#thanks for reading this. and any of these. and anything I write.

[promptedwordsmith]

Please mayhaps could you write something cute of Mc/Reader falling asleep while laying on their chest listening to their heartbeat 😭

inspired by this dialogue from Zayne I just got 🙈

Love your writing btw, I binge read all your stuff earlier…😭

Aww thank you!

Caleb

The night was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city in the distance. The stars stretched endlessly above you, faint against the glow of streetlights filtering through the window. The air was cool, a soft breeze shifting the curtains, but the warmth of Caleb beside you made the world feel impossibly small, like the only thing that mattered was the space between you.

You hadn’t meant to stay this late.

It had started with a casual visit—an excuse, really. Just an evening spent together after days of missing each other between missions and responsibilities. You had barely managed to steal moments alone lately, both of you too caught up in the demands of your work, your Evols, your duties. And now, here you were, hours later, lying on his couch, wrapped up in his presence as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Caleb sat against the cushions, his black and orange jacket tossed somewhere over the armrest, leaving him in just a simple t-shirt. He had one arm resting lazily behind his head, the other draped across your back. Your body was half on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest, rising and falling with each steady breath he took.

The sound of his heartbeat filled your ears.

Strong. Constant. Safe.

You hadn’t planned on falling asleep like this. But after everything—after the exhaustion, the weeks of pushing forward without rest—this felt… inevitable. Like gravity pulling you down.

Caleb hadn’t moved much since you’d settled there, just enough to shift comfortably, to make sure you had the space to breathe. His fingers ghosted over your back, absentminded, soothing. He wasn’t speaking, but he didn’t need to. The warmth of his body, the solid presence of him beneath you—it was enough.

You felt his chest rumble slightly as he let out a breath, a soft chuckle you almost missed.

"Didn’t think you’d get this comfortable with me so soon."

You made a small noise in protest but didn’t lift your head. It was too much effort, and you were too content.

His fingers brushed against the curve of your shoulder, warm and slow. "Not that I mind," he murmured.

You sighed, shifting just slightly, letting your body mold more against his. “M’not comfortable,” you mumbled sleepily, words muffled against his shirt.

"Oh?" Amusement colored his voice.

"M’just… too tired to move."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Right. That’s it."

You didn’t argue. You barely had the energy to think, much less banter with him. The steady thump-thump of his heart was lulling you under, making it hard to focus on anything but the warmth beneath your fingertips.

A few minutes passed in silence, peaceful and undisturbed. Caleb wasn’t one to stay still for long, not with the kind of life he led, but right now, he hadn’t moved an inch. Maybe he didn’t want to wake you. Maybe he just liked this as much as you did.

And then, in a voice quieter than before, he spoke again.

"Feels nice."

You made a questioning sound, but you didn’t open your eyes.

His fingers traced a slow, lazy path down your back. "Having you here like this."

Your heart skipped.

It wasn’t like Caleb to say things outright. Not when it came to feelings, anyway. He showed his affection in actions—through protection, through thoughtfulness, through every quiet way he looked after you. But every now and then, he let things slip.

And for some reason, this moment felt more intimate than any of the ones before.

You swallowed, suddenly more aware of how close you were. His heartbeat, still steady beneath your ear, was the only thing grounding you.

You exhaled. "I like it too."

His hand stilled for half a second, then continued its slow, absentminded movements.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, saying nothing at all.

Time didn’t matter.

The world outside didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the way his heart beat for you, with you.

And eventually, before you even realized it, you drifted into sleep, safe in his arms.

Caleb had lost count of how long he’d been lying there, unmoving, just watching you.

You had fallen asleep so easily against him, so naturally, as if you had always belonged there. Your breaths were soft, steady, barely more than a whisper against his skin. And your weight—light but present—felt right.

He exhaled, staring at the ceiling.

He should’ve moved. He should’ve carried you to bed, tucked you in properly, maybe even left the room to give you space.

But he didn’t.

Because some part of him—some deep, selfish part—couldn’t bring himself to let go.

His arms tightened around you, just slightly. He felt the way you shifted in response, curling closer in your sleep, like even unconscious, you knew you were safe with him.

That did something to him.

He had spent so long protecting you, making sure you were okay, keeping his distance where he thought you needed it. But now, here you were—sleeping soundly on his chest, trusting him without hesitation.

And it undid him.

His fingers traced absent patterns against your back, slow, thoughtful. He didn’t know if you’d even remember this in the morning, if you’d be embarrassed, if you’d pull away and act like it hadn’t happened. But he’d remember.

He’d remember the way your breathing synced with his, the way your body had fit against him like it was meant to be there. He’d remember the warmth of you, the way you had melted into him without fear.

And, more than anything, he’d remember the moment he realized—he never wanted this to end.

He exhaled, tilting his head just enough to press the lightest of kisses against your hair. A whisper of a touch, something you wouldn’t feel, something just for him.

"Sleep well," he murmured against your temple. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

And for once, he truly meant it.

Rafayel

Rafayel always ran a little warmer than most, his body heat like an ember refusing to die out. It was comforting in a way that made it difficult to resist curling up beside him, though you rarely admitted that out loud. He’d be insufferable if you did, teasing you with that lazy grin, calling you clingy despite the fact that he was the one who draped himself over you like a heavy blanket more often than not.

Tonight was no different.

It had been a long day—one of those days where exhaustion settled into your bones like a permanent weight. The kind of day where even lifting a hand to wave away Rafayel’s usual antics felt like too much effort. You had barely managed to shuffle into his home, kicking off your shoes in a haphazard heap by the door before collapsing onto his couch without so much as a greeting.

Rafayel, ever the dramatic one, had let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down beside you, slouching against the cushions as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “You look like you’ve fought an entire army and lost.”

You hummed in response, not even bothering to open your eyes.

That wasn’t enough for him, of course. He prodded your arm with a single finger, then two, then your cheek, then your forehead—until you swatted weakly at his hand, cracking one eye open to glare at him.

“If you don’t let me rest, I’ll—”

“What?” He smirked, all sharp teeth and amusement. “Throw me out? I live here.”

You groaned, rolling onto your side to put your back to him, but it was no use. Rafayel was persistent when he wanted to be. His arm slung itself over your waist, not quite pulling you in, but making sure you couldn’t wriggle away either.

“Stay up with me,” he murmured.

“No.”

“Rude.”

You huffed a small laugh, but the exhaustion was winning. You felt the weight of his arm shift slightly, and before you knew it, he was adjusting, coaxing you effortlessly into his embrace as if it was second nature.

You barely resisted.

His chest was warm beneath your cheek, rising and falling in an easy rhythm, his heartbeat a steady thump-thump against your ear. You listened without thinking, without meaning to, letting the sound ground you in a way that nothing else could.

“Comfortable?” Rafayel’s voice was softer now, lacking his usual teasing lilt.

You made a vague sound of agreement, nuzzling just a little closer.

His fingers skimmed lightly over your back, absentmindedly tracing little shapes into your shirt. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Mhm.”

“You weren’t supposed to agree.”

You smiled sleepily.

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t empty. It was full of the warmth of his body, the scent of sea breeze and something faintly sweet, the quiet lull of his breathing.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

You wondered if he even realized how soothing it was. If he knew how easily he could lull you to sleep just by being there.

His hand stilled against your back, and for a moment, you thought maybe he had fallen asleep too. But then, his voice—softer now, barely above a whisper—broke the silence.

“You do this a lot.”

You hummed, half-asleep already. “Do what?”

“Listen to my heartbeat.”

Your eyes cracked open just enough to peek up at him, but his expression was unreadable in the dim light. His gaze was focused on the ceiling, his lips pressed together in quiet contemplation.

You shrugged, your fingers absentmindedly curling into the fabric of his shirt. “It’s… nice.”

Rafayel let out a small breath of amusement, though there was something thoughtful in the way he tightened his grip around you, as if trying to pull you just a little closer. “I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before.”

You blinked sleepily. “Really?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering it. “Most people don’t get close enough to notice.”

That made sense, you supposed. Rafayel was not an easy person to get close to. He could charm his way into any room, could captivate entire crowds with his talent and confidence—but when it came to true closeness, true intimacy, he chose his moments carefully. He built walls around himself, kept his distance from the world even as he stood in its spotlight.

But with you…

You weren’t entirely sure when it had changed. When the teasing had shifted into something softer, something real. When he had stopped keeping you at arm’s length.

Maybe it had been gradual, like the way the tide reshapes the shore over time.

Or maybe it had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.

His fingers resumed their absentminded tracing against your back. “Does it make you feel safe?”

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Yeah.”

Rafayel exhaled, a breath that sounded far too heavy for such a simple conversation. But he didn’t say anything else.

His heartbeat continued its steady rhythm beneath your ear.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

You sighed, letting your eyes drift shut again. Sleep pulled at you like a tide, warm and steady.

You didn’t know how long you lay there, tangled up in each other, before Rafayel finally spoke again, voice so quiet you almost thought you imagined it.

“���Good.”

And then, as if nothing had happened, his fingers continued their slow, lazy patterns against your back, lulling you further into sleep.

The last thing you felt before drifting off completely was the faintest press of lips against the top of your head.

Rafayel didn’t say anything else.

He didn’t need to.

Sylus

The night was warm, the kind of heat that settled under your skin and refused to let go. The air carried the faint scent of rain from earlier, mixing with the smoky tang of the fire burning low in Sylus’ study. You had been sprawled across the couch for what felt like hours, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, but no matter what you did, rest wouldn’t come.

You huffed, rolling onto your stomach, cheek pressing into the cushion. Across the room, Sylus sat at his desk, flipping through a dossier with the kind of effortless focus that made you want to be a distraction. He had been watching you from the corner of his eye for a while now, though he hadn’t said anything—probably waiting for you to admit defeat first.

"You’re brooding," he finally murmured, flipping another page.

You groaned. "I don’t brood."

His lips curled slightly, but he didn’t look up. "You do when you don’t get your way."

Your head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

He turned a page with an infuriating level of ease. Smug bastard.

"You heard me," he mused. "Something’s bothering you. You don’t want to admit it, but you also want me to figure it out for you. You’re restless, and I don’t like it."

You scoffed, pushing yourself up. "You don’t like it? Oh no, whatever shall I do?"

Sylus sighed, finally looking up at you, his crimson gaze dark and knowing. "Come here."

You sat up fully, arms crossing over your chest. "No."

His expression didn’t change, but you saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes. "No?"

You smirked, lifting your chin. "You want me? You come get me."

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if weighing his options. Then, without warning, he moved.

You barely had time to react before a shadow loomed over you, arms slipping around you with the kind of effortless strength that made resistance seem laughable.

"Sylus!" you yelped, squirming as he lifted you off the couch like you weighed nothing.

"Problem, kitten?" he murmured, the warmth of his breath brushing against your temple as he adjusted you against his chest.

You kicked your feet, half-heartedly shoving at his shoulder, but he didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he sank back into his chair, pulling you down with him, settling you against him.

Your back rested against his chest, his arms lazily draped around your waist, as if holding you there was the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re ridiculous," you grumbled.

"And yet," he mused, resting his chin lightly against the top of your head, "you always end up right where I want you."

You huffed, about to argue, but then—you heard it.

The steady, unshaken rhythm of his heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Slow. Certain. Unyielding.

For a moment, you forgot why you had been restless in the first place. The world outside faded, the tension in your limbs melting into the warmth of his body. His heartbeat filled the silence, a constant, grounding sound that made everything else feel so small.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—his warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back, the way his fingers had started tracing small, absentminded circles against your ribs.

"You’re listening," he murmured, voice quieter now.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

His heartbeat was so steady, so sure. A deep, resounding thing that made you realize just how erratic your own had been all night. But now… now you were matching him, falling into the rhythm of him.

A breath.

A beat.

A moment.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve, gripping just a little tighter.

"...You’re annoying," you mumbled.

Sylus huffed a quiet laugh, his fingers slipping up to cup your jaw, tilting your face just enough for your eyes to meet his. "And you’re a brat," he murmured.

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Because his gaze wasn’t teasing anymore. It was soft. Intense in a way that made your stomach twist and your pulse stutter, despite the slow, grounding rhythm of his own beneath you.

"...Don’t do that again," he said after a moment.

Your brow furrowed slightly. "Do what?"

"Try to deal with things on your own when you don’t have to." His voice was low, serious. Final.

You swallowed hard.

Sylus was not a man who needed anyone. He was self-sufficient, independent, a lone wolf who had built an empire from the shadows. But with you, he let himself be different.

And this? This was him asking you to do the same.

You let out a slow breath, turning your face back into his chest. His heartbeat was still there, still steady, still constant.

Your fingers loosened against his sleeve, your grip no longer desperate, but something else. Something trusting.

"...Okay," you whispered.

Sylus let out a quiet hum, satisfied with your answer. His arm tightened just slightly around you, and for the first time that night, you weren’t restless anymore.

You listened.

To the crackling fire. To the distant city.

To him.

To his heartbeat.

And slowly, carefully—you matched it.

Xavier

The steady rhythm of Xavier’s heartbeat was the only sound you could focus on. A soft, constant thump-thump, thump-thump beneath your ear, grounding and unwavering. It was late—too late—but exhaustion had long since settled into your bones, making your eyelids heavy.

You hadn’t meant to end up like this, curled against him with your cheek resting over his chest, legs tangled loosely. It had started as a simple evening together, the two of you stretched out on the couch, basking in the rare quiet. The mission earlier had been grueling—physically and mentally draining—and you had been too sore to move much, content just to exist in Xavier’s presence.

He had been the one to pull you close, an arm draped lazily around your waist as if it was second nature. And now, as you lay against him, your body melting into the warmth of his own, you realized how easy this felt.

His fingers traced light, absent-minded patterns against your back, the touch featherlight, almost reverent. You could feel his breath ruffle your hair every now and then, slow and even. The city lights outside cast a faint glow across the room, flickering against the walls, but neither of you made a move to turn on the lamp.

"You're quiet," Xavier murmured. His voice was deep, a little rough, the kind of tone that made something inside you settle. "Tired?"

You hummed in response, nuzzling just slightly into his chest. "Mm. Comfy."

A soft chuckle rumbled beneath you, and you could feel his amusement more than you could hear it. "So, you're just using me as a pillow, then?"

You smirked but didn’t open your eyes. "You make a good one."

Xavier huffed, but his hand on your back didn't stop its slow, lazy movements. "Lucky me."

There was no teasing in his voice, though—just something warm, something fond.

It wasn’t often that you got to be like this with him. Unrushed. No missions, no battle wounds, no chaos pulling you in opposite directions. Just you and him, together.

And God, it felt good.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek, a quiet, comforting rhythm that made the exhaustion settle even deeper in your body.

Xavier didn’t push you to stay awake, didn’t urge you into conversation. He just let you rest.

And maybe that was what made it so easy to finally let yourself relax.

At some point, you started drifting.

It was slow, like sinking into warm water, the world softening around the edges. You could still hear him breathing, still feel the rise and fall of his chest, but everything was beginning to feel lighter.

And then—

A soft voice, close. "You gonna fall asleep on me?"

You made a vague noise of acknowledgment but didn’t move.

Another chuckle. "That’s a yes."

You felt him shift slightly, adjusting his hold on you, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, as if anchoring you to him.

"You’re warm," you muttered, your voice sluggish with exhaustion.

Xavier huffed out a breath. "You're barely awake and that's what you choose to say?"

You smiled against his shirt. "Mhm."

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, softer—quieter—"Good."

You might have imagined it, but his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair. A touch so light it almost wasn’t there at all.

You sighed, content, before finally letting yourself fall.

When you woke up, you weren’t sure how long you had been asleep.

The first thing you noticed was that you were still on Xavier’s chest, still curled up against him like you had never moved. The second thing you noticed was that he hadn't moved either.

His arms were still wrapped around you, one hand resting at your lower back, the other still tangled lightly in your hair. His breathing was deep and even, but you weren’t sure if he was actually asleep or just resting.

