#that time of the month making these feelings more intense and i say this a LOT but damn i rly do feel my time on sm coming to an end

[woso-story]

The Weight Of Love And Loss - Part Six

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One Two Three Four Five

It had been a week since Alexia’s long-awaited return to the pitch. The roar of the crowd, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the sheer joy of being back in her element—it all reminded her of who she was before the injury, before the pain, before everything fell apart. But after the final whistle, when the applause faded and the stadium lights dimmed, she was reminded of what she no longer had: you.

For months, Alexia had been staying with Mapi and Ingrid, their guest room a refuge from the memories that haunted her own apartment. But now, with her comeback complete, it was time to return to her space, to face the life she had to rebuild.

Moving back wasn’t easy. The first night alone was eerily quiet, the absence of your laughter, your presence, deafening. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the framed photos she had taken down but couldn’t bring herself to pack away completely. They were tucked in a drawer now, out of sight but never out of mind.

To reclaim the apartment, Alexia started rearranging things. She moved furniture, swapped out old décor, and even painted an accent wall in the living room. She told herself the changes would help her move on, that creating something new in the space you had once shared would lessen the sting of your absence.

But some things stayed the same. The coffee mugs you both loved were still in the cupboard, and she couldn’t bring herself to replace the couch where you had spent countless nights together, curled up under a shared blanket.

---

On the surface, Alexia was thriving. She was back on the field, her knee stronger than ever. Training sessions with her teammates brought back a sense of camaraderie and purpose. Her therapy sessions continued, though now they focused less on processing her injury and more on navigating her emotions.

Her psychologist encouraged her to reflect on the changes she had made—not just in her physical recovery but in how she approached life. She admitted that losing you had been a wake-up call, a painful but necessary reminder to take care of herself and the people she loved.

Alexia still attended small rehab sessions, maintaining her knee’s strength and stability, but she no longer approached them with the all-consuming intensity she once had. Balance was her new mantra—on the field, in her relationships, and in her heart.

Her teammates noticed the difference. She was more grounded, more present, and while she still pushed herself, it was clear she wasn’t running from anything anymore.

But Mapi, her closest confidant, knew better.

---

“You’re doing amazing, Ale,” Mapi said one evening after training, her tone warm but probing.

Alexia smiled, brushing her hair back. “Thanks. It feels good to be back.”

Mapi studied her, the way Alexia’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re not fooling me, you know.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re better, yeah. Stronger, happier. But there’s still something missing,” Mapi said, crossing her arms. “You don’t have to say it, but I know it’s her.”

Alexia looked away, her chest tightening. “It’s not that simple, Mapi.”

“No, it’s not,” Mapi agreed. “But avoiding it doesn’t make it go away.”

Alexia didn’t respond, instead staring at the floor. She knew Mapi was right. She thought about you constantly—how things ended, the conversations you had in the café, the quiet hope she still carried in her heart. But you wanted space, and Alexia was determined to respect that.

---

Meanwhile, you had found your footing in a life without Alexia.

Your apartment was small but cozy, a space that felt entirely your own. Mylo, your Maltese puppy, brought light and joy to your days, his boundless energy pulling you out of bed even on the mornings when your heart felt heavy.

Work had become a source of fulfillment. The promotion you earned brought new challenges, and you threw yourself into projects that excited you. You were finally living for yourself again, no longer consumed by the emotional weight of your relationship’s downfall.

But despite your best efforts, Alexia was never far from your thoughts.

Sometimes, late at night, you found yourself scrolling through her Instagram. She looked radiant in her photos—her strength and confidence seemingly restored. You noticed the changes in her apartment, the little details in the background of her posts that hinted at her efforts to move forward.

You didn’t like or comment again, not since the “Proud of you” message weeks ago. But every time you saw her smiling face, a mixture of pride and longing filled your chest.

---

Luisa wasn’t convinced by your insistence that everything was fine.

“You’re doing amazing, but don’t think I don’t see it,” Luisa said during one of your park walks with Mylo.

“See what?” you asked, pretending not to know.

“You miss her,” Luisa said plainly.

You sighed, looking down at Mylo, who was tugging at his leash. “Of course I miss her. But that doesn’t mean going back is the answer.”

Luisa didn’t push further, but her knowing look stayed with you.

---

For weeks, you and Alexia lived separate lives, each trying to move forward while carrying the quiet ache of what had been.

Alexia focused on her career, her therapy, and her friendships. She was stronger than she had been in months, her confidence slowly returning. But every now and then, she’d catch herself glancing at her phone, wondering if you were thinking of her too.

You continued to build a life that felt fulfilling and free, Mylo at your side and work keeping you busy. But in the quiet moments—those rare evenings when the noise of the day faded—you wondered if Alexia had truly moved on, or if she missed you as much as you missed her.

The people around you saw it—the lingering shadows in your smiles, the way neither of you seemed quite whole.

Neither of you were ready to reach out. Neither of you were ready to let go.

And so, for now, you lived separate lives, carrying the hope that maybe, one day, your paths would cross again.

[sleepynoons]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU BY MARIAH CAREY– neuvillette (genshin) x afab!f!reader, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut word count – ~3,100 warnings – age gap, lingerie, oral (receiving), fingering synopsis – it's your first winter with neuvillette, and where you grew up, it's customary to celebrate by exchanging presents, eating delicious food, and spending quality time with loved ones. even though neuvillette is overwhelmed with work at the moment, you're excited to surprise him.

Neuvillette is known for his lack of personal greed, with the exception of his indisputable particular taste for certain flavors of water. Because of his asceticism, intentional or not, it had been difficult for the two of you to enter the relationship you now are in, but with the incredible aid and full support of the Melusines, the Chief Justice finally distinguished your feelings of likeness separate from others of friendliness and sociability.

To his end, though, you are known for your intensity, speech sharp with judgment, gaze watchful and vigilant, pen always in hand, scribbling away at a new manuscript or op-ed for The Steambird. Originating from Sumeru, you had been well aware of the turmoil brewing within the Akademiya, and managed to flee, even with such knowledge, to Fontaine. Here, you have been able to continue your studies from where you left off, as well as pursue your own endeavors in writing, which had long been restricted when you were a student. In fact, it was precisely due to one of your well-received yet controversial pieces in the newspaper that had landed you an opportunity to interview Neuvillette and ask him questions on questions regarding his thoughts on governance, the limitations of rule and government, and checks and balances.

You intended it to be a one-off instance, fully knowing that the Chief Justice is incredibly busy. However, you had a bad habit of losing track of time, and he is more than happy to speak in length, and your first conversation did not end on a fulfilling thought. As a result, for several months on end, you would spend two hours every three weeks with Neuvillette, which, by then, it was more than obvious you had developed intimate feelings for him.

Of course, even though you two are now a couple, the dynamics of your schedule have not differed by much. Neuvillette still has a limited amount of time to see you, though it is permissible for you to make more spontaneous visits to his office, if you are so inclined. But being the studious writer that you are, you still have not acted upon this privilege yet.

“You really should take up more of his time!”

You squint your eyes over the rim of the teacup that you are sipping from, taking several moments to think of a proper response. A part of you is still ruminating over the last draft of your manuscript, something you have been losing sleep over to make it in time for the deadline for The Streambird’s short story contest at the end of the month, but you know you should be more focused on the conversation at hand. After all, while Miss Furina is beloved by the people and is commonly seen out and about, it is still rare for her to request a private audience with someone as little of importance socially, politically, economically as you are.

“Miss Furina, I’m not sure I follow?” is the best you can manage. You take another sip as the celebrity huffs in disappointment.

“How trite! It has been so long since my last visit to the Palais Mermonia, yet even I’ve been made aware of Neuvillette’s situation! Please tell me you at least know of that!”

You open your mouth to release a hum of agreement. “Yes,” you say, “though I am not sure what his condition has to do with his schedule? Wouldn’t it be more advisable for him to go rest, instead of having me bother him?”

“You are incredibly dull, my friend.” 

