lightly at his hair, guiding him back, and he happily obliges. His tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes at first, building you up in a dizzying ascent, then quickens when your moans become urgent.

Your heels dig into his back, and you choke out something unintelligible—his name, a plea, a broken sob of bliss. He groans in response, the sound reverberating through your entire body, heightening the sensation until you think you might shatter from it. 

There’s something almost reverent in how thorough he is, like he wants to memorise every reaction, every hitch of your breath.

“You’re making the sweetest fucking noises, baby.” He murmurs. “Driving me insane.”

Tension coils in your stomach, winding tighter with each measured flick of his tongue. Your grip on his hand is borderline crushing, but he just grins against you, absolutely thrilled by the desperation in your touch. 

That’s all the encouragement he needs to push you closer and closer to the edge. His name tumbles from your lips again, a breathless entreaty, and he groans, the vibration sending sparks skittering across your skin.

He can tell you’re close—he can feel it in the way your hips jerk, the way your pussy clenches, the way your voice climbs. And he wants it for you, wants to be the reason you come apart so completely that you’ll never doubt his devotion again. 

“Come on, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” before diving back in with a perfect, rhythmic swirl that makes your entire body tense.

The tension snaps. A rush of pleasure bursts inside you, and you let out a cry that would embarrass you if you could think about anything but the ecstasy roaring through your veins. 

Your hands grip his shoulders, nails biting into his skin, and he moans like the taste of your release is exactly what he’s been dying for. He works you through every pulse, every aftershock, with gentle flicks of his tongue until you’re quivering in oversensitivity, pushing lightly at his head to let him know you can’t take another second.

When he finally straightens up to see you—lying back against his pillows, clad in just your bra—you spot a flicker of pure hunger crossing his face. He swallows hard and you see your release glistening against his chin as he does. He’s trying to keep himself tethered to sanity, but it’s a losing battle.

“Not fair that I’m the only one so… exposed,” you breathe out, hooking a finger into the hem of his jumper.

 “Impatient, huh?” He lets out a shaky chuckle as he licks his lips.

You roll your eyes in faux annoyance, tugging firmly at the fabric. He gets the hint. In one smooth motion, he yanks his shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere behind him. You catch a glimpse of toned arms and the lean planes of his chest, and it steals your breath all over again.

But he’s not done—he pops open the button of his jeans, sliding them down until they pool at his ankles, stepping out with a sense of urgency that has you biting your lip. For a moment, he just stands there, letting you take in the sight of him, hair messy, eyes blown wide with desire, wearing only his boxers.

“Better?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.

You drag your gaze up and down, unrepentant in your ogling. “Much.”

Steve’s eyes glitter with raw need as he hovers over you, his body pressed so tight you can hardly breathe. Every breath you take is steeped in the mix of his cologne and the sweet, desperate scent of your own arousal. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters under his breath, his gaze roaming over your curves with a barely restrained hunger. One of his hands grips your thigh, dragging it higher around his waist. “Don’t know how the hell I got so lucky.”

You can’t manage a reply—your breath stutters as he runs his other hand up your side, fingers skimming your ribs, his thumb grazing the underside of your breast in a fleeting touch. The contrast between how tender he’s being and the way his voice drips with a filthy promise makes you whimper, arching into his touch.

He leans in, teeth nipping at your lower lip before he kisses you slow and deep. It's messy and you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Fuck,” he whines, “I need you, sweetheart. Need you right now—can I?” His voice cracks with urgency, and you feel every syllable reverberate through your body.

“Yes,” you whisper, voice trembling with anticipation. “Please, Steve. I—”

He cuts you off with another kiss, sliding his hand between your thighs, which have only got stickier. He groans at the way you shiver, so worked up that you feel like you might combust if he doesn’t fuck you this instant.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “So wet for me.” Then, in a lower tone. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby—gonna make you forget anything else exists except how good my cock feels inside you.”

His words took you by surprise. Your usual sweet boyfriend was downright obscene with his words.

You knew he had a sharp tongue, but you had no idea how damn filthy he could make it. 

He reaches into the bedside table and tears the condom wrapper off with his teeth, making quick work of sliding it over his length.

The moment he lines his cock up at your entrance, you can feel the tension in his body—like he’s holding back a tidal wave of desire, absolutely determined not to hurt you, to make sure you’re comfortable.

“You good?” he rasps, voice tight.

“Yes,” you pant. “Steve… please.”

He exhales a ragged breath and pushes into you, inch by inch, until the stretch of him draws a moan so raw from your lips that he answers with a guttural “Fuck.” 

Your head falls back, the sensation an exquisite combination of pleasure and the ache of being so completely stuffed. He stays there a moment, trembling arms caging you in, nose brushing yours as you grip him like a vice.

“Angel,” he chokes out, voice thick, “You—you feel so fucking perfect. Look at me.”

You force your eyes open, meeting his gaze, and the ferocity of his desire sends another wave of arousal flooding through your veins, clenching around his length. 

“You feel that, sweetheart? Feel how deep I am?”

All you can do is nod dumbly as his hand presses on your lower stomach. He knows you can feel him there.

He starts a slow rhythm, hips rolling, each thrust calculated to bring you higher. And for all his filthy talk, there’s a sweetness in the way he cups your cheek, kisses your jaw, your collarbone, like he can’t decide which part of you he loves most.

“God, yes,” he groans, each thrust picking up in intensity. “You like that? Tell me you like it.”

“I love it,” you gasp, fingers clawing at his back. “Steve, you feel—God, you feel amazing.”

He lets out a breathless laugh that ends in another throaty moan as he angles his hips just so, making you keen against his lips. His pace quickens, every stroke hitting deeper, sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve.

“Fuck—baby, you’re so tight,” he hisses, his mouth at your ear. “So damn tight for me. Never want this to end—wanna keep you like this, under me, always on my cock—cumming so hard you forget your own name.”

Jesus, if you knew this was how he was going to talk, you would have given him the green light weeks ago.

He punctuates the filthy promise with a particularly deep thrust, and your toes curl, a cry spilling from your throat as you cling to him. You’re quickly losing yourself in the haze of his words, his body, his everything.

You utter his name in a choked sob, and it’s like a starter’s pistol. He shifts his angle just enough that the strokes perfectly grind against that sensitive spot inside your walls. The pleasure mounts in a dizzying spiral, your body tensing as you hover on the brink of release.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, voice gone ragged, snapping his hips more insistently. “God, cum for me, sweetheart. I need to feel it—want to feel it so bad.”

And with one more roll of his hips, you do—crying out, body arching as the orgasm shatters through you. Every nerve in your body lights up as you clamp down, and his guttural moan tells you he’s right there with you, grinding through your climax until he’s spilling himself into the rubber, breathing your name over and over like a prayer.

For a moment, you’re both lost in the aftershocks, hearts pounding, bodies tangled in the sheets. Then he sags against you, pressing lazy, tender kisses to your shoulder and murmuring small, breathless praises that make your cheeks burn with warmth.

The afterglow is still pulsing between you—soft, warm, and intimate. He leans down to press feathery kisses to your shoulder, your chest, up the side of your neck, murmuring words of reassurance and awe.

“You did so good,” he breathes, voice low and reverent. “So perfect.”

Heat flutters in your chest at the praise, and you can’t help but giggle, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair and guide his face to yours. Your lips meet in a searing kiss, slow and sweet. When you finally pull back, you find him watching you with those big, earnest eyes.

“Was I… okay?” he asks, cheeks turning pink in a bashful sort of way. “Like, everything good for you?”

“More than okay.” You let out a satisfied sigh, your body still humming with pleasure. “That was perfect.”

“Yeah?” he echoes, a shy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah.” You brush a thumb across his lower lip, feeling a spark of amusement as you remember the filth he whispered moments ago. “When were you gonna tell me you had such a dirty mouth?”

Instantly, his face flames. He cannot be blamed for what he said in the heat of the moment. It was hard to have a filter when he had you mewling underneath him.

“Hey, well, uh… I don’t… I mean, I—”

“Shh.” You chuckle, placing a finger over his lips “I loved it.”

“Oh yeah?” He exhales, relief and pride mingling. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind—my girl likes it a little dirty.” 

“C’mon, lover boy.” A fresh wave of laughter bubbles out of you. You let him help you up, your legs still a bit shaky. He steadies you with a strong arm around your waist and guides you to the bathroom so you can rinse off the sheen of sweat and bliss.

The shower is warm and comforting, the water sluicing away every last trace of tension as you help each other soap up and rinse off. When you emerge, toweling your hair and feeling the pleasant ache of satisfaction in your muscles, you notice Steve holding out one of his old T-shirts for you to slip on. You beam, tugging it over your head before crawling into bed next to him, the soft cotton drowning you in his familiar scent.

He pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. The hush of the room, the warmth of the covers, and the steady sound of his heartbeat lull you into a sweet, sleepy contentment.

“Hey,” he murmurs, turning so his nose brushes yours.

“Mmm?” you reply, lashes fluttering.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

Your heart clenches at the simple sincerity in his tone. “I love you too, Steve.”

And with that, his arms tighten around you, and you drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing that in the morning, you’ll both wake up in the same bed, same sappy looks on your faces, same lovesick smiles as you bask in the golden morning light. Steve will probably be watching you already, grinning like a fool, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your back, because he’s just that smitten.

[lowkeyremi]

This man can't help but turn his sappiness up by 100% on valentines day. He already worships the ground you walk on, but on valentines day? Expect everything he does in tenfold.

You awake to the smell of breakfast cooking, and not just any breakfast.. your favorite meal. He must have turned off your alarm, because you had planned to wake up early and make him breakfast.

A little hum leaves your lips as you walk into the kitchen to see red decorations covering every surface, hearts galore, the whole nine yards.