You shifted slightly, tilting your head to glance up at him, and—

He was awake.

His blue eyes, always sharp and focused, were soft as they met yours. There was no teasing smirk, no witty remark. Just quiet warmth, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

"Morning," he murmured.

You blinked, still groggy. "Is it?"

A small, amused huff. "No. But you’ve been out for a while."

You exhaled, stretching slightly but making no effort to move away. "Why didn’t you wake me?"

Xavier’s fingers ghosted against your back again, tracing idle shapes. "Because you looked peaceful."

You stared at him for a moment, then rested your head back against his chest. "...Still comfy."

This time, he laughed—a soft, real laugh, not one of his usual teasing chuckles.

"You just gonna stay here forever, then?"

You hummed. "Might."

His heartbeat was still steady beneath your ear, his warmth still pulling you under. And God, if it was up to you, you wouldn’t move at all.

You must have fallen asleep again, because when you woke up next, the lights outside had shifted. The city was still glowing, but the colors were different—softer, cooler, as if the night had settled deeper.

You yawned, stretching slightly before blinking up at Xavier again. He was asleep now, his face more relaxed than you had ever seen it.

And something about that made you pause.

Xavier never truly let his guard down. Even when he was exhausted, even when he was resting, there was always something about him that remained sharp. Always aware, always prepared for whatever came next.

But right now?

Right now, he was peaceful. His lips were slightly parted, his expression free of tension, his breathing slow and even.

And you realized, with a quiet pang in your chest, that he had fallen asleep because he trusted you.

Carefully, hesitantly, you lifted a hand to brush a strand of silver hair from his forehead. Your fingers barely grazed his skin, but he didn’t stir.

You swallowed, something unspoken tightening in your throat.

You were safe with him.

And maybe—just maybe—he was safe with you, too.

You smiled, small but genuine, before settling back against him.

"Sleep well, Xavier," you whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear you.

Then, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat, you let yourself drift off once more.

Zayne

The world outside had slipped into an almost unnatural silence, the kind that only seemed to happen in the late hours of the night when everything around you had finally fallen still. The air was crisp and cool, but inside, the warmth of the apartment wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You had spent the evening together—dinner, quiet conversation, and some small talk that had faded into comfortable silence. Zayne’s usual stoic nature had softened somewhat, allowing you a glimpse of the ease he usually kept hidden behind the layers of his professionalism.

The clock on the wall ticked slowly as you settled beside him on the couch. Zayne sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, his back straight despite the fact that he had obviously spent long hours at work. His three-piece suit was loosened now—the jacket discarded, the top button of his shirt undone, and his glasses resting casually on the coffee table in front of him.

You noticed the tension in his shoulders, how he unconsciously worked his jaw, as if the stress of the day was still weighing heavily on him. Even after everything he had done, the hours he had put in, he still couldn’t seem to let go.

Without a word, you shifted closer, your body naturally gravitating toward his warmth. Zayne didn’t seem to notice at first, absorbed in his own thoughts, but when you rested your head gently against his chest, you felt him pause.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet in the room was broken only by the soft hum of the city in the distance and the low sound of Zayne’s breathing.

Then, you heard it.

Thud-thud.

His heartbeat.

Slow, steady, and constant.

It was like a pulse that reverberated through his body, steadying your own. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it, how much you needed to hear it, until now. There was something about the sound of his heartbeat—something reassuring. Something grounding.

Zayne shifted, his hand slowly moving to your back, his touch light and hesitant at first, as though unsure whether he should be the one to initiate any sort of contact. But when he felt you settle against him, the tension in his fingers eased.

“You’re tired,” he whispered softly, his voice low and warm.

You hummed in response, not sure if you wanted to admit how exhausted you truly were.

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Zayne’s hand moved slightly, his fingers brushing gently against your back, tracing light patterns across your shirt. There was no hurry in his movements—no urgency, just a simple, soft touch that seemed to say more than words ever could. The rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear grew louder, the thudding echoing in your mind as you closed your eyes, allowing it to lull you further into the moment.

His fingers brushed the nape of your neck, the motion tender, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the warmth of his touch in places you didn’t know you’d been longing for. The affection in his actions, the unspoken connection between you, was enough to make you feel more at ease than you ever had before.

Zayne was never one to show too much emotion, at least not outwardly. His professional demeanor kept him composed, distant even when he cared deeply. But in moments like this, where the world outside faded into a blur, it was as though his true self could breathe, and you could feel the softness beneath the armor he wore so often.

Thud-thud.

It was so constant, so unchanging. A reminder that no matter what the day had thrown at either of you, here, in this moment, things were calm. You were safe.

You pressed your ear a little closer to his chest, your cheek resting on the fabric of his shirt. The steady beat of his heart was becoming something you could depend on, something more constant than the passage of time.

“I’ve got you,” he said after a long pause, and even though it was a simple statement, it was one that carried the weight of his every unspoken promise.

You felt his hand move up, brushing softly through your hair, the action slow and deliberate. It wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t forceful. It was just him, being present. Being there.

“I know,” you whispered back.

The room was so still, so quiet. Zayne didn’t speak again. He didn’t need to. His presence, his heartbeat, was enough to keep you tethered to the moment, to him.

You allowed yourself to settle even further, your exhaustion beginning to take hold in a deeper way now. But there was something else there too—a feeling of peace, of contentment that you hadn’t realized you were craving. His touch was the anchor that kept you from drifting into sleep completely.

When you let your eyes fall shut, the warmth of his body against yours seemed to blanket you in comfort. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the subtle movement of his body, and the weight of his hand against your back. Everything about him—the rhythm of his heart, the quiet of his breathing, the soothing motions of his hand—wrapped you in something that felt like home.

“Stay with me for a little longer,” Zayne murmured, his voice a soft plea in the dim light of the room.

You didn’t answer immediately, simply nuzzling closer, breathing in the familiar scent of him—clean, calm, and grounded.

There was no rush. No need to go anywhere.

It was just you and him.

The thud of his heartbeat was all you needed. It was enough to lull you deeper into sleep, into dreams where his presence remained close.

Thud-thud.

The rhythm of his heart.

And in that moment, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[mattnottrecs]

good fucking morning to me and everyone else reading this masterpiece, because my humor is already on point after this 😼

theo and mattheo were sprawled on the couch next to each other, passing a joint between them. mattheo was completely naked and theo only had his concert tank top on - a tight and cropped little black thing that perfectly showed off the lean muscles of his torso. their legs were spread, mattheo's right one thrown over theo's left thigh, and their hands were on each other's cocks.

first of all, i’m imagining this and let me tell you, what a good image my brain made me see, thank you for that. second of all, i was expecting everything but not this (kinda surprised, but i’m not complaining at all). in fact, this just made more 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ than anything I NEED TO SEE THIS

"baaaaby," mattheo drawled, giving you a stupidly adorable grin and extending an arm towards you, making a grabby hand in your direction.

i just came to the conclusion that this reader lives my dream life, and now i’m proud of her but jealous :( i want mattheo to call me baby while he’s being taking care off :’)

they exchanged a look and simultaneously dropped their hands from their cocks.

theo's lips were parted, and mattheo was wetting his, taking shallow breaths through his mouth.

you write so well that i could totally see everything happening in my mind. please, this is so so so well executed 😫

your tongue swirled around, gathering his slickness, and you pulled away enough to spit it back, your fingers spreading the liquid along his entire length before diving back in.

she’s having her best meal and i’m here rotting in my bed, reading about her while she executes my dream, but it’s okay because it’s kira’s writing, so i can experience a part of it myself 😤

— pause because i need to talk about the smut; genuinely, i forgot to take screenshots of my favorite parts because everything was so fucking good. i was reading and squeezing my legs the entire time. the way they grabbed the reader’s hair and squeezed her throat had me BAWLING MY EYES OUT, and i was drooling because fuck you, the imagery is fucking perfect. i need both so bad

they were now lazily and sloppily making out, catching their own breaths after their intense orgasms.

his thumb rubbing soft circles on the flushed skin. they were adorable like that, and truthfully, you could watch them for hours.

they’re adorable, but i lowkey need to be included 👩‍💼

but you still had your arousal unattended to. both of them shifted their attention when you cleared your throat, identical smirks appearing on their lips when they saw your raised eyebrow. you definitely weren't leaving the dressing room any time soon.

kira, you CANNOT leave and leave me here. you better do something right NOW.

anyway (i’m mad) BUT THIS WAS SO GOOD, need them need them need them need them need them need them need them 😔😡

⋆౨ৎ bassist!reader helps drummer!mattheo and lead singer!theo unwind after a show

nav // aus / band au // more

finally writing for this au. couldn’t get this out of my head for a while now, and it’s also my first time properly writing a threesome of any kind, so hopefully you enjoy <3

warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use, oral threesome, blowjob turned rough, throat bulge, gagging, some spitting, masturbation (m receiving), mutual masturbation (m x m), bi mattheodore, praise, cursing

lorenzo went off somewhere again – probably to the tour bus to have fun with another groupie. you were just a little miffed about that, because you wanted to get some, enzo was the first to volunteer before the other two could get a word in, and now he was nowhere to be seen. you couldn’t be too mad at him, though – he’d always been a lighthead, in more ways than one.

you walked into your shared dressing room and were immediately greeted by a sight that wasn’t a surprise, yet never failed to amuse you. theo and mattheo were sprawled on the couch next to each other, passing a joint between them. mattheo was completely naked and theo only had his concert tank top on – a tight and cropped little black thing that perfectly showed off the lean muscles of his torso. their legs were spread, mattheo’s right one thrown over theo’s left thigh, and their hands were on each other’s cocks.

they lazily jerked each other off, unhurried and completely relaxed, the weed seemingly taking effect by that point. once the door behind you closed, both of them looked at you with cheeky, knowing smirks on their faces. theo blew out a small whiff of smoke and put out the joint against the table next to the couch, leaning further back into the plush surface.

"baaaaby," mattheo drawled, giving you a stupidly adorable grin and extending an arm towards you, making a grabby hand in your direction. you chuckled, shaking your head, and made a few slow steps towards the boys. they didn’t even think of stopping what they were doing, their hands still moving up and down on each other’s hard and, as you could notice under the dim lighting of the room, dripping cocks. you knew that they got especially horny under the influence, which amused you even more, but also gave you a perfect idea.

without a word, you knelt on the floor in front of them, and they perked up a bit, though their poses were still as relaxed as ever. they exchanged a look and simultaneously dropped their hands from their cocks. mattheo put his by his sides on the couch, and theo rested one on his stomach, the other one ending up on mattheo’s thigh. both of them gazed at you with as much hunger as their glassy eyes and widened pupils allowed; theo’s lips were parted, and mattheo was wetting his, taking shallow breaths through his mouth.

"cazzo, principessa… come sei dolce," theo murmured, a content smile quirking up his lips as your hands started kneading their thighs, approaching their aching cocks inch by inch. mattheo hummed in agreement, all of you having gotten used to theo’s italian by now and even starting to understand some stuff.

"you’re dolce," you answered, a teasing lilt to your voice, and theo chuckled in response, undoubtedly at your accent. his chuckle stuttered, turning into a low moan as your hands finally wrapped around their lengths, mattheo’s grunt joining him with more volume.

you didn’t spend too much time jerking them off since they did a pretty good job on that themselves – by the amount of precum leaking from their tips you could tell it wouldn’t take them too long to cum, and you wanted a taste before that happened. you scooted a bit to the right, mattheo being the first whose cock ended up in your mouth. your tongue swirled around, gathering his slickness, and you pulled away enough to spit it back, your fingers spreading the liquid along his entire length before diving back in.

"fuck," he breathed out, his hand loosely clutching the edge of the couch as his half-lidded eyes roamed over your face, fixated on your lips wrapped around him in the most enticing way. slowly, you started sucking, hollowing out your cheeks to provide more friction, while stroking theo’s dick at the same time. both of them were moaning above you, their hips twitching up every other second, and theo still had some sense in his hazy mind to caress mattheo’s thigh, which only made the latter’s pleasure more intense.

a couple of minutes later, when you started feeling theo getting restless, the movements of his hips growing a bit more sloppy, you pulled away from mattheo. he barely noticed, too lost in the world of bliss, especially since the stimulation never stopped, your hand coming in to take the place of your lips. you switched to the other side, finally taking theo’s cock into your mouth, which made him groan and impatiently grab your hair. you giggled but decided not to tease, since it was painfully obvious just how eager he was. you head started bobbing up and down as you sucked theo off, the sounds getting wetter and wetter from the amount of drool you produced due to theo being deliciously big. you choked a bit when his tip slipped into your throat, but you quickly adjusted – you were pretty used to his size already.

when you felt his cock starting to throb, you took it as a sign of him getting close, which prompted you to switch to mattheo again. a low, needy growl rumbled in his chest as he caught the sight of your pretty lips wrapped around him, his hips instantly rutting up, pushing his entire length right down your throat. you gagged again as you felt his thick cock stretching out your walls, and you were pretty sure that if you placed a hand on your throat, you’d feel his tip grinding against it from the inside. mattheo was very clearly impatient, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair as he started shoving you up and down. he had always had a thing for throatfucking, and you didn’t mind at all, eagerly allowing him to use you as a means to get off.

theo was watching the scene through his thick eyelashes, moaning louder from time to time when your hand squeezed him just a bit tighter. when mattheo started getting close, he immediately caught that. without a word, his head turned to the side, and his hand made its way up mattheo’s body to the back of his head. theo pulled him into a messy kiss, his fingers getting tangled in mattheo’s curls, both of them groaning against each other’s lips. when you looked up, met by the sight of your boys passionately making out, you felt the heat that had been building up in your stomach increase tenfold, and you knew right that moment that you had to make them finish as soon as possible to take care of your needs too. you picked up the pace under mattheo’s insistent hand, and soon, he was loudly panting against theo, string after string of his cum releasing into your mouth.

you quickly lapped up the remnants and switched to theo, who was already on the very edge. as your lips closed around him, his hips pushed up, and you knew you’d be hoarse as hell the next day when his tip roughly hit the back of your throat. theo desperately licked into mattheo’s mouth, the latter’s jaw still hanging slack as he came down from his high, and in a matter of seconds, his cum was also dripping down your throat, hot and slightly bitter from his constant smoking.

you were breathless when you pulled away, and your throat was already starting to hurt, but a smile spread on your face at the sight of the guys on the couch. they were now lazily and sloppily making out, catching their own breaths after their intense orgasms. theo’s hand was carding through mattheo’s hair, making him let out quiet little moans into theo’s mouth, while mattheo’s hand cradled the other boy’s cheek, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the flushed skin. they were adorable like that, and truthfully, you could watch them for hours. but you still had your arousal unattended to. both of them shifted their attention when you cleared your throat, identical smirks appearing on their lips when they saw your raised eyebrow. you definitely weren’t leaving the dressing room any time soon.

[oceansnotebook]

the DC boys and love languages

how they show their love for someone.

Included: dick, tim, jason, hal, wally, roy, barry

trying to write for more characters so I added my favorites!

Dick: quality time and touch.

Dick will do everything in his power to be around you most if not all of the day. He loves just sitting in silence with you, it’s never awkward! He loves it even more if you’re sitting in silence holding hands.

Any and every time you’re walking around in public, he will be holding your hand. He loves to take hold of your hand and swing your arms.

And at night, when you sleep together, he is so clingy. Just an absolute cuddle bug and will not let you go.

Tim: acts of service and gift giving.

Tim notices everything about you. And when he gets your routine and habits memorized, he will try to help you complete them easier. Whether that be making the bed for you, or simply making dinner he will always try to do something nice for you every day.

Whenever he goes out shopping and spies something that reminds him of you, he will most likely get it. Your house gets over cluttered with little things Tim has gotten you over the years.

He’s a really good gift giver too. whether it’s somthing you’ve been wanting for a while or something you didn’t even know you wanted, he’s gotten it for you.

