#sometimes you just get going and then you can't stop.

[reignpage]

You've Ghost To Be Kidding

Synopsis: in which you move into a haunted house and are seduced by ghost!sukuna Warning: 18+, porn with little plot, cursing, dubcon?, kinda horror but not scary at all, lots of cunnilingus, fingering, groping and molesting, nipple play, tentacles, full nelson, improper use of a broom, exhibitionism, voyeurism, foot play, blowjob, masturbation, a little somnophilia, monster-fúcking, kinda threesome? ig, classic dumb girl in horror movie with no survival instincts, not proofread Word Count: 2.7k

There’s a ghost in your home. 

You’ve just moved in last week and already you can tell there’s someone else here with you. Things move on their own even though you don’t see them move. You place a book down on a table and you’ll come back to it on the floor. Lights turn on and off on their own. Sometimes they even flicker incessantly for an hour or two, or until you get fed up and leave the room. At night, you hear scratching against the door, things literally going bump and thump, followed by heavy footsteps.

They’re all petty stuff, which is why you can stomach the irritation considering the rent is dirt-cheap. At most, you'll simply roll your eyes whenever the ghost acts up which apparently pisses it off more.

What’s been bothering you most, however, is the fact that the ghost is apparently very fucking horny. 

He — and yes, you know it’s a he because only a man could be so annoying and pathetic — gropes you randomly during the day. You’ll be washing up some dishes, minding your own business as one does, when suddenly, you’ll feel big, cold hands on your hips groping the flesh there. Worse, you can even feel a nose skim the length of your neck, inhaling your scent, and the ghost’ll blow air at your skin as if he’d exhaled in deep satisfaction.

Even when you're just watching TV, sat on the sofa, you'll feel a ghoulish grasp on your ankles, pulling your legs until your feet are held in the air. Something cold, long and hard presses itself against the pads of your feet, rubbing along. Popping popcorn in your mouth, you yawn as the sofa creaks, cold liquid beginning to coat your toes. You don't know for sure what he's doing but you have an idea.

Showering is also another story. Bare and wet, you massage shampoo into your scalp, humming to a song on your phone when it begins to glitch, making record scratching sounds. Your Lizzo song is replaced with heavy breathing and mumblings that oddly resemble the word, 'mine,' on repeat. Big, foreboding hands creep into the tresses of your hair, covering your own. They push and pull, applying pressure around your scalp, really working in your shampoo. With a sigh, you let him do the work for you.

After all, your arms were getting tired. So it seems like a fair exchange for him to grind that, by now, familiar length in between the globes of your ass, nudging you against the wall, threatening to drown you under the barrage of water.

Truthfully, you once considered hiring an exorcist or a priest or something. But once he stopped being so hostile against you and you found a freakish routine with him, the idea flew out the window. Who else would know to open a cabinet with all the bowls for you right after you've picked up the milk from the fridge, so you can eat cereal?

This ghost has been pretty helpful in finding your lost items too. Whether they be your phone, keys, socks, the remote etc. Though, you suspect sometimes he hides those things on purpose so that you'll acknowledge his presence with a, 'Hey dead guy, know where my shit is?'

Sure, your pool of panties is depleting with his clear hatred of them, ripping them up and tossing them in the trash for you to find later, and you can't really invite anyone home since they wouldn't understand. But you can put up with his wandering hands and constant hard-ons if it means you have a nice, pretty house to live in.

Even if everything you do seems to turn him on. Whether that's singing along to a song (a body will press itself behind you, swaying you to the beat and grinding something hard against your back), brushing the floor (the broomstick will find it's way between your legs, the length slotting itself right in between your pussy lips as it shuffles back and forth, eliciting moans after moans from you, covering the wood with slick), or cooking a meal (the sauce you're heating up will wind up on your chest, cool and trickling down the valley your breasts, just about to disappear beneath your low v-neck shirt before something wet and slithering wipes it away, leaving goosebumps in its wake).

And God, apparently dental hygiene turns the damn thing on too. Brushing your teeth, in the morning or night, always involves your breasts being groped. Seriously. Breasts. Groped. 

You feel those same cold hands first cup your tits over the shirt, just feeling the heaviness, weighing them in his palms before you feel fingers flicking your nipples. The friction is repulsive. Really. It makes you roll your eyes. In annoyance, of course. 

“F-fuck off!”

Then, when you’re clutching the sink, he slides his hands under your shirt, nails scratching your skin before you feel its chilling grip on your breasts. That’s when he really gets to work — he doesn’t go gently, no, he’s tugging at your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingertips as if to torture you. So outraged, you’re left gasping for air, unable to string along words to express how disgusting his touch felt. 

“Don’t even ask me h-how I know you’re smirking. Dick.”

In response, all the bottles on the bathtub fall to a clatter on the porcelain.  

You can’t even masturbate in peace because though the door's closed you know he knows what you’re doing. That door will open, slowly creaking, and a gust of wind will blow over you, announcing his presence. There, under the covers, your fingers are working overtime, rubbing furiously at your clit as you stare at that open door. 

“Seriously? You won’t even let me have this?”

Pussy tingling, you writhe on the bed, spurned on by the knowledge that eyes are watching your face. Deadly quiet, the sloshing sound between your legs echo in the room, mocking and scathing.

When your hand cramps up, you reach over to your bedside table for your vibrator. Pressing the cold silicone to your steamy pussy, you get a moment of reprieve before the battery somehow runs out. 

“Oh my God, you did not. Ugh, you are such a dick. You died and now you gotta make me miserable?” You throw the damn thing to the corner of the room in frustration. 

Just as you’re about to give up, the cover is pulled away and you’re bared to the world. Your legs are spread by an invisible force before something warm touches your lips, tasting your abundant juices before it laps all of you up eagerly. “Oh fuck! A-are you eating me out?”

He’s annoyingly skilled at this. The tip of his tongue rubs tight circles around your throbbing clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl. Squelches resound in the room, getting louder when you feel, what can only be, fingers thrust into you with no warning. 

“Oh, God! Yes, right there, yesss.” He’s found your G-spot and he’s going to town on it, angling his fingers just right. 

Another hand pushes down on your lower stomach at the exact same time his lips wrap around your clit and suuuuuuuuuuuuck. You’re thrashing on the bed, pinned down by that invisible force like all your limbs suddenly weigh a ton. The noises he’s making and pulling out of you are obscene and anyone who hears would think another ghost is being added to the house. 

“Since your tongue’s going -ngh!- inside me, s-shouldn’t you tell me your name?”

The light flicks on and on the mirror across the room, your lipstick is writing the letters S U K U N A on it. 

“Sukuna, huh? Well, Sukuna. Since the afterlife is clearly lacking any kind of fun, make yourself useful and give me an orgasm.”

And so he does. 

He does every time after that actually. 

Sitting in your armchair, reading a book, legs spread and panties dangling from an ankle, he eats you out for hours. Good thing about ghosts is that they have nothing else to do, so you bet your cheap ass that he won’t be getting tired any time soon. 

In fact, he loves to eat you out. When you’re washing the dishes, he’ll be eating you out from behind, suckling on your wetness like it could bring him back to life. Hanging up the laundry in the garden will leave a man-sized lump under your dress as you desperately muffle your moans with a bedsheet, embarrassed that a neighbour might see. He wakes you up by eating you out, he sees you off to your job with a fingering and then a cleaning up of the mess with his tongue, and he welcomes you back home with an orgasm, body slumped against the front door, held up like a puppet as he tongues your insides, nipples teased by tendrils of something beyond the reach of your humanly sight.

That becomes your new routine. It seems this Sukuna has grown bolder, fearless and uncaring of what's convenient for you.

One night, however, as you’re spreading your legs naturally, you don’t feel the usual pressure there. Instead, you feel something wet, hard and salty at your lips. Devious bastard. 

Opening your mouth, you let him inch his length into your throat with surprising care. Full and stretched to your limits, you gag around his invisible cock, forced to accept the entirety of the thing entering and retreating over and over again. His balls smack against your chin as he increases his pace, growing more ruthless with the way he’s shoving his fat cock inside your mouth. 

You’re being used like a glory hole and he doesn’t seem like a minute man. Despite never having been the kind of girl who enjoyed giving blowjobs, you find this one surprisingly stimulating — it presses against a sensitive spot at the back of your throat, a sweet scent of death filling your nostrils as you gag around something firm and unyielding.

Over your shirt, you feel nails scratch against your nipples, flicking them the way that leaves your thighs squeezed shut, searching for friction where you're most sensitive.

Then, your vibrator miraculously comes back to life, buzzing with vigour right against your pussy. Squelches are joining the sounds of your gagging and you didn’t even know you were so wet already. It’s on the highest setting, driving you to overstimulation immediately and with cement for bones, you can’t move away from the onslaught of vibrations against your dripping cunt. 

Gagging even more, tears well up when you cum, squirting all over your bed just as he squirts cold, salty cum down your throat. 

You fall asleep thoroughly drenched. 

The next day, all the cabinets and doors are banging open and shut repeatedly. He’s throwing a tantrum. Great. He heard your phone call in the morning.

“Get over it, freak! I can’t keep relying on you for orgasms. So don’t get in the way of me and this guy,” you scream in your bedroom. You’re aware you look crazy but you don’t care. Enough is enough. 

The mirror shatters in front of you. 

“Yes, I will let him in. You can’t do anything about it. Just go to the light or something.”

A stuffed toy hits you on the head. 

“Oh my God! You did not. Ugh, whatever, watch me get fucked then, I don’t care. But keep your hands to yourself.”

Your guest doesn’t make it three minutes before he’s being scared shitless by the banging of cabinets, the opening and closing of drawers, the shaking of tables and shattering of glass cups. He’s running to the door before you grab him by his hand desperately. You almost convince him to move your two-person party to his house when a knife flies through the air and lands right in between you two, embedding itself into the wall. 

That’s the last straw. 

Just as he wanted, you’re left alone with the happy malevolent spirit. How do you know he’s happy?

Well, because suddenly the house is righting itself — cabinets and drawers are now closed, there’s no more shaking, glass shards are picking themselves back up, repairing all your broken cups. “Pretty pleased with yourself now, aren’t you? You are such a child, I can’t stand you.”

Not to mention, your dress is being lifted up and your panties ripped apart. 

He shoves his face in between your legs once more, tonguing your clit and massaging your pussy walls with his long fingers. This is his way of apologising, you guess, and whatever, you just have to accept your fate. Long tendrils wrap around your arms, lifting them up so you can grip something. Those very same vine-like phantoms tease at your nipples too, squeezing and pulling like his fingers would. Then you feel them seem to open up like little mouths before they suck on your nipples. Hard. There, standing in the crime scene, you cum. Heaving and lightened, you think it’d end there. 

It seems seeing that other man really pushed him because then you’re being spun around and shoved to the hardwood floor, dress folded over your back and drooling pussy exposed to the air. Something hard rubs against your most intimate area, coating itself in your wetness before it shoves itself, in one go, inside your pussy. 

“Fuck! G-go slow! Oh. My. God. Su. Ku. Na!”

His rhythm is monstrous. You’re practically screaming as he pummels your pussy with no consideration for the fact that your knees are being bruised and that your face is smushed against the dirty floor. 

Your gooey walls are being forced to stretch, lips all swollen and weeping. He’s planted so deep you can feel him in your throat, and then an arm is wrapping around your neck — he’s got you in a headlock, wrangling you back into a painful arch. From this angle, he goes in deeper. 

Another long, hard thing pushes inside your mouth and you don't know how any of this works but you swallow it down, allowing him to plug you up from both ends. They work in tandem, stretching your holes with a brutal pace.

The cock in your mouth cums first and you know, somehow, it's because he just wanted to coat your face in his ghoulish cum. Drenched, you can do nothing but take his intense pummelling with gratitude.

"Full! I feel so — yesss, right there — full."

There’s a noticeable bump on your lower stomach, years of pent up energy as a ghost being rammed into your poor cunt. Glop glop glop he goes through your juices which overflow, soaking your thighs. “Fuck, yessss.”

Watery slurps are emanating from your pussy where you’re gaping around nothing to the human eye. Sukuna gyrates his hips, heavy balls teasing your clit from the delicious angle, cock throbbing inside. 

“I’m c-close! More. I want more. Fuck me faster!”

And does he ever. 

Garbling out gibberish, you’re practically choking on your own saliva as he suffocates you with his arm.

When you cum, your vision blacks out and you fall limp, thoroughly exhausted and almost dead. But even then, he still continues to fuck you, using your body as a fleshlight, basking in your living warmth. As if your soul has separated from your body, you're aware of the thorough fucking your poor body is receiving, splashes of cum flooding the floor. Even unconscious, orgasms are being snatched from you.

