#── .✦mel's blurbs

[thewretched1999]

── .✦ tonight, you're on my mind.

a/n: gonna be blurb posting the next couple of days, i might expand on this idea in the future but its been sitting in my docs for a while now...figured i might as well post this one. wc: 370

Your marriage is dying, but what do you do when no one's at fault?

There weren’t any suspicious late nights on either side, no arguments that snowballed into something more, no cracks that went ignored until they turned into fractures. It just is, and you don't know how to fix it.

The worst part is? You don’t think Leon’s noticed yet. 

He carries on like nothings changed, still initiates intimacy, still tells you he loves you, still plans date nights and tells you he’ll take you out on that nice little trip you’ve both always dreamed about as soon as the DSO approves his vacation days, bless his heart.

But you can feel it, the weak flame that flickers between you two dying each night he holds you, it grows weaker even when you turn to face him and find those soft blue eyes staring back into yours with that same undying devotion they’ve had since you both met, and you? 

You don’t feel anything. Just guilt. 

When his hand brushes up your arm and leaves goosebumps in his wake, you thank your lucky stars your body still reacts to him, even if your heart isn’t fully in it.

“What’re you thinking about?” He murmurs, cupping your face tenderly. You don’t deserve this, the love and care he still has for you is wasted. Yet you smile.

“Nothing.” You hum, placing your hand over his. “Just you.” 

It’s not entirely a lie, just an omission. You hate yourself more for it.

Leon doesn’t press, just accepts this answer for now. He kisses your forehead gently, lets his hand slip into your hair to cradle the back of your head and tugs you closer, tucks you safely underneath his chin. He loves quiet nights like these, when he can just unwind and relax. You can never be close enough for him.

It only makes you feel worse knowing how much he appreciates your closeness. His heartbeat used to lull you to sleep, now all you can do is stare blankly at the ceiling with your arm moving on instinct to wrap around his neck for comfort you won't find.

If only he’d married someone better, someone honest. 

But he hadn’t. All he’s left with is you.

[bootycallin]

thinking bout how the arcane women kiss… ‹𝟹 ft; vi, caitlyn, sevika, jinx, mel. ⋮ cw: wlw/men dni. little suggestive ig but ultimately sfw. brief mentions of blood. honestly there’s not a lot else. spit? idk

𑁤 vi's kisses were much rougher when she’s right out of prison. final vi is gentler. except, vi is still violet in her essence. her kisses may be a little slower and last longer, but there’s a constant undercurrent of need that she can’t (and doesn’t try to) hide. her lips aren’t the only thing kissing you, as her hands roam in a reverent way such that it feels like her fingertips kiss your body.

𑁤 caitlyn's kisses are brief, but meaningful. it’s not that she doesn’t want to kiss you. she would spend her life with her lips locked on yours if she could. the thing is, she’s a busy woman. even when receding from the role of general and giving her spot on the council to someone else, she’s still the sheriff, and she has the schedule of one. but, her kisses do enough as to remind you that you’re always occupying the forefront of her mind, taking any leftover thoughts she may have while working. she kisses passionate, but has to pull away just as quick, a promise she’ll be back for more when she can.

𑁤 sevika’s kisses are possessive—and very. she kisses like she wants to swallow you whole, or like she wants you to swallow her. she’s quick to slip her tongue into your mouth and down your throat. when you pull away, she bites your lips, tugging hard enough to make you think she’s gonna draw blood. she never does, but she leaves enough of a mark with your lips swollen and red, marking you as hers.

𑁤 jinx is as chaotic with you as she is with her bombs. what else did you expect? she is jinx, after all. she just barely can touch your lips. her kisses are all tongue and teeth and spit. she bites and she growls like a dog, slobbers over you cause she can’t help herself, bites your lip so hard she can taste your blood. if sevika seems like she wants to swallow you, jinx makes it very clear. she’s not like this only when she’s kissing your mouth, she’s like this kissing anywhere—licks up your neck, bites your cheeks, anywhere she can reach. she wants to taste you—all of you.

𑁤 mel is an orderly woman. much like caitlyn, she really doesn’t have a lot of time. unfortunately. she’s dealt with enough. she usually isn’t the one initiating intimacy, so you have to kiss first. mel’s kisses are slow, gentle, but reverent. nearly worshipful. you’re her one safe haven, her safety net, her calm after the storm, and she treats you like so; one hand tangling into the back of your head, threading fingers through hair, keeping you close. one thing about mel is that when she starts, she can’t really stop. she wants to keep going and going and going. but ultimately, you pull away, and she’s left with a little smile, as if saying you caught me. you know, and she knows you know, you’re her true treasure.

.ᐟ.ᐟ honorable mention:

𑁤 ambessa isn’t much of a kisser. she’s a medarda, a noxian most of all. she’s not known to be gentle, not by anybody, and not by you. ambessa kisses the way she fights. she takes, and that’s all she does. tongue down your throat, just barely giving you time to realize she’s kissing you. her kisses are brief, but enough to leave you breathless and gasping. her kisses are never expected, and that’s how she likes it; she likes leaving you breathless, surprised, and probably a little needy—she’s confident in her abilities.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

“We want Mel to sit next to us,” Tanner states, every fifteen minutes from the time the boys are shaken awake in the morning to the time they all traipse out of the house to the car. Declan, his big brother’s little shadow, nods along every time Tanner makes his demand.

Frank frowns and plants his fists on his hips and leans down to make eye contact with his sons. “Well, what if I want Mel to sit next to me in the front? Huh, what about that?” He overexaggerates the “tough guy” tone to make the boys giggle.

“You always sit next to Mel,” Tanner groans, mimicking Frank’s pose. “We wanna sit next to her this time! She can color with me, cause she always stays in the lines.”

Mel, holding Declan’s Ninja Turtles backpack and her own bag and Crouton’s leash, grins at Frank, who can’t help but grin back. His eyes crinkle at the corners.

“You’re a hot commodity, King,” he teases and the boys cheer because Frank nods, “alright, but you’re not making Mel squish in the middle, so Dec, we’re moving your seat over and if you two fight -“ he points a finger between the boys, “we’re canceling the trip and you’re only going to eat broccoli for the week.”

The toothless threat makes the boys squeal and protest that they’ll be good, dad, they promise!!

After some shuffling around, Mel gets the passenger seat behind the driver, Declan’s backseat middle, and Tanner’s in his usual spot behind the passenger seat. Crouton is curled up happily on the passenger seat, his harness keeping him clipped in place.

Frank tries not to be a little cranky that his plans of holding Mel’s hand for the entire five hour drive to the Poconos has been thwarted by a pair of under-7s, but with Crouton looking at him with snack-begging eyes (already, dude? They’ve only been in the car for twenty minutes!) it’s hard.

