#please........ come play with me in this space.......

[eiightysixbaby]

winter dreams

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

eddie really wants to give you a baby for christmas

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. reader and eddie are actively trying to get pregnant, unprotected piv, creampie

The fire crackles in the fireplace beside you, orange embers licking at the logs below them. The carpet is plush beneath your bare back, skin pleasantly warm from the flames.

There’s a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, its pretty colored lights partnering with the fire to cast the prettiest glow across the space. A Bing Crosby holiday album plays from the record player, volume turned low, making him sound far away; dreamlike.

Your eyes wander momentarily to the window, and you can see the snow falling down in slow, fluffy flakes. It’s like you’re inside of a snow globe, and someone just shook it upside down. You smile warmly, letting this moment wrap you up in its joy.

Eddie rocks slowly into you, hands braced on the floor beside your head. Every move he makes is entirely intentional, filling you completely full of him with each thrust. Despite his loving pace, it still knocks the breath out of you, feeling him all over you; everywhere.

You let out a satisfied hum, to which he grunts softly in response. His wide, beautiful brown eyes look down at you, twinkling with the reflection of the lights. Long lashes flutter before his eyelids close, face leaning into yours to press a kiss to your mouth, open in a sigh of his name.

"Fuck, baby," he groans. "Feel like fucking heaven." His voice is deep and husky, and it seems to wrap around you, enveloping you in the affection that pours from him.

You don't really respond, aside from another moan. He's turning you to mush, slowing down your brain, rendering you incapable of forming a sentence. Your fingers dig into his shoulder blades, nails digging in to his soft skin.

"Are you feeling good, sweetheart?" he asks, watching the way your eyes roll back as he delivers another deep thrust.

Typically, that question would come out a little cocky; smug. He'd be pounding you senseless, knowing damn well he's making you feel so good and also that you're in no state to respond to him. But right now, there's nothing but pure adoration behind his ask. This is love-making in its purest form, slow and steady and passionate, hands caressing tenderly and lips moving languid across searing skin.

"Yes," you gasp. "So good, baby," your brain manages to string the words together, leaving you breathily.

A pleased noise erupts from deep in his throat, and his mouth dips down to kiss the side of your face, trailing purposefully down to your neck.

"God, I love you," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, strands of his unruly curls tickling your neck.

It drags another high-pitched sound from you, and that's all the response he needs.

"Gonna get you pregnant, holy shit," he pants, statement enunciated by the slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you.

And that was always the plan, but hearing him say it now, in the heat of the moment, has your walls clenching around him, your brain fuzzy with desire.

"That what you want, baby? Hm? Want me to give you a baby for Christmas?"

You whimper, back arching til your tits are pressed against his chest, eyes screwing shut.

“Need you to use your words, honey,” he coaxes, letting his mouth dip to your cleavage, pressing a kiss featherlight to the skin.

“Yes, Eddie,” you burn. “That’s what I want.”

It’s something you’d both been talking about for a while. A baby. You’d been less and less cautious during sex lately, rolling with the mindset of, ‘if it happens, it happens’. But this, tonight— this feels more intentional, more promising.

His tongue swirls around one of your nipples, hips unwavering in their steady rocking.

“Good, baby. ‘M gonna give it to you,” he rasps, bringing his mouth back up, bottom lip dragging hot up the column of your throat until he catches your own mouth.

His tongue slots between your lips, moving slow with yours, sending a shiver straight through you. The rough pad of his thumb carefully finds your clit, snagging on it, rubbing in soft circles. A moan catches in your throat, coming out strangled, head tipping back against the soft carpeting.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, feeling that familiar swell of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, letting him play your body like an instrument, getting such pretty sounds out of you; working you up to your crescendo.

The weight of him on top of you is grounding, comforting as he sends you tipping over your edge. A few more swirls of his finger around your bud timed perfectly with his deep thrusts has you unraveling entirely. You moan unashamedly, hands desperately pulling him secure against your chest as your body shakes.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants, his voice wrecked. “I’m gonna cum, gonna cum inside you—”

And just like that, you can feel his cock twitching and his hips stilling, your insides coated with his release. He curses and groans, the noises dizzying, music to your ears. Two chests heave in unison, rising and falling, rising and falling as you both catch your breath. He doesn't pull out, in fact you think he might even push himself deeper, like he's really trying to make his seed stick.

He kisses you like it's his last moment on earth, like he's trying to breathe life into you and steal the life from you all at once. Bodies still entwined, still connected.

When he pulls away, everything feels still. The record player croons, dreams of white Christmases floating through the air. The look in Eddie's eyes says everything, no need for words.

If this were a dream, you'd never want to wake up. You're pretty certain it's real, though.

[tinkaaabutt]

FOR THE FIRST TIME— Jinx

The hum of city life buzzed faintly beyond your apartment windows, the occasional car horn breaking the rhythm of your quiet sanctuary. The vinyl you’d been spinning crackled softly as “For the First Time” by Mac DeMarco started to play, its dreamy melody filling the space.

Jinx, sprawled across your couch in her usual chaos, was mid-rant about a graffiti project she wanted to try on an old factory wall downtown. Her electric blue braids spilled over the armrest like rivers of rebellion, and her hands gestured wildly, fingers tattooed and perpetually smudged with paint.

“You don’t think I’ll get caught, right?” she asked suddenly, her bright eyes darting to yours.

You looked up from where you sat cross-legged on the floor, moisturizing your legs. The scent of cocoa butter and shea wafted into the air, mixing with the faint tang of paint fumes that always seemed to cling to Jinx.

“Girl, with the way you move? They’ll see you coming a mile away,” you teased, smiling.

Jinx pouted, sitting upright. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re loud,” you said, pointing at her with a raised brow. “Like, loud loud. You’re not exactly subtle.”

She stared at you for a moment before bursting into laughter, throwing her head back. “You’re not wrong,” she admitted. “But that’s why I’ve got you. You’re my quiet one. The stealthy one.”

You smirked, reaching for the bonnet on the table and pulling it over your freshly twisted hair. “Don’t drag me into your mess.”

“Oh, please,” she said, sliding off the couch to sit next to you on the floor. “You love my mess.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Jinx had burst into your life like a hurricane, colorful and chaotic in a way you’d never known before. You were the type to keep your head down, to mind your business and focus on your art, the vibrant canvases scattered around your apartment proof of your creativity. But Jinx? She was the opposite—loud, wild, unapologetically herself.

She’d spotted you at a street art festival a few months back, admiring a massive mural with a skeptical look on your face.

“You don’t like it?” she’d asked, suddenly at your side, a grin tugging at her lips.

You’d blinked, caught off guard. “It’s… fine. Just not my style.”

“Oh, so you’ve got style?” she’d teased, her eyes narrowing playfully.

That was how it started.

Now, she was practically a permanent fixture in your life, crashing on your couch whenever she felt like it and pulling you into her world of chaotic creativity.

“Why do you always put that on before bed?” Jinx asked, motioning toward your bonnet as you leaned back against the couch.

“Because I actually care about my hair,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “Unlike some people.”

Jinx gasped, feigning offense. “I care about my hair! Look at these braids—they’re flawless!”

You gave her a look, your lips quirking into a smile. “Yeah, because I did them for you last week. You were crying about your arms getting tired.”

“Okay, fair,” she said, leaning closer. “But that just means you’re amazing. And you’re, like, totally obsessed with me.”

You snorted. “In your dreams.”

Jinx fell silent for a moment, her teasing smile softening. “Actually… yeah. You kinda are.”

