#part 2 coming soon :')

[nayykura]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ – burning spice cookie x fem child reader

You don’t understand with your own father’s mind, he destroyed everything because of boredom?

Your father a promised saviour falling into corruption because of boredom?

BOREDOM?!

“Father please stop…” You hold your father’s arm tightly “you destroy everything because of boredom..?, you throw away all the good thing because of boredom..?” Tears came out of your eyes while staring at your father begging to stop doing all this mess.

“…”

You have tried various ways to get him to change but it doesn't work, no matter how hard you try it still doesn't work. You're tired of all this, you want your old father back, you miss him.

Until the witches realize it, they punish your father and his four friends by sealing them away.

After the incident passed, you chose to leave everything behind, leave your once called home and change your identity.

— part 2 coming soon !!

[sky-is-the-limit]

Gurl, I've got you.

If you are comfortable with it, I can imagine Gaz getting jealous, tying his partner to the bed (with their consent, obviously 😒) and fucking them like there's no tomorrow. (Sending this as an ask in case you wanna use it)

'Wicked Games'

P: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

CW: Dom/Brat Tamer!Gaz, jealousy, possessiveness, handcuffs, face-fucking as punishment, rough oral sex

WC: 3.505 words (oops)

You were in the midst of getting ready, your reflection adorned in a sleek, tight black dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. With each movement, the fabric whispered against your skin, accentuating your figure with an air of confidence.

His eyes followed the graceful arc of your hand as you brushed a hint of blush onto your cheeks, the subtle flush of color only enhancing your natural beauty.

Despite his efforts to appear nonchalant, the tension simmered just beneath the surface. His gaze widened slightly at the sight of your attire,lingering on you with a hint of admiration and pride.

''He's just a colleague, Kyle.'' It was the third time you had to echo that sentence in a row, each word carefully enunciated with an exhausted sigh in between as the night drag on.

''Who's desperately trying to sleep with you, Y/N.'' Kyle's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he leaned himself against the doorframe to get a better look at you. 

The veil of calm that blanked his form wasn't enough to disguise the tension around you that could be cut with a knife.

''Okay, now you're overreacting.'' A quick glance away from your reflection in the mirror was enough to catch him rolling his eyes to your remark as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup.

Your arrival to your corporate's event was bound to be late from the moment you were about to settle on the outfit.

The sound of the bathroom door creaked open, and your boyfriend that resembled a Greek God emerged, his hair damp and tousled from the shower. In nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist, droplets of water glistened on his bronzed skin, accentuating the defined lines of his muscular physique.

''Yeah, right- Wait, no bra?'' Kyle's voice was tinged with a hint of reproach, his brows furrowing as he fought to keep his jealousy in check.

''I can't wear one with this dress.'' With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you turned to face him.

"And you know what else?" You continued, your voice teasing as you pulled back to meet Kyle's gaze. "It's kinda cold tonight.''

''Fucking hell.'' Kyle let out a frustrated growl, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to contain his emotions.. That did not bode well for his self-control.

With a playful smirk, he pushed himself away from the door frame and took a step closer, the air thick with a sudden change of emotions.

''What do I have to do to get you to stay?'' The droll of his voice belied a casual tease, but his tone was dangerous.

''Tie me down, probably.''

The words hung in the air for a moment, accompanied by your light chuckle, as you anticipated Kyle's typical witty response. However, as the seconds ticked by, you noticed the atmosphere slowly changing.

The laughter faded from your lips instantly as you glimpsed the genuine consideration in Kyle's eyes, a flicker of something more primal stirring beneath the surface.

The suggestion lingered in the air like a provocative dare, igniting a spark of desire within him as he contemplated the possibilities.

''Are you seriously considering tying me down, Sergeant?'' The sudden shift from playful banter to something more charged, left you breathless, your pulse quickening with a rush of excitement.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Kyle reached out to gently brush a lock of hair from your face, his touch tender yet intense.

''What if I am?'' His tone was casual, but the way it vibrated in his chest sent a rush of heat down your spine.

''You'd have to catch me, first'' You exclaimed with a giggle and quickened your pace towards the living room, forgetting for a moment that with that man standing behind you, it was pointless.

Kyle, agile and determined, moved swiftly to intercept you. He closed the distance between you in a few quick strides. In a heartbeat, his strong hands firmly gripped on your hips, halting you in your tracks.

Before you could protest or react, Kyle pulled you even closer, his body pressing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he whispered huskily, "That was a bad move, sweetheart."

''Kyle, you're gonna ruin my outfit-'' A look of bland innocence spread across your face, trying hard to convince yourself above all that you wanted to walk out that door and out of his embrace. 

"Oh, sweetheart," He murmured, his breath warm against your skin, "You know I'm not just gonna ruin your outfit."

A shiver of excitement ran down your spine as his fingers trailed slowly along your sides, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hot and bright.

As Kyle's hands moved with intent, your breath caught in your throat, skin tingling with anticipation at the tantalizing promise of what was to come.

It was when Kyle's hands reached your breasts that you realized that he was not going to let you walk out that door intact, your eyes widening in shock at the suddenness of his touch.

''I'm gonna do much more than that.'' In terms of words that made your knees give in, he’s definitely said more explicit things, but apparently, that was all you needed that night. 

"Kyle," You murmured, your tone betraying the internal struggle, "I have to go."

''Mhm, do you now?'' Kyle buried his nose in your neck, feeling your pulse with his lips. His skin was so hot, his steaming breath stretching over your delicate skin.

You didn’t mean to whimper, but it slipped out and Kyle's hips bucked. Eager to cage you. Eager to pin you under him and devour you.

With a teasing lilt to your voice, you uttered the name that always seemed to set him on edge, "What will James think if I don't go?"

You knew all too well the effect those words would have, how they would stir the green-eyed monster within him, yet you couldn't resist the thrill of fueling his jealousy and pushing him over the edge.

/ / /

And that was how you ended up lying on the bed, your wrists bound by soft leather handcuffs secured to the headboard.

It had started innocently enough, a playful suggestion that quickly escalated into something far more intense. With each gentle tug of the restraints, you felt a surge of excitement building within you.

And as you laid there, completely at his mercy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

The soft whisper of fabric against skin, the faint creak of the bed beneath you, every sensation seemed magnified, heightened by the knowledge that you were completely under his control.

In that moment, with the world reduced to nothing but the two of you, you knew that you were exactly where you wanted to be, no alcohol, no annoying colleagues, no meaningless conversations. Just you, bare naked, bound to the bed and utterly captivated by the man kneeling with you between his thighs

"Satisfied now, Sergeant Garrick?" A devious smile played on your lips as you attempted to feign innocence, but your efforts were feeble at best.

Your boyfriend's keen observation didn't miss a beat. The slight twitch on his brow betrayed his reaction to you using his military rank. It was clear that your words had struck a chord within him, awakening something hidden beneath the surface that was begging to come forward.

As his gaze met yours, you noticed them darkening to the shade closest to the nightsky. There was a spark of arousal mixed with something almost unexplainable, something almost frightening. Intoxicating.

"Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?" Your tone dripped with sass as you pushed the boundaries, testing his patience.

Short distorted laughs came from him, almost mocking your pathetic attempt to provoke him. He raised one hand, the warmth of his touch grazing against your cheek before trailing down to the back of your head, where his fingers began to weave through your hair with a gentle grip.

Despite the tender gesture, you couldn't ignore the underlying tension that radiated from him, it was clear that what was to follow was going to be far from sweet.

Abruptly, his fingers clenched tightly in your hair, a searing pain radiating through your scalp, eliciting a groan to escape your lips.

"Yeah? Is that how you wanna play, love?" His voice was low and husky as he leaned down, bringing his mouth close to your ear.

Kyle's lips brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, while his other hand, calloused and strong, gently cupped the flesh of your ass before giving it a firm squeeze.

You felt his touch trailing down, skimming over the nakedness of your upper body until they reached the edge of your panties. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers danced along the elastic, teasingly tugging them down. The sensation was electrifying, anticipation coursing through your body.

His warm breath tickled your neck as he exhaled, "You're practically dripping, and I've barely even touched you." He remarked with a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in your ear and sending a thrill through your body.

"Shut up-" You quipped, knowing full well the bratty tone of your words.

As if to amplify your wicked plan, you aimed a playful kick at his thigh, intending to push him away though you knew that it was part of his job to take down men twice his size with ease.

Kyle reared back, and in an instant, his lips crashed onto yours with an intensity that bordered on punishing.

Initially, you resisted, a split-second defiance before surrendering to the fervor of his kiss. As you yielded, his kiss softened, his lips tenderly caressing yours, his tongue teasing the corner of your mouth with slow strokes.

As he began pressing his knee against your throbbing core, your back arched instinctively, seeking further contact and stimulation.

In response to your reaction, he let out a deep, guttural moan of his own into your mouth, his desire echoing yours as he intensified the pressure of his kiss. With one hand still cupping the back of your neck possessively, he leaned over you, his weight asserting dominance in the space between you.

His honeyed eyes fixated on your breasts, staring with a hunger that made your skin tingle. His plush lips were slightly parted as he placed his palms on your stomach, earning a desperate whisper from you.

''Kyle-'' Unintentionally, a soft mewl escaped your lips, a sound of desire that surprised even you. You couldn't help but crave his hands on your breasts, yearning for the sensation of his fingers squeezing, massaging, mirroring the fervent desire on his face.

And then, he withdrew, his lips parting from yours, leaving behind a warmth as he leaned back to take another look at your exposed skin.

''You wanna act like a brat?'' Kyle seethed as if he was welcoming a challenge, a sly smirk playing on his lips, his eyes gleaming with determination.

With deliberate intent, he wrapped his fingers around the base of your neck, his grip tightening gradually, compelling you to meet his eyes. ''Fine, I'll treat you like one.''

His hand disappeared from your sight, gliding down his torso until it reached the towel that hung low around his waist, teasingly revealing the contours of his body.

In one swift motion, he discarded the towel, allowing it to fall to the floor with a soft rustle, revealing his form in all its glory. You couldn't help but stare, mesmerized. It slapped against his stomach with a satisfying thud, beautiful and big, just like him.

Slowly, he caressed himself before you, his cock poised directly in front of your face, temptingly close.

"Spit." Kyle commanded, his hand extended in front of your face, positioned just beneath your waiting mouth.

Without hesitation, you complied with his request, gathering saliva in your mouth before lolling out your tongue, allowing it to messily fall into his hand.

"That's my obedient girl." He praised, whilst using the same hand that collected your saliva to stroke himself once again. With each firm stroke, his member glistened, now coated in the slickness that you provided.

''Open your mouth, sweetheart. Unless you'd like for me to force it open?'' He questioned as as he began to leisurely drag the tip of his throbbing cock along your wet lips before gently prodding them.

You savored the bittersweet tang of the precum that glistened on the head, the taste a delicious blend of saltiness and sweetness that made you want more. And so you complied without hesitation, parting your lips and extending your tongue, its wet, pink surface waiting for his touch.

''Suck.''

His voice took on a rough, commanding tone, without any hint of playfulness as his hips bucked towards your lips, seeking the warmth of your mouth.