They make their way across Pennsylvania, Tanner peppering Mel with “whys?” that she doesn’t mind answering, her patience with the repetitive questions godlike. Declan, the quietest Langdon because he has his big brother to do all the talking, pipes up every once in a while to ask Mel for a snack. She happily hands over quartered grapes and baby carrots when he asks, all while answering Tanner’s questions.

“Oh, no, Tanner,” Mel says quickly, “don’t pick at your scab.”

Frank, in the rear view mirror, can see Tanner’s hand shoot away from his scabbed knee (a sign of a successful childhood, in Frank’s opinion. The fact that he got it tripping because he tried to push Declan off the slide? Slightly irrelevant to the sunny, rose-colored picture Frank is painting in his mind.)

“Why?” Tanner looks at Mel with Frank’s blue eyes, the spark of curiosity identical too.

“Oh,” Mel pushes up her glasses and Frank can hear the shift into teacher mode, “well, the scab is there to promote healing and to protect your wound from getting harmful bacteria inside.”

“Why?” Tanner repeats and Frank sighs, knowing it’s going to be a long car ride if this keeps up. But Mel is patient, as usual, and explains her reasoning to the rising first grader. She doesn’t dumb it down for them either, explaining about blood clotting and how picking the scab before it’s ready could lead to a scar. Declan falls asleep during the lesson, his chubby hand wrapped around Mel’s fingers, but Tanner is rapt. He listens to Mel with more attention than he pays to most things.

Frank grins to himself, reaching his left hand back to brush against Mel’s leg. She swats at it absently, her nose wrinkling, and assumes it’s a bug or a piece of hair. He tickles her calf again and this time, Mel looks down, briefly diverting her attention from Tanner. She smiles at Frank’s hand, decorating with friendship bracelets that match her own, and reaches out to lace her fingers with his, briefly, before she catches his eye in the rear view mirror and reminds him to keep his hands on the wheel.

He barks a laugh and Tanner asks him what’s so funny.

“Nothing, kiddo,” he replies, giving Mel’s calf one more affectionate squeeze before returning his hands to ten and two.

[lvrsturniolo]

𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 -c.s

warnings; smut. lots of toy use tbh. anal(if that makes you uncomfortable pls pls pls don’t read this! that’s what’s going on the entire time). lots of praise. pet names(sweet girl, pretty girl, bun, bunny, etc.). This is not proofread because I’m blazed and im lazy 😛.

wc: 3.7k

starring.. BOYFRIEND!CHRIS X BUNNY!READER

01: GIFT ONE

The sun was setting when Chris came home, the soft golden light spilling through the windows of your shared bedroom. You were curled up on his bed, oversized hoodie covering your bare legs, a book open in your lap. He walked in slowly, carefully, like he always did.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he murmured, dropping his keys on the nightstand and kneeling in front of you.

You looked up, shy smile curling on your lips. “Hi, Chris.”

He kissed your knee through the hoodie. “Missed you today.”

You nodded. “Missed you too.”

Chris reached behind him and pulled a small velvet box out of his backpack, setting it gently on your lap. You blinked down at it, fingers tightening on the edges of your book.

“What’s this?” you whispered.

“Just a little surprise,” he said softly, reaching to brush your hair back. “I picked it out just for you.”

Your heart fluttered. With a deep breath, you opened the box carefully.

Inside, nestled in satin, was a beautiful pink glass plug. The base was shaped like a little heart. You’d talked about doing this a few times, it was always something you’d been curious about— you didn’t know he was really listening though.

Your breath hitched.

Chris moved slowly, gauging your reaction, his voice velvet-smooth. “It’s pretty, huh?”

You nodded, cheeks burning. “It’s… really pretty.”

“I thought so too,” he said, voice dipping lower as he reached out and ran his fingers lightly over your thigh. “Thought it might help my pretty girl start getting ready. Only if you want to, okay? We can take our time.”

You nodded, eyes wide and trusting. “Okay.”

“Yeah? You want to bun?” he asked gently.

“Y-yes— I do.” you whispered, and he leaned up to kiss your cheek.

Chris laid you on your tummy on the bed, hoodie tugged up, panties off. He sat between your legs, hands warm and slow as he rubbed soft lube over your ass, then leaned forward to kiss the small of your back.

“You’re so good for me, bun,” he murmured. “Always so sweet. Thank you for trustin’ me sweet girl.”

Your breath was shaky as you nodded. “I-I’ll always trust you.”

“I know you will baby,” he praised, smiling as he picked up the plug, now warmed in his palm. “We’ll start slow, just a little pressure, okay? Just let me know if anything doesn’t feel good.”

You made a soft noise of agreement, hiding your face in the pillow. Chris spread your cheeks gently, fingers so careful as he circled your hole with lube again.

“Relax for me, baby,” he whispered, kissing the back of your thigh. “Take a deep breath.”

You did—and as you exhaled, he pressed the tip of the plug slowly against you, not pushing, just holding it there. You whimpered softly, your hips twitching, but Chris’s other hand came to your lower back, grounding you.

“Shh, there you go… that’s my good girl. Just breathe. You’re doing so well already.”

The plug slid in slowly, just the tip at first, then a bit deeper, until the bulb was nestled inside. You gasped, instinctively clenching, but Chris ran his hand up and down your spine.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “God, you look so perfect like this— you’re so pretty baby.”

You squirmed, feeling so full, even though the plug itself wasn’t that large.

“It’s so much,” you whispered.

“I know, bun,” he cooed, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder. “But you’re doing amazing. You look so pretty with it in.”

His fingers brushed the heart-shaped base, pressing it lightly against your skin.

“I’m gonna leave it in for just a few minutes tonight, okay?” he said. “Then we’ll take it out, clean you up, and cuddle. Just a little step.”

You nodded again, voice barely audible. “Y-yes sir”

He groaned softly at the nickname, lips finding the back of your neck. “Fuck, I love when you call me that.”

You stayed there, face down, cheeks hot and heart pounding, while he whispered sweet praise in your ear. “Such a brave girl, hm? So fucking beautiful like this— makes me ‘s proud of you baby.”

He took the plug out gently, cleaned you up, and tucked you under the blankets. His hoodie swallowed your frame again, and you curled up against his chest like always, soft and pliant.

“I love you, bun,” he whispered against your hair.

“I love you too,” you murmured, sleepily. “Thank you… for going slow.”

“I’ll always go slow for you,” he promised. “If you ever feel rushed, let me know okay?”

“Mkay,” you mumble softly before drifting off to sleep.

02: GIFT TWO

The plug became part of your routine after that first night. You never had to ask—Chris always knew when to bring it out. Some nights, it would be after a movie, while you were curled up in his lap. Other times, it was early morning, when you were still soft and sleepy under the covers. He never rushed, never forced—just waited for the soft, shy nod that meant you were ready and you wanted it.

The second time he used it, he whispered, “Let’s see if you can take it a little longer tonight, yeah?”