Her voice was quieter now, the usual wild energy in her eyes tempered by something you couldn’t quite place. She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge of one of your small, framed paintings leaning against the wall.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” she said softly, her eyes still fixed on the painting. “You’re just… different.”

You felt your chest tighten at her words, at the way her voice seemed to hold an unfamiliar vulnerability. “Different how?”

She finally looked at you, her gaze steady in a way that made your heart race. “Like… good different. Like when I’m around you, I don’t feel like I have to be this… crazy version of myself all the time. You don’t look at me like I’m broken or too much. You just… see me.”

Her words lingered in the air, heavy and raw. The song on the record player swirled around you, its dreamy tones a perfect backdrop to the moment.

“Jinx…”

She leaned closer, her blue braids brushing your shoulder. “You feel it too, right?”

Your breath caught. You did feel it—the magnetic pull of her, the way she lit up your world like neon against a dark sky. But you’d been afraid to name it, afraid of what it might mean.

Now, with her so close, her sharp edges softened by the dim light of your apartment, you couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I feel it.”

Her grin returned, softer this time, almost shy. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve been dying to kiss you.”

Before you could respond, she leaned in, her lips brushing yours. It was soft at first, hesitant, like she wasn’t sure you’d let her stay. But when you kissed her back, her hand found your cheek, pulling you closer.

When you finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against yours, a laugh bubbling from her lips. “Damn, I should’ve done that sooner.”

You smiled, your fingers tangling in the fabric of her hoodie. “Yeah, you should’ve.”

Outside, the city continued to hum, but for the first time in a long while, you felt like everything else could wait.

Authors note:-Let me know if you’d like more posts that are modern 😘 oh also if I should create a tag list and start having emoji anons.!

[fading-holo]

while i do agree that inclusivity should be welcomed and not fought against, the otome game title didnt change over time, ppl started using the title in tags for their games that werent otomes so that it would catch more eyes and get more visibility to make ppl play them (publishers on steam do this a lot and obey me is a victim of this too, no hate to om tho !! i used to play it) again inclusivity is a great thing but when we are talking about games like these each one has a different title to differentiate them and a lot of others arent aware of this, and since otomes are the most well known and popular they slap that name on all of these dating sim type games without learning the different names and differences. while it isnt an attack towards women players, you have to understand that there arent a lot of gaming spaces targeted towards women specifically, and most games are basically made only with men in mind, so since otomes are one of the few game genres made with women in mind they get defensive when others try and change it so it has men in mind when making them as well. most games are already made for men so it just feels upsetting for them to invade this one space where things are finally made with them in mind, so when they get defensive or say they there cant be male or gen neutral mcs, it isnt coming from a place of hate for queer people, they just want to have their own space where they can enjoy games that are made for them.

as i said before though there isnt an equivalent name to otomes with male mcs for no reason (bishojo) all of these games are dating sims but they have different names to differentiate the different genders of the mcs. this post isnt meant to hate on mcs of other genders, i welcome them all but otomes are made only for women and it feels weird to invade one of their only gaming spaces so others can feel included too when they already have multiple spaces

(most popular indie vns rn arent otomes, they are just dating sims, this isnt meant to be rude or kick others that arent women out of the space bc as i said most of these games ppl call otome arent otome LOL everyone can enjoy them !! just bc the game is a dating sim doesnt mean its an otome game, i hope i could clear this up. i understand that everyone wants to enjoy games like these and you can !! but a game where you play as gen neutral/male/gender of your choice mc ≠ otome game)

sorry for the yap sesh but i felt like i had to clear out some of the confusion regarding this, as i said though if you hate on some of these games that have gender neutral or male mcs please get yourself checked out bc its not that deep. anyone can enjoy dating sims and these games arent otome games so they arent going to take your space if youre worried about that. these new indie dating sim vns are made for everyone lol

Shout out to the men and masc leaning/presenting MCs in the otome VNs communities. 💗

Our LIs from those games love the hell out of us. Screw anyone who says other wise. 🗡️

Queer/transphobes fuck off.

[domm1etae]

melting point

san x f!reader

oneshot | mdni

1.8k

San turns up the heat with some ice-cold teasing, leaving you trembling as he pushes all the right buttons and makes you beg for more

nsfw tags under

f/m, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, pet names, dom san, slight begging, ice play, perky tits, fingering, clitplay, praise, orgasm

The low hum of the air conditioner filled the room as the warm glow of the setting sun spilled through the blinds. You leaned against the kitchen counter, the remnants of dinner cleaned up, leaving just you and San standing in the quiet space. He was still in his black sweatpants and a fitted white t-shirt, his silver chain glinting faintly under the light. His sharp, yet soft gaze lingered on you longer than usual as he crossed the distance between you.

"Come here," San murmured, his voice smooth yet commanding, his fingers brushing yours before slipping to your waist.

You let him guide you to the bedroom, his hands never leaving your hips. Once inside, the mood shifted—an electrified tension building as his lips met yours. The kiss started slow, tender, and exploratory, but it didn’t take long for him to deepen it. His tongue grazed yours as his hands roamed your sides, tracing the curve of your body.

“Couldn’t stop staring at you earlier,” he confessed between kisses, his voice low and filled with need. “You drive me crazy when you look at me like that.”

Before you knew it, you were lying beneath him on the bed, your breath hitching as he pulled your shirt over your head. San’s warm lips trailed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing sensitive spots, leaving you arching into him.

San’s hands rested firmly on your hips as he dragged his tongue down your collarbone, leaving wet, messy kisses in his wake. His lips burned against your skin, the heat a delicious contrast to the cool air-conditioned room. He gripped your hips passionately, holding you steady as your legs tangled around his waist.

You moaned softly when he nipped at the delicate skin of your neck, his chuckle reverberating against you. “Already so responsive,” San teased, his breath hot against your ear.

His fingers dipped lower, sliding under the waistband of your shorts and teasing the sensitive skin just above where you ached for him. Slowly, he pushed your shorts and panties down, leaving you exposed to him.

“Such a pretty sight,” San murmured, his thumb brushing over your clit in slow circles. You gasped at the sensation, your hips jerking instinctively toward his hand.

“San… please,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.

San smirked, slipping two fingers into you without warning. The stretch was perfect, his long, skilled fingers curling just right to hit the sweet spot inside you. He moved with precision, his thumb continuing to circle your clit as his lips traveled lower, settling on your breasts.

“These perfect, perky tits…” he muttered against your skin, his tongue swirling around your hardened nipple. His other hand cupped your other breast, squeezing lightly until a small bead of milk escaped. His breath hitched at the sight, a soft moan escaping him as he licked it up.

Your back arched off the bed as he worked you over with his mouth and hands. The way he groaned against your breast sent vibrations straight to your core. “So warm, baby… I think it’s time to cool you down.”

San reached for the glass of water fulled with ice on the nightstand. With a flick of his wrist, he grabbed a small cube of ice, the frost on it glistening in the dim light. He held it between his lips briefly, warming the sharp edges until it was smooth, all while keeping his smoldering gaze locked on yours.

He dragged the ice along your nipples, the sudden chill making you gasp and squirm beneath him. “So sensitive,” San murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He circled the ice around your nipple, letting the water drip down your chest.

“San…” you moaned, your voice needy and breathless.

“Patience, baby.” He trailed the ice lower, gliding it down your stomach and over your clit. The cold against your heat sent a jolt through your body, your thighs trembling as he pressed it more firmly against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

When the ice melted slightly, San slid his fingers back inside you, his movements deliberate and unrelenting. The combination of his fingers curling inside you and the icy sensations on your clit had you gripping the sheets, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Think you’re ready for more?” he asked, his voice dripping with lust.