When did he have time to do this? The house looked normal before you went to bed.

You don’t even make it into the kitchen before he’s scooping you off your feet.

“Morning, lovely.” He says peppering your face in kisses.

“What’s all this?” You ask, kissing him back.

“Oh y’know. Just Valentine’s Day stuff. To show just how much I love you.” He says setting you down onto the counter, gingerly.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

After breakfast he’s treating you all day, not giving you the time of day to do anything by yourself, and it has nothing to do with power or feeling dominant, he purely loves you so, so much!

He takes you to all your favorite places, and when you complain about your feet hurting, he decides to carry you everywhere, no matter how embarrassing it may be.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

And then there’s dinner. In the past he may have taken you out to a fancy restaurant, but this year he decided to cook all of your favorites. And he ordered your favorite dessert for later.

“This looks delicious baby, thank you.” He’s pushed in your chair at this point, still standing behind you. You lift your head to kiss his lips and he reciprocates quickly.

“It’s no problem, honey. This is the least I could do.” The least?? Man you’ve definitely won in life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

What came after dinner had to be your favorite.

Once you were full, and satisfied, he carried you to the bed, kissing every inch of your beautiful body.

“God, I fucking love you, sweetheart.” He says, as he gets his fill of you. He thinks you taste so sweet, and he’s addicted.

After making love to you, he runs you a bath, (with flower petals, essential oils, once again the whole shebang) helping you in when it’s done.

As the two of you bathe together he massages all the spots where you’re tense.

“I love you.” He hums quietly.

You smile widely, you know he really means it, not just on today, but every single day, he loves you with his whole heart.

“I love you, too.”

BOKUTO, osamu, hinata, KITA, ushijima (hq)

NANAMI, yuta, choso, TODO (jjk)

keigo, aizawa, MIDORIYA, iida, KIRISHIMA (bnha)

RENGOKU, giyuu, GYOMEI (kny)

JEAN, levi, ARMIN (aot)

KEN KEN KEN!!!! (draken), mitsuya, hakkai, souya (angry), BAJI (tokyo rev)

banner by: cafekitsune !

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[livewiregoth]

I dunno why I find it funny that Constantine manages to get Danny to be like "Ok so I'm a bogus exorcist but I'm not bogus at doing my job"

Be kind of funny if after all this time eventually working with Danny, trying to get him to do shit properly, Danny helping as a repairman, Constantine thinking this guy is a normal guy with suspiciously strong abilities is the King of the Infinity Realm/the Ghost King. Like this guy that he maybe sees as a friend at times despite being annoyed of him that he has been convinced is a normal guy that's parents led to him learning to be a repairman & some how can be an exorcist even when half assing shit(well I guess fully messing it up) is the fucking king of the ghosts. Probably makes sense in some way due to the times they had to deal with some really bad demons like the time that made him finally confront Danny but still it's something he wouldn't have expected.

Even funnier(to me) is how he possibly finds out. Maybe there's a time were he just decides to ask the ghosts why Danny's power makes them leave despite not doing the exorcist shit right. Some are likely scared of his energy/aura(a part of me imagines this for ghosts that don't know yet/are newer), some say cryptic shit & some eventually finally admit who Danny is. Or maybe another way Constantine could find out would be on occasion the ghosts comment on Danny that make the blond realize there's more to his now coworker than he thought, probably brushes it off since he knows Danny can be a bit weird & as far as he knows oblivious even if strong but then someone eventually spills what's going on or says enough to figure it out.

Or some other thing leads to learning Danny is the ghost king, who knows.

I dunno I just think it'd be funny if Constantine thanks to something going on eventually learns the guy that went from some stupid bogus exorcist he hired as a joke that was good at his job to someone he sees as a coworker is actually the ghost king trying to make a living in the world of the living

Probably has some feelings about this(this guy he kind of grew close to lied(why are you surprised you knew he lied about the bogus shit), why is he going around as a human, why is trying to make a living when he's a king with duties in the Infinity Realm) but it's going to be interesting when he finally thinks things over, puts his thoughts together & what he does with this info afterwords.

Does he confront Danny or for once just lets things be? Maybe he lets whatever take its course & Danny eventually has a moment were he has to confess for some reason. There's a lot of scenarios that could happen, the options are infinite.

I'm likely thinking too much again

Another dpxdc prompt (sorry it’s been so long)

So Danny, now grown up and the ghost king, is looking for a job. However bc of his responsibilities as king a normal job won’t do. He would need to be able to make his own hours and such. He tried to be a freelance repair/electrical guy (thx mum and dad for those skills) but it never made that much money.

Then one day, prompted by a joke comment from Tucker about going back to ghost fights, he has a great idea!!

That’s how ‘Spook exterminator’ is born!! (He wanted to call it ghost busters but that was trademarked)

He essentially becomes an exorcist for higher and is very good at it. See what he didn’t know before this is that the ghost his use to, realm ghost, are actually the strongest type of ghost and as the king of them he is the strongest of them. This essentially means he has a ‘top predator’ vibe that sends most non realm ghost running before he even steps into the building. All he has to do then is call upon his inter theatre kid and put on a good show before leaving with a full wallet.

It’s not like he’s scamming them or anything. He is getting rid of the ghost! He just likes putting a little flare to it! Plus it gives him better tips.

Anyway cutting over to Constantine who, drunk out of his mind, thinks it would be hilarious to higher some bogus exorcist he saw a flier for and take them to the most haunted house he knowns just to see what happens.

He was definitely not expecting every ghost to hightail it out of there before the guy even step foot in the door. For a second he thought that maybe he was wrong about the guy being bogus and that maybe he was actually an very skilled exorcist but then he proceeded to do the most fake ritual he had ever fucking seen. The guy couldn’t even speak Latin!!

Needless to say John was very confused

[adieutristana]

Hey :3

could you please write arcane women with a chronically ill user? Especially a FAINTING CONDITION, I have one and I would love to see how would they react and take care!!

of course! thank you for the request <3

disclaimer that i do not have any experience with this kind of condition. i did some research and did my best to portray them accurately, but as always, i’m open to feedback.

summary; headcanons of arcane women and fem!reader with a fainting condition.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn

tags/warnings; hurt/comfort, fluff, chronically ill!reader, mentions of fainting (duh), medical talk

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* the first time it happened, jinx was in absolute shock. one second you were upright, talking to her about your latest endeavors. the next second, you looked a bit out if it, like your vision was starting to blur and you were becoming disconnected from reality. the next second, your body was going limp, and jinx was scrambling to catch you.

✧.* it'd be an understatement to say that she was panicking. she's shaking you, yelling at you, trying to manipulate you into a sitting position so she can try and figure out what's wrong. she got so desperate that she ended up pouring some cold water over your face, and that was what brought you back to consciousness.

✧.* she's bombarding you with questions as soon as she sees your eyes begin to blink open.

✧.* "what happened, toots?!" she'd ask, or, "you went all... blank, then nothing. what's that about?"

✧.* she can come off as a bit blunt with her questions, but she doesn't mean anything by it. jinx is just a girl with little to no filter- she genuinely is concerned.

✧.* you take a few moments to come back to your senses, all the while jinx is sat next to you with a hand gripping your knee, tight. it's both for you and herself, for jinx to reassure herself that you're here, you're alive, and you're (hopefully) okay.

✧.* once you're in a sound state, you explain to jinx that you have a fainting condition. you'd meant to tell her earlier, but it kept slipping your mind, until you'd actually fainted. you reassure her that it's nothing life-threatening, nothing that'll put you in danger (in most situations).

✧.* jinx still worries, of course she does. she worries about you when you're just going to the convenience store to grab water bottles, so her anxiety when you tell her about your condition is off the charts. regardless, she tries to hone it in and trust your word. you've lived with it for years, and you know your own health better than she does.

✧.* after the first conversation, jinx doesn't bring it up often. of course she'll talk about your condition if you're the one to mention it, but she doesn't want you to feel like she's treating you any differently.

✧.* tries to distract you with colorful smoke bombs, affection, and jokes after you regain consciousness most of the time. peppering your face in purposely wet and rushed kisses in an attempt to see you smile. she knows it'll take you some time to come to, but she wants you to be in good spirits when you do! jinx hates a lot of things, but none quite as much as seeing you unhappy or in distress.

✧.* but she keeps both her hideout and her bags stashed with things that'll help in case of another fainting spell. if there's one thing that jinx is, it's observant. she knows every one of your habits, your little quirks. she could write a damn novel full of things about you that you haven't even noticed about yourself.

✧.* and if she notices those telltale signs- your eyes beginning to cloud, starting to space out, losing your balance, she's on it. water is a given, she'll also usher you to sit or lie down so that you can focus on your breathing. if it's bad enough, jinx will try to guide you through some breathing exercises, even though she doesn't have a clue what she's doing. she's trying her best :(

✧.* "you're lookin' all... far away again. sit down, toots, breathe." she'd say, her face getting impossibly close to yours, thick brows furrowed.

✧.* does as much research as possible! there's not much that frustrates jinx than not being able to understand something. these things are like a puzzle to her in a way. she wants to be able to analyze, understand, and help. she knows there's really nothing she can do to prevent fainting spells, as much as she wishes she could. regardless, helping you through them becomes one of her most important self-appointed duties.

✧.* if she sees you standing for a bit too long, your girlfriend would make sure to ask you to take a little break. she doesn't want you to start getting lightheaded and have another spell when it might be preventable

✧.* jinx would also make sure that you're not close to any hard surfaces or corners if she notices you right on the brink of fainting. the last thing that she needs is you to hit your head on the corner of a table.

✧.* "hey- hey! get away from there," a jumbled mess of words, before wrapping her arms around your waist, slowly pulling you away from near a hard counter and supporting your fall.