You nod slowly, noting in your head that she is sassier than she lets on, easily overpowered by her stage presence and bright smile. Regardless, you are still not sure if you ae thinking on the same lines as she is.

Miss Furina gives you a few more seconds to think on your own, but seeing the lack of any recognition or realization on your face, she sighs before flinging three sugar cubes into her tea with exasperated movements. She then grumbles, “Neuvillette does not rest until the Melusines kowtow and beg. Could you not at least help save them some face and demand of him to rest a day or two?”

You watch as the sugar begins to dissolve into the tea. When instructed as such, there really is no harm in doing so. You nod again, and Furina yelps with delight, clapping her hands in a circle.

“I try my best to not get involved in his affairs anymore, but perhaps this is just my way of slowly repaying his efforts. Anyway, I need to carry on with the rest of my day. Good luck, friend, and cheers to your union!”

You realize you did not ask the more glaring questions of this conversation. You are not sure how Miss Furina knows of your relationship with the Chief Justice in the first place, or why you are the one settling the bill for lunch. You shrug as you wipe at your mouth with a tissue, thinking of ways to convince your partner on stepping away from his impending cases for at least a few hours.

The solution comes quite easily, frankly speaking. In part of your intense and serious attitude, you are also associated as being very independent, so when you send a note to Neuvillette requesting his assistance later in the evening, he replies immediately in complete compliance. That way, you did not have to risk interrupting him in the midst of his work, while still satisfying Miss Furina’s plea.

In reality, though, you only got lucky because you had happened to remember today’s date. You do not quite recall how you thought of it – it could have been a street sign or a poster that you spotted from your periphery –, but the whole point is that this day used to be very important to you as you grew up. Though you are not upset or even the slightest bit nostalgic, you think it is the perfect excuse to save your partner from undue stress and cacophony.

Thus, you make your way to several shops before returning home with two small boxes and a bag in your hands. There are a few more hours before Neuvillette is to arrive, so you shuffle all of the scattered loose leaf paper into haphazard stacks and stuff your ballpoint pens into your drawers to make room on your desk to wrap the presents you bought.

–

When your partner comes, it is already dark, overcast with dense clouds that pour incessantly. He knocks at your door just as you are stoking the flames in your fireplace, and you pace over to let him in.

You open the door to a very concerned Chief Justice.

“Are you alright?” are his first words.

You cannot help but feel guilty at deceiving your partner.

You place a hand on his arm, which he returns with the same gesture, and you rub soothing circles into the fabric of his coat. “Yes, I managed to figure it out.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to revise your draft? I am more than willing to, might you think my input may be necessary.”

With gentle tugs, you lead him to your rounded dining table for two, where there are already steaming mugs of tea settling on their matching saucers, and the two of you take your usual seats across from each other.

You feel no need to keep up your lie. “My sincere apologies, Neuvillette, but there’s actually no manuscript you need to help with. The Melusines had specifically asked of me to find a way to extract you from your work, lest you become glued to your chair.” You leave out any mentions of Miss Furina out of respect for her privacy.

“Ah, I see.”

You observe his face, careful for even the faintest of shifts or twitches to anticipate his reactions. But Neuvillette’s impartiality should never be underestimated, and his expression does not change at all.

“Are you upset?” you ask.

He glances at you, having previously been staring into his cup. “Uh, no, I… I suppose I have been dealing with a torrent of work. I apologize for having concerned all of you.”

You set your hands out, and Neuvillette holds them in his palms. You admire the feel of his gloves against your bare skin and watch as he thumbs over your calloused fingers.

You finally manage to hum, “No worries. Though, I have a few things I want to give you, so your visit’s not entirely a waste.”

His grip tightens. “It is never a waste. Forgive me, for neglecting us.”

You chuckle before slipping your hands out of his hold, and patter over to the wrapped presents that sit on the floor to the side of the fireplace.

“Here,” you say, as you set the gifts in front of him.

“What occasion are these for?” he asks, eyes glimmering with fascination. You have always loved Neuvillette’s eyes. While his face may be as set as stone, at times, you can tell fragments of his thoughts by the color and brightness in his eyes.

You have not told him much about your upbringing, and you do not feel inclined to dwell on it tonight either. So, in the briefest way possible, you explain, “When I was growing up, every year on this day, the community I was a part of would exchange gifts. There was also a large feast, with plenty to eat and drink.” You give a light shrug before finishing, “I just thought it would be nice to share a bit of my past with you.”

“I understand,” he replies, eyes and tone soft and gentle. “I’m afraid your presents will have to wait for next year.”

You know time means nothing to him, but his words still melt the rough, unromantic edges within you. You smile to yourself as you watch him unwrap the pen and bejeweled brooch you had bought him. Finally, when he moves onto the bag, you laugh as you see him tear away his gaze before shakily handing you the box from inside.

“This, um, seems to be yours.”

You release an intrigued noise before nudging the box back toward him. “It is still a present for you.”

“How so?” Neuvillette’s cheeks and ears are tinged with a warm red, and you are sure it is not solely because of the fire.

You get up from your chair, round over to his side, and stand beside him. “I forgot to mention,” you tease, “but this day’s particularly special for couples. They celebrate together, spend time together, and… need I say more?”

You and Neuvillette have slept together before, though the number does not exceed single digits despite the two of you having been together for a little less than a year. Such occurrences are usually a result of your or his feverish desires exceeding a certain boiling point, and you suppose this time, you are the insatiable one.

“Look inside,” you instruct with a flick of your chin. “Do you like it?”

Folded neatly inside the box is a red satin tank top and sleep shorts. The color shines brilliantly under the flickering of the flames, and you appreciate the contrast of it against the purple and indigo of Neuvillette’s eyes.

“Yes, o-of course. I’m sure it suits you well,” he mumbles, blush flushing deeper and deeper with every passing second.

You pat his shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll change in the bathroom, so wait for me on the bed.”

If it was really up to you, you would not even change in a separate room. But, for the sake of your easily flustered partner, you show him some mercy and grant him no more than two minutes of reprieve. As Neuvillette said, the set does fit you, in ways other than just size, and you are glad you decided to go the extra length to splurge on lingerie, as it is also a treat for yourself.

When you enter your bedroom, barely concealing the skip in your step, you see Neuvillette seated on the corner of your bed, unmoving. You doubt he has barely even breathed since you left him alone.

“Neuvillette?”

His head shoots up at your call of his name, but he fails to respond. His eyes, which were staring holes into the ground a mere second ago, are now drinking in the sight of you in your new clothes. They linger at the exposure of your neck and collarbones, the outline of your breasts, the flare of the top around your waist, and the contrast of the shorts’ red sheen against the suppleness of your thighs. You find yourself almost feeling shy at his undivided attention, and you rock on your feet, waiting for him to make a move.

Neuvillette only breaks out of his reverie once he has looked over your entirety. “You look mesmerizing,” he praises. He makes it sound like a truth, a new law he has amended into Fontaine’s books, something everyone should know and accept by now. It is your turn to shudder and lose your composure at his words, so you do not even try to respond, and instead, walk over to stand in front of him.

However, he quickly switches your positions, gliding you over to sit and him kneeling between your knees. He presses fleeting kisses on the inners of your knees, before slowly traversing up the length of your right thigh, nuzzling and pressing and licking. You squirm as he sucks on your skin, and gasp at every mark he leaves.

It is unbelievable, you think. Back in Sumeru, you were constantly teased, others mocking and prophesying that you will forever spend this special day alone. Yet, you are grown now, and being lavished and indulged by another, by your lover.

You try your best not to muss Neuvillette’s hair, so you clutch onto his shoulders. Digging your fingernails into the white silk of his shirt, you barely contain your whimpers as your partner begins to approach the heat emanating between your legs. You jump once you feel him press the pad of a finger against your hole, and cannot help but moan as he kisses your clit, the satin of the shorts doing nothing to dull the sensations.