“Yes… please,” you begged, your hips lifting to meet his touch.

San smirked, forming a larger shard of ice, this time with a smooth, rounded edge. He spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them as he slowly guided the ice inside you. The cold invaded your warmth, the sensation overwhelming in the best way.

You cried out, your body writhing as the ice settled deep inside you. San didn’t stop there—he used his fingers to guide it, twisting and angling it to hit every sensitive spot. The ice melted quickly, and he replaced it just as fast, reforming it with a flick of his fingers.

“Look at you,” San groaned, his voice thick with desire. “Taking it so well… you’re so perfect, baby.”

Your body trembled as you felt your orgasm building, the cold ice heightening every sensation. San’s movements became rougher, his fingers and the ice working in tandem to push you over the edge.

“Come on, beautiful,” he urged, his lips brushing against your thigh. “Come for me. Let me see you fall apart.”

With one final thrust, your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed through you. “A-ah, San!” you cried, your voice breaking as you came hard, your juices dripping down to his hand.

San pulled the melted ice out of you, his eyes dark with lust as he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. “You taste so good,” he said, his voice husky. “But we’re not done yet, princess.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your trembling thigh before disappearing to grab a towel. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was back, his smirk making your pulse quicken. “I’m going to have you on my cock all night,” he promised, his voice dripping with intent.

San quickly got rid of his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and arms. His black sweatpants hung low on his hips, teasing the hardened length pressing against the fabric. He watched you carefully, his smirk softening into something more tender as he brushed damp strands of hair from your face.

“Doing okay, baby?” he asked, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You nodded, still catching your breath. Your body tingled from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your legs weak and trembling. But the hunger in his eyes reignited the fire inside you.

“I’m good,” you whispered, your voice breathy but steady. “I need you, San. Please.”

His smirk returned, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “That’s my girl.”

San climbed onto the bed, settling between your legs. He leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, his tongue teasing yours. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve as if committing you to memory. His fingers lingered on your thighs, spreading them wider as he pressed himself against your core, still soaked and sensitive.

The friction of his sweatpants against your heat made you moan into his mouth, your hips bucking instinctively. San groaned, his patience fraying as he pushed his pants down just enough to free his aching length. He took himself in hand, stroking slowly as his eyes drank you in.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “All spread out and ready for me.”

You whimpered, reaching for him. San chuckled, grasping your wrist and pinning it above your head. “Not so fast, princess. I want to savor you a little longer.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock. The sensation sent shivers through your body, your hips lifting to meet him. But San held you down, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you in place.

“So needy,” he teased, his voice a low growl. “I love it.”

Finally, he pushed into you, his cock stretching you inch by inch. The delicious burn made you gasp, your nails digging into the sheets. San groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. “You feel so good, baby. So tight and warm.”

He started moving slowly, his thrusts deep and deliberate. Each stroke hit that perfect spot inside you, making your back arch and your moans grow louder. San’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer with every thrust.

As he found his rhythm, his pace quickened, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His name spilled from your lips like a mantra, your body surrendering completely to him.

“Look at me,” San commanded, his voice rough. You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his dark eyes made your heart race, his love and lust pouring into you with every thrust.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his grip tightening on your hips. “No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to feel you like this.”

You nodded, your words failing you as your pleasure built to a crescendo. San’s hand moved to your clit, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation sent you hurtling toward another orgasm, your body trembling beneath him.

“Come for me, baby,” San urged, his voice strained as he chased his own release. “I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

With a cry, you came undone, your walls clenching tightly around him. San groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he followed you over the edge. He buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling into you as his body shuddered.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths and the faint hum of the air conditioner. San collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back.

You smiled, nuzzling into his chest. “So are you.”

San chuckled, his grip tightening around you. “Think you can handle another round?” he teased, his playful smirk returning.

Your laughter filled the room as you swatted his chest. “Give me five minutes.”

“Take your time,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he meant it.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Hi can u pls do like a tag team type thing with Ellie Williams and vi or vi and Caitlyn please. Thank you!

Hi anon, thank you for this request. You gave me the perfect opportunity to try writing a threesome! I hope you enjoy this, I know it's more Vi-centric but I love my girl Ellie too.

Content: 1.5k words, Slight virgin/corruption kink (reader is their good girl and they gotta take her virginity!!), fingering (r! receiving), nipple-play (r! receiving), strap-on sex (r! receiving), use of pet names, not edited so may have some spelling errors

“I know what you want, angel.”

Vi’s voice cuts through your daydream. You were stuck on the way Ellie’s veins were visible through her hands and how you wanted her fingers deep inside you..you shouldn’t, ‘cause she’s supposed to be just a friend. Still, you’re a sick slut who’s imagining Ellie fucking you into outer space.

Not only that, but Vi, too. Her back, oh fuck..it’s so hard to think when she is wearing a wife-beater and her burly build is on display. You wanna claw into her back-

You’re so fucking obsessed with your two best friends, it’s unreal.

Ellie, for one, is a dream. She’s more standoffish and quiet—not shy, but prefers to keep to herself unless she’s with you and Vi. She feels comfortable, but she’s not like Vi in really any way that matters.

Where Ellie is into playing the guitar and reading comics, Vi’s into boxing and sports. You’re their cute best friend who somehow puts up with their bullshit. And right now, it’s so hard to study when Ellie suddenly shifts closer, and Vi’s words are on the other side of you, words spoken softly but teasingly into your ear.

You’re supposed to be doing peer review in your bedroom..

“W-What are you even talking about, Vi?!” You feign innocence.

Vi only laughs, and your core is heating up. How the hell did you go from playful banter to the room suddenly dripping with sexual tension, laid on so thick you swear it’s already filling your nostrils.

“Don’t act dumb, angel. We see the way you look at us. C’mon..” Her voice is alluring, soft, and it doesn’t help that Ellie is just staring at you with hungry eyes. She isn’t like Vi, not teasing and comedic when it comes to romance. That’s what is so enticing about the situation you’ve found yourself in; you have two completely different but beautiful girls in your bed! You’re somehow getting more pussy than the average masc, and you’re sporting stocking for fuck’s sake.

When your face goes all read and your fingers are trembling, it almost goes unnoticed by Ellie the way your thighs are squeezing together. She lays a hand on your left thigh, the side of you she’s sitting next to, and slowly traces her touch up and down, soft patterns as if she’s making sure you’re really into all this.

Ellie and Vi both know you’re into this..these bitches read your journal in which you talked about getting drilled by both their straps!

“Gonna get all shy on us now, angel?” Vi murmurs into your ear, lips hardly making contact with your soft skin. The funniest thing about all of this is that Ellie is the one touching you and she hasn’t said a single word. It’s Vi guiding this, and Ellie adds onto your neediness.

Then, you feel Vi’s soft lips trace over the side of your neck. You could’ve came right then and there, and Vi earned herself a gasp.

“P-Please..” Is all you can even say. Your brain is much too fucked to process anything else, to think of anything but getting fucked by your two friends who you cherish more than anything in this world.

Your thighs squeeze and Ellie leans closer into you. Now, her lips are smothering the opposite side of your neck. You’re currently feeling all the blood in your body rush down to your clit. Your panties are as soaked as they’d be at a water park.

“Please what? C’mon, baby..tell me ‘n Els what you need.”

“I need you to make me feel good!”

You sounded so breathless already, it was pretty cute. They couldn’t deny you when you were like this.

-

You were left in absolutely but your thigh-high stockings—Vi and Ellie mutually agreed to keep those on. You’re laid out, Vi holding your legs open so you don’t shy away, with your slick pussy on full display. You’re already a goner.