You nodded, biting your lip, laying down on your tummy like before. You always hid your face when he touched you there—it made you feel too vulnerable, too exposed—but Chris loved it.

“You’re real cute when you’re shy,” he told you, massaging your hips while he spread lube with two fingers. “But I don’t want you to hide too much. You’re beautiful, bun. Especially when you’re like this.”

Every time he slid the plug in, it got easier. Not easy—but easier. The sting turned into pressure. The pressure turned into warmth. And after a week, you caught yourself clenching around it. Needing more. Wanting more.

Chris noticed that too.

One night, after he’d settled the plug inside and sat back to admire how the heart-shaped base peeked out from between your soft cheeks, he ran his palm gently down your spine.

“You like it more now, sweet girl?” He asked, softly kissing your collarbone. “I can feel that you do, your body tells it all.”

You whimpered and nodded, pushing your hips into the bed. “I—I do…”

He leaned over you, lips brushing your ear.

“You wanna take the next step?” he asked. “Something just a little bigger, a little deeper?”

You turned your head to look at him, eyes wide and shiny. “What kind of step?”

Chris smiled, and that smile made your stomach flip.

“I got you one more gift.”

The box was longer this time. He opened it in front of you, lifting out a slim, pretty glass dildo with a pink heart tip that’s almost the same color as the plug. Its longer and elegant, with soft curves down its shaft. It shimmered in the light like something out of a dream.

Your thighs squeezed together.

Chris caught it instantly. “See?” he grinned, kissing your temple. “Your body’s already curious.”

“It’s so… pretty,” you whispered, reaching to trace the glass.

“It’s a little smaller than me,” Chris added, his voice dropping. “Way thinner. But a little deeper than the plug. I wanna try it on you, bun. Get you used to having more.”

You swallowed hard, face burning. “Okay.”

He took his time—long, slow kisses on your neck while you laid on your side, one leg hooked over his thigh. You were completely bare waist down, wrapped in nothing but Chris’s hoodie, trembling under his touch.

“I’ll go slow,” he whispered, pressing kisses down your belly. “Just breathe and let me open you up baby.”

He started with his fingers—two, slick and careful, gently stretching you open as you whined into the pillow.

“Such a good girl… so tight, you takin my fingers so well, bun. Just like that… yeah?”

When he replaced them with the tip of the dildo, you gasped—cool glass touching hot, soft skin.

“Deep breath, baby,” he said, coaxing it slowly in. “There you go. That’s it.”

You cried out softly as it slid deeper than the plug had ever reached—cool, smooth, and so full.

“F-Feels so— full,” you whimpered.

Chris’s voice dropped to a low hum. “You are full, bun. And you’re doing so fucking good.”

He didn’t thrust—not at first. Just held it there, watching your body flutter and clench.

“You’re squeezing so tight around it, baby,” he whispered, completely entranced. “Pretty ass loves this, I knew she would.”

When he finally started moving it—tiny strokes, just a little motion—you nearly broke.

You moaned, back arching, and Chris’s free hand slid between your legs.

“Wanna make you cum just like this,” he whispered.

You gasped. “Chrisss…”

“You close?” he asked, his hand gently rubbing your clit.

You nodded frantically. “Please—feels so good—don’t stop—”

When you came, the dildo still deep inside, your body tensed around the glass and Chris groaned.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “So pretty when you cum.”

He held you while you trembled, still snug around the dildo, lips pressed to your temple.

“Think you’re almost ready, bun,” he said softly. “Almost ready to take all of me.”

You whimpered. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, rocking the dildo just a little. “I can feel it. Your body’s much more relaxed now.”

03. READY

It was a quiet night. Rain tapped against the window, soft and steady. You were curled up in Chris’s bed, one of his T-shirts hanging loose off your frame, nothing underneath. Your cheek was pressed to his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. It’d been a few weeks since the first time you used the dildo, but you’d used it multiple times since, getting more and more comfortable with it.

He brushed his fingers through your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“Chris?” You whisper softly, not daring to look up at him because of the nasty things you’re about to say.

“Hm? What is it baby?” He mumbles back, noticing you ducking your head down low.

You peeked up at him, eyes wide and warm. “I like it… when you stretch me out— and w-when you say nice things.”

Chris’s smile made your stomach flip. “I know you do. You’re my good girl. You like being taken care of.”

You nodded shyly, pressing your face into his chest. “I wanna do more.”

He stilled for a second. “More?”

“I wanna try. The real thing,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to be… in me.”

His breath caught, and he tilted your chin up gently to look you in the eye.

“You sure?”

You nodded, cheeks burning. “I trust you, Chris. ‘m ready.”

He undressed you slowly, kissing every inch of skin he revealed. His hands were warm, steady, grounding. You laid on your tummy, like always, but this time, he positioned a pillow under your hips, raising you just slightly.

“Just like that,” he murmured, spreading your legs slowly. “Let me see you, bun.”

You whimpered when his fingers found your hole, already slicked with lube, already twitching.

“God, look at you,” he breathed.

Chris started with one finger—just to test. Then two. Then he slid the glass dildo in again, watching the way your body hugged it so perfectly.

“You’ve trained so well, bunny. Look at you, takin’ this like it was nothing.”

You moaned into the pillow, clenching around it. “Chris… please.”

He kissed the curve of your spine, then leaned up, and you felt the toy slide out.

“You ready for me, bun?” he asked, voice full of awe.

“Please,” you whispered. “Wanna feel you.”

—————————

You could feel the difference the moment the tip of him pressed against your entrance. He was so much warmer than the glass, thicker, throbbing. Your whole body tensed—but then his hand came to rest on your lower back, grounding you.

“Deep breath for me,” he whispered. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You exhaled slowly, and he pushed just a little—only the tip—and your whole body reacted.

You gasped, back arching. “Oh my god…”

“Shhh,” he soothed, pausing. “That’s it. You’re doing so good. Just let me in a little at a time.”

He rocked forward again, inch by inch, until the thickest part of his head popped past the tight ring of muscle. You cried out, gripping the sheets, but it wasn’t pain—not really. It was pressure. Stretch. Fullness.

Chris moaned low in his throat. “O-oh fuuuck pretty girl. You’re so tight—so warm.”

“F-Feels… so big,” you whimpered.

“I know, I know. But you’re taking me so good. Look at you,” he said softly. “Already halfway in— y’doin perfect for me.”

He moved slowly, praising you the entire time. When he bottomed out, both of you froze—his hips snug against your ass, your back arched, your thighs trembling.

“Theeeeere we go, baby— y’doin it,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder. “You’re taking all of me. Look at how good you are.”

You were shaking—so full you could barely think. But your body… wanted more.

“Move, Chrisss… please…”

He groaned, pulling out halfway and easing back in with one slow stroke. “I’ve got you, bunny. Gonna fuck you so good. Gonna let you feel every inch of me inside you.”

