#need a rest cycle... sigh

[mewguca]

coffee

i like how lof looks here so i. am posoting thins.

[aroacesofspades]

^ face of someone (me) who just finished the arcane finale

[mallowsweetmiri]

Bestfriend!Fred with no boundaries teaches you how to have sex

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

You weren't sure what had made you so insecure recently. Maybe it was the fact that you were the only virgin in your dorm now that Katie had gotten with Oliver. Or maybe it was the fact that you'd been too scared to do anything more than snog someone at a party. Either way, you were feeling the pressure to experience what the rest of your peers were currently indulging in. The only issue was that you were too scared to make a move on anyone due to your lack of experience, so really the whole situation was an unfortunate cycle of anxiety and naivety that kept you a virgin mary. And that's how you found yourself approaching your best friend Fred in the common room.

"Hi," you said meekly, dropping onto the couch next to him. He shut his book and slung his arm over the couch.

"Hello, darling," he purred, reaching his hand over to play with your hair. You sighed and pouted, earning a chuckle from the redhead. "What's bothering you, love." He knew right away that something was off. Of course he did.

"Well," you cleared your throat, "I was hoping you could help me with... a favor." You grinned shyly at him.

"Well," he drawled, offering you a teasing smile, "Tell me what I can do for you." You groaned as your head rolled onto the back of the couch. You were already regretting coming over here.

"I- ugh this is humiliating," you groaned and covered your face. You could hear him chuckle under his breath. "Stop laughing at me." You snapped, giving him an angry glare which only made him smile wider.

"I'm not laughing at you, Y/N," he said sincerely, putting his hands up in defense, "spit it out already."

"Okay, okay," you breathed, "so you know how I... well how I've never... done more than... y'know." You huffed trying to get him to understand without actually saying it out loud.

"How you're a complete and total virgin?" He smirked, earning a smack from you.

"Fred!" you scolded. He laughed and it almost broke through your utter embarrassment. "But, yes. How I'm a complete and total virgin." You covered your face with your hands again. You could hear him chuckle as he attempted to pry your fingers off your face.

"Love, you know I'm not judging you," he said, pulling your hands down. You let his hand rub gently across your cheek, and your body relaxed. He would never judge you, and that's exactly why you were here. "So what's up?" "Okay, well I want to.. y'know," you rolled your eyes causing him to laugh, "But I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing... and I need help." You huffed and looked up at Fred to gage his reaction. That smirk was still plastered on face but was now accompanied by a raised brow. "Oh? And so you want me to..." He dragged on, teasing you. You groaned again. He loved teasing you, and watching the blush spread across your cheeks only provoked him more.

"I want you to... teach me." You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he wouldn't reject you.

"I can teach you, darling," he purred, "what are best friends for?" You bit your lip, nervous and excited that he had actually agreed to this. It was weird, knowing the two of you were about to cross a line. At the same time though, you were closer to him than anyone else. This wouldn't change anything, you were sure of it.

"Okay," you breathed, "so what do I do first?" He chuckled and looked around the room. It wasn't too busy, most everyone either at dinner or studying for exams. George and Lee sat in the corner playing cards loudly.

"Well, we can't do anything here," he hummed, standing up. You looked up at him with your brows furrowed. "Come up with me?" He stuck his hand out for you. You hesitantly nodded and took his hand. As he led you up the winding stairs towards his dorm, you were suddenly overly aware. You could feel the nerves begin to course through your body the way they always did when a boy was leading you somewhere private. Fred seemed to sense this as he shut the door to his room behind you.

"You know we'll stop whenever you want to love," he hummed, stroking his thumb across yours. You nodded, the words stuck in your throat. "Are you nervous?" You nodded again, letting a chuckle fall through your lips.

"I- I'm nervous. That's why I've never done anything before," you admitted, the blush on your face burning even more as Fred stepped forward took your face into his hand.

"Just tell me if you don't like it, okay?" Fred asked, waiting for your consent.

"Okay," you whispered, nodded slightly as you looked up at him. You watched him wet his lips with his tongue.

"Can I kiss you?" He breathed. You nodded again and held your breath as he bent down to close the space between you. A involuntary gasp left your lips when he kissed you gently, his hand finding the small of your back. You tentatively kissed him back, melting into him as his thumb swiped against your cheek in the way it had so many times before. Except it was different this time. You were kissing your best friend and he was walking you back towards the bed. You gasped when your legs hit the edge, and Fred chuckled into your lips.

"I'm assuming you've gotten this far before?" He asked, pressing his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavy from your kiss, and it was certainly a sight to see, his lips red and slick.

"Mhmm," you nodded. Although, you weren't sure if anyone had kissed you like this before.

"Good," he breathed, "I'm going to lay you on the bed now, okay?" You nodded eagerly, earning a slight chuckle from Fred. Your incoming blush was hidden when he came forward once again to take you into a kiss. This time it was deeper, and wetter. His hands found their way under you as he pushed you back onto the bed. You let out a noise as your head hit the pillow and he fell over you, connecting your lips again. He could feel your hesitancy in your actions as he kissed you, your hands staying by your sides.

"You can touch me," he smiled, taking your hand and putting it on his chest. You sucked in a breath.

"O-Okay," you fluttered, hesitantly running your finger over his collar bones.

"Good girl," he whispered as he came to kiss you for the third time. Your eyes reflexively rolled back into your head, a wave of something washing through your body. You had almost forgotten about the nerves, your body overwhelmed with feeling as your best friends hands explored down the sides of your body. His knee separated your legs in a way that almost bothered you, and that feeling was exacerbated as his thumb swiped across the front of your hip. You whined into the kiss to your complete embarrassment. Fred hummed to this.

"Did that feel good?" He asked, peppering a kiss on your jaw. You grasped his shirt collar.

"Yes? I think so," you quavered as he hummed into your neck.

"It's supposed to feel good, love. You don't have the be embarrassed," you could feel his smile against your skin, making you squirm with fluster. His hand slid up your leg to the edge of your leg.

"Do you like this?"

You nodded fervently.

"Use your words."

"Yes," you breathed out as his hand slid under your back, "I like it." It seemed that was all it took for Fred to start absolutely devouring you. You had certainly never been kissed like this before, and you wondered if everyone kissed like this or if it was just Freddie. He grunted into the kiss as he lifted your leg up slightly, pressing his hips into yours. This made you moan into his mouth, and you instantly cringed at the sound of yourself. He chuckled into the kiss and pressed his thumb back over your hip.

"Love, it's okay to make noise. In fact, I hope you'll be doing a lot more of that with this next bit," Fred reassured you, going back to peppering kisses on your neck. Were you the only one getting a bit carried away here?

"W-what's next?" you groaned in delight and his lips sucked in a nice spot.

"Have you ever been touched before?" He pulled back to look at your face.

"No," you muttered with a small shake of your head.

"Have you ever touched yourself before, darling?" He asked gently, his thumb continuing to swipe across your hip. You nodded and blushed crimson.

"Y-yes, but I've never," you shook your head.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" He asked so casually, as if this didn't make the heat rush down from your cheeks to your stomach. You weren't sure what you were expecting when Fred had agreed to teach you some new things, but you supposed this was a good start.

"Yes, please," you whispered. Fred smiled at your response, you had always been the polite type. He pushed himself off of you and began unbuttoning his shirt, towering over you as you laid sprawled on the bed. Your eyes caught on his large, freckled chest before you reckoned you should probably be doing the same. You stayed on your back as you began to clumsily unbutton your top. Your eyes stayed on Fred's fingers, his smirked dancing in the edges of your vision. You'd seen Fred shirtless countless times, but never from this angle. The way his fingers moved down his abdomen and closer to his... you were losing focus. He stripped his shirt off before coming over you to help you with yours. As he undid the last button, his eyes dropped to your breasts. His hand reach out gently to caress your waist as he lowered himself over you.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" He breathed, waiting for your consent.

"Okay," You whispered, this time coming up yourself to initiate the kiss. You had never felt this want before building inside of you, wishing that his body would press into your own. His hands explored your body, touching new places and waiting for you to sigh in approval. First they crept up the sides of your waist, then under your breasts to cup and squeeze them, which you found out you liked. You made an embarrassing squeal as he lightly rolled your nipple, which only made him do it again. His hand then traced its way down your stomach and over the front of your skirt. He pulled away for a second which made you whine and nod your head. Fred chuckled lowly as he dropped his hand down even lower, until the tips of his fingers grazed the front of your panties. It already felt better than anytime you'd touched yourself. You felt like you were going to explode when he rubbed down the front of you with his palm. You moaned into the kiss, unable to restrain yourself from bucking your hips up. You could feel yourself start to gush as his hand ghosted over your wet panties. "Next step, princess," He said, pushing your panties to the side as he searched your face for any hesitancy. At this point, your body felt as though it needed him to touch you or you would die.

"Please, Freddie," you pleaded, your hands clenching the sheets beside you. He smiled slyly in satisfaction.

"You're so well behaved, Y/N," he praised teasingly, his finger running down your slit, "such a good student." You groaned at his teasing words as his fingers ran over your clit, a shock of pleasure rushing through your body. Your hands came up to grasp his arms as his fingers moved over your clit, again and again. His eyes stayed on your face, watching as each wave of pleasure washed over you. Your stomach was beginning to knot when he dipped his finger into your entrance, moving slowly and asking for permission.