Jason: quality time and words of affirmation.

Jason loves spending time with you and he gets very sad when he hasn’t seen in you in more than a day. He calls you a lot too. Your used to picking up your phone and seeing 13 missed calls from him, just for him to say “hi, I miss you”

He really loves words of affirmation because when you tell him something nice, he gets and happy and blushing so he tries to make you feel that way too.

He tries to do it smoothly, randomly walking by and saying “oh, your hair looks nice by the way” once you smile, he’s celebrating.

Hal: physical touch and acts of service

Hal loves touching you. He loves intertwining fingers, resting heads on shoulders and hugging. He doesn’t care when or where, he just adores touching you.

He also tries his best to be helpful and do small chores or things for you. He really likes it when you do tiny tasks for him, so he’ll do some in return. He knows that you get lonely when he’s away on long missions, so he tries to make up for it by catching up on chores and such. If theres ever something you’ve been worrying about, Hal will get it done for you and act as if it’s no big deal when you thank him.

Wally: quality time and physical touch

Wally loves being near you. He loves just sitting next to you and staring at you as you read or scroll on your phone.

Whenever you two are on public transport, like a bus or subway, he will be holding onto your waist, as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He really likes squeezing you’re face before kissing you, he thinks you look adorable and he loves the smile and laugh it brings.

Barry: acts of service and physical touch

Barry gets busy a lot. He also forgets a lot. Whenever he notices that you have done something for him, whether it be a small task or not, he feels so lucky. He tries his best to repay you for your act of kindness by doing something small for you in return.

You often return home after late nights to see dinner made and the laundry put away.

He also loves holding you, but he’s very observant of your boundaries and whether or not you’re in the mood for hugs. If you are, then he’ll be glued to your side all day, and if not that’s okay too! He’s okay with simply sitting on the same couch, smiling as he watches you do something mundane.

Roy: words of affirmation and acts of service

Call this boy anything sweet and he’s in love. He lives for your kind words and praise, even if he hides it. He tries to say something nice about you every time he sees you. He will absolutely praise you a lot, as he likes praise himself.

He also enjoys doing small things for you. Need something fixed? Ask Roy, he will be happy to help. It’s usually repairing things, or making small things for you he does, he always hopes it means alot to you.

this took so long to make lmao!

I might do things like this more but separate posts, so like batboys in one and other people in another!

I really hope you like it, I have never written for Roy and Wally before.

[eempyreall]

I am craving more of your hybrid yandere writing, on my knees begging 🙇

maybe something with the haitani brothers my beloveds? but honestly I'd be so happy with anything and anyone, fandom or original!

thank you for even considering I absolutely adore your work 💘

Thank you for your request!! <3

༺————————————————————————༻

♪ 𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝐷𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑛 ♪

༺ The Auction ༻

Oneshot ~ Hybrid Haitani Brothers x Female Reader

Summary ~ You work for an auction house that illegally sells exotic hybrids.

Featuring ~ The Haitani Brothers

Extra Notes ~ This is the fandom version of this story. If you want to read the non fandom that provides original characters, press this link.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Despite your job as a maintenance caregiver for the hybrids, your morals do not match that of your role. It is your belief that, although hybrids are deemed monsters and creatures, they should be treated like any other human. However, the pay is undeniably convenient and quicker than any other regular career you could work for.

You never expected to get attached to any of the hybrids at the auction house. Your only job was to maintain their care before they were sold to the highest bidder. You had succeeded with your logical approach since you began working at the house a couple of years ago.

It wasn’t until two snow leopard hybrids appeared in a way that was hard to ignore.

“These are the new captures,” the gruff voice of the broad, middle-aged man states. “Clean ‘em up.” Your boss turns to leave the room as you examine the two men through the bars of the large cage.

The one on the left is tall, leaning against the cold metal wall with his arms lazily crossed over his chest. His long, black-and-blonde hair drapes over his shoulders, a few loose strands framing his sharp jawline, smeared with dried blood. The blood is also streaked down his fit torso, staining the large tattoo on his skin. A sly smirk spreads across his face as he eyes his extended claws.

His droopy, heavy-lidded purple eyes shift to yours, the weight of his gaze heavy despite the lighthearted expression on his face. His ears are perked as his tail sways slowly. If you look closely, you can even see the stained crimson on his black pants. You notice that he doesn’t look wounded, so you wonder where the blood came from.

Next to his standing figure is a man with similar features, sitting on the ground. One arm is draped over his raised knee while the other is planted on the bottom of the cage. His blue-and-blonde hair is cut short at the sides but longer at his neck. His body has matching ink, though on the opposite side. Blood stains him just as much as the former.

His expression is indifferent, bored, as his heavy-lidded gaze sticks to the side, never meeting yours. His tail lies over the leg that’s flat on the ground, his claws extended as the dim light casts a glow over them.

Neither of them seem to be in pain. It makes you wonder what could’ve happened on their way here. If the older male had stayed, you would’ve asked so you’d know what to expect.

There are hybrids who are violent, indifferent, and scared. In your two years of working at the auction house, you’ve never come across anyone violent. You’re mainly consistent with those who are indifferent and scared. These guys don’t look scared. If anything, they look bored—but the blood says otherwise. It’s definitely not their own.

“You just gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna clean us already?”

Your attention turns to the male sitting on the ground, whose eyes are now on you.

Day one was interesting, to say the least.

“You're handling me with such care, human~” the long-haired man drawled, the suds of the bath covering his lower half, his hair dripping with moisture as he watched you glide the cloth against the skin of his arm. “You like me or somethin'?”

You give him an unimpressed look as you release his wrist, tossing him the wet cloth before grabbing a clean one. “You can clean your own balls.”

The blonde male snickered as you began to wash his back, while the older male whined, “Aww,” in response to your statement.

Once they were completely dried off and you had used the blow-dryer on their manes, you secured the collars around their necks and walked them to their new cage, the leashes in your hand.

They watched your figure as you walked in front of them, leading them to the cage which had futons, clean and ready for their temporary stay.

Once they were secured inside, you unhooked their leashes and locked the cage behind you.

The taller one leaned against the bars closest to you, his arms crossed above his head. “I wonder if you taste better than our lunch from earlier,” he said with a smirk.

You ignored him, suppressing the slight churn of your stomach so as not to give him the reaction he was looking for. It was best to pretend you didn't care what he had just said.

“Probably. That meal was ass,” the younger one stated as he relaxed on the futon.

You rolled your eyes and waved them off as you walked out.

When day two arrived, you entered the holding area in which the brothers were caged. The auction house was grand enough to have individual rooms, each holding at least two hybrids, secured behind bars.

The younger one sat on the futon, his back leaning against the back of the cage, arms draped over his bent knees as he idly flicked his tail. His blue-and-blonde hair was slightly messier than before, and his sharp eyes followed your every movement.

The older one stretched out across the futon, hands tucked comfortably behind his head as he cracked an eye open at your presence. His ears twitched, his tail flicking once before settling.

You unlocked the cage, stepping inside with ease. You didn’t say anything as you placed a tray of large raw fish inside.

“Room service, huh?” the older one smirked as he pushed himself up on his elbows.

You exhaled through your nose, unamused. “Eat.”

The following days became routinely consistent as you took care of the hybrids. You would arrive at their cage, feed them, monitor their vitals, bathe them, and feed them once more. Despite their playful behavior, you kept your responses short—yet somehow, they always found a way to pry a reaction out of you.

The older male, Ran, had a habit of watching you too intently. He’d study your movements and expressions while lazily draping over the futon or leaning against the bars. Despite his laid-back persona, there was intent behind every word he chose, amusement reaching his expression as he smirked whenever your lips twitched at something he said. Although Rin was quieter, he was blunt, slicing through whatever wall you tried to keep between yourself and them.

They were different from the other hybrids brought to the auction house. They weren’t scared, angry, or hopeless—though you couldn’t blame the others for feeling how they felt. If anything, they seemed to enjoy their situation a bit too much, as if it were a game.

As time went on, you continued to do your job, but at some point, your indifference began to slip.

The first time you laughed, it caught you off guard.

It wasn’t intentional. Ran had made some offhand comment—something absurd but delivered with such a straight face that you couldn’t help it. The sound barely left your lips before you caught it.

Ran’s grin widened as Rin’s lips curved into a smirk. You rolled your eyes and turned away, shutting down and replacing the mask you hide your real personality behind. After that, they continued to try and get a rise out of you, their amusing behaviors becoming more frequent.

There were a couple more times that you failed to keep your composure, despite your better judgment. You’d even make a few sly remarks in return that would make them raise an eyebrow with an amused gaze, their ears perking up and tails upright with a curve at the tip.

Regardless, you still remained professional. You didn’t linger longer than necessary. You didn’t acknowledge the way Ran’s eyes followed you when you walked away or how Rindou’s tail would twitch whenever you got too close. You ignored the way their bodies would subtly lean in your direction when you bathed them or checked them over.

You even ignored that you were beginning to enjoy their presence. You knew it was best not to get attached—soon enough, you’d never see them again.

You stood in the bathroom after bathing the males, using the blow-dryer on Ran's hair as he sat on the wooden chair. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he crossed a leg over along with his arms. His tail was low under the towel that covered his lower body, though it twitched slightly when you guided the bristles of the brush through his mane. The leopard almost drifted off to sleep as you worked through his long strands.

Rindou, on the other hand, stood off to the side, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

A towel covered his lower half, but his tail thrashed slightly underneath. His posture was tense as he eyed you.

Suddenly, you felt a strong tug on the back collar of your top, yanking you back with a sharp force that caused you to drop the blow-dryer onto Ran's lap and the brush to hit the floor.

A gasp escaped your lips as Rin lifted you up, his claws gripping your thighs and hoisting you onto the sink. He wedged himself between your legs as his head dipped between your neck and shoulder. Your hands reached his shoulders as he caged you in, his towel dangerously low.

“What the fuck?” you questioned, startled by the sudden movement as you leaned back, holding onto him. His nose pressed into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm as he slowly nuzzled your skin, his hands caging you in on either side of your hips.

His tail flicked behind him as his lips barely dragged along the lining of your neck, your body frozen as you stared across the room with wide eyes.

“Rin…” Your voice came out softer than you had wanted it to, a chill crawling up your spine as your nails pierced his skin.

He pulled back, a sharp gaze meeting yours, irritation clear in his expression. His ears were slightly pinned back as his grip on the counter tightened.

“You reek of mutt.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion as you pushed him back further, though he stayed in place.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He ignored you as his head dipped low again, a hand reaching up as he brushed against your jawline.

“Fixing it. You smell filthy,” he said, his voice rough.

Your breath hitched when you felt the moisture of his tongue as the muscle slithered up your neck, essentially grooming you of the scent of another hybrid you had tended to earlier that day.

Ran set the blow-dryer on the counter as he stood from the seat. “Damn, Rin. You just gonna leave me out?”

You yelped as the older brother's claws snatched your jaw up, forcing you to face the ceiling as his face dipped low from the side, wedging himself between the counter and your thigh.

Heat rushed through your body as your other hand grabbed Ran's shoulder in reflex. Despite using your strength to push them away, they were like stone walls.

It was late when you had entered their cage to check their vitals.

The other hybrids had you backed up as you completed all of your assignments the best you could in a timely manner. You approached with careful steps so as to not wake either of the sleeping men.

Once you knelt next to the older male, you reached for his wrist, only to be surprised when an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you onto the futon.

His warmth pressed against your back as he wrapped his tail lazily around your thigh, his arm holding you in place as he curled against you.

“Ran!” you whispered sharply, attempting to twist out of his grip.

“Just lay with me for a bit,” he said, his voice drowsy with sleep as he nuzzled against your neck.

Despite the logical part of your mind screaming at you to leave, you hesitated and figured that staying for a moment longer couldn’t hurt, as long as he fell asleep.

Time passed before you finally heard his breathing even out, allowing you to ease out of his grip.

You ignored the cold of your back from his absence as you kept your head straight toward the exit of the cage.

Three days had passed since you last stepped into their cage. You had switched assignments with another caregiver, distancing yourself from the Haitani brothers in a way that felt both suffocating and necessary. You had allowed a line to be crossed that should've never been breached.

It was going smoothly—or so you thought. You hadn't heard anything from or about them. You forced yourself not to worry about how they were doing or how they felt about your absence.

In the midst of beginning your shift, your boss, who had first introduced you to the Haitani hybrids, yanked you to a stop as you walked toward the designated hybrid room for the occupants you had been tending to recently.

“You—,” He exhaled sharply, sweat streaming from his forehead and soaking through his shirt. “Come with me. Now.”

“What?” you questioned, confusion knitting your brows as concern crept in at his antsy behavior.

The man gripped your wrist, dragging you down the familiar path toward the Haitani brothers' room. Before you could question him again, he threw the door open and pulled you inside.

Your eyes widened at the display.

Blood was everywhere.

The cage door was locked, yet inside, the floor was slick with crimson.

The scent of torn flesh thickened the air as your gaze landed on the scattered human remains—entrails and half-eaten limbs strewn across the cage and spilling just beyond the bars onto the wooden floor.

Bile threatened to rise in your throat as you lifted an arm over your mouth, leaning forward slightly before your gaze shifted to the hybrids inside.

Rindou sat on the futon with his knees raised, arms draped over them, his head bowed low. Despite his face being hidden, you could tell he was tense by the thrashing of his tail and the way his claws flexed against his arm. The skin visible to you was streaked with blood.

Ran stood at the bars, forehead resting against the cold metal, his hair partially veiling his face, claws curled around the bars. You caught the glint of his irises through the strands—dark, heavy-lidded, unreadable. His body and face bore the same smears of blood. His tail hung low, his ears flattened against his head.

The middle-aged man shifted nervously beside you. “They won't talk to anyone. They haven't even moved from their spots since we found them hours ago. They bonded with you, didn't they?”

You hesitated before giving a slow nod. Keeping your eyes on the floor, you stepped forward carefully, attempting to avoid the red puddles and strewn remains—though failing the closer you got to the bars.

You made sure not to get too close as you met Ran's gaze.

“Why have you been avoiding us?” His voice was calm, his expression stoic and dark as he looked down at you.

“Have you abandoned us?”

The words alone sent a chill up your spine, dread coiling in your stomach at the mess you had created by getting too close to them.

Someone innocent had died because of your mistakes.

The air in the bathroom was thick with steam and tension from the moments before. You carefully scrubbed Rin's arm, his skin still streaked with traces of blood. Both brothers sat silently in the bathtub, their expressions unreadable and dark. Their wet hair hung over their faces, dripping with water that trickled down their features.

“I... I'm sorry for not staying as professional as I should've,” you said softly, your voice strained with the tension. “And for leaving without saying anything.”

Rindou's jaw tightened, his body barely moving as his fingers curled against the edge of the tub.

His calm expression flickered with irritation. His tone was rough, but controlled. “You don't get it, do you?”

You were caught off guard as his claws snatched your wrist, pulling you forward with your arm stretched out. He leaned closer, eyes boring into yours. “You're an idiot. This is about you leaving us. Abandoning us for other hybrids while we waited for you to come back.”

Your heart started to pound against your chest as you tried to yank your arm out of his painful grip. “You're misunderstanding the situation! You shouldn't be so fucking attached to me. You're gonna be sold today! This isn't appropriate-!”

Ran's hand snatched the back of your neck, forcing you to face him. Moisture from the bath water dripped down your skin. “You think we give a fuck about what's appropriate?”

Suddenly, he threw you back, and you landed harshly on the floor. You watched with wide eyes as they stood up from the tub, water streaming down their bodies, their wet ears and tails flicking the moisture off as they took a step forward.

You scooted back gradually as they walked toward you, staring down at you with cold gazes.

“I think you've got this shit all wrong, Y/n.” Rin's voice was low and predatory as their tails thrashed around, ears flat against their heads.

It was traumatic.