Vi has a huge dildo attached to the harness around her waist. You did not know she brought that monster. Ellie definitely knew this, it had to be planned.

Vi needs to prep you first, she doesn’t wanna hurt her and Ellie’s good girl. Her fingers first trail over your pussy lips, eliciting already desperate moans from you. Ellie is watching and you swear she has hearts in her eyes. She pressed her middle finger into your pussy slightly, making you immediately clench your thighs together around her hand, but she doesn’t let up because you’re giving her soft little little pleas, “p-please, Vi..”, all she wants is to please you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” She groans as she slides her finger knuckles deep into your sopping pussy, watching your reaction to make sure you’re doing okay, and then slowly pulls out and adds another, stretching you open slowly as your inner walls swallow her fingers up.

Ellie is sat beside your sprawled body, groping your tits and leaning down to swallow your little whines of need with her mouth.

Kissing Ellie is like another level of heaven. It’s what you imagine being high to be like, if you ever actually smoked weed. Her lips are so soft, so warm. Her tongue licks all over your mouth and it makes you moan even more. When she pulls away, you’re breathless.

“Think you can take my dick, baby?” Vi inquires, and you immediately let out a slutty moan.

“I can, I promise!! Please give it to me, Vi..”

Vi nearly loses her shit when she hears that. It’s always the good girls that are most desperate, am I right?

“Give it to her, Vi. She’ll take it.” Ellie assures the pink-haired girl, and it makes you even wetter that she is talking to Vi as if you’re not there, like you’re basically too dumbed down to understand what she is talking about.

Vi doesn’t seem to wanna waste much time. She pulls her fingers out slowly, making you whine in protest before letting Ellie lick them clean. She spits down and rubs it all over the silicone cock, then she runs the cock up and down along your pussy, making you dizzy with need.

She finally parts your pussy lips and slides just the tip in when she’s got enough of your slick on her dick, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist, making her almost say “fuck it” and pound into you like you’re just some whore.

Ellie watches with hunger as Vi slowly fucks her cock into you. There’s less resistance with all of your juices and Vi’s own..lubricant, but she can practically tell your pussy clamping down on the cock. She realizes just how long she has been sitting in complete awe and leans down to wrap her lips around one of your nipples, making you moan even louder and tangle your fingers into Ellie’s hair.

Getting fucked feels so dirty, and yet so, so good. You’ve got Vi pounding into you now, the ridges of the cock slamming into your spongey walls right where you need it. You’ve got Ellie’s eager tongue flicking against your nipples, taking turns with each while her hand is between you and Vi’s bodies, rubbing tight circles onto your clit.

Your eyes want to just close and feel what these girls are giving you, but you can’t. The sight is so embarrassing for you to watch, but it makes it all the more better to just watch Vi groan as she thrusts into you, and watch as Ellie softly bites your tits.

“Baby’s getting close, hm?” Vi teases, making you involuntarily clench on her cock, only hastening your upcoming orgasm. Ellie’s mouth leaves your nipple, much to your disappointment, to whisper into your ear.

“Cum for us.” Her words are so vulgar, but the soft pecks she plants on your neck is what really sends you over.

You cry out their names like you’re worshipping them, frantically grasping onto Ellie’s hair and tugging at it to keep her mouth all over you, her tongue on your throat, and Vi is saying the most filthy things you’ve ever heard her say as your orgasm crashes through you like waves.

“Fuckkk, swear I can feel your pretty little cunt milk me.”

“There you go, good girl..just cum for me and Ellie.”

When you finally come down from your high, Vi slows down and Ellie’s mouth leaves your neck to plant a few soft kisses on your lips, her fingers leaving your clit to squeeze your hand.

You’re all blissed out, cute little stockings still adorned, and panting with closed eyes.

You just know you’re gonna get the best aftercare.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

in honor of unburied season 2 coming out today (lmao) you got any expectations or predictions ? or just dread?

wow I fully forgot that was today, here's a prediction bingo I slapped together in five minutes after I read this ask

my handwriting is mmm a little rough, to say the least, so here's a clean copy

row one:

Morena Baccarin's character is actually Talia

the final scene is some homoerotic Bruharvey shit

zero resolution re: Flass stabbing Jim Gordon

flashback to Harvey's abusive dad

zero acknowledgment of anything that happened in Secrets in the Dark (other than Flass being dead)

row two:

No Man's Land but someone is trying to make it happen on purpose

the Riddler's absence is somehow explained

recast Thomas Wayne (RIP Lance Reddick)

some manner of allusion to any iteration of Robin

Bruce attends a ✨gala✨ or other big fancy rich guy party

row three:

yet another three villain nesting doll

a little something for the Jimbats perverts (me)

Court of Owls free space

Babs and Jim fight about her vigilante behavior

Morena Baccarin's character is actually Selina

row four:

the Maronis and the Falcones are present

literally any scraps of Ace please for the love of god I miss him

an important politician gets murdered

the original music kind of fucks actually

shout out to an extremely minor D-list villain

row five:

Gordon already knows about Barbara's vigilante shit and he's proud of her

League of Assassins/Shadows

Riddler absence is never addressed or explained (kill yourself)

Alan Ruck's character dies

Barbara is dramatically disabled in an earthquake

I don't know when I'll get around to listening (it won't be today!!) but I will be playing along on my little bingo sheet with stickers

[bandsofmarv]

Shadows and secrets

Will you and mattheo give in to the desire?

TW - smut, angst.

The dim light of the library’s enchanted candles cast flickering shadows on the ancient stone walls. You leaned against a bookshelf, your wand clenched tightly in your hand. Across from you stood Mattheo Riddle, his dark eyes glittering with a mix of challenge and amusement. You hated that look. You hated him.

And yet, here you were, locked in detention together. Again.

“I don’t need your help,” you snapped, gesturing to the tangle of cursed chains coiled on the floor between you.

Mattheo smirked, leaning lazily against a nearby table. “Clearly. You’ve been standing there for twenty minutes and haven’t done a thing. What’s the plan, genius? Stare at it until it feels guilty?”

“Shut up, Riddle,” you hissed, kneeling down to inspect the chains. You ignored the way his chuckle sent a shiver down your spine.

“Careful,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Wouldn’t want you to get yourself killed before I have the chance to beat you in next week’s duel.”

“You wish,” you muttered, focusing on the runes etched into the metal. They pulsed faintly, whispering promises of mischief and pain. Typical Riddle handiwork. “What’s your deal anyway? Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be off brooding in some dark corner?”

Mattheo didn’t answer immediately. When you glanced up, he was watching you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “Maybe I like the company,” he said softly, the mocking edge gone from his voice.

Your heart skipped, but you forced yourself to scoff. “Oh, please. You’d drive anyone else insane.”

“Not you, though,” he said, stepping closer. His tone was still light, but there was something searching in his gaze. “You keep up. You fight back.”

“Someone has to keep your ego in check,” you muttered, standing up to face him. He was too close now, the heat of his presence unsettling but not unwelcome.

“You think you know me, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “The big bad Riddle, always scheming, always dangerous.”

You swallowed hard. “Aren’t you?”

His lips quirked into a small, almost predatory smile. “Maybe. But I’m not the only one who likes to play with fire.”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, invading your space entirely. His hand came up, brushing your wand aside and pressing it against the bookshelf behind you. The gesture was deliberate, taunting.

“What are you doing, Riddle?” you asked, your voice coming out steadier than you felt.

“Proving a point,” he said, his gaze dipping to your lips. His breath was warm against your cheek, and suddenly the cursed chains were the furthest thing from your mind.