Later, when you wake up, you’re in bed, tucked in with a ghostly tongue lapping up your mixed cum.

Pushing the cover off, you’re shocked to find a face and a body, firm and warm to the touch. He’s got pink hair, a muscular body and tattoos. There's nothing ghostly about the man between your legs. You can feel the blood coursing through his veins, can see the sharpness of his teeth as he flashes his pearly whites in threat, and the fingers that dig into the plush of your thighs are bruising.

Regretting not getting a priest involved after all, you gasp when you hear his voice, clear and loud, deep and powerful.

He says,

“You sleep like the dead.” 

[sevsgiirl]

Omg okay I can't stop thinking about needy lovesick Sevika with a younger femme partner (you can totally do a continuation of the fic you wrote) so what if, she's a little needy&insecure for their age gap? That her girl gets bored/annoyed with her? (She doesn't have this type of thoughts all the time, but the seeds of doubts grows when she hears other people talk, not directly about her and reader, but in general but it does linger when others points out how different they are) or in her own way, she start craving more compliments, affections from her but dunno how to do it and at the same time she's trying to gauce if her girl still likes her (she does!!) yet just the thoughts/doubts hurts Sevika like so bad, because she would do anything for her darling, what she has to do to make her girl still love her and not leave her?

— sevika with a younger partner and feeling insecure

synopsis: sevika doesn’t have a type. whether they’re older or younger, just as long as they could keep up with her that’s all mattered. but ever since you two started dating, she starts to wonder if she’s the one who could keep up with you and how deep down, it scares her that you might find a problem with it eventually.

note: I just had to post this before going to sleep because the idea is too good. I love the way your brain works and again, thank you for sending in the req <3 love you and I hope you like this.

you were a beacon of light in the cesspool of chaos that is sevika’s life.

to this day, she still doesn’t understand how you and her got into a relationship but here you are now, going strong for almost a year and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

you two rarely get into arguments, when you did she never hesitates to reach out and fix the situation right away because she can’t stand being on bad terms with you for long.

you two are on the same mental wavelength, which sevika appreciates given how you’re a lot younger than her. she’s in her 40s and you were in 20s, but sometimes she forgets because conversations always run smoothly between you two.

but just because she forgets that doesn’t mean other people fail to bring it up.

when you started dating, it was a bit difficult given how it wasn’t received well by a lot of her peers. not that they judged her for it because they could never unless they wanted to have their face busted in. but it was the occasional remarks that had a hint of judgement in them that made sevika uncomfortable.

things such as “she’s a bit young, isn’t she? you better keep an eye on her especially because you’re always at work. it’s hard being in a relationship with someone who’s at a different stage in life as you.”

both of you had jobs but her work compared to yours was hectic. you work as a waitress at jericho’s meanwhile sevika is paid to get her hands dirty for silco. the job was tedious and draining and sometimes she comes home, tired to the bone that she could barely catch up with you. which she feels immensely guilty for.

you’ve reassured her that it isn’t a big deal and that you understand her status in zaun is far more important than yours. you’ve always acknowledged sevika’s role in the under city and why she was feared by many, that’s what attracted you to her in the first place. she was loyal, devoted and her endurance was insane.

but still, despite how sevika’s job is her number one priority, it still doesn’t slip her mind that she may accidentally neglect you and your needs without her knowing.

and she knows it takes a toll on you too, you just don’t want to bring it up because you respect her too much. and she was right because when she came home early one night you weren’t there, and it was almost midnight when you finally returned and you were shocked to see sevika sitting on your couch waiting for you. usually she’d be back around 2-3am.

“hey, you didn’t tell me silco would let you off the hook early,” you said but your words became background noise because she was too focused on your appearance. you were dressed up and from where she sat she could tell you’ve had a lot to drink.

it’s not that it upset sevika you went out, you could do whatever you want but it saddens her that you didn’t even go out of your way to tell her about it assuming she’d be coming home late. is this what you do when she’s not here? go out with your friends and have fun? it’s not that she expects you to wait for her in your apartment all day while she’s away for work.

still, the thought bothers her as she wonders what you must’ve been up to while she was gone. she tries to set the thought aside, not wanting to think bad of you because she knows you’d never go against her back. but certain thoughts crept up at the back of her mind. did you meet someone while you were out? were you offered drinks? did someone invite you out to dance?

“sev, baby, you there?” she didn’t even realize she zoned out until she felt you cupping her cheek “are you tired? you shouldn’t have stayed up for me.”

she shook her head “it’s alright. but yeah, silco let me off early and I wanted to surprise you.”

your shoulders sagged “I’m sorry. I assumed you’d come home late again so I decided to just go out with friends. had I known I would’ve waited so we can stay in and cuddle.”

despite your flattery words, the only thing that stuck to sevika was you implying she’d be late again. you didn’t mean it maliciously, there was no bitterness in your tone but instead there was just… acceptance. which frustrated her because people were right.

perhaps being at different stages in life does this. you needed a partner who you can home to and have fun with but instead you got her who’s always late, is already asleep when you probably want to stay up and have sex at night. she would force herself to push through just for you but she isn’t getting any younger and it shows.

maybe it’s because others have planted it in her head that you two are just far too different that’s why she’s overthinking like this, but it’s becoming more and more evident that they were right and if she doesn’t find a way to fix this, god knows before you start seeing the cracks and the dents as well.

and so in the following day she asked silco if she could cut off her usual hours at work to get back home early. at least for a few weeks and silco was shocked for a second because if there was anyone who’s extremely dedicated to their job, it’s her.

but it’s because of that he deliberates on the request “very well,” he answered “but if the matters are urgent I expect you to come in either way,”

well, it’s better than nothing, sevika thought. what matters is she’ll try to find some time to spend the following weeks with you and to hopefully regain the spark in your relationship.

not that she’s saying it’s lost but she’s scared it will. because if her days don’t consist of work, she’s either at the bar playing cards to blow off some steam, which isn’t exactly a productive way of spending one’s time.

unlike you, you have tons of friends who you go out with at clubs and sevika just doesn’t want to think about all the people you meet there, who are probably the same age as you, and have wanted to ask you out but you turned them down because of her.

meanwhile, she’s here and she can’t even keep you happy like how you deserve.

it eats her up alive that’s why as soon as she comes back from work a lot earlier than usual, she immediately engulfs you in a back hug when she sees you cooking in the kitchen.

you gasped, not expecting her “sev, you’re home.” you were surprised as you turned around “did something happen?”

she shook her head, smiling “no sweetheart, silco just let me off early again. plus I’ve been meaning to spend more time with my girl…”

you still weren’t used to the disruption of the routine, because she’s normally away at these hours, but you weren’t complaining.

and with that, you spent most of the evening cooking and catching up with each other. you didn’t miss the way sevika followed you around the house like a lost puppy when you started cleaning up to get ready for bed.

you raised an eyebrow when she wrapped her arms around your waist while you were washing the dishes, noticing how she’s awfully more needy than usual.

“baby, go rest. you just got back home from work.” you giggled and she just shook her head.

“I just want to spend more time with you. I feel like I haven’t been the best partner.”

that halted you in your tracks and you angled your head so you can face her “baby, what makes you think that?” your eyebrows were furrowed and she just held you tighter.

she lets out a breath, tired and awfully nervous about vocalizing her doubts. what if once she points it out you start seeing the red flags too? and then these affectionate gestures just won’t be enough? what then?

“I know with my job and the responsibilities I have, I haven’t been able to fulfill your needs. you have so much ahead of you and I’m always at work and I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m wasting your time.” she said and you just stood there, letting her words sink in.

“you’re young and you could be with someone whose head isn’t always stuck in a bunch of paperwork or is running around the lanes doing silco’s dirty work.” her jaw clenched and she starts to wonder if admitting to all of this was a good idea.

“I’m sorry, princess. I just don’t want to bore you by leaving you here at home all by yourself…”

you immediately swiveled around in her arms and took her face in your hands.

“sev, look at me.” you said, your voice stern “I could give less than two fucks about people my age. you think when I got into a relationship with you I didn’t know what I was signing myself up for? of course I did and I don’t regret any of it. I know you have responsibilities and I accepted all of your duties the moment you became mine.”

“I could never be bored of you, baby.” you told her, thumb caressing her cheek “you don’t treat me any differently because of my age so why should I? I love it that you’re so hard at work and that you provide for me. the fact my salary at jericho’s isn’t even enough to pay half of our rent but you don’t mind because you provide for us both, why would I find that boring? that’s fucking sexy.”

she couldn’t help but let out a snort “oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re staying with me because I’m basically your sugar mommy?”

you grinned “amongst other things,” you said before capturing her lips with your own.

the kiss was hot, heavy and slow as sevika gripped your hips and pulled you against her. pushing her knee up and sliding it across your thighs and she started rubbing against your clothed cunt, making you whimper.

“so you’re not bored of me? or mad?” she asked as she pulled away to look at you.

you rolled your eyes “you could be 23 or 75 for all I care and I still wouldn’t get bored of you.”

your finger drew circles around her chest as you fluttered your eyes up at her “plus you fuck me like you’re 23 anyway, so I don’t see why I would look for someone my age.”

she couldn’t help but laugh, swooping you up in her arms and you circled your legs around her waist as she walked you to your bedroom “god, you’re such a handful.” she said.

you smirked “but you love it.”

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ Even Seas Must Dream — One Piece x Reader Sleeping HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Characters included: Luffy, Zoro, Law, Ace, Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Mihawk

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Luffy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Always clings to you no matter what, you can try to put pillows between you and he'll just cling to them instead

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He can either wake up the second you leave the bed or sleep like a stone anchored into sand depending on the night

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Don't be alarmed if you wake up to rubbery arms wrapped around you like a hose, he's just making sure you don't fall out of bed or anything

ᯓᡣ𐭩 If you get up to get a drink or something there's a good chance he's gonna follow you for his 5th midnight snack of the night and keep am arm around you the whole time

Zoro

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sleeps like a stone. Unmoving, mostly on his side or on his back, somehow manages to look tense while doing it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When he sleeps on his back he loves for you to lay with your head on his chest, or even directly on him if he's comfortable enough. When on his side he prefers to be cradling you from behind

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Probably the most open with affection when he's sleepy, he reaches a point where he's too tired to care about others and openly leans on you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The second you get up to get something he notices, he'll always offer to go with you even if he can barely stay awake while saying so

Law

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He has a terrible time falling asleep. I feel like he'd be the type to constantly be aware of the health of others while hypocritically not acknowledging his own

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You have to practically drag him to a place to sleep whenever he's been up for way too long, which he'll argue about for the longest time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Once he falls asleep, he'll eventually curl around you and hold you tight to his chest. You are now stuck for the rest of the night, his grip while sleeping is surprisingly strong

ᯓᡣ𐭩 In the morning he's gonna complain about being hot despite being the one who refused to stop cuddling you for even a second

Ace

ᯓᡣ𐭩 His body temperature is naturally pretty high. It makes him amazing for cuddles in the winter, but in the summer you might wanna keep a little distance

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Messy sleep schedule. Naps wherever he feels like it and spends a lot of time at night doing sneaky side jobs (mostly breaking into bars) with all the extra energy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sleeps very heavy when he does manage to rest, you can barely wake him for anything and he'll nap far into the afternoon if you don't get him up

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Both fortunately and unfortunately, his favorite way of sleeping is tucked directly into your side, giving a random kiss to your shoulder before he's fully asleep

Sir Crocodile

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pretty average sleep schedule despite how invested in his work he always is. He insists on keeping his mind sharp, and sleep is part of that, though he isn't opposed to an all-nighter now and again

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Not that flexible when it comes to it either— when he says it's time to sleep, you gotta head to bed too. How can you expect to be there for him if you can't even keep awake for yourself?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Very light sleeper. The second something is wrong, he'll be up. Unfortunately this also means a night of restful sleep is rare to come by for him more often than not

ᯓᡣ𐭩 His quality of sleep began improving greatly when he started letting you hang onto him, something about reaching out in the middle of the night to feel you close by comforts him

Buggy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Claims he 'doesn't need sleep' and then will only go a few hours past his typical bedtime before absolutely crashing

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A big con of sleeping beside him is he can have cartoonishly loud snores when he's really out cold, and he insists on having you close at all times

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sometimes in the search for the perfect sleep position his limbs will move around in their detached state. It was pretty startling the first few times you woke up to a separated arm or leg hanging onto you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 One of the cons is he let's his hair completely down to sleep and you're the only one that gets to mess with it however you want (though he will playfully complain no matter what)

Mihawk

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sleeps in calculated amounts to keep his mind sharp. He's pretty lenient on when you sleep, but he'll subtly hint to you when he's ready to head to sleep

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He goes to sleep on his side of the bed but always ends up cuddled up to you by the morning. He claims he doesn't know how it keeps happening

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Most times he wakes up way earlier than you do, so by the time you go to find him he's got breakfast ready and did most of the household chores

ᯓᡣ𐭩 One of the only times he doesn't look like he's constantly frowning is when he's asleep, it's a unique kind of peaceful others don't see from him, a sight reserved only for you

[rex-rambles]

➤ HOMEMAKER | LEWIS HAMILTON

summary: if your past relationships have taught you anything, you'll never be a homemaker, as hard as you try - so what do you do when lewis comes home to you? (inspired by 'homemaker' by next of kin)

pairing: lewis hamilton x celebrity!reader

wc: 1.8 k

warnings: angst with a happy ending, discussions of negative past relationships

➤ MASTERLIST

You had gotten used to silence. 