Without hesitation, your mouth opened eagerly, welcoming his head as it entered, filling your senses with the taste and texture of him.

You hollowed your cheeks, creating suction as you enveloped him, relishing in the sensation of his hardness against your tongue. Taking your time, you swirled your tongue around the tip, exploring every ridge and contour, teasing him with the flickering motion.

You weren't going to give it to him easily. Or so you believed in that moment. Perhaps deep down, there lurked a streak of masochism within you.

And so, without warning, you executed a bold move, deftly slipping his length off your lips with a resounding pop, punctuating the act with a falsely innocent look.

"Oops." You smirked, meeting his half-shocked, half-annoyed expression with unwavering confidence despite your restricted position.

''Bold move, love.'' What he did next caught you off guard.

With a swift motion, he retrieved his hand from the back of your head and placed it under your jaw, the once gentle touch now transformed into a merciless grip as his fingers closed around your cheeks, applying pressure until you winced from the pain and forced your mouth to open.

Kyle wasted no time in reclaiming the wetness of your mouth, thrusting his length back inside with an assertiveness that seemed almost brutal. Not to you, though. That was how you liked it and he knew. Gentle and sweet as a partner, rough and dominant as a lover.

You hummed around him, the vibration serving as an affirmative response, granting him permission to take control. His other hand rose to join the first, folding over your head, firmly holding you in place as he lifted his hips and thrusted forward.

He closed his eyes, the long lashes brushing against his flushed cheeks as he breathed out a low, gravelly moan.

"Oh, fuck, yes- that's it. You're- you're taking me so fucking well." In contrast to his words growing increasingly visceral and obscene, Kyle looked strikingly beautiful and almost mad with his open jaw hung slightly agape as he struggled to catch his breath, each inhalation ragged and uneven.

Sensing his movement, you relaxed your jaw, allowing your tongue to flatten and just before he pushed deeper, you managed to draw in one last breath, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Then, his head bumped against the back of your throat, causing your eyes to sting with tears pooling at the corners as you coughed wetly around him. Foam and saliva spurted from the tight seal of your lips, a result of the sudden intrusion.

His relentless pace caused your throat to bulge, stretching to accommodate his girth, while your face contorted with the strain of his forceful thrusts.

The squelching of his cock drilling in and out of your mouth got louder and louder as your saliva wet his length, only making him fuck your mouth like it was nothing but a hole, with more intent as it got easier for him.

His fingers held onto both sides of your skull tightly, burying your nose into his pubic hair with every pulsation. Your jaw grew slack, your jowl hanging low as his girth forced your mouth open for his use. 

''Now what would that asshole think, hm?'' His breathing was erratic, his words garbled and he dislodged himself from you entirely this time.

His hand gripped around the base of his cock, coated heavily with pre-cum and your saliva. The force-grip on your face relaxed and you pulled your lips back together in relief.

And then he stuffed back himself into you, taking in the feeling of your reflexive bobs on his cock, of you gagging and salivating around his member. He drug your head off after a short time, then back in, finding his rhythm.

The fingers in your hair roughly pulled you against him as he held you firmly back in place, leaving you no choice but to breathe through your nose and try to relax your muscles further. ''Seeing you tied up like that, choking on my cock, fuck-''

It only took a few more hard, erratic thrusts before he reached the breaking point, his body tensing above you as he neared climax.

With each hard movement, his cock plunged deeper into your throat, driving past the point of resistance until it reached the depths of your being. In a surge of desperate release, he unleashed his hot thick cum so deep inside you, you didn't even get taste it.

Though your jaw felt like it was burning in flames, you immediately welcomed the relief as you could finally draw in a deep, satisfying breath. With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the headboard, allowing the coolness of the surface to soothe your overheated skin.

''You did so well baby, so fucking good for me.'' He cooed, the sweetness returning to his tone before he swiftly slid his knees from your upper body down to your waist, his movements unhurried as he took in the way you looked in that moment. A beautiful mess.

Whilst he positioned himself, he leaned forward, his forehead gently meeting yours for a brief moment and then closed the gap completely, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

''Now..'' Kyle whispered against your parted lips, a soft breath of warmth that set your skin on fire.

As his tongue delicately brushed against your bottom lip, his hands trailed upwards to caress your restrained arms as though he was taking away the ache just by touching them.

''Be a good girl and..'' As his lips made their way towards the upper half of your face, his voice was sinful against the delicate curve of your ear shell. With each caress, the tension in your muscles began to ease.

Finally, his hands came to rest against each of your wrists, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the cool metal of the handcuffs.

With a gentle yet purposeful movement, his fingers traced the outline of the restraints, teasing you by applying pressure for a second before stopping and repeating the same movement.

You watched in anticipation, biting hard on your bottom lip not to wince out loud as the tension in the air became heavy once more and then you finally heard the faint click of the restraints releasing.

The pain in your wrists began to fade away, relief washing over you as Kyle deftly removed the handcuffs. With each click of the lock releasing, a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders. You eagerly anticipated the opportunity to finally touch him, to feel his warmth against your skin and bring him close to you.

But before you could even extend your hands, Kyle's touch found its way to your waist and with a suddenness that pushed all air out your lungs, he maneuvered you around, positioning you so that your face was now directed towards the headboard. The abrupt shift in position left you disoriented, your gaze now fixated on the wooden surface before you.

''Kyle, what are you-''

Without warning, he once again secured the handcuffs around your wrists, immobilizing you completely. The metallic clink echoed in the room and his striking face disappeared from your sight, replaced by the blank expanse of the wall.

Though you couldn't see him, the subtle shifts in the mattress beneath you betrayed his movements as he lowered himself onto the bed. He positioned himself underneath you, his shoulders pressed firmly between your thighs, urging them to open wider.

Finally, you looked down, his face came into view, illuminated by the soft glow of the dimly lit room.

''Sit on my fucking face.''

(to be continued..:)

[eggroll-sama]

My Opinions if They Existed IRL

Rant of me manifesting the characters in my life and logically seeing and how I would feel of them. Ranting, Leander hate, shenanigans

Leander

Hate Hate HATE-

I've had terrible experiences with Leander's. I'm sorry to all the Leander fans out there, but I can't stand people like him. I relate with Vere on this one. The artificiality is aggravating.

Will make you feel understood and special, but it's just his charm. He gets off on it tbh.

The type to laugh at jokes he doesn't think is funny to feed the person's ego. His laugh is obnoxious (rich person's laugh + loud cuz he thinks louder = more genuine? No lol), too, so everyone turns to him wondering what's making him laugh sm. He's just being fake

Ah, DOES NOT know personal space. Is super touchy even with strangers and pushes their boundaries.

(More under the cut)

People pleaser, people pleaser. The type to not stand up for you when someone talks smack about you behind your back. Instead would give a polite laugh, maybe add his own opinions on you to make the shit-talker feel understood, then would steer the conversation to smthg else. Take that as you will.

Leaves you in the dark on certain things that will make him look bad. More than likely you find out through other ppl which makes you feel betrayed.

Smiles, even when he's pissed off. When you see his mask falter it's like whiplash, makes you wonder if he's ever real w you cuz he doesn't talk about his neg opinions. Only shares altruistic opinions to make himself look better.

Would not communicate when he has problem with you. Instead, he'll give you a look, no smiles, no facade, just hostility. It's annoying when you're the type to talk things out.

Competitive as hell, with friends, too. If he isn't in the center of attention than he'll get very insecure, and would go into pick-me mode so he can get compliments from others

"I'm not as good as ___, haha."

"No way, Leander, you're amazing, be more confident!"

And he will do this RIGHT in front of you, too (Day in the life of Ais dealing with Leander's jealousy)

Likes to play mediator to seem like the bigger person, but still ends up choosing sides. Your actions aren't matching your words fool.

Would also play mediator so he can get more information from both sides. More knowledge = more power = more control

On a positive note, Leander’s are very good at reading your emotions so would be more attentive to your needs. Also open-minded and would be a good companion if you want to have fun. Unfortunately the type to say yes yes to hanging out even when he’s on a tight schedule and get irritated when it wasn’t as exciting, like JUST SAY NO BITCH GAH DAMN. Prioritize urself.

When you start to distance yourself after he treats you like crap, that’s when he starts to correct himself, but it’s too late atp. Would get rlly salty when he sees you hanging out with other ppl feels like he’s being replaced

Would act friendly with you even after you're no longer close but it’s a facade :DD When he's alone he's brooding.

Kuras

Politely distant.

Kuras is the coworker that's been there longer than you have so you admire him from afar, hoping you'd be at his level one day.

Remembers your name even if you talk to him like ONCE, makes you feel special and seen in a non manipulative way.

Would remember certain things abt you that you surprised he remembers like at all.

Has the sexiest ASMR voice. It's the professional type of voice that’s very well-practiced and you just watch him on the phone not fumbling over there words like :0 They make it look so easy

Being friends with him wouldn’t be one-sided. He would plan a catch-up with you grabbing coffee. Would pay for the bill without asking.

He is a dominant person, but is often perceived as submissive bc his courtesy and gentlemanly behavior. No, no, he’s always in control. He just knows that that being kind in the face of conflict makes you the one more in control of the situation. There’s dominance in self-submission

An amazing listener. Has the ability to give advice to you without making you feel defensive on your stance.

Believes in integrity, but wouldn’t condone being “brutally honest.” Don’t weaponize your excuse of “honesty” to be a jerk towards others. Kinda hypocritical bc sometimes he sucks at being tactical with words, but he tries to understand, which is the difference from ppl that feel entitled to state their opinion in a “fighting for dominance” type of way

Stubborn lol. Stubborn in a “my way or the high way” kind of way. Needs to be convinced with logic or wouldn’t budge that his way of doing things is better. Can get tiring convincing them.

Also is very detail-oriented that every little thing needs to be analyzed before he proceeds. If you’re the type to “wing it” like me, it’ll test your patience but also their attention to detail helps out later on. He’ll hit you with the “I told you so” look

Too hard on himself. Would feel bad for being impolite over smthg minor. PLS REINFORCE HIS AWESOMENESS YOURE DOING GREAT OK.

Would remember something he’s done in the past and hate himself, it’s the catholic guilt. He knows there’s no point in remembering but he can’t help but think of how he could’ve handled something better. Overthinker.

Acts like an old man. Likes little peaceful towns with a good suburban vibes. Loves discovering little stores and Knick knacks. Also gives u gifts out of nowhere for keeping him company.

Mhin

I also know a few Mhins but I like them better than Leander’s lmao. Their quietness piques my interest and I find myself wanting to get to know them more, even if it’s one-sided and low-key an interview. They tend to be very interesting people.

If you gain their favor, than they're so caring towards you. Would seek your attention once in a blue moon like a cat. Sometimes it feels like you’re always chasing them, be it through gift-giving, reaching out, etc. Will get repetitive at times.

Their independence is admirable and partially the reason why you seek their presence so often. You don’t want them to feel lonely.

They’re passive aggressive, it’s low-key cute, but also annoying. Just say what you want to say!