You should have shoved him away. You should have said something sharp and biting to wipe that smug look off his face. Instead, you found yourself standing frozen, caught in the magnetic pull of his dark, stormy eyes.

“I hate you,” you whispered, though the words lacked conviction.

“Funny,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant—it was rough and desperate, a clash of teeth and tongues as he pressed you firmly against the bookshelf. You gasped into his mouth, your hands flying up to grip his shirt as his slid to your waist, pulling you closer. His lips were hot and insistent, stealing the breath from your lungs and setting your skin on fire.

“Mattheo,” you breathed when his mouth left yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His name felt foreign on your tongue, but the way he groaned in response sent a jolt of heat straight through you.

“Say that again,” he demanded, his voice rough as his teeth grazed your pulse point.

“Mattheo,” you whispered, this time softer, more vulnerable.

His hands tightened on your hips, dragging you against him as if he needed you closer than physically possible. You felt the hard press of him through his trousers, and a thrill shot through you at the realization of just how much he wanted you.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons. “This doesn’t mean I don’t still hate you,” you muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips swollen and his eyes blazing. “Good,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “Hate me all you want, Y/N. Just don’t stop.”

And then he was kissing you again, and you decided that for tonight, you could forget everything else.

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 7

Other Chapters:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I

Chapter 6

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen is getting ready to head to Austin for some time with his family, but wants to spend one last evening with Gabby. They settle in at his place, ordering takeout, and cuddling up on the couch. Then he invites Gabby to spend the night, enjoying one last evening together.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mentions of Alcohol, SMUT (Nudity, Missionary Position it's their first time...it may get more kinky later, I don't know yet. But there's nothing wrong with a little vanilla.)

A/N: So after the last chapter I've been writing this one basically non-stop. Normally I hit bumps along the way which is why it's usually 5-7 days between chapters. But I wrote this one in like two and didn't want to wait to post, so I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your thoughts with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado

The days following their first breakfast together settled into a comfortable rhythm, as though Glen and Gabby had been a part of each other’s lives for much longer than a few weeks. They fell into an easy balance of spending time together while keeping up with their individual responsibilities. Some nights were spent at Gabby’s cozy apartment, the two of them cooking simple meals side by side, the radio playing softly in the background as they laughed about Glen’s inability to chop onions without tearing up. Other nights were at Glen’s place, where they sprawled on his couch, eating takeout straight from the containers and watching movies they only half-paid attention to, too absorbed in their conversation to care about the plot.

When they weren’t together, they stayed in touch. Gabby found herself smiling at the occasional texts Glen sent throughout the day—sometimes a photo of his dog napping in a patch of sunlight, other times a joke or comment about the podcast recording he’d just finished. In return, she sent him snapshots of her coffee-fueled study sessions, complete with exaggerated captions about the “thrilling life of a student.” It wasn’t overbearing or constant, just enough to remind them both that the other was thinking of them.

Despite the ease of their time together, neither pushed to define what was happening between them. They hadn’t taken things public—Glen’s fame adding a layer of complexity neither of them was eager to rush into—but there was an unspoken understanding that, for now, they were simply enjoying the moments they had. Each interaction felt natural, like the slow unfolding of something neither of them had expected but both were beginning to treasure.

By the end of Glen’s first week off, the lines between his world and Gabby’s had started to blur in small, significant ways. It wasn’t just that his spare toothbrush had found a spot in her bathroom or that his favorite blanket had been claimed as hers during their movie nights. It was the way they talked, the way they moved around each other, the way they found themselves looking forward to the next time without ever having to say it.

The hum of Gabby’s car engine filled the silence as she pulled into her apartment parking lot, her mind still replaying the events of her busy day. She was already planning on collapsing onto the couch with a bowl of cereal when her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. Picking it up, she smiled as Glen’s name lit up the screen.

Glen: Hey, you free tonight?

The message was simple, but she could practically hear his voice in her head, that mix of charm and warmth that made her stomach flip every time. She bit her lip, typing out a quick reply.

Gabby: I think I can squeeze you into my schedule 😉

His response was almost instant.

Glen: Good, because I was hoping to steal you for the evening. Come over?

She laughed softly, the exhaustion from her day momentarily forgotten.

Gabby: What’s the occasion?

A few dots appeared on the screen as he typed.

Glen: You. Me. One last quiet night before I head to Austin. No agenda, just us.

Gabby’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in his words. It was rare for someone to make her feel this... wanted. Not in a grand, sweeping way, but in the quiet, meaningful moments that reminded her how much she liked having him in her life.

Gabby: I’m on my way.

Sliding her phone back into her bag, she took a deep breath and shifted the car back into drive. A quiet night with Glen sounded like exactly what she needed.

Gabby pulled up to Glen’s house, the low glow of the porch light illuminating the familiar front door. Her heart skipped a beat as she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and made her way up the steps. Before she could even knock, the door swung open, and Brisket came barreling toward her, tail wagging furiously.

“Hey, buddy!” Gabby crouched down, laughing as the dog nudged his head against her hands, soaking up all the attention she was more than happy to give. “Were you waiting for me, huh? Such a good boy!”

Glen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a teasing smirk on his face. “Nice to see you too, babe,” he drawled, feigning offense.

Gabby glanced up at him, still scratching behind Brisket’s ears, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” She stood up, brushing her hands off on her jeans as she stepped closer to him.

Glen chuckled, shaking his head. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Before he could say anything else, Gabby slipped her arms around his waist, tilting her head up to look at him. “Hi.”

His teasing expression softened as he leaned down, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Hi,” he murmured back, his voice warm and low.

He dipped his head, their lips meeting in a slow, unhurried kiss, the kind that made the world outside his front door disappear. Brisket let out a little huff, circling at their feet as if to remind them he was still there. Gabby pulled back slightly, smiling against Glen’s lips.

“Looks like someone’s jealous,” she whispered.

Glen glanced down at the dog, who was now pawing at Gabby’s leg, clearly not done being the center of attention. 

“Can you blame him?” Glen asked, his lips quirking into a grin.

Gabby laughed, giving Brisket one last pat before Glen stepped aside to let her in. 

“Come on,” he said, resting a hand lightly on her back as they walked into the house. “I’ve got wine chilling and takeout on the way. Thought we could keep it low-key tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” Gabby replied, feeling her shoulders relax as she slipped off her shoes.

The doorbell rang, cutting through their conversation. Brisket barked once, trotting toward the door, his tail wagging.

“That’ll be the food,” Glen said, brushing a hand against Gabby’s arm as he passed her.

He returned a moment later, balancing a stack of takeout containers in one hand while shutting the door with the other. Gabby watched as he brought the bags to the kitchen counter and began unpacking them, the familiar aroma of Thai food filling the room.

“What do I owe you?” she asked, stepping closer to the counter.

Glen glanced at her over his shoulder, his brows furrowing slightly as if the question surprised him. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Glen,” she said, folding her arms. “I mean it. I don’t want you—or me, for that matter—feeling like I’m taking advantage of you.”

He paused, turning to look at her fully. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve paid for everything so far,” she said, motioning to the takeout. “Dinner on our first date, every DoorDash order, everything. I don’t want it to seem like I’m just… letting you take care of everything.”

Glen leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as he considered her words. “You buy groceries when we cook at your place,” he pointed out.

Gabby tilted her head, giving him a skeptical look.

“What?” Glen asked, smirking now.

“I’m serious,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

His expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes softening. He stepped toward her, his hands settling lightly on her waist. 

“Gabby,” he said gently, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of her shirt. “I don’t think that at all. I wouldn’t have asked you over if I did.”