It didn't matter that you had adoring fans, or paparazzi trailing you, photoshoots or interviews, when you were alone, you were silent. That's how it always seemed to be, anyway. 

You don't know how many nights you'd sat like this, not saying a word as you're curled up at the end of some guy's couch. Sometimes, you had a book. Sometimes, you had a mug of tea or coffee, clothes actually put away in drawers or closets.

Other times you were just passing through. 

You don't know how many nights you'd sat like this, phone left on the table in front of you, waiting for that text, that call, anything. It always started out sweet, the messages, the compliments, only to turn to silence in a few months time. If you had a dollar for every night you spent like this, you could buy an island somewhere far away to be silent in, but instead, you waste your time and your money on the rare chance that they come through in the end. 

They never do.

In your fantasies, they're knights in shining armour, who come home with flowers or a surprise dinner, but even you couldn't fool yourself sometimes. You don't think any of the guys you'd seen have ever fantasized about you in that way, either, because you already did it. You showed up, you planned surprises, you played the role of the loving, doting partner. 

Yet, despite it all, you weren't a homemaker at the end of the day. It wasn't even like you were trying to be some stay-at-home spouse, you just wanted a relationship that was real, that lasted, that you could call home.

But, no matter how much time, or energy, or god forbid love you put into a relationship, it didn't last. In the end, it seemed that you just housed people who liked you break your heart. Men saw a star, something to chase, but never keep. Marriage was never in the cards, something long, something stable either. There was a time you used to dream about it, of actually settling down and finding enough love somewhere to marry someone, but now, you'd seen the worst of enough men to be content with silence, with not throwing your life away for them. 

It didn't stop you from curling up on strangers' couches, or watching your phone. 

It just made it that much more pitiful. 

"God," Lewis's voice makes you jump, mug of tea rocking forward and spilling onto his probably ridiculously expensive carpet. Penthouse guys always splashed out on whatever cost the most, even if it didn't look good. "Shit, sorry babe." 

"Shit," You echo somewhat numbly, trying to rise to find something to clean it up with, and Lewis waves a hand, moving from the open front door to the kitchen, and you can't help but stare at it. 

The hallway is brightly lit at all hours, casting a warm glow into the darkened apartment. It's like a little glimpse into whatever heaven Lewis had come from, and you spare a glance at your phone on the table, no message waiting for you. You'd surprised him, by being here, and he'd surprised you by showing up.

Lewis returns with a roll of paper towel, dropping to your feet to try and pat down the carpet, and he spares a glance up at you. "What are you still doing up?" He asks, before noticing the door is open. "Can you get that for me?" 

"I was going to wait to see if you made it in on time." You answer as you slowly move to the door, pulling Lewis's luggage aside as you close it, casting the apartment in darkness again. For some reason, you can't bring yourself to turn any lights on, so you stand in the little front hall, staring at the shadows of Lewis as he does a fairly poor job of cleaning. 

"It's so late," He says, finally rising with his hands full of soaked paper towel. "You should be in bed. You should be at home." 

"I can go." Most didn't want you to stay, anyway. Some liked this little gesture, of waiting up for them, surprising them with their favourite, back home treats after long periods away, but you'd only been going out with Lewis for a month or two now. It might be overstepping, or it might just be another sign of commitment you can never have. 

"No, no." Lewis says, throwing the paper towel away in the kitchen and flicking on the overhead island light. It was a soft kind of glow that made Lewis seem that much warmer, and the dark that much farther from him. "I gave you the key for a reason, but it's almost 2 AM. You're going to ruin your sleep schedule." 

You move forward to stand in the shadows of the living room, wrapping your arms around his oversized shirt you'd adopted to sleep in for the past few days. "You're one to talk," You try to tease, though it doesn't quite reach your voice. "How many time zones have you gone through this week?" 

"That's different." Lewis says, coming to stand before you. His hands are gentle on your waist, pulling you close to him. "You really stayed up? For me?" 

"Even got those brownies you like from that bakery." You say, gesturing to the kitchen counter. Lewis glances over and a warm laugh bubbles out of him, echoing off the walls. Your hands come to smooth against his chest, as if to feel that he's actually there. It wouldn't last, history tells you. He'd be this sweet, for so long, and then he'd go. 

"Great minds think alike, hm?" Lewis moves to grab one of his bags, and he fishes out a somewhat crumpled container that he hands to you, a logo embossed on the top that you'd recognize anywhere. "There was that cookie place you liked, and I had a layover. I was going to surprise you with them tomorrow, but you sort of beat me to that." 

You slowly take the cookies in hand, and silence rests over you once more. 

It was a regional bakery, a place you talked about loving as a kid. No one ever really cared about it, it was just a sweet story to share over desserts to make people think you had something to talk about. You spare a glance back up at Lewis, who smiles softly back down at you, and neither of you says a word. 

You had gotten used to silence, but you didn't know how to break it. You didn't know how to vocalize that he'd remembered, that, cracking open the top, he'd even gotten the flavour right, that he went out of his way to get them for you. You don't know how to think about this as anything other than doomed, but all the signs keep saying otherwise. 

Gently, Lewis's hand comes up to cradle your cheek, turning it so it's more in the light of the kitchen. "Are you alright?" He asks quietly, "Tired?" 

"I-" All words die on your tongue. You didn't know how to be anything other than what the world wanted to see of you, of a star with their equally famous partner, of being too much or not enough, never going anywhere. Every relationship had been some kind of car wreck, wheels spinning uselessly as you tried to move forward when all they wanted to do was press on the break. 

You didn't know how to love Lewis. You just knew how to pretend.

"You can tell me, you know." He says, letting his hand drop. "You've always got this look on your face, like you're so far away. Is it me?"

"You?" You manage to get out softly, "No." 

"Don't say 'it's me, not you'," Lewis says, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "Give me something real." 

"You didn't text." You find yourself saying, and Lewis pulls back with a knowing look. 

"Didn't want to wake you. But this isn't about that, because you told me just yesterday I don't have to check in all the time." He moves forward until you hit his couch, and easily he lifts you up to sit on the back of it, cookie box now resting in your lap, and he leans his arms on either side of your legs. "So? You making up reasons to leave?" 

Maybe. You stare down at the open box of cookies, and as honestly as you can, you try to explain the strange sort of pulling feeling at your heart. "Most guys don't text. When they go out, or when they travel, it's just radio silence. They give me a time, and I stay up, and they don't show." 

"Most guys?" 

"You know my reputation, Lewis." It was every other headline, every other blurry photo. You were the one they called a heartbreaker, despite the fact you were the one who wanted these things to work out. "I'm not exactly a homemaker." It's not that you didn't try, that despite it all you wanted to have the perfect relationship, but that they didn't let you. "Men come into my life, and for a blissful moment, I convince myself it'll work out, and it never does. No one's getting down on one knee, no one's remembering anniversaries, they just leave. Because of me." 

"That's not because of you." Lewis tries to defend, and you shake your head. 

"It is." It's a gallant thought, to try and defend you like that, but at this point there is only one part of this equation that remains the same: you. "I'm too famous, or I'm not famous enough. I'm too clingy, or I don't care about their art. I'm too far away, I can't travel, I'm just not enough. And you didn't text." 

Lewis moves one hand to gently graze the side of your thigh, gently rubbing his thumb in circles. "So you didn't expect me to walk through that door. That's why I scared you." 

"I get their apartments all nice and ready, change the sheets, pick up a favourite of theirs, get a text about it the next day and they repay me for it with a fancy dinner to make us both feel less guilty." You admit, suddenly far too close to Lewis to stop.  "And you showed up. You remembered. Why?" 

"Why?" Lewis echoes, sounding rather surprised by the question. "Because it meant something to you." 

"No." No, it didn't mean something to you, that's not how your partners have ever thought. It had to mean something to them, a bribe, something to ease the guilt, something to help them, not you. "It meant something to you." 

"Yeah, you mean something to me." The words force the air from your lungs, and Lewis leans forward to gently press his forehead to yours. Maybe it was that he was a British gentleman, maybe that he was a different kind of a celebrity, maybe that he was older, but he was different, and you didn't know what to do with that. "I guess I've been out of the dating pool too long," He jokes softly under his breath, "Seems like the world has lost their minds." 

You try your best to laugh, a small, sad thing, and Lewis pulls back to stare at you in a way you fantasized about for years. "Lewis," You finally manage to say, "I...I don't know what to do with all this."

"You don't have to. Just let me care for you." Maybe that was how love worked, after all.

You didn't have to know how to do it, or how it worked, but rather, you just tried your best to care for those who meant something to you.

Lewis's arms come under your knees as he scoops you up, carrying you bridal style toward his bedroom, and for the first time, in a long time, you think that this might last. "And to begin, that means getting us to bed." 

a/n: LISTEN TO NEXT OF KIN!! Homemaker and Jekyll and Hyde are my favourites

[tisanegarden]

Asking entirely in good faith and with the hope of gaining insight: how does the alternative play out?

Something I've seen (and wrestled with the morals of) in local communities a few times is that someone is outed as a Bad Person, some proportion of people decide they don't want that kind of Bad in their lives and stop inviting them places. Sometimes an organiser or admin will officially ban them from an event or online group, often they could still go but it'd be awkward. Sometimes they're genuinely shitty, like sexual predators or serial abusers, sometimes their mental health issues cause them to unintentionally hurt others, sometimes it's just regular human conflict that escalated and everybody got hurt. But figuring out which of those things happened and the appropriate response can be impossible.

I've been on both sides of it. Someone hurt me, in a small but serious way, I mentioned it to someone else in the group and so many people had stories of this person abusing their position of power and pushing people into things. An admin had a quiet word with them (quite politely as I understand) and they burned every bridge in sight, made legal threats and basically went mask-off and stormed out. They've since found their way into a position of power in another group, whose admins have started asking us for help with dealing with them. On the flip side, an ex decided I'm the devil and pressured a community group into banning me from their events. Which sucks, isolation has an outsized effect on me, but if people hear that you're a predator then there's nothing you can say that won't be discarded as manipulation.

So on the one hand, I can't blame people for saying "I don't believe you're irredeemably evil, but you've got shit to work on and until you do, you're gonna keep hurting me and I don't want to be around you". And if an organiser is told that someone's a predator, they're caught between "believe victims, abuse is under-reported, so much harm is done by people in power choosing to do nothing" and "community is for everyone, and interpersonal drama often gets conflated with Bad Person", which isn't a pleasant choice, and it's not like these communities generally have the spare resources for complex conflict mediation, so it tends to be they do nothing, restrict how/when/where the person can participate, or ban them entirely. Taken altogether, it's exactly as you describe, anyone can be ostracised for quite nebulous reasons, especially if they're already marginalised.

I don't know what the alternative is, other than a world where people can easily access things like therapy and conflict resolution services, but I welcome any viewpoints people would like to toss in.

btw it truly is incredible how you can say "weaponising social power dynamics to isolate ostracise people from any form of community is cruel and fucked up and doesn't meaningfully protect anyone or achieve anything" as articulately and eloquently as you like and people will still be like okay except when you do it to Bad People. who we will identify and protect ourselves from by weaponising social power dynamics to isolate and ostracise them from any form of community.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

"To be loved is to be known."

These words are carved into almost every cringy typical romantic novel.

Most ignore this quote not realizing its depth or meaning.

But sadly Damian wayne is not most.

No, Damian understands these words perfectly and more often then not they keep him awake.

He wonders if someone will ever love him enough to get to know him.

To know his favorite color. To know when he likes something or when he's just faking it.

To know his favorite animal. Even if he'd never say he had one because there all equally valuable in his eyes.

To just know him.