Though Neuvillette’s actions are restrained, limited to only kitten licks and playful flicks with his fingertip, your pleasure compounds at an exceptional rate. By the time he lifts you up to slide your shorts off, you have already stained much of the fabric and are continuing to leak, wetness dripping down your inner thighs and the bottom of your ass.

“Absolutely decadent,” he mumbles, gazing with much adoration and intensity at the way your legs shake and your clit trembles.

Before you can say anything, he takes your breath away as his lips close around your sensitive bud. He taps and laves his tongue against the hood, pressure just enough to choke you from pleasurable stimulation. His hands are wrapped tightly around your thighs, to hold them in place, as well as bite his nails into your skin, although you have no idea when he took his gloves off.

“Neuvillette,” you breathe out. He hums around your clit with a more forceful suck, and you reel over, hunching over his head, hands sliding down his back and crumping his shirt within your grasp. Your partner understands your reaction as a subconscious plea to move on, and so, he licks his way down to your hole. He can feel it open and close around nothing, and it is only then that he is made aware of how painfully hard he is.

You grit out, “More – please.”

He knows he cannot further deny you. He laps at your entrance, entranced by your taste, before finally pushing his tongue in.

You are warm, sweet, incredibly tight. He pulls back, draws a large breath, and dives back in, pushing himself as far in as he can. Since the very beginning, you have been very sensitive, always reacting to even the lightest and briefest of touches, so Neuvillette knows your body must be overwhelmed by everything he is doing to you. He knows this is the case when he leans back on his heels for a quick rest, and sees your face, sweat tracing your hairline and eyes glazed over. For some reason, Neuvillette finds himself growing even larger, even harder, at the sight, and he distracts himself by returning to his place between your legs.

This time, he goes faster, accompanying his tonguing with circles of his finger around your clit. He can also hear you muffling your noises with the back of your hand.

“Please, let me hear you,” he says, between movements of his mouth and hand. “I need to know that you are feeling good.”

You are so used to practicing restraint and discipline, so you hesitate at first. But when Neuvillette presses your clit in that exact way you like and tongues you so deeply, you moan out loud, giving in regardless of your own wishes. And because he is incredible, precise, with analyzing your needs, he keeps doing it, giving you what you crave and desire over and over and over again, until you are brought over the edge.

Neuvillette groans as your hole flutters around his tongue, more of your taste filling his mouth, and he drinks in whatever he can. At this point, you are holding his head against your body, almost bucking your hips to close whatever distance is left, so that you can extend your high.

By the time the two of you peel apart from each other, you are about to unzip his pants before you notice a stain. You look at Neuvillette’s face, only to find him with a flushed, euphoric expression, and you feel surprise and delight wash over you.

“We will continue tomorrow morning, if that is alright with you,” he says, a little out of breath. You, too, are still heaving, so you nod in agreement.

Back at home, this day was spent with several people under a clear night. You would all be gossiping, dancing, discussing, and by the end of it, you would exchange gifts, though for most of it, you were left to your own devices, reading storybooks in whatever dimly lit corner you could find. This time around, though it is raining outside and there is no one else besides you and Neuvillette, you think this is the best celebration you could ever have. You would not wish for anything else, as long as you have him.

winter event masterlist

[loverboysturn]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ starcrossed!chris has a gift for starcrossed!reader

note: this is a bit further down the timeline than what has been posted so far for the starcrossed lovers au but i wanted to write something christmassy :)

you can read all the starcrossed lovers writings here and find everything else for the starcrossed universe here.

you were hating every second of this.

your parents sat at the head of the table at their annual christmas eve dinner surrounded by their group of unbearable friends, all of them talking in a superficial way about business deals, luxury events and expensive vacations they had planned.

your brother sits across from you, smiling and nodding at ease as someone who wanted to belong in this world, he had every intention of taking over the head of the family role from your father one day, however, you, especially now wanted out.

your thoughts keep drifting back to chris.

you’d spent the last few months sneaking around — whispered conversations in hidden corners, him sneaking through your window in the middle of the night, stolen kisses that left your heart racing long after they were over. the love that had blossomed between you felt undeniable, every moment you spent together felt like it was always meant to be. it was reckless, thrilling and he was all yours, the risk of getting caught only made it all the more intense, something you both knew was forbidden, but neither of you could resist.

a buzz from your phone brings you back to the moment, you glance at the screen; a message from nate.

22:17 new message from nate chris is waiting for you. meet him at his car in the diner parking lot.

your pulse quickens at the thought of seeing chris, you quickly reply back:

22:17 leaving now

you stood up, faking a smile, and excused yourself from the table, no one noticed, all too busy discussing their next business project and plotting their next big move but none of that mattered to you when you were about to see your love.

as you begin to slip away, you catch the eye of your housekeeper. the older woman has worked for your family for years and had been more of a second mother than an employee, she had known about you and chris from the start and she’d never once judged you for it. instead, she’d quietly become your ally, always ready to cover for you when you needed her.

you smile as you approach her stood in the hallway, she was waiting by the back door giving you a knowing look before glancing over her shoulder, ensuring you that no one was watching.

“I’ll cover for you” she whispers, “i’ll tell them you are feeling ill and need some time alone, they won’t question it”

your heart swells with gratitude for the lady, what would you do without her? “thank you, i’ll be back by midnight, promise”

she nods, brushing your shoulders, “just make sure you’re back by then, i will keep them all distracted until then, now go darling, your love is waiting for you”

you slip out the back door, cool air hitting your face like a breath of freedom, you walk quickly down the quiet path towards the side gate, your heart pounding in your chest with the excitement of seeing chris.

once you’d reached the gate, you glance over your shoulder one last time to positively ensure you weren’t being followed, once you felt at ease, you move quickly toward the parking lot that sat behind the old diner a few blocks away, it was a place no one would ever visit, far from anyone’s nosey eyes, perfect for moments like this.

when you reach the parking lot, you spot chris’s car immediately, he’s leaning against the car, arms crossed, waiting for you.

he pushes himself off the car as you approach, his eyes lighting up when he sees you, “you’re late” he teases, corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin, but his eyes soften as they meet yours.

you smirk back at him, “i had to make sure nobody noticed i was gone”

“get in” he says with a slight nod, motioning towards the passenger seat, “i’m freezing my ass off”

you giggle to yourself and climb into the car, heart still pounding from the thrill of sneaking away from a family event like this, chris closes the door and slides into the drivers seat.

as soon as he gets in, he hands you a small velvet box, his voice quiet, almost sounding like he’s nervous, “merry christmas baby”

you look at the box, then up at him, confusion clear on your face, “chris, what? you didn’t have to—“

“i wanted to” he interrupts with a slight shrug, trying to play himself off as casual as could be about the gift.

you open the box to reveal a delicate diamond bracelet, simple yet elegant, with small dainty shimmering stones that catch the light. it wasn’t flashy or over the top, it was beautiful. you felt a wave of gratitude as you gently touch it, realizing how much thought he had put into choosing something so perfect for you, it was a small thing, but the meaning behind it enormous.

“it’s perfect,” you say, looking over at him, but before you could say more, he reaches for your wrist, lifting it gently to place the bracelet on, “thank you” you whisper, voice full of soft and shy, then with an added breath “i love you chris”

chris’s eyes soften, never breaking eye contact, before you could say anything more, he pulls you into his arms and onto his lap, the movement smooth and natural so you’re now straddling him, those three words you’d just spoken weren’t new to him, he’d heard them from you before, but in this moment, they felt different.

“i love you” he murmurs, voice and low before pulling you into a kiss.

you respond instantly, arms wrapping around his neck as you deepen the kiss, slow at first, but as chris pulls you closer, the kiss becomes more urgent, desperate, and full of all the longing that had been building up between you.

when you finally pull away from each other, he rests his forehead against yours, hands still holding on to yours, “i’ll never get tired of hearing you tell me that” he says softly, voice quiet, “never”

you smile, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words, “good” you whisper, then kiss him again, this time with everything you have, because in this moment, nobody or nothing else matters, “because i love you” you whisper again, pressing a quick peck to his lips, “i love you” you peck him again, “i love you” and again.

chris grins, arms tightening around your waist, “and lucky for you, i love you right back” he says, pulling you in for another kiss.

started working on this last week and accidentally deleted the draft LOL then when chris got his licence, i had to bring this idea back and re-write it!!! hope you enjoy :)

pictures are not mine

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Title: Merry Christmas

(Spencer Reid x f!reader)

Their first time...