And he did—deep, steady thrusts that rubbed against places inside you you didn’t even know existed. You moaned into the pillow, gasping his name again and again.

“That feel good, baby?” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your temple. “You feel so fucking amazing around me.”

“So full,” you whimpered. “So deep—Chris, I-I’m gonna—”

He reached down, rubbing your clit with careful fingers, and that was all it took.

You came hard, body clenching around his cock, mouth falling open in a silent cry. Chris cursed under his breath, trying not to fall apart at how tight you were when you came.

“Fuck, fuck—gonna cum too—can I— fuck can I cum inside?”

“Yes—please, Chris—please—”

He pushed in deep and groaned, spilling inside you while whispering praise into your ear.

04: Aftercare

You were trembling after, limp and quiet, breathing fast. Chris cleaned you up with a warm towel, kissing you over and over—your cheeks, your thighs, your spine.

“You did so good,” he whispered, pulling you into his chest. “You’re such a good girl— always.”

You curled into him, glassy-eyed and soft. “Felt— so good, Chris…”

“I know, baby,” he murmured. “You were perfect. My perfect girl.”

He dressed you gently, slid one of his hoodies over your head, and tucked the blankets around both of you. His fingers played in your hair while you came down.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Chris smiled. “I love you more.”

dividers by @/bernardsbendystraws

A/N: sorry if there are any errors in spelling or anything— im absolutely blazed rn but I got this idea and had to do smtn w it

tags: @emely9274 @courta13 @sturniolo-szn2 @sophand4n4 @lezleeferguson-120 @chrislover696969 @slvt4chriss @riasturns @ivysturnss @auttysturnz @tezzzzzzzz @iloveduckssm @conspiracy-ash



[helaintoloki]

Mirror Image

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: none!

notes: this blurb was a request sent in by my lovely mutual <3 ty for waiting hon and i hope you like it :)

request: Hi, loved your story Winter Flower! Would you be able to write a story based on this image below? where Bucky’s frustrated at some Ikea toolkit, not being able to assemble whatever properly, and next to him is you and Bucky’s son, about 4 years old with the same expression, copying his dad. domestic, married fluff.

“You’re kidding me!” Bucky’s exasperated voice sounds from the living room the moment you step foot into your home. You raise a brow in quiet amusement while setting down your gym bag and carefully treading further inside.

You’d left Bucky and your four year old son Henry to their own devices while you enjoyed a much needed workout session with Natasha. Becoming parents had certainly changed your normal routine as Avengers, but you found a way to make it work and balance your hero life with your personal life. In your absence, he had decided to use the free time to finally put together your son’s new bed now that he’d outgrown the crib. You had complete faith in his abilities, but from the sound of his frustrated groans it seemed he was having difficulties.

Peeking your head into the room without revealing your presence, you spot Bucky staring down in annoyance at the mess of wooden pieces that refused to stay screwed together. Hands tightly balled into fists at his sides and teeth clenched together with his lips slightly parted, you can easily note the frustration that radiates off of your poor husband. Bucky is a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to being a dad, and though you’ve reminded him time and again that there’s no such thing as a perfect parent, he’s adamant about doing right by your son.

You open your mouth intending to tease your husband for his obvious hatred towards the toddler bed only to immediately shut it once you take notice of Henry standing a few feet away from Bucky. Heart swooning in your chest at the sight of him, you take note of the fact that his stance is nearly identical to his father’s. His tiny fists are clenched at his side while he puts on his best attempt at an angry face, consistently glancing over at James to ensure he’s correctly copying his every move. Your chest nearly bursts from the sweetness, and you make sure to snap a quick photo to provide Bucky with evidence of the fact that your son absolutely adores him in everything he does.

When you feel the moment is right you finally step into the living room and alert the two of your presence. Henry is on you instantly, running towards you with a gap toothed smile and eagerly raised hands as you lift him up and into your arms.

“Hey, you two,” you greet sweetly while pressing a kiss his cheek. “How are my favorite boys?”

“Dada is mad at my bed!” Henry points out animatedly much to Bucky’s embarrassment.

“I wanted to get this done so you’d have less on your plate to worry about when you got back from the gym,” Bucky expresses remorsefully as he comes to your side and wraps an arm around your frame, “but I can’t figure the damn thing out!”

“Language!” Henry scolds Bucky for his choice of words only for his father to affectionately ruffle his long tufts of brown hair.”

“We’ve definitely been letting Uncle Steve babysit you way too often.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over some overly complicated bed frame,” you assure him with a chaste peck to his lips. “Why don’t you step away for a bit to clear your head and join me and Henry for some lunch?”

“You’re right,” Bucky sighs before gently taking Henry from your arms. “I’ll make us some sandwiches so you can freshen up.”

You allow him to press a quick kiss to your temple before you head to the bathroom to shower and change into a fresh pair of clothes. You try not to keep your boys waiting too long, but your rush is proven to be pointless when you walk into the kitchen only to find it empty. There’s no sight of Bucky or Henry, and the loaf of bread you’d baked this morning is untouched. You let out a small huff of disappointment and make your way through the house in search of the two.

“Dada did it!” Henry cheers excitedly when you finally stumble upon them in the living room once more. Bucky stands proudly before his handiwork as the bed frame rests in the center of the room.

“What happened to making sandwiches?” You prompt him with a raised brow only for Bucky to sheepishly grasp the back of his neck.

“It was going to drive me crazy if I didn’t figure it out,” he admits guiltily only to earn a quiet laugh from you.

“You did good, honey,” you coo sweetly while admiring his hard work. A thought comes to you then, prompting you to furrow your brows as you look to your husband and say, “I do have one question though.”

“What is it?”

“How are you going to fit the frame through Henry’s door and get it into his bedroom?” You prompt, causing Bucky’s proud smile to immediately fall as he quietly shifts his gaze from the bed frame to the end of the hallway where your son’s room resides.

“Shit.”

“Language!”

It’s going to be a long day for your poor husband, but you know he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[coffeealwayshelps]

i could live by the light in your eyes

In which Mel and Langdon always find each other in the pit, and everyone else notices.

one.

"Hey! Hey, Mel!"

Mel was already smiling before she turned around, happy to hear the familiar voice of one of her very best friends. Langdon came rushing up to her, hands gripping the end of his stethoscope, blue eyes bright. He rocked back on his heels, a big grin on his face.

Behind him, at the charge desk, Dana shook her head. She was smiling, though, so Mel guessed that she was more amused than anything else. Dana briefly abandoned the charting she was doing, choosing instead to watch Mel and Langdon.

Mel's attention was pulled back to Langdon when he gently nudged her arm with his elbow. "I have this guy in north five with a rake sticking out his chest."