✧.* she becomes pretty good pretty quick! it just gave her a scare at first is all :(

vi;

✧.* it was one of the first things you'd told vi when you first began dating- that you have a fainting condition. you faint from time to time, there's signs, and you can't control it. it happens, and it's bound to worry her, but you're okay.

✧.* she'd hear you and listen to you, vi always does. but i don't think the magnitude of your words would really sink in until the first time she witnessed a fainting spell of yours, and she was in shock.

✧.* she was utterly panicked. holding you across her lap, checking your pulse at both your wrist and neck, shaking you, trying to talk to you, anything.

✧.* it seems fruitless, and vi can feel tears beginning to prick at the corners of her eyes. she didn't realize the sheer depth of what you'd said until now, and the girl is internally beating herself up for it. you told her you had a fainting condition, of course you'd faint! how could she have not been prepared?

✧.* but eventually, you do start to regain consciousness. she immediately holds you close to her chest, whispering quiet and rushed 'ohthankjanna's and 'you're okay, aren't you? please tell me you're okay.'

✧.* it takes a moment for you to return back to consciousness, weary eyes looking up at vi. you can only slowly nod. it's not much of an answer, but it's satisfactory for vi- letting her know that you hear her and you're alright.

✧.* "i'm so sorry i wasn't prepared, you told me and i still-" "vi, love, stop. it's fine, i'm fine."

✧.* she makes sure that she's prepared for next time. she doesn't want to make you feel as if you're delicate, like you can't take care of yourself. vi knows you're more than capable, but still, she's your girlfriend and she wants to look out for you.

✧.* she asks you to describe everything to her- how you know it’s getting bad, what works to help you both before and after the fact. it’s vi trying to understand exactly what you need, rather than simply assuming.

✧.* after those conversations, your girlfriend does grow to recognize the signs and symptoms you have rather quickly. the moment she sees you start to look a little out of it, she’s pulling you away from anything you could fall onto, coaxing you to lay down or sit down with your head between your knees.

✧.* “hey, hey. sit down, okay? i’ve got ya, cupcake,” she’d whisper, her hand rubbing gentle circles into the small of your back. she’d press light kisses to your temple, plump lips a reminder of her presence and affections.

✧.* there’s always a few water bottles in her bag just in case though, and some snacks (your favorites, too) whenever she feels you may need them.

✧.* while vi did freak out after the first fainting spell you had, she learns to manage them soon after. now that you’ve talked to her and she knows what to expect, she can rest assured that you’re alright and you’ll come to with a bit of time and support.

✧.* once you do regain consciousness, she doesn’t make a big deal of it. VERY affectionate, though. she’s just so happy that you’re doing alright, she can’t help it… chaste kisses to your lips and tight embraces when she notices your light grumbles and your eyes fluttering open.

✧.* if you were having a conversation before fainting, she’d wait out the episode, then continue the discussion like nothing had happened. while vi absolutely worries, she doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or feel like she’s only focusing on what happened. unless you want to talk about it of course!

✧.* “you’re okay, right?” “mhm… just a little hiccup,” you’d murmur. “right. where were we?”

mel;

✧.* mel has seen people faint several times in her life and career, but i’d imagine you’re the first person she’s met with a fainting condition.

✧.* mel is a stellar listener, though. once you inform her of your condition, your symptoms, how it affects your daily life and how you navigate it, she’s taken everything to heart. mel may not fully understand, but she wants to try the best that she can.

✧.* asks a lot of questions. your girlfriend isn’t trying to interrogate you or pry any information from you, instead just trying to grasp your condition better. trying to prepare for the inevitable fainting spells you have and know exactly how to handle them. questions like ‘how do you know one is upon you?,’ or ‘what do you think helps best, when it’s said and done?’

✧.* so the first time that she’d witnessed an episode, mel knew exactly what to do. she saw the undeniable signs; the far-off look, the light sheen of sweat, the way you were ever so slightly off-balance. she sprung into action and guided you by your shoulders to lay down, legs above your chest and encouraged you to simply breathe through it.

✧.* “you’re sweating, love. and you look like you’re having trouble focusing,” she’d say- a statement, rather than a question. mel would take you by your shoulders and guide you to one of the lush couches in her home, ushering you to lay down. “come on, breathe. in, out… like that, yes.”

✧.* though she gets some close calls and is able to help sometimes, mel knows that she can’t always prevent a fainting spell. but she’s always there to break your fall, hold you across your lap, brush stray strands of hair from your face and run soft thumbs across your cheeks until you come back to.

✧.* so incredibly sweet and attentive once you come back to your senses. mel is peppering gentle kisses across your cheeks, forehead, the bridge of your nose, the corner of your lips. a light sheen from her lip gloss remains on your skin. she’ll take your hands in hers, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while your fingers intertwine with her own.

✧.* “you scared me there, darling,” she’d tease, soft lips brushing against your temple. “but that’s alright. you’re okay now, aren’t you?”

✧.* doesn’t dwell on it, though. mel doesn’t want this to be the focus of your day if you don’t want it to be, so she’ll give you your kisses and cuddles before letting go and continuing on with whatever you were doing, unless you ask her to keep giving you that affection. in which case she is more than happy to oblige!

✧.* she does have connections with doctors just in case she feels you may need one. it rarely gets to that point, but having those emergency contacts puts mel’s mind at ease. if you were to take a little too long to wake up, she didn’t react quickly enough and couldn’t break your fall, she’d know exactly who to go to.

✧.* mel has all of the essentials packed at all times. water, snacks, even a device to track your blood pressure when necessary. she’s stocked constantly, you’ll never want or need for anything with mel.

✧.* “that looked rough,” she’d say, crouching next to your form and holding out a bottle of spring water. “drink some of this, okay? even if you feel alright, it’ll make me feel better.”

sevika;

✧.* you swore that you’d meant to tell her, you were just waiting for an opportunity. a minute of peace in her chaotic days, maybe a tranquil moment after all the rough jobs and rushed fights.

✧.* but the ‘right time’ never came, sevika is a busy woman after all. by the time you have a moment to yourselves, sevika is washing up in preparation for bed, her eyelids already drooping. you know you need to tell her about your condition at some point, but you don't want to spring it on your girlfriend while she's this tired.

✧.* so when you're out at the casino, the woman playing a heated game of blackjack with you and a few of her old friends and you suddenly slump in your seat, sevika has no idea what's hit her. immediately she drops her cards, rushing to your side of the table to shake you, talk to you, desperately try to get you back to her.

✧.* "shit- dove, what happened?" she's saying. her voice is rushed and panicked, much unlike her usual gruff demeanor. "come on, please wake up..."

✧.* she stays by your side the entire time, simply waiting for you to wake up. her friends can wait, the game can wait, and she doesn't pay any mind to the lingering stares of other patrons. all that sevika can think about in this moment is you, and your well-being. she's never seen this from you before. she's panicked internally, but she's good at putting on a brave face for you.

✧.* the second your eyelids begin to flutter open, sevika is all over you. she was panicked, and most of all she was scared. as irrational as it may be, part of her was afraid that she was losing you- even though she was able to take note of the subtle rise and fall of your chest, and the fact your pulse was still steady.

✧.* once you're back to feeling yourself, fully, sevika would pull you out of the casino and onto the street for more 'privacy' (not much of that in zaun). she’s immediately going down a list of questions- if you’re okay, what happened, what caused it, if this is a recurring issue, and if you knew this would happen.

✧.* you explained to her, your gaze downcast and voice tinged with a hint of guilt. “i’m sorry, sev. i meant to tell you, just… the time wasn’t ever right.” she let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head. though she’s a bit shaken up by what just happened, sevika can’t bring herself to be mad at you. she understands where you’re coming from.

✧.* "there is no 'right time,'" she said, hand on your shoulder. her thumb rubbing slow circles against the fabric of your shirt. "you can tell me these things, especially when they involve you fainting." her tone is firm, yet there's no anger or malice behind it.

✧.* from that point on, you've been more open and willing to express things without the fear of timing or anything similar. you discuss your symptoms with her, the way your condition affects your daily life, how you work around it, the like. she listens and makes mental notes of everything you say, even trying to read between the lines at some points. sevika is that devoted and that concerned for your well-being. she wants to make sure she's prepared for whatever comes and she's able to be a good girlfriend through it :(

✧.* her home is STACKED with cases of water bottles, any medications that might help, and your favorite snacks. she's already made a substantial effort to make her once uninviting place more comfortable for you, but now she goes the extra mile- and you didn't even ask her to.

✧.* after a while, sevika comes to expect fainting spells and knows when they're coming on. she'll stay close to you, trying to talk to you and ground you in the moment- having you sit down, try to look at her, try to focus. but she knows that eventually you'll likely faint, and that's alright. as long as you're in a safe environment and she's able to look out for you, your girlfriend's mind is at ease.

✧.* “dove, you’re about to-” she’ll move to hold your shoulders, gently guiding you to a place away from any hard surfaces. “sit here, alright? i’ll get you some water.”

caitlyn;

✧.* it was one of the first conversations you’d had with caitlyn when you begun dating. now that you’re spending more time with the woman, you know it’s best to inform her before she finds out by you actually fainting.

✧.* caitlyn doesn’t immediately understand your condition, she’s never met somebody with a condition like yours before. however, she absolutely does want to understand and as soon as you’re finished talking, she takes a trip to one of piltover’s libraries to do some reading.

✧.* she reads about your condition, its symptoms, and how fainting spells can be treated. the signs that one is approaching. caitlyn would also read a few medical papers for good measure, just to see what professionals recommend. this is of the upmost importance to her.

✧.* the first time caitlyn was witness, you were thankfully in the comfort of her own home. helping her cook dinner, reaching up to the cupboards for some spices before you felt lightheadedness set in. caitlyn is perceptive- she noticed almost immediately.