MDNI!

SEXUAL CONTENT AHEAD!

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION!

The apartment is quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint sounds of the world outside. You and Spencer are finally alone, the apartment settled after a busy week preparing for your first Christmas together. The lingering tension between you both, built up over months of subtle touches and stolen glances, is finally about to break. It's the first time you've been able to connect in this way, and tonight, you’re both determined to make it count.

You’re lying in bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light across the room. Spencer’s body is next to yours, his hand resting on your waist as you both stare at the ceiling, too nervous to speak but too eager to do anything but wait. The air between you is thick with anticipation, and you can feel your heart racing in your chest, your body humming with the energy of what’s to come.

Spencer shifts, his eyes meeting yours, and you both share a quiet, nervous smile. It’s been a while since you’ve been in this position—and the first time you shared something this intimate. But now, with the place all to yourselves, there’s no more hesitation.

You’re both ready.

You reach for him, your fingers lightly brushing against his arm as you pull him closer. He doesn’t resist, his body instinctively moving toward you. His lips find yours in a slow, soft kiss, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, the world outside a distant memory as you lose yourself in each other.

But as the kiss deepens, something shifts. Spencer’s touch becomes more insistent, his hand sliding down your body, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before moving lower. You gasp at the contact, your body responding immediately to his touch.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if checking to make sure you’re okay, that you’re still with him. You nod, your breath coming faster now, a rush of heat pooling in your stomach.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, his voice low and hesitant, though the desire in his eyes is clear.

You nod again, this time more firmly. “I’m sure, Spence. I want this. I want you.”

He exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his hands moving to your hips as he shifts, positioning himself above you. His lips return to yours in a fevered kiss, and you can feel the intensity of his desire, the way his body responds to yours, as if it’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

His hands begin to explore your body, caressing your skin with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. You close your eyes, savoring the feeling of his touch, the way his hands feel on your body, the way he’s completely focused on you.

But then, you feel it again—the shift but this time somehow more insistent than before. The way his touch becomes a little more daring, a little more confident. You can feel the heat between you both growing, and you can’t help but let out a soft moan as his lips trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

Spencer pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice rough with desire.

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest. The words feel foreign on your tongue, but you want this, you want him, and you want to be open, to let him know exactly what you need.

“I want you, Spencer,” you whisper, your voice shaky with anticipation. “I want you to touch me... everywhere.”

He groans at your words, his hands moving quickly to undress you, his fingers trembling as he removes each piece of clothing. You follow suit, your hands working just as quickly, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

When you’re both finally naked, you pause for a moment, your eyes tracing the lines of his body. You’ve seen Spencer in all sorts of situations, but seeing him like this, vulnerable and exposed, takes your breath away. His lean, toned body is more muscular than you expected, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger.

Spencer notices your eyes on him, and a small, teasing smile plays at the corners of his lips. “What is it?” he asks, his voice low and filled with curiosity.

You swallow, a blush creeping up your neck. “You’re... more built than I expected,” you admit, your voice soft. “You’re... beautiful.”

He chuckles softly, his fingers gently brushing your cheek as he leans down to kiss you again. “I think I should be the one telling you that,” he murmurs against your lips.

The kiss deepens once again, and this time, there’s no holding back. Spencer’s hands are everywhere, his touch becoming more urgent as he explores your body, his lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. You gasp as his lips find your nipple, his tongue flicking against it in a way that makes your body arch toward him.

“Spence,” you moan, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pull him closer. “Please, don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He moves lower, his lips tracing the path down your stomach, his fingers slipping between your legs as he gently teases you. The sensation is almost too much, and you can’t help but squirm beneath him, your body craving more.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “What do you want me to do?”

You don’t hesitate this time. “I want you to make me feel good, Spencer,” you say, your voice shaky but confident. “I want you to make me cum.”

His eyes darken at your words, and without another word, he moves between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance. You gasp at the feeling of him, the heat of his body pressing against yours, and before you can say anything more, he enters you slowly, carefully.

You both gasp as he fills you, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. Spencer’s eyes never leave yours as he begins to move, his thrusts slow at first, but gradually picking up speed as you both get lost in the rhythm. The pleasure builds steadily, and soon, you can’t think about anything except the way he feels, the way his body moves against yours.

“God, you feel so good,” Spencer groans, his voice ragged with desire. “I don’t ever want to stop.”

You can’t help but moan in response, your body trembling as the pleasure intensifies. Spencer picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more insistent. You’re close now, so close, and when you finally reach your peak, it’s like everything inside you shatters. You cry out his name, your body convulsing beneath him as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

Spencer follows soon after, his body tensing as he fills you to the brim, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both try to catch your breath.

For a long moment, you just lie there, tangled in each other, the quiet of the room surrounding you both. Spencer kisses your forehead, his hand gently stroking your hair as he whispers, “Merry Christmas Y/N,”

“Merry Christmas, Spence,” you reply, your heart full as you snuggle closer to him, the warmth of his body comforting you in a way nothing else can.

Tonight was everything you both needed. And in this moment, with him by your side, you know that no matter what the future holds, you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

[venstm]

I want to preface this by saying that I am holding myself accountable for not stepping up and either breaking off the friendship sooner or defending myself properly. As it stands even now I am not someone who copes well with confrontation and would rather stay as far away from it as possible. I’m speaking now because other people are coming forward with their stories and experiences. Whilst I have very few actual screenshots of conversations please understand that the interactions I’m discussing impacted me quite a lot mentally. It’s up to you to decide if you think I’m overreacting but by the end of those six months I had basically decided I no longer had a place in the rpc where I was welcomed after losing that friendship. I’ll be putting this under a read more so look at your own discretion. I won’t be speaking about this again after this.

If terios / ty sees this and decides they wish to unblock me and speak about it in order to see these feelings discussed and resolved im okay with that and if anyone else who has been in a similar situation needs someone to talk to or discuss it with in also open to that.

At the beginning of our friendship things were pretty intense and feeling like you were the main writing partner for someone who had already established themselves a place in the rpc was such a good feeling ? It’s like you really belong and you have someone who is so invested in your portrayal that you feel really important. There were many times where this once good feeling became tarnished by negativity, bitterness and what to me, felt like being bullied or belittled.

I’ll touch on a few things I really do remember quite clearly and be understanding that my adhd / ptsd and other things impact my capacity to retain information all the time I try to be very clear with this when talking with mutuals to avoid them becoming frustrated when I don’t remember everything all the time. they would tell me I wasn’t listening or paying attention when I tried to explain this.

there was a lot of time monopolising that I ended up enabling, this one in particular was mentioned to me by my partner who ended up feeling like I really distanced myself from them and even when I did want / try to spend time with them terios’ reaction would always be to change their tone to speaking bitterly or giving off this change of energy and if you recognise it you know it’s the sort where you’ve done something wrong and you need to fix it immediately.

There were also times where other friends became an issue, terios had problems with someone I was interacting with on dash. At the time I wanted to be in their corner because we were really close, they were my closest friend but these people had also been nothing but nice to me and I didn’t have issues with them. This tension went on for a while until terios let me know that I was two faced for not taking their side fully and I ended up blocking them which I thought was the right answer to appeasing someone who was upset. Yes, this was my fault I should have said no but they were a really important friend to me and I wanted them to feel like they were heard and understood. In the end I lost both of those friends and another friend who told me that if I continued to always take terios’ side in arguments like that I would have no one else left but them in the end.