The entire auction house erupted into a bloody massacre. With their claws extended, fangs as sharp as daggers, and bodies bare of any clothing, they mauled and shredded apart all of the employees, audience members, and hybrids that they smelled on you. One by one, the people who had been part of the illegal auction were maimed, killed, and toyed with—entrails and body parts scattered around the room.

The bodies piled up, but they didn't care.

Despite their calm demeanor and stoic gazes, a smirk or two here and there, they were feral. You could see it in their eyes—they absolutely enjoyed shredding everyone apart. The carnage lasted for at least an hour, though you hadn't kept track of the time. You were too distracted by the bloodshed playing out in front of you.

You even freed some of the hybrids from their cages in the hopes of the innocents escaping.

You recognized the middle-aged man, your boss, in an unrecognizable pile of guts, torn flesh, and blood.

Eventually, the chaos ended. The cries and screams of terror had finally died down.

You sat with your knees drawn to your chest, too paralyzed to escape. You hoped they would finish you off like they had the others, considering the guilt that weighed heavily on you for all of this. Rin and Ran finally approached you, their faces and torsos streaked with crimson. Their eyes held an eerie calm, but there was a glint of amusement there.

“Y'know, we were gonna do this the day we were captured,” Rin muttered, a smirk curving his lips as he crossed his arms. “But we stayed for you. It was fun while it lasted, playing as strays in a cage and all.”

Tears streamed down your face as you looked up at them. It felt as if the control you had all along had been stolen away from you. All of your emotions burst out in a hysterical outburst, your weeping uncontrollable as you covered your face and bowed your head.

“I-I can't believe this..” you sobbed, your voice shaky.

Ran's claws gently, but firmly, pulled your wrist away from your face, forcing you to stand. His bloody thumb smeared crimson against your cheek as he wiped away your tears. “Cry all you want, sweetheart. We're not done with you, yet,” he smirked.

Ran dragged you with them as they made their way toward the exit, stepping over the corpses of the dead without a second glance. Their smug expressions didn't falter as they moved through the carnage. The air was thick with the stench of death, but they seemed unaffected, as though they had done this a thousand times before.

As they stepped outside, Rin pulled out a phone from one of the corpses, dialing a number while smearing blood against the screen.

The phone rang, and you could only watch, too overwhelmed to react, as they spoke to their friend. The brutality they'd shown was nothing more than a prelude to what they had planned next.

“Done playing pretend?” The voice on the other end spoke with a condescending tone.

“Yeah. Just get Kaku to pick us up, Koko.” Rin's voice was smooth.

It had been weeks since the incident. You were deemed one of the unidentified victims—nothing but an unrecognizable pile of flesh and guts.

That day still haunted you, the memories of the chaos, screams, torn flesh. The smell of death was the worst of it.

Now, you sat between the two hybrids in the large bathtub. Your back rests against Ran's chest, his hands holding your breasts apart as Rin, sitting in front of you with your legs over his raised thighs, slides a wet cloth against the middle of your chest.

"Relax," Ran breathed as you felt his hard cock press against your lower back. Understanding what he meant, you tilted your head back against his chest, tilting to the side enough for his lips to press against your neck. His fangs nip your skin, causing you to shudder as Rin continues his motion against your skin.

Rin's hand moved lower, slowly disappearing under the sudsy water as he released the cloth, a sudden pressure of his finger meeting your clit. He leaned forward, lips parted as they pressed against yours in a slow, passionate kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

[starconstruction]

Ok!! I would love to see something with Choerry!! I can suggest tags I would particularly love, but plot I would have to brainstorm 😅

Tags: Heavy impregnation(!!!!!!!!), belly bulge, squirting&multiple orgasms, deepthroating, nipppleplay/breasfeeding, thighjobs/feet. I saw you like yandere. Maybe some heavy jealousy?

Literally anything you’d like !!

Plot suggestions are here just cause I’d feel bad just asking for a member and you doing all the heavy creative writing (but please do anything you’d like with it if you have an idea you want!!): coworker lip makes choerry jealous, forcing her to make m!reader remember who she belongs to.

Or maybe she tags along with? Anything you desire!! Hope to read it someday!

Thanks

Jealous Loving Partner

Yandere Choerry x Male Reader (Smut)

Smut Tags: Impregnation, multiple orgasms (both people), foot worship, foot job, feet kink, deepthroating, edging, belly bulge, squirting, creampie, riding, nipple sucking.

Crazy first ask, thank you for submitting! I hope it is up to your standards, I only feel a bit of shame.

WC: 2046

not proof read

The monotous clicking of your keyboard resonated through the sterile office, scents of an overabundance of old paper, laying anywhere and everywhere there was space, on the tables, on the floor, in cabinets. The intense workload was stressing you beyond relief. You were one of the only few employees left at this ungodly hour, it paid extraordinary amounts of money, but 80 hour work weeks has their toll on your body.

You sipped on your coffee, the comforting taste of dirt filled your mouth. It was disgusting however it gave you vital energy. Only one more hour and you can finally go home to your loving partner, Choerry. You two had been together for a little over 4 years, she was quite intense. Only a penny drop away at any moment, her messages frequently popped up. She could message you 10-20 times an hour and would get sad if you didn't respond to every single one. But apart from being a bit obsessive she was perfect.

You were engrossed in your work, ignoring the bright bursts of light that radiated from your phone, desperate to finish those projects that haunted you, a gentle hand pressed against your shoulder, distracting you from your goals. It was your coworker, you knew very little about her. Her brown hair laid flush on her shoulder, she was wearing a grey cardigan, shoulders exposed as she looked at your computer.

"Hey, sorry to bother you. Y/N right?" She said, voice quiet as she got your attention.

"Yeah, what do you need?" You replied, pulling away from your desk to give her your full attention.

"I have an issue with my computer, I'm on graveyard shift so I cant call someone else later, you're really my only hope." She looked down at the ground, giving a pleading smile.

"Sure I'll help"

-

What you hoped would be a small few minute job ended up being an entire hour long venture, the computer locked her with violence and aggression. Kim Lip, she said her name was. Her conversation was light as you two sprung words between each other, leaving work to the side as you fought tooth and nail to get this working.

Your shift was over, you being able to finally get out this office for the next few hours. "Alright Kim Lip, I'm out for the night." Slinging your bag over your shoulder, getting ready to leave when she stopped you. "I'll walk with you" she said. Coming behind you as you two left the building.

Your jaw dropped, Choerry was waiting for you outside. Staring daggers into you and Kim Lip, her feet digging into the ground, stomping as she dragged you away from her. "Piss off" she barked, venom spitting out of her words. Kim Lip looked at you in confusion as you got put into the passengers seat of the car.

Choerry opened the driver's seat as she clambered in, the air filled with tension. You watched in fear as she turned on the car. The music cranked all the way up, her face was an unreadable anger. Not sparing you a glance as you two sat in painful silence. You were in for it the second you got home.

--

Choerry pressed you into the wall of your shared bedroom, her body resting against you as she pulled your clothes off, fabric teared as she grabbed your shirt with reckless abandon. Buttons popped out as her hand gripped your chest, squeezing and groping every part of your torso. "Who the fuck was that?!" she growled, her teeth biting into your neck as you gasped in pain. "Are you fucking cheating on me with that whore?!" she continued.

"What? Choerry she's my co-worker." You said, trying to soothe her unrelenting anger. Choerry's biting got even sharper, blood drawing on everywhere her teeth dug into. "I don't fucking believe you!" Her hands playing with your pants as she shoved them down with your underwear in one fell swoop.

Her hand roughly stroked your cock, aggressively going up and down with no care for your pleasure. "Bet you wish it was her? She looked pretty maybe you wish it was her!" Choerry shouted, pumping her hand on your dick. Pained gasps left your mouth as she showed no signs of slowing down. "Choerry I-" She cut you off. "Shut up! You will take what I give!"

Her eyes stared up at you, intense orbs of anger. Her lips brushed against your tip, taking you into her awaiting mouth as she bopped up and down, licking your dick from the tip to the base, her blonde hair fired everywhere as she kept sucking, heavenly sensations shot over your cock, your hands desperately grabbing onto the wall. Fearing what would happen if you dare touched her.

Choerry's lips pressed against your crotch, breathing in your scent as your cock laid jammed in her mouth, drool formulated all over you as it started to overflow, dripping out the corners of her lips, landing on your balls as she held you there, your dick fully wrapped in Choerry's mouth.

She finally pulled away, giving you a second of respite from the luxury of her mouth. Her anger still fully visible, you were in the eye of the storm. Her hands braced you as she thrusted you into her mouth once more. Much rougher than before, gagging all over your length, vibrations pulsing on your tip, her head game was divine. You felt your orgasm on the verge of the horizon. "Choerry darling I'm going to cum!" as soon as those words left your mouth, her mouth withdrew. The sensation of being edged burned, leaving a painful singe in her absence.

You couldn't begin to complain as your body was thrown onto the bed. Bouncing against the mattress as your body landed in the middle, Choerry approached the bed, swaying her hips as she got to the edge. She looked so hot, a beacon of danger and desire. Her hand reached into her bed compartment, pulling out a gleaming pair of handcuffs. Trapping you against the bed.

"Baby, you need to make up for your cheating." Her hand ran up and down your chest, goosebumps coated your body as you shuddered.

"I didn't chea-" A strong force came down on your face. "I said no talking!" Her actions brought fear to you, Choerry has always seemed possessive but this was so out there. You swallowed your saliva as she took off the lower half of her clothes, throwing them everywhere and anywhere.

She sat down on your legs, crushing them slightly as she Choerry's feet pressed up against your nose, the intense stench of sweat filled your nostrils, her soles rubbed against your lips, the salty taste of sweat lingered on your mouth as she kept playing with your mouth. "Clean them off, show me how much you love me" She beamed a terrifying smile as your tongue went up and down, tasting more of her sweat as you lapped her feet clean.

Choerry jammed her foot into your awaiting mouth, swirling your tongue around her toes, wiping the dirt away as you gave her what she wanted. The loss of power intoxicated you as you took every action, her other foot trailed your body, finding it's way to your shaft. Still rock hard and throbbing as she grinded her foot all over it. Muffled gasps combined with gags as her foot pressed against the back of your mouth.

Her foot rubbed you violently, the sensation too much to handle as she got off on your misery, your loving partner turning into a demon in the bedroom. Choerry's foot withdrew from the depths of your mouth, saliva dripping on your chest as you caught your breath. "Good boy! You are being so good." She wrapped both her feet around your length, working harmoniously as she grinned, the feeling of her soles was soft and undeniably perfect. Bucking your hips under the pressure of Choerry's nonstop actions, the familiar feeling of the orgasm trying to come out yet again, her feet rubbed your balls and you felt seconds from unloading.

"No. You don't have the right." Her voice laced with a thick venom as she channeled her inner sadism, feet withdrawn as she got off your legs. You whined when she left the room, forcing you to lay there and contemplate your feelings. She was back promptly, the rest of her clothes removed. Holding something in her hands.

"You see these?" Her hand revealed a set of pills. You gulped. "That's right honey.. My birth control, I don't think we need them anymore. You'd agree right?" Panic seized your body as she stared at you, awaiting the correct answer. Your throat went dry as you thought about all the consequences of every possible answer. She wasn't just speaking from the loving woman she was usually, coming from a deep wish to have you by any means necessary.

"I'm waiting." She spoke bluntly, getting clearly frustrated as she stood there, this wasn't logical, wasn't normal. But deep down you wanted to take the next step with her. "Yes. Choerry. My love, let's go further." She smiled sweetly, throwing those pills into the wall as she approached.

Choerry straddled your body, right above your shaft as it pointed against her cunt, rubbing against her, getting the tip wet in her essence. A deep breath came from her mouth as her body lowered into yours. Her walls clamped down on you, the first inch being tortuous as she started to sink down, the sensation was overwhelming. Loud gutteral moans came from your lips as Choerry started screaming, "Fuck... My love! Your dick is so good, I love you!" she gasped, bouncing up and down violently as the bed shook. "I love you!"

Her fingers dug into your chest, leaving red marks as you met her halfway, skin slapping as your crotches connected. You knew you weren't going to last very long after her precious edging. She could sense your closeness as you thrusted more irregularly, "That's right baby, make me a mommy! Cum in me!" She let out a satisfied moan as you shot your load into her pussy, giving her the present she wanted. "Hmmm that feels good.. Your cum is so warm.." Her body gasped, she kept bouncing despite your sensitivity. Pain erupted all over your body for the 5th time today.

"Choerry please.. Slow down" Your voice was pained as you laboured to speak, it seemed to only spur her on as she kept bouncing, even stronger as she started gripping on you even more intensely. "Fuck fuck! I'm gonna cum baby!" She shouted as your shaft fucked your cum further into her. Large amounts of her liquid shot over your shared bed as she came undone.

She held herself there as she let you relax, no thoughts were in your head as you breathed in the shared scent of sweat and sex, your hands laid on your bed as Choerry smiled at you. "I think you can go another round yeah? Really make sure I get pregnant" You really couldn't go another round, but her smile was so disarming. Nodding as she started picking up the pace. You ignored the burning sensation in your loins as she moaned.

Choerry leaned forward, holding you up as she brought her breasts to your mouth, "Suck on my nipples baby, imagine how full they'll be when you knock me up." Her voice was glazed over as you took her left boob into your mouth, sucking on her bountiful bosom, her skin slightly sweet to the taste as she arched her back. "Fuckk keep sucking, right there." Her hands pressed into the back of your head, clinging onto strands of your hair.

Your orgasm hit like a tsunami as you shot another load into her awaiting body, biting her nipple as you doused it in saliva. Your orgasm triggered a chain reaction, another douse of her squirt hit the bed. She removed your hungry mouth from her breasts, smiling. Her stomach was bulging with your load, completely stuffing her.

"You are mine, completely now baby. No more co-workers."

She was batshit insane, but she was yours, and you were hers.

[hy6erion]

Thank youuu! Ok so the song is diner and diatribes, and basically the song is about wanting to leave the function (a dinner, a party whatever) with your partner as soon as possible because everyone is just talking so much and being annoying and whatnot. But you can't leave just yet as that would be quite rude so you settle for the second best, mentally planning what your are going to do as soon as you leave (/I'd suffer hell if you'd tell me/ /What you'd do to me tonight/). And I'm just imagining reader and viktor being sassy and teasing eachother the whole night waiting to see who breaks first (/Let there be hotel complaints.../), and from there you can do literally any (leave it there or develop it further, whatever you feel like writing)

I just thought I'd give you some of my interpretation and thought on it but feel free to listen to it and/or read the lyrics and interpret it however you'd like❤️

~🍒

𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭.

⇢ 𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐧 (𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤), 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧/𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝!! 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 (≧◡≦)

The dining hall of Piltover’s Grand Atrium was nothing short of extravagant. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, polished silverware reflected the light like tiny stars, and the hum of conversations swelled into an insufferable, droning symphony. Every attendee was dressed to impress, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and finely aged wine.

It should have been a lovely evening.

It wasn’t.

You shifted in your seat, resting your chin on your hand as yet another Zaunite-Piltovian relations speech droned on. Across the table, a council member was detailing their plans for a “more efficient trade system,” which was just a polished way of saying they wanted to make even more money off Zaun’s labor.

Viktor, seated beside you, was the picture of polite disinterest, his fingers drumming lazily against the tablecloth, his cane resting against his knee. He looked devastatingly handsome in his finely tailored suit, his cravat slightly loosened as if even his clothing couldn’t tolerate the dull atmosphere.

You leaned in, voice low enough for only him to hear.

“If I have to listen to another self-important noble prattle on about ‘mutual prosperity,’ I might start throwing butter knives.”

Viktor let out a quiet chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk. “That would be quite the scandal. Though, given the state of these conversations, it might be considered an act of public service.”

You sighed dramatically. “Can we leave?”