They have self-conscious tendencies, be it their looks or their talents. Instead of being an annoying pick-me like Leander, they start to get more frustrated and depressed, unfortunately. Wouldn’t bring it up unless you do.

They’re also popular romantically but they NEVER realize. Tends to get teased often by people crushing on them.

Is so honest. Mhin would tell you straight what they think about you, which sucks if you have a soft-heart.

So honest, borderline an asshole. Ex. You’re losing some hair? They'd point it out. No hesitation. Very embarrassing if you're with your friends. They suck at thinking before they speak.

The type to trauma dump on you. But if they do, you’re lucky bc it means they trust you.

They are naturally attracted to kind, peaceful introverts. Mhin isn't a sociable person, so it would be a whole lot easier for them if you are also not sociable. Craves kindness and peace.

You can appreciate their quietness. They don’t talk, so their words hold more weight. Great at handling kids cuz they are scared of them.

The type to complain about smthg you did but helps you. ACTS OF SERVICE !!

Their laugh is so rare that it makes you surprised and gaping. But you love it whenever it happens.

DONT FORGET TO CALLLLLLL

[k0nanharv3y]

Am I giving Tim too much power and making him almost untouchable with many plot holes, and in fact, nothing you read will make sense? Yes, I am doing that, is there a problem?

Robin Hood AU

Tim Drake Saved Gotham from Batman. Yeah, but lets say that he didn't do it becoming Robin

He Saved Gotham by becoming the focus of attention and method of anger release for Batman

///

And then there was a new rogue in Gotham. Batman didn't know who they were, what did they wanted, and why they seemed to be targeting only him. Inside and outside the mask, as Bruce Wayne and as the Dark Knight

He didn't have time for this, when he had them, when he found out who they were, he would destroy them, if necessary he would burn the world down, because his world burned with his son in that warehouse. Whoever the guy behind the attacks was, he would know the full wrath of the Dark Knight

But Tim was already hiding well from Batman right under his nose, Tim grew up following, watching and absorbing everything from the adults around him. But most of all he learned not to make mistakes. Tim would use the mistakes of the Joker, of Riddle, of each and every one of Gotham's rogues and learn not to leave clues, not to get caught, to hide right next to Batman, because it's a popular lie, Batman doesn't have eyes in the back of his head. The extra eyes he had died in Ethiopia

Tim had resources, time and only 12 years old, he was still moldable, he could fill any mold to perfection, so he forced himself to fit the mold of the rogue that Gotham would love. Because Tim wouldn't go for the city, he loved Gotham too much to destroy it trying to save a man who seemed to be digging his own grave, one in which he was dragging the city with him. Tim strategically targeted Bruce Wayne and Batman so that the man would get a slap in the face for his behavior. And if a building exploded, Tim would make sure that the people who worked or lived there would have good insurance and new jobs and compensation from Wayne Enterprises.

And Batman turned against the rogue who forced him to bury his own pain with his son and went to fight this guy who seemed to be virtually and physically everywhere. Batman knew the guy knew his identity, because the attacks were personal, lethal in any case, he was playing with him, mocking him. Until he seemed to stop

One day a letter on his door telling Batman how sorry he was and that "I had done what had to be done" and "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Wayne, but you were destroying the city with you" was all he got before the depressing silence of a quiet city -No, not a city, of Quiet Gotham-

The world kept turning and both lives continued

One next to the other

///

Steph became Robin long before because Batman was trying to open his heart to another child, Cassandra arrived just as she was supposed to, Steph never died because Batman was there and Dick made peace with the brother he could never love and loved his sisters and when Jason came back to life there was no vengeance in his blood because Batman never replaced him 10 minutes after Jason died. Yes, he was angry at the Joker and Batman's inability to kill him, but someone else did and Jason will embrace whoever did it. And when Damian got home everything was fine and he didn't steal the mantle from anyone because Steph was eager to give it to someone else and get Batman off her ass.

And Tim's life was lonely. His parents never stopped being absent, and the plane crash still happened because that wasn't because he was Robin, but because he was simply a living being. (Yes, I'm changing things up here) Janet was left in a coma and Jack died and in the end he was just a kid in a mansion that was too big, but so afraid of depending on someone (the last time he saw someone depending on someone else he had to blow up several buildings and cyberbully them to calm them down) who took the reins of Drake Industries and invented an uncle just to not be put in the system and still be off the bats' radar

And then Batman died

///

Hey you!, Yeah you!, Imagine that in the middle of the Bats' life, every time someone (a rogue) attacked Gotham, Tim would appear out of nowhere and digitally betray them to the Bats, and if Oracle isn't mentioned here, it's because you and I know that she would dismantle Tim from day one, so shut up, she's busy with her Birds of Prey or something, I DON'T KNOW, I'VE BEEN AWAKE FOR 26 HOURS

Part 2 of this bullshit

Part 3 cuz somehow I manage to make another one of these

Part 4

Part 5??????? Why????

[milksuu]

Hey hey heyyyy!!! It's me, the one that keeps stalking your page! 💙🧚‍♀️

I wanna say that OML I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! AAAAHHH! And I'm so so so happy to see that

anyways, this is a request for how the heartsteel boys would react to a lover with big bazoinkers who usually wears baggy clothes suddenly wearing something tight fitted??? Heheehehehe.

Also, how would the react if you were hit on by someone else due to their lover having big personalities?? (You don't have to do this one if you're uncomfortable ofc!!)

Also, keep up what you're doing, feeding my unhealthy obsession with these fictional (but very attractive) men. I hope you have an amazing day/night!!!🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

❥ prompt: So, you got the big boinkers. The huge bagonzos. The gigantic bonobos. Whatever guys called boobs these days. You're super self-conscious about them, ever since you hit puberty. You've tried to hide them. But with the upcoming red-carpet event for the music awards, you can't wear baggy clothes next to your Heartsteel boyfirend. You had to look your best. Or as some would say, your breast. ❥ content/warnings: mild suggestive themes, possessive boyfriend energy, over protective boyfriend energy ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel (aphelios, ezreal, kayne) / f!reader

APHELIOS

Aphelio's thought you always looked cute and comfortable in your hoodies. In casual form, it was his aesthetic as well. Until the time came for a special event.

Aphelio's hadn't imagined exactly what you would wear. But surely, it might be a long-sleeve and turtleneck to match your conservative style. He understood how you felt about your particular assets. He would never suggest you to wear anything that didn't make you feel secure.

He was absolutely wrong. So, so, so wrong. (Wait. Did he actually like being wrong?) He got the long-sleeves part right. But the black mini-dress you sported hugged all the curves you possessed. With just a bit of thigh fat squeezed at the hem. If Aphelio's could ever speak again, he'd beg to be immediately silenced between those thighs. And at the top, there was a glorious boob-window that any e-girl would go absolutely rabid to have.

He had to look away a few times. Thankful to have a mask covering most of his flustered features. Maintaining a semblance of composure, he led you by the hand, speaking to you through squeezes between your hands.

Down the red-carpet, with flashing lights, the two of you posed. One camera man took a picture a little too angled for his liking. Your hand trembled in his. Blushing and holding your breath. Embarrassed tears pricked the corner of your eyes. Afraid of the possible lewdness that would be plastered in magazines. You didn't want to even imagine the headliners. And what would they say about Aphelio's? That he was dating some sort of 'all-boobs-no brains' bimbo? You wanted nothing like that for him.

Aphelio's sensed all of your emotions and didn't hesitate his next move. He dragged a discreet foot against the carpet, folding it in a manner that caused the paparazzo to trip. When the shady-cameraman fell, his camera smashed to pieces against the ground. The man dramatically fell to his knees, holding his head and weeping in buckets.

You gasped. Aphelio's merely rolled his eyes dismissively, tugging you way. He knitted his brows, and squeezed your hand tightly. You knew exactly what he did. You smiled, condensing your chest against his arm.

Feeling his face heat up again, he looked away. After acting so cool, and looking so cool, there's no way he'd let you see him blush like a high-school boy.

EZREAL

Ezreal never minded you wearing baggy clothes. He thought it was fun—for him! He loved diving underneath your oversized hoodie, and poke his head out the other side. Like you two were some odd circus attraction. That, or pretend he was a sailor drowning in a sea of boobies. He liked wearing the stylish hat.

He wasn't exactly sure what you would wear to the event, but he wished it was something he could fit inside later. He was joking. That was a total joke. So long as you were comfortable in it, he didn't mind.

When he saw you step out of the limo, his jaw completely dropped. He felt like one of those cool male-lead movie stars. Taking off his glasses in iconic slow-mo fashion, mouthing the words "Oh, Baby."

He spared zero time to lead you by the arm. Ready for from some press worthy photos he knew you two were going to absolutely rock.

Making it to the concessions room, where the liquor and horderves were plenty, it was prime time for music stars to socialize.

One young rapper approached, way too drunk off his drink, slurred with a smirk at your general direction. Commenting on whether or not Ezreal paid for you to have boob job in order to please him.

The giddy-boyish-sunshine smile turned utterly dark. The laugh he forced was ear grating. It chilled you to the bone. There was a flash of yellow. And briefly, you felt your arm empty of his presence. Then the scene unfolded. The man's drink completely spilled all over him. Another flash. He was pushed, stumbling to the ground.

Ezreal merely snickered into his suit sleeve when bouncers in the room dragged the drunk man away by the collar. Deeming him too drunk and unfit for the show, and subsequently tossed out.

Ezreal tugged you off to a far, secluded corner. He took you into his arms, squeezing tightly. Apologizing into your ear. You smiled softly, and rubbed his the back. Reassuring him you weren't hurt by the comment. And gave him a grateful kiss into his hair for sticking up for you.

KAYN

Kayn 'Big ol' Tiddle Bitties'. If he could change his middle name to that, he would. It'd be his other rap persona, in ode to your breasts. Rhaast approved. And sure, you may be insecure about them, but Kayn fucking hell wasn't. He swore, one day, he would scream in praise at the rooftops. (Thankfully that hasn't happened...yet.)

He prayed to every demon, anti-christ, Eldritch God on this forsaken plane of existence for you to bless his presence with those huge knockers. And holy shit, did you ever at the event.

From the outfit alone, if he leashed himself for you, and placed a crop in your hand, he'd be on all fours. This wouldn't be a classy event anymore. It'd be an all-out fetish party.

Sadly. Reality kept it to a red-carpeted event. Where he had to act professional. Lead you accordingly, and restrain himself on every level possible. It took all his effort to not just call an Uber and take you in nearest love-hotel.

After mingling before the show, it was time for the awards. You took your seat next to each other. As the event played on, with various performances, you felt something being thrown into your cleavage. You looked down, spotting popcorn. Turning a cheek, you saw a group of young men laughing. Making comments about your breasts, and high-fiving one another when they 'made the shot'.

Kayn noticed. And boy, was he about to lose his shit during a performance speech. You placed a hand against his chest, whispering for him not to make a scene, and not allow the clowns to hurt his reputation. Fine—he wouldn't commit a crime. But he would show them who they were fucking with.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, muffling any lewd noises. Kayn planted his face in your cleavage, biting and licking your chest. He took up all the popcorn, and spat it out the guys like buttered bullets. They jumped with looks of disgust, cursing under their breaths about how damn crazy he was. With a final growl, they scurried away.