Sure, his family knows but they don't really know him ,not enough atleast.

Not beyond the surface.

Not like Damian knows you.

And though he might not look like the type to crave affection or attention he certainly wouldn't deny it....... Atleast not if it comes from you.

Now you are undeniably loved.

Because whether you know it or not you are known. By the ex assasins boy himself.

He knows your favorite color. He knows your real laugh.

He knows when you like something and when you don't.

He knows how you like to do your nails. He knows your nervous habits.

He even knows when your going to do something dumb.....

Sometimes the young boy wonders if he knows you more then he knows himself.

Your delicate in his eyes something to be cherished with deep care and divine love.

Atleast that's how he views you.

He wonders how you'd describe him if you knew him.

If you'd say kind words about him.

If you'd say his name like a prayer like he does yours....

Or if you'd see him as a monster.....

But alas you don't know him atleast not yet.

But today you will because whether you know it or not today you meet your future husband.

Yes, future husband. But for now he'll settle for being your friend.

He'll settle. Something the Wayne boy never does. Settle.

But then again he'd do anything for you.

He watches as you walk into view perfect eyes perfect hair. Perfect women ,in his eyes.

Never a flaw in sight only details that add to your beauty.

He walks past you and accidentally bumps shoulders making you drop your bag.

And of course you apologize that isn't surprising especially not to him.

Not to someone who knows you in and out.

He helps you pick up your bag and it's so cliche how this interaction is going but then again it's better then Jason's advice on how to 'rizz' you up.

Grimacing at the thought damian picks up your bag and hands it to you. Taking Dicks advice at holding eye contact.

And looking into your eyes Damian doesn't think he'd ever need to be told to look into your eyes.

Because he simply can't look away....

"Sorry about that...I should've looked where I was going ,I guess." You say and your voice is like angel whispering symphonies into Damians ears.

He never wants it to stop...

He wonders if you apologize to everyone like this....especially if it isn't your fault.

But no worries! because soon enough you'd never have to stand up for yourself anymore!

He'd be there to fight your battles...

Even ones that you don't want him to fight....

"It's fine....." He mutters and he wishes he could slap himself without looking insane infront of you.

Because why does he always sounds so mean?

"Your beautiful......" Damian says and to hell with Jason's advice on how to 'rizz' you up and playing it smooth.

He would just be himself... and like always he's quite blunt.....

You look at him confused and shocked you didn't just think he'd say something... so random.

"Can I have your number?" A number is definitely not what Damian wants.

He wants everything.

But again for you he'll settle.

"Well I usually don't give my number out to people I don't know..."

You don't know? Damian wanted to laugh but he knows he'd definitely look insane.

He knows everything about you.

He could have your number if he wanted to. All he had to do was ask Tim to hack your phone.... but no, he was being nice and asking.

Something he rarely did.

"But I'll take a chance with you."

Did you really just rizz him up like that?

Now he understood the power of rizz as he stands blushing infront of you.

But to you that isn't even considered rizz atleast not until you give him a flirty wink at the end.

He watches as you walk away like a starved man watching his food. He just can't get enough...

But he had to remind himself that in time you'll never leave his side. (Or more like he won't leave yours)

Pocketing his phone he smiles to himself.

And Damian had never been more grateful in his life that God actually answered his prayers.

Well his prayers was for you to marry him but he's in the right direction.

Atleast he thinks so.

Thanks for reading!

This is part two to this.

Likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @ange0124

[blubunz]

SUGAR & SPICE

— sugar daddy! bruce wayne x f! sugar baby! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: reader doesn't know bruce wayne is batman, overstimulation, fingering, praise kink, slight angst, daddy kink obvi, not a lot in here though.

A/N: Ough I don't think this is healthy at all um yeah that's all :] idk if this is angst though I put the tag there just in case. I have a different plot in mind though but I can't lead the story up to that I'm so upset. Maybe I'll do a part 2.

Honestly, Bruce isn't the type to maintain a long-lasting relationship. You should've learned that by now. Hell, one of his titles is The Playboy Millionaire! Or, billionaire. Millionaire is so last season.

Still, young and naive little girl you are, you chase after him. Sometimes, it reminds him of a puppy, always seeking his validation. You are always at every one of his event, dressed so nicely in your favorite colour, with that sparkly eyes and cute smile.

You're not his type, not exactly the one he's looking for to spend the rest of his life when he's skin and bones. You should've given up long ago, he's the type to tease, not to indulge.

He gives you one night, one night to satisfy your urges. You look so pathetic when he denies you, it melts his heart even if his moral is screaming at him not to. You're old enough, already an adult, sure. But he is too old for you, still. This will never work out for the two of you.

That night, he brings you to a lavish hotel, booked on the highest floor, the most luxurious one. Bruce is an absolute gentleman, of course he is, he's not acting like himself, he simply just wants you to stop, to make you realize after one night that he's not a good fit for you.

Bruce can see your anticipation, how your hips sway when you walk, or when he sits you down, your thighs are tightly closed against each other, practically rubbing yourself underneath your dress. He doesn't want to rush you, he even offers to get some food first or shower, but you insist.

Young people these days.

If that's what you want, then.

Bruce sighs, but he gives you a smile that melts your vulnerable heart. You jolt when he gently touches your thigh, and before he can ask you anything, you frantically nod.

“Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself.” You stammer nervously, already sweating bullets. Fuck, you didn't expect yourself to react like this. You're mostly excited, but your body reacts the same when you're nervous too, of course you're sweating, but for good reasons.

“Don't worry, sweet girl. I live up to my reputation.” In actuality, he doesn't sleep around a lot. A few women, sure, but it doesn't go above five.

He's crazy good, though. His finger gently swipes up and down the front of your panties, feeling it getting wetter and wetter by the seconds. He's observing you close and slowly, and you feel yourself burning just from that alone.

Bruce leans down, pressing a small kiss on your cheek. “I'll put my fingers in, is that okay?”

You nod, breathing shakily when he plays with your pubes, then going past it to reach under. Big fingers gently touching your clit, down to your slick folds.

Your hips buck, and you grab his wrist tightly, trying to hump yourself on it.

“Calm down, I haven't put it in.” He laughs, voice low and rumbly in his chest when he can even feel your desperation seeping through his fingers. “I don't want to rush. Stay still for me, okay, baby?”

You nod, slowly loosening your grip, and Bruce pushes two fingers in your puffy cunt. His eyes closed, feeling your wet heat squeezing his fingers as if it's his cock. You're practically shaking, moaning and eyes rolling up already when he's knuckles deep in you. What would you do if it was his cock instead?

Luckily enough, he doesn't plan to fuck you tonight. He'll just fuck you with his fingers until you pass out and that's it, that should make you feel enough.

His mind sets on it quickly, pulling your panties off completely, he begins plunging his fingers in and out of your needy pussy, and you can feel the pads pressing and curling up against your walls, stretching you out so much, rubbing right against that spot.

You're drooling already, your head leaning on his shoulder as he pulls you to his lap to keep you from squirming so much.

“That's it, baby. Let it out, no one can hear you.” He assures, wriggling his fingers in your cunt as he palm grinds against your clit. Your back arches, thinking of how alone you are, how there's just the two of you in this lavished hotel room, on the top floor that has the nicest view of this gloomy city.

“Bruce!” You gasps, his free hand gripping your arm tightly, leaning in your neck to kiss it. It tickles, you thought, but you can't react to it because his fingers just push in you once more, curling so delicious you feel like you're above the clouds.

Bruce reminds every second that this is for you, not for shared enjoyments between two people. Just you. Just to give you satisfaction, enough to have you ignore him, hopefully.

“Good girl. Move your hips just like that.” He pants, feeling a bit riled up himself too. He can't help it, of course he can't. You're moaning and writhing so much, shaking under his grip, so vulnerable and weak, something he expects from someone like you, but it doesn't mean he's used to it. “Can you cum for me, baby? Are you going to cum on my fingers?”

The way he's talking to you is nothing you've heard before. Like he's coddling you, like you're his delicate little doll. You've heard him talked many times, composed and calm, he carries that persona like he's some old-fashioned rich man. But now he's acting like someone you'd call "daddy" as you cling tight to him, and him hugging you back, praising you and protecting you as you deserve to be.

You cum with a silent scream, jaw hanging open and head tilting back with your eyes following. You can't think. How can you just have the best orgasm just from his fingers alone?

“Good girl.” He smiles, that makes you feel warm inside. With a gentle kiss on your sweaty forehead, he drawls his fingers out slowly, feeling your inside convulsed and twitching, clinging tight to him when he pulls out completely.

You're dazed already, too dazed to notice the growing bulge between his thighs. No, Bruce won't fuck you with that. Instead, he resumes his action, pushing his fingers back in, having his name shakingly spelled out from your throat.

“Hmngh...B-Bruce, I-I just—”

“Shh, shh. Come on, surely you can handle one more, can't you, pretty girl?” He pulls your face up to look at him. He gives you that same smile that gives you butterflies, going down to kiss behind your ear. “One more, please?”

You can't deny him. No one can. And certainly he's just made you crave him more after tonight, after so much orgasm in one night. Who wouldn't?

[urcoolgf]

what’s your deal? pt. 7

pairing. childhood bsf¡rafe && reader

content. fluff

summary. just a cute fluff chapter of you and rafe getting used to being together (enzo will be dealt with in the next part, just give them this cutesie moment)

SERIES MASTERLIST

you and rafe had spent all day together. it was nice– things weren’t back to normal, they were better. you and rafe were currently curled up on the couch– it was about 8pm, but your dad requested you don’t go out too late tonight because of his ‘family plans’ for tomorrow. you didn’t mind, and you didn’t think rafe did either. you had turned on some movie that was actually interesting– not to rafe though. all he could do was look at you, his right arm slung around you while his left hand played with the hem of your shorts.

sometimes his right hand would aimlessly explore your hair, running his fingers through your scalp. it felt nice– not only did you have your best friend back, but now it was something different. rafe just seemed… happier– like a weight had been lifted. you weren’t sure how long he had felt the way he did, but– sitting here, right now, curled into his chest while his fingers roamed all over you– you were glad he had confessed. you never expected this, but now that it was here, you couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

“y’wanna do somethin’ fun?,” rafe’s soft voice cut through the low hum of the tv, looking down at you.

“my dad wanted us to stay here tonight,” you replied plainly, not taking your focus off the screen.

“i know… but ‘m jus’ really in the mood for one of those soft pretzels from the gas station down the road,” that caught your attention– he knew those were your favorites, and you hadn’t even gotten one yet. your head snapped up to look at the mischievous smirk spreading across his face. a similar one took place on your lips because of it.

“okay fi–,” before you could even finish, rafe was off the couch. he reached down to grab your waist, and throw you over his broad shoulders, your soft giggles filling the air.

he finally set you down near the door so you could both put on your sneakers. both of you quietly walked out the door, careful to close it softly since your dad's bedroom was nearby.

—

the walk to the gas station wasn't too long– maybe 10 minutes– so, you pulled out your phone, shuffling your playlist titled 'Sounds like love'.

Disco by Surf Curse poured through the speaker of your phone. rafe just looked at you– wide smile on his face like he had never seen something more beautiful. you slipped your phone into his pocket, grabbing his hands, and beginning to move to the beat. you were walking backwards at this point, dragging rafe with you. he had no complaints– a genuine laugh left his lips, and you had never seen him so happy. it warmed your heart.

admire all of you

but fire burns me, too

can't stop that disco getting through

can't stop that disco wanting you

'cause there's nothing like it, locking my eyes with you

rafe held his arm up, spinning you like a dancer. your laughs were like music to his ears, and he swore life couldn’t get any more perfect than this. he motioned for you to jump on his back so he could carry you the rest of the walk. songs continued to play from his pocket until you arrived. you didn’t talk, just rested your head on his shoulder. your arms slung around his torso while he held you up by your thighs which were wrapped just above his hips.

you gave him quick kisses on his cheek or neck while he carried you.

“thanks for the ride, ray,” you whispered into his ear, giggling before you could finish your sentence.

“anytime, princess,” his signature smug smirk present on his face.

once you had finally made it to the gas station, rafe set you down easily, and the two of you made your way inside.

you grabbed the pretzels out of the mini heated carousel (i have no idea what they’re called), and then made your way over to the slushie machines. you never really got to have slushies except for when you were here. you and rafe had gotten them every vacation since you were kids– when you were little, rafe even taught you to mix the different flavors: cherry and coca cola to make cherry coke, cherry and blue raspberry to make… well you weren’t exactly sure, but it tasted good.

after rafe paid the cashier, you headed back outside. rafe wasn’t ready to let this moment go yet. he shoved the pretzel into his mouth, handed you his slushie, and motioned for you to get back on his back.