“Not yet, dear. That would be rude.” He was teasing, his voice laced with amusement. “But don’t worry, I’m sure the next speech will be even more riveting.”

You gave him a slow, deliberate look. “I’d rather suffer hell.”

His amber eyes flickered with interest, a glint of mischief dancing behind them. “Would you now?”

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could answer, a server passed by, refilling your glasses with an absurdly expensive vintage. You turned your attention back to your untouched plate, twirling your fork between your fingers.

Viktor, however, leaned closer, his breath just barely grazing your ear.

“Tell me, what would you rather be doing instead?” His voice was low, smooth, carrying an unmistakable challenge.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze, and the air between you tightened. You tapped a finger against your lips, feigning thoughtfulness. “Hmm. Let’s see. Anything, really. But if I had to pick…” You tilted your head, letting your lips ghost just shy of his jaw. “I’d say something much more… hands-on.”

Viktor’s fingers stilled against the tablecloth, his smirk growing just a fraction sharper. “How bold of you.” His eyes flicked down briefly, then back up, filled with knowing amusement. “Though I do wonder… how long can you keep up this little game?”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I can last all night.”

His smirk deepened. “That, my dear, is a lie.”

You scoffed, taking a slow sip of your wine, letting the glass linger against your lips. “You underestimate me, Viktor.”

“Do I?” He raised an eyebrow, voice as smooth as silk. “Because you seem quite eager to leave.”

You exhaled through your nose, barely holding back a laugh. “And you don’t?”

He shrugged, leaning back slightly. “I’m patient.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re just as bored as I am. Maybe even more.”

Viktor hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps. But I am also enjoying this.”

“This?”

He turned his head slightly, his voice a quiet murmur. “Watching you squirm.”

Your breath hitched, but you recovered quickly, tilting your head with faux innocence. “Oh, I’m not squirming, dear.” You dragged the endearment out just enough to make his eyes darken. “If anything, I think you’re the one losing focus.”

Viktor let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Such a dangerous individual.”

“Only for you.”

The weight of the words settled between you, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you faded into insignificance—the dull speeches, the clinking glasses, the insufferable crowd.

But then, of course, the universe decided to punish you both.

“Ah, Viktor!” A new voice broke through your bubble, and you internally groaned. A particularly talkative professor from the Academy took the empty seat beside Viktor, immediately launching into a discussion about hextech regulations.

Viktor, ever the polite conversationalist, turned to respond, though you caught the brief flicker of irritation in his eyes.

Your fingers, hidden beneath the table, brushed against his knee. He stiffened almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t look at you.

You smirked. Slowly—deliberately—you let your fingers trail a little higher, barely grazing along the inside of his thigh.

Viktor’s posture remained composed, but you felt the tension in his leg. His fingers curled around the stem of his glass, tightening just slightly.

“—but of course, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the latest developments,” the professor was saying.

Viktor exhaled through his nose. “Ah, yes, of course. The, ah, latest—” He cut himself off as your fingers danced higher. His jaw tightened. “Developments.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

Leaning in, you whispered, “Something wrong, Viktor?”

His eyes flicked toward you, sharp and knowing. “Oh, not at all.” He shifted slightly, placing his cane against the floor with a firm click. His free hand—warm and steady—found your knee beneath the table. “Though I do believe two can play this game.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers slowly traced along the inside of your thigh, mirroring your earlier actions with devastating precision.

You swallowed. Hard.

His smirk was maddening. “What was that you said earlier?” He tilted his head, mockingly thoughtful. “Oh yes. ‘I can last all night.’”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him. “You’re evil.”

“Mm, only for you.”

Damn him.

The rest of the evening was spent in a silent war of nerves, subtle touches, teasing words, and heated glances that promised retribution the moment you were alone.

When the dinner finally—finally—ended, and you were able to slip away unnoticed, Viktor was barely a step behind you.

And by the time the hotel doors shut behind you both, all pretense was gone.

Let there be hotel complaints.

—

The door clicked shut behind you, the dim golden light of the hotel room casting a warm glow over the space. The luxurious suite was elegant—ornate crown moldings, plush velvet drapes, and a grand four-poster bed that practically demanded to be ruined.

But you barely spared it a glance.

Your breath was still uneven from the last few hours—the dinner, the teasing, the war of patience that had nearly shattered your composure. Viktor stood just a few steps away, his posture deceptively relaxed, his cane still in hand, but his amber eyes were dark with something heady and victorious.

You swallowed.

“You walked fast,” you murmured, your voice hushed, thick with anticipation.

He tilted his head, his smirk creeping in. “And you nearly tripped twice trying to keep up.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re one to talk, bolting out of that dining hall like a man possessed.”

He took a slow step forward. “I simply have a… strong sense of direction.”

Your pulse quickened. He was toying with you, dragging it out just to see how much further he could push before you snapped. The problem was—you wanted to snap.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, tilting your chin up.

His smirk deepened. “And yet you are the one who started this.”

Your mouth opened to argue, but then—suddenly—he was in front of you, close enough that the scent of ink, iron, and something distinctly Viktor filled your lungs. His hand reached up, fingers ghosting along your jaw, tracing the edge of your throat with maddening gentleness.

You shivered.

“You spent the entire evening provoking me,” he murmured, his voice a quiet accusation. “Running your fingers up my leg beneath the table… whispering in my ear… acting as if you could handle the consequences.”

Your breath caught, fingers curling at your sides. “I can handle them.”

He hummed, unconvinced. “Is that so?” His fingertips brushed down your throat, just barely grazing your collarbone, teasing, testing.

Your skin burned under his touch. The tension coiled tight, every nerve electrified with anticipation, but you refused to be the first to break.

Two could play this game.

You leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “You’re talking an awful lot for someone who’s just as desperate as I am.”

Viktor exhaled through his nose—a sharp, amused sound—before his hand suddenly slid around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. The shift in control was immediate, his grip firm yet deliberate, tilting your head just enough to expose the delicate line of your throat.

“Desperate?” His voice was a low murmur, warm against your skin. “No, you are desperate.”

Your stomach clenched.

His thumb traced along the pulse at your throat, lingering just to feel it quicken under his touch. He was enjoying this, savoring every second, watching you unravel piece by piece.

And you hated—loved—that he was right.

Your patience was fraying. Your resolve was slipping.

And Viktor knew it.

So, you did the only thing you could.

You kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was a collision—fierce, urgent, reckless—months of restrained tension breaking all at once. Viktor responded immediately, a sharp inhale through his nose before his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You barely had time to gasp before he pressed you back against the nearest surface—the wall—his cane clattering to the floor as his hands found your hips, fingers gripping just enough to make you dizzy.

Heat flooded through you. Every point of contact burned.

“I knew it,” Viktor breathed against your lips, triumphant. “I knew you would break first.”

You barely had the sense to glare at him. “Shut up.”

He grinned, teeth grazing your bottom lip. “Make me.”

You did.

Sometime later—long after the teasing had given way to something far less restrained—you found yourself tangled in the mess of sheets, your body still humming from the aftermath. Viktor lay beside you, his arm draped lazily over your waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin.

You exhaled, content but exhausted, turning to meet his gaze. His hair was tousled, his lips still slightly swollen, his golden eyes heavy-lidded but sharp with amusement.

The bastard knew he’d won.

You huffed. “You’re impossible.”

His smirk was lazy, satisfied. “And yet, here you are.”

You narrowed your eyes, rolling onto your side to face him fully. “I demand a rematch.”

His fingers trailed up your spine, featherlight. “Oh?”

“Yes,” you said firmly. “Next time, I will win.”

Viktor let out a quiet chuckle, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder. “Mm. I look forward to it.”

And judging by the smirk he gave you right before flipping onto his back—so that you could hear the distinct, irritated thump from the neighboring room’s wall—you knew that rematch would be happening very, very soon.

Let there be many hotel complaints.

[itsnesss]

I don't know if you take requests, but since I like your writing language very much, I would love you to write something like this. It seems like something like the reader saying she wants to get pregnant while making love after noticing Hwan Jun Ho's interest in children would be nice.

𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | intimacy (implicit/not overly graphic), emotional vulnerability, discussions of parenthood

word count | 1.5 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

Moonlight filters through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the dimly lit room. Outside, the city continues its course, indifferent, but here, within these four walls, everything feels different. There are no rushes, no worries. It’s just the two of you, trapped in a moment that seems suspended in time.

You feel the weight of his body over yours, his warmth surrounding you, the brush of his skin against yours in a slow, deliberate dance. Every touch, every kiss, every shared breath carries the weight of everything you’ve built together. It’s not just desire, not just need—it’s something deeper, something more meaningful. Something that goes beyond the fleeting passion of a single night.

Your fingers trace down his back, following the contours of his muscles with a light, almost reverent touch. You know that Junho isn’t a man who allows himself to be vulnerable easily, but here, with you, he lets all his walls down. The way he holds you, how he brushes his nose against yours before kissing you again, how he intertwines his fingers with yours as he moves above you—it tells you more than any words ever could.

And then, like a whisper among your thoughts, like a truth that has been waiting to be spoken, the words slip from your lips before you can stop them.

"I want to have a child with you."

Junho tenses slightly but doesn’t stop. His gaze meets yours in the dim light, and in his eyes, there’s more than just surprise. There’s curiosity, tenderness… something you can’t quite decipher.

"Really?" His voice is low, almost a murmur against your skin, as if he doesn’t want to break the atmosphere surrounding you.

You take a breath, feeling your chest rise against his. There’s no doubt in you. It’s something you’ve been feeling for a long time, but only now have you found the words to express it.

"Yes," you answer firmly. "I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ve seen you with children… how you look at them, how you care about them without even realizing it."

He blinks, surprised, but says nothing. You know he’s listening, that he’s processing what you’ve just said.

"When you see a child on the street, you always pause a second longer than necessary," you continue. "When we’re at the park, your attention always drifts toward them. And when you talk about your brother…"

You hesitate because you know mentioning his brother touches a sensitive part of him. But it’s part of what makes him who he is. Part of what has led you to realize what you truly want.

"I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it," you add softly. "But if you ever wanted to… if you ever desired it, I’d want it to be with you."

Junho exhales, closing his eyes for a moment before resting his forehead against yours. His breath is warm, unsteady, and his hands tighten around your waist.

"I wasn’t expecting to hear something like that tonight," he admits with a low chuckle—not one of mockery, but of disbelief. As if he finds it hard to believe this is real.

"I didn’t plan it," you respond, smiling too. "I just… felt it."

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. His fingers trace slow circles on your skin, as if memorizing every detail of you. Then, without saying anything else, he kisses you. It’s a different kiss than before: deeper, more meaningful, more devoted.

And in that kiss, you find your answer.

Time seems to dissolve as you remain wrapped in each other’s warmth. Junho never stops touching you, holding you with the same delicacy one would hold something fragile, precious. Every movement of his carries a new purpose, as if your words have shifted something inside him. As if something has settled in his heart.

His face is partially hidden in the curve of your neck when he murmurs, his voice husky, "I never thought of myself as a father."

You slide your hands into his hair, running your fingers through his dark strands with tenderness.

"And now?"

He sighs, his lips brushing against your collarbone before lifting his gaze to meet yours.

"I don’t know," he admits. "But if it ever happens… I can’t imagine anyone but you."

Your heart pounds at his words. It’s not an absolute statement, not an immediate promise, but you understand. Junho isn’t someone who rushes into things. He needs time to process, to internalize. But the fact that he hasn’t rejected the idea, that he’s considering it, means more than you can express in this moment.

"That’s enough for me," you whisper.

He gives a small, lopsided smile, and with one last kiss to your forehead, he lets your bodies find that shared rhythm again, allowing the moment to envelop you completely.

Later, when sleep begins to claim you and Junho still holds you in his embrace, you break the silence once more.

"If we had a child… what name would you like to give them?"

You feel his chest shake with a low, drowsy chuckle.

"Are we already picking names?"

"I’m just curious."

He stays quiet for a moment, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.

"If it’s a girl… I’d like her to have a strong name. Something that makes her stand out."

"And if it’s a boy?"

Junho falls silent, and for a moment, you think he has fallen asleep. But then, his voice comes in a whisper, as if he’s testing the sound of the idea in his own mind.

"Maybe something in honor of my brother."

Your chest tightens with a mix of emotion and tenderness. You don’t push him to say more—you don’t want to force him to keep talking if he doesn’t want to. Instead, you snuggle closer against him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you.

And as sleep finally pulls you under, a soft smile graces your lips. Because even though the future is still uncertain, even though Junho needs time to process everything you talked about tonight, there is one thing you know with absolute certainty:

If that moment ever comes… he would be an incredible father.

And there’s no one else in the world you’d rather share that future with.

[burymagdalene]

i love your writing, so therefore i know you have great taste. any fics you’d recommend? (smuts always loved and appreciated)

Omg! Thank you I’m so nervous I love everybody I’ve ever seen on here but I do have a little note of some fics that are my favs!!

And I’m sure everyone has read but if not!!

Good Luck - @luveline

Not that kind of movie - @pathologicalreid

Gypsophilia; honey - @ophelia-is-complex

How you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things - @reidrum

Puppy eyes - @misserabella

Heavenly - @dudeitiskarev

On the concept of want - @vatelixx

Weber’s law - @nereidprinc3ss

Decoy - @violetrainbow412-blog

Those r some I really liked! Idk why this was so nerve racking I’m high

Also anything under my #recs :>

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Okay Cat Stan idea but it’s during the period of time where Ford is holding Stan’s car and Carla’s there.

HOWEVER

Someone new strolls into town Jimmy Snakes.

Now idk if you know Jimmy Snakes, but he’s a deleted character who was a supposed to be like a guy from Stan’s past and was going to be a rival for Stan.

https://www.reddit.com/r/gravityfalls/comments/40zvki/sketch_from_unused_ep_jimmy_snakes/

Many people use Jimmy as some sort of ex Stan and well you go with that but in this idea I’m aiming for the he’s a guy from Stan’s past who was hired to track Stanley back down and take back to a gang.

Or maybe Jimmy’s the gang leader himself (of a motorcycle gang) and knows Stan isn’t dead.

Now the reason I bring up Jimmy is because he was said to be like an off brand Ghostrider. And guess what Ghostrider can do? SEE INTO SOULS!!

So for this idea Jimmy comes into town, coming to locate Stan and immediately sees into Nikola’s soul and makes the connection that cat is Stan.

He goes up to Ford trying to claim that the cat that Ford found is his cat, and thanks Ford for taking care of his “cat” and would like if he could return it to him.

Stan is internally being like: NO FORD DO NOT LET THIS GUY TAKE ME— HES NOT A GOOD GUY

And Ford doesn’t want to give up Nikola.

So Jimmy is forced to stay in Gravity falls and forced to do shenanigans to try to kidnap Stan.

That's a super fun idea!

I know of Jimmy snakes, as a concept more than anything, and although I do enjoy reading bitter exes Stan and Jimmy, I personally won't right it. Just because I don't write it in general, romantic relationships confuse me.

Jimmy rolls into town, looking for Stan, for nefarious reasons. Maybe Stan made a deal and dipped, not realizing how serious it was? And technically owes his soul to be bound in off brand ghostrider servitude? Or he's actually low on the list of criminals Jimmy's hunting, but he saw the name and recognized it? Or he was supposed to die, and Jimmy did instead and cheated death by becoming ghostrider knock off, and is hunting him down to make it even?

Whatever the reason, it's not good and Stan wants no part of it. He thought he was safe because of the curse, but because of Jimmy's ghost eyes he can see Stan's soul under all the cat stuff. Jimmy doesn't want to get this weird knock of Stan involved, so he tries convincing Ford that Stan's actually his cat.

Ford doesn't believe a word of it, because he both loves his cat, and can see that his cat wants nothing to do with Jimmy. Even if Jimmy was telling the truth, he was obviously a terrible owner.

Cue shenanigans as Jimmy tries to separate them, and it becomes increasingly obvious that Stan is glued to Fords shoulders. Now Jimmy has to try and play nice with the guy to get close, or break into his house and kidnap Stan directly.