It also happened when I mentioned that I was watching things with my mutual, we had only just started writing again after not speaking for a long time and terios was instantly making comments about it, usually vague and never good and when I finally said hey you know this isn’t cool to be saying this their response was just that I should have told them that sooner.

They were always unpleasant about Gepard ships that weren’t ours and I don’t know if that was because they just had a bias or not but I remember plotting an almost au verse with a firefly writer and dropping it because they were telling me when and how would that happen why is this something you’re writing ? basically implying that I owed it to some how justify what I was deciding to write for my muse ?

This also happened when I was creating an au for Gepard around being a vampire hunter I was so excited about it and I wanted to tell them and their response was to pick it apart reminding me oh this doesn’t make sense for Gepard’s canon age or this doesn’t make sense for his family and whilst I get caring about canon it really made me feel ? like my spark had just been squashed something I was so excited about just being torn to shreds completely and I never spoke about it again, tobias was there when this happened I had just came home from the gym in tears because I was so upset about it.

As those who interact with me know I am someone who is always earnestly trying to expand my vocabulary and learn new ways to incorporate cool stuff into my writing and there was one time one time when I used a word wrong and I did apologize for it and they ended up bringing it up over and over again for three months and whilst it was a joke in their eyes I don’t doubt it really just made me not want to try to improve my writing anymore and minimised myself to be someone they would approve of.

it also felt like anytime I began to get the confidence to bring up how I was feeling that it was turned around to make me feel worse or shit and like the whole situation was my fault rather than looking at it and both taking accountability and working to find a solution. I found this so challenging because so many times I left feeling like I was truly in the wrong because they had told me I was.

SC:

The last thing I will mention is that they will jump between gepard writers quite frequently. I wasn’t on the receiving end of this but I do know that when they blocked me only a day later then were dming a mutual and friend of mine who they had all but ghosted for those six months asking to write again. While this isn’t the worst thing ever I can only imagine how shitty that must feel and I know when they spoke to me and I said this it really hit home for them that they had been second best for those whole six months despite being there before me. This has happened with other Gepard writers too not just me and that person.

In the end a lot of this shit could have been amended if I told them your behaviour is shitty and it’s making me feel like shit but who wants to be put in a situation with a friend or writing partner where they feel like they have to make that choice.

I still do think terios is a good writer and they’re committed to the sampo they’re shaping but there are ways to interact with people that are kinder and not always with this undertone of being nasty or mean or spiteful. Again, if they or anyone else does want to talk to me about this they can and I trust that everyone can decide who they want to write with themselves. I just want my feelings and story to be heard and others to know they can speak up too.

[pugh-bug]

First Christmas

Yelena Belova fluff x female reader

Could also be read as x any gendered reader as neutral language was used incidentally

This is just a super short fluffy fic I was thinking about while in my room staring at my Christmas tree thinking about Yelena and Nat. I’ll definitely be writing more Yelena stuff btw, she’s my wife afterall. Merry Christmas for anyone who celebrates🎄if this season/month is difficult for you I hope it passes as quickly and smoothly as possible and if not have an amazing time doing whatever you get up to x

———————————————————————

It was Christmas Eve, the first you’d had since meeting Yelena, and you wanted her to enjoy it fully. Whilst she was out you’d decorated the flat with an inordinate amount of rainbow Christmas lights. In each corner you’d placed tacky light up snowmen and on each table you’d placed various ornaments and trinkets from your personal collection of Christmas crap. As for the tree, that had been tricky, but you’d managed to put something quite nice together with the help of too much tinsel and ribbons.

When your phone flashed that it was 8pm you admired your handiwork, feeling satisfied and hopeful that Yelena would be cheered. There was always that worry she’d climb into bed without saying a word, covered in cuts you’d have to clean while she retreated into her head but when the door opened you knew it was a good night.

“Y/N!”

You struggled to search her face for signs of injury, distracted by her beauty that never failed to dazzle you. She dropped her bag, refusing to take her wide eyes off the decorations you’d laid before her. “Did you rob a toy store for me?”

“No but I would.”

You watched her reactions intently. “Do you like it?” Without hesitation Yelena beamed at you, outstretching her arms for a hug. “I love it, you are so sweet.” Her Russian accent shone through as she spoke in your ear, hugging you tightly.

“I made snowman cookies,” you gestured to the nearby plate as Yelena clapped her hands in approval. “And I’ve got a load of Christmas movies we can binge, if you’re up for it.” As your girlfriend excitedly flipped through the pile of dvds you’d brought out to play you glanced at the presents under the tree.

Yelena had only recently opened up to you about her childhood and how her parents weren’t really her parents and that Christmas wasn’t real for her, just for show. It had broken your heart to hear her so quietly recall opening empty boxes only to pretend to celebrate Easter a moment later for the camera. She deserved real presents, real memories and a real Christmas. You’d bought her a lot, you knew that, probably too much but she deserved it. She was your girl.

Yelena rolled her sore neck in a circle, trying to crack it. When it did she turned to look at you - watched you watching her every movement and smiled knowingly. “Pyjamas?”

“Trying to get me out of my clothes already Y/L/N?”

She was even more beautiful when she smiled, her large eyes lit up. They were so intense and emotive but soft and calming all at once, you felt a surge of love towards her as you watched her change. Neither of you had said it yet but the feeling was there and only growing stronger. As had become ritualistic, you kissed every scar on Yelena’s body before doing the buttons for her. Something about helping a Black Widow assassin with basic tasks made you both feel comforted. Safe.

“Elf or Home Alone first?”

Yelena shrugged and you remembered that of course she’d seen neither.

——————————————————————

You managed to make the cookies last until half 11 at night, then it was time to break out the quality street tin while you half watched Elf. “These are a-ma-zing.” Yelena grinned before scoffing several orange creams as you had the last green triangle. You beamed at her, feeling endlessly lucky that she was yours at all.

“I got you something…”

She can’t help it, her eyes narrow in suspicion. Why would you be giving her something?

“I know it’s not officially Christmas yet but it almost is.” You pulled out the bag from under the tree and passed it to Yelena whose eyes were glazed over. A bag? Just for her? Of…presents? She hesitated, looking at you for permission just waiting for it to all be either a joke or a dream.

“Open them, they’re yours.”

Her heart sang at your words. She opened the first enthusiastically: lipstick and lip liner for the bolder makeup she’d been enjoying recently. “I love this colour!” You grin, watching her open the earrings and heels next. Everything you bought was bold and beautiful, like her.

“If you don’t like them I’ll take them b-“ but before you could finish Yelena’s body hit your own as she pulled you into a forceful hug. You were sure in that moment, as her hair got caught in your earring and her fingers gripped your back, that she’d never held you so tight. “Merry Christmas.” You whispered, still holding her. She hadn’t told you but ever since the two of you had met, Yelena had been half expecting you to find some excuse to leave - that you’d find yourself unable to accept her or see her as a normal girlfriend. Nothing could have been further from the truth. She was everything and more.

“I love you.”

Shit.

You’d said it aloud. Hugging her back, burying your flushed face in her plaited hair you prayed for a do over. A pause button until she turned your head to face hers and kiss you gently. “I love you too.” she beamed. Something damp dripped onto your fingers that cradled Yelena’s face, that was when you realised she was crying. All of your body screamed at you to ‘fix this’ ‘help her’ but Yelena only rubbed your knuckles and kissed your other hand, a warm smile on her lips. “Finally, a good Christmas.”

——————————————————————

Masterlist

[sanasanakun]

Jimithon Mouthwashing is such a good representation of untreated, enabled NPD like it makes me want to squeeze the life out of him. I'm endlessly fascinated when watching him interact with his crew, surroundings, and himself because he's so fucking lost in his own sauce. It's insane. If I'm being real, it makes him my favorite character in the game.