"Wait." Mel's eyes went wide. Truly, some of the craziest things came into the ED and she absolutely loved it. "The rake is in his chest?"

"Sure is." Langdon was so excited, he looked like he was about to vibrate right out of his skin.

"But how..." Mel's brow furrowed, and she tapped her lips with her index finger. "Was this some sort of... leaf-raking incident?" It was the middle of May, though, so there was really no need to be raking leaves.

Langdon grinned. "Nope." His lips popped the plosive at the end. "Apparently, he and his friends tried to figure out if yard tools made for good jousting equipment."

Mel's mouth dropped open, and then she grinned. "That's just..."

"Amazing, right?"

"Yes!"

And then they were off, with Langdon walking backwards as he rattled off the guy's vitals to Mel. Langdon pulled a pair of gloves out of the box attached to the wall by north five, and handed them to Mel. From where Dana was sitting, she could see Mel's fingers brush Langdon's, and the way her cheeks heated up as she smiled sweetly.

Dana smiled to herself as she returned to her charting. Those two were really something else.

two.

Mel could easily spot Langdon's head from across the ED. Thank goodness he was so tall, which made it especially easy to find him, despite the fact that all of the ED doctors wore the same colored scrubs.

Mel crossed the floor quickly to him, resisting the urge to wave her arm over her head to get his attention. Langdon looked up as she was approaching, though, like he somehow knew that she was on her way over to him. When his eyes connected with hers, Mel couldn't help the way her hand flipped up in a weird, jumpy little half-wave.

"Dr. Langdon!" Even though they spent quite a bit of time together outside of work, now, Mel still tended not to use his first name while they were at work. Langdon thought it was incredibly endearing.

Langdon smiled widely at her and leaned against the central desk, one elbow propped on the top. "What's up, Mel?"

"Do you have a moment?" Mel linked her fingers together in front of her, twisting her index and middle fingers together.

"For you?" Langdon's eyes warmed. "Always."

Behind them, Donnie snorted. Langdon's head whipped around, glancing over his shoulder quickly. Donnie appeared to be perfectly busy, though, as he efficiently restocked a cart with gauze and bandages. Langdon turned back around; the exchange had only taken a few seconds, so Mel hadn't really noticed.

"I have a set of ten year old twins that I'm fairly certain have appendicitis."

"Whoa." Langdon forgot all about how Donnie was probably eavesdropping on them. "Both of them?"

"Yes, they are both exhibiting symptoms that are consistent with that diagnosis."

"At the same time?"

"Yes." Mel grinned and handed Langdon a tablet. "Do you want to check it out with me?"

"Obviously."

Donnie snorted again, but Langdon didn't have time to glare at him. He was too busy listening to how Mel was explaining that she was certain the surgery was emergent, and that she had already put in a consult with general surgery. Langdon nodded his head as Mel talked, already knowing that Mel had this case well in hand. He loved watching her work, though.

As Mel and Langdon moved away, Donnie raised his eyebrows and shared a significant look with Jesse and Mateo. They both nodded in return.

three.

Mel was just finishing up with a patient (a kitchen mishap with a knife that required some stitches). She was walking quickly to the central desk to see what other cases needed to be covered, when she felt someone gently take her upper arm.

Mel would know those hands anywhere, and she let Langdon spin her around. In his other hand was a takeout bag from their favorite sandwich spot.

"Mel! Look what I got!" He shook the sandwich bag enticingly in front of her.

Mel gasped and grabbed on to Langdon's wrist. "You got sandwiches from Sonny's? But it's not the last Friday of the month!"

Six months ago, when Langdon had found out that he and Mel visited the same sandwich shop at least once a month, he started inviting Mel to come with him. It eventually morphed into a lunch date of sorts, one that took place at the end of every month.

"No, it's not." Langdon shrugged his shoulders as he grinned at her. "But it's a nice day and we've had some cool cases and I thought... why not?"

"Oh!" Mel could feel her cheeks flush as she smiled at him. "That's really nice of you. Did you-?"

"Yes, I got your sandwich with extra pickles." Langdon leaned a little closer to Mel, his eyebrows going up flirtatiously. "I'd never forget the extra pickles."

"Thank you." Mel squeezed his wrist, and then suddenly realized that she had still been holding on to him and abruptly let go. Langdon still had a gentle grip on her arm, and it didn't look like he was planning on letting go any time soon.

Mel bit her lip and then cleared her throat. "We can meet up for lunch at 12?"

"Our spot?" Langdon suggested. There was a low wall that they liked to sit on around the corner of the ambulance bay. "I can put the sandwiches in the fridge until then."

Mel felt her cheeks flush again. "I'll see you there."

They both turned around but came up short when they found that Princess and Perlah were standing directly across from them. Mel and Langodn paused briefly, unsure of how long the two nurses had been standing there. Mel bit her lip as she turned away, hurrying around to one of the computers behind the central desk. Langdon narrowed his eyes at Princess and Perlah, who both stared back at him, completely unfazed.

Knowing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with them, Langdon huffed under his breath and hustled away. Princess and Perlah grinned at each other, and they were both thinking the same thing: the two of them were so obvious that it hurt.

four.

"Frank!"

Mel's voice reached him south three, and Langdon immediately pivoted from his original destination (to bother Dana about something). It was a little surprising to hear Mel use his first name at work, so she must have really wanted to see him. He stuck his head into the room and froze when he saw Mel standing there, holding an infant to her chest.

She cradled the baby's head expertly as she swayed back and forth a little, and she beamed up at Langdon. "I just had some anxious first-time parents. Their little guy is perfectly healthy, but I suggested that they at least go to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee." Mel cooed a little as she looked down at the baby's face, and he gave her a gummy smile in return.

"Aw, that's..." Langdon suddenly found that it was hard to speak. "That was really nice of you." He lightly tickled the baby's back. "This little guy is cute."

Mel carefully turned the infant in her arms, so that his head was supported against her chest and he was facing out. The baby turned dark eyes up towards Langdon, and he got a gummy smile as well. Langdon smiled back at the baby, blowing a raspberry that made the baby squeal with delight.

"I figured you could use some baby time," Mel told him. "Everyone should see this cute little guy."

Langdon extended a finger, and the baby latched on. "Thanks, Mel," he said, looking over the baby's head to smile at her. She smiled back at him, and the two of them stood there, gazes locked, grinning at each other.

"Uh, hello?"

Langdon and Mel turned to find that Robby was standing in the doorway of south three, eyebrows raised. Landon and Mel immediately tried to separate, but the baby still had a hold of Langdon's finger. They bounced back together, standing so that their shoulders brushed against one another's.

"Is there a reason the two of you are in here, or...?"

"I just-"

"We were-"

Robby didn't wait to hear the explanation. He held his hand up. "Just... wrap it up in the next few minutes, would you?"