“I’ve never done that before,” your voice came out in a whine as his fingers came back up to make circles over your clit. He let out a low chuckle that sounded more like a groan.

“Do you want me to show you what it feels like?” He asked, his supporting hand grabbing the back of your neck as he ran a long swipe over your slit, making your whole body shiver. You supposed you should be embarrassed, making these faces and noises in front of your best friend. But it felt too good to care and all you wanted was to feel his fingers inside of you.

“Y-yes, show me,” you stuttered coming up to kiss Fred again, needing more of him. He breathed into the kiss as his finger grazed over your clit and down to your entrance, pushing into you ever so slightly. You were so tight, and the fact that you’d never been touched here before made Fred pant at the thought.

“Just relax, darling.” He cooed, rubbing his thumb over the back of your neck that he still held tightly in his hand. “You’re doing such a good job.” He thrust his finger in slowly, causing you to clench around him. It felt good, unfamiliar, but good. As his finger moved in then out again, you were starting to realize why everyone was so obsessed with sex. The sight of Fred panting over you didn’t hurt either.

“Fred, I- I think,” was all you could manage before you felt the knot in your stomach suddenly pulsate. A loud whine left your lips as his thumb swiped over your clit another time, sending you over the edge.

“That’s it, cum for me Y/N,” Fred encouraged, holding your head as your back arched off the bed. Unwillingly, your body writhed with pleasure as waves of your orgasm rocked through your core. Fred’s fingers begin to slow down as he kissed in the crooked of your neck, you hips slowly rocking against his hand and the last bits of pleasure drained out from you. He gave you one last kiss before pulling his finger out of you, leaving you with an empty feeling. All you could do was pant as you laid there frozen with pleasure, red and sweaty from the experience. Fred smiled down at you cheekily as he wiped your damp hair out of your face.

“How do you feel, love?” He asked, continuing to brush down your messy hair with his hands. He knows how much you hate looking disorderly, but he had to admit, you looked damn good in this position.

“I mean, that was really good,” you chuckled, covering your face with your hands again and closing your legs up. Fred chuckled and fell beside you, starting to button up your top.

“Well that’s only the first part of your lessons, but I think that’s enough for today,” he hummed, leaning over to kiss your head as he finished the last button. You groaned and rolled over to face him. You couldn’t help but stare down his body, noticing his length bulging through his khakis.

“Aren’t I supposed to do something back?” You bit your lip, running your finger down his chest. Fred stopped your hand as you reached his waistline.

“You’re not supposed to do anything, Y/N,” Fred chimed, “but if you want to learn, I can teach you that, too.” He sent you a wink and a laugh as your cheeks blushed crimson again. You rolled onto your back and let out a chuckle.

“How much more is there to learn?” You thought aloud, still in a dream state from your first orgasm.

“Well on a scale of sex god to complete and total virgin, I’d say you’re still on the latter side of the spectrum,” Fred joked, earning another slap from you.

“Oh, shut up. Just help me learn, okay?” You asked sheepishly. Fred chuckled again and smoothed down your skirt.

“That can be arranged.”

[a-la-campanella]

I've been grinding for weeks to get her.

The night of the update, I was there the minute servers were back up, with about 70 pulls worth in savings. I hadn't saved so much jade since Luocha's banner. She ran me to pity, and the minute I saw gold, Himeko was at my door. I had lost the 50/50.

In madness, I spent the past 20 days gearing characters, throwing them at the Mirror of Chaos (then Pure Fiction), completing the backlog of missions, wringing the Simulated Universe dry of lore tidbits and jade, desperately tracking my achievements... I was going through it.

I gave up on the final stretch and converted my Undying Starlight to about 10 pulls, and finally got Ruan Mei.

...and now? I'm free. Finally. She's here.

Thank gods Dr. Ratio is free. If I have to do this again in Penacony I might actually lose it.

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Shower you with love

plot: Jinwoo comes home from a dungeon in desperate need for a shower. And you.

tags: f!reader, jinwoo x reader, shower sex, heterosexual sex, fingering, cute fluffy couple stuff

wc: 1.3K

-------------------------🔹----------------------------------

It was getting pretty late. You glance at your phone again to check the time, and sigh as you decided Jinwoo was probably not coming home. The life of a Hunter was like that sometimes. All you could do was hope that he was safe and ok.

Picking yourself up from the couch to put your mug in the sink for tomorrow’s wash and get ready for bed, when you hear the front door open. The only person it could be was Jinwoo, as Jinah was staying over at a friend’s place to study and work on a project, and raced for the door. Your enthusiasm is dampened, however, and smile falters as you take in your boyfriend’s appearance at the door. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I fell in a mud pit.”

You cover your mouth not to laugh directly in Jinwoo’s face, but also cover some of the smell. Not the freshest mud you had to assume; with Gods knew what else was in the pit before Jinwoo was added to it. “Well….take all that off then. I don’t want you tracking all this ick through the house. Luckily the washer is free. Just leave it there and I’ll take care of it.”

Jinwoo obediently pulled off his shoes and the rest of his clothes. His beautiful, sculpted body becoming more & more revealed as he stripped down to his boxers, fortunately spared from the muck. “Go take a shower and I’ll toss these in. Do you want anything to eat after?” He shook his head. Jinwoo seemed tired, but that might just be the long day or just the stress getting to him, so you decided to not push on the last time he ate. “Ok. Get cleaned up and we’ll get ready for bed.”

He made his way through the apartment to the bathroom, and you made quick work of the laundry. After you finished setting up a heavy wash cycle, you heard Jinwoo call your name from the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” You ask when you arrive. Expecting the worst somehow but just finding your boyfriend standing there with the shower running.

“Take a shower with me.”

You blush at Jinwoo’s request. He looked completely serious, yet somehow a little vulnerable as he reached out to pull you further into the bathroom. How could you say no?

Stripping out of your pjs, you wait for Jinwoo to get into the shower first. It was chilly in the bathroom, but you were willing to wait to have the initial layer of filth sluff off Jinwoo’s skin before you joined him. The water was warm as it hit your back, and you let out a little sigh. “It’s not too hot, is it?”

You turn around to face Jinwoo. His eyes fixed on you with a gaze as warm as the shower. Wet hair flopping down on his face. “No. It’s perfect.”

Jinwoo smiled, then leaned forward to give you a kiss. Slow, lazy, a signal on how tired he was, but apparently not that tired. “I missed you.” That was apparent by his erection brushing against your thigh.

You shutter but try to keep coy so Jinwoo didn’t completely have the upper hand. “You were only gone for a day.” You remind him.

He pouted in response with a frown. “Time is different in the dungeons.” You would have to take his word on that.

The Hunter pulled you in for another kiss. Bodies press fully together this time. You moan as your nipples brushed against the hard planes of his chest. Those calloused hands sliding over your body with ease thanks to the water. “Jinwoo…”

“I need you.” He told you when the two of you broke free. That serious yet vulnerable look on his face again.

“Ok.” You told him and pulled him back in. He could have all of you, he only needed to ask.

Kissing again, Jinwoo turned you both around, so you were out of the direct spray and your back was against the shower wall. His hands moved down between your legs to touch you and you moan as one of his fingers slid into you. Easy with the warm water. “Jin…” You whimper as he touched you. Pumping his fingers inside as his thumb brushed against your clit.

You manage to open your eyes and find Jinwoo staring at you. Transfixed. Taking in every express. In recent months he had become more observant like this in a variety of ways, but you never thought you would be the focus of it. Having him look at you that way, as if inside you, made your stomach quake as you held onto him.

“Jinwoo please…” You buck your hips into his hand and Jinwoo needed no further encouragement.

He pulled his hand from you and asked you to lift your leg. The shelf intended for small soaps & shampoo finding a whole new purpose in your shower set up. Jinwoo stepped further into your space and lined his cock up with your entrance. Pressing forward as you moan at being filled inside by him.

It felt amazing. Being close to him again (even if it was just a day). Apparently, however, missing you left Jinwoo with very little patience. Where he would usually slow up to start, he just went in full tilt with his thrusts inside you this time. Not that you were complaining. Your moans and screams echoing off the tile of the bathroom were evidence to that. “Oh God Jinwoo! Don’t stop!”

Your lover gave a low grunt in your ear, then suddenly your legs were up around Jinwoo’s waist with ease as he pounded into you. “Fuck!” You shriek as you cling onto him. When the hell did he get so strong?!

The change in position allowed Jinwoo to fuck deeper inside you. Hard and heavy. You could feel every thrust of his cock through your body. Pure, mind-numbing pleasure.

“Oh! Oh God Jin! So good! I-I’m gonna cum-!”

“Cum for me.” And it was like his words were a new activate command, meant only for you. You cum hard. Your whole body tightening around Jinwoo as you clung to him. Your pussy seizing around his cock as he came inside you.

The two of you hold there for a moment. Jinwoo holding you against the wall with him leaning against you, and you suspended in the air. When he let you down, he did so gently. Your legs were shaky, and you were still in a wet shower. 80% of household accidents happen in the bathroom, and you have to wonder now if great sex might also be the cause.

Jinwoo washed his hair quickly, then turned around to do the same to you. While he rinsed you cleaned the rest of your body to get the sweat and mess off you. Sex wasn’t dirty but it certainly wasn’t the most hygienic activity at times. Freshly showered, Jinwoo turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub. Offering you his hand.