✧.* she wrapped an arm loosely around your waist, trying to support the inevitable fall as she pressed soft kisses to your cheeks. "hey, i'm with you," she whispered. she didn't want to necessarily coddle you, but she wanted to remind you that she's there, first and foremost.

✧.* caitlyn feels you slump against her. she's keeping that same stoic face she's so known and feared for, but underneath the surface, she's terrified. terrified that you're not really okay, even though you've assured her this happens regularly and you're alright every time. terrified that she's doing something wrong, or even making things worse.

✧.* it takes a few moments, some gentle brushes of her hand against your arm in a motion meant more to reassure caitlyn, but you come back to.

✧.* "there you are, love," she murmurs, her hold on you tightening the slightest bit. "that was... scary."

✧.* "i'm alright, cait," you whisper, a weak smile on your face in an effort to reassure her. "i'm sure it's scary for you, but i'm okay. i promise."

✧.* caitlyn takes your word for it, you know yourself best. but even so, she can't help the nagging fears in the back of her mind, no matter how hard she tries to get rid of them. she's got water- expensive water stocked up, snacks, over-the-counter medical equipment, the like, all in her home for you.

✧.* her worries subside with time, but they never completely go away. they likely never will. she's your girlfriend, after all :( but she grows accustomed to fainting spells and almost-fainting spells as part of life. she's observant and intuitive, and cait is able to spring into action the moment she notices something is wrong.

✧.* "alright, that's enough," she'd say, her voice gentle yet firm. guiding you from the table you're cleaning. she sees the way you're starting to become a bit wobbly on your feet, and how your gaze isn't as focused. "i'll take it from here. lie down, love, i'll get you something to eat. alright?"

✧.* caitlyn is observant, but she doesn't ask for you to give her more than you're willing. verbally, she won't pry, she won't check in too often (unless she sees you looking unwell), she won't ask too many questions.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 14

ch 15 is done so y'all can have ch 14, these are getting longer and longer- If I somehow end up passing 4k words I'll have to break these into pt1 and pt2 🥲

Also- y'all can not rip Jason's finger tattoos saying "jailbird" from me, ever.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 14 >>next(TBC)

Your hands were shaking as Slade led you to one of the many bathrooms in the building, but despite everything, you were proud of yourself. You didn’t cry, that was good enough in your book. “You were fast with that throw. Not many get a hit on the man, as clumsy as he fakes being.” His voice only seemed to make you angrier.

You took a deep breath, exhaling softly. He hasn’t done anything to you, yet at least. You’re not angry at him- is what you had to repeat to yourself before answering. “I wish it was a knife.” Your face twitched at that. “That- was a very emotionally fueled answer- please don’t hold it against me.” Willson was more amused by the answer than scared or worried.

“You won’t be the first, and you won’t be the last.” The man took his handkerchief and dampened it, leaning against the marble sink as he handed it to you, and you thanked him while taking it. “I’ll hold you up to paying for the cleanup, by the way. I love this suit. Now- why did you really want to talk?”

“Straight to the point I see.” At his smile, you just shrug. “Never was one for pull and push games.” Perhaps it was your hormones, or just how much you’ve repressed your emotions for other human beings due to hurt, but his laugh made your cheeks flush. You were putting a pin on that feeling, for now just dismissing it as anger at the male species.

“I just want to talk, get to know you better.” He went to the modern toilet and took out its wall panel, pulling out a briefcase. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself. Among terrible people.” Slade opens the briefcase once it is on the marble top, revealing his gear and a clean pair of clothes. “So, you want to assassinate me?”

“Assassination is for world leaders, my dear.” The shit-eating grin definitely made you think whatever you were feeling was anger. “But you’re not far off. We have similar enemies.” You took the clean shirt he handed to you, took the wet wipes straight from the case, and went straight for the room divider, Slade turning his back to you. “So- what, you want me to help you and when push comes to shove, you’ll help me?” He could hear the doubt, the sarcasm, and the distrust. But he just smiled. “Yes.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Luthor just kept on looking at you for a few seconds as you lay face down on his emperor-sized bed. “Is that his shirt?” He got a muffled yes in response. “He hid a briefcase in your wall and gave me the spare, said he’ll come back with the clean suit… I so think he wanted to kill you or steal something you have here.” Lex just hummed at that, tapping his foot. “And?” You groaned. “Where do I even begin?”

“Well, you could start from the beginning?” Lex said while getting up and grabbing a set of pajamas and tossing them on your back. You sigh and place your head on your hand, turning your body sideways so you can look at him. “I have parental issues and a part of me finds his stupid eye-patch so hot.” You cackled maniacally as Luthor’s face soured. “Ok. How about we skip forward a bit?” He almost begged.

“Alright- wait-…” You take a closer look at the pajamas. “These are my size.” Your eyes meet his as he confirms with no shame on his mug. “Are you not going to ask why?” Sighing you just get up and move towards his bathroom. “You either want a kid or a wife and I’m not mentally sound enough right now for either one. And I’m sleeping with mom- I so do not believe you didn’t put cameras in my room, you weirdo.”

“I’m a paranoid billionaire genius. I have cameras in every room.” It was his turn to laugh like a maniac as he heard you call him a weirdo again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

With everyone out of the manor, it was finally time for Alfred to clean the whole bloody place. These moments were rare, and while Master Bruce insisted on him taking a break, he wasn’t a man to stay in one place for long without work.

He began from the ground up, the cave, the yard. The ground floor and the first level came and went, on the second level he may have gotten distracted by the new books Bruce got for Jason, and by the time the man of the house got back, Alfred was halfway done with the third floor.

Opening yet another door, his eyes immediately critiqued the dust, barely processing the objects before beginning to clean, starting with a little framed photo and the nightstand. It took him two looks before he registered what the picture depicted- a little girl at her kindergarten graduation event. He doesn’t remember Miss Cassandra this young, Master Bruce must have-

No… Cassandra never went to kindergarten. Alfred drops the cloth he was wiping off the dust with, head snapping around the room- Paintings, so many paintings,  drawing supplies. Medals, diplomas- the more of them he wiped with his gloved hand the more the man trembled, heart beating against his ribcage, the same way it did on the active battlefield- where were you?

A child- a whole child- no. He saw you- yes. In the garden, yelling at Bruce- that-… that was six years ago. Six years ago. Six bloody years ago. Somewhere in his panicked frenzy, a hopeful part of him just thought that maybe you changed rooms, yes, that’s why he began screaming your name like a madman, bursting through the rooms he hadn’t yet opened, screaming as he went down the staircase, rechecking rooms, scaring the kids that were in the manor.

Damian frowned at Cassandra and Tim. “Has Pennyworth lost it?” The girl didn’t even pay him any mind as she simply followed the elder. “No, he-… Where is she?” Tim tried to respond but the distraction got to him- he can’t remember the last time he saw you. Damian had no other choice but to follow as well.

Even though the old man used the stairs he was the first to enter the batcave, the kids following in the elevator. “-she’s missing-“ was what they caught, seeing the picture frame Alfred ran around with now clenched in Bruce’s hands.

“No.” Cassandra said softly, confusion clear on her face. “In London.” Alfred looked at the man as he tried to hide his fury. “You sent the young miss to London without even telling me?” Bruce immediately said a firm no, turning to Cassandra to ask how she even knew of that. “Is anyone going to inform me about who we are talking about?!”

Damian had enough, he didn’t like still being left in the dark about things that seemed this important. Tim repeated your name like it was obvious, but Alfred felt the world crash on his head. “Yes. So you all keep on saying, is that code for something?” The old man needed to sit down. They’ve never talked about her. They’ve never told him about her.

Tim was too tired to realize what Alfred did. He just called the boy rude, how could he not remember his other big sis. And it was the wrong thing to do. “I have another sister, and you didn’t tell me? Nobody did?!” The youngest boy snapped at his father before turning to look at everyone else.

Bruce- he was taking hit after hit tonight. He couldn’t come up with an argument to Slade, and he sure as hell couldn’t defend himself against Damian. The last time he remembered seeing you was when he ruined your garden. He slumped down in his chair, clutching the picture of your sad chubby face and the pitying look of the teacher, unable to take his eyes from it.

Where was he? He… He can’t defend himself. How could he? He didn’t even realize you were missing. How much has he missed? How many events and achievements has he ignored or brushed off? Did you leave that night, was that the last drop? He ignored his arguing kids, ignored how devastated Alfred looked… Jason said he was missing a bird. Bruce closes the open files on The Sorceress. “Tim, inform Dick and the others. Oracle. Call Red Hood. Now.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Lois sighed and turned to face her husband who was fully awake. “Ok, come on, confess.” Clark didn’t even flinch, not until she shook his shoulder. He side-eyed her before turning to also face her, sure that Jon was deeply asleep. “What I’m about to tell you should stay just between us.”

“The Sorceress is adopted, her dad is Bruce.” Lois raised a brow but before she could ask for more Clark continued. “I heard her brother and Lex inform the Immortal about it. The boy mentioned that, and I quote, the bastard didn’t pay attention to her for years and now has the gall to show up and act like he doesn’t know her. Lex was sure of the fact that Bruce didn’t even know that she had run away, to begin with, let alone how the kid he barely spent time with looked like anymore”

Lois took a while to soak in the information. “That’s…” She lies back on her back, staring at the ceiling like her husband once was. “If it’s true- it’s a new low for him. I'll look into it.” She looks at Clark. “Don’t let Jon hear that, he’ll-“

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“-and that’s what my dad said.” Jon, who was still in his pajamas, huffing from how fast he flew and talked, told Damian once they were in the security of the youngest Wayne’s room. The other boy just nodded. “Thank you for informing me, Jon. Make sure you do not repeat this to anyone else.”