“rafe, you can’t carry me! you have a pretzel in your mouth, idiot. eat it first. then you can,” you laughed, scolding him like you were his mother.

“fine. but, if you don’t get on my back do you promise to follow me?,” he had a childish look on his face, like he was genuinely expecting you to promise him.

“follow you where?,” your brows furrowed together. you weren’t even supposed to be out now, and rafe wanted to stay out even longer?

“doesn’t matter. you can’t ask questions. promise?,” his hopeful face made you melt. you just couldn’t say no to him.

you nodded your head, raising your arm to tell him to lead the way.

you followed without complaints. eventually he finished his pretzel, and once again, wanted you to get on his back.

“fine! fine! you’re so weird,” you laughed, holding your hands up in joking surrender before hopping onto his back. his hands cold against your thighs from the slushie cup he was previously carrying.

you were only on his back a little longer. the sun was beginning to set just as you guys had arrived at rafe’s destination.

“here we are princess,” he said, plopping you back down on your feet. he had led you to the beginning of a forest of some sort.

“and where exactly is ‘here’?,” your puzzled expression made him chuckle slightly. he just took your hand in response, guiding you toward the path through the trees.

once you came out the other end, there was a tiny beach– it couldn’t have spanned more than 50 feet. it was clean, but obviously secluded. the sun cast a light right above the water, the pinks and oranges of the pre-sunset sky reflecting off the calm ocean.

“ray…,” you began, but you didn’t really know what to say. it was gorgeous.

“beautiful innit?,” he turned toward you, big smile on his face. the sun cast a perfect glow onto the side of his face. you admired him for a moment before turning back to the water.

“yeah,” you sighed, eyes glued to the image in front of you. you had seen many sunsets before, but something about this one felt magical. rafe moved to sit on the sand, patting the spot next to him, urging you to join him. of course, you did. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to him.

the two of you watched as the sun set. the hand that was slung over your shoulder placed itself on the side of your face, making you turn your head towards rafe.

“hey,” he whispered, leaning in towards you.

“hey,” you whispered back, a small smile forming on your lips.

“‘m gonna kiss you now, ‘kay?,” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question– more of a warning.

“mkay,” you nodded lightly. a smirk took over his face before he leaned fully into you, colliding his lips with yours. it was so strange– not because it actually felt weird, but because it felt natural, as if you had done this for years. as if your lips had been made for his.

he pushed a little deeper, testing how far you would let him go, exploring new territory. you let him. his tongue pushed through your lips, making contact with yours and your world stopped. you moved your hands to the sides of his face, pulling him impossibly closer before moving them to the back of his neck. your manicured nails raked lightly against his warm skin.

you eventually pulled from each other, both staring as if you couldn’t believe what just happened. rafe leaned forward once more to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“let’s go home, baby,” he said quietly. you just nodded in response, standing and dusting as much sand off you as you could. rafe grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to spin around so he could swipe the sand from the backside of you– he definitely just wanted to touch your ass, but you weren’t complaining.

you grabbed your phone out of rafe’s pocket, playing your music and slipping it back in his pocket before hopping on his back once again. he didn’t even have to tell you this time, you just wanted to.

a soft song began to hum through the air.

spring into summer, and the winter’s gone

i try to hold on to it, but the current’s too strong

somebody finds me in the state i am

love you like i mean it when i know i can’t

you rest your head on his shoulder the same way you did on the way to the gas station, taking in his scent, the feeling of his skin against yours, the lingering sensation of his lips.

hold it against me, cool to the touch

nobody knows what it’s like to be us

somebody finds me in the shallow end

love you like i mean it just because i can

“i like this song,” rafe said unexpectedly, turning his head slightly to try and look at you.

“yeah?,” you asked, a curious smirk on your face, “it’s ours then.”

“nobody knows what it’s like to be us,” he noted to himself.

“nobody knows what it’s like to be us,” you repeated, moving your head from his shoulder to place a kiss to his cheek, and move to wrap your arms over his shoulders.

by the time the song ended, you had arrived back home.

you took your phone out of his pocket, adding the song to a new playlist.

‘Feels like love’.

an: i didn’t realize it had been a few days since my last update on this little series– apologies! also not proofread…

© 𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐆𝐅. est. 2025

TAGS .ᐟ @yktayy9669 @drewsswifeyy @drewrry @frankoceanluvr11 @dearestmillls @icaqttt @lynoriax @hpboysslut2707 @stoned-writer @angvl3tears

[arclic-stuff]

What's been missing

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

Synopsis: You and Lilia have been dating for a few months, but she has felt you becoming distant over the last week. She confronts you, and you open up about your issues with intimacy.

Warnings: smut(18+), sexual tension, teasing, fluff, slight angst?, mentions of bad past relationships and intimacy issues, praise, fingering, begging, cunnilingus, petnames?, sort of dirty talk?

Word count: 3.1k

Author's note: This is the product of burnout and loosely based on my own experiences, whoops. Also, my first time writing smut, in case you couldn't tell lol. I've read over it but honestly fuck it y'all will get the vibe regardless of typos. Feedback is welcome, hope you enjoy!

The harsh bathroom light hurts your eyes as you contemplate your next move. You and Lilia have been dating for a few months since you started tarot lessons with the witch. The two of you clicked and soon the friendship developed further into a relationship that feels so right. All was going well until tonights movie date.

Apart from the occasional make out, things hadn't progressed far on the intimacy side of your relationship. Due to bad experiences in the past, you're hesitant to get intimate with her in case it goes badly and scares her off. So when her hand began to creep up your leg during the movie, you panicked. And so, you've been sitting in the bathroom for the last 15 minutes thinking of what to do.

Knowing you can't hide forever, you head back to your living room towards the couch. Lilia smiles as you approach before looking back at the TV. You sit down next to her, trying to focus on the movie, but Lilia has other plans. Once again, her hand finds your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze as she moves higher. Of course, it feels nice, but you dont know what to do with the feelings, so you shift on the couch, moving to the far end of the couch. You feel Lilia's head turn, but you ignore it, hoping for the moment to pass. Lilia sits for a moment before reaching for the remote, turning off the film.

"(y/n) has something happened?" Lilia turns to face you, worry painted across her face as she prepares for the worst.

"No, I'm fine" You offer a weak smile hoping it is convincing but her face remains the same.

"No, you're not. Why are you pulling away from me? And I don't just mean tonight, this whole week you've been distant. If something's happened between us, I need to know."

Sometimes you forgot how observant Lilia is. You struggle to find the words to explain yourself, instead sitting in silence trying to string together a sentence. The silence is too much for Lilia to bare and so she stands up.

"I should go, I don't know what I've done but I'm sorry. Goodnight (y/n)" The older woman tries and fails to hide the wobble in her voice as she rushes to get her jacket. You rise to your feet to follow after her.

"No please don't go. You've done nothing wrong" You rush to stand between her and the door, reaching for her hand which she pulls away.

"Then why?" Lilia asks, looking at you for an explanation. Struggling to find the words, you grab her hand and pull her back into the living room to sit down on the couch, hoping the movement can give her time to think. The silence of the space mixed with Lilia's pleading eyes pulls the words out of your mouth before you can stop them. Closing your eyes, you explain your issues with intimacy from your last relationship, how you're terrified of going further with her in case you mess it up, but also at the same time how you yearn for her and didn't know how to communicate it without sounding crazy.

You open your eyes, bracing for her reaction, but instead she looks at you with nothing but understanding, "Thank you for telling me this. How are you feeling now?"

"Good, it's been hard keeping it to myself. It's so confusing, I want us to get closer, but it scares me" You fidget with your hands, moving slightly towards Lilia without realising, meanwhile she sits back on the couch.

"We can start small?" Lilia opens her arms to you, inviting you closer, and you accept. Lying in Lilia's arms feels like a reward for finally being open with her and yourself. You sink into her chest as her arms envelope you. Lilia hums as she feels you relax in her arms and starts rubbing your back absentmindedly, making you press into her more.

"We can go at whatever pace you need Dolcezza" Her hand continues on it's path drifitng up and down your spine, making you shudder with every movement, her other hand moves your hair out your face.

"We're in no rush, we can try things out together when you're ready" Lilia plants a gentle kiss on your temple, sighing. Something about how gentle she is being with you fills you with curiousity, urges you haven't allowed youself to dwell on resurfacing with every touch.

"What if I want to try things now" You blurt it out trying to hide you face from the woman.

"Oh? What kind of things?"

You shrug, making Lilia chuckle, "Well, we need some ideas first" 

The hand on your back drifts down towards your waist, making you shiver.

"Do you like being touched like this?" Lilia's voice sounds more suggestive, as if she is being affected just as much as you. You hum as she continues rubbing your back, every often moving back to your waist then hip, making you whimper slightly, but once again lilia notices.

"How did you ex touch you?"

"Not like this" 

"That's not what I asked baby, what did they do? What did you like or dislike? Its okay you can tell me" 

"They never did things like this, it was just sex"

"What do you mean just sex" 

"You know sex sex" 

"Honey do you mean no foreplay?" 

You look up confused, as if it's an alien concept.

"Oh my God that explains so much" 

"There's more to relationships than sex, sweetheart, of course that's nice, but being caressed, worshipped, loved, that's different"

You stare at her in shock, shock of how simple the issue had been. It wasn't the intimacy you had issues with, it was the lack of.

"Can you keep going please?"

Lilia smirks tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Of course love, like this?" Lilia continues to rub your back, going in long movements covering your shoulders, waist, hip bone, it makes you fall back into her arms, head in chest, hand gripping her upper arm as she runs her nails lightly down your spine.

"Is this okay?" She using her other hand to caress your face thumb rubbing your cheek. You nod before nuzzling into her neck again, shifting closer to her in the process.

"(Y/n), I need an answer" 

"Yes" 

"Do you want anything else?" You look away awkwardly, still unsure how to verbalise your thoughts, instead trying to avoid her eye. "Do you want me to stop?" 

"What? No dont" 

"Then what do you want? This is about you right now" Lilia pulls your head out her neck so her mouth is against your ear.

"I just want to make you feel good baby, what can I do?" 

Feeling her breath against your ear gives you new found confidence and without thinking you sit up and move to sit on her lap, straddling her thighs. Lilias eyes widen at the sudden action, keeping her hands at her side, not wanting to push you any further. You slump, fidgeting with your hands unsure what to do now the two of you are face to face. Lilia senses your nerves, moving to hold you hands, making you look up.

"What can I do?" She whispered. Trying to act on instinct, you move her hands to your hips, bottom lip between teeth.

"Show me what I've been missing" 

"Are you sure?" 

"Please, Lilia" 

"Come here then" She hums looking down at you lips. Slowly you lean forward and finally kiss Lilia. It's soft, gentle, quick like the ones you've shared before, but this time it isn't just a sign of affection. Lilia moves her hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. This one goes on for longer, and has more heat contained within. Lips moving against eachother, hands finding Lilia's shoulders and neck.

Lilia's hands are still glued to your body, squeezing your hipbone, advancing upwards but this time under the barrier of your shirt making you sigh into the kiss. Her hand goes further up then comes down quick, nails lightly scratching on the way done. The action makes you break the kiss, pulling back to gasp.

"You okay?" lilia says lips grazing your jaw.

"Yes.." 

"Yes? And?" 

"Yes and keep going please" You whimper gripping onto her shoulders as if it's the only thing stopping you from combusting

"How about we take this to the other room hm?" Lilia tilts her head to look up at you, hands running across your thighs. You nod eagerly, standing up, pulling her up with you. The two of you head for your bedroom, Lilia stops at the doorway, slipping off her shoes before entering after you.

It occurs to you suddenly that Lilias never been in your room before. You feel self-concious about the space, the cluttered bedside table, piles of clothes, and the work desk with your sketches and projects spread out across the surface. Lilia inquisitively looks around the room as she takes off her robe, folding it over your chair. Her eyes settle on the sketches looking at them with genuine interest.

"Are these the commissions you mentioned earlier?" Lilia glances at the open sketchbook infront of her, you come to stand beside her pointing out a seperate drawing.

"Those are just warm up doodles, this is the actual work, it's been a very interesting process actually," You go on to explain when you feel hands snake around your wasit, realising Lilia has moved to stand behind you, looking over your shoulder at the drawing.

"Continue please" she rests her chin on your shoulder listening to you try and continue with what you where saying. You do try to keep talking but Lilia starts kissing your shoulder, hands gliding across your stomach resting on your hips, pulling you in closer. Somehow, she manages to continue asking questions about your work, asking about the process, the inspiration, showing interest in your work aswell as your body.