“Do we have any puddings left?”

You turn to look over at Jinwoo as you dried off with your towel. Smirking a little, as he looked more like a little lost puppy now, rather than the beast that just fucked you. “I think so. Why? Are you hungry now?”

Jinwoo nodded and you leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Let me make you something then. You can’t live off pudding and protein bars Jin.”

“But I like pudding.” He insisted, but didn’t argue any further as he went to put on clothes and wait for you to make him something. Just a light snack. You couldn’t send the great Hunter to bed hungry, but he did need to get to bed.

As you watched him eat, cleaning up the crumbs from the counter as he happily munched, you thought it was good to have him home.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Actually love you having Peter in the poly marauders smut! Everyone forgets about my baby lmao

I need a part 3 lmao I don’t know What I just know it’s a need. Love your writing

1 boyfriend, 1 invitation, 2 interruptions - poly!marauders

summary: you're at a lit party in the common room, and remus knows it's that time of the night when you begin to get needy. but with the full moon just 24 hours away, he can't be the one to fulfil your needs. wc: 3k+ cw: SMUT, voyeurism, exhibitionism, foursome(?), cum consumption, brief fingering... (1 bf, 3 pervs pt.3) read part 1 // 2 - bf! remus, sirius, james, peter

Remus was dripping with sweat, his shirt sticking to his skin in a way that overstimulated him just enough to the point of annoyance. But you were dancing on the other side of the room with marlene, and he knew it was the time of the night when you started to get needy. And even worse? You were ovulating. He could smell it on you. From the moment he woke up, trudging down to the common room, he knew what point you’d reached in your cycle. But Remus couldn’t help you, not with the full moon so close. His bones had already started to ache with the transformation only 24 hours away, and he felt guilty for not being able to satisfy your needs. Your eyes found his across the room, and instantly, a smile was blossoming on your face and you were ditching Marlene on the dance floor to meet your boyfriend. You threw your arms over Remus’s shoulders and pressed yourself on your tippy toes to kiss him deeply. Remus’s hands lingered on your waist and he sighed into the kiss. You frowned, pulling away to look up at your tired boyfriend. “You alright sweetheart?” He nodded, fingers intertwining with yours. 

“Yeah. You alright if it’s not me who fucks you tonight?” Your eyes widened at his bluntness. Usually, you both played a game of teasing touches and long kisses before one of you dragged the other upstairs, giggles warning his roommates of the events taking place in their dorm. “I- what do you mean?” Remus nodded his head across the common room, gesturing for you to follow him. You snaked through dancing bodies until you were stood in a secluded part of the room, where Sirius chatted with the Prewett twins, a cigarette hanging between his lips. Remus threw an arm around Sirius’s shoulders, joining in on light conversation. Sirius glanced towards you, a smile forming on his lips. “Hey, you.” He teased, and you felt your face growing warmer than it already was. You reached across Remus for Sirius’s cigarette. “Can I?” “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He flirted, dropping the cigarette between his fingers and handing it to you.

“You mind if I steal him away from you boys for a bit?” Remus cut in just as you blew the smoke away, tugging Sirius in his direction. The twins shook their heads, saying their goodbyes, and Remus led you by the hand deeper in the common room and Sirius by the arm around his shoulders. You wound up in a small room where you usually spent after parties together, or afternoons with the boys planning pranks and you begging your boyfriend for attention. It was dark. With only one tall window making space for moonlight, and a dim fireplace, it was always the perfect place to share secrets and gossip. No one really knew about this room, so with Remus’s genius and Peter’s ambiverted love for privacy, the marauders decided to create a system where only you and the four boys could enter this room. Which was perfect for Remus’s plan. You thew the cigarette into the fireplace and sat on the only couch in the room, swinging your legs up to rest on the cushions, dress riding up in the process.

Sirius began walking over to you, but Remus held him back, pulling the boy closer to him. “Listen, no matter what, you can’t cum inside her.” Sirius’s eyebrows shot up, and he grinned widely. “You’re letting me fuck your girlfriend?” Instead of answering, Remus just repeated “I’ll kill you if you cum inside her.” “Well can I cum inside you?” The retort came quick, and had Remus jerking away from Sirius in shock. His heart started to race, and despite the fact that he could hear Sirius’s heart racing with nerves, his confident front intimidated Remus. Sirius stepped closer to Remus, putting a hand on his hip as he leaned in close, pressing a short kiss to his lips. Remus froze and his eyes drifted to where you sat watching them, a smile on your face. “Think of it while I make love to your girlfriend.” Sirius teased, turning around to face you. He quickly climbed over you on the couch, immediately capturing your lips in a kiss. “I was worried you guys were going to have all the fun without me.” You muttered against Sirius’s lips, a hand playing with his hair whilst the other hugged him closer to you.

Remus swallowed thickly. He remembered how angry he was last time he saw Sirius kiss you, but now, feeling Sirius’s lips on his? It ignited something in him. A flash of movement knocked him out of his daze, and he blinked a couple of times, watching Sirius throw his shirt somewhere in the room. Remus slowly sat on the floor near the fireplace, where he had the perfect view of you and Sirius: tongues tangling in a messy kiss, hands wandering under layers of clothes. Sirius gasped when you palmed his cock under his trousers, bucking his hips into your hand. “Take them off.” Sirius was off you in an instant, tripping over his feet to take his trousers off. Just as Sirius gripping the hem of his boxers, the door slammed open. “Oh that’s not fair!” Cried Peter the instant he realised what was happened. Sirius froze, unsure what to do, but you were instantly dragging him back onto you by the hand, calling out “Pete, I promise it’s your turn next!” The squeak of Pete’s “Okay!” was drowned out by James’s jealous groan and whine of “What about me?”

The two boys sat next to Remus on the floor, who looked at them and asked “How’d you guys know we were here?” James shrugged, replying with “We didn’t, but Pete got sick of the party so we escaped.” “Ten times better, this is.” Added the blonde boy, taking a swig of beer. You broke your kiss with Sirius, causing his moans to get louder as you continued stroking his cock. “Only ten?” You teased, letting go of Sirius’s cock so that he could tug your dress over your head. You giggled when he eagerly pounced on you, lips connecting with your neck as he shimmied your lace panties off. 

Sirius gripped his cock, one hand on your hip, but his movements were quickly stalled by a call from your boyfriend. “Don’t just stick it in! What, have you never had sex before?” Remus grunted, trying to push himself up from the floor. He winced, and Peter immediately rushed to help him up. Remus limped over to you both, his bad leg suddenly acting up, and he flopped on the couch next to you and Sirius. Sirius’s cheeks were flushed bright red in humiliation as Remus cupped one of your cheeks, a look of adoration on his face as he trailed his second hand down your abdomen and to your pussy. He easily found your clit, rubbing steady circles on you, watching as wetness pooled between your legs, listening closely to the way your breath hitched in your throat. Remus slid his fingers down to your entrance, effortlessly plunging them into you and pumping them inside you a few times. Sirius gasped loudly, watching as you clasped your hand around his dick, stroking him, your own lips parted in a breathy moan. Remus’s fingers slid out of you, and he put them in his mouth, humming in satisfaction as he rose off the couch once more, leaning on both James and Peter’s shoulders to help lower himself into the ground. 

“Go ahead.” Sirius followed Remus’s encouragement, lowering himself closer to you and guiding his cock down to your entrance. He slowly pushed into you, biting his bottom lip as though it would help him control his movements. “Jesus, I’ve been waiting for this forever.” He groaned, throwing his head back as he bottomed out. You moaned, grabbing Sirius by the shoulders and pulling him closer to you, until his chest was touching yours. You dug your nails into his shoulders, distantly hearing Remus scoff “Yeah, I’m still waiting to get that picture back by the way.” 

Sirius immediately set a fast pace, hips snapping into yours with a brutality that would leave angry bruises on your skin tomorrow. “Kiss me, Sirius.” You begged, and Remus watched possessively from across the room as Sirius lowered himself down to connect his mouth to yours in an open mouthed-kiss, tongues hungrily gliding against each other. Remus furrowed his eyebrows: It wasn’t jealousy he felt, no, it was something more powerful than that. lt was a desire, a craving. You arched your back, detaching your and Sirius’s lips in the process, mouth opening in a high pitched moan that had the three watching boys hardening in their trousers. Well, Remus was hard ages ago, but that was besides the point.

Sirius’s lips travelled down your face to your chest, and he cupped your breasts, guiding one of them towards his mouth, where his lips wrapped around your nipple and he started sucking harshly. You gasped loudly, wrapping your legs around Sirius’s waist and using them to tug him closer to you. You both gasped as he suddenly pushed into you balls-deep, and Sirius was instantly cringing from the way he almost burst, bringing a hand down to your cunt and between your folds to find your clit. He shut his eyes in focus until he finally found your clit, extracting an immediate reaction out of you. “Fuck!” Sirius cursed against your skin, stopping his thrusts to grind into you instead, trying to hold himself back from coming whilst making you cum too. 