“You should go back before your parents realize you’re missing.” Damian opened the window for the other teen. “Are you sure? Because if you’re not okay-“ Damian shook his head. “I’m perfectly fine, I’ll take care of this and give the information to someone who will be able to confirm what Superman heard."

The young super took a while before leaving, but the fear of his parents finding him gone was bigger. Damian on the other hand was already penning a letter. If the family kept such important information from him, he could too.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your day was- tiring. You may have overdone it a bit, studying for finals, the anxiety of giving your artwork in for the diploma, helping with clean up, training, helping Titan clean spaces for more housing- by the time you were done you were exhausted.

When the explosion went off, you didn’t even flinch, the text message from Mark saying “dnt wor abt it” was good enough for you. So, you just continued buying your little snacks and energy drinks for tomorrow and went on your way, floating as you simply couldn’t be bothered with walking.

If you were, perhaps, not as tired as you were, you would have been a little bit more concerned about the swarm of reporters or paparazzi, you couldn’t even try to figure it out. “Madame Sorceress! What is your relationship to Mr. Wayne?” and “Hey! Hey, over here! How do you know Bruce Wayne?!” and a lot of similar questions you couldn’t be bothered to answer. “Sorceress! Why do you have beef with Mr. Wayne?”

Now that stopped your movement. You slowly turned towards the person who asked, squinting at the redhead. “You want that in chronological or alphabetical order?” That seemed to trigger more questions and yelling, but your attention was on your ringing phone. “Sorry folk, I have to take this.” Sluggishly, you flew higher than they could be able to pick up with any listening device and answered. “Sup’ Red-“

Your brows furrowed. “Now they found out?... How much?” Jason just snorted. “B tried to interrogate me and when that didn’t work out, Alfred tried to tug at my emotions. Right under their nose and they’re still not seeing it.” You snort. “You’re creating yourself trouble. Just tell them, not like they can do anything now.” Jason knew, but this- the phone number, the texting, and silly pics, was something the other bats didn’t have access to. It was something only he had, that he didn't have to share with the others. He wants it to stay that way. “Nah, let them stew in it.” Jason snickered. “Whatever, Jailbird. Good night.” You roll your eyes, laughing when he yells that you weren’t supposed to know that.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger

A tiny little micro sneak peak of chapter 15 because I feel kind:

Jason was having a terrible week, starting with Ms. “I wouldn’t have been as forgiving if you didn’t die and came back kinder to me” Wayne- well- Grayson? He doesn’t know anymore- he’s close enough to just forging papers that say you’re his biological little sister just to fuck with Bruce.

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 731.

Well, after two long years of posting, I’m finally taking a break.

Thank you guys for everything for the past two years. It’s genuinely been so fun making daily doodles. But all good things must come to an end eventually. I’m tired.

What are the plans moving forward?

read below the cut if you’d like to know!!

Taking a break:

Life in general has been really rough lately. Tons of family drama, personal medical issues making it impossible to function some days, and my childhood dog recently passed away a few days after Christmas last year. So it was a real challenge to “keep up appearances” if you know what I mean.

I’ve said this plenty of times in the past already, however I’ll repeat it since there’s surprisingly a lot more new people that have followed since then. I’m taking a whole month off from posting entirely. So I won’t be active on Silksongeveryday until about March 14th. Why? Hopefully it’s obvious but posting daily content for two years straight really does something to you. I’ve grown tired of this blog just a little bit, and I feel stepping away from it for a month will help me reconnect. I still love the game and its community, and I’d hate for my disinterest in a single blog to ruin that. If a month long break could fix that then so be it.

I’m also taking a somewhat indefinite break from daily doodles. I WILL still be posting doodles occasionally every once in a while after I come back from my month long break. However I won’t be doing daily doodles.

So no daily doodles ever again?

There is only one condition that has to be met for me to return to daily doodles.

A Silksong release date is announced.

Which is…let’s face it, a release date might not happen any time soon. 6 years of near radio silence from TC? I’m not expecting much, especially not in a month.

But WHEN a release date is announced I’ll definitely return to daily doodles and do a sort of daily “countdown” until Silksong is officially out.

Will doodle requests still be open?

Yes! Even if I will no longer be doing daily posts I will still occasionally post every once in a while with doodles! So if there’s a specific doodle you’d like to request and you have an extra $1 hanging around, hornet doodle requests are open on my ko-fi!!

What about the current projects that were happening on Silksongeveryday?

I’m still working on them! Just as mentioned before, a lot of stuff happened irl so it’s kind of on the back burner.

For the Hornet Journal Series: I plan to post the remaining entries after I come back from my month long break. Whether I work on them during that month long break totally depends on how I’m feeling. But there may be a likely chance I work on a few here and there on my own time! But regardless, I do plan to finish this project. So no worries!

For Hornet’s Strange adventures: I know it’s been ages since this particular project finished on the blog. Development for the free game is slow going since I’m working on this project entirely by myself with a game engine I’ve never used before. Progress is being made but it’s unfortunately slow thanks for irl conflicts. But, just like the journal series, I do plan to finish this project so I promise it won’t be abandoned!! I just need a break first lol.

___________

I think that’s all I have to say?? But if anyone has any questions, asks are always open and I’m more than happy to answer just about anything!

Thanks again for the wonderful experience, it’s been an amazing journey with you guys <3

See you all in a month!!

[glystenangel]

bookworm🐛📚

Dom!Toji x Afab!Reader (Oneshot)

tags: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, toji actually works but irrelevant, outrageous levels of horny, raw sex, penetrative sex, anal, use of vibrators, dirty talk, praise, swearing, multiple orgasms, gettin hit from the backkk, slight edging, aftercare, idk what else

summary: you read smut and toji makes it happen

~ 2.7k words

thanks for reading and enjoy<3

_________________

Waiting for Toji to come home is always a chore.

Luckily, you have some light reading to keep you preoccupied, the most recent addition to your smut collection. Every page flip only turns you on more and more. As you peek over the covers to check the time, you’re certain that you’ll be hopelessly desperate before Toji even makes it home.

He’s twenty minutes late so far, though you know that even if it took him another hour you would forgive him as long as he gave you a thorough enough fucking. You had been living together for a few months already, and when he had initially learned about your literary taste, he demanded you read every sinful line out loud as he mercilessly ate you out. Not only that, but he had made it a point to stop whenever you tripped over any of the words or unwittingly trailed off. The memory pulses your thighs together, and you curse at having remembered the way Toji’s tongue swiped at your tear streaks after.

Memories begin to cloud your mind, only for sudden footsteps in the entryway to put you back on high alert.

“Babydoll, I’m back.” The rich sound of Toji’s voice curls in from the cracked open front door, and the baritone of it instantly makes your heart race.

You spring up from the couch, abandoning your book on the coffee table and rushing to his side with a happy exclamation.

“You’re home.” You wrap your arms around him, and he automatically leans down to gather you in his embrace. The way his gourmand cologne fills your lungs makes you sigh, and you can’t help but pepper eager kisses along his cheekbones in your lusty state. 

“Oh whoa, miss me that much?” His hands cup downwards, and his fingertips knowingly stroke at the wet spot between your thighs.

“What’s up with you? Read something dirty again?”

He tsks at you, but hauls you into his lap as he moves to sit on the couch. 

You nod, and he starts kissing at your neck, the familiar sensation of the scar on the outer corner of his mouth brushing against your throat and causing your breath to hitch.

“Okay, okay. Enough.” He laughs as he pulls away, and when he meets your eyes you already know what he is going to ask you.

“Well? How’d you want it? Show me.”

You lean back and pick up the book from the coffee table, distractedly leafing through the pages as he begins to grope at your body. You’re so sensitive from reading wanton filth that you arch into every heady squeeze and firm pinch.

You hold up the pages for him to see, and he takes them from you, attentively raking his eyes over the text and images. He keeps one hand on your ass, absentmindedly fondling the tender flesh as he reads.

“Doggy style? Can’t say we haven’t tried that one before. A couple of vibrators, okay…And then from the side, but a little more complicated…hm, alright.” 

He loosely holds the book up to the light, then turns it sideways to get a closer look. His thumb digs into the folds of the spine, thoughtful hums leaving him as his eyes study the pages with care. After a moment, his knee starts to bounce, and the agitated motion has your stomach tightening in anticipation.

Toji tosses the book aside once he finishes flipping through a couple more pages and gives you a conspiratory look, “No wonder you’re so excited. How’d you find something so lewd, huh?”

His hands mold around your waist, pushing you further down onto his tented crotch and grinding his hips upwards to stimulate your needy cunt until you’re desperately squirming in his lap.

He bites at your ear, teeth grazing the shell and warm breath gliding along the rising goosebumps on your skin.

“You have a filthier mind than I do. That turns me on so much.”

You yelp when he stands up to carry you to your shared bedroom, still rubbing his clothed hardon against the steadily growing damp stain between your legs. He sets you down, patting your head as a brief signal to wait as he rummages the bedside drawers for all of your sex toys before grabbing a handful and unbiasedly throwing them next to you.

“Alright, where were we?” He leans his palms on your thighs, a mischievous edge to his low tone.

“You were saying you like it dirty.” You place your hands on his chest.

“Is that right?” He doesn’t even wait for your answer, your tongue already reaching for his as he finishes his ask. As you swallow each other’s moans, he pins you down onto the bed and easily tugs off your clothes until you’re trembling with excitement in your soaked underwear.

“Did you wait until I got home or did you touch yourself already? Because last time I caught you…Well, you know how that went, don’t you?” He slowly peels off his shirt and unbuckles his pants, the imprint of his massive cock and its straining against the zipper already making you drool.

“No, you’re the only one who makes me cum Toji. I only want you to.” You vigorously shake your head, grabbing at his well defined sides so that he’ll release his boner faster.