She let out a small sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly, but he wasn’t done. 

“Look,” he continued, “it’s still early, yeah. But these are our dates. I was raised that the guy is supposed to pay on the dates”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she raised a brow. “Supposed to?”

“Yup,” he said confidently, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“That’s such an old school thing.” She rolled her eyes, earning a low chuckle from him.

“Wait a second,” he said, his tone teasing as he tilted his head at her. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Gabby met his gaze, challenging. “What if I did?”

His grin widened, and without another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck. She gasped softly as his warm breath ghosted against her skin, his voice low as he murmured, “Then I might have to make you take it back.”

Her laugh turned into a quiet hum as his kisses deepened, his hands sliding to her lower back to pull her closer. She threaded her fingers into his hair, and before she could think, Glen’s hands lifted her onto the counter.

Glen’s lips moved against hers with a growing urgency, his hands steady on her hips as he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. Gabby’s fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly as her breath hitched.

“Glen,” she managed between kisses, her voice soft and a little breathless.

“Hmm?” he hummed against her lips, his hands trailing to her thighs.

“The food,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, though her hands didn’t leave his hair.

“What about it?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting against hers as his hands tightened their hold on her.

“It’s going to get cold,” she pointed out, her tone half-hearted, as though she wasn’t entirely convinced it mattered.

Glen grinned, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth as he whispered, “I’m hungry for something else.”

Her laugh was soft and breathy, and she gave him a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. “Glen,” she said again, her tone firmer this time, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

He groaned dramatically, letting his forehead drop to her shoulder as he sighed. 

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to help her slide off the counter. “We can eat.”

Gabby smirked, smoothing her shirt as she stepped back toward the counter, her cheeks still flushed. “Thank you for your sacrifice.”

He shot her a playful glare as he grabbed the takeout containers, setting them on the counter with a bit more flair than necessary. 

“But just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone serious even as his lips quirked into a grin, “I’m coming back for dessert later.”

She didn’t respond, but the warmth in her smile and the quick glance she gave him said enough.

As they settled at the counter with their takeout containers spread out between them, the casual clinking of chopsticks and soft rustle of food filled the air. Glen cracked open the lid of his container and took a sniff. "Okay, this might be the best-smelling food I’ve ever had," he said, grabbing a generous bite.

Gabby raised an eyebrow as she poked at her dumplings. “You said that about the tacos we had last night.”

“Yeah, but this time I mean it,” he shot back, his mouth full enough to make her wrinkle her nose.

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment before Glen leaned his chin on his hand, watching her. “So, what’s your guilty pleasure food?”

Gabby paused mid-bite, considering. “Hmm. Probably mac and cheese. But like, the boxed kind. The neon orange powder stuff. None of that fancy baked nonsense.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I knew you were secretly a five-year-old.”

She gave him a mock glare. “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve had it Mr. Won’t Eat Cheese. What about you?”

“Easy,” he said, without hesitation. “Pop-Tarts. Strawberry. No frosting.”

“No frosting?” she exclaimed, looking genuinely horrified. “What kind of monster eats Pop-Tarts without frosting?”

“This kind,” he said proudly, tapping his chest. “They’re better that way.”

“You’re objectively wrong,” she declared, shaking her head in mock disbelief.

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” He shrugged, reaching for another bite of pad Thai.

“Or,” she countered, narrowing her eyes, “you’ll have to come over for breakfast sometime and let me prove you wrong.”

His brows lifted in interest. “You’re challenging me to a Pop-Tart showdown?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a confident nod. “Frosted strawberry will change your life.”

Glen laughed, the kind of laugh that felt easy and genuine. “Alright, deal. But don’t cry when you realize you’ve been living a lie.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, smirking. “We’ll see about that.”

The conversation drifted as they kept eating, dipping into lighter topics like movies they loved and places they wanted to visit someday. There was a warmth between them, the kind that made the night feel effortless, as though they’d been doing this for years rather than weeks.

When Gabby reached for the last dumpling, Glen swooped in with his chopsticks, snatching it right before she could.

“Hey!” she protested, staring at him in mock betrayal.

He grinned as he popped it into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. “You snooze, you lose.”

“You’re the worst,” she said, though her smile betrayed her.

“And yet, here you are,” he replied, leaning back in his seat with a triumphant grin.

After dinner, Gabby stood and started gathering up the empty containers, stacking them neatly as Glen leaned back against the counter, watching her with a satisfied smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s no big deal,” she replied, waving him off as she carried the trash over to the bin. “You bought dinner, and wouldn’t let me pay for at least my share. So the least I can do is help clean up.”

She noticed a couple of dishes in the sink—a stray coffee mug and a plate from earlier in the day. Without hesitation, she rolled up her sleeves and started rinsing them off.

“Gabby,” Glen said, his tone warning, as he moved to stand behind her. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” she answered simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“This is my house,” he reminded her, stepping closer. “And my rules clearly state: no guests do chores.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so?”

“It is.” His voice held a playful firmness, but Gabby wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Well,” she said, turning back to the dishes and continuing to rinse, “I’m not a guest, technically. I’m more of a—what’s the term? Frequent flyer? That means the rule doesn’t apply to me.”

“Frequent flyer?” he repeated, amused. “You’re really stretching here, babe.”

“Call it what you want,” she quipped, reaching for the dish soap. “But I’m finishing these.”

Glen moved quickly, stepping close enough that she could feel the warmth of him at her back. She turned, ready to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. His brow lifted, silently telling her to drop it.

“Glen—”

Before she could say another word, he cupped her face and kissed her. It wasn’t rushed or heated, but slow and deliberate, his lips brushing hers just enough to make her heart stutter. He pulled back just slightly, their foreheads nearly touching.

“Let me do it,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing.

Gabby blinked up at him, momentarily disarmed. “You’re using kissing to get your way now?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a small smirk. “Is it working?”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “Fine. But only because you’re stubborn.”

“Stubborn and charming,” he corrected, taking the sponge from her hand and tossing it into the sink. “Now, go relax while I handle this.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, stepping aside.

“True,” he called over his shoulder as he began cleaning up the counter. “But you like me anyway.”

Gabby laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against the kitchen island. Watching Glen hum softly while he tidied up, she couldn’t help but think that, yes, she liked him—a little more than she cared to admit.

The evening slowly shifted into that quiet, comfortable lull that comes when two people are perfectly content in each other's company. Gabby was perched on the couch, her legs curled beneath her as she absently scrolled through a playlist on her phone, and Glen was sitting next to her, leaning back against the cushions with his arm draped casually along the backrest.

As the last song of her playlist faded, Glen glanced over at her, his hazel eyes warm but hesitant. “Hey,” he said softly, his tone different now—gentler, more deliberate.

Gabby turned to him, her head tilting slightly. “Yeah?”

His hand reached for hers, threading their fingers together as he gave a small smile. “Do you, uh… want to stay the night?”

Her heart gave a quick, surprised flutter. They’d spent plenty of time together over the last week, but this felt different—more significant, somehow.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Glen gave her hand a soft squeeze and nodded, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his usual confidence. “Yeah. I want you here, with me.”

Gabby’s lips curved into a small smile as she nodded. “Okay,” she said simply.

He smiled back, relief flickering across his face, and stood, tugging her gently to her feet. 

“Come on,” he said, his voice dipping lower as he led her toward his bedroom.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifted. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast warm, golden light across the room, making it feel cozy and intimate. Glen turned to face her, his hands resting lightly on her hips as she looked up at him, her breath catching.

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss that quickly deepened. Gabby’s hands slid up to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pulled her closer. The world outside seemed to fade as they got lost in each other, their movements slow and deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world.