Kayn cackled, and you had to shush him when Yone leaned back in his chair and gave a look.

an: holy shiii tysvm for this req. @ccraccz! you're a genius. pls keep stalking my page *smooches you* sadly i have to break this up into two parts, since I wasn't expecting to make it so long??? lmfao??? pls stay tuned for part 2

[eternalwritess]

I may know someone - Platonic!Alastor & tech demon!reader + Vox x tech demon!reader

Summary: Vox is holding a grudge against the hotel and refuses to air the commercial that they created. But Alastor has someone in mind who might just be able to help...

"I always knew Vox was petty," Alastor hummed picking at his nails. He wasn't pleased to say the least. Not about the commercial of course, if it was possible for him to care less about it then he would. But rather with Vaggie at his door demanding that he do something about it, along with Charlie's pleading eyes trying to calm Vaggie so she could try and convince Alastor.

Quite honestly he didn't know what they thought he could do. He was injured for crying out loud. His wound from Adam still hurt like a truck and not to mention that he and Vaggie made a deal so he wouldn't have to deal with the picture box anymore.

"Please Al, I won't ask anything else of you!" Charlie begged bouncing on the tips of her feet whilst still attempting to hold Vaggie back, although with their wings it was getting harder as she would flap them out constantly.

"You shouldn't lie dear, isn't that an unholy quality?" He asked with some hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Alastor just try and fix it alright, we built this whole hotel and-" Alastor cut Vaggie off with an influx of static.

"Didn't we make a deal about this my dear?"

Vaggie paused for a moment before sighing and walking away leaving Charlie.

"Please, Alastor," She paused for a moment looking at him. "We really need this right now alright? Besides just think about it, more sinners means more entertainment for you if thats what you want," She said slowly walking over into him room before stopping once he glanced at her.

"Besides just think of all the fun you would have watching me uh," She paused thinking for a moment. "Struggle to rehabilitate sinners!" She added throwing up her arms in the air as a punctuation to her sentence.

Alastor sighed and met her eyes. "I really can't do anything dear, I only control the radio and besides, I doubt that rabble box will even listen to me. I don't know how to work this," he made a wild gesture with his hand. "Frivolous new technology works,"

His smile grew tight with disgust. "Its not worth the trouble anyways," he huffed and looked over to the side.

Charlie sighed and glanced away. "Fine, thats reasonable I guess," She groaned and smoothed down her wrinkled hair and began walking out the door.

"I wonder if dad would help me with this," she muttered as she walked along. Now that was something Alastor just couldn't have. He grit his teeth and tapped his staff onto the ground disappearing into shadow and reappearing in front of Charlie.

"Now now dear I didn't say I wouldn't help you-"

"You basically did though-"

Alastor put his finger in front of her mouth shushing her. "It is rude to interrupt don't you know?" He took his hand back and set it on his staff.

"I do know someone who might be able to help in our little endeavor. Rosie adores her quite so and I think that she might just be interested in this. Besides she is an old friend of mine," He explained bending down and smiling even wider.

It's been a while since he's seen you. He'd like to visit you after all and this would stick it to Lucifer and Vox. He's winning on all three sides of the coin.

"Well then! Can I meet her?"

"Patience Charlotte, come, come now. The place where she lives is quite dangerous indeed. It would be a shame for you to be harmed there,"

He hummed and walked her out the hotel. "You'll need to stay by me at all times. Do you understand?"

She nodded and Alastor nodded with her. "Good girl,"

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

You spun around in your chair. This was the fifth time today. If anyone else came into your office proclaiming they they needed your help you were gonna flip.

You weren't an overlord. But damn did you manage this side of the pentagram. A space so fucked that not even the strongest overlord would set their sights here. Too much work for not enough profit you would say. Honestly? You would agree if you weren't somewhat attached to this rancid place.

Knock knock.

You gripped your desk and groaned mentally, bracing yourself for whoever was at the door next.

"I swear to god Susan call me again for your fucking cat and I will shove it's claws up your-" You opened the door with a shout and stopped upon seeing a familiar red color scheme.

"Alastor- holy shit!" You laughed and stepped back. "Sorry for the shouting, its been a..." You trailed off and sighed shaking your head. "Rather stressful day," You snapped your fingers electricity from them instantly snapping on the lights to emit a warm glow from them.

Behind him was someone with blonde hair and red eyes and a red suit. God was there a lot of red going on here. "Who's this?" you asked gesturing over to her. "Looks nice, didn't know she was your type," You laughed before shaking your head not allowing Alastor to react.

"I'm kidding, I know you've got an ace up there," you laughed tugging at his sleeve before letting it go.

Alastor paused for a moment. "What?"

You moved on giggling. "Come on introduce her, Rosie would have your head for behavior like this," you laughed and grabbed the girl's hand.

"This is Charlotte Morningstar! Princess of hell and owner of the delusional establishment known as the Hazbin Hotel!" He said patting 'Charlotte's' head.

"You can call me Charlie," She quickly corrected. You nodded and bent down bowing down to her and raising her hand slightly above your head.

"Pleasure to meet you your highness, what can I do for you today. After all I doubt you come here on pleasantries," you gestured outside to where a few demons were about to have either an orgy or a torture scene. You pulled them in further shutting the door and closing the windows.

"Well you see I've been having a bit of trouble lately. Well see this man, Vox, refuses to air the commercial I made for my hotel. So I was wondering if you could possibly do something about it," She offered. She smiled warmly and you looked over to Alastor.

"Vox isn't really..." You sighed and rubbed your forehead. "Do you want me to talk with him? Cause I don't know him besides that fact that his tech is nothing more than flashy shit," you explained.

"No, no, no, no, well I mean... I just want my commercial aired, I can pay you if you'd like," She offered.

You paused and shook your head glancing over to Alastor. "What do you think that I can do?" you asked tilting your head over to him. Of course he would bring her to you, what else were you expecting.

"Well you can infiltrate Vox and his filthy lair! Get the commercial up and running!" He said with a swing of his arm.

You groaned and sat down in your chair. "Really? And how do you suppose I'm even gonna get close enough to do such a thing?"

"Why my dear you'll only have to do a flick of a wrist, I doubt that Vox knows he's not the only one with powers like yours," he said and gestured over to you grandly, as if introducing you all over again.

With a sigh you looked over to Charlie. Money didn't really mean shit here, besides you knew better than to say no to Alastor. Friends be damned, if he wanted something you had to give it to him unless you had a good reason which, you really didn't. Other than you just didn't want to of course.

"Alright then, I don't need to get paid though, just puts a target on my back-"

"Alrighty then!" Alastor was cut off by you.

"But, you're getting me over there. Got it smiles?" You asked looking over to him. His grin grew tight and you felt your grow at that.

"Of course, it would be unkindly of me if not,"

Charlie squealed and grabbed your hand pulling you up and giving you a hug. "Thank you! Thank you ! Thank you! Thank you so much! I will not forget this, I swear!" She was bouncing up and down as you laughed and slowly pushed her away.

"Alright, don't get too happy about it. I still don't know if I can do it,"

"Don't worry, if any demon in this wretched realm can do it its you," Alastor said giving you a half pat on the head before you swiped his hand away.

"Alright then, so when do you want me to do this?" You asked.

"Oh take your time-"

"Now would be preferred. Here I'll even lead you," Alastor said grabbing you and pulling you in by the hook of your arm. You stumbled over and glared at him playfully a grin forming across your lips as you gaining your footing.

"What about the princess?" You pointed over to Charlie who was bouncing on her feet excitedly.

"Oh we can stop by the hotel on our way over, don't worry y/n,"

You laughed and looked over to Charlie. "Oh my god, I didn't tell you my name!" You laughed and stuck your hand out once more. "Y/n,"

She shook your hand and smiled. "Don't worry about it, besides I'm sure Al would've told me it,"

You nodded and turned over to Alastor. "Alright then, lead the way,"

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

To call the hotel a giant eyesore might be an understatement. It was clear that Alastor didn't design the thing whether that be for good or for worse. It's lights basically dissected your eyes into thousands of tiny little pieces.

God was it bright.

"So the V's are what they're called then?" You asked brushing off tiny specks of dust on your shoulder. You just had a conversation with someone named Angel and god did it feel wrong.

"Yes! They're quite incompetent though, nothing you need to worry about," He said patting your head once more. You groaned mentally at the gesture and watched as he spun his microphone around.

"Really? Aren't they overlords?" You questioned further adn watched how Alastor's grin grew tight at the mention.

"Yes but they're awfully pathetic and act like children. Throwing temper tantrums here and there," he paused for a moment before shutting his eyes and flitting them to you. "Actually you'd be more of a competent overlord than them-"

You held up a hand. "No, no, we've been over this. I'm not an overlord. I don't have nearly enough power-"

"I could help with that," He smiled and you watched the green and red glow light up from behind him.

"Uh huh, so you could put me on a leash? Yeah, no thanks," You rolled your eyes at the offer and watched as he laughed it off with you.

"No no, just as a friendly gesture. Of course a favor wouldn't be too bad I suppose,"

You laughed once more. "A favor? from me? I'm sorry but being gone for seven damn years must've screwed with your head. I can't do anything,"

You both stopped in front of a large building. At least in the alleyway of a shop in front of it. You noticed how Alastor avoided the cameras, he must've done this thousands of times.

"Aren't you doing this?" Alastor gestures over to the building.

Three V's hung at the very top of a very colorful building and- you take it back this is worse than the hotel. You winced at the colors and looked over to Alastor. "I might change my mind,"

You watched as he laughed for a short amount of time before returning to you. "Well then we better hurry up I suppose my dear," He snapped his fingers and you watched the cameras glitch for a second. "We'll only have a moment now," He said and he walked out with you and into a backroom of the building and- god the inside might just be worse.

Thousands of LEDs strung up around the hall with tons of flashing lights. Stuff to draw one's attention. You just wanted to get out. You followed Alastor around before he stopped. "You know the way from here?" He asked.

You paused and looked at him. "Please tell me you didn't-"

"I haven't been here before. I've never had a reason to before now," He said and tapped his staff onto the ground leaning on it for support. His ears bent slightly back in frustration.

You glanced at the cameras and sighed for a moment before looking back at him. "A minute please," you hummed and flicked a small bit of electricity over before tapping a device on your wrist generating a hologram. You watched as it flickered between the different places before stopping on one.

"Got it, we need to be in the room though and uh," You pointed to the hologram showing someone in the room. Alastor squinted and sighed.

"He was always obsessed," he groaned and looked over to you. "Get over there I'll lead him out and- don't get caught. Got it?" His gaze hardly even looked at you but you nodded anyways.

"Sir yes sir," You laughed and ran over towards where it would be. Having access to the cameras made it easier now you'd have to admit. You watched as people passed by and when you rarely messed up you knew where to go next. Then you reached the room. A room full of tv's and god- this was creepier in person.