“Oh? So good, maybe I’ll reward you for that. Though I think either way you’ll take whatever I give you, right?”  He finally unsheaths his weighty dick, palming at it with a hand before ripping off your panties.

You let out a gasp when he places it on top of your pussy, digging your nails into his arms as he cages you with his body and starts sliding the girth up and down your sticky entrance. Your slickness leaves strands of precum along every inch of the veiny length, and he reels his hips back to prod the tip against your slippery folds. You stay still, knowing to be patient or he’ll tease you for another hour. 

Toji lifts your chin with an approving smirk, “So fucking cute.”

Then, he flips you over and arranges you to match your smutty reading, with your leaky hole and tight ass lifted in the air. You squeeze your legs together for some temporary gratification, only to throw your head back at Toji pushing his cockhead between your thighs. The fleshy rod of skin gets wrapped in earnest, getting you more and more hungry for his cock inside of you.

In contrast to your desperate whimpers, you can hear Toji calmly humming before the electric buzz of a vibrator pierces the air.

“Alright.” He chuckles, and you involuntarily flinch as he prods the tip of the vibrator against the puckered hole of your ass.

“Come here, don’t run. Doesn’t it feel good?” He swirls it around, the slick lube and the click of buttons on the device making your mind fuzz as he pushes it deeper, “Is it too much?”

You shake your head, rubbing your cheek against the sheets with mindless fervor.

You know this is just the start, and you didn’t have enough tolerance for delayed gratification today.

“Good.” He maneuvers the rest of the vibrator inside of you little by little, letting you suck at the rubber until it plugs your butt with whine inducing shivers.

Toji slides his cock against your folds once more, letting the head kiss at your puffed up clit.

“Goddamn. So wet already.” He grunts, taking his hands off of you.

At the loss of contact, you wriggle your hips in his face with obvious vocal displeasure.

“One sec, princess.” You hear the click of a second vibrator being switched on, and you brace yourself as Toji strategically places it underneath you.

The heavy weight of his hands return to your body, and he slowly guides you downwards. The expected vibrations still cause tingles of pleasure to erupt from your core, and you bounce your hips to hear the sticky sounds of your mess being splattered between your thighs from the vibrator’s rapid movement against your clit.

“Oh, oh…” You weakly whine out the syllable over and over, rolling your hips into every sensation.

“Good?”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you blindly squeeze at the sheets to concentrate on Toji’s question, “Mhm, s-so good.” 

“I’ll just hold you then, we can feel good together like this. I promise.” He whispers, bending down and planting soft kisses along your spine.

Toji then grabs a fistful of your hair and the grip of his fingertips along your scalp makes your eyelashes flutter. A thoughtful hm leaves him, and you feel the curl of his smile against your back when he places another kiss to the skin there. Then, he carefully feeds his cock into your drenched entrance. 

The full feeling unfurls in your stomach, complemented by the vibrators’ administrations and Toji’s hands roaming your pliant curves. Once his hips are completely pressed against your ass, a gasp mixed with relief and contentment escapes you.

“I’m really sorry I kept you waiting, doll.” Toji lifts your hips slightly, and you minutely shake your head in protest at the distance created by the movement, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you now.”

He pushes forward again and the searing stretch has you moaning immediately, but you only get noisier when Toji starts quickly thrusting every greedy inch in and out of your leaking slit.  

Every wet smack is echoed by your intensifying mewls as you tighten around him and squirm against the vibrations. Sticky, slick sensations flood your pussy and leave a mess of webbed precum around his cock whenever he draws his hips back.

Toji’s exhilarated grunts don’t help either, especially when he begins to talk you through your heightened arousal.

“It’s exciting, huh? Feels better than reading, doesn’t it? Better than you imagined?”

He grins, tugging your hair in his palm until your tear soaked eyes stop rolling long enough to look at him,  “Eyes here, babydoll. Look at me.”

“I love it when you look at me. I love it, I love it.” He pants, licking his lips and fucking you harder into oblivion, “Love watching you break under me. Gonna break and breed you.”

Your knees wobble beneath the tense arch of your back, but you barely notice as Toji drops your hair and curls his fingers into the bend of skin between your hips and thighs, “Fuck, you’re tightening up. Feels damn good with the vibrations, fuck.”

The swollen head of his dick prods into your womb, and you let out a gasp when it makes you involuntarily buck your hips farther up against Toji’s sweat sheened abs.

The smooth muscle of your pussy squeezes around him, forcing you to see white as he plows deeper inside of you. You can feel his balls squish against your ass, the heavy feel of them making you ache for his cum.

“You feel that? I’m fucking into your cervix. God, I can feel it sucking at the tip of my cock. Can’t wait to fill you up. Gonna fuck you and fill you until you’re cum-dumb.” He swears, fingertips indenting your flesh with need.

“Dirty girl, is this what you like? Being fucked like this?” Toji spanks your ass, and then fiddles with the end of the vibrator still sticking out of it.

He pulls it out and then drives it back in, languidly and then more quickly, “So damn greedy. I like it.”

Toji handles the vibrator with primal delight, harshly gunning it into your ass while maintaining the feverish pump of his cock. You can feel the squish of every sensitive little nerve inside of you, and how good Toji is at fucking each one.

Little fragments of words and exclamations of pleasure manage to escape you, but you know that you’re hardly making any sense. 

You just want to cum.

You repeat the desire over and over in your head, gleefully sucking at Toji’s hardness with your pussy until you’re dripping onto the sheets. 

He gets deeper and faster, expertly dragging his cock through your syrupy walls and hitting every blissfully mind melting spot. 

Your whole body seizes underneath him, and you cry out from the sting of ecstasy flooding your body, the shudders rippling from your center, and from the fact that Toji continues fucking your cunt open.

“Cumming already? Aw, that’s too bad. Cum again. Come on, cum for me again, want it all over my cock. That’s right, oh yeah.”

The consistent gush of fluid keeps you shaking in his hold, and Toji grinds into you with satisfaction.

“You keep cumming-ng.You’re squirting everywhere, must be so happy huh? It’s fun for you, huh? Such a cute slut for me.”

Another excited wail, and more cum bubbles out of your tight hole, seeping around the sides of Toji’s eager cock.

“Perfect, keep slobbering on my cock with your wet little pussy, gonna stuff it all back in.” He’s breathless in his speech, the raspy sounds wrapping around your brain and making you dizzy, “Here, open up. Good.”

The next few groans that fall from his lips are so desperate and hot that your vision blurs, “The best pussy. God, you turn me on. Ugh, I’m losing my mind. Gonna cum.”

His chest is against your back, and every pound of his cock makes the bed rattle beneath you from the force.

He sweeps your hair aside so his lips can brush against the shell of your ear, “Wanna have my babies? Hm? Want my cum inside?” 

“Yes, oh, yes, yes, yes! Toji!” You scream, and a dark, breathless laugh clings to his throat.

“Yeah? So cute.” He kisses your neck, and then hits the ceiling of your pussy with a strained whine.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” Toji rams into you harder, more impatiently, “I’m- Cumming, fuck!”

The warm, wet rush of his cum fills you to the brim, and you can feel the delicious splatter of it across the plush of your ass and down your thighs.

He pulls you up against his front and starts avidly pumping again, moans spilling out from the feeling of him mixing your cum together in your womb. The continuous buzz of the vibrator and Toji’s enthused bite marks make your shoulders bristle with chills.

“That’s it, that’s- Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” Toji squeezes your perked tits in his warm hands, “But- So are you, right? Cum with me.”

He bounces you off of his hips, harshly pistoning into you and plugging your pussy so nicely and tightly that you can’t deny him anymore.

“Gonna bring you new books. I want to make you cum every goddamn day. Fill you up until your pussy can’t take anymore and you stop whining for cum. You’d love that, wouldn’t you babydoll?”

You nod, unable to speak.

“Yeah? Give me a kiss then.” You can hear the mischievous smirk in his voice, and then on your lips as you climax on his cock again.

He surrenders into the kiss you tug him down for, making satisfied hums into your mouth and slowing his hips to a stop.

Melting into the embrace, you relax into the sheets together and remain wrapped around one other. Toji’s harsh breaths tickle the back of your neck, and the bliss of your orgasm thuds dully within you until Toji briefly rises to clean you up and set aside the vibrators.

When he finishes, he gently nestles you back into his arms and circles every purpling bruise on your body with a reverent sweep of his thumb, “You’re so good.”

He affectionately moves to kiss your shoulder and then hugs you closer, “You sleepy yet? Or…”

The subtle heat of his palms as they glide across your skin have you leaning into every touch.

“No…not sleepy.” You hoarsely mumble.

More from Toji was always exactly what you wanted.

You lift your head, “You’re not sleepy, right Toji?”

The beckoning tone of your voice comes out sweet and seductive. 

Toji licks at the scar on his lip, disguising his growing excitement with an innocent press of his lips to the back of your ear.

“Another round it is. I saw a couple of scenes I liked too…you don’t mind, right?”

_________________

End Notes:

inspired by lady k and the sick man in case u didn't notice lol happy valentine's day yall! :)<3

[delugyu]

hear me out on this, delusional bsf but it’s a whole other level, like he’s planning a wedding, has a ring hidden in his room and you’re introducing him to everyone as your friend but he’s so confused, like wdym friend? he buys you flowers every other day, you’ve kissed (like twice), isn’t that what what ppl do in a relationship?

happy valentine’s day! here’s some obsessed bff soobin as my gift to u <3

(wc: 2.6k / warnings: soobin is down tremendously bad and he’s kind of a perv, smut (mdni), oral (f rec), cumming untouched 🤓, idk if this counts as somno but ill tag it just in case)

Soobin thinks you must be misunderstanding your relationship. You keep telling people that he’s your friend, but that’s not how he feels at all. Soobin has taken care of you ever since he met you, he’s bought you thousands of dollars of gifts, he takes you out to nice restaurants, and he’s even tasted your lips once or twice. You’re pretty much dating at this point!