Ford hates this guy who keeps trying to talk with him. Jimmy low key then high key becomes miffed he can't charm knock off Stan, and now he's just trying to get Ford to like him on any level. He's forgotten about Stan almost, except that Stan is always there, hissing at him and ruining his and Fords chances to become buds. Stan can't figure out what Jimmy's deal is, because Jimmy doesn't know what he's doing either.

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror............Part XV

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length)

Summary: The chaos surrounding the death of Macrinus keeps Letha and Geta apart much longer than either of them expected. Geta has an urgent question for Letha.

Warnings: make-up sex, and a shitty understanding of ancient Roman procedures around rule, 18+ only.

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 15 of 15!

[ Part XIV ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: I would like to preface this by saying thank you for reading this self-indulgent slop. I hope you got some small amount of enjoyment out of it. Your comments along the way kept me engaged enough to actually finish this. It's the first thing I've ever started writing that I actually feel like I finished. There's so much I could've added to this post-reunion that this would've never been done. I could always embellish at a later date if anyone wanted it. I'm also a bit sad to finish this because I don't have anything to look forward to now. Thank you for your time and attention. It means a lot.

Also, mea lux is 'my light' I believe.

Almost two weeks passed before Letha laid eyes on Geta again.

It was prevented by a combination of things. There had been so much to deal with after the incident in the gardens. Geta had been embroiled in meetings, debating things Letha wasn’t privy to. There was a ceremony for Ancus, to honor him for his efforts to protect his Emperors. And at every party, everyone was so desperate to show face to their Emperors, to remind them of their loyalty in wake of the exposure of Macrinus’s plot. 

Though she wasn’t invited to any official meetings or ceremonies, there were situations where she could’ve sought Geta out at these fetes and events. But she didn’t. She was scared to have that conversation that needed to happen. 

She knew she was still treated as a guest in the palace. More like a fixture, really, available to distract Caracalla whenever the burden of rule grew too tiresome with more poetry, read under the shade of a tree in the gardens, Ancus always nearby. But aside from that, she felt quite restless. 

It’s not as if she expected things to go back to how they were, but she didn’t think it would be this hard to put her thoughts together. Leaving the gardens that evening, neck still sore, she was imagining how she’d look over at Geta the next morning and fervently apologize, for all of it. She’d tell him she would understand if he sent her away, and he would assure her that he wouldn’t dream of it.

But the next morning she couldn’t leave her bed, paralyzed by this new fear. She’d gotten a chance to see what her relationship with Geta could be, she didn’t know what she would do if it was not that. And the possibilities he’d promised her most certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t happen anymore. She stewed in the hesitance, the uncertainty, until she became convinced that it absolutely would be different. No matter what different meant, she was sure it wouldn’t be good.

And so it continued, Letha skipping mealtimes that used to be routine, bumping into servants gossiping on her way into the kitchens to eat. Occasionally she heard her name on their tongues, her appearance causing them to freeze as if Letha were Medusa herself. Not wanting to make a scene, she’d just duck right back out, resolving to return later.

Caracalla assured her his brother was just being kept very, very busy in the wake of the subterfuge and death of Macrinus, but she couldn’t help but feel like it was a little intentional. 

What did you expect, honestly?

She didn’t know why she was still allowed to wander the palace, as if she were back to being a guest. There were no guards posted outside her room, and for the last week she spent her evenings in the gardens, observing the moon, asking no one in particular what happens next.

She wasn’t naive, she knew Tegula didn’t trust her. And nothing spread faster than a salacious rumor. They weren’t so foolish as to speak poorly of their Emperor, so they resorted to tarnishing her reputation instead. She was a witch, had steered Macrinus to his end, was desperate to attach herself to the divinity the Emperors were entitled to.

It was ridiculous. If she had such powers, she sure wouldn’t have suffered all this. 

It was all just more fuel for her suppositions, perpetuating her unhappy cycle until she felt like it would be better if she just snuck out one night. She could become a ghost story. But against all odds, she still carried hope that the next day would be different. 

As for Geta, well, Geta was trying to prevent an economic collapse. Some part of him thought Letha might think poorly of him if he let the empire fall around them because he would rather be locked up in his rooms, curled up in her. Because that was what he wanted. But he had a duty, a responsibility to steer this monstrous empire in a direction he could have heirs in. Perhaps the danger had put things into perspective.

Listening to the senators describe just how involved Macrinus had been in arming their voracious armies became more and more painful as they dove into the minutiae of complex accounts and processes he never bothered to pay attention to before. It was overwhelming. But he knew their efforts were working. Still, there were moments where he’d trade it all for those eyes on him again. 

What little free time he had was spent trying to avoid Letha, because he needed hours, days, uninterrupted, for him to spill his heart to her. A few minutes here and there wouldn’t be enough to relay any of the complex emotions he felt. He couldn’t avoid her forever, though, because there was a certain conversation that had to happen. He needed to know where he stood with her before he picked a particular path to tread down.

So that was why he stalked the gardens that evening, waiting for her to appear for her nightly stargazing. And as he watched her spread out the emerald-dyed linen on the grass, he felt calm. Almost peaceful. He let himself forget the weight of all that had happened, the guilt, too. Everything they’d all been through. 

Well, not everything.

“You should have run far away from here,” Geta spoke, disturbing her peace. 

Letha looked over her shoulder, her breath held in her lungs as she appraised him. It almost felt like the first time. The first time she saw him and admitted against her better judgment that he was beautiful.

The moonlight glinted off the laurels and the golden chestplate he still wore, though the ceremony had long been over. His hair was shiny, neat, framing his fair face. His deep, dark eyes, still lined in crimson, were locked on her.

He looked close to divine standing there in the golden armor, easily one of the most opulent things she’d ever seen. He somehow looked taller, broader, in the armor. Untouchable, too. 

It was so late in the evening, he should’ve changed. He should be in bed. Anywhere but here.

No more hiding. 

“I was locked in a cell, I wasn’t running anywhere.”

He surprised her by sitting beside her on the blanket, the ceremonial armor quite uncomfortable to lay down in. He kept his arms slung around his knees, the bindings of the tall sandals flexing over his shins as he joined her in staring up at the large moon.

“What about after?” After Macrinus. “You’ve had no chaperone for well over a week now.”

Letha felt her stomach twist. “I’ve thought about it.”

“But?” Geta supplied, turning his head away from the splendor of the night sky to peer down at her where she laid out beside him. A challenger to the celestial might hanging above.

“You know there would be no point.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

She rolled her eyes, a treasonous activity if done by any other, but it filled Geta with warmth, bringing the beginnings of a smile to his lips. It all felt so familiar.

“There’s something that is keeping me here. Besides the fact I wouldn’t last a day out there with nowhere to go.”

“I dared to hope,” he admitted, taking her own admission and shoving it into the cracks that were slowly mending, a makeshift mortar.

She looked over at him, a line forming between her brows as she studied him, thinking very hard about what to say next. He reached down with a finger, gently pressing at the center of her brows, pushing away the line.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, the pressure of his closeness becoming overwhelming. 

“No,” he shook his head, moving his finger lower to press to her lips, silencing any further unnecessary apologies. “It is forgiven.”

Letha felt relief, could feel a tear forming at the corner of her eye. But she didn’t want to cry, not now. She recalled her apology muttered into his hair that day. He’d told her ‘no’ then too. 

“Do you still care for me?” he asked, his voice low.

“Of course I do,” she whispered, feeling the tear slide down the side of her face. 

He noticed it, moving his fingertip to wipe away the trail before resting his hand on the ground beside her head. He licked his lips, staring at her, all his weight bearing down, as if daring himself to collapse onto her. 

As much as he might have enjoyed frolicking beneath the stars, removing this armor was not a graceful job, even for two. 

“I want to show you something.” He pushed off the ground and sat up, the haze of him dispersed. She made herself sit up, kept her eyes on him as he stood up. He could feel a swarm of bees in his stomach moving angrily as he held a hand out for her to help her to her feet.

There was a split second of indecision and he nearly faltered, but her tight grip on his hand was a balm, immediately settling his nerves. As she leaned down to gather up the blanket, he tugged her hand, urging her to leave it. 

Geta  lifted the small chest off his desk and carried it over to where Letha sat on the side of the chaise in his room. It sank into the plush seat and she looked up at him, surprised. 

“It’s quite heavy.”

“I can manage just fine,” he smiled, his teasing tone returning.

It was so easy to get caught up in his magnetism. She wondered if he knew he possessed such a thing.

“Go on,” he urged. “Open it.”

She obeyed, pushing up the lid, exposing a rich ruby interior, the box created to house this one ornate bauble. Laurels, golden and sparkling. There were small, dazzling red gems hidden among the leaves here and there.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reaching in to run a finger along one of the gilded leaves. “Seems a bit small for you,” she admitted.

“It is,” he confirmed. 

“Well I think Caracalla will love it,” she smiled, lowering the lid. “It’s a thoughtful gift.”

Geta reached down, pulling it back open. There was a look in her eyes that gave him pause, all the smiles and teasing forgotten. As if she knew already what he was about to say. To ask.

“It’s not for my brother.”

His words sent an icy chill down the center of her back, forcing her to sit up a bit straighter. He was already moving away, pacing.

“I have been busy, Letha,” he admitted. “I’ve spent more time with the senators than I can possibly stand. And in exchange for those long hours, I got this.”

“Geta, I—”

“Don’t feel like you need to say yes right now. Just promise me you will think on it. I know these last couple of weeks have been difficult, we’ve had a hell of a time trying to navigate—”

Letha stood and walked over to him as he rambled. She reached up and curled her fingers around the collar of the chestplate, pulling him down by it, pressing her lips to his. 

Geta recognized the action immediately, bringing one of his hands up to cover hers where she held the armor, moaning against her lips. He pulled her in by the small of her back with his free hand. Her necklace clattered against the metal plate until it was muffled by the press of her against him. 

He could not get near enough air into his lungs. He felt dizzy, incoherent, his blood at once diluted but also thickened, leaving his limbs feeling heavy with a honeyed sludge passing through his veins. The pressure of her hauling him down to her eager mouth by the bronze plate persisted in his brain, in his gut, and he suspected he would relive it for the rest of time. 

“Letha,” he breathed, his palm pressing to her heated cheek. “You can take time,” he offered, though he would be lying if he said he was satisfied with this and nothing more.

“I’ve taken it,” she replied quickly, releasing the armor. 

Before the dissatisfaction crept in, he felt her fingers at his side, brushing the underside of his arm that he immediately lifted. She worked at the buckle, pulling the leather free before moving down to the woven golden string keeping both halves together. 

Once his brain caught up to hers, he pulled at the cords holding the pauldrons over his shoulders, the both of them picking up speed as an unspoken sense of urgency grew in the silence. It all hit the floor with a loud clattering, the pteruges joining it not long after. 

Free from the weight of the heavy armor, Geta reached for Letha’s neck, pulling her into him, groaning against her lips as he attempted to make up for lost time.

As he held her, he realized she was working herself out of her dress. It was bunched up on her shoulders by the time he looked down. The next chance she got, the two of them needing air, she threw it off over her head. 

“I would have gotten to that,” he breathed, allowing himself to look her over. 

“Like I said, I’ve taken it.” she spoke with intention. He felt it low in his belly.

She got to spend only a moment more on her feet before he collected her in his arms and carried her to the bed. She let out a laugh as she sank into the plush arrangement of silks and pillows. He stared down at her, feeling that blooming of warmth in his chest that only she gave him.

 “What are you waiting for?”

As the words left her lips, Geta threw off the white tunic and joined her, crawling up her body to seal his lips to hers, finally allowing the weight of him to press her down into the bed. He had missed this. Her skin, already hot beneath his hands, her movements only drawing him in further, seeking his touch, his lips.

It had been a long couple of weeks.

He felt her bring a leg up around his hip and he reached for it, fingers digging into her thigh as he rutted against her. The ragged moan that left his throat said more about his desperation than anything else.

The tension in his arm trying to hold him up off of her was too much to ignore. He turned onto his side, clinging to her thigh, slowly bringing her with him until he was on his back. As she settled in this new position, she looked down where they met, a bashful smile on her face.

He couldn’t deny the wonder that overtook him at the sight of her above him, the way her mussed hair hung around her face, a few strands now loose. She was radiant, even in the night. Her nervous smile took hold in his chest, and he knew then that he would make it his goal to continue to find ways to draw that same smile from her. 

“I missed you,” she admitted, eyes cast down to the expanse of his torso beneath her hands. “I thought we might never…”

“Letha, you possess me.” Her eyes widened, her body frozen in his hands. “I think that was why it hurt so much to be separated from you.” He shifted his hips, forcing heat into her cheeks. “And I owe you an apology.”

“It is forgiven,” she insisted.

He shot her a look. “I could have lost you. It was cruel and impulsive.”

“We are fortunate your brother had the good sense to intervene, then.”

“Please, do not speak of my brother right now,” he pleaded, squeezing her thighs. 

She laughed at him, covering his hands with hers. “Let me distract you,” she offered, bringing his hands up higher, his fingers skimming her belly before she pressed his palms into her breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his hands squeezing her soft skin. 

She ground herself down on him, using him, the sight filling him with desire for her. How he ever got pleasure from anyone else, he could never know. This was all he ever needed. He could only thank the gods, the fates, whoever brought her to him. 

She surprised him as she swung her leg over him, leaving him there in the bed, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as the air hit his slick-wet cock.

Letha felt a bit unsteady on her feet as she walked through his room. She was ready to show him that she would take on the mantle, the responsibility of keeping him sated and happy. 

Possessed him? She would never get over it. 

She found the chest and lifted the lid, reaching down for the delicate crown. Even in the dim light it sparkled. Her prize in hand, she set it on her head and nearly sprinted back to Geta.

He still laid in the middle of his bed, a vision of long limbs and pale flesh. At the sound of her feet padding on the floor he craned his neck, his large brown eyes passing over her, lingering on her head, where the crown sat precariously.

His full lips parted in a grin. “Eager to fulfill your duty, Empress?” he questioned, his voice low with desire. He held his hands out for her, helping her return to her place astride his hips. 

“Do you like it?” she asked a bit bashfully, her hands leaving his to steady the crown in her hair.

He let out a deep breath. “Mea lux,” he smiled, reaching up to pull her down to his chest, “you spoil me.” He stole a kiss from her lips before he reached up to adjust the crown so it would sit more securely on her head. She leaned into every touch, relishing the sensation of his large hands on her skin, skimming, gripping, squeezing.

She was so overwhelmed by him that she didn’t notice him preparing to shove into her, her only warning a quick swipe of him through her slick. They let out matching sighs as he filled her, like this was all they needed. Letha sat up, a hand pressed against his abdomen for support as she reacclimated to him. 

“W-What exactly are the duties of an Empress, Geta?” she asked. His hips snapping up forcing a wanton moan to leave her lips. 

His flush extended from his face and ears down to his chest. “Besides the obvious?”

She nodded, shifting her hips, moving on instinct, eager for relief. 

He grunted, letting his head fall back. “Well,” he began, bucking his own hips up slightly to reward her. “You will sit with me in all the boring meetings. We will suffer together.” 

“Mhmm,” she moaned, nodding. “I can do that.”

“You will advise me, keep me in line,” he grunted. “Tell me when I’m being a fool.”

“I will relish every chance I get,” she grinned, chasing her pleasure.

“Don’t look so excited,” he chuckled, biting his lip. 

She felt her thighs burning, but she didn’t dare stop, the coil pulling ever tighter. “What else?”

“You will guard my heart, Letha,” he breathed, his eyes meeting hers.

Her hips stilled. 

Geta flipped them, bringing his face down to hers. She ran her hands up his sides, over his shoulders, tangling in his hair as he kissed her. She relaxed beneath him, her legs wrapping around his hips as he drove into her at a steady pace. 