He didn't wait for a response as he left. Robby knew that at this point, Mel and Langdon were a package deal when they were working the same shifts. He wasn't about to mess with a good thing.

five.

Collins, Robby, and Abbot stood in the security office. They had a perfect view of where Mel was sitting at a computer, and Langdon was leaning over, his hand on the back of her chair. There was barely any space between them.

"I feel like we should make sure they're leaving room for Jesus," Abbot quipped. He'd had to come in early for a meeting with Gloria to discuss scheduling for the night shift, which had just been annoying. At least he got to do this, though. This was fun.

"I think they're sweet," Collins declared. Langdon had been back at the pit for ten months. He had shown up divorced, wary, and closed-off. Despite his best efforts to keep everyone at arm's length, he just hadn't been able to do it with Mel. They were constantly in each other's orbit, pulling one another in.

It had become obvious to everyone in the pit that when either Mel or Langdon decided that something was interesting, or when they got excited about something, they were immediately looking for one another. During any given shift, they could all count on hearing "Hey, Mel!" or a call of, "Dr. Langdon!" at least three times from each of them.

Abbot snorted. "They should really just date at this point."

Robby groaned. "But the paperwork..."

"Is a joke," Abbot finished. "Come on, look at them. They're both happy."

It was true. It had taken some time, but Langdon was healthy and putting in the work. He had his kids every weekend and he was going to successfully finish out his final year as a resident. Robby and Abbot were both going to push to have Langdon hired on as an attending. Mel had really come into her own, as well. She was a brilliant resident and taught the younger medical students like she was born to do it. She'd be a great candidate for the education fellowship.

And since Mel and Langdon had found each other in the middle of all of that... well, that was really nice, too.

"So." Collins clapped her hands together as she turned to the white board. "Who wants to start placing bets on Mel and Langdon's first date?"

[born-to-lose-writing]

Hi!! If you write for Daltwistle, "A realizing that they have feelings for B when they see them with someone else." & "Did you just tell the person I was gonna go out with that we're dating?" would be great 👀

I hope this is Minty approved, I've never written for them before, but I love lurking on stuff 👀

Recently, Roger had been hanging out with a girl who didn't seem to be one of his groupies. She wasn't only to be seen at their events, instead they were walking around town together and he even took her to rehearsals, which the rest of the band found somewhat bothersome, but she acted quietly enough to let them practice in peace. If it wasn't for Roger walking towards her at the end of the last song, wrapping her into a hug and kissing her.

Frankly, that made John sick to his stomach. Not because he hated physical affection, but because it was Roger with another girl, whom he treated differently than the ones who went to meet him after gigs. He could tell there was less sexual tension and more of a romantic air between them. What John had previously considered as a slight crush on his bandmate was now proven to be real feelings for him, albeit currently overshadowed by possessiveness. But could he be possessive over someone he wasn't even close to having to himself?

Either way, he had to do something to prevent them from going further. When Pete called Roger over to discuss something briefly, John took the girl aside, speaking even quieter than usual. While he talked, she glanced at Roger a couple of times, whispering to the bassist, yet audibly enough for the singer to catch, “Really? I didn't know, I'm so sorry.”

Soon but too late to eavesdrop on their conversation, Roger returned, putting an arm around the girl's waist. “Are we going, dear?”

“Actually…” she started, nervously looking at John before turning to Roger. “I'm afraid I'll have to go home early. Thanks for taking me to this rehearsal though, you guys are great!”

The blonde’s arm loosened around her and his charming smile faded as she awkwardly squeezed his hand instead of the goodbye kiss they normally shared before parting ways.

Roger watched as she walked away and then turned to John, asking in a dangerously low voice, “Did you just tell the girl I was gonna go out with that we're dating?”

John rolled his eyes, taking a drag of his cigarette before shaking his head dismissively. “You've only been seeing each other for a few weeks anyway.”

“Well, it could've been longer,” Roger huffed, tucking his clenched fists into the pockets of his jacket. “Why did you even say I'm dating you?”

“I love you, fucking hell,” John muttered, looking into Roger's eyes for the first time today.

“You say that to Pete and Keith all the time.”

“They’re my best friends, but I'm into you,” he explained, getting increasingly annoyed at Roger's – perhaps feigned – ignorance.

“What?” He frowned.

“Seeing you with that bird made me so jealous, I had to do something about it.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as Roger processed the confession and John worried about whether he should not have said anything, intently avoiding eye contact. Suddenly, Roger grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down to his level, a hint of fury in his eyes, which made John wonder if he was going to start a fight or if it was his general dislike for men who were taller than himself.

It seemed to be the latter as the next thing John knew, Roger's lips were on his, kissing him with as much aggression as he had been used to showing since his school days – but also with as much passion as John had secretly wished he would be kissed by him one day after seeing him making out with all those women after their shows.

A couple of seconds later, the singer pulled away with a grin slowly forming on his face. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing he finally told him the truth.

[tvckerwash]

okay hear me out: in an alt season two following the memorial attack what if the general public began to scrutinize the enforcers? the late sheriff was in silco's pocket, and considering the security that was present at the memorial it's only logical for people to assume others must be corrupt and disloyal to the safety and security of piltover as well since renni and her goons were either in the crowd or impersonating enforcers.

having the public question the security of piltover and it's policing force in such turbulent times is BadTM, so jayce, as the head of the council, decides to establish a task force (led by caitlyn) to investigate and remove any compromised enforcers from duty. the number of officers that were corrupt ends up being higher than originally anticipated (omg no way, what a surprise /s), and what was already an underfunded, minimally staffed force (piltover/zaun is the least militarized region in runeterra so I'm taking some creative liberties) has been completely decimated, and absolutely no one wants to sign up for the job because jinx has been murdering and/or severely injuring enforcers left and right with no one to hold her back.

with the situation getting worse by the day, drastic measures need to be taken. ambessa proposes that jayce and mel (the only two councilors to survive jinx's attack) enact martial law and initiate some sort of draft, and volunteers to have her troops take over policing duties while citizens are drafted and trained. jayce refuses a draft because he doesn't want to force anyone into being an enforcer if they don't want to be one, and mel refuses to let ambessa and the noxian soldiers take over policing because she doesn't want her to have any power in piltover. they debate for a while and eventually come to the consensus that they will let the soldiers temporarily take over, but they'll report to and be commanded by someone of jayce and mel's choosing (maybe mel herself? with caitlyn as a second in command? listen if they wanted to make mel a combatant there are way more natural, organic ways to do it than making her a mage out of nowhere. she IS a noxian and considering she was already engineering a theoretical puppet regime as a child I'm sure commanding an army is something she could do with relative ease, and it makes way more sense for fired rookie cop caitlyn to learn the ropes from someone instead of being given the role of piltover’s supreme military leader). they also decide to run a recruitment campaign for the enforcers and use the face of the man of progress for the ads (yay defender of tomorrow jayce! you go glamorize and romanticize the military industrial complex for the masses and be the propagandic heroic figure you're literally designed to be!)