He’s left pouting beside you as he watches you ramble on and on to your friend about drinks and future plans and whatever else that gets filtered from his ears. Here he is, hand in hand with you, standing across from someone who’s supposed to think you’re just friends. The word suddenly feels like an insult, like it’s undermining the true nature of what’s happening between you two.

If you were to ask him, Soobin wouldn’t hesitate to call you his girlfriend. He spends his days counting down the time that has to pass before he sees you again. He dreams about what the family you build together one day might look like, how your daughter will have his eyes and your smile. He gets so caught up in the fantasy sometimes that he goes to jewelry stores just to browse through engagement rings that you’d like. He already bought two separate rings for you, keeping the little boxes tucked away in his nightstand until he’s finally ready to ask you.

He wants to sweep you off your feet and steal your heart from any other man. He hates it when you laugh at some other guy’s jokes, or if you even smile a little too brightly for someone else to see. It’s with a sense of shame that he swallows his jealousy down; he knows he shouldn’t be so upset when you still just see him as a friend. He also knows that he won’t speak up and stop you from introducing him as your friend—he’ll have to be content with his feelings being one-sided for now.

When he takes you back to your place, his eyes land on the vase of flowers you placed on your counter. Soobin notes that they’ve probably still got a few days of vibrancy left before he should buy you new ones. He stands with his hands held behind his back, still lingering by your door, waiting for you to tell him goodbye or ask him to stay.

His heart skips a beat when your hand lands on his shoulder. You have to tilt your head up when you're standing this close to him in order to look him in the eye, and something about that makes Soobin feel dizzy. He’s a gentleman, though, and he doesn’t let it cloud his mind too much. He has to remember that you’re like a fragile doll, and he can’t be such a wolf like all the other men are.

“Did you wanna stay with me tonight?” you ask, voice soft and sweet like it always is. His lips tilt up as he nods excitedly. He was hoping that you wouldn’t want him to leave.

He follows you into your bedroom, thanking you when you hand him some clothes to change into. He’s learned to leave some of his clothes at your place for nights like this. He heads to your bathroom so that you have enough privacy when you change out of your dress, always trying to be respectful and considerate of you.

He tries not to think too much about you slipping your dress off, how the material would pool at your feet and leave you in some cute lingerie set. He gulps as he takes off his jeans, looking up at the ceiling so he doesn’t imagine you kneeling on the floor in front of him. He changes into his sweatpants as quickly as he can, then throws on his shirt and shakes away the images haunting his brain. How dare he think such impure things of you? You’re so pretty and delicate, and he’s awful and disgusting to want to defile you.

He stares at himself in the mirror, standing in place for an extra minute just in case you need more time to get fully dressed. He wouldn’t want to walk in on you changing—the thought sends a shiver down his spine. You’d surely think he was a creep if you saw the things he thinks of.

When he finally comes back to your room, you’re already laying in bed, tucked comfortably underneath your blanket. He gets in bed beside you, waiting for you to cozy up to him. He looks at you expectantly, which makes you grin and throw yourself into his side. He laughs as you do so, letting his hand run through your hair.

You hum and lean into his chest. He prays you don’t feel how hard his heart is beating. He catches a glimpse of your hand, and his eyes linger on your ring finger. He wants so badly to fill the empty space there.

“Are you tired?” you ask him. He can hear the sleepiness in your voice. Like everything you do, that too makes him swoon.

“I’m not,” he says, keeping his voice quiet so as to not disturb your peace.

“Well I’m going to sleep,” you announce with a yawn. Soobin continues running his hand through your hair and down your back at a slow, steady pace, repeating the action to help lull you to sleep. He places the tiniest peck on the crown of your head and wishes you a good night.

Nothing makes Soobin happier than this. He has you all to himself, a moment that no one else gets to see or know about. It feels so domestic, like he’s already living in that faraway dream where you’re his wife and you love him dearly.

You stir in your sleep and let out a little hum. Soobin tries to be still and not wake you, but he also tries to not let your noises reach his cock. You emit another tiny moan, and he takes a deep breath to keep it from affecting him. He’s mentally scolding himself for being such a pervert, for being so turned on by things you have no clue you’re doing.

When you start moving around more, Soobin considers putting some space between you. You’re a light sleeper though, and he wouldn’t want to wake you up. That’s the only reason. Otherwise, he’s sure he would have nudged your leg off of him and given you some room. He’s a gentleman, and you’re a delicate flower.

Soobin gasps when he feels your hips cant against him. His face is burning, and he registers with an immense amount of shame that he’s getting hard now. Should he wake you up? Should he at least push your leg down a little? There’s a scarily small amount of space between his bulge and your thigh.

If only he were asleep. He wouldn’t be tortured by your jolting legs or your sleepy sounds of pleasure. You must be having a wet dream. God, Soobin might bust in his sweatpants right now. He needs some air, but he can’t get up.

He shouldn’t help you, right? Even if it would end the suffering for both of you… He can’t help but indulge in the idea a little. He imagines rolling over so he’s hovering above you, waking you up with a hundred kisses against your face and neck. You’d smile up at him so groggily when your eyes finally flutter open, wondering what your sweet best friend is doing.

Oh god, no, that’s perverted; Soobin can’t be thinking these kinds of things. He’s so hard he can’t stand it, and your soft moans leaving your lips aren’t helping him. He doesn’t want to embarrass you, but he can’t not get up now, at least to run to the bathroom and take care of his problem.

As soon as he sits up, he can tell that you’re stirring awake. His eyes widen, looking down at his side to see your sleepy eyes looking up at him. You’re so confused. It makes Soobin’s dick throb in his pants. Ugh. He hides his face in his hands.

“Soobin…” you mutter out, hand clutching onto his arm to drag him back down beside you. He gives in easily—he always does. He gulps when he looks at you, faces so close. You’re still tired, he can tell by your slow blinks. You’ll be falling asleep again fast.

You whine and tuck your face into his shoulder. Soobin shuts his eyes tight and uses all his might to not think with his dick.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

You don’t respond through your sleepy haze. He notes how hard you’re breathing. His head spins, wondering if you’re still horny. He wants nothing more than to help you out, so much that it fogs his mind and makes it hard to think straight.

Your thighs press together, and that’s when Soobin feels himself start to lose control. This is bad—he can’t do this to you. He’d be so sweet, though, he knows this. He’d touch you so gently and make sure you’re satisfied. He’d pull every noise he could out of you, cherishing each and every little twitch of your body. He needs you tremendously.

“A-are you…” Soobin starts, but can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He’s already shaking so much from his self-restraint, you must be able to feel it.

Your leg brushes against his erection then, and the world comes to a standstill. Soobin doesn’t even breathe. He’s beyond mortified. You must think he’s a filthy piece of shit, he should’ve just taken himself to the bathroom, you probably hate him now.

“I’m sorry,” he’s rushing to say, sitting up again so he doesn’t have to poison you with his presence. “I’m so sorry, I promise I wasn’t”—

“Please touch me,” you say, cutting him off. Your eyes are so big and sparkly when you look up at him. His mouth is dropped open, not knowing if this is real or not.

“What?” he asks in a whisper, making sure he heard you right. If you said what he thinks you did, he might spill his load on the spot.

You bring a hand between your thighs, pathetically rutting against it. Soobin weakens at the sight, meeting your eyes and hoping to see some sort of desperation in them.

“Please, I need you. Woke up so wet,” you whine. Soobin moves as fast as he can between your legs. Every hope he had of taking things slow is thrown out the window—he’s far too needy to take his time with you. He’ll make sure to do it some other day.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry, I’m right here,” he rambles as he rids you of your shorts and panties. He holds your legs open, staring at your leaky pussy with awe. He feels himself short-circuiting. Is he dreaming? Is this moment finally happening? He has to make the most of this. He needs to make this perfect for you.

He kisses your hip bone then licks a stripe up your cunt, moaning as soon as his tongue meets you. He almost feels like he could cry. He’s waited so long, so patiently. You’ve finally broken, and you only want him to piece you back together. His cock is straining against his boxers, leaking profusely at the tip, but he ignores it completely to focus on you.

His tongue presses firm licks against your clit, then swipes quickly against it to get your legs trembling. He thinks it’s so cute how much you’re shaking already. You needed him to give you relief, he tells himself as he presses his face deeper into your cunt, so he has to make sure he delivers. Your cries motivate him to keep going, it has him obsessing over how much pleasure he can provide you.

His tongue moves down to your fluttering entrance, and his stomach clenches when he realizes how empty you must feel. His poor baby, he’ll help you out. He stuffs his tongue inside you, making sure his nose stays pressed against your clit. He moans at your taste and the way you tighten around his tongue. He licks and laps at you as much as he can, determined to get his fill of your arousal.

Soobin can’t help it when he starts fucking the mattress, hips moving on their own accord. Your own hips are grinding down on his face now, and he knows now what true desperation feels like. No other feeling has he experienced so strongly as the need to have you cumming on his tongue. You flood all of his thoughts and his senses, he’s completely devoted to getting you off and making you happy.

“Soobin! Hnng—I’m..!” You don’t have to finish your sentence, Soobin knows. He feels you tightening over his muscle, which he continues to fuck into your hole with as much vigor as he possesses. He pants against your cunt, so ready for you to fall over the edge, going insane to know what it feels like to have you fall apart because of him.

You cum with a whine, body twitching all over as your orgasm hits you. This is the moment Soobin has waited for, and it’s beyond anything he could have imagined. He’s spilling in his sweatpants the moment your thighs close around his head. His hips stutter against the mattress as his seed bursts out of him. This is the best moment of his life.