You walked over looking down at the ledge of which the room seemed to drop forever. Yikes, you wouldn't wanna fall down there. You looked at the cameras seeing the guy from before shout at Alastor who was breaking a ton of stuff with a look on his face that said he was having way too much fun with this.

You looked over at the tv's and smiled flicking of bit of the electricity into the tv's and watching as it squirmed through. That should do it. You watched as it slowly ran through the computers and it flicked through everything. The channels, commercials, and god you're not looking at that one, until you found it. The commercial. With a grin you clicked approve and watched as it slowly became permanent with the humming from the computers agreeing with your own.

"That should do it," you muttered and looked back at the cameras and-

shit.

He's almost here.

You hissed to yourself cursing that you weren't more careful. Goddammit, you need an out, and now. You looked around the room and facepalmed mentally. This was horrible. The only thing you could hope to do it wait by the door and hope that he didn't see you.

You ran over and slid by the door covering your mouth. This was gonna suck. You balled your fists ready to get into a fight, you knew how to fight, you lived in the worst part of the fucking pentagram. You knew all the moves, you knew how to fight dirty. You raced through your head trying to gather your thoughts but none came. Your knees became weak. This was a real overlord. Alastor was a real overlord, shit what were you thinking.

You could hear the footsteps get closer and closer. Each step felt like hell to bare.

You can't remember how to fight, you readjust your hands trying to remember how to not break your thumb. The door handle turns and you almost lose it. You almost bolt down into the abyss. Hell it might be a better death than fucking with some flashy guy's tech.

Crash

"Dammit Alastor!" You hear the reverberate of a tv penetrate your ear. God it hurts, the footsteps retreat and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You let your hand fall to your side not letting yourself gain the time to process what just happened. Once the noise was gone you checked the cameras.

Nothing.

You opened the door and bolted it checking the cameras constantly until you were out of the wretched building. You panted heavily catching your breath as you leaned into the alleyway you and Alastor were at before. There was a fight, you could hear it. The shouting, the screaming. God were you glad you had Alastor. You covered your mouth and watched as everything slowly died down and a shadow slithered up to you.

You moved your feet back and watched as Alastor reformed in front of you. "Sorry for that one darling, I hope he didn't get too close," he said and pulled you in for a half side hug before letting you go.

"No, not... not at all," you muttered and watched as Alastor paused for a moment.

"Well he didn't see you did he?"

You looked up and paled at the thought. "Hell no! I... I hope not," you admitted slowly. "There's- there's no way," you said firmly once more and looked at Alastor who nodded.

"Understood, come along then we have work to do,"

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

Vox slammed the door into the control room. His suit was tattered and who the fuck did Alastor think he was was starting trouble on his territory. He groaned and watched as his tech lit up with almost a new color. He paused for a moment and walked forward watching as it glowed brighter than anything he's ever seen before dulling and disappearing into the darkness.

Weird.

He touched his keyboard and felt the energy spark him and it hurt. It. Hurt. He made a small face before touching it again and it hummed in response before finally fading out. Electricity wasn't supposed to hurt him. So what the hell was that? He paused and watched as it returned to its normal state and sighed before seeing something playing on the screen.

The commercial. The fucking Hazbin Hotel bullshit was playing on his screens. He slammed his hand down and began trying to fix it only to find it kicking him out. What the hell? He tried again only to be met with the same fate not only that but a message appearing on the screen.

You cannot access this. Please try something else.

He shouted in frustration. "What the fuck is happening!?" He swiped over the screens and found something.

Footage.

Footage of what the hell happened.

Next? --->

if you would like to be notified just comment so :)

[miss-sturn]

★彡[ʙᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ - ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ]彡★

(p1)

Summary: Ben is in love with his best friend's sister. But he can't be with her like that. Word count: Just under 1.3k !! Warnings: Mentions of smoking, Light cursing! Just pure fluff :) A/n: Been wanting to write for Ben for a while! There are barely any Ben of the week fics!!

As she stumbled out of the bar, her laughter flickered like a neon sign.

Her flushed cheeks and lopsided smile lit up when her eyes met mine, as if she’d found what she’d been searching for.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” I sighed, stepping closer and offering her my arm.

“No, I can’t drive!” she protested, throwing her hands up, only to lose her balance and fall right into my open arms.

I looked down at her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Then, with an unimpressed raise of my eyebrow, I said, “I wasn’t asking you to.”

She squinted at me with mock seriousness, her head tilting slightly. “I’m not really drunk. I never get that… fucked up!” Her words tumbled over each other, betraying her claim.

“Uh-huh." I shrugged off my coat and gently draped it over her shoulders, the weight of it drawing a soft hum from her.

“I’m serious! I’m so sober!” she giggled, leaning into me with all the grace of a baby deer. Her head rested on my shoulder for a moment, and I felt her breath hitch before she exhaled softly, content.

Her fingers clutched at the edges of the coat, pulling it tighter around herself. “You’re warm,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, her defenses melting in the cool night air.

♪ I love to see you shine in the night

Like the diamond you are ♪

I subtly glanced down at her, trying to ignore the way her face glowed under the streetlight, soft and perfect, like it was carved just to make me lose my mind.

There she was, wrapped in my coat, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as we walked. Her warmth seeped through the fabric, and I was doing everything I could to ignore the way it made me feel.

Out of nowhere, she stopped and turned toward me. Before I could say anything, her arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm, unexpected hug.

I froze, my arms hovering awkwardly at my sides. What was she doing? Did she even know what she was doing?

“Thank you,” she mumbled against my chest, her voice muffled but sincere.

♪ Just hold me in the dark ♪

Slowly, cautiously, I let my arms fold around her, holding her close. It felt right—too right—and that’s what made it so wrong. She wasn’t just anyone; she was his sister. My best friend’s sister.

The unspoken rule had always been clear: stay away from her. She was off-limits, untouchable, someone I wasn’t even supposed to think about like this. But as I held her now, her warmth seeping into me, all I could think was how impossible it was to let go.

♪ No one’s gotta know what we doHit me up when you’re bored ♪

What if we didn’t tell anyone?

What if we didn’t have to?

The thought hit me like a whisper in the back of my mind, quiet but insistent. Memories stirred—ones I’d tried to forget but couldn’t.

The way she’d leaned in close during movie nights, her laughter brushing against my ear, making my pulse race. The late-night talks when everyone else was asleep, her voice soft, her eyes holding something unspoken.

And that time she’d reached out to fix my hair, her fingers grazing my forehead, lingering just a second too long.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want her. She was drunk. But with her in my arms now, it felt like the only thing I’d ever wanted.

Her breath was slow, steady, like she was just as caught in the moment as I was. Then, she pulled away slightly, her eyes wide and innocent, like she had no idea how much she was driving me crazy. 

Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at me, her face glowing softly in the streetlight. She was so damn pretty, the kind of pretty that made my heart pound in my chest and my hands feel shaky.

Her eyes drifted from mine, down to my lips, and I felt the pull of temptation shoot through me. God, I could kiss her right now.

"Ben?" she whispered, her voice soft and almost fragile, as if she knew what was on my mind.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips parting just enough for me to see the faintest hint of a smile.

The moment felt like it was stretching on forever, and I could already feel myself leaning in, my breath hitching. But before I could make the move, a voice broke through the thick air between us.

“Need a ride back, Ben?”

I flinched, my heart pounding even harder. Curtis. My best friend. My fucking roommate.

Her brother.

He stood there, eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at his lips. His gaze flicked between us, suspicion clear in his eyes. Shit.

That look should have been enough to stop me, to remind me why I couldn’t do this—why he would kill me if he ever found out. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.

I quickly looked back at her, just as she pulled away, her expression unreadable but soft. She didn’t say anything, but I could see the question in her eyes—What now?

Curtis broke the tension with a laugh. “What, you two gonna stand out here all night or are you gonna get in?”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Saying yes would be awkward—he’d definitely notice. But if I said no, I’d be stuck walking back in the freezing cold, alone. I glanced at her one last time, guilt flooding my chest.

She smiled softly, like she understood. It was too dangerous. But damn, I wanted to give in.

I let go of her, the coldness settling in as I turned to Curtis. “Nah, I’m good,” I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I need to be somewhere.”

Curtis raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. I turned back to her, giving her a tight smile. “Bye,” I said too quietly, watching her slide into the car. My stomach twisted.

As the car pulled away, I shoved my hands into my pockets and sighed, the cold air stinging my skin. My mind was racing. What just happened?

I couldn’t stop thinking about her—how she felt in my arms, the way she looked at me. Her smile made me feel like I could do anything, even though I knew it was wrong.

Then it started to rain. Hard. Of course, it did. The universe had perfect timing when it came to ruining my mood.

I kicked at the ground, irritated, my feet splashing through puddles as I walked. I couldn’t stop replaying the look she gave me. I should’ve kissed her.

I wanted to kiss her. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t feel this pull towards her, no matter how wrong it felt.

I pulled out a blunt from my jacket, lighting it up without even thinking. Maybe it was a stupid move, but I didn’t care. I needed something to numb the frustration, the confusion. 

The smoke filled my lungs, and for a moment, everything felt hazy. The rain poured harder, but I didn’t care. I kept walking, letting the buzz take over, the cold now just a distant thing.

taglist: @lolastrniolo @sturniololuv08 @chrislilcumslvt @lonleyheartsclub @shadowthesim

(lmk if you wanna be added!)

sneaky part 2 coming up...

[jake-wheeler]

Iwan Rheon and Sacha Dhawan in WOLF (2023) Season 1 (Part 2)

[purple-obsidian]

beautiful mind (18+, j'onn j'onzz x fem human reader)

⭓ warming up to write some alien sex, lemme know who wants to see part 2 👽

“J’onn… why did you change?” You ask, tilting your head a little as you watch him exit your bathroom. You have been seeing the Martian for a few weeks now, going on dates and spending time together, and tonight you finally invited him back to your place, for what you’re hoping to be a romantic evening.

It started off great, you and him lounging on your couch and talking about your week. But halfway through the bottle of wine you were sharing, he excused himself to use your restroom, and now you’re sad to see that he is no longer his normal green self, but the human version of himself that he shifts into when you two are in public together.

“My apologies,” he begins, his deep voice tinged with embarrassment, “from what I have learned of human dating expectations, I assumed your invitation back to your place insinuated the possibility of engaging in physical intimacy. I… wanted to be prepared. Please forgive me if I was bold to assume as much.”

You smile, and shake your head softly. “No, you read the situation correctly. I guess…” You blush a little, and rub your hand up and down your arm nervously, trying to get the goose bumps to go away, “I guess I was looking forward to seeing more of the real you.”

J’onn ponders your words for a moment. He wasn’t expecting this. He’s been with a couple human women before, but he never felt like they would be comfortable with him as he really is. They never asked.

“The real me.” He repeats back thoughtfully.

“Yes.” You stand up from the couch you two were sitting on and walk towards him as you explain. “I think you’re quite handsome either way, but I want you to be yourself around me. I really like you, J’onn. And I want to get to know more about you, especially about what makes you different.”

The Martian smiles down at you warmly. “If that’s the case… then I have a confession to make.”