It's a little scary to say, but watching Jimmy is like seeing a mirrored version of myself two years ago before I truly committed to treatment for my NPD. He's like a shadow. The opening line "I hope this hurts," which I believe comes from Jimmy right before the crash, is such a poignant statement. It's a simple line, but I can tell you from experience that the desire to hurt others when in a narcissistic rage is overwhelming. It's such a good line to sum up Jimmy's character in that moment. Luckily, in the real world, I had my friends and family there to catch me when I hit my lowest, even though I'd hurt them so many times. Jimmy probably could've used friends to force him into therapy (cough cough Curly cough cough)

[lollytea]

Huntlow situationship gives me such intense brain termites you don't get it

[whenthegoldrays]

Hmm

[curiosityjams]

*

[classyrbf]

SHE SAID IT'S HER FIRST TIME! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...older bf!nanami finds out he’s your first time and he intends to make it very special

INFO...older bf!nanami x virgin fem!reader, age gap (earlier 20s, early 30s), virginity loss, consent checks, praise, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy eating, penetration, slight blood, slight crying, creampie, nanami grows kinda feral, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Having Nanami as an older boyfriend was such a joy. The maturity, thoughtfulness, communication, love, commitment, and patience you received from him was more than you could have ever asked for. You were always so open with him, telling him everything and just being the annoying girl friend you were. But, there is one thing that you’ve kept hidden for the last six months of your relationship.

Every time things got heated between you Nanami while making out or getting handsy, you always backed out last minute telling him that you “weren’t ready” and he always understood and respected your boundaries. Though, you are ready. If you were to lose your virginity to anyone you’d want it to be your sweet loving boyfriend. But voices in the back of your head start to make you overthink, wonder if he’ll even want you anymore if you confess to him.

It isn’t until you’re here on his bed, hands tangled in his hair while kiss him slowly, passionately. His hands are roaming all over your body, still careful to be respectful. You’re pushing into him, smiling in between kisses. “Have I ever told you how much of an amazing kisser you are?” He chuckles, peppering kisses along your jawline.

A blissful sigh escapes your lips before you answer, “no.” You shake your head, his lips traveling lower down to your neck. Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, enjoying the moment. His tongue glides along the skin of your neck, gently sucking and kissing, earning little whimpers from you as a reward. His hand grabs at your leg, hooking in over his waist as he pushes his hips into you.

Your breathing grows shallow, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. You gulp, feeling things grow more intense with each passing second before you push Nanami away. “I’m sorry, Kento, I just—”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand you want to take your time with this kind of thing.” He gently grabs your hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His brows furrowed as he studies your features, eyes wandering every where else but into his. “What’s wrong, hm? You know you can talk to me,” he says in the most smooth voice, one that makes you wanna spill every secret. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. “Sweetheart?” He draws out the pet name, he knows something is on your mind.

“Ken, I feel bad for keeping this from you for so long, but,” you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, “I’m a…virgin.” You finally look in his eyes, clenching your jaw. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, ears ringing loudly it almost drowns out your heart beat.

His lips part, eyes widening at your words. Deafening silence falls upon you like a tidal wave and you feel the embarrassment rush in. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything I…I’m just gonna go.” You quickly scramble to your feet, grabbing your sweater from off of his bedroom floor. Maybe those voices in your head were right. Why would a man like Kento want anything to do with an inexperienced girl like you, compared to a woman who would know how to please him, give him a what he wants.

Just as you were about to walk out his bedroom, you feel a tug at your arm pulling you back until you hit his broad chest. “Where are you going?” He asked, looking at you. “I never said to leave, sweetheart.” He walks you back over to the bed, taking your sweater from your hands and placing it on the back of his chair. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for the next words to leave his mouth. Eyes follow his every movement, watching the way he walks over to you and kneels down in front you, grabbing your hands in his. “Look at me.” And you do, eventually, meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

You find it hard to speak, to even get a peep out. Nerves are shot and it feels like your stomach is twisting in knots. “I just thought that—”

“That I’d be upset you’re a virgin?” He asked, putting it all out there. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sweetheart,” he chuckles, flashing a smile at you, “you’re too cute for your own good.” He caresses your cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so nervous each time we’ve made out.” He licks his lips, taking a deep breath in before speaking again, “listen, we don’t have to rush into anything. You should’ve just told me, but I understand your feelings.”

You blink a couple of times, your heart rate finally drops, feeling more comfortable with the situation. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders, and even more importantly, you were glad Nanami took it so well. “But, I am ready.” You look away from him.

“What?” His brows furrowed, confusion written on his face.

“I’ve been ready, just been scared, nervous…I don’t know.” You shrug, your voice getting quieter with each word you say.

His hand comes up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he directs your gaze back towards him for the millionth time. “Are you asking me to be your first?” He asks in such a gentle tone, eyes carrying a look of adoration in them. Sheepishly, you nod.

“Always wanted it to be you, Ken. You’re so kind to me, and so patient,” you admit.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first.” He kisses the top of your hand, soft lip pressing against your skin as he stares into your eyes. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?” He smirks.

Everything in you is telling you to pounce on this man and go at it like animals with how he was treating you. It only made him a hundred more times attractive than he already was. Your lips find his as you both fall back onto the bed, resuming the make out session from minutes ago, only this time it’ll actually lead somewhere. The kisses felt more feverish, more passionate, something that’d you been craving this entire time.

“Can I take your clothes off?” He asked, placing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll take mine off too.”

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. The fabric slipped over your head, your first instinct was to cover your chest, feeling completely vulnerable in this position. His hands carefully undid your pants, pulling them down along with your panties, discarding the items of clothing on the wood floor. You covered yourself up, shutting your legs and holding your chest.

As you watched him get undressed, your eyes landed upon the obvious tent in his shorts, leaving you turned on. His body seemed liked it was carved from the gods, toned biceps, shredded six pack. He looked like he could just easily toss you around, put in whatever position he wanted. Not to mention, you could see how big he was through his boxers, your nerves starting to wrack up again as you began to wonder if it’d even fit. And once he pulled them down, your eyes widened and worry flooded your face.

Nanami let out a light laugh at the look on your face. “What’s the matter?” He asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs.

“Do you think it’ll fit? It’s just…really big, Ken.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander. He was thick, and slightly long, which is reasonable excuse for your worry.

“It might hurt a little, sweetheart, but that’s why I need to prepare you, yeah? Make it feel good for my sweet girl. Now, don’t hide yourself from me, okay? I wanna see all of you, praise all of you.” He leaned over, kissing your lips again, trailing down further with each one. His hands replaced yours, gently groping your tits, squeezing them in his hands. “Such soft and pretty tits.” He kissed each one. “Can I suck on them? I promise you it’ll feel good.”

Once he gets your approval, he wastes no time, his lips latching onto your hard nipple, hot tongue swirling around the bud. His eyes fluttered shut, a muffled moan escaping his lips. Your hands find themselves in his hair, little pants and whimpers leaving your lips at the foreign sensation. His other hand pulls at your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he gets lost in thought. He pulls his head up, hazy eyes staring back at you. “Doing okay, baby?” He asks.

“Yes, please keep going.” You bite down on your bottom lip, earning a smile from his as he moves over to your other nipple, tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive skin before taking it in his mouth, suckling on it. “Mmm, Ken,” you whimper, tugging at his hair.

“Feeling good?” He places kisses all over your tits, his touches so gentle. You buck your hips up towards him, grinding against him. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re feeling needy, aren’t you, baby? Go on, you can tell me.” The flat of his tongue lays against your nipple again, slowly licking, teasing you.

You bring your hand up to your face, covering it, too embarrassed to look at him, to let him hear you. But with each flick of his tongue more whimpers spill out of you, overflowing. His warm lips press kisses to your sternum, traveling down towards your stomach, getting lower and lower until you jolt up. “What…what are you doing?” You ask, dumbly. It was clear what his intentions were with his mouth just inches away from your cunt.

“Just sit back and relax.” He caresses your side. “Open up for me, wanna get a taste,” he murmurs. He gently pushes your thighs open, scooting lower on the bed. His mouth slightly parts, eyes gravitating towards your wet cunt. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he chuckles, looking up at you. He rests his head against your thighs, lips kissing your skin, worshipping you, savoring you. He plans to tease you as much as possible, he wants you ready.