He commits it all to memory: your breathy, whiny noises and the shake in your legs. The way your breath hitches and how your walls feel clamping down on his tongue. You’re so tight, he can’t imagine how he’ll ever fit his cock inside you. He’ll never be the same after this.

Your hand tugs at his hair to pull him away, and he obliges. He looks at how wet you are now, a mixture of his saliva and your arousal pooling at your center and down your thighs. His eyes almost roll back, he can’t believe you finally let him take care of you like this. He’ll touch himself for the rest of his life remembering this moment.

Your smile is just as gorgeous and heart-stopping as it always has been when you pull him up to you. He collapses on top of you as he regains his breath. He presses kisses against your collarbones, wanting to make sure you feel cared for.

“Thank you, Soobin,” you say, wrapping your arms around him. He feels like he should be the one thanking you. You’re amazing.

“Please be my girlfriend,” he blurts out before he can even think of stopping himself. He can’t imagine not being able to do this with you again. He’s not sure what even gave you the courage to ask him to do this, but he needs you to keep letting him have you.

You giggle, and it nearly makes Soobin’s heart explode. “I was wondering when you were gonna ask me that,” you say, holding his face up so he’s looking you in the eye.

Soobin’s dumbfounded. He feels everything at once. He’s ecstatic that you didn’t reject him. He’s dizzy from the love burning his body up. He’s regretful that he didn’t ask you sooner.

“I’m in love with you.” He decides that if it’s time for him to get everything off his chest, he might as well say that part too. You press a quick kiss to his lips, and he has to keep himself from passing out.

“I love you too,” you say, smiling so dreamily and brushing his hair back.

Oh god. Soobin might just cum untouched again.

[rising-starrr]

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲ō𝐦𝐞𝐧 - 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é !

warnings : Sukuna has never celebrated Valentine’s Day at all, he spoils you, you two end off the night with sex, jealousy - a servant tries giving you chocolate, killing, true-form! Sukuna, he has two cocks, and can spawn tongues anywhere, he overstimulates you, pet names - princess, ‘pet’, he calls you wife even though y’all aren’t even married yet. Mating press, breeding, DP, P in V, public sex, and more that will come up. afab!reader implied, female pronouns, poc!reader.

(a’s note ! - there’s porn links hidden in here, hope you find them ! y’all gonna be reading books at night so ima say this now, y’all got light, idk how but yall got light.)

𐙚 It was February 14th. Which meant it was Valentine's Day, so you decided to decorate one of the many rooms throughout the household that Sukuna said you could use whenever you were mad at him.

you knew he wouldn't really care for this type of stuff since he always said it was ‘foolish mortal stuff’ but then again he did celebrate everything with you if you asked nicely, or threatened him. Only he knows when he wants to be nice to you.

“wife. what are you doing?” you hear sukuna say from behind you, you don’t jump or anything you’ve gotten used to him appearing out of nowhere. “I’m decorating Ryõmen, what does it look like?” You question.

Ryōmen remembers when you two were being so affectionate, he love when you two are getting it on and that’s always what causes him to zone out when he’s looking at your sweet ass. “What? Don’t get smart with me brat.”

He simply rolls his eyes and walks over towards you. “we’re going out tonight. Be ready in an hour.” He says, not allowing you to respond before he leaves back out.

𐙚 You got ready in that hour he gave you, wearing a dress he had recently brought you. “Ryōmen. What do you think?” You question, spinning in a circle as you approach him. He just gave you a small nod, before fixing his tie and turning to you, he thought you looked beautiful.

He planned to take you to a restaurant, and afterwards he was going to take you to the beach, of course at a time when no one else was there that way he can be alone with you, though of course he would never act on it without you consenting.

He would hope you wouldn’t be a brat tonight, that way he doesn’t have to gag you like usual during your little acts. “Ryōmen! I’ve been calling your damn name for ten minutes, are we leaving or not?” You question, finally seeing him snap out of whatever daze he was in. He just nods, and grabs your hand, taking you outside to the car.

One of the driver’s opens the door for you and him, and allows you two to get in the car, before going back to the driver’s side and driving off to the restaurant. Once the car stops, Sukuna puts a blindfold over your eyes and leads you inside the restaurant. He sits you down before taking off the blindfold.

It was a neatly decorated Valentine’s Day themed booth, that he personally decorated just for you, he wanted everything to be perfect just for you. “Do you like it wife?” He questioned, sitting down as he puts the present he brought you on the table and pushed it towards you.

You nod and begin to open the present, pausing before you continue to ask for confirmation to open. He gives you a small nod, gesturing you to open it for him. you listen and begin to open the present. It was a camera, a promise ring, a new bathing suit, an anklet with his initials and yours, a necklace with his initials, and earrings.

“Oh! This is quite a lot, but thank you Ryōmen, I love you so much.” You murmured, storing it in the bag he brought with the two of you. He just grunts and orders the two of you food, allowing you to get whatever you want.

𐙚 After you two ate, he took you to a nearby beach. Now you see what he brought you a new bathing suit for. you take the bathing suit and go change, it wasn't as windy as it normally was tonight.

When you finally came out the bathroom, he had set up multiple towels so you two would be comfortable. He was currently sitting down on the towels, his head resting on his arm as he read the book he brought along.

He looks up, seeing you finally came out the bathroom, he moves the book, and pats the spot next to him, signaling for you to sit down. you sit down next to him and hum.

“took you long enough brat, now you wanna go get in the water with me or you wanna stay here?” he questioned, waiting for your answer before getting up, all you did was stay seated as a single you wanted to stay at the towels. “Let’s stay here.” You say, laying on your stomach as you began to read a book.

He felt horny just looking at your backside. He hums and grabs you and forces you onto your hands and needs. “Can I?” He questions, waiting for your nod of approval. And you give him the nod of approval.

He grins and pulls down your underwear, and pushes down his boxers and swim shorts. He does a few lazy strokes before positioning himself at your entrance.

You let out a moan, allowing him to push himself inside of you as you two fucked in a public space. Luckily no one was around. His hands gripped your hips, trying to angle himself deeper inside of you as just you just hoped your arms wouldn’t give out or your legs in this moment.

“Feeling good?” He questioned, as he bent down and covering your neck in kisses. You just let out a moan mixed with a shudder. Of course you felt good, he was fucking you so nicely on the beach, you didn’t have a care in the world if you two got caught.

He just kept thrusting until you came on his cocks, eventually cumming right after you did. He picks you up, wraps a towel around you and puts you in the car as he grabs the rest of you guys' stuff and goes to the car.

He mumbles an I love you to you, and allows you to fall asleep on his lap until you get home. Once you two get home, he washes you up and lays you in bed. “Happy Valentine's Day, my wife.”

He lovesssss when your small body is taking his big cock.

Sukuna might have to put a baby in you after all.

You were needy while in the car so he fucked you while you two were being driven back to the mansion.

EDIT: pretend this was posted on Valentine’s Day at 12am !!

Tagged: @babyblue0t7 - technically another part to the other things since I never did Sukuna 💗 Oops.. you already saw it😭😭

[muhlsworld]

HARD LAUNCH

pairing: caitlin clark x fem!reader

synopsis: caitlin finally reveals her relationship with you

WARNINGS: none i think

you can find the request here and here!

caitlin and you had been together since your freshman year at iowa. however you guys kept a secret from pretty much everyone except your teammates and family. you were ready to tell the world you were in love with caitlin clark. but she wasn’t ready yet and you were okay with it.

as caitlin’s skill and popularity grew dating speculations started to come to the surface. but they weren’t about you. they were about her and one of the men’s basketball players. connor.

you knew caitlin would never ever try anything with him. but he was always so persistent. he was always seen with caitlin. like he planted the pictures of them. caitlin always reassured you that there was nothing going on with him despiste the pictures being put out by the media.

as time went on connor had graduated from iowa and the speculation came to a halt. however there were still some diehard fans of caitlin and connor. but you never let it get to you.

cut to present time, which was valentine’s day during the offseason after caitlin’s rookie year. you guys had planned to hangout at home that day. but caitlin’s had gone out quickly for some groceries since she was making dinner for you two.

while you were at your shared apartment a new photo came out of caitlin. but it wasn’t just caitlin. it was a picture of connor giving caitlin a rose. and boy did the fans eat that up. the speculation immediately started up again.

you thought the worst of it. was caitlin ashamed of you? no that couldn’t be right? you were just going to wait for her to get home. and once she got home you started asking questions.

“caitlin what is this?” you say showing her the photo that was captured. she sighed as she took your phone from your hands. “he just came up to me and bombarded me with rose and i didn’t know what to do.” she said in a rush. you just stared at the floor.

“look i’ll fix this.” she said as she pulled out her phone.

you stared at her in confusion. not knowing what she was doing, you were about to peak and look at her phone when you got a notification on yours drawing the attention away from caitlin’s. the notification read ‘caitlinclark22 tagged you in a story’.

“cait what did you do?” you asked as you opened up the notification and saw her story.

it was picture that you had taken the day before. you were kissing caitlin’s cheek while she had a cheesy grin on her face. she had captioned the photo with ‘thankful to spend another valentine’s day with my love’.

your eyes welled up with tears and you finally loin up from your phone to see caitlin smiling at you. “are you sure you’re okay with that?” you asked immediately. “it’s about time the world knows how lucky i am.” she said as she pulled you into a kiss.

you and caitlin had put your phones on dnd for the rest of the night not wanting to be interrupted.

but little did you two know the uproar that caitlin just caused. the whole internet was going insane at the hard launch that caitlin’s just did. there were so many people making edits and tagging you in all of them.

people started reposting old pictures and saying how obvious it was but no one noticed because of connor. the whole basketball community was going crazy.

but you two paid no mind to it.

just being happy in each other’s presence.

that was the best valentines gift you could ever ask for.

A/N: i hope i did this request justice!! send in more cc requests pls