Sirius switched his mouth to your second nipple, and the second he began suckling in it, you were coming with a loud moan that had James worriedly glancing towards the room’s closed door. You snaked a hand into Sirius’s hair, harshly pulling it in a way that had Sirius crying out loudly, pulling out of you in a hurry to he could release his load onto your stomach, Remus’s threat ringing in his mind. Sirius groaned as he caught his breath, finally making eye contact with you and spotting the smile on your face. You giggled, glancing down at the milky ropes of cum on your abdomen, dipping your finger into it before putting it in your mouth and humming in satisfaction, making a show of pushing your chest out as you shut your eyes. 

Sirius pushed himself up, stumbling away from you as he caught his breath, reaching for his boxers. “Oh god, I need a break. I’ll be back for you though.” Panted Sirius, winking at you flirtatiously as he slumped down on the red rug. 

You pouted, humming with pretense disappointment, before grinning again. “You do? Oh well. Pete, get over here.” The boy stood up quickly, tripping over his feet as he rushed over you, taking his jacket off. “How is she doing that?” Asked Sirius, looking over to Remus with wide eyes. “She’s ovulating.” “Fuck that’s hot.” The mumble came from James, who’d been unusually quiet all night. Remus and Sirius both looked at him, smirks on their faces at the sight of the boy shyly palming his cock through his jeans. “Shut up.” He said, face flushing at the sight of his best friends staring at him. Remus re-averted his gaze towards you, grinning when you tangled your hand through Peter’s soft blond hair. The boy looked up at you through lust-filled eyes, and he leaned down to lick a bold stripe up your stomach, cleaning you of Sirius’s cum. 

Your mouth dropped in shock. You weren’t expecting that from sweet, shy Peter, and you certainly weren’t expecting him to come back up and connect your lips in a sloppy kiss, letting you taste Sirius’s cum on his tongue. You eagerly unbuttoned Peter’s shirt, and he aided you in its removal, peeling off his undershirt too. While Peter busied himself with taking of his trousers, you spun around to lay down your stomach, on your knees with your chest flat on the couch. Peter’s breath hitched loudly, both his hands coming to your ass to grope at the fat, his jaw slack in awe. “Pete?” You pushed your ass back, encouraging the boy to run the tip of his cock through your folds before teasingly dipping into your entrance. Peter groaned, all patience dissipating from his body as he finally felt the inside of your gummy walls pulsing around his cock. 

Beggars can’t be choosers, or in other words, he had been waiting too long to feel your cunt on his cock to be the one teasing you. Since you were well prepared by Sirius, Peter had no trouble pushing into you all the way from the get go. He didn’t recognize the sound that escaped his body; despite his extreme pleasure, it sounded like a mix of pain and discomfort, but perhaps it was just Peter trying to stop himself from immediately coming. You didn’t realise that maybe going for a second round so quickly may have an effect on your body, because almost as soon as Peter began thrusting into you, your thighs had started shaking. 

Peter gathered the hair behind your head in a loose hold, cooling you down despite the hot sweat glimmering on your skin. A steady string of moans escaped you with each slam of Peter’s cock into your pussy. Your body jerked forward, skin painfully pulling on the brown leather of the couch underneath you, but the sting only added to your pleasure. You squeezed your legs together in a desperate attempt to add friction to your clit, and Peter seemed to sense your discomfort, leaning down so his chest touched yours as he wrapped an arm around your front, his other tightly gripping the arm of the couch. His loud pants wrung in your ear and he grunted, pulling your chest off the couch so you could rest both your arms next to his on the arm of the couch. You tried thanking him, but all that came out was a breathy mumble of syllables.

“Fuck!” You cried, suddenly arching your back against Peter’s chest as he found a new angle, the tip of his cock grazing your cervix with each hump of his hips.

“Oh Pete!” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure, eyes stapling shut. “Looks like you’ve got some competition.” James muttered to Sirius, now stroking himself underneath his boxers. Sirius didn’t reply, but a grumble vibrated in his chest, making James chuckle. “Don’t worry, when I get my chance with her, she’ll prefer mine over Pete’s.” Sirius scoffed, crossing his arms over his naked chest. “You gonna challenge Remus now too?” The boy fired back, glancing at you when you let out a particularly loud moan. He didn’t receive an answer from James, but Remus, who laughed whole heartedly, slapping a hand on his chest. “You boys are lucky I even let you see her naked.” James and Sirius gulped in unison, shying away from eye contact with Remus “Oh god!” You cried when Peter’s fingers found your clit, rubbing desperately when his thighs started shaking, on the brink of his orgasm. 

“Fuck, cum for me.” He begged, voice breaking, thrusts becoming sloppy. His words were like a trigger for you, activating your orgasm. Peter continued thrusting into you as you moaned loudly until you were telling him to stop “I can’t, I-“ Peter happily pulled out, letting you slump down on the couch as he brought his hand to his  cock, giving himself two good pumps until he was coming all over your back with a broken up moan. “Oh shit, oh fuck, I’m sorry.” He mumbled, catching his breath and looking around the room for some tissues. James threw the box of tissues at Peter, who barely caught it, spurts of cum still shooting out of his cock. Peter fumbled with the box when his orgasm finally wore off before wiping his cum off you. The boy put a hand on your shoulder, feeling the way your body rose and fell with each breath you took. “You okay?” He asked worriedly, helping you sit up properly when you began to move. You nodded your head, watching as James stood up from his place in the floor to pick up your discarded dress. “You boys are my heroes.” You muttered with a teasing smile, glancing around at the four boys in the room. “Yeah?” James asked, approaching you and helping you pull your dress over your body. You nodded, sticking your arms through the right holes and put your hands out for James to help you up.

He gladly pulled you off the couch, one hand securing itself around your waist and you pointed in Remus’s direction. “Take me to my boyfriend, will you?” Remus stood up at your words, opening his arms when you finally reached him and accepting the eager kiss you planted on his lips. Remus groaned quietly, hugging you closer to him and letting you slip your tongue in his mouth. With your lips on his, and bodies so close to each other, Remus forgot about the others in the room, hearing the steady beat of your heart. You broke away from the kiss, leaning your forehead against his whilst offering “How about we shower and go to bed? Make sure you’re well rested before tomorrow?” Remus nodded, and you were instantly sliding your hand in his and guiding him out of the room and into his dorm.

Sirius, James and Peter stood silently in the room, watching you both leave, before turning to each other. “Well, I can’t complain.” Shrugged Peter, tucking himself back into his trousers. Sirius barked out a laugh, muttering words of agreement whilst James huffed in disappointment. “I didn’t even cum!” Sirius wrapped an arm over the boy’s shoulders, guiding him to the couch. “Don’t worry mate, I’ll take care of you.” And James was instantly blushing and taking off his trousers for his best friend, leaving Peter to smoke a cigarette by the open window. 

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28

[peachiejeongin]

Mind-Numbing Melody | Bang Chan

Synopsis: Chan has been unmotivated lately when it comes to producing; however, he comes across a melodic idea that he just cannot resist. He just needs your help to fulfill it.

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, Slight Fluff

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (18+ Recommended), dom!Bang Chan, sub!reader, pet names (pretty girl, darling, good girl, etc.), biting, marking, fingering, slight edging, teasing, begging, unprotective penetrative sex (please use protection), Chan uses reader's moans in a song

Notice: Hello, my darlings! I know it has been weeks since the release of SKZHOP, but Railway has been driving me absolutely bonkers, so enjoy this fiction I wrote when I discovered you could hear Chan moaning in the background of the song :,D

Divider By: @anitalenia

Smut under the cut!

The studio was steeped in a familiar glow, its dim lighting wrapping around stacks of forgotten notes, tangled cords, and empty coffee cups that lined the console like weary sentinels. Chan hunched over the keyboard, fingers tapping an irregular, impatient rhythm. It had been days, weeks even, of this same cycle—blank stares at a blank screen, fleeting sparks of inspiration that fizzled out as quickly as they arrived.

The room smelled faintly of espresso and something sharper, a sort of musk as if Chan's frustration was materializing into a smell. The scent was Chan's constant companion these days, a reminder that no matter how hard he pushed, the music would remain just out of reach.

You watched him from the warm leather couch in the corner, your legs curled beneath you as your phone rested forgotten on your lap. He was quiet, but not in the comforting way he usually was. This silence was heavy, nearly oppressive.

"You're going to burn a hole into that screen," you finally said, your voice teasing but soft, careful not to break him entirely out of whatever fragile trance he was in.

Chan glanced over his shoulder at you, a faint, tired smile curving his lips upwards in a manner that did not quite reach his eyes.

"Maybe I can burn some inspiration into it," he murmured, turning back to the keyboard. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that let you know how sore it was from hours of tensing.

He absentmindedly clicked through the tabs open on his browser, hoping something would reignite his motivation. A playlist was open on his monitor, softly blaring tracks from artists he admired; most of them were songs that sparked awe and envy in an equal measure. But it was the headline of an article on trends in modern music that caught his eyes, words he had previously skimmed earlier in the day: "Personal Touch: The Rise of Intimacy in Music Production."

He had not thought much of it at the time, dismissing it as another gimmick. Now, in the late-night haze of desperation and coffee-stained reality, the concept felt like a thread to cling to. The idea of creating something raw, something undeniably intimate, grew in his mind. When he looked at you, lounging on that couch as if you were a calm in the storm, an idea began to crystalize.

You caught his gaze, brows furrowing slightly in concern as you noticed the shift in his expression—an intense focus, almost predatory, like he had just discovered something precious.