Glen’s hands skimmed her sides, his touch firm but careful, and when he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression was tender. His lips found hers again, and this time there was no hesitation. The kiss turned hungrier, more urgent, as they backed toward the bed. Glen’s hands moved to the hem of her top, and when she nodded her silent permission, he carefully lifted it over her head and tossed it aside.

She mirrored his movements, her hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt until he pulled it off and let it drop to the floor. For a moment, they paused, their eyes locking as if to silently check in with each other.

“This all okay?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Gabby nodded again, a small, nervous laugh escaping her. Glen reached for her hand again, intertwining their fingers as he guided her gently toward the bed. The quiet confidence in his movements steadied the fluttering nerves that Gabby felt bubbling just beneath the surface. As the backs of her knees brushed the edge of the mattress, Glen paused, looking down at her as if he was committing every detail to memory—the soft curve of her lips, the way her hair framed her face, the trust in her eyes.

Still holding her hand, he leaned down, brushing his lips across hers in a kiss so gentle it sent shivers down her spine. She let out a soft sigh, her free hand moving instinctively to rest against his chest, her fingertips grazing the warmth of his skin.

Glen smiled against her lips, the corners of his mouth curving in that way that always made her heart skip. "You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his voice quiet but heavy with sincerity.

Gabby felt her cheeks flush, and she ducked her head slightly, unable to hide the small, bashful smile that tugged at her lips. “You’re just saying that,” she whispered.

He tipped her chin back up with a single finger, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m not,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Before she could reply, his lips captured hers again, this time with more urgency. As the kiss deepened, Glen’s hands found her waist, and he guided her back onto the bed, following her down until they were both lying against the soft comforter.

Gabby’s heart raced as Glen hovered above her, his weight supported by his arms on either side of her. His gaze swept over her, equal parts admiration and restraint, as if he wanted to take his time but was finding it harder with every passing second.

“You sure about this?” he asked softly, his voice low and almost reverent.

Her answer was immediate, her hands sliding up to cradle his face. “I’m sure,” she whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Glen’s lips moved from hers, tracing a slow, deliberate path along her jaw and down the curve of her neck. Gabby’s breath hitched as he lingered at the sensitive spot just below her ear, his warm breath sending a wave of goosebumps across her skin.

Her hands roamed over his back, exploring the planes of muscle there as he continued to press soft, heated kisses along her collarbone. When his lips found their way back to hers, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

As the kiss deepened, Glen’s hands began to move with quiet certainty, his fingers brushing over the waistband of her jeans. Gabby’s breath caught in her throat as she felt his gentle tug, pulling the fabric down over her hips. She hesitated for a brief second, her stomach tightening with a sudden, unfamiliar feeling.

The jeans were gone in seconds, but as he moved to remove her shirt, Gabby instinctively covered herself with her hands, suddenly aware of every inch of exposed skin. She felt a flush creep across her chest, her breath shallow as she avoided his gaze for just a moment.

Glen paused, noticing the shift in her energy. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, the tenderness in his gaze giving her an almost overwhelming sense of comfort.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hands still resting on her waist, the warmth of his touch grounding her.

Gabby shook her head quickly, trying to brush it off. “Nothing,” she said, offering him a half-smile. “Just… I don’t know. I’m fine.”

But Glen didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed in concern as he searched her eyes, sensing the unease she was trying to hide. His fingers gently cupped her face, urging her to meet his gaze.

“Gabs, hey,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “Talk to me.”

She sighed, her body tensing under the weight of her vulnerability. She was used to being comfortable with Glen, but now–she felt exposed. And it terrified her.

“I just... I don’t know,” she said, her voice trailing off as she gestured at herself. “I’m not exactly—” She cut herself off, the insecurity creeping in again.

Glen’s eyes softened, and his expression changed to one of pure understanding. He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands trailing down her arms, coaxing her to relax. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Gabby opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips.

“No,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “You are. And I’m not just saying that or because I’m your boyfriend or whatever else you were about to say.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his words, but she still felt that twinge of insecurity, the nagging thought that she didn’t look like the women in magazines or the ones she imagined he’d been with before.

But before she could say anything more, Glen lowered himself beside her, his lips finding the sensitive skin just below her ear. His kisses were slow, soft, and deliberate, each one trailing down her neck, over her collarbone, and slowly, carefully, down her chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with admiration. His lips moved lower, brushing across her stomach, and Gabby let out a shaky breath, her body shuddering with each kiss. “Every inch of you is beautiful,” he whispered against her skin.

Gabby closed her eyes, the warmth of his kisses and the sincerity in his words slowly melting away her insecurities. She felt his hands roam along her body, exploring her with such reverence that it felt like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. His lips, soft but insistent, found their way back to hers, kissing her.

Glen pulled away just slightly, his eyes meeting hers again. “You’re perfect, Gabby,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And you don’t need to be anything but yourself for me.”

Gabby’s chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat. The vulnerability, the raw honesty between them, made her heart swell in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She reached for him, pulling him back down into a kiss, letting her hands wander over his back, feeling the heat of his skin, grounding herself in the reality of this moment.

It was slow and tender, the kind of kiss that felt like more than just passion—it was a promise. A promise that, despite her insecurities, she was worthy of this, of him.

Glen’s hands were steady as he slowly slid her underwear down her legs, his gaze never leaving hers. She inhaled sharply, the tension between them thickening, her heart beating faster. When she was completely exposed to him, she couldn’t help but glance down, her eyes tracing the line of his body as he undressed. The sight of him—completely bare—made her pulse quicken.

Once he was bare before her, he leaned down, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. He crawled back onto the bed, his body brushing against hers as he kissed her again, slow and deliberate, his lips trailing over hers in a heated, tender kiss. Gabby’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the weight of him, all of him, pressing closer, and yet there was an undeniable gentleness in the way he kissed her.

He slid his hand up to her face, cupping it softly as their lips moved together. She kissed him back with an intensity of her own, her hands running up and down his back, feeling every inch of the muscles she had admired from a distance. She couldn’t help but smile against his lips, that nagging insecurity from earlier slowly melting away with every kiss, every touch, every second they spent together.

Glen pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers. He was breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling as he smiled softly at her. “You good?” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Gabby nodded, her hands sliding down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her fingertips. “I’m good,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. And for the first time in a while, she truly felt it—good, real, safe.

Glen pulled away just slightly, his hand moving to the nightstand. Gabby watched him curiously, but then understood when she saw the small box in his hand. He looked at her for a moment, his expression soft but serious.

Gabby nodded. Glen carefully opened the box and retrieved a condom, a quiet moment of practicality amidst the heat of the moment. He gave her a reassuring smile as he slid it on.

"Still sure about this?" he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. Gabby nodded, feeling more at ease now that she knew they were both on the same page.

"Yeah," she murmured, smiling up at him, appreciating the care he’d shown. "I’m sure."

As Glen positioned himself above her, he moved slowly, giving her time to adjust. When he finally slid into her, both of them paused.

Gabby’s breath hitched as she felt the initial stretch, a slight discomfort making her eyes flutter shut. She’d imagined this moment, but the reality was different—more intimate, more overwhelming. She could feel herself tense, it having been a while since she’d been with anyone.

But then, Glen’s hands found her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he murmured against her ear, “You’re doing great. Just breathe, babe. I’ll go slow.”