“I’m all ears.” You reach for his hand and hold it in your own, encouraging him.

J'onn reaches his other hand out to caress your cheek gently, almost reverent in how he handles you.

“They way you’ve seen me… the way the rest of the league sees me, it isn’t actually my true Martian form.”

You raise your eyebrow in confusion. “No?”

“No. This…” you watch in awe as his human body morphs back into his familiar green features. "This, is a more humanoid version of my Martian self. When I first came to earth, I wanted to appear less frightening to humans, and opted to present myself this way."

Your mind is racing, curiosity getting the better of you. You're already enamored by him, you have been for a while now. But knowing you haven't even seen the real him yet makes your heart beat faster in anticipation. His deep red eyes look down at you with affection as he sees how excited you're getting.

"I… I want to see. Please? If you're comfortable, that is." You release his hand and bridge the gap between you, embracing the tall, green alien gently.

He accepts your embrace readily. "I haven't shared my true form with many people here on earth. I must warn you, it can be quite… jarring."

But even as he says this, you see him grin down at you, and feel his strong hands run through your hair. He knows you well enough by now that he's confident you won't be scared of him. Its one of the things he admires most about you, how accepting and open-minded you are, approaching the unknown with curiosity rather than fear.

It makes him feel safe with you.

"Maybe I'm in the mood to be jarred." You suggest with a sly smile. You lean up to place a kiss on his cheek, and wrap your arms around his neck as his hands shift down, resting on your waist. “I hope you know you can trust me."

Feeling you murmur into his neck and hold him so tenderly is affecting him. He wants to show you, to bare himself to you fully and see your reaction. He doesn't really think you'll respond negatively, but there's still something nagging at him, which gives him pause.

"I am willing to show you. But perhaps… not tonight. I don't want to ruin the mood."

You frown, and pull away just enough that you can look up at him again. "Ruin the mood? I don't understand."

"Allow me to explain. Martians don't engage in physical intimacy the same way humans do. I was hoping tonight would be about us getting closer, in a way that's comfortable for you. I don't want to distract from that. My Martian form doesn't have any reproductive organs that resemble what you're used to." He explains in his deep, calming voice that you've become extremely fond of as of late.

"J'onn, you're killing me." You groan, chuckling and leaning your head on his chest. He smells amazing, thanks to the cologne Clark recommended to him. As another alien who’s dated human women, J'onn has been consulting with his friend regularly for advice, most of which has helped his confidence tremendously in your budding relationship. "I don't know how else to say it. I want to know. I want to know it all. You know so much about humans and our way of life, but I want to know more about you. Who says our first time has to be what I'm most familiar with? I'm comfortable with you. As long as we go slow, I'm sure I'll enjoy myself."

J'onn smiles even wider at you response and holds you close to his chest, his hand still tangled in your hair. He's picturing it in his mind now, being with you and showing you how sex with a Martian can be, quite literally, mind-blowing. He would be lying if he said the idea didn't arouse him.

"Martians are a highly psychic people. Intimacy is rarely ever just a physical engagement, but the melding of two minds as well. Is that something you're comfortable with?" He asks. You can pick up the slight nervousness in his voice.

"Melding of minds?" You repeat back. "So in order for us to…be together, in that way, you'll have to read my mind?"

This does give you pause, your mind isn't exactly the most happy place. It is when you're with J'onn, but opening yourself up in such a way sounds intimidating. You're worried that he won't like what he sees. Every secret and embarrassing moment, does that mean he will know it all?

"Our minds will be connected. I will not intentionally pry into anything private, but yes. It involves being engaged together in the present moment. It allows for open communication to ensure both of our experiences are pleasurable, and so we can avoid any discomfort, if either of us wishes to stop."

The apprehension and anxiety you feel is overshadowed by your curiosity and growing arousal. They way he's holding you against him, gently massaging the back of your neck and explaining all this to you, it makes your heart beat faster and your stomach get a weird, fluttery feeling.

J'onn has always come across as very reserved and proper. Much to your delight, you've gotten to see a different side of him since he asked you out, and the more you get to see of his true personality, the more you adore him. How could you pass up the opportunity to take a peek into his beautiful mind?

Trying not to appear too eager, you lean up to place a few soft, warm kisses below his ear. "I want to try. I want to learn how to make you feel good. And I want to see the real you. Please?"

You asking so politely is endearing to him. His own pulse quickens as he thinks about how to make this work, with you not being a shapeshifter or psychic. He will have to do a lot of the work, at least the first time as you get used to him. But J'onn doesn't mind that one bit. He hopes this is the first time of many.

"Since you said please." He teases, releasing you from his embrace and staring down into your eyes. You gaze back up at him lovingly, but your eyes leave his when you notice his form shift once again. He grows a few inches taller, and his features contort and twist until his head is no longer rounded like a human skull, but elongated with ridges and small horns. His dark red eyes grow larger, and the muscles in his abdomen morph and change, causing his body shape to be slightly more… alien. There's no other word for him. Its different. He's unlike any creature you've ever seen.

But there's still an elegance about him. You don't find it unnerving or scary, but mesmerizing. Before you can stop yourself, you reach out to graze your fingertips over the green skin of his chest, marveling at how smooth and firm it feels. You trace the ridges and muscles, exploring him with your hands and familiarizing yourself with his true form.

"Is it safe to assume, you don't find my body off-putting?" He asks you with a chuckle. He can see the fascination in your eyes, but he wants to hear you say it.

"You're beautiful." You blurt out, now caressing him with both hands, slowly trailing them higher until you're reaching up to touch the small, blunt horns along his head. "Were all Martians as handsome as you? Or were they each different, like humans?"

Your flattery leaves him beaming, albeit slightly embarrassed. He places his hand over your own, holding it more firmly to the side of his face. "Like humans, a Martian's true form may vary in size and appearance. But on Ma'aleca'andra, we focused more on ones inner self, valuing beauty of thought over physical appearance."

"Please, show me." You ask in a low, almost desperate tone. You want to see his beautiful mind. You want to know all of him, and J'onn is happy to oblige, picking you up gently and taking you to your bedroom.

⭓ part 2 is out now, click here to read.

[yuesgirlfriend]

of birds and honey

part 1

(simon "ghost" riley x reader) medieval AU

summary: the year is 1312, and your fathers knight follows you to the wood.

The great hills surrounding the castle are a patchwork of green and yellows, as they always are during the summer months. Gray skies up ahead do nothing to dampen the mood of the castle; everyone is bustling about, preparing for the feast marking the new battalions arrival, as if their presence signifies something happier than impending war. 

She can see them, now, where she is perched atop the highest wall-practiced, without fear- in a way her old governesses would have certainly called unbecoming of a lady. But did not the bible speak of the virtues of a young lady- justice, fortitude, among them?

(It takes great fortitude to learn the secrets she has learned, to climb over steep walls like they were bales of hay, to listen to words she would have heard anyway, had she been born a man. Listening from the eaves and skulking about is an act of justice, not a sin.) 

The men, traversing down the trail, look like ants, she thinks- where she sits high above them, balancing on the stone, they look like children's toys. Tiny wooden figures, a small boy's idea of heroes, lined up on the yellow-green patchwork quilt. 

When they finally ride over the moat and into the stronghold, they look like any other collection knights she has seen- some cloaked, some helmetless, all shining in the half clouded, setting sun. 

That night is boisterous and rowdy, like any other feast. The courtyard is crowded with people- servants, villagers, everyone coming together to eat and drink and be merry. The tables are laden with the finest of foods. The smell of roast goose and heron, wine, and vomit hangs in the night air with the shouts and bawdy songs. The new knights drink and eat and throw things, singing their songs with everyone else.  The castle hums with life, every voice and every soul another cell in one great organism. 

(The whole time, she sits quietly as a lady should, but listens as a lady shouldn’t. No one notices, and why would they notice the Lord’s waif of a girl, silently eating at his right hand? The servants, the townspeople, even her father speak of her when they think she isn’t listening- she is, to them, as unnaturally quiet as a changeling and as likely to smile as a mourner. Such a shame, my lord, that  her birth took your wife, god rest her soul. And for the child to not even be a boy…)

The stories that feast are rambling and, wine drunk, but the message is clear- they are hired soldiers with no Christian names, under orders from the king to protect the stronghold that is her home.

But one stands out. The only one still wearing his painted  helmet, and as such doesn’t eat or drink with his companions. Instead, he sits on her fathers left side, speaking in low and gruff tones only when spoken to. 

She picks at her food as her ears pick up words like more men and allies and a thousand dead, all spoken in an accent she thinks more suited to a farmer than a soldier.

As the feast begins to die down, dancers lying about drunk, he walks with her Lord father, presumably to show him a weak point in the castle walls.

She follows along, unseen, silent footsteps trailing behind them in the shadows. The knight with the painted helmet is tall and broad when he waves a hand at a wall that, upon closer inspection, does seem weaker than the rest. A chink in the castle’s armor, he says. 

The fire dies out, people lay around in drunken heaps, and rats are scurrying for food in corners of the room by the time she retires for the night. Her maid is nowhere to be found- based on the way the Scotsman and her were wrapped around eachother earlier, it is likely best not to go looking for her- so she wanders alone to her quarters, a candle in one hand and a half eaten honey cake in the other. 

The halls are dimly lit labrynths, and every footstep she takes makes a wet scuff along the perpetually damp straw covering the chilled stone floors. She does not believe in sneaking about when not needed, and enjoys a reprieve from constant surveillance as she licks honey carelessly from her fingers, focusing more on the sweetness of the honey cake than her surroundings.

And just as she turns the corner to the starcase, a hand shoots out from a shadow  and grabs her arm. 

Her gasp is muffled by a large hand, gloved. His other hand plucks the candle from her grasp, rests it on the narrow windowsill behind him. She scrapes and thrashes at the silver of his forearm, scrambling to reach for the knife at his side before he speaks. 

“Pray, be silent, Lady- I know you are able.”

In response, she bites down on the gloved hand, hard. The man hisses but doesn’t let go, only roughly spins her to face him; and this is when she realizes it is the helmeted knight, eyes and armor shiny in the candlelight. 

She shoves at his arms, and he concedes, letting her retreat three steps up the stairs before he takes her by the hand again. 

“Release me, sir, or you will not enjoy the consequences,” She hisses. Something furious inside her is growing like a wildfire. 

“I meant no offense, but only to warn you, fair lady,” he says, seemingly contrite, but with mirth in his voice. Is he smiling, behind that hideous helmet? 

“Warn me?” She rips her hand from his. “Of what? Churlish knights, skulking behind corners?” She turns to go. 

“You are one to scold on skulking behind corners, Lady. ” Her feet freeze where they are on the steps. 

 “Yes.” His voice is rough. “You are not as invisible as you may think- not to those trained to see, Lady.  You should exercise more caution, when listenin’ from rafters and castle walls like a little bird.” He tilts his head, eyes trained on her, like a cat looking at a tree it’d like to climb. Or a bird it’d like to claw.

“I have been told you have a lovely mind. It would be a waste to see it dashed on a tower’s stony base.” 