"What?" you asked, nerves and curiosity blending in your tone.

Chan stood slowly, the chair rolling back with a low creak. When he crossed the room, every step deliberate, your heart began to beat just a bit faster. He dropped to one knee in front of you, the studio's ambient light casting shadows against the defined angles of his jawline. His fingers found your thighs, resting there lightly at first, then gripping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

"I need your help," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through you.

"With what, my love?" You tilted your head, trying to read the intent behind his lustful, dark eyes.

"There's this idea I have," he began, thumb absently stroking the fabric of your sweatpants. "I read this article—something about artists using intimate sounds from their partners in songs. Breaths, moans, everything. I can't stop thinking about how you would sound in one of my songs." His gaze dropped to where his fingers rested against your thighs, almost reverent in a way.

"Your voice, the way you sound when it's just us...I think it could be the spark I'm missing."

Your breath caught in your throat. The idea was audacious, bordering on the verge of scandalous, yet it held an allure you could not deny. You imagined it— your moans hidden between beats and chords only you could notice.

"You're serious?" you questioned, voice barely reaching above a whisper. Chan nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a certain vulnerability that made your heart clench.

"I've been so stuck, but the thought of creating something with you that's so raw and real...it just feels right."

You swallowed, the weight of his request pressing down on you in the best possible way. The trust, the intimacy—it was more than you had ever imagined sharing with Chan, moreso the audience that would be tuning into the song.

"Okay," you agreed softly, the word containing every ounce of trust and anticipation you felt.

Chan's lips curved into a slow, sincere smile, and he leaned foreward to press a kiss against your forehead. It was warm, lingering, a promise as much as it was a kiss.

"You have no idea how much this means to me," he mumbled as he pulled away.

Before you could reply, he captured your lips with his, a kiss that was at first gentle, exploratory; it then deepened into something that made the studio air feel heavy, electric. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into him, a symphony in the making.

This kiss grew hungrier, if that was possible, your hands tangling roughly into Chan's hair as he remained steady on your thighs. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and the soft gasp it elicited made him groan against your mouth.

"Just like that, pretty girl," he whispered, his voice hoarse as his lips brushed against yours.

Chan pulled away from you briefly, striding to his computer and clicking open an audio-recording tab; the faint glow of the monitor casted a faint shadow on the walls. You repositioned yourself as he opened the taper, falling back onto the cushions; he made his way back over to you, climbing over top of you on the couch, his hands tracing an agonizingly slow path up your sides.

Every movement and every touch was unhurried, deliberate as though he was tuning you, finding the exact pitch that made you hum beneath his touch. His fingers danced over your skin, like he was learning the contours of an instrument. The press of his lips ignited sparks at every point of contact.

"Channie," you whispered as you intertwined one of his warm hands with yours; he stroked your cheek gently, smiling ever so lovingly at you.

"Relax for me," he purred before nipping his teeth at your neck ever so slightly. The motion caused you to shiver, your breath hitching in your throat as his lips travel from your neck slowly to your chest. There, he sucked small markings into your skin until purple and red adorned your chest. Welts became present due to his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before Chan moved to fiddle with the hem of your top.

"Are you alright with taking this further?" Chan questioned, assuring that he had your full consent before going farther.

"Yes," you breathed out, the words nearly getting stuck in your throat; your gaze flickers to the computer screen, watching as the speakers picked up each noise, the audio receptor's lines expanding with each recipient.

With your approval, Chan stripped you of your top, agonizingly slow albeit, his fingers moving their way to the clasp of your bra. He managed to undo the latch in one, swift motion, and before giving you time to think, his lips wrapped around your nipple.

You moaned as the warmth from his mouth and the wetness of his tongue sucked, kissed, and bit at your nipple, his tongue gliding over the sensitive region. His hands caressed your hips slowly before the right one moved up to attend to the neglected breast; his fingers rolled the bud, pinching, flicking and eliciting beautiful sounds from you.

"Don't hold back" Chan breathed out. "I want to hear everything."

At this point, your body was burning, both from Chan's actions and from the awareness that this was all going to be on tape; you felt a coating of arousal pool up at your core, causing you to rub your clothed thighs together in attempts to gain some sort of friction. Chan noticed the action almost instantly, grinding his hips slightly into yours; you sighed almost out of relief as you felt his own arousal poking through the black fabric of his loose shorts.

Chan lifts off of you, his hands reaching for the bottom of his hoodie; however, you stopped him, your hands mirroring his actions. You wanted to strip him, wanted to be the one to revel in revealing his perfection. Chan sighed out of contenment as you lifted the sweatshirt over his head, messing up his hair in the process and discarding the article somewhere on the studio floor.

Ridding the hoodie revealed a toned torso, with glimmering, slightly-tanned abs sparkling in the glow of the studio. You instinctually moved your hands to lay upon his chest, just as you had done so many times before, sliding your palms down his body smoothly and causing him to shiver. He positioned his body back above you, leaning over your smaller frame.

"Let me take care of you, Love," he lightly growled out as he moved his hands down to hook under the waistband of your pants, flicking his gaze to meet yours for approval. You nodded repeatedly, causing Chan to giggle as he slid your pants and underwear down, throwing the clothing alongside his hoodie.

He relished at your arousal, his eyes looking blown out before any sexual act had been committed.

"Look at you, Darling," he whispered, sliding a fingers through your wetness and causing you to whine. "Always so pretty for me."

Before you could comprehend his words, your mind increasingly numbing at his actions, Chan inserted his pointer fingers, pumping the digit in and out of you slowly. The contact elicited a string of hearty, genuine moans from you; admittedly, you were louder than you usually were during sex. You were not sure if it was because of the arousal of being recorded or if you just felt particularly frustrated that day.

Whatever it was, the sounds escaping you were particularly tumultuous, and Chan thought the octave was perfect for what he wanted to accomplish.

Chan inserted his middle finger minutes after his first digit, his pace quickening along with the speed of your whines. He maneuvered his hands, reaching to where his thumb could brush against your clit and allowing you to feel as if you were on cloud nine. You repeatedly clenched around him, feeling your orgasm creeping up on you slowly but surely; however, Chan removed his fingers before you could reach the finish line, which earned a loud, aggravated whine from you.

"Channie!" you groaned, your pussy clenching around nothing as you bucked your hips up instinctively, attempting to receive any type of contact, even the slightest motion, that would bring you to your end.

"Why?"

"Adds an element of fun," Chan responded, his lips quirked into a smug smirk, "both to the music and to our little moments."

"I can't wait anymore, Chan," you whimpered out in response, making your boyfriend tsk at you appraisingly before he slid off his own bottoms.

He quickly lined his cock up with your entrance, rubbing through your folds teasingly; he complimented the prior action poking at the hole.

"Are you ready, Darling?" he questioned.

"Yes!" you yelped out, positioning your legs to wrap around Chan's torso.

"Beg for it, then," he commanded, causing your eyes to widen and your cheeks to flush from embarassment.

"This wasn't apart of the plan," you quietly mewled as Chan halted his teasing motions.

"Mm, maybe not, but I know what gets a reaction out of you," Chan admitted leaning down to whisper in your ear, his hot breath fanning your ears. "I gotta make sure this melody encapsulates as much of your perfection as possible. So, baby girl, if you want the same thing, I suggest you get to begging."

You let out an annoyed huff, your lips pursing into a sheepish pout as you reluctantly did as demanded of you.

"Please, Channie," you pleaded, your arms gripping his shoulders. "I need you so bad please. Please, please, please, baby." Chan chuckled lightly at your beseeching as he placed his hands on either side of your face.

"Good girl," he praised gently.

With that, he gently pushed himself inside of you. You both gasped at the feeling; Chan's length filled you completely, causing you to tingle with excitement as the familiar stretch swiftly morphed from pain into pleasure.

You gave Chan the go-ahead to move, and he held your hips tightly as he thrusted in and out of you; his lips parted, making their way to kiss and nip at your skin, the tips of his canines lightly poking you.

"You always feel so amazing, my love," he moaned out; you simply sighed in pleasure, clenching yourself around him as you melted into his stature. Rushes of pleasure shot throughout your body as Chan tighlty gripped onto your hips, his nails causing indents in your flesh.

The knot tightening in your stomach returns throughout Chan's thrusts, and you are unable to comprehend the sudden change in his demeanor from gentle to hazy. All you know is that it feels good and that you are losing yourself within his darkened gaze.

"Chan, oh my," you moan out, your voice high pitched and hoarse.

"You like that, Darling?" Chan questions as your noises pick up in pace. "Keep moaning for me. You're doing so well."

"'M close," you whimper out, holding onto Chan for dear life. Chan mandhandles your body upwards, still holding onto you in the new positions and burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"Cum for me then, Love," he commands; as soon as he gives the approval , your orgasm hits. Your brain becomes like mush, and your eyes flutter shut as the pleasure rocks through you.

You feel Chan halt in his movements and he slowly pulls out of you, allowing himself to finish on your stomach before laying beside you.

"Still with me?" he questions, pulling you into his arms.

"Mhm," you mumble, just barely able to hear his words. You feel tired all of a sudden, tangling your hands in Chan's hair, albeit much lighter this time.

"You did so good, Baby," Chan praised, holding you tightly against him. "Wait until you hear how beautiful you sound."