You can only take so much. The questions, the attention, the compliments, it all makes you feel light headed and wound up. It makes you turn around and crash your lips against hers, starting to back her up towards the bed, pushing her down.

Lilia looks up with a smug smirk, perched up on her elbows watching you catch your breath, the eye contact makes you shiver and suddenly feel self-concious. She moves on the bed to create space for you to join her, which you do, lying down so you're both facing eachother.

"How are you feeling now?" Lilia whispers, hand reaching out to trace your arm and side. You reach out towards her pulling her up to lean on her elbow.

"Like I need you on top of me" You huff, trying to pull her, but she stays where she is, running a hand along your jaw.

"Are you sure (y/n)? I dont want to push you too much" Lilia pulls her hand away but you grab it before it goes too far.

"I know, but I want you to" You kiss her palm before taking one of her fingers into your mouth. As you slowly suck, you look up at her with pleading eyes. The actions make Lilia's jaw clench, eyes darkening. Realising it's working, you lie down on the pillows, laying your arms up, resting around it. Making Lilia chuckle, she sits up.

"This is quite the view" Lilia moves to sit infront of you, gently guiding your knees apart, shifting to hover above you. Having her this close in this position makes your breath hitch, bottom lip going between your teeth.

"Aw do I make your nervous baby?"

She kisses you, hips pressing down into yours, making you moan at the sensation. She continues kissing you, going to kiss your neck again. She moves the collar of your shirt to find new skin, making you start undoing the buttons of your shirt, she swats your hand away.

"That's my job, Dolcezza" She unbuttons your shirt before pushing it off your shoulders, runs hands up your side, stopping just under your bra, making your back arch.

"Absoluting stunning my love, may I?" Lilia hooks her finger under a bra strap, you node shifting to give her access to the clasp. Lilia takes it off tossing it across the room. Her lips meet yours again as she palms at your chest, making you whine into her mouth, legs tightening around her waist keeping her close.

You roll your hips, she sits back looking at the mess she's turned you into, topless, messy hair, love bites painted across your neck and chest, but what she loves the most is your expression, the heavy eyelids, gaze fulled with lust, pure relatation and arousal. This is exactly how she wanted you, sunken between pillows, relaxed, needy.

"You look so good like this," Lilia ghosts across your lips, pulling back when you lean in. She keeps you like this, right on the precipice of contact, she moves to drift along your neck, breath fanning over you as you shiver. She settles next to your ear as she whispers, "Do you like how I take care of you baby?"

You whine at the words, unable to speak. Lilia moves to face you again holding your chin so you can't look away.

"What else can I do " She cooes placing quick kisses on your lips, "Where do you want me?" You look down, gesturing to your core. Lilia follows your gaze but returns a faux puzzled face, "I don't know what you mean?"

"Yes you do Lilia!" You try to move her hand down but she pulls it away to graze your inner thigh, just off where you need her.

"I can't do anything until you tell me what to do, please baby I want to take care of you" The hand on your inner thigh tightens. Finally you snap out of frustration, hands covering your face as you give her what she wants.

"I need you to fuck me Lilia, please however you want" Your hands are pealed away from your face, Lilia's fingers lacing between yours. She takes in your dishevealed appearance, how you lean forward waiting for her next move.

"That's a good girl", you gasp at the petname and Lilia notices, leaning in to ghost over your lips, "Thats my good girl"

Her lips crash on yours with a new hunger behind them. Teeth clashing, tongues advancing into each other's mouths, making both of you moan at the new territory. Lilia's hand fidgets with the belt loops on your jeans, pulling you closer. Wanting to speed things along, you reach between your bodies, undoing the button and zipper. Before Lilia can fully pull away and make a quick remark, you pull her bottom lip between your teeth, making her shiver for the first time tonight.

She eagerly pulls your jeans and underwear off in one go, the cold air of the room finding your exposed skin, goosebumps covering in its wake. Lilia kisses you once more before moving down your body to rest between your legs. The vulnerability and anticipation battle within you, stuck between rolling your hips in her face and shutting your legs from her, which is met with hands gripping your inner thighs.

"None of that", Lilia looks up at you through heavy eyes as she starts kissing and sucking on the flesh adjacent to your core. Her hand rubs the other thigh, helping to soothe any anxieties you have as she continues her assault on your skin. You gasp when you feel her teeth sink in, imprinting a similar mark on your thigh to the ones decorating your neck and chest. The sting of the bite mixes with the heat in your core, making you feel dizzy, unable to imagine how it gets better than this.

That was when she ran her tongue up your folds. Slow and gentle at first as you adjusted to the feeling, applying more pressure with her tongue alternating between long strips and sucking on your clit, making you arch your back and grip the bedsheets benneth you. You feel yourself tense up, closing in around nothing, making you whine at the emptiness. You grab her shoulders, clawing her to come back up to you. Lilia looks at you with concern, which you quickly resolve with your next request.

"Your hand," you pant, guiding her hand down between you, "I need you inside me," you whisper against her smiling lips. She moves to hover above you again with her hand exploring your core. She keeps her eyes glued to you as she gathers wetness on her fingers, teasing your entrance with her middle fingertip.

"I don't think it's just my fingers you want" Lilia moves so her face is inches from you, filling your eyeline with nothing but her inquisitive face. "I think you just want all my attention. You want to be touched here," She punctuates the last word with two fingers slipping inside you, watching you moan, "but you want me up here too, kissing you, looking at you, talking to you. You're a bit greedy, aren't you?" She starts thrusting her fingers, rocking her hips into you as well. Your legs find her waist again, giving her a better angle to curl her fingers.

"I want to hear you say it baby, say you're greedy"

Your hands fly to her back, scratching into her shoulders, the knot in your stomach tightening as your knuckles turn white around her arms. "I'm greedy, oh god Lilia!" You nearly scream as she adds a third finger and increases the pace to a brutal speed.

"Good girl, you can come now go on baby" Her encouragements are all you need to go over the edge. The climax runs over you, clouding you mind, stilling your body as you gradually come back down to earth. When you open your eyes, Lilia is already heading for the bathroom where she washs her hands and gets a wash cloth. When she comes back, she cleans you up then pulls you back against her chest like how this started on the couch.

"You did so well Dolezza" Lilia runs her hands along your back, feeling you shift against her. You start moving your hand down her body towards her stomach. You go to touch her further but is stopped by her hand moving it back to rest on her chest.

"But I want to-" You start when Lilia kisses you tenderly. "I know you do, but this was about you. I got what I needed, now rest, please baby" She lays her head back against the headboard, smirking.

"And besides, we have plenty of time for that later"

[bunni-v1]

In love with your writing on Lighter ❤️! Have you considered Lighter being with a partner who's quiet during the deed. It's out of habit not because he's not good (cause he's heavenly) so his partner let's him know and now he's got a goal that he just has to achieve. Now he's gonna fuck his partner so good they'll be babbling mess

C'mon Sugar

MDNI

🍓Biting at the bars of my enclosure. I LOVE LIGHTER LORENZ I LOVE HIM AND HE LOVES ME TOO!!!! Wrote most of this in one sitting and don't want to edit it so... lets hope it's not too messy lol. Enjoy little gay people.

TW: NSFW (MDNI); Overstimulation; lowkey mean dom lighter; not edited

Info: NSFW; Lighter x Reader; Fem bodied reader (no pronouns)

Confidence is key, that's something Lighter lives by. If you don't have confidence, you're not going to be able to get what you need done. Half of his success in life is from his inflated sense of confidence and get-it-done attitude. That same confidence translates to the bedroom, naturally. Lighter knows he's a good fuck, he's been told it plenty by previous partners. However, after being with you a few times, that confidence has started to waver.

In his previous relationships, it was easy to get his partners to moan his name, he almost didn't have to think about it. Just a flick of the tongue or a good angle of his hips and his partners were melting like butter. You though... he can't get you to make any sounds. No matter what he does you're near silent. He knows you enjoy everything he does, but your silence makes him think that maybe he's not as good as he thought he was.

One night, after another annoyingly quiet session, he decides he's had enough of worrying about whether he's treating you right or not. Cleaning you up with care, he levels his gaze on you, smiling when your dazed eyes lock with his own. Your smile is appreciative, a reassurance that he's done well by you, but he still can't stop that gnawing doubt in the back of his mind.

"You enjoy yourself, pumpkin?" He purrs lowly.

A big smile lights up your face, and you look cute, "Always, I dunno why you bother asking."

"Well..." He trails off, almost feeling bad for doubting you, especially when you pout at him.

"Well... what?" You urged, stopping him from cleaning you up until you got your answer from him.

A tired sigh tumbles from his mouth, sitting back on the bed, "Y'know... you're... you're real quiet baby. Sometimes it's hard to tell if you like what 'm doing or not."

"Oh." You say shortly, eyebrows raising in surprise, "Well, you don't have to worry about that. I promise you, you're really good. Like, really really good, I just... I get embarrassed making so much noise."

"Embarrassed...? There's nothing to be embarrassed about, 's just you and me, Sugar." He assures with a stupidly attractive grin.

"I know that, I just don't like hearing myself-"

"Well I do, so we're gonna break you of that habit." He scolds, squeezing your ankle lightly as he reaches down to continue cleaning you up.

You raise an eyebrow at him, positively tickled at the declaration, "How do you intend on doing that? It's just what I'm like, hon. It's not like fucking me harder is gonna force noises out of me."

He chuckles, "You wanna bet?"

"I'd put money on it," You shoot back.

It's only when he levels his heated gaze on you that you realize that challenging him right now wasn't the smartest idea. He was settled between your legs, hands already right where they needed to be, all he had to do was toss the rag to the side and he could have his way with you. Of course, he was too sweet to do that to you, so instead, he quietly asked for permission to prove you wrong. You could see the way his dick was already hardening again, excitement and determination shining in those green eyes you love so much.

While you were confident he would end up disappointed in the end, you couldn't say no to another round. He was good after all, and who would blame you for wanting a little more time on the sheets with your very attractive partner. You bite your lip in a smirk, obliging him with the slight spread of your legs. The way his face lights up is humorous, a big grin wide on his face and eyes crinkling with hardly restrained delight.

He sets the rag carefully on the bedside table, fumbling around with another condom, and then his attention is fully on you. Those sturdy hands grab your hips and tug you down the bed until your lower half is fully resting on his thighs. It's like you weigh nothing with how little effort it takes him to get you where he wants you, hands firm and confident in their movements. He guides your legs up, pressing a soft kiss to the juncture of your knee before settling it on his shoulder.

From this angle, there was no hiding from him. He could see everything, and he had total control over it too. Seems he wasn't going to leave it up to chance, he was going to get you to make noise one way or another. You only hope that he won't be too hurt when he can't, you really don't think you're capable of it. Yet, you can't deny him when he's got such a lovesick look on his face. Eyes raking over every part of you with wild hunger, intent on devouring all he can get out of you.

You swallow when his hands come down to rub himself across your wetness, the sensitivity from your earlier session still there. He glided across your folds like nothing, sighing to himself as he worked himself back to attention against you. You enjoy the sight of his member slowly hardening more than you'd like to admit, watching the tip grow more and more red with each shallow thrust of his hips. When he is fully hard again, he stops himself - despite clearly not wanting to - dipping his fingers down into your slick.

You tense at the sensation, which is gone as fast as it comes. Lighter holding his fingers up to the thin crack of moonlight through the window and watching them glimmer. He seems mesmerized as he splits them apart, watching until the thin string of you snaps. The smile that spreads on his face is downright sinful, and it makes you throb in need when he turns it to you.

"Still so wet," He purrs, "Don't worry, we'll put it to good use."

With that declaration, his hands return to grab himself and carefully ease his member back inside. Your plush walls suck him in, having spent the past few hours being molded into his shape, desperate to return to their proper place around him. You take deep breaths, keeping yourself grounded by fisting the bedsheets into your tight grip. He was still ridiculously big, even after having him in you earlier, and you could feel each inch fill you up to the hilt. If you hadn't already been dripping, he might've torn you apart at the seams then and there.

He is aware enough, despite his excitement, to give you a second to calm down. Rough hands rubbing over the tops of your thighs and dips of your hips with love, easing you into relaxation. Only when you stop trying to choke him out with your pussy does he give a tentative thrust. The movement doesn't hurt, though it's quite a bit more... pleasurable from your overstimulation. You give him a tentative nod, which he returns as he readies himself.

You stare at him in confusion when he grabs your hips again, readjusting the angle at which they meet his. Your back arches awkwardly like this, but your pussy is flush against him now. He gives you another look, asking for approval, and when you nod again he hits you with it all at once. His hands practically pick you up and slam you down into him, bodies meeting in a loud wet slap. Then again, and again, and again over and over, nonstop.