For the first time in ages, she forces her eyes to meet anothers. His are dark, redless, with what looks like coal smudged on his eyelids and undereyes. His eyes never falter from her stare, as would be proper. His pale lashes don’t so much as flutter. 

She turns and continues walking upstairs- but before she rounds the corner, she looks behind and down to where he stands, at the base of the stairs, licking remnants of honey off his glove. 

[casuallyanidiot]

Sorry to double ask but I realize I had more thoughts:

He doesn’t have the same feeling of entitlement as a lot of this genre has (not that entitlement is a bad thing), even though you were literally given to him along with a title.

But at least in my eyes, it feels less like he just believes he should have you because he deserves it, it feels like he wishes he could’ve had the time to court you properly, and make you fall in love with him, but sadly war and royal politics took that time from him, so now he gets to have you, wether you want it or not. Something about the lost time is really one of the things that’s getting me here.

Anyways if nothin else I think you’re a phenomenal writer lmao and I’m quite happy I found your blog!

Thank you all so much! Honestly I didn't expect people to love him so much. I plan on making a proper part 2 for Yantober at least, but I like the thoughts on him.

I think what makes him so yummy is that there's a tragedy somewhere in here. You knew him when he was just an innocent boy, untainted and uncorrupted by war and heavy class difference. In fact, you might have actually liked him once upon a time.

But the love of conquest and bloodshed has been beat into Yandere knight, and you're just a casualty of that careful grooming. It's honestly so unfair that he hangs onto the hope of you being able to love him again because, in a way, it's like you are the last vestige of his normal life that he has left. He needs you because you represent a time in his life when a simple childhood crush was the biggest of his worries.

He feels bad for the way he forces you by his side because he's not just betraying you, he's betraying himself. Or at least, he's betraying the version of himself that actually deserved a chance at being with you.

It hurts since he knows that it doesn't feel right for either of you, but he'd rather be in this awful, icky situation rather than not have you at all.

[sky-is-the-limit]

Truth or Dare, Part 1.

P: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

CW: Sexual tension, Alcohol, build-up to smut.

T: Friends to Lovers.

WC: 2,243 words.

NSFW part coming soon..

You breathed a sigh of relief as your friends finally headed out, leaving you and Kyle alone in the living room.

It was a moment you had been waiting for all evening.

Knowing that Kyle had returned safely from his latest mission filled you with a sense of immense relief and you couldn't help but feel a bit selfish in your eagerness to have him all to yourself, but you knew deep down that he wanted this time alone with you just as much as you did.

The fact that you were the first person he sought out upon returning home warmed your heart in a way that words couldn't fully express.

And so you found yourself perched on one edge of the couch, a comfortable distance from your best friend who reclined on the opposite side, his back against the armrest.

Your limbs felt a bit heavier than usual, a lingering effect of the many beers you had indulged in earlier but it was a very much needed break.

With a slight tilt of his head, Kyle brought the rim of the last beer bottle to his lips, taking a slow sip as he watched you with a lighthearted grin.

"Truth or Dare?" He chimed in, his playful tone carrying a hint of the night's lingering intoxication.

Your heart raced as you watched him, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something more, something you couldn't quite name but longed to explore.

"Kyle, come on." You chuckled, your eyes rolling in mock exasperation. Yet, beneath the teasing, there was a warmth in your tone, a fondness you couldn't hide.

That or maybe the smile that couldn't stay hidden as it tugged at your lips. "What are we? Twelve?"

"Go on." Kyle urged, brushing off your question with a gentle poke at your ankle, where it met his knee.

"Truth, I guess."

"Is it true that you and that asshole with the bad haircut had sex?" As Kyle's words tumbled out, the air seemed to thicken.

His smile dissolved into a tight line, his brows furrowing slightly as if the mere thought he uttered soured his mood.

"Kyle!" The exclamation burst from your lips, your eyes widening in surprise at his boldness.

You had hoped that he might've forgotten about it, even though you briefly mentioned it to him through text while he was away. You recalled the casual conversation, how you had mentioned meeting a guy at a bar and going on a few dates, only for it not to work out. As expected.

"What? I'm curious." The Sergeant shrugged casually, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering intensity.

As he leaned back, a picture of ease, his toned arms crossed over his chest, you couldn't help but steal a glance.

You lied to yourself, claiming you didn't mean to stare, but it was impossible not to when his black tight tee hugged his sculpted body so perfectly, accentuating every curve and contour of his muscular frame.

Despite being friends, it was undeniable how ridiculously good looking he was, something that never failed to catch you off guard.

"Plus, you never told me how that went, so.." His tone shifted, less playful now and more edged with something you couldn't quite place.

Perhaps it was the intoxication from the alcohol but his forwardness felt different, almost tinged with a hint of jealousy.

"I didn't know you were that curious about my sex life, Garrick."

It was a feeble attempt to steer the conversation back to safer, more familiar territory, to pretend that this moment wasn't charged with something more than two semi-drunk friends joking around.

"Can't blame a guy for being curious."

"Fine. Yeah, I did." You finally admitted to his question.

Kyle's reaction was immediate, his features tightening almost imperceptibly as he absorbed your words.

For a moment, there was only silence, broken only by the soft hum of background music and the faint rustle of fabric as Kyle shifted on the sofa.

There was a flicker in his eyes, a flash of emotion too raw to name, before it was quickly masked by a veil of indifference.

He leaned back further, his arms now behind his head as he got more comfortable on the sofa, his defined muscular biceps hypnotizing you as though he was doing it on purpose, knowing the effect he had on you.

"Yeah, well, we've all made questionable choices." He said finally, his voice casual but tinged with evident bitterness.

"Your turn, pretty boy." With a playful grin, you smoothly transitioned the conversation, addressing Kyle with the familiar nickname you always used ever since you first met.

Kyle Garrick was indeed a masterpiece of nature. He seemed to have been sculpted by the gods themselves, with skin bronzed by the sun's caress, amber eyes that captivated all who met their gaze and a smile so captivating that not even the world's greatest poet could find the right words to describe.

"Dare, obviously." He declared with a grin.

"Ah, such a brave Sergeant." You remarked sarcastically, using his military rank to poke fun at his very predictable choice.

"Hm. I dare you to... Give me your shirt." You continued, your smirk widening as you leaned in closer, your fingers briefly grazing the seams of his black cotton shirt.

Visibly, Kyle tensed under your touch, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes remained glued to your fingers, tracing their every movement whilst they pulled back from the tantalizing proximity to his v-line.

If only you could glimpse what was going on through that pretty head of his. But even the mere thought of delving into the depths of his mind sent a shiver down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Y/N?" Kyle's voice pierced the air, its usual cocky, playful tone replaced by something more serious, low, and gravelly.

It was as if the dare had been set by him, not you, as if he was dangerously close to encaging you like a predator does with its prey.

As the seconds passed, it felt like you were dancing on the edge of a dangerous cliff, a line you were about to cross without second thought.

It wasn't just a playful game anymore, your close friendship hung in the balance, poised to fall into something reckless, a one time thing you could blame on the alcohol and the heat of the moment.

But deep down, you knew that the crack in your friendship would remain. A fracture that no amount of laughter or shared memories could fully mend if he was to touch you the way you always wanted him to.

And yet, despite the consequences of such scenario, the way Kyle manspread on the couch, his defined arms inviting you in and the sinful thoughts were written all over his gaze, convinced you that it'd be worth it.

"You know I've always had my eye on that shirt, Garrick." You said, trying your best to seem nonchalant, to mask the desperation clawing at your insides. "Not everyone wants to fuck you."

Kyle chuckled, shaking his head as if amused by his own unspoken thoughts. "Lying is not part of the game, sweetheart."

The pet name sent a rush through your veins, despite having heard it countless times before. "Truth or Dare, then?"

You intended to say truth, wanted to say truth, but your mouth moved before your brain could catch up. "Dare."

Kyle's eyebrow arched in surprise, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"I dare you to sit here." His voice dropped even lower, filled with implication as he patted the space barely an inch away from his lap, nestled between his spread-open thighs.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand moved, the suddenness of the gesture almost making you choke on your own saliva.

For a moment, you were frozen, unable to even blink. He could have easily asked you to sit on his lap, but this? This was something else entirely. It was a calculated move, designed to test your resolve, to push you to the edge and see just how far you were willing to go.

Kyle wasn't just playing games. He was playing with fire, stoking the flames until they threatened to consume you both. And deep down, you knew that's exactly what he wanted from the start. He wanted to torture you enough to make you realize that you wanted it, to shamelessly admit it out loud.

Timidly, you shifted your body from the end of the couch to move to where he instructed you, every passing second feeling like an eternity as the anticipation coiled tighter in your belly.

You were acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs, the undeniable arousal that pulsed through your veins, making your skin flush with heat with every movement.

As you settled into the space beside him, your hips facing forward to ensure your feet touched the ground, you couldn't help but notice how your body aligned with the front of his crotch as your back touched the inside of his thigh that was relaxed on the sofa.

The material of his jeans brushed against the end of your dress, sending a jolt of heat straight to your throbbing core.

Gathering whatever sanity you had left, you blurted out a fast-paced, "Your turn."

You refused to meet his gaze, the intensity of it feeling like it could burn through your skin.

"Truth."

"Oh? Not so brave now, hm?" With a self-assured expression, your face turned to meet Kyle's eyes, relishing the power you felt rushing through you to this unexpected choice.

"Is it true that you've had at least one wet dream about me, Sergeant?" You inquired, your tone low and sultry.

With deliberate slowness, you leaned back, allowing yourself to get comfortable against his thigh and crossed one leg over the other to apply subtle pressure against your sensitive parts.

"More than one." Kyle confessed casually, his voice steady despite the bombshell he had just dropped and his hand, once resting on his thigh, now reached out to intertwine with one of your locks.

The pulsing between your legs intensified, a relentless throb that demanded attention while your gaze remained locked with his.

''Dare.'' The word escaped your lips almost instinctively, without waiting for him to ask the question or say anything, at all.

It was as though you already surrendered, yearning for the game to end so that the tension between you could finally be unleashed.

"I dare you to sit on my lap." Kyle's chuckle cut through the tension like a knife, his gaze darkening with a predatory gleam as he observed your reaction.

"Kyle.."

With deliberate slowness, Kyle's hand trailed down from your hair to the back of your neck, caressing the skin torturously slow.

"Cowards take a shot, Y/N." His free hand patted on his thigh, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes darted to the table crowded with drinks then back at you.

Every nerve in your body screamed for you to comply and so you did.

"Good thing I'm not one, Kyle." As you closed the distance between you and him, his eyes followed your every move, dark with need.

Taking a deep breath, you shifter your body upward and then lowered yourself onto his lap, feeling the heat of his body beneath you.

The scent of his expensive cologne mixed with the lingering alcohol enveloped you in an intoxicating haze, unable to form any coherent thoughts that would help your situation.

Beneath you, you could feel him tense, his semi-hardened cock pressing insistently against the fabric of his tight jeans, nestled snugly between your ass globes.

All you could manage was a simple, breathless "So?"