A week had passed since that night in the studio. You had not been allowed to hear the song yet, as Chan insisted it was, "not ready." His process was meticulous, almost obsessive, and though your curiosity burned, you let him do his thing.

Now, you were back in the studio, perched on the same couch where it had all happened. Chan stood by the mixing console, his headphones draped around his neck, a spark of nervous energy buzzing in his movements.

“It’s done,” he said, running a tired hand through his hair.

You shifted in your seat, heart thudding with anticipation.

“You’re making it sound like I should be scared,” you teased, though the slight tremble in your words told him part of you was nervous.

He shot you a lopsided grin, approaching you and sitting beside you on the couch. Strangely, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“You don’t have to listen if you’re not ready," he explained, his tone laced with a sense of reluctance. "It’s...intimate.” The way his voice dipped sensually on the last word made your pulse quicken and you instantly shook your head.

“No, I want to hear it,” you declined his offer, your words uttered softly. "Play it, please."

He nodded, a faint smile present as he slid his headphones over your ears and pressed play on the monitor. The room went silent, save for the faint hum of the equipment. As the first notes filled your ears, everything else slowly faded away.

The song started softly; it was a deep, pulsing rhythm that felt like a heartbeat, layered with delicate chords that swept over you like a whisper. Then, beneath the music, you heard it.

You.

It was a faint gasp, so quiet it almost blended into the background vocals, followed by the softest of moans mixed into the melody. The sounds sent a rush of heat to your cheeks as your mind flashed back to that night, to Chan’s hands, his lips, and the way he had coaxed those very sounds from you.

Your breath caught as the track built, the sensual undertones unmistakable. Every layer of the song felt personal, your breaths and your voice intertwined with the raw intensity of Chan's production. It was not overtly explicit, but the sensuality was undeniable, a secret language only the two of you could speak woven into the music.

When the track ended, you pulled the headphones off and stared at him, your mouth slightly agape.

“Chan...” You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw the headphones at him. “That’s me.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, though his eyes searched yours for any sign of disapproval.

“It’s us,” he corrected. “I wanted it to feel sincere, like it replicated us to a tee.”

Your cheeks burned, contrasting the thrill that coursed through your veins. Chan scooted closer, leaning in front of you so his face was mere inches away from yours.

“You’re my muse,” he told you simply. “Every sound, every breath—it’s you. You inspire me.”

You shook your head, laughing softly.

“If people hear this-”

“They won’t know it’s you, if they even notice it's there,” he reassured, his voice gentle. “It’s subtle. Just for us.”

Your lips parted, still processing, but before you could say anything else, he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin.

"You don't hate it, do you?"

“Hate it?” you echoed, shaking your head on denial. “I could never hate anything you create. The song is absolutely beautiful. It’s just...”

“Just?”

“...Really hot,” you admitted, biting your lip.

A deep laugh rumbled from his chest, and he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because it’s the most personal thing I’ve ever made, and I want it to be for you as much as it is for me or for the fans.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Well,” you began, your voice dropping to a playful whisper, “if you ever need more inspiration..” Your voice trailed off as your fiddled with the chain of his necklace, your forehead still pressed gently against his. Chan grinned, his fingers tightening on your waist.

“Don’t tempt me, y/n.”

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

[cosmicporos]

Arcane character x GN! Reader on Period.

synopsis: Just some period comfort hcs with Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Ekko, Mel and Jinx!

Warning: Cursing. 18+ FOR JINX, no smut but somewhat spicy. Rest of the characters are fluff.

Please enjoy! So sorry it took me so long!

Viktor

He’s very educated on menstrual cycles to begin with! (Biology nerd)

Definitely has a calendar and keeps track of all your cycles.

The day before you’re supposed to get your period he comes home from shopping and restocks on food and pads, tampons, ibuprofen etc.

Would definitely give you a massage to help with cramps.

“Beloved?” Viktor knocked from behind the door before proceeding to enter your shared room. "I got what you needed," he said, setting down the grocery bag containing both the tampons and pads. “And these," he added, revealing a variety of your favorite chocolates, salty chips, and even a bottle of your preferred tea.

You blinked at him, your expression shifting from surprise to gratitude. "You didn't have to-"

“Tsk, tsk, tsk” He quickly shushed you. His free hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I wanted to. Now, do me a favor and relax." Before you could protest or question any further, he knelt down by your side, his clever hands carefully lifting the edge of the blanket. "Turn over, Darling” he coaxed, and when you complied, he placed his hands on your lower back, his touch warm and deliberate.

"I read this helps," Viktor murmured as his fingers began to work small, soothing circles into your tense muscles. You feel your muscles loosen and quickly melt into Viktor’s touch.

His hands run a little on the colder side, yet they still work their magic and alleviate the pain in your abdomen.

"You're too good to me," you murmured, your voice muffled as you rested your head against your arm.

"Nonsense," Viktor replied, his voice low and unwavering. "You endure so much… this is the least I can do." He says leaving a small gentle kiss on your cheek.

Jayce

He’s the biggest softy for you on your period oh boy oh boy oh boy. He is completely at your beck and call.

He’s also super carful about your emotional during this time. He tries his hardest to leave work on time and come home!

He understands mood swings can happen and he’s very patient! He accidentally messed up and ticked you off? He’ll nod along as you lecture him and act like a kicked puppy. Then afterwards will ask if you’re okay and if you need space. Will 100% make up and apologize by getting you a sweet treat :3

Jayce finally made his way back home, shoulders heavy and tense. his tie askew and his hair slightly mussed, looking like he'd run the entire way home. You stand up from your place on the couch and place a soft kiss on his lips. “Welcome home” you smile at home before your eyes lower to see an empty handed Jayce. "You forgot?" you said quietly, your voice heavy with disappointment.

Jayce froze, guilt washing over his face. "Forgot what?"

"The heating pad," you replied, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. "You said you'd grab it on your way home. I've been in pain all day, Jayce."

His heart sank. "Oh no," he whispered moving to run a hand down his hair. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I don't know how I missed it…”. He thinks for a moment before he says, “That’s on me, and I'll fix it right now!" He turned to leave, planning to head straight back to the lab.

"No... that's alright Jayce, just please remember next time." You grab hold of his sleeve. He let out a soft sigh and turned around to face you.

"I'm so sorry about that sweetheart... Honestly I was just excited to get back home to you is all." He mumbled into your hair as he pulled you into a hug.

"No no it's fine really, it's not too big of a deal" The warmth of his body slowly encapsulating itself protectively over you.

“No you should be upset it’s okay! I’ll be more responsible next time.” His puppy eyes glowing as if he almost wanted you to be mad at him. It was incredibly difficult to deny Jayce whenever he would behave like this…

“I uh…. O-okay?…. Please do better next time.” Your eyes are looking at anything else but at him.

"... you need to be mad at me until I figure out how to make it up to you." His strong arm coming up from behind to softly pat your side. "How does that sound?"

You laugh off the pervious nerves “I think that sounds perfect" You tilt your head up to face him and press a warm soft kiss to his cheek.

Vi

Okay I feel like for Vi for some reason you two would always be synced

She’s all tough and prepared on day one until day two hits and… that’s a different story

You always end up completely staying home together on the second day of your periods

You groaned as another cramp hit, curling further into yourself under the layers of warmth. Next to you, Vi let out a sharp exhale through her nose, gripping the heat pack on her stomach.

"This is some sick joke," Vi muttered, her voice heavy with irritation. She shifts on the bed, but the movement only made her wince. "I could take a punch to the gut, no problem, but this? This is worse than any fight I've been in."

You scoot closer towards Vi drapes an arm over you, pulling you snug against her chest. Her hand found your hair, fingers threading through it lazily.

"We're a mess," you mumbled into her tank top.

"Yeah," she admitted, pressing her cheek against the top of your head. "But at least we're a mess together."

Vi is totally one to do a complete 180 on the next day.

While you’re still dying of pain she manages to get out of bed early and heads to the store to pick up some stuff

Vi's heavy boots thudded softly against the floor, the sound bringing a flicker of relief. "Alright, babe," her familiar rasp broke the silence, “I got a couple of things for you”

“Don’t you mean us?” You sit up straight and tilt your head a little confused.

“Oh no, I’m doing fine sweetheart don’t you worry. But… I know you probably still feel like a sack of shit so I picked up some goodies for you.” she pulled out an assortment of snacks like chips, gummy candy, soda, juice..(if it had sugar she’s go it!…)

“If these cramps won’t kill me… the amount of sugar here will…” Your eyebrows furrowed at the mess of snacks in front of you.

“Oh pip down will you? Haven’t even gotten to the best part.” What she pulled out next made your breath hitch. It was a small, ridiculously cute plushie. A chubby fox with big shiny eyes and a fluffy tail. Vi plopped it onto your lap as she smirked from your reaction. “Cute huh?” She sits down next to you. “I picked it out cuz it reminded me of you”

Your face flushed instantly, a mix of embarrassment and warmth flooding through you. You picked up the fox, turning it over in your hands. Its fluffy tail was so soft it almost felt unreal, and the wide, shiny eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the room. "Reminded you of me?" you asked, glancing at Vi with a raised brow.

“Yeah well… it’s cute and small.. so it reminds me of you.” She leaned back against the headboard, “And it’s a little spunky. Just like you.”