You body twitches when you feel his fingers ghost over your throbbing cunt, light touches making you yearn for something you’ve never even had before. He kisses down your thighs and towards your pussy, pausing when he finally reaches. He looks up at you for approval and when you scoot your hips closer towards him with the cutest whimper, he dips his head down between your legs and presses the slowest kisses on your clit. The way you gasp makes him smirk, he wonders how you’ll sound when he uses his tongue.

Finally, you feel the flat of his hot tongue dip between your soaked folds, pushing its way up your slit and finding your clit. You sit up on your elbows, brows furrowing in pleasure as Nanami wraps your his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place. He moans against you, pulling you closer towards him as he starves for more of your taste.

He flicks his tongue across your clit, his chin coated in your juices before he moves his tongue lower, tongue fucking you. You bite down on your plump lower lip, quietly moaning while your eyes watch his every movement, like you were studying him. His tongue slithers back to your clit, circling it before he gently sucks on it. “Hah, fuck,” you gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his blonde locks of hair.

He lifts his head, licking his lips to not waste any drop of you. “Hey, pretty girl, can we try something?” His voice is gentle, a sense of security in it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The pad of his thumb rubs your clit in circles, his other hand caresses your thigh. “Wanna try fingering you while I eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for me,” he explains.

You gulp, nervously looking down at his hands. “Will it hurt as much?” You ask.

“Might hurt a little, but it’ll help. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I never wanna hurt you.” He sits up, moving closer towards you.

You nod slowly, “okay,” you meekly say. Nanami, wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting your leg around him as you both lay on your sides.

“You ready?” He asks, kissing your cheek, his fingers rubbing your slick over your entrance and back over your clit, trying to get you prepared. “Just gonna do one finger for now until you want more,” he whispers into your ear. Slowly, he slides his thick digit into your entrance and you immediately let out a pained sigh. He removes his finger, pressing another kiss to you cheek. “Take your time, baby. You’re okay. Hold on to me if it gets too much.” He continues rubbing your clit in slow circles until you give him the nod of approval to try again.

He pushes his finger past your folds, feeling your walls clench around him as he goes inch by inch. “Mmm.” Your eyes screw shut as you cling onto his broad shoulders, feeling the sting of the stretch. He finally gets it all the way through and you’re panting, clawing at his skin.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassures. “Hey, look at me,” he grabs your face in his direction, “it’s okay.” He kisses your lips as you whimper against his. “I’m gonna start moving my hand now.” You hold onto him tighter, the burn making you wince as he pulls his hand back and pushes his finger back in, slightly gaining in speed.

You can’t seem to look away from him, melting into his touch as the pain slowly turned to pleasure, feeling your body accept him just like you wanted this entire time. He presses his forehead against yours, bodies pressed up against one another as you fight back the urge to kiss him until you’re breathless. Your hips rock into his hand, following his movements. “Want more,” you whimper, nodding at him.

“Want more, pretty? Yeah?” He pecks your lips, carefully sliding his ring finger into your entrance. You whine at the stretch, taking in a deep breath when you feel his fingers curl up, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your cunt squelches around his fingers, sucking them in. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, working fingers faster until you’re a moaning mess.

Wet kisses make their way down your neck, moving lower down to your chest as he repositions himself at the end up of the bed, fingers still curling inside you. He pushes one of your legs back, eyes intently watching the way your pussy takes his fingers so well. Without warning, the flat of his tongue presses down your swollen clit. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, gripping at the sheets below you. Your body shivers with pleasure, the sensation of his tongue and fingers sending you to cloud nine.

Your head falls back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, legs threatening to close around his head. He slurps your pussy, tongue working its way through your folds to get every last drop. He’s moaning at your taste, breathing heavily through his nose. His hand pushes your leg back farther, nearly up to your chest, as he works hard to drive that orgasm out of you. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cry out, clutching at his hair, pushing his head down when he sucks on your sensitive clit once more. “Ken, baby, I think—fuck!” You squeal, rocking your hips on his face. Your legs close around his head as your orgasm arrives, body quivering, and every touch is heightened. That doesn’t stop Nanami, low eyes watching how prettily your back arches off the bed, your walls squeezing his fingers. “Hah! Ah! Yes!” You moan.

Nanami finally lifts his head, chest heaving up and down as he looks at you with the most love in his eyes. “Fuck, baby, you did so good. Come here.” He rushes to plant his lips on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His dick is throbbing, oozing pre from the tip just from watching you cum. “You alright?” He asks, petting your cheek.

“I’m okay.” You nod. “Thank you.” The sweetest smile spreads across your face, one that makes his chest fill with warmth. “But, I think I’m finally ready.” You look down towards where you two meet, only inches away from one another.

“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable,” he says softly.

“I promise I am. Just…go slow,” anxiousness riddled your tone.

“Of course. Let me know at any time if you wanna stop.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. The nerves build in your chest, and your stomach fills with butterflies. He repositions his hips, rubbing his length through your folds, smearing his precum. He lightly groans, slowly moving up and down, nudging your clit with each thrust. Nanami notices you watching, he can see you’re still nervous. “Baby, look at me, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He gently grabs your face, staring into your eyes before his fat tip pushes its way through your folds. Your eyebrows raise in surprise before furrowing. He goes as slow as possible before removing himself, letting you take a breather.

You spread your legs further before another attempt, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pushes into you again, inch by inch you feel the stretch, the stinging sensation making you grit your teeth. “Ah!” You bury your face in his neck, when you feel his hips finally meet with yours.

Tears fall down your cheeks, and he’s quick to kiss them away. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let’s stay like this for a minute.” He wipes your tears, massaging your thighs as you try to accustom to his size. “Gonna start moving now.” He pulls his hips back, his length coated in a mix of your juices and slight blood. “Oh, your bleeding baby.” He looks at you with the most empathetic expression.

“Mmmph, sorry, I’m sorry.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as it came to mind that it was most likely on his sheets.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s completely normal.” He kisses your lips as he pushes his hips against your again, the head of his cock grazing over a sweet spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?Hah, my sweet, sweet girl—fuck,” he breathily chuckles. And now he’s moving faster, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like you never want to let go. “So fucking tight,” he grunts.

You feel so full of him, like he was made for you. His dick dragging along your walls, his hands holding you close, wrapping around you as he whispers praises in your ear in the most sweetest voice. Your eyes roll back, nails leaving marks on his skin, your toes pointed. He’s fucking you into the mattress, but being oh so gentle about it. “It feels so good,” you mewl as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

“This pussy was made for me baby—oh shit—taking me so fucking well. You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He presses into you, each thrust sending your mind spiraling as shivers run down your spine, your body covered in sweat. Nanami squeezes you tightly, kissing your neck, and nibbling at the skin.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” It feels like your breath is being sucked out of you, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. “Gonna cum!” You cry out. “Hah—yes, yes!” He keeps the same rhythm, tip of his dick kissing your cervix before your shaking under him.

He holds you tightly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as you cum around his dick. Your hands cup his face, searching his eyes. “That’s my girl, let it all out,” he says. He can feel you clenching down on him, the feeling making his dick throb harder. “Always be my good girl, right baby?” He asks. And all you can do is nod, when he starts fucking you faster, almost like he’s grown feral. “It’s good that you know because I’m about to fuck you like you aren’t.” He pushes your knees to your chest, lifting your hips slightly so that he reaches the deepest parts of you. “Nngh, fuck!” He grunts.

“Ken! Oh fuck, fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, the bed rocking and creaking with each other his hard thrusts. A hand clasps over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your screams of pleasure.

“Pussy feels so good, sweetheart. Can’t get enough—fuck—I’m sorry,” he heavily pants. Strands of blonde hair cling to his forehead, eyes fixated on watching his dick disappears in and out of you, your pussy creaming around him, leaving a white ring around the base. He can feel you clenching down on him again, your nails leaving crescent marks in his forearms as you’re cumming for a third time tonight, barely able to form words. “Atta girl. Look so pretty cumming on my cock,” he smirks.