"Dare." Kyle's lips curled into a knowing smile.

As you gathered your courage, thoughts raced through your mind like a thunderstorm, each one more daring than the last.

With a determined breath, you began, "I dare you to..." You wanted him, badly, and now was the moment to make your move.

With a trembling hand, you lifted it to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch.

"Tell me what we were doing in those dreams." You dared, your voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil of all kinds of emotions swirling within you.

Your eyes darted from his lips back to his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation but you found nothing but fierce determination mirrored in his gaze.

As Kyle murmured, "Are you sure?" his hand shifted from a gentle caress to a firm grip around your neck as if he couldn't get enough of such a simple touch.

It was a warning, a silent promise of what he might do once given the green light. But you didn't hesitate. You simply nodded in response, granting him permission to cross that line, to take the lead.

Without wasting another second, he leaned in closer.

The warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear sent a tingle down your spine when Kyle finally whispered, "As you wish, love."

And in that moment, you knew that whatever laid ahead, you were ready to surrender to him completely.

[diyasgarden]

It’s not that you have anything against Art Donaldson personally, you just did not want to be a sports journalist. You played couple years of college volleyball, but you did not want to dedicate your life to volleyball or any sport for that matter.

What made it worse was that it was your first big article. You were even excited when you got the email from the editor saying he had something special he wanted you to work on. Turns out something special means "i found out you played a sport, now you're writing this article." You don't even really remember what he said, something along the lines of "upcoming tennis star" and "do a little profile." The paper you worked at it was a small local one, and being told you were writing an article meant you had to do so. Really it was a simple assignment, but you were bitter about it anyway.

You didn't care enough to go down to see him play. You watched some clips online, couple of games, and listened to sports commentators. Enough information to put together a profile. He was a good player, good-looking, and decently talented, but what none of that really stood out to you. No what caught your attention was his wife: Tashi Duncan.

The way he looked over to her at the end of a set as if to gauge her reaction. The way the commentators noted she was also his coach. Just the way she carried herself was magnetizing. All it took was a couple of google searches to find out that used to play tennis too. And god if Art was good at tennis, than Tashi was a god at it. You started to wonder why she wasn't the one on the court, but those questions were answered when you saw articles about her accident at Stanford.

But the more you found old videos of Tashi playing, the more you saw her style in Art. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together; Art was the player he was because of Tashi. And yeah most people could have probably guessed this and there was definitely a nice way of putting it, but when you wrote your article you wasn't really considering that. Long story short, your profile seemed to be more of a profile of Tashi more than it was Art, and it was definitely meaner to Art than it had to be (well you were still somewhat bitter about having to write the article in the first place).

In a weird way, even with the bitterness you were proud of it. It felt more than just some piece only praising Art Donaldson. It was deeper, felt more of a story. Was your tone unnecessary? Yes, but you reasoned it just made the article more fun to read. And regardless, it was published, so it had to be good. You didn't expect much from it, you were just glad to have gotten it over with. And you hoped it was the last time you'd have to write a sports article.

Just imagine your surprise, when couple days later, you get an email from tashidonaldson@gmail.com asking to meet you at a local restaurant to talk.

[milksuu]

❀. │GIRL DINNER (O1)│. ❀

❥ prompt: You're hungry. You want food. You want a snack. You just want SOMETHING. You send your HEARTSTEEL boyfriend(s) on a food-run adventure. Let's see what each boy brings back. ❥ content/warnings: sexually suggestive themes, profanity, fluff ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel (aphelios,kayn,ezreal) / f!reader

APHELIOS

sour patch kids and ariZona tea

Aphelios sneaks behind you, and presses the cold can against your neck. He can't help but enjoy how much you pout and whine about it.

He also can't help enjoying every expression you make: the first satisfied sip of your tea, the excitement of opening up the candy bag, and your mouth pursing from the sour taste. Then smiling once the sweetness settles.

But what Aphelios can't help most, is pulling down his mask, and tasting the sugar sparkling your lips. Smiling to himself when you're lost for words, cheeks stained pink, and nervously drawing cute circles against his chest.

It's enough to make him come back for seconds. And when he does, you taste even sweeter than the first. He was planning for a third but...he can wait till later.

Most likely past midnight underneath his sheets. When everyone's asleep but you two. And only he can hear the even sweeter noises you make—just for him. Only for him. Like an exclusive confectionary shop, and he's the only one allowed inside.

Until then, he’ll just savor the moment of watching you enjoy your snacks.

Aphelios likes his sweets. Even though he'll never admit it to anyone. But you're the only exception.

KAYN

flamin' hot fries and cherry coke

Kayn devoted his precocious time to get you something you could obviously get yourself, because he tolerates 'likes' you. (Whatever that means.)

He tosses the chip bag and drink in your lap, and plops down next to you. Pretending not to care whether or not you like his choices. Not his problem if you don't like it. He did you a favor, after all.

But all of that's a lie. He cares, like a lot. More than he wants to admit it. Because he values your opinion. And wants your validation. He scuffs to himself. Like he would ever beg or ask for it. He probably would.

You pause, staring at the snacks without a word. The anticipation is driving him damn near crazy.  And if you had to be honest with him…the combo is your total favorite!

You show your appreciation with showering praise, a hug around his neck, and love pats to his hair. He hates it. He fucking loves it.

Kayn doesn't easily show his joy. His happiness at your reaction starts off with a simple smile. Not so commonplace for someone like him. But then it curls into that all infamous smirk of his that only spells trouble.

Kayn was hungry himself. This whole time, didn't you know? Silly (and naive) of you not to have noticed. His gaze devours you till you find yourself caught by his lips. The nips and bites tell you the poor boy is starving. And he deepens the kiss till....

Well, guess your snacks can wait.

EZREAL

happy meal and sprite

Ezreal is excited to give you this happy meal. Why? Well, that's a surprise! And he loves surprising you.

He first covers your eyes and asks you to guess who it is. He does this all the time. You giggle at how silly it is. But you wouldn't want it any other way.

He then presents the box with the famous 'Ta-Da!' reveal.

You absolutely LOVE the happy meal from PoroKing! Not only is the food good, but the box art is always a cute treat to see.

Oh, but that wasn't the best part about it. The surprise was still inside. When you open the box, the toy inside is what makes you absolutely go crazy. It's the limited edition PoroKing keychain!

It's the only one you don't have in the entire collection, and somehow, Ezreal managed to get it for you.

You can't help yourself. You bounce onto his lap, and press your body and lips against his. He really wasn't expecting this much of a reaction! Afraid you might bounce away from how giddy you are, he takes your hips and presses you closer. Closer to the point where…

Looks like there's more than one surprise happening tonight.

[blvckswxnji]

Getting my start on part 2!! 😌 In the mean time enjoy this scrumptious edit of Hobie….

Lmk if anymore of you want to be tagged! 🤍

[fizziepopangel]

"Ain't the Romantic Type"

* Author's note: Heyyyyyy everyone! I'm back with another fic, and let me just say that I'm really excited about this one because I'm honestly pretty proud of it. I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do!

p.s. As always, you can always use the Fic Request Form to request something specific, and be sure to keep an eye out for part two of this fic since it'll be coming soon!😋❤️

“He just ain't the romantic type….” The words rang in Husk's mind as he stood in front of the mirror in Angel's room, adjusting his jacket for what he knew must've been the millionth time. He felt ridiculous; he hadn't been dressed up like this since he sold his soul, and after having gotten used to his usual attire, it felt wrong for him to be all dressed up.

Lost in his reflection, he almost hadn’t noticed Fat Nuggets by his feet with a worried expression. “Oink!" Fat Nuggets bumped his head gently against the hell cat's leg.

"What's wrong?” Husk stared at the pig, who didn't do much but stare back at him. "Don't look at me like that! You think I don't know I look fuckin’ ridiculous. I know it!” The pig snorted softly, bumping Husk’s leg again. " Look, I ain't got time for your pig crap right now, Angel’s gonna be back soon and I gotta make sure everything is perfect so… I don't know, go do whatever it is pigs do.”

Rather than leaving, the little pig sat down, oinking and snorting again. Husk groaned, annoyed as he leaned down to look at the little creature.  “Look, I’m gonna level with you, Nuggets, I gotta do this for Angel. Ok, so I need you to shut up and be supportive.” When the pig just stared at him, oinking in a way that sounded like he was almost annoyed himself. “He deserves this, right? You know he deserves this so just behave yourself tonight.”

Before the pig could make his oink-y little argument, the pair heard the keys jingle in the door. Husk immediately straightened up, fixing his nice jacket again and grabbing the bouquet of flowers he’d left on the coffee table beside the nice meal he had prepared for them, taking his place in front of the door quickly and putting on a smile just in time to see Angel open his door.

Angel steps into his room looking ragged, his bag from the club in his hand. It had been a shitm night, filled with more abuse from Valentino than usual, and a mess of men who did horrible things to him. He just wanted to go home and wash off the blur of the night before curling up in bed and hopefully getting some sleep… But as he turned around, he was met with Husk, smiling in his dress jacket with a bouquet of pink red and pink roses as he stood in front of a nice little candlelit meal on the coffee table. Angel stared at the sight in front of him, his lip trembling before tears began streaming down his face.

Husk was thrilled at first, his pride swelling until he realized that those tears were turning to sobs as he watched as his boyfriend sank to his knees in front of him. The proud smile he wore just moments before quickly turned to a look of horror.

 

“Angel? Babe, what’s wrong?” Husk did his best to keep the panic out of his voice, but he was terrified. He had talked to the sappiest person he knew (Charlie of course), and he had done hours of research online to make this night as romantic and perfect as he could, and as he glanced back at the scene he had set behind him, worried. “Did I do something wrong? Is…is this not romantic enough?”

Sobbing was the only response Husk got.

Fat Nuggets squealed and oinked, running to his owner and nuzzling into him in an attempt to comfort him.

“I can’t do this!” Angel sobbed raggedly. “I can’t, I can’t, I cant!”

Husk’s heart nearly stopped at the words. He and Angel had been dating for nearly a year and a half and he had thought everything was going well; decent dates, good sex, and amazing conversations and he had been trying his damndest not to fuck this up because he always seemed to fuck up the good relationships he landed himself in; always ended up hurting good people…. He took a breath, trying to keep himself from sinking deeper into that pit of panic. He knew he wouldn’t be any good to Angel if he started spiraling too.

“Angelcakes?” Husk’s gruff voice is gentler than he usually spoke, though it still shook slightly as he took a step toward his sobbing partner, a hand outstretched in an offering of comfort. “Angelcakes, baby, can you–”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” The scream that ripped from Angel’s throat was almost guttural and he scrambled away from his boyfriend’s touch, recoiling as if he were disgusted by the thought of being in his arms despite the spider demon’s usual love for physical affection. 

In an act of defense, Fat Nuggets placed himself in front of his beloved owner, staring at Husk as if daring him to come closer… But Husk just stood there, frozen as his boyfriend cowered away from him, trembling and sobbing so hard he could hardly breath. And that the scene everyone walked into when Vaggie slammed the door open….

Read the next part here: Part 2