“Can you do that?” he asked, meeting her eyes. 

“Haven’t I been already?” 

He blinked down at her, absorbing her words. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she echoed, pulling his face down to hers.

In the kiss, he quickened his pace. She felt like she was falling apart in his hands, unable to form more words. He reached down between them, his fingers finding home in the apex of her thighs, his nose brushing against hers as he urged her to her release.

She clung to him desperately, choked gasps leaving her throat as he pressed his lips against it. She clenched around him, the coil finally snapping and giving way for her hard-earned release. He pushed her through it, her hands squeezing his hips in an effort to slow him down, too sensitive. 

He sat up, pulling her to him by her hips, grunting as he pounded into her.

“Is giving you an heir part of my duties as well?”

He laughed. “Not a requirement, but–” He cut himself off, burying himself in her as he fell on top of her, pulsing into her. “–a perk.”

He settled on top of her, his lips pressing to hers before he buried his face in the side of her neck. She held him close, running fingers up and down his back, enjoying the warmth of him despite all the sweat. 

“I would stay like this forever,” she sighed, trying to fight off the exhaustion she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was sleep now that she had him back.

“I have no pressing business for two days, mea lux. You’re not leaving this room,” he spoke into her skin. “And when we do, we will be wed.”

She felt nervous, but optimistic. “Should we not have waited until after for this then?”

He lifted his head, his warm eyes settling on hers. Full of love and mirth. “Oh, no, dear Letha. I believe you said you have already taken your time to think,” he winked, “and I would not deprive my Empress of anything.”

[ fin ]

Thank you for reading!

[bunnysdollette]

₊⊹⁀➴ How to get your shit together in a slump: BD’s instant guide to feeling 100% again! ⟡﹒⪩⪨ 🫧🌸🧁

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧ Hi angels :) Thank you so much for the positive reception on my last posts. Anyway, I’ve been super down lately so I’d thought I’d create this post as a bit of a reference point for anyone who feels like their life is going off of the rails these days. This is how I get myself out of a slump. 💬

♫ todays song is…some by SOYOU

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ GET OFF THAT DAMN PHONE.. 📝 ⊹₊⟡⋆

wait! I was just joking. don’t close your phone until you finish reading (haha). anyway, take a look at your screentime for me. you might have been scrolling for hours or trying to distract yourself from how horrible you felt by doomscrolling endlessly…no. we can’t do that.

usually when I’m in a slump I feel damp, it’s not just about laziness. this could also be the result of exhaustion or a number of factors. dampness is an evil condition in chinese medicine where you feel heavy, tired, and dead. scrolling will only make this worse because you’re prolonging the pain. the first thing you should do is get up, stretch, breathe, and maybe crack a window. the airflow will make a big difference, I promise. 🌿

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CLEAN UP GUIDE. 🌸 ⊹₊⟡⋆

when my room is a mess my state of mind is a mess. I can’t do anything, I’m literally loosing my marbles bc all I can see is a messy space. if your brain is in shambles rn, the smallest amount of organization you can do right now is tidy up your room a little bit.

this doesn’t even have to be a big clean, but small steps make a big impact!… remember your space is sacred. 🧘🏾‍♀️

make the bed. doesn’t have to be fancy, just make sure everything is where it needs to be.

wipe down surfaces like desks, mirrors, and vanities. you can even include a scented spray whilst doing this to make your space smell much cleaner and nicer!! I literally cannot function when my room smells like asscheeks.

remove any old cups, or food waste that you were procrastinating from doing so. don’t want to attract any bugs.

Sweep the floor. You probably don’t notice how many crumbs are on the ground, but please just do it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ RECHARGE YOUR “STATS”. 🛁 ⊹₊⟡⋆

honestly the best way to get out of a slump is self care. neglecting your needs and body can often lead to things going downhill, depressive episodes, etc. We all forget to take care of ourselves properly sometimes, but it’s important to pay attention to our needs and personal wellness.

Ask yourself.

“Did I shower today?” ➜ Take yourself a nice, warm shower and stay in as long as you want.

Take some time to reflect on your day or anything that’s been on your mind. And be sure to wash up well, so you can feel really nice after and tap into your feminine energy. You can even add bath salts, milk, or bubble bath. It will literally make you feel like a princess. . . 👑

“Did I eat/drink today?” ➜ Go eat something.

I prefer light meals or snacks that are cold like fruit, water, or a juice when I’m feeling dead but you can also eat whatever you want. Just think about what will make you feel good and reduce the dampness as much as possible, and will prevent brain fog. Heavier meals aren’t the best for that though.

I bet you feel better already after doing these things! Remember that taking care of yourself is the most important and you are a priority.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ REFLECTING AND MAKING A GAME PLAN 🧁 ⊹₊⟡⋆

Lastly after you feel a little bit better now and you took care of yourself, I would really suggest reflecting either through journaling or shadow work questions. They’re the easiest way to just brain dump all of the crap you’ve been thinking about lately and get it out of your system in a healthy and helpful way.

You can write about things like “how have I been feeling lately?” “What’s one way I can improve in xyz” and so on. This is a mundane activity you can do at the end to organize your thoughts. Mental health is a huge thing after your physical health, as it literally not only affects your world but the world around us. Especially if you are trying to achieve your dream life/dream self, manifest anything, etc. you will need to take care of your mental health to not be consumed by your emotions and keep your mind in check.

Also something that is crucial is practicing gratitude and mentally grounding yourself. You can list things your grateful for, mediate, or exercise. Anything to get yourself into that mindset you need going forward. I personally love to listen to the wizard liz’s podcast in times like these, it’s a great motivation for me.

Remember that slumps, dampness, depressive episodes, all of it, is normal. We are just humans at the end of the day. Be a little nicer to yourself today and take some small active steps towards your goals. ✨🫶🏽

✧ thanks for reading beautiful !! ; so basically I’m thinking of maybe making a community here on tumblr for the girl bloggers that share dream girl content and stuff like that? idk let me know what u think. inbox is always open, stay hydrated and cute, buh bye 👋🏾

[sitp-recs]

I adore your blog. Any good new(ish) 8th yr drarry fics to recommend?

Thank you, anon! I didn’t read much in 2024 (or 2025 for that matter 😅) but here are are some new 8th year recs for you. Enjoy :)

Special treatment by @fastbrother (T, 3k)

Draco Malfoy has a tough eighth year.

Glory by @mintawasalreadytaken (E, 3k)

Every boy at Hogwarts knew about the hole.

When You Unfold Me by @hephaestiions (E, 7k)

Harry’s high. He knows this because Draco Malfoy has stars in his eyes.

So You Sprouted Wings! By @hoko-onchi-writes (E, 8k)

Draco’s 1983 Veela Puberty guide didn’t say anything about what to do if you accidentally seduced your roommate. Oops.

soft by @garagepaperback (E, 10k)

The first time Potter had said: harder, more, meaner—meaner, Malfoy, fuck, I thought you’d be— until Draco was, exactly, whatever he wanted him to be. Draco could fit any shape it took to keep two hands devout between Potter’s shivering, spread legs.

Equally Cursed and Blessed by @moonflower-rose (E, 18k)

Harry's back at Hogwarts to attempt his final year, again. This time he's sure there'll be no shenanigans. Well. Maybe there'll be a few.

Heartbeat by @saxamophone (E, 23k)

Harry hates Draco. Draco hates Harry. Only it's not hate, not even a little bit.

All These Winding Threads by @starquestingfordrarry (E, 35k)

The tides of Draco’s accidental magic pull him under and leave him gasping. There’s a hungry ache that sits deep in his bones, growing worse every day. Soon it’s all he’ll be, a starving skeleton clawing at its throat.

A Wizard’s Guide to Co-Parenting with Your Ex-Arch Nemesis by @thecouchsofa (T, 38k)

Harry had expected a few things when returning for his Eighth Year. Rooming with Ron, a cheeky Firewhisky down at the pub, leaving his assignments to the last minute – those were all but certain to occur.

Pillar of Salt by @epitomereally (E, 62k)

From the lake in the Room of Hidden Things, Draco knows three things:

before a fall by @eleadore (E, 64k)

A stubborn lock of hair gets tucked behind Malfoy's ear twenty-six times. Harry only counts because what else has he got to do.

Beholden by Faith Wood (E, 123k)

Draco Malfoy might not be a killer, but it turns out he's an effective painkiller. If stopping pain was all Draco's touch did, things might not be so complicated, but either way Harry can't afford to be choosy.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you know anything about what invalids wore historically, particularly in England? I’m working on a project on the history of adaptive fashion and am wondering how the multiple layers/foundational garments/styles of dress would have been adapted for the largely bedbound or homebound. Presumably many simply stayed in bedclothes, but many would have dressed up for visitors or to simply feel better, and I’m wondering how they might have simplified or adapted the traditional wardrobe for that.

Thank you!

That is a very interesting question!

I have very little actual experience with reading the writings of/about bedbound or chronically ill people, but I've also never seen any specific advice on the matter while researching clothing in general. So I imagine it varied widely from person to person, and whether someone was LITERALLY bedbound at any given time or like...able to sit in a chair by the window and receive guests.

For the former, probably just bed attire. For the latter, could be anything from loungewear like a tea gown (mid-late 19th century) or a dressing-gown/banyan for men (18th century onwards) to normal everyday clothing. Again, it just depends on the individual, I'm sure.

[beardedjoel]

i cannot stress enough that prompt #15 on the first list is SOOOO smother coded, imagine on a hot summer night joel and blossom are up late and just yapping and looking up at the stars (blossom would def make a joke about how one of the constellations reminds her of joel) and then one thing after another he's fucking her raw and deep into the ground, when they're done blossom has grass stains on her dress or something (ALSO JULIE CONGRATS ON 5K YOU FUCKING DESERVE ILY)

thank you so much for sending this in and the kind words bby! beyond appreciate your patience from sending this in months ago 🤧 sorry for the delay! i had so so much fun writing this one though hehe because it really was very smother coded and it felt so natural for them. stargazing really does feel like something they'd do together often, especially after the way it goes for them here!

sea of stars — joel x f!reader

request: "stargazing that turns into sex". sent in as part of my 5k celebration! could be read as a standalone daddy joel if you really wanted to but it is rather smother-y and written with them in mind 😋

wc: 2.9k

warnings: dry (wet?) humping, piv, dirty talk, ddlg / daddy dom!joel + sub!reader

Sticky, thick air clings close to your skin, your hopes of beating the late night heat of summer by opening all the windows dashed as the house remains a stuffy, sweltering prison. You wished for air flow more than anything, a fan, and Joel promised he would do his best to find a working one for the two of you someday. You knew it was unlikely to ever materialize, but Joel would do his damndest to never give up on something that you’d so sweetly asked for.

“Can’t sleep, daddy,” you murmur, rubbing your burning, tired eyes and rolling over to face him. Despite the heat, your naked body gravitates towards him, your longing for him unable to be quelled by it and the layer of sweat that seems to permanently live on your skin. His arms find you, bringing you close, clammy limbs tangling together but neither of you caring, lethargic in your movements.

“I know, sweetheart. ‘M sorry,” he replies, stroking your hair soothingly. “It’s jus’ a heatwave, darlin’, these usually only last a few days. Should be out of it soon.”

You nod, still feeling pitiful, sighing and rolling onto your back as Joel’s arms retract, the both of you trying to cool off again. After a few silent beats, Joel sits up in bed, watching you blink listlessly at the ceiling.

“Alright, up. I’ve got an idea,” he says.

You clamber off the mattress half in a daze and he hands you a ball of thin fabric - your nightgown that had been discarded before you got in bed. Sheer and lovely and see through, you pull it over your head, the material thankfully feather light on your skin. Joel feels better knowing you’re covered up for what he has planned. It’s odd, how deep the possession runs, knowing that nobody else is within miles of this place, but still feeling that pull to keep you as only his to see. It didn’t hurt that you always looked almost too alluring in the clothing he picked out for you.

After tugging on a pair of briefs, Joel leads you outside, snatching a throw from the back of the couch as you pass. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you step past the threshold, the cooler air sweeter than anything as it caresses your skin. 

“Few degrees makes all the difference, don’t it?” Joel says, and you quickly agree with a happy little hum. His hand on the small of your back, he guides you away from the cabin, stopping where a clearing of trees reveals the night sky to you, the moon only a tiny sliver shimmering in the distance, hardly providing any light. You strain your eyes slightly, comforted by the warmth radiating off of Joel reminding you he’s right there.

“Lay down,” he tells you, and you pause, wondering if he can see your face scrunched up in confusion as both of your eyes still adjust to the darkness. “Jus’ trust me,” he adds on at your hesitation, kissing the side of your head.

You lay down on your back, the cool grass beneath you making you smile as goosebumps briefly prickle your skin. You’d started to lose hope that it was possible to find relief in heat like this. Folding your hands over your stomach, you see Joel kneeling down next to you, hear him groan quietly as his knees crack on the way.

“Now tell me what you see, honey,” Joel says, settling next to you.

The obvious answer is right above you, twinkling dots littering the black sky. Their serene beauty transfixes you as you simply mutter, “Stars.”

“Mhm,” Joel confirms, propped up on his elbow to face you. “Pretty, ain’t they?” His fingers tease along your scalp, brushing backwards in rhythmic, soothing strokes. Lulled by his touch, you simply nod, letting the sea of stars swim in front of your eyes.

“You know any constellations?” he asks, laying onto his back to gaze at the sky with you.

“Mm, not really. Can you teach me?”

“Don’t know very many myself.” He pauses, scanning the sky for a few quiet moments. “Well I know that one there. ‘S the big dipper, but everyone knows it. Y’see the handle? An’ the big spoon part too?”

Joel’s hand envelops yours, guiding it to point towards the constellation. You squint, focusing your eyes to try and see it, but shake your head, making a contemplative little noise. “Kind of,” you say, twisting your lips to the side. “Wait… yeah, I see it, daddy! Right there…” You move your hand with his in a line, showing that you see the handle.

“You got it, princess.”

Both of your hands fall to the side, staying interlinked as you quietly observe the beauty floating above you, suspended in the clear sky. You’ve completely forgotten about the heat, the restlessness that had plagued you these last few hours. The air stays cool enough to take the edge off, your skin finally free from that grimy layer of sweat it seemed to carry at all hours during this heat wave.

“What’s that one?” you ask, finger pointing high into the night sky.

“I- I don’t know if that is one, darlin’,” Joel replies amusedly, trying to follow your eyeline. “We’ll get you a book on it, maybe, you’ll be a pro in no time.”

You give a bright smile at his offer while trying to make out more shapes in the twinkling expanse above. “What about that one?” you ask impatiently, pointing again. “It kind of looks like a face, maybe. Maybe it’s you,” you turn your head, giving him a cheeky grin as you laugh.

“Silly girl,” Joel chides you with a chuckle, reaching over to pinch your cheek for the teasing. “You know that daddy doesn’t know everything, right? Despite what it may seem.”

You giggle quietly, shaking your head. “You do know everything, daddy. Isn’t that one of the rules?”

“Knowin’ best f’you and knowin’ everything are very different, blossom,” he says playfully. “An’ especially when it comes to this… constellation stuff, I ain’t ever thought to learn them before, really. Sometimes it’s nice to just… look at ‘em. Thas’ been my philosophy, at least.”

“It is nice…” you mutter dazedly, feeling lulled by the serenity of the sky, the quiet noises of the forest surrounding you, the rustle of a soft but gladly received breeze blowing by. 

“Feelin’ better?” Joel asks, rubbing his thumb over your hand.

“Mhm. Much better,” you reply, sounding more subdued. The heat had made it harder to keep your composure throughout the last few days, leaving you on edge and worried you would inadvertently snap at Joel, resulting in a punishment. It had been a while since he’d had to dole one out, but the memories of them alone makes your body feel flush with need.

You did hate getting them, yet craved the heated attention from him that came with it. You curl a little closer to him at the thought, rubbing your thighs together.