You roll your eyes and softly punch her shoulder. "It does cheer me up," you admitted softly, clutching the plush fox closer. "Thank you, Vi."

She wraps an arm around you shoulder and pulls you in “No problem Cupcake, anything for you.”

Ekko

HES PANICKING

but in the outside he’s cool as a cucumber

The inside? oh god. He’s stressing out about making sure all your needs are met.

You are not allowed to go on missions during this time at all. He doesn’t exactly forbid it per say but he does shoot a glare whenever you flinch due to the pain of your cramps. He’s always behind you making sure you’re okay

He’s like a little momma bird

You were currently getting ready for a mission, bag laying across the table as you carefully prepare stuffing it full of food, medical supplies, bombs and your trusty lock pick. Ekko leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with that ever so perceptive gaze of his.

"You good?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, fine," you replied, wincing as another cramp twisted in your stomach. You shake your head cursing at your own reaction.

He was by your side in seconds, gently taking the pack from your hands. "You're lying."

“Ekko please…” you straightened your back. "I'm fine," you insisted, reaching for the pack again, but Ekko held it out of reach.

reach.

"You think I don't notice you wincing every five seconds?" His voice softened, though his eyes stayed firm. "You can't go out like this.”

“I’m not some baby. Believe me I’ll be just fine.”you protested, though even you could hear how unconvincing you

“Look… you sound way too unconvincing and because you’re way too stubborn…” He paused looking at you and finally smiling. “How about I skip out on this mission too? And you know.. take care of my girl?.” A proud and playful smile adorns his lips while he waits for your response.

You’re a little surprised, not because he doesn’t put you first but because he’s allowing himself to relax in a way as well. “Are you sure about that?" you ask, your voice softer than you intended. "I mean... this mission sounds important. I don't want you to–“

"Stop." He cuts you off gently, stepping closer. The distance between you shrinks, and you feel his hand come to rest on your shoulder, steady and warm. "I've been out there long enough to know the world ain't gonna fall apart if I sit one out." He takes a deep breath and continues, "I know I push myself too hard sometimes. And yeah, protecting our people is important and all, but so is being here. With you. What's the point of fighting if I can't take a moment to enjoy what I'm fighting for?"

“Ekko…” His words hit you harder than you expected, the vulnerability in them catching you off guard.

"Yeah firefly?…” He tilts his head, watching you carefully. His hands fidgeting together like a nervous child.

You let out a small sigh, your resolve crumbling. "Just... don't make a habit of this, okay? The Firelights need you."

"They'll manage," he says with a wink. "I'll make it up to 'em. Promise." He finally makes his way over to you placing a small kiss on your neck before continuing. “But let me make it up to you first okay?”

Jinx

18+

Okay jinx is an absolute horndog when you’re on your period

You got cramps? Uhhhh…. Solution????… her mouth and fingers.

“Love bug come onnnnnn! You know making you cum will help with cramps! What’s the big deal?” She sighed dramatically flopping over the table in front of her.

“Love bug?…” You questioned. “And the deal is I’m on my period!…. I don’t want to make a big mess for you to deal with okay.” You huffed out embarrassed at her playful yet lewd antics.

“Yeah! Love bug cuz you love me and you’re always buzzing around me! Like a bug!” Jinx proudly exclaimed her bright idea of a nickname, perhaps a bit too proudly… “And besides! Me?… care about a mess? You’re kidding right?” she looks almost offended but the fact you assumed she wouldn't do this for you.

“Jinx… I just feel gross okay… I don’t really feel super desirable right now.” You sighed placing your face into your hands.

She bangs her fists on the table and jumps up from her seat. “You’re fucking joking right? You’re smoking babe. SMOKING. Like SMOKING HOT! Her arms waved around as she talked to draw out more emphasis to her claim. She lets out a playful scoff “It’s taking every fiber of my being to not pounce on you right now!”

“Jinx… knock it off…” you bit your lip embarrassed and turned away. “I know that isn’t true at all… quit being too nice.”

“Doll…. You’re way too into your own head! I’m saying I wanna bang and you think I’m lyin?” She puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. “No no no we can’t be having that! Doll come here.”

Your expression as you looked at her told Jinx you in fact did not know who to believe. You’re corrupt emotions or your loving girlfriend? Either way you walked to her and stopped till you were in front of her. She quickly cupped your face and pulled you into a deep inviting kiss. Her hands roam softly along your body, gently holding and squeezing every part she loved.

She breaks away from the kiss and looks at you, her voice more serious than you’d like it to be. “Y/N you’re always going to be perfect to me, there’s no way in hell l’d ever be grossed out by you.” She leans in closer and softly leaves kisses along your collar “Besides I wanna love you. I wanna make you feel so crazy good you won’t even remember all your dumb troubles.”

Mel

MEL MEL MEL MEL MEL 😻 fancy rich lady who spoils you

While I do think she’ll still be super busy with work, she’ll most definitely make sure your body is been taken care of.

She lets the chef know your nutritional needs, taking notes you need more iron in your diet.

And when she does come home it’s all kisses, cuddles and praise getting sent your way!

Since she could remember, Mel could take care of just about anything. It didn’t matter if it was a delicate political negotiation or ensuring you felt cared for on your worst days, she had an effortless way of making you feel like the center of her world

The moment she left for the council meeting that morning, you heard her speaking quietly with the private chef, listing off ingredients and dietary adjustments with her usual precision. "She needs more iron," you overheard her say, her voice warm yet firm. "Spinach, lentils, maybe some lean meat. And add something sweet but not too high in sugar content. She deserves to enjoy herself, but make sure it stay healthy for my sake.

Hours later, as you lay curled up on the couch, a warm blanket draped over you, the scent of something savory wafted through the air. The chef had outdone himself, delivering a meal tailored exactly to what your body needed, paired with a small plate of indulgent chocolate covered fruits. It brought a soft smile to your lips. Mel always thought of everything, she always thought of you.

the front door finally opened, the sound of her heels clicking on the marble floor announced her arrival. You craned your neck to look at her, and the moment her golden eyes landed on you, her expression softened.

"There's my love," she murmured, setting her things aside and making a beeline for you.

"Hello darling, long day?" you asked, your voice soft.

"Not anymore," she replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before settling beside you on the couch. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin. "How are you feeling? Did you eat?"

You nodded. "The food was perfect. Thank you for taking care of it."

“Oh? So you heard me did you?”She hummed in satisfaction, pulling you gently into her. Her arms wrapped around you snugly, her fingers trailing softly along your back in soothing patterns. "You've been so strong," she whispered. "But you don't have to be right now. Let me take care of you”

You melted into her embrace, feeling the tension in your body ease as she held you. "You deserve the world," she murmured, her voice full of affection. "And I intend to give it to you, one kiss or gentle word at a time. You will be shown my love”

ERM SO A LINE FROM JAYCE’S PART IS FROM XAVIER’S NEW CARD FROM LOVE AND DEEPSPACE! I recently pulled it and oh my god…. It’s been stuck in my mind…. ANYWAYS HOPE YOU ENJOYED

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny Pt.6

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”

“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.

Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”

“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.

“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”

Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”

“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”

Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”

Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.

“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”

“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”

“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.

They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.

“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.

“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.

“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”

“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”

Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.

“Hey, you live near here, right?”

Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.

“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”

Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.

“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”

Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!

Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”

“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”

Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”

“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”

Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”

Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”

Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”

What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”

“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”

“Uh-huh.”

“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”

Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?

“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”

“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”

Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”

——

Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.

“We’ve done stupider things.”

“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”

“Agreed.”

Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.

Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.

Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.

One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.

Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.

“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.

“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”

“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.

Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”

“No problem.”

Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.

Timsy

[5 nin]

Nin

Nin

Nin

Min

Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Alright.”

Danny texted back an okay.

Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.

“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.

“Damn, bro. You good?”

“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!

“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”

A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.

“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”

“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.

“Sorry…” Tim apologized.

“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”

“Do you really pay taxes?”

Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”

“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.

“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”

Tim stared.

——

“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.

Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.

——

“How did you die?”

Phantom snarled and disappeared.

Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.

“Where’d he go?”

“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.

“What? What did I do?”

“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”

“I didn’t know that!”

“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”

——

Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.

“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.

“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.

Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.

[societyfolklore]

It’s What I’m Here For

Title: It’s What I’m Here For Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Female Reader

Summary:  Deep in the throes of your heat, your body finally gives out- boneless and pliant in your Alpha’s arms. But even in sleep, you still crave him.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Somnophilia, Omegaverse lore, Knotting, breeding kink, Heat, Praise kink, Alpha possessive behaviour, SMUT, Unprotected sex and Fluff.

A/N: my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for April Kinky Bingo. In same ‘verse as Mine. Always (Set earlier in their relationship before the bond) Square: C1 – Somnophilia Card Number: KB003

You had finally gone quiet.

After days wrapped in heat, soaked in scent and pleasure, your body had given out-limp and warm against his chest, thighs still slick, your cunt fluttering weakly in your sleep. You were wrapped around him like you couldn’t bear to let go. The nest was a mess-blankets tangled, pillows kicked down near the floor, everything steeped in your shared scent. The air was thick with it now, heavy and cloying and perfect. It smelled like the two of you: slick and sweat, Alpha and Omega, satisfaction and hunger all at once.