Your back arches into him, legs quivering as he thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier. “Nnngh, shit,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum—ah!” His brows furrow as he fucks you harder, a primal feeling rises in him as he thinks of cumming inside of you for the first time ever. “Baby,” he says with desperation, “baby, let me cum inside you.” A rosy red spreads across his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.

Your arms reach out to him, dragging him down for kiss, legs locking around his waist as you push him closer to you. Nanami groans into the kiss and you swallow every last one as his seed fills you up, coating your walls. He slowly fucks you, making sure to get every last drop of his cum in you before pulling out.

“Oh my god, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. You laugh with him before he rolls both of you over, you now on top of him. He caresses your cheek and you melt into his hand, a blissful sigh leaving your lips. “You did absolutely amazing.” He smiles. “You doing okay, though?” He wonders, fingertips tracing patters on the small of your back.

“Yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes shut, “I’m doing great actually.” You smile. You rest your head on his chest. “Thank you, Ken.”

“No, thank you. I’m glad that you trusted me to be your first, honestly. It means a lot to me.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You’ll always be my girl.” He continues tracing your skin.

“Really?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Promise me?” You pout, batting your lashes.

“I promise.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lips before you press a kiss to it. He chuckles at the small gesture. “Let’s get in the shower, together, yeah? Maybe order some food? You deserve it.”

[your-internet-bf]

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*

[ravegore]

Ok now that my rage is mostly past i am in more lalaland. Glad to put my energy towards being happy and improving my life with my friends that i love and trust

[rafeysbunny]

brother's bsf!rafe popping your cherry

there is absolutely nothing that rafe craves more than to fuck you, his best friend's little sister. he knows it is wrong, but he can't help himself when you're so fucking pretty, always wandering around in those cute little skirts and tops you like to wear, round tits almost spilling out of the thin fabric.

god, he's so obsessed with you.

you're always in his mind, all the fucking time, the thought of you haunting him every night when he goes to bed. and every single one of those nights, he ends up jerking off at the thought of you, like a bloody perv, to be able to finally fall asleep.

he knows topper'd kill him if he ever finds out about his massive crush on his baby sister, but that fact doesn't stop him from getting you alone in your guest bathroom as soon as the alcohol knocks your brother out cold on the couch. and now he has your gorgeous body pinned against the sink, the party still in full swing outside in your house while you two sloppily make out.

he's hard as a rock inside his slacks just by kissing you, the taste of your cherry chapstick lingering in your plump lips, as if you weren't just sweet enough already. it doesn't help his case the way you're whimpering so prettily into his mouth, your body arching against his as he grips your hips tightly, which has the silky fabric of your skirt all crumpled.

he tears his lips away from yours, panting heavily as he stares down at you with pure lust in his eyes. "fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful..." he reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "listen to me, baby."

you hum dumbly in response, not really paying attention to what he's saying, you just want his lips back on yours so, so bad. your small hands fist his expensive polo, bambi eyes staring shamelessly at his mouth as you watch him talk; his words not really registering.

"hey. hey, sweetheart, eyes up here..." he taps your chin with his finger. "i need you to tell me that you want this too, a'right?"

your dazed eyes dart up to meet his blue ones while you nod obediently, your thick, long lashes fluttering in his direction. "i want it, rafe," you mutter softly, pretty voice filling in the silence of the bathroom.

his eyes darken, pupils dilating when he hears the words he's been longing to hear for months now and the intensity of his gaze makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. "that's a good girl..."

before you know it, he has you bent over the countertop, skirt pulled up 'round your waist as he fucks your pussy with his thick fingers to stretch you out. you've got the tightest cunt he's ever put his digits into, which has his cock throbbing painfully in anticipation.

despite how bad he needs to sink into you, he forces himself to give you at least one orgasm with his fingers before he yanks his pants down and slowly pushes his dick inside your sopping hole, the feeling almost too good to be real. he thrusts into you one time, two, then three, your pussy squelching lewdly around him, and his whole body feels on fire.

is this what heaven feels like? yeah, it probably is.

he'd fuck you dumb, big hand shoving your pretty face against the cool marble as he pounds your pussy into oblivion until you're creaming all over his dick, flushed cheeks stained with tears.

"such a good girl f’me," he praises as he pulls out to finish on your plush ass, thick ropes of cum painting your smooth flesh.

more.

[kira-akira]

What I Want You To Know About Long COVID

Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.

Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.

COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.

Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).

There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.

So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.

COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.

The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".

Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."

There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.

You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.

I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.

This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.

Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.

Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.

Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.

Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.

Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.

And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.

Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.

I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.

[arkangelo-7]

I’m sure someone’s already headcannoned this, but Bruce having pet names for the Batkids? Man, those are his babies—you can bet your ass he has pet names for them. He might not be the type of man to show much affection beyond a shoulder pat or the occasional forehead kiss, but he’s determined to parent the crap outta these orphans, and pet names are an easier medium to show that he cares.

Dick is both “chum” and “sweetheart” depending on the context. When Bruce is feeling playful and comfortable (the easy, “your mine and I’m just happy to be here with you” kind of love), he’ll stick with “chum” and Dick absolutely loves it. But when Dick’s sick or has a nightmare or got injured during patrol? It’s sweetheart. It’s default mode for Bruce, because seeing Dick in pain brings up so many raw, intense emotions (Bruce gets scared, goddamit) that it’s easier for him to say “I’ve got you, sweetheart, it’s okay, just keep your eyes on mine,” then it is to say “I’m so terrified that I’m going to loose you, I love you, you’re my everything.”

Jason is“Jaylad.” But it’s less of the name that’s important and more of the story behind it that is. For the first few months that Jason was in Bruce’s care, Bruce didn’t dare call him anything other then his name, in fear that he’d scare him away (he was already so distrusting, so hesitant, so fearful whenever Bruce talked to loud or moved to fast or got upset), but at the same time, he’d seen how pleased Dick had been at being called “chum” and wanted to bestow a similar endearment on Jason. But—he didn’t want to go to far. So instead of calling him “lad” like his own father had once called him, Bruce calls him “Jaylad.” It’s a little more impersonal, but it makes Jason more comfortable. (But when Bruce cradled his son’s broken body he said “no, darling, not you, don’t leave me—” because just how Dick is “sweetheart,” Jason has also always been “darling.”)

For Tim… it’s more complicated. He shoved his way into Bruce’s life and he’s forever grateful, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Jason and Dick. He sees Tim as his son, of course, but their relationship was built on the darkest, most despairing part of Bruce’s life. But even in that terrible season, Bruce would look over at Tim working on a case or cleaning his suit and say, “Good job, sport.” It doesn’t happen often, but Tim is “sport.”

Cassandra is “love.” Bruce has never said it to her, aloud, but he knows Cass can read him well enough to hear the unspoken endearment, to see how much he longs to protect her, bring her joy, fill her heart with all the love she’s filled his with.

Steph is “duck.” And not necessarily because Bruce decided that it was, but because 9 times out of 10 he finds himself screaming, “Robin, get down!” because Stephanie will not for the love of God follow his orders, and end up right in the line of fire. To save time he eventually just started saying “Duck!” It keeps Steph from getting whacked to high heavens and saves Bruce (another) heart attack, but over the years it’s also become somewhat of a ritual to say “duck” whenever Steph walks in the room. Bruce secretly wants to call her “ducky” (which is what his mother called Kate), but he’s never worked up the nerve.

Duke is “kid.” By the time he’s in the family, Bruce has loosened up and lightened up, especially with everyday affection (which is to say, he’s not avoiding it like the plague). He’s quick to say “Good job, kid” whenever Duke had an accomplishment or ask “how are you today, kiddo?” when they see each other in passing in the Batcave.

Damian, lastly, would never allow Bruce to call him anything other then his name. But every once in a while, Bruce can get away with saying “son.” And it’s the best thing in the world.