[kissingmilfs]

(Caribbean anon) You know it's hot af when someone from the Caribbean is complaining. Barbados had a literal heat wave and it still wasn't as hot as St.Thomas was. Stunning beaches and atmosphere, but dear God,that heat.

Sevika being Guyanese-Indian is such a thought though. A Caribbean x West African butch femme dynamic.......chef's kiss. I just know they have the best parties.

(Isha being thrown a birthday party that's more for the adults than the kids. In the way of most Caribbean parties.)

it’s also because st.thomas is just a big fucking rock and hella fucking hills and inclines 😖

AHHH yes!! you see the vision!!! that’s absolutely the dynamic going on. the diaspora is so strong between the caribbean and especially west africa. and it just makes sense mel and sevika would find each other and also bond over shared experiences.

also the birthday party for isha…oh i’m thinking…

them dancing like no one’s watching and mel has one drink in hand, sevika with a toothpick between her teeth and sevika’s hands wandering far too low…oh i think you ate with this one

[l0akkzz]

— the masterlist

HOCKEY

OO1: dna guarantee. ( q. hughes )

OO2:

OO3:

ARCANE

OO1:

OO2:

OO3:

OO4:

OO5:

OO6:

OO7:

MARVEL

OO1:

OO2:

OO3:

DC!WAYNE FAMILY

OO1:

OO2:

OO3:

SILENT HILL

OO1:

OO2:

OO3:

FINAL FANTASY

OO1: i really wanna stay at your house. ( au!noctis )

OO2:

OO3:

JUJUTSU KAISEN

OO1: wet dreamz. ( au!sugurugeto )

OO2: no role modelz. ( smoker!toji )

OO3: birthday dance. ( smoker!choso )

CHAINSAW MAN

OO1:

OO2:

OO3:

⋆·˚ ༘ * to be continued

[born-to-lose]

I hate coming up with titles for my fics, wdym I already used this genius original title twice in the same series

[lucreziaces]

ruminating on lucrezia setting down the candle under the rope, knowing that it was 50/50 odds she was sending her own brother to his death and not really caring because no matter if he died or the lady he was spending the night with died, she would've gotten revenge for paolo's death versus her telling cesare to eat something before taking a meal with della rovere in case he tries something (because she knew his plans to poison both pope and son since it was really her idea). with juan, she leaves it up to the fates to decide if he will die, but with cesare she takes no chances, making sure he will only be poisoned enough to keep him from chasing her down, to allow her time to make a life for herself outside of rome, outside their love for each other. even though both brothers committed the same crime-- killing an innocent that she cared for (i'd actually like to argue that ces one upped juan by making lucrezia an accomplice to his crime!!), she was unwilling to punish them in the same way because she still held love in her heart for cesare, even if he did steal the last of her innocence. whereas, the second she put it together that juan had been the one to kill paolo, her love for him died.

[thoughtfulfangirling]

Book 4 of 2025

All About Me: My Remarkable Life in Show Business - Mel Brooks

This was a really enjoyable memoir! It left me wanting more. Mel was pretty careful to focus mostly on his life in show business and not his personal life. I honestly think that's a great move, but his wit and nuggets of humorous wisdom left me also wishing he'd have delved more into his personal life. Alas it's probably best for the book that it was left as it was. It was very enjoyable and not insanely long. The guy's funny! Surprise surprise!

[lvrsturniolo]

𝐈𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈'𝐦 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲- c.s

FIC 2 OF MY SUPAFREAK WRITING MARATHON

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆… fwb!chris x fwb!reader

warnings; smut. unprotected p in v. creampie. mirror sex. choking. praise. rough fucking.

————————————————————

The mirror stares back at you like it knows your secrets as you shift uncomfortably in front of it, tugging the hem of your tank top down even though it’s already stretched tight across your chest. The room still smells like Chris—cologne and sex—and your knees are still red from when you were on the floor, mouth full of him, twenty minutes ago.

He’s behind you, sprawled on your bed with one arm tossed over his stomach and his eyes locked on you like he’s trying to read your mind. He always does that. Reads you too easily. Sees things you don’t want to say out loud.

“You good?” he asks, casual, but there’s a flicker of something sharper under it.

You nod. It’s a lie. He sees it. He always fucking sees it. He could clock your attitude being different before you even could, that’s just something he’d picked up from knowing you so long.

“C’mere.”

You hesitate, but he’s already getting up, already crowding your space. His hands find your waist like it’s second nature, pulling you toward the mirror. Your breath catches as he turns you to face it, your reflection laid bare under the shitty yellow light of your room.

You hate what you see.

Your stomach isn’t flat enough. Your thighs touch too much. Your bra is cutting into your skin, your lip’s red from chewing it. Chris towers behind you, his hand sliding up your side slowly, fingers brushing skin that makes you flinch.

“Chris, don’t,” you mumble, eyes darting down.

“Don’t what?” he murmurs, voice right at your neck. “Don’t remind you how fucking good you look?”

You shake your head, and it’s the wrong answer.

His grip tightens on your waist.

“Bend over.”

You freeze.

He doesn’t say it twice.

Heart pounding, you turn back to the mirror and bend at the waist, palms braced flat on the edge of your dresser. You feel exposed, insecure, vulnerable. But your body betrays you—slick already gathering between your thighs.

Chris drops to his knees behind you, dragging your shorts and underwear down in one rough motion. You shiver when his breath ghosts over your skin, when two fingers slide between your folds and come back soaked.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, thumb pressing against your clit just to watch you twitch. “You’re dripping, and you’re gonna sit here and tell me you don’t feel hot tonight?”

You bite your lip.

Then he stands. You watch it in the mirror—the way he fists his cock, the way he lines it up and pushes inside you in one sharp, unforgiving thrust

“Chris—fuck,” you gasp, lurching forward.

His palm cracks against your ass.

“Keep your eyes up,” he growls, hand snaking up your front, wrapping loosely around your throat. He forces your chin up until your reflection is unavoidable. “Watch yourself while I fuck you, sweetheart. Show you how—fuck— how pretty you are.”

Your eyes fill with tears—overstimulation, embarrassment, need—but you can’t look away. His hips slam into yours, cock dragging rough against your walls with every deep, merciless thrust.

“See this?” he grits out, eyes locked on your reflection. “This perfect fuckin’ body? You think I’d come back to this every time if it wasn’t the most perfect thing I’ve ever touched?”

You whimper, your legs shaking, eyes fluttering closed.

“Nuh-uh,” he warns, his hand tightening slightly around your throat—not choking, just holding. “Eyes open. You’re gonna look at yourself while I ruin you.”

“Chris,” you whine, broken and raw. “Please—”

“You want me to keep going?” he asks, slowing down enough for you to feel every inch of him. “Then say it.”