His words grounded her, bringing her focus back to him. His presence was calm and steady, and the tenderness in his gaze told her everything she needed to know. Slowly, the discomfort eased, and Gabby let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Glen’s hands moved to her waist, helping her adjust as he began to move, slowly at first, giving her the space she needed. Every inch of him was careful, focused on her, his eyes locked on hers as if he were waiting for any sign that she needed a break. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

Gabby’s breath was shallow, but with each movement, the discomfort slowly faded, replaced by something deeper, something more intense. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, her hands gripping his back as she began to meet his movements, urging him on.

Glen kissed her forehead, his lips soft against her skin, whispering more reassurances as they moved together. His voice was hoarse with the effort of holding back, his movements becoming more urgent but still patient, still focused on making sure she was okay.

Gabby, feeling the heat building between them, nodded, her body responding to his in a way that made her forget about the earlier discomfort. 

“I’m okay now. You can go faster,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible, but it was enough.

Glen’s pace quickened then, his movements more desperate. As the tension built, Gabby found herself spiraling, lost in the sensation, and with one final whisper of his name, she reached the peak, her body trembling beneath him.

He followed soon after, his name leaving her lips in a breathless moan as they both rode out their highs together.

After Glen collapsed beside her, pulling her close as they both tried to catch their breath, their bodies tangled together beneath the soft covers. Gabby nestled into his chest, her head resting against his shoulder, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

But the silence was comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

“You okay?” Glen finally asked his hand tracing patterns along her back.

Gabby smiled, a soft, contented sigh escaping her lips. 

“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth and trust.

After the shared silence of their embrace, Glen gently pressed a kiss to Gabby’s forehead before slipping out of bed. His movements were slow, and careful, as if not wanting to disturb the peace between them. 

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and she nodded, her eyes closing as she listened to the soft sounds of him moving around the room.

When he returned, he held a t-shirt in his hand, the soft fabric looking a little worn, the familiar scent of him still lingering on it. 

“Here,” he said, offering it to her with a warm smile. “Figured you might want something to wear.”

Gabby glanced up at him, still feeling the warmth from their shared moment. She took the shirt from him, fingers brushing against his as she did. “Thanks,” she murmured softly, feeling a little shy now that the raw intensity of the moment had passed.

She slid off the bed and moved toward the bathroom, using the restroom and freshening up before returning to him. When she came back, she saw Glen had pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and was now laying on the bed.

Gabby put on her underwear and then slipped into the oversized shirt Glen had given her, the cotton fabric falling just past her thighs.

She crawled back into bed, settling next to him, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath her. Glen shifted, making space for her, then wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. His touch was light, almost protective as if wanting to ensure she felt safe and cherished.

Gabby snuggled into his chest, the warmth of his body lulling her into a sense of peace. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this comfortable with someone. The vulnerability they’d shared earlier still lingered between them, but now it was wrapped in the softness of intimacy, trust, and care.

“You okay?” Glen asked quietly, his voice soft and steady as his fingers gently traced circles on her back.

Gabby looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with a smile that reached her eyes. “Yeah,” she said, her voice low but filled with contentment. “I’m really good, Glen. Thanks for… everything.”

He smiled down at her, his eyes soft with affection. “Anytime,” he murmured, kissing her forehead gently.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound between them the gentle rhythm of their breathing, the quiet peace that came from being close to someone who truly cared. Gabby closed her eyes, letting the weight of the moment wash over her, feeling safe, seen, and, for the first time in a long time, completely at ease.

Glen didn’t say anything more, but his hand gently stroked her hair, a tender gesture that spoke louder than any words could. And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she couldn’t help but think that this—this was exactly what she needed, what she had been longing for without even knowing it.

[yvoi]

shameless plug for my unvale account, highly highly recommend checking it out if you're looking for a way to store ocs that isn't as coding heavy as toyhouse!! ive been having an awesome time storing art and writing of my ocs and it lets you add lists of traits and trivia as well. no joke im obsessed with this website it lets you add playlists and sort them into different worlds wtf wtf unvale my beloved

[deoidesign]

Portrait of a vampire

Photo of a werewolf (who doesn't trust cameras)

As a treat I like to paint my characters realistically from time to time... so I can see them...

Webcomic

[passionatememes]

extremely niche post but do you guys think daniil dankovsky and harrowhark nonagesimus would be friends or would they fucking hate each other

[leafith]

So uhm, for space problems I had to delete Sky but I'm still in the fandom and I still love it ;-; hopefully one day I'll be able to find a better device and to play again in the shape of a newbie. Hopefully no veteran will "hate" me for being new like old people do with young people (like "Back to our days we players didn't have a home").

[deadsecurity]

I really liked the first 2 seasons of Dr Stone - it wasn’t what I was expecting and it didn’t go as far as I would have liked with some aspects but it’s a fun show with cute characters. In terms of fandom I was kind of hoping for more digging into a slightly more emotionally deep/realistic look at how the events of the first season might affect the characters, or more in depth elaboration on Senku’s character tho :0

I do think sengen and senkasa(?) are fun ships & I also like aroace Senku but I need MORE I need more MEAT on these bones.

Senuk was alone and awake in the stone world for 6 months - not to even get into being partially conscious in complete sensory deprivation for 3700 years - and I want to GET INTO how that would affect him and how the hell he survived and how he kept it together because that would mess with anyones head. I want them to worry about dying from exposure and infection and care for each other through that. I want the old world humans to talk about the things they miss and their fears about living without modern technology and losing the people they love even if it’s temporary. AND THAT SENKU LOSING HIS DAD IS PERMANENT UNLIKE EVERYONE ELSE. I want to pick out the emotional and the survival aspects of the show and push them further!!!! That’s what I really like about fandoms for these kinds of shows n I feel like I’m just not seeing it :( Also I know that part of Senku’s character is that he acts detached, but it is an act, and I want to explore why he acts that way and what’s under that act. )

This is not a criticism of the fandom or other fans btw it’s just my onion 🧅 I like the fandom, I’m just kind of interested in different aspects than most people seem to be.

[pathologising]

me knowing my annoying ass neighbors' untrained dog can't come up to my window and bark violently at our heads at 7 in the morning because my landlord put up a nice big fence to stop them

[blocksruinedme]

Jimmy may have a bad memory but he is a CLEVER and hardworking boy

who pays very close attention to how other youtubers do things, and takes notes, and works so hard, and now he has 810k subscribers because he knows how to do it.

(well, sometimes clever and always hardworking)

context:

If anyone wants my spreadsheet just lmk. my data mostly came from the youtube wiki and MaxData's visualization of new life smp members' subs numbers. oh, i'll include that!

Jimmy was at 609k when new life started in may 27. he made a (lovely!) pink house.

Twenty one days later he's gained 201,000 subs.

Between cpk and pix now probably, having jumped ahead of oli & pearl.

Y'all when people talk about jimmy being dumb, watch and think how much is an atrocious memory, and how long is not being quick to understand things. If he settles in and works at it! If he's in a group event in mcc and not individual! If he has a strong team captain in mcc who he can listen to! (he's said the last one is how he succeeds).

Jimmy can fucking do it, just in his own way - and he doesn't care to put a lot of effort into learning some things that some viewers want. As I barely care about minecraft, I do have an interesting perspective here! <3

Jimmy can't just get by on his minecraft skills plus his winning smile, comedic timing, charisma, and skill at social rapport and interpersonal... okay I've made it sound like a lot but he has some brains. Those brains just don't know the recipe for... things I also don't care about.

Jimmy Solidarity. You appreciate him. Good.

[fallen-goldfishcracker]

confession time. sometimes in moments of weakness i begin to feel morally superior to other bg3 fans because i don't obsess over The Vampire™, and then i see any good fanart of him and, swooning, remember i am just as much a debauched degenerate for this man as everyone else.