“I can cuddle you again, daddy,” you tell him, making Joel’s chest vibrate with a tiny chuckle.

“You didn’t want to cuddle your old man before?” You can practically hear the daring raise of his brows in his voice.

“Too hot,” you insist innocently, tucking your face near Joel’s armpit and poking him in the side. He makes a noise of agreement as he playfully swats you away. You’d noticed the same from him during this heatwave - the way his body wanted to gravitate towards yours as usual, but even your insatiable Joel had found it too stiflingly hot to give you what you both desired as often as normal.

Now, however…

His energy shifts, hand slithering down your back, making goosebumps crop up as you shiver. Even less than a few days without his touch has your nerves frazzled the second his hands are on you again, greedily making their way down to your ass, squeezing hard at the plush skin there.

A needy growl pulls up from Joel’s throat, leaning forward to press his lips to your ear, wrapping them around your ear lobe and suckling. Another wave of goosebumps trails over your entire body, a helpless cry whimpered out. 

“Ain’t had enough of you these last few days…” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, raspy and heated. Your breath catches and you clench between your legs, your core moving towards his without thought, throwing a leg over his. His hand tightens on your ass, yanking you closer until you can feel the hard shape of his cock press into you. The thin fabric of both of your clothing does little to hinder either of you, and you start rolling your hips against him, whining.

“Poor baby is needy without her daddy filling her up constantly, isn’t she?” Joel taunts, his other arm slipping underneath you to grab your other ass cheek, now starting a steady, faster rhythm against him.

“Daddy…” you manage to whine breathlessly, your mind only focused on the feeling between the two of you, brain going fuzzy with need. He seems to grow harder, his cock desperate to break the confines of his clothing, to wear down the fabric of your dress with the way he’s moving you in earnest now. You gush between your legs, built up tension from the last few days that hadn’t been sated well enough coming back in full force. 

The fabric of your dress pressed further between your legs starts to grow damp, catching on your poor clit and sending little waves of pleasure buzzing through you. You moan quietly, only forlorn little breaths that Joel eats up, fueling him to keep forcing you to rut into him.

“I w-want -” you try to speak, but the bulge in Joel’s briefs reaches deeper between your thighs, your entire body twitching. 

His lips find your earlobe again, biting gently before turning to your neck and nibbling there. “What does my blossom need, hm? Use your words…”

You whine in response, thrusting inward at the same time Joel urges your hips forward, moaning louder. You pant, angling yourself to get off even easier on him, feeling an obscene amount of moisture seeping onto your dress, soft squelches filling the air as it leaks onto Joel’s briefs, too.

“Christ, baby, my little girl is a needy fuckin’ thing isn’t she,” Joel punches out in disbelief, losing control, his hips twitching harder into yours, chasing his pleasure.

“I-Inside…” you manage to choke out.

Joel tsks. “Not ‘till you give me one,” he demands. You immediately double down on the rocking of your hips, letting yourself get lost in it until your body is burning, so close to reaching that bliss. His cock leaks for you, adding to the wetness sticking to the clothing between you, sweat forming on your brow and neck and everywhere else now, too.

The climax hits you in a hurried burst, leaving just as quickly, not the release you’d been hoping for. You groan in frustration as you come down, clinging to Joel’s sweaty chest.

“Pl-please, daddy. I’ll do anything…” You beg him, your skin prickling and hot with frustration, the heat slowly making you irritable again.

“Anythin’? Ain’t no different from any other day, princess.” He teases, mocking you with that drip of condescension he does so well. It only riles you up further, and you move to untangle yourself from him to move into the position you know will give you the relief you need from him. Before you can get on your hands and knees, Joel grabs you by the waist, pulling you into where he still lays, your body fumbling into his solid chest as it clunks back to the ground. His lips press to your ear, your body tight to his as one arm holds you by the torso, the other near your neck. “Nuh-uh. You know you don’t get to decide how I take you. That ain’t how this works,” he grits out, ruthless.

Whimpering, that odd mixture of excitement and fear coursing through your veins, you smirk, struggling slightly in his hold to egg him on, your ass wriggling into his crotch. Joel clocks it immediately, moving to reach between you and tug down his briefs and tear your dress off where it already barely covers your ass.

“Gonna make me crazy, bein’ a little brat like that, baby. We both know that ain’t you. She’s a good girl. Right?” He presses his cock between your thighs, forcing it through to your entrance, teasing you when you remain silent. “Right?! Say it, sweetheart. Tell daddy you aren’t a brat.”

“I-I’m not…” Just the tip of his cock presses inward and you grit your teeth, holding back the pathetic, desperate begging you really want to spit out. “I’m not a brat, daddy, I promise. I just -”

“You need daddy’s cock, I know.” He interrupts you with a press inward of his hips at his words, sinking the thick length of himself inside of you. You squeal, the noise turning to a moan of relief as he slides in easily, your slickness already coating everything, including the way it’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.

“What are you then, if you ain’t a brat?” Joel sits perfectly still, his well practiced restraint palpable between the two of you. You want him to move, you need him to move, to fill that void you’d been missing for the last few days.

“I’m a g-good girl. I am… I am… I-I’m good, see?” You keep perfectly still with Joel for a long beat, letting him make the final call on whether or not you’ve been good enough. One of your hands grasps tightly into the grass to pour out your pent up frustration, nails digging into the earth.

Joel cranes his neck to kiss the side of your head. “That’s right. Thank you, blossom. Good girls get a reward from their daddy, too.”

You nod eagerly, and in a flash Joel’s body is on top of yours, forcing his cock to plunge deeper inside of you as you lay belly down. He yanks on your hips, bringing them upwards and begins to thrust steadily and surely into you. Your g-spot immediately feels the change in angle as he starts to press on it, your pussy pulsing around him, still sensitive from the last climax.

“Y-yes, yes…” you groan out, the top half of your torso still pressed into the ground going deeper into the grass with each bounce of your body on Joel’s thrusts. He smacks your ass and you yelp happily, heat radiating from there into pleasure at your core when he does it again.

“S-shit… baby, come for me. Want to hear you, want to feel you. Daddy a-ain’t gonna last…”

Something about his desperation pulls your insides taut, makes you clench harder around him. His hand reaches to your clit, rubbing urgently as he pounds into you. “Come, f-fuck, come, blossom. Now.”

His command, always your bidding, follows that same pattern now, sending you toppling over the edge. You come hard, your legs trembling, sinking lower to the ground so that you’re almost flat, your knees unable to hold you up. The pure abyss of pleasure rocks through you for those few, perfect moments as Joel pants above you as he pistons his hips faster. He suddenly yanks himself out of you, leaving you empty and trembling. You hear the squelch of your slickness in his hand, pumping his cock a few times before the hot splattering of his cum hits your back, soaking through your dress.

Joel sighs, collapsing next to you on his back, tucking himself back inside his briefs. “S-sorry, baby. I needed that too, I guess,” he says, sounding more sheepish than usual.

“I liked it,” you tease him, genuine in your words. You roll to your side, sitting up slightly and glancing down at your dress with a frown. Through the dark, your eyes more well adjusted now, you can see the stain smeared across the front of it. It isn’t the first time that grass stains have invaded your wardrobe from a passionate moment like this, but you like your dresses pristine for Joel, always worried about him getting it out for you. “My dress…” you lament.

Joel’s lips pull up into a smirk. “Afraid the back ain’t any better.”

You giggle, flustered and still shy after all this time at the thought of what you and Joel do together after the moment passes. “You made a mess this time, daddy.”

His lips find yours, pressing a deep kiss to them. “Can’t help that it looks good on you. You want to go change?”

“Too tired now. Want to sleep.” You shake your head, blinking at the night sky again, studying the stars with heavier lids now. The cooler outside air, despite your recent activities making you sweat all over again, starts to dry it quickly, leaving you pleasantly comfortable and sated. Joel’s plan seemed to work wonders, this setup much better than it had been trying to fight for sleep inside the stuffy house. Your limbs feel lazy and heavy, body still humming from your climax, every part of you comforted when Joel moves to hold you.

He smiles softly, placated to see you so at ease now. Joel reaches for the throw blanket, unraveling it and setting it at the ready for when you inevitably start to get chilly in your sleep. 

“You sleep then, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.”

[selfaware-promise-au]

so sorry if this goes against your rules since I haven't seen any yet but could you wright a sahsrau where reader tries to help Bailu save the xianzhou natives from their curse and in the end, they end up succeeding in doing so

Warnings: OOC. Platonic relationship. Mentions of medications.

A/N: Don't worry, your request didn't want against my rules.

----

You knew, that Blade's healing won't go unnoticed. How could it not be? The case of healed mara, that mysterious plague, would catch people's attention.

So, you won't be surprised, if the question of healing others would be asked.

But, it didn't come. Each time you attend The Xianzhou Luofu, you saw, how Alchemy Commission Personnel looked at you. Blade still was Persona non grata, but he was with you during your first visit. People saw him only once, and they see enough for rumors to start circling around.

But no one approach him or you with The Question.

Initiative is punishable, but you will take a risk.

-----

Now you spend most of your days in HSR World with Bailu. Observing mara-struck and helping her with healing other different sickness. And reading anything you could find about mara. Information was limited and, in some cases, vague. Not enough to work with or make solid theories.

But you have to start with something.

One time, when you two were having a small tea break together, Bailu thanked you.

"[Y/N], thank you for your help. Even if we didn't make any progress for now, I appreciate it."

-----

The first attempt in curing mara was an interesting one. You, with some help from Dimer, got some medication for Memory, Cognition & Dementia-Related Behaviors from the Real World. They did slow down the mara process, but didn't help patients to rid of it.

The second attempt was the most obvious. Using your blood.

You and Bailu keep "the main ingredient" of the experimental cure a secret.

Somehow, you succeed and fail at the same time.

Your blood did burn away mara-infected cells, curing it. But, your blood also burned in a process. One vial of your blood was enough to cure early stages of mara, but more serious cases required more of your blood. And there were too many patients. They need a lot of your blood.

Too much blood for one adult to give and stay alive and healthy.

You tried to write to Dimer again. Asking for an artifact, that would make you be able to give more blood.

His answer was short. Just a small reminder, that you shouldn't feel obliged to do something drastic or big to pay for your ancestors' sins. And you shouldn't experiment on yourself.

Yes, you have no obligation to help anyone from three worlds. You were just a normal person (with very questionable ancestors). You have no reason to travel between HSR World, Teyvat and New Eridu, for crying out loud! You could stay on Earth and build up HSR/Teyvat/New Eridu Gangs and left the war against divinity to them! And then, no matter if they win or lose, you will live in shame for being a coward. Guilty by inaction.

And you don't want to do that. You have empathy.

You will never forgive yourself, if you didn't try.

That's what you write in your next letter to him.

His next letter was short.

"In the eyes of the divine, you belong to the Earth, to the 'Real World'. However, you still have a deep connection to three more worlds. The connection, that will become stronger with time. Wait. Either for two more months for your blood to become more effective, or until Perversion fall, so you can think about a different alternative for mara."

------

In two months, one vial of your blood was enough to cure more serious stages of mara, and few drops were enough for earlier stages.

A quick letter to Dimer confirmed, that it's not the end and your blood will become even more effective in no time.

Slowly, but surely, the current mara-struck would be healed. As for mara-struck to come...

"So, what do you think?" You observed, how Bailu finished reading the last paper from a small stack you gave her earlier.

It was a project for a future. After Perversion will be dealt with, either you, or anyone who take the Creator's role, will make a lot of changes. One of them would be to change mara to something different.

You decided to call it Molting. While not an accurate title, it gave a good enough idea for what it will be.

In short, after a long-lived species reach eight hundred years, the regeneration process in their bodies will become dormant. During the next one hundred and fifty years they would go through a traditional aging process. Bad memory, bad eyesight, illness... Some unimportant memories will be "deleted". Nothing important will disappear. It should give a much-needed mental 'reboot' to a person.

After one hundred and fifty years passed, the regeneration process will start again. At the end, long-lived human will become good as new. Both physically and mentally.

She put the last paper down and looked at you.

"It is better, than the mara, I admit. But, Divine Healing, do they really need an aging process?"

You immediately nodded, while ignoring the title.

"Yes. Some rules must be followed. If not death, then aging. If not an internal sleep, then a rebirth, or regeneration, or..."

"Molting?" Bailu tilted her head. You nodded.

"Yes. I might come up with something else. But, for now, I only can think about that. I will do better..."

Bailu clapped her hands, making you stop talking. A grateful smile appeared on her face.

"Thank you for everything, Divine Healing. You already did enough. We already have a cure. Mara doesn't look too bad or scary anymore. And if you change mara to something less lethal and cruel... Xianzhou Alliance already in your debt, Divine Healing, but after that, you might become as important as Lan The Hunt."

You nervously chuckled. You were glad, that you have good relationship with aeons. You don't want to live in fear of being a target of Lan's hunt. Or Yaoshi's rage. Your voice was barely a whisper.

"I didn't do it for praise. I won't do it for recognition."

Bailu quickly nodded.

"I know, Divine Healing. But we couldn't just let your good deeds to be left unnoticed. Few days ago, Arbiter-Generals, Six Charioteers, High Elders and Preceptors have a discussion about you. Xianzhou Alliance are ready to follow you. We will assist you in your quest in saving three worlds. Together to the brighter future, right, Divine Healing?"

You looked away, staring at the distance.

"Yes. To the future."

[froidefille]

Hi! Welcome to my @kinkuary inspired recs! Seeing the prompts, they were simply too delicious not to share some of my favourite fics <3 Enjoy!

Day 1: age gap

📚 Do It All Over Again by @nv-md

Draco/Harry/Teddy, 2k, E

Summary:

Harry's birthday party is the perfect time for everyone to get what they've always wanted.

📚 A Darling Family by @nv-md, @lqtraintracks

Draco/Harry/Teddy, 6k, E

Summary:

Harry hates all the public appearances that go along with being the Chosen One, so Draco and Teddy concoct a plan to make the next event much more enjoyable—and rewarding.

📚 Masterpiece by @hoko-onchi-writes

Harry/Teddy, Draco/Harry, 1.7k, E

Summary:

Teddy can be anyone for Harry.

My screaming about the the above along with quotes under the cut. See you in the next one!

PS. If you have any suggestions of how to tag these, or if I should include or exclude certain info, please let me know! <3

Hi!!!!! I am just SO EXCITED about sharing some of the most delicious porn (mostly with feelings tho) 🤍

So what if the way in which we’re a family isn’t in a form other people can easily understand? We understand it.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

I'll start from the last fic - @hoko-onchi-writes is my kinkuary's revelation 🤩 From the very first day, hoko has blown away my brain with the hottest freaking smut. In this very fic Teddy's strength of emotions for Harry is breathtaking, then Draco's possesivenes while still being protective of Teddy was A++ My Tedrarry brain has read this story as Tedrarry prologue, thank you bye !!

Then, A Darling Family with its established triad situation <3 The beautiful relation between the boys, and the way Harry admires Draco with Teddy and the way Draco worships Teddy and the way Teddy both sumbits and challenges and the way all the boys have their areas of competency <3

And now, Harry’s got Draco pinned against the wall, fingers working Draco’s ridiculously complicated trousers, and they’re not so much fucking as they are fighting. You’d never guess by watching them that they stopped hating each other years ago. Mostly. Or that what they fight over most of all is me. It’s not as fucked up as it sounds. Or maybe, we’re all just fucked up enough that it works. All I know is no one’s ever loved me like they do, and I’d do anything for them.

😭😭😭

Do It All Over Again does an amazing job with different POV's AND they're out of order!! Which makes the reading this much intriguing. I am weak at the knees for Harry's moral dillemas being squashed by Draco's masterminded longing for Teddy.

Not to mention it's so hot my brain has melted a bit ^^

Kudos to the beautiful authors!! Remember to leave kudos and comments under the works when you can 💛