Each thrust is deliberate and aimed right at your G-spot, dragging himself against it with purpose. Your poor overstimulated pussy clenches around him, desperate for more but unable to handle what he gives. You can feel each drag of his dick like it's carving itself into you, leaving a crater where it can make itself home whenever Lighter pleases. His veins only make the feeling better, dragging against particularly sensitive parts of you, making you dizzy.

The earlier fuck he gave you is partially to blame for why you're so lightheaded right now, body is already used and exhausted by him. The other half is because he's just so good at taking care of you. He knows just want gets you going, you don't think you need to make noise for him to know that. Not when your eyes flutter to the back of your skull with each thrust. Not when you're trying your very best to milk another orgasm out of him just as quickly as he was you.

The build of your orgasm isn't slow, it is fast and painful, ripping through your body like a gunshot, burning in your veins. Every inch of you is alight with white-hot pleasure as lighter fucks you through it. Your mouth drops open sighs on the edge of your lips. You hear a 'that's it', and your jaw snaps shut in embarrassment before anything can come out. Swallowing down your moan before it can bubble up.

That was not the right move.

Instead of slowing like he normally might, easing you through your orgasm with gentleness, he picks up the pace. Leaning over so you are practically bent in half beneath him, and pressing his face as close to yours as he can, watching you with angry determination.

He pulls himself all the way out, then slams his hips down into yours again. Brutal, harsh, relentless in the way he fucks you now. You spasm around him, body not sure what to do with the overwhelming pleasure it was undergoing. Your eyes look to him like he'll have the answers, but you are only met with that burning desire eating up your reaction. His hands squeeze your hips as if begging you to give him what you want, like a peace offering. It can end anytime you want, but you still can't find it in you to get a sound out with him watching you like that.

So he doesn't stop. He fucks you hard and fast into the sheets, the bedframe slamming into the wall. The wet smacking of skin against skin bouncing off the walls and through your head made it hard to focus on anything other than what was happening to your body. Pussy welcomes each thrust with wild fluttering while your brain and limbs scream at you to stop. You feel your next orgasm build faster than the last one, shattering you into a million pieces as you clench your teeth tight to keep your noises in.

Lighter's smarter this time, though prying your lips apart with his fingers and wedging them between your teeth so you can't close your mouth, ignoring how you bite at them. Embarrassment washes over you at the same time your orgasm does, and you shake your head at him, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet this time. The frown on his face nearly breaks your heart, pressing his forehead to yours in desperation.

"C'mon sugar, just gimme one," He pleads, voice broken and shaky like he might cry, "one little sound, 's all I need. Please? Fer me?"

The whine that rips through your throat surprises both of you, rumbling in your chest and straight to his cock. That one sound was all it took for the wave to come out, sobbing out the overwhelming pleasure taking over your core. Babbling of 'Lighter' and 'please' and 'n' more, can't take it' spills out of you in succession. Incoherent and messy, sounding like a complete moron, but Lighter grins like he's won the lottery. Encouraging you to keep going, holding your jaw open with his thumb while the other hand steadied himself against the bed so he could bully his cock into you.

He fucks you into another orgasm until you are screaming his name so loud the entirety of the outback might've heard you. You are lightheaded when he finally cums, voice raspy and throat aching. Thoroughly fucked stupid when he pulls out and starts to clean you up again. Despite how foggy your head is, you still have it in you to pout when you spot a self satisfied smirk on his face. Giving him a light kick to his shoulder as he tosses the used condom into the trash. He turns to you with a proud smile.

"Are you happy now?" You ask, voice practically gone from its use.

He leans down to kiss you again, "Baby, I'm never gonna get enough of that now."

You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. While you wouldn't admit it right now, far too tired to deal with his smugness, you had to agree. Maybe next time you'd give him what he wants without the fight. Maybe.

[slowlystupendousdelusion]

Lemme vomit up what I remember of the improv night then

-notable mention for DT's 'what on earth have I agreed to' mock fear grimace as he was introduced

Okay so I was kind of expecting 2 or so hours of cloying embarrassment, but turns out he is also good at this? It put me in mind of some of those Radio 4 comedy panel shows which he has done before so idk why I didn't have faith. He didn't really stumble, was funny and generally a good sport.

What I remember:

- little warm up bit before DT joined the stage where the audience do the sound effects for the scene. Audience suggestion for 'location for a date' was (perhaps a bit premature given he wasn't even on stage yet) St James Park. PM & SW decided to interpret this as St James Park of Newcastle United fame

- first bit with them on stage was them telling a story but the person speaking switched as the keyboardist changed who he was pointing at sometimes mid-word. Famous/fictional person selected by the audience was Elon Musk (to DT's evident distaste). Inanimate object chosen was a toilet brush. Story involved Musk using a kitten who has ambitions of becoming a democrat as a toilet brush with mentions of various famous democrats in animal costumes.

- they had a bit with PM & DT where they went through the alphabet and each line started with the next letter. Small object suggested by audience was leprechaun. (It was noted that a leprechaun isn't an object) From this we had Irish accents which I'm not sure I've heard DT do before? Also PM mucked up the alphabet on the second go through which was fun

- a bit where PM had to guess his own occupation as suggested by the audience. (Microsoft font designer who uses bananas from a supermarket called David whilst wearing pink pyjamas). DT brought out another accent for his Bill Gates impression and then thoroughly confused PM by being himself to try and give the name of the supermarket.

- another section with 2 on stage in conversation where every response had to be a question and when they failed they got swapped out. One of them was a priest? Somehow dinosaurs were mentioned? DT did both a Chandler impression and a Joey 'how you doin'?'

- there was a scene (I don't think DT was in this one but was watching from the side) where the audience were asked for a hobby (badminton). I think the keyboardist could tell them to change the response for a better one? Each response somehow got increasingly horny.

- A scene with DT & SW as dentists (suggested by audience) where the genre changed with audience suggestions including: musical (obv we like to start big), tarantino (more American accent!), opera (DT's response: "fuck off!" before going ahead and doing it), David Lynch (more American accent), rock opera finale. AND HE WAS ANNOYINGLY GOOD. What do you mean he can hold some kind of a tune while coming up with lyrics about dentistry that kind of rhyme off the cuff?? Also mad how many innuendos can be applied to dentists. Lots of getting drilled and sucking. I do think we as an audience missed a trick by not shouting out Shakespeare as a genre loud enough though.

-another section where they interviewed a scientist (interested in javelin playing elephants as per audience suggestion) where three of them were doing the responses but one word at a time. DT got a little muddled at one point but endearingly so.

- A bit with DT returning a toaster to the shop (SW), but an audience member had to move them into position. This led to an accordion toaster as the sizes kept changing. Kudos to Nan cause if they had pulled me up on stage to do that I think I would have died on the spot. And I probably would have inadvertently put them into a far awkwarder position than just her kneeling in front of him. Also v brave of him to be up for a random audience member touching him tbh.

- I can't remember the context of this but DT called someone a cunt and this caught SW so offguard that she couldn't stop laughing

-there was a hospital scene similar to the dentist one, but instead of genres changing it was the emotions (including ecstasy, menopausal and melancholy.) DT wasn't involved in this one.

- a scene where each of them was doing the speaking for someone else. I'm not sure I've explained that right but basically when PM was speaking it was SW lipsyncing and when SW was speaking it was DT lipsyncing etc etc. Based on a person being shot at a station waiting for a delayed train to Edinburgh. DT got confused multiple times during this.

- DT & PM were neighbours discussing a fence dispute where some of the lines where picked from a bucket of audience suggestions written in the interval. Ended with "you can't leave this bookshop" but was spoken by PM so didn't really get to see much of a DT reaction to it.

I've definitely forgotten a bunch here so feel free to add stuff!

- 500 miles at the end (which I think went on longer than they were expecting)

[writer-fennec]

The 141 and stationery:

Ghost:

Has a skeleton themed notebook that has clearly seen better days, but it has many tiny stylized mini colored skulls and it was gifted from Soap

Has a bic pen, the orange ones and lost the cap. Is somehow able to finish his pens before losing them and has a box of like 50 bic pens, all arange with blue caps and all in a drawer in his desk

Uses the most basic looking normal black and yellow HB pencils, those in a box oflike 10 at a time you find for half the price in september and almost always finishes his pencils when they are almost still big enough to be used but unusable for his comfort (big hands problems)

To organize his notes he just puts paper scotch over the thing and writes with a pencil what it is. Then when he needs to hand it out he carefully removes it and heands it to Price (sometimes there are slightly ruined edges, but nothing like a paper shredded in half)

Soap

Has at least four notebooks, one for actual work, one for quick sketches, one with which he can go on OPs because its really small and easy to hide in a tac vest and on for journaling or just stupid ideas and reminders

Has some spring pens and some normal ones, has a fountain pen he mainly uses for inking his drawings when he actually puts effort in them, sometimes he just steals some of those he finds on the ground (usually Kyle's), when he goes into an art supply sho he has to stop himself from buying the whole inking section because some of those inkingpens have such small tips that he could draw such small details that he would need a magnifying glass to see them

Has a couple of old but still functioning mecanichal pencils that he loves to this day (neat and precise lines and lineart with no ink) and a whole set of varying hardness (4B to 4H) so he knows how to do his shading pretty well

To organise his notes he uses coloured metal clips, sometimes post-its, usually he categorizes his work by colour of the metal clip+ position of the metal clip (let him ADHD without judging, he is a little undiagnosed baby) and sometimes makes little butterfly origami to pit on the edges in case something is really important or he needs extra instructions on that paper

Gaz:

Has a couple of notebooks, one for work one for personal reminders and stuff like that, usually they are monochrome and colours that are similar (ex turquoise and teal) so he can go around with one or the other and nobody will ask a thing since those colours in different lighting's look similar

Spring pens, normal pens (usually bic) and also some fountain pens are his most used, uses them in different contexts and usually one of the most organised people you can find with his stationary

Has one (1) mechanical pencil that is cheap plastic but surprisingly it matches his notebooks and uses normal HB pencils (sometimes you might find him use IKEA pens and he will deny even knowing that IKEA gives out free pencils) probably has some variability in hardness but just and F and and H1 for the sake of having a different feeling on the paper every once in a while

To organise his notes he uses post it's and coloured semi-trasperent small sticky notes, he is one of the best organised ones and also one of the few actually able to find what he searching for

Price:

Has one BIG notebook where he keeps everything all at once, he can't bother buying the smaller ones (because their surface you can write/£ per surface ratio is not as good) but sometimes he gets a small one to take notes while on an OP

Has one fountain pen for important documents and the rest are plastic transparent bic or other types of normal ink pen, surprisingly has also some water resistant pens

Doesn't even bother with mechanical pencils, good old wood (may or may not have stolen some lf Ghost's pencils), has 2 hardnesses (HB and 2B) he uses them regularly and knows when to use each

Organizer? Price? Yeah, he keeps everything separed in folders in his office and classified inside his mind, that man knows everything in his office by heart

What would you add?

@bone-trash what would you add?

[laswells-ashtray]

This settles it, the only time Graves ever goes to Mexico is to get his brains fucked out of his ears. Cause you bet every point of entry has a mugshot of his smarmy face posted. Both by the Cartels and the Mexican Military.

And it is a damn arms race for Valeria or Alejandro to get to him first. Graves just sits at the closet bar knocking down shot after shot, cause he knows it's only a matter of time. Before he's yanked by his shirt collar or his bitch strap on his vest.

Adler and Kate are scrambling on trying to figure out how Graves is 'banned' from an entire country. Not even questioning why he keeps going back. Graves is a dick it's in his nature to do the thing he's told not to. But the two can't understand How????

It doesn't matter who's hitting it, he's getting spit on at least once. Sometimes he'll get his face licked. Other time his ass will get bitten with such force they break skin and it scars. Both parties want to beat the shit out of him but the desire to fuck him and enrage the other person wins out. He knows he's being used but when someone is stroking his cock with such scorching fury that he knows he's about to be slapped, it makes him cum and he's okay with that.

Graves, above all, is a tart.

He likes getting his cock wet, he likes getting his hole fucked.

He doesn't care if Valeria is grabbing his hair and holding him between her legs so that he can eat her out until he's gasping for breath and his cock is leaking something furious.

Or when Alejandro keeps him pinned to the bed with an elbow between the back of his shoulders and fucks him until he's begging the colonel to stop because he can't cum again, he really fucking can't. He does.

So long as he's getting off, you could hogtie him and use his bruised little arse to sit aplayte of bagels on. He's down either way.