Your brows knit. “Say what?”

“Say you’re pretty.”

You hesitate. Shame bubbles up in your throat. “I—I can’t—”

Chris pulls out completely and you cry out at the loss, hips jerking back involuntarily, trying to find him again.

He doesn’t let you.

“Say it,” he snaps, fisting his cock behind you but not giving you what you need. “Say it or I won’t fuck you.”

Your mouth drops open. “You’re s-so mean—”

“Yeah?” he shrugs, “M’jus so mean— but I’ll stop— I’ll fuck you so good baby, jus how y’like me, all you have t’do is say it” his tones almost mocking, but the way he’s staring at you in the mirror isn’t. There’s nothing but pure lust behind his eyes.

Silence— for just a beat, before you can’t take it anymore. “I’m…” You bite your lip.

His hand slaps hard against your ass again, causing you to let out a squeal. “Say it.”

“I’m pretty,” you choke out, voice barely a whisper.

He still doesn’t move.

“I-I’m pretty—” you whine out, louder this time.

“Damn right, you are,” he groans before he slams back into you.

You scream his name, one hand flying off the dresser to catch yourself on the wall as he pounds into you, filthy and relentless, his face in the reflection flushed.

“That’s my girl,” he grits, fingers twisting into your hair, yanking your head back so he can spit in your open mouth. “Say it again.”

You swallow. “M’pretty!”

“Again.”

“I’m—fuck—I’m pretty!”

He fucks you so hard the dresser creaks. Your legs nearly give out, moans turning into sobs—but your eyes stay locked on the mirror. On him. On you. Red-cheeked, wrecked, because you’d do anything to keep him from stopping.

Your knees are shaking.

He’s fucking you hard enough to rattle the mirror on the wall. One of his hands is tangled in your hair, the other wrapped around your throat just right enough to keep your head facing the mirror. He’s dripping sweat and panting against your shoulder like he’s close but not close enough.

“You feel that?” he grunts, voice low and ragged. “How tight this perfect fucking pussy is?”

You nod, a breathy moan slipping from your lips as he drives into you again, deeper this time. He growls in frustration when you try to drop your head, eyes fluttering shut again.

“Uh-uh,” he warns, pulling your head up by your hair so you’re forced to meet your own reflection. “Eyes open. Look how good you take it.”

You barely recognize yourself in the mirror—your cheeks are flushed and mascara stained, lips swollen, pupils blown wide with lust. Your mouth is open, whining every time his hips slam into yours, every time he mutters something filthy against your skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he spits, bending over you now, chest against your back, his words hitting your ear like a growl. “That what you needed, huh? Someone to make you see it?”

Your answer is a desperate moan.

“That’s what I thought.”

He speeds up, fucking you with zero mercy now—deep, brutal strokes that have you tipping forward over the dresser. You can feel the pressure coiling low in your belly, unbearable and addictive, the kind of need that scrapes at your insides until you’re about to unravel.

His fingers slide from your throat down to your clit, circling in rough, perfect rhythm with the thrusts. “You close?”

You nod frantically. “Yes—fuck, yes, don’t stop, Chris, please don’t stop—”

“Not gonna,” he grits out. “Not until you cum lookin’ at yourself. How— fuuuck— how perfect you are. Come on, baby. T-tell me how perfect you are.”

You gasp, tears threatening to fall now, but you obey. “M’perfect! I-I’m pretty— a-and—” you interrupt yourself with an almost pornographic moan, “a-and im perfect!”

“Louder.”

“I’m pretty—Chris, I’m—fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

He slaps your ass again. “Cum for me. Right now. Let yourself see how pretty you look when you fall apart.”

Your vision goes white.

You cum with a broken scream, whole body convulsing as the orgasm tears through you, shaking and messy.

Chris groans behind you, his rhythm stuttering, hips jerking erratically before he buries himself deep and cums with a growl of your name.

“Fuuuck—you feel so good, baby,” he pants, staying inside you as his hand comes up to cup your chest, grounding you as you both come down from it.

You’re both a mess in the mirror—panting, flushed, sweat-drenched. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, surprisingly soft now, lips lingering against your skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful— and trust me, I don’t mind having to show you that again and again until you believe it.”

————————————————————

A/N: new fave tbh

tags; @tezzzzzzzz @gwennybenny @nessaisabelartemas333 @chriss-slutt @auttysturnz @ivysturnss @musicizlife @dezsturnz2 @courta13

comment under this post to be added to this marathons taglist

[drk1ng]

a little blurb about the kings!

mel & becca grew up in a family - oriented, middle - class home. both of her parents worked while the girls were going through primary school to support the services becca was receiving outside of school ( ABA & speech therapy ). mel took her role as a sister seriously throughout their childhood; saying that becca was her best friend wasn't an exaggeration. despite how hard her parents worked & how crazy their schedules could get, it was important that everyone sat down together at the end of the day for dinner to decompress.

this comfortable routine was tragically interrupted when their father was killed in a car accident. grief settled over the king family heavily. mel had been 14. maybe it was a desperation to preserve the family that they still had, but she very quickly & very easily stepped up to help manage the responsibilities of the house. it helped her to compartmentalize, to juggle the emotions she didn't know what to do with.

mel continued to live at home to support her family when she began her undergrad program. her sights had only ever been set on medicine, and she did well in school to secure her future. during the last year of undergrad, her mother was diagnosed with a malignant pheochromocytoma. by the time doctors had caught it, it had already metastasized to her lymph nodes. despite the upheaval in the family, her mother had made it clear that not going to med school wasn't an option.

her mother began treatment the summer after she graduated with her bachelor's degree. the trajectory of mel's career centered around taking care of people, so that's what she did. the role she had taken on after her father's death continued to build.

treatment worked, and her mother went into remission after two cycles of aggressive chemotherapy. mel almost made it through her first year before the cancer came back. her mother refused treatment this time, opting instead to spend the time she had left as coherently as possible with her children. both king sisters were with her when she passed, a little over a year after her initial diagnosis.

mel became becca's primary caregiver after the passing of her mother. with the money that her parents had left & the sum they had received from their life insurance, mel took care of them both on her own until the clinical years of med school. she was able to hire part - time help when clinical hours took her away from her sister for too long.

this was the life both of them knew until becca had been accepted into the care facility in north hills, prompting mel to pursue & accept the emergency medicine rotation at pittsburgh trauma medical center.

the only constant in both of their lives has always been each other. mel has always done her best to take care of her family, and that want to do good is what pushed her to where she is today. taking care of others is what she knows best. now, becca spends the majority of the week at the care facility, but there are still routines that mel won't let either of them give up. going to a restaurant at the end of the week, watching movies elf, checking in at the same time every day to show that becca will always be a priority.

[thewretched1999]

doing everything but finishing a damn fic.