[batsybat91]

Smut! Minors, Do Not Interact!!

CW: Office sex, unsafe sex, sexual frustration

Summary: You're Leon's secretary, and both of you are blue-balled in your office. Leon decides to remedy that today.

Seeing men hard in their pants always gets you riled up. You don't know why it sets you off, but it does. It doesn't happen very often, because you don't have a boyfriend. It's unfortunate that you don't get to experience that thrill; the one you get when you know you're the cause of their erection.

You are a secretary for Leon Kennedy at the DSO. He is the best boss you've ever had - and goddamn, he is sexy. Sometimes, he catches you ogling him, the way you squirm in your seat like you want to jump his bones right there. You've fantasized about Leon in every dirty way possible. It's upsetting that you can't climb him like a tree. The things you would let that man do to you-

God, you're getting yourself horny again. This is the worst part of work. That pressure begins to build between your hips, and it becomes increasingly obvious that you won't be able to focus on work today. This happens every once in a while, when all you can think about is going home to finish yourself off.

Leon brusquely walks out of his office. You suddenly remember a letter someone left for him at your desk, just outside of his office. "Oh, Leon!" you say, voice an octave higher than usual. "I- I have you- a letter for you."

You see it. The rock-hard length of his cock bouncing inside his slacks. "I'm busy!" he snaps at you.

He never snaps at you. But you are too busy staring at his crotch to care. "Fuck," you gasp. "Sorry, Mr. Kennedy."

"Don't call me that!" he groans.

"Sorry!" you squeak out again.

"Stop looking!" he growls.

"I- I'm sorry!" you apologize for the third time.

"Get in my office," he snarls. You can't get up fast enough. Today, you wore a skirt. That means easy access, if he decides to fuck you.

He locks the door behind you, then draws the blinds. There isn't a camera in this office, so you know he's not worried about anyone seeing you.

Lips crash into yours, desperate, hungry, needy. He grinds against you and God- the feeling of his length against your clothed cunt drives you insane.

"You're mine." He kisses your neck, sucking at your oversensitive skin.

"Fuck, yes, Mr. Kennedy, yours," you affirm, drunk on the feeling of his zipper brushing your clit.

"You think I don't see the way you look at me? The hunger in your eyes? The way you squirm in your seat like you can't stand the sight of me?" Leon asks between firey kisses.

"No," you admit. He swipes everything off your desk and lays you back against it. Leon's big hands slip under your skirt to yank your panties to your knees.

"I should have fucked you sooner." He nips your earlobe.

"Yes!" you agree, dazed from the sheer amount of hormones flooding your system.

He unbuttons his slacks, then pulls them down just enough to let his red, angry cock free. You watch it bounce as he jerks his hand over his length once. Pre-cum gathers at the tip, and you damn near lose your mind.

"Leon!" you exclaim. You can't think of anything else to say. He pushes your skirt up, pulling you to the edge of the desk. Then, he is inside of you. One sharp thrust, and he's bottomed out. You want to cry out, but his hand is over your mouth.

"Can't believe you," he says, eyes focused on the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your core. He's never loved a sight so much. "Always making me hard. Fuck! You're beautiful, baby. Just want to sink my teeth into you."

"Leon," you mumble against his hand. His thrusts are erratic, and you're barely able to register what's happening. God, it feels good. You need more. You are ravenous, groping for his collar. You yank him down to your level. Leon's lips meet yours in a bruising kiss as he fucks you.

His thumb comes down to brush your clit, and fireworks explode in the back of your vision. His mouth swallows all your sounds, ensuring no one can hear you.

He is rough. Every snap of his hips against yours makes you want to scream. But he won't let you. Tears pricking at the edge of your vision as he drives into you, you claw at his suit jacket. He breaks the kiss for air, and you immediately move to bury your head against his shoulder. "Mmph!" you moan, muffled by his suit jacket.

"Fuck- you're so tight-" he chokes, panting like a wild animal.

One last thrust is all it takes for the two of you to come together. You are certain tears flow from your eyes now. Not from pain, but from the sheer realization that Leon Kennedy is fucking you. You feel full, even when he pulls out. "Leon," you whine softly. His pleasure drips from you onto his desk, smearing over your thighs.

"I'm taking you to my bed tonight." He presses another searing kiss to your lips as if to seal the promise.

[smellslikechahnspirit]

Hi :) I was wondering if you could do a fic or fake texts (your choice) with a s/o who has really bad mental health and gets angry easily which can lead to a manic episode? Like they start screaming or throwing things, it’s okay if not i love your work sm <33

No one asked, but personally, I have BPD and anger issues, so I know what this is like. Sometimes, when I'm in an episode, I pretend Chan helps me out of it, so writing this was great. Thanks for the request! (If you like reading stuff like this, I wrote a book/fanfic called Time Heals Everything. I discuss topics like this plus more. In part 2 of the book, it becomes even more heavy. Maybe check it out? It's on my Masterlist!)

A/N: To anyone reading this, know you're not alone. Try talking to friends about how you feel. It truly can take the pressure off of it sometimes. If you don't want to do that, imagine how Chan (or any SKZ member) would help you through these though times! Delulu is sometimes the solulu. Disclaimer: Not all the time of course. Remind yourself of what's real, and even if you like imagining, acknowledge it's just a cooping mechanism.

Bruises 🕸🤍

[He finds you while having a manic episode]

Bang Chan x Reader

🕸🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!

THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL.

[4:10 PM]

Work was too much today. You were so pissed off at litterly everything. It's like you were cursed or something. Nothing seemed to work out. You decided to go home early; told your boss you were sick.

When u got home you felt empty. Suddenly the hectic environment was the complete opposite. Silence. No one was home. As suppose to normal I guess since your boyfriend wouldn't be home for a while either way. But this peace, this nothingness...it was nice but...it gave u space to think. Maybe a little too much space to think. You started spiralling. Overthinking about complete nonsense.

A few hours passed by. You sat in the corner of the room next to the couch. You were nearing the end of an episode.

Knees up against your chest. A tear felt from your numb expressionless face. Staring blankly ahead. Your eyes were bloodshot due to crying so much. You got so angry at yourself in these last few hours, you needed relief, so you...hit yourself.

You promised you'd call Chris if your episodes got bad, but you simply didn't feel like it.

It wasn't too bad this time, really, just a few tiny bruises appeared on your thighs...oh fuck. Maybe it was worse then you thought. Hopefully they wouldn't get even more visible...

[10:33 PM]

"Honey I'm home!", Chris yelled. Dropping his bag, throwing his zip-up hoodie on the chair and tossing his keys on the table. Not getting a response made him wonder if you maybe just went to sleep already. But you would've left the lights on for him, like you always do. No, something was definitely off.

The curtains were still open. The only light coming through was from the moon. It was raining, and that was the only sound he heard. Just the heavy drops pouring on the glass.

Shaking off some of the water still on his hair, he walked over to the couch. His heart stopped for a second, finally noticing you.

"Baby, what are you- are you okay?". Sitting down next to you trying to make sense of the situation that had seemed to come out of nowhere to him. "Baby please answer me? Did something happen?".

You loved him for his protectiveness and how much he loved and cared for you...but you simply couldn't handle anything right now. "Please just leave me alone for a bit Chris.", you said soflty, staring at the wet window, avoiding eye contact at all cost.

"Alone? You think I can let you alone when you're like this? That wouldn't feel right baby, you know I can't do that. You are my everything...", he said. "Just please, leave me for a bit.", you said again with an undertone of violence this time but still soft.

"Y/n...come on let me hel-", he said while pulling your arm a bit trying to lift you up from the cold floor. "I SAID LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, GOD FOR FUCK SAKES HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO ASK YOU?", you yelled out fully fuming with anger, despite his 'good heartedness'.

He was shocked. Not knowing why you were suddenly screaming at him. "Don't yell y/n...", he said as he got up and took a step back. "Look if you want space, I'll give it to you, but at least let me know why. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?", he asked calmly trying to calm you down also. That didn't work though, he only made it worse.

"NOT EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS ABOUT YOU GOSH, UHG.", you said without even thinking. At this point you were just yelling out mean things you didn't even mean. "I GET IT, YOUR PERFECT LITTLE LIFE HAS A FLAW IN IT, AKA ME, WELL SORRY OKAY!".

He just stood there mind blown at the irrelevant statements that were thrown at him all of a sudden. Staying silent, trying not to yell back. Then out of no where it hit him...maybe you were having an episode? You hadn't had one in a good few weeks. But lately he has been a little MIA, so he maybe didn't notice as much...

"Baby, listen to me. You're having an episode, I get it. I will just let you be for a bit, to calm yourself down. I'll be in my room if you're ready, okay?", he said, trying to give you time to breath and slow your heart rate back down.

"NO, YOU'RE NOT HEARING ME! MAYBE THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.", you yelled again. Then throwing your glass of water onto the wall right next to him.

He dodged the glass just in time. Both of you completely shocked at what just happened. You instantly came to your senses, hoping he wasn't hurt.

"Baby baby baby, no no, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to do that, I'm so sorry...fuck", you said as you ran towards him, checking if he was truly okay. He stayed quiet for the first few seconds, still processing your previous actions.

"I'm fine...but you're not baby. These anger issues...they're getting out of hand. You need help.", he said squeezing your hand. He knew you didn't mean to hurt him, or say all those things before. But he knew he needed to act fast.

"I know you don't want help, but this can be dangerous if untreated." You nodded. Crying due to the shock of almost injuring him. You would've never forgiven yourself for that. "I know...but I don't want to talk to other people about my issues.", you said to him as you closed your eyes for a few seconds, scared of letting other people in.

"I understand. Why not talk to me then huh? Even if it's hard?", he suggested. You nodded in agreement again. "No y/n, I mean it. Last time you also said you'd call me, but you never do. You gotta talk to me sweets, just try. Not just for me, but for yourself. If you don't, I'll have to call the doctors.", he said scaring you off a little, just to point out how serious he was. "No! I don't need them. I'll call you, I promise!".

He looked at you trying to figure out the amount of truth behind your words. "Hmhm, okay then. Promise.", he said, holding out his pinkie so you could swear on it. Reaching out your hand to complete the promise he noticed...some red marks on you knuckles.

Taking your hand in his, studying the spots. "What happend?", he asked with angry eyes. Just because he was worried as fuck about you, again. "I...a few hours ago I....". Without finishing you sentence you looked down at your legs.

He followed your gaze and crouched down to his knees. Taking in this new sight as a tear slipped from his waterline. "Y/n.", not even being able to finish what he was gonna say. His hand gliding over your bruises. A sudden hiss from you and he was back on his feet, so he could face you again.

"I don't think I have another choice, but to call someone about this baby, this is far beyond getting out of hand." You took his face in your hands. "But you promised...", you replied, not seeming to understand the worry you give him by doing these things.

"I can't watch you do this to yourself and not help you for real. How about...we just call for one session? I'll go with you. Maybe we could just ask for medication? Please Y/n, for me? It's gonna be fine. Just one session, and maybe some pills will help you with your extreme mood swings. All I want is for you to be safe.", he spoke.

You gave him a nod again. Both exhausted from previous events, now falling in each others arms.

"Okay."

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

© 2022-2025, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[aurumacadicus]

Idk I just love when Tony is permanently hurt. Because the thing is. Tony would hate feeling like a burden if he was disabled in any way, but especially if it was visible. But if Steve loves someone, he could never, ever see them as a burden. Tony would avoid everyone's help, but Steve doesn't see what he's doing as "help" the way Tony understands it: It is an honor to Steve to be able to make sure the people he loves have easier lives. Tony can't manage the energy to transfer himself from chair to bed? Steve is genuinely happy to pull the sheets back so Tony doesn't have to struggle with them, carefully lift him onto the bed, and then gently tuck him in. And he does it in a way where 'you didn't have to do that' gets stuck in Tony's throat, because obviously he didn't have to do any of that. He could have just done a simple lift from wheelchair to bed. Doing all the extra was a choice that he didn't even hesitate to make.

Because Steve's way of showing he loves them is in acts of service. Sometimes words fail him. Sometimes his partners are prickly. But that doesn't stop him from setting a sandwich down next to them even when they're having an argument. They might go to bed angry, but he'll still put a glass of water on the other nightstand because he knows they wake up thirsty around two in the morning. They could be giving each other the silent treatment, but he'll still bring home a coffee for them after his run. Because he doesn't have to do any of it. But he loves them enough that it's not even a conscious choice to do things for them. He loves them and wants to make their lives easier. So of course he'd just... do that. Without having to be asked and without any fanfare at all.