He should have rested. Should have closed his eyes and followed you down into that deep, hazy oblivion. Maybe even gotten up. The snacks you’d hoarded-protein bars and fruit, energy chews and juice pouches-were all the way across the room, tucked in that little basket by the dresser. He’d meant to grab one earlier, maybe coax something into you between rounds. But right now? Sleep mattered more. You were safe and warm.

Later, he told himself. He’d make you eat something later.

But then your hips twitched.

You’d started to squirm a little, even in your sleep-your skin growing hotter again, that flush creeping back into your cheeks and chest. He could feel the heat beginning to rise again, your cycle not quite done with you. And your body knew where the relief was. The way your hips rocked against him, slick already gathering again, it told him everything. Bucky’s nostrils flared, the scent of your arousal dominating once more. It made his head spin-rich and dizzying-and his cock throbbed, swelling hard again with the need to fill you.

Bucky exhaled slowly, eyes tracing the curve of your spine, the shine between your thighs. You made a soft sound-a whimper, barely audible, then murmured something the pathetic little mumbled word falling from lips. 

“...’lpha...”

He tilted his head, trying to see if you were awake. Your eyes were still shut. A lazy smirk spread across his lips-you were just too damn cute like this.

“Even in your dreams, huh?” he whispered, the edge of a growl in his voice. “Still need me. Even now.”

Carefully, reverently, he wrapped his arms around you, shifting just enough to ease you from your position on top of him. You whined softly in protest, a sleepy little fuss as he moved you. But you didn’t wake, not fully-just squirmed and sighed, clinging loosely as he guided you onto your side. He curled around you from behind, his larger frame fitting perfectly against your back,  His flesh arm  tucked under your neck, while his metal one wrapped tightly across your waist, the cooler surface brushing over your skin. 

Once settled, he let his hand drift down, gently spreading your thighs just enough to slot himself between them. Your scent hit him full-force, cloying and sweet and so fucking good. Slick coated your skin, helping him slide between the plush heat until he was nestled right up against you, the sponge tip of him nudging against your clit.. little moans coming out with your breath. 

“Shhh,” he breathed into your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Just me, sweetheart. Just your Alpha.”

Bucky pulled his hips back and adjusted his angle before he slid into you slowly, carefully. There was no resistance-your body welcomed him like it always did, clenching down even in sleep. If Bucky had thought your skin had felt warm, your cunt was a fire-wet, molten heat that wrapped around him and dragged him deeper. It was heaven. It was home. You gasped in your dreams, hips rolling in response, like your body was guiding him exactly where it needed him most.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Good girl. You always take me so good. Can’t even stop, can you?”

You let out another soft sound-his name again, maybe, or just a broken sigh. His heart pounded. His grip tightened.

“Just still so fuckin’ sweet for me. So damn needy like this." 

He kept his pace unhurried, languid, like the motion alone was worship. Instead of resting his forehead to your shoulder, he turned slightly, letting his lips trace the curve of your neck-warm, damp breaths skating over your skin as he breathed you in. Each stroke was measured, careful, meant to soothe more than stir.

But you stirred anyway.

A faint gasp. A shift in your breathing. Your hand twitched over the one he had now pressed to your lower belly. He could feel himself inside you; deep and full, every slow drag pressing your walls apart until you were fluttering again around him.

He groaned, soft and low.

“You’re dreaming of me, huh, baby?” He pressed his mouth to the shell of your ear. “Can feel me in your sleep. So wet, so open. You know who you belong to, don’t you? Fuck, m'always so hard for you, omega-can't help it when you're like this.”

You whimpered. The barest whisper of sound-but it shot straight through him.

“...alph-ah...”

Bucky pressed deeper. Stayed buried. Held you like you were something breakable and sacred all at once.

“Mine. Mine. Mine.”

You gave a soft, whining little noise-barely there but unmistakably needy. Your body bent ever so slightly, hips canting, and Bucky felt the faintest cramp ripple through your muscles, that telltale little clutch of need. Even in your sleep, you were still aching for more. His hand shifted up, palm flat over your heart now, feeling its soft thud under your skin as your breathing quickened again.

“Shhh, let me take care of it,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you. Just feel it, baby.”

He kept fucking you slowly, steady and deep. One hand slid up to pull you tighter against him while the other tilted your chin just enough for his nose to brush over the space where your mating mark would go-right where it should be. He nuzzled there, breathing you in, his lips ghosting across the sensitive spot as he dragged his tongue across it, tasting the salt and warmth of your skin. You whimpered again, hips instinctively pressing back into his, like you were begging for that claim even in sleep.

“Not yet,” he murmured, voice rough and full of restraint. “But soon. Soon, baby.”

You let out the sweetest sound-half moan, half breathy sigh-as his pushed deeper inside you. He groaned, gripping tighter as your body pulsed around him, clenching like you had been waiting for this even in your dreams.

But then… your lashes fluttered. Your breath stuttered. A little frown twitched between your brows.

“Shhh,” he murmured instantly, lips brushing your temple. “It’s okay, ‘mega… I got you.”

Your fingers twitched gripping one of the blankets under you. Your hips tried to shift, confused. Too tired to fight the sensation, too fucked out to process it-but your body still knew, wanted to be on all fours.. 

“Shh, no, no. You don’t gotta wake up, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice so soft it was almost reverent. “You’re tired, I know. Let me do it for you.”

His hand stroked over your belly, warm and heavy. The other cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your lips as he nuzzled in closer.

“I’ll fix the ache. I’ll take care of you. Just let go…”

You whimpered softly, head turning toward his voice-but your eyes stayed closed. Your body eased again, instinctively trusting him. Submitting in sleep, in breath, in bond.

Bucky exhaled, sinking fully into the moment as he held you close. He slowed his hips, adjusting the angle until he was fully buried in you, the tip of his cock pressing right up against your cervix with each lazy rock of his hips. Every movement was deep, indulgent, meant to soothe and satisfy rather than provoke.

“God, Doll,” he murmured, “so warm inside... feels like you’re trying to pull me in even deeper.”

One arm held you tighter while the other grazed up your side again. He leaned in, dragging his lips in a slow, heated trail from your shoulder up to your ear before nuzzling behind it. His nose brushed lower, breathing you in greedily before his tongue followed, lapping at your scent-marked skin like he was trying to taste the bond into existence. He moaned at your taste, at the way your body fluttered around him from just that small stimulation.

“Such a good girl, good ‘mega” he whispered against your neck. “That’s it. Just rest. You’re mine. I got you.”

And as your breathing slowed once more, heart steady under his palm, Bucky kept slowly fucking you, hips rocking in deep, steady motions. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. Not when you were so soft and pliant in his arms, not when you leant bonelessly back into him with every push. Your body clenched around him suddenly, tight and fluttering, and his breath hitched-he felt his knot begin to swell, responding instinctively to your need.

“Oh that’s right, ‘mega,” he groaned, mouth brushing over your jaw. “Let’s get you there... feel that ache, huh? Let me help you. Let me make it better.”

“Gonna cum for me?” he whispered, voice thick with heat. “Even like this, boneless and sweet in my arms… you still want it, don’t you?”

You were his world, the other part of him-and when he got like this, when your scent was thick and your heat was high, you were his obsession. There were times Bucky swore he got drunk on your heat, on the way your body begged for him even when you were barely conscious of it. It made him ravenous. Mindless. Utterly devoted.

“T'take my knot even in your sleep? Gonna squeeze me while I breed you? Make a mess on my cock like you always do, yeah?”

The words seemed to stir something deeper in you. More little sighing moans slipped from your lips, hips moving with his in lazy, desperate rhythm. His needy mate-even too tired to do anything but let him do exactly what you needed.

“‘S what I’m here for, omega,” he murmured, kissing along your neck. “I’ll always take care of you.”

And then you tightened around him again-more insistent, more urgent. Bucky gritted his teeth as your body clenched down hard, and he pushed his hips forward, grinding in deep until the thick swell of his knot forced its way inside.

He buried himself to the hilt, tip kissing your cervix, and his mouth latched onto your shoulder as his knot locked in place. The sharp, possessive growl that rumbled out of him was muffled against your skin as he came-hot, endless spurts of seed flooding into you, spilling deep and thick.

You twitched in your sleep, your body reacting instinctively, a faint cry escaping your lips as your cunt fluttered and pulled around him, milking him even as you slept.

He held you tight, one hand flat over your belly, the other curled around your chest as he breathed through it, both of you pulsing, twitching, bound.

“There we go,” he whispered, voice softening as he began to soothe you. “All better now...”

His hands stroked gently over your sides, slow and comforting, as your body settled around him. The aftershocks faded into a quiet hum, your breath evening out. He felt the tension ease from your limbs, the twitching subsiding as you melted back into the safety of his arms.

This time, he let himself go with you. Wrapped up in the warmth of your nest, knotted deep, your scent still clinging to his skin-he finally closed his eyes.

And slept.

[amdiriel]

lonely pt. 2

Azriel x fem!Archeron!reader

SUMMARY: After a vulnerable moment of comfort, Reader tries to navigate Azriel’s increasingly flirtatious behavior without assuming anything. Because she really shouldn’t. Right?

WARNINGS: FLUFF, slight suggestiveness, a bit of hurt but SO much comfort, not proofread we die like men

NOTE: thanks for so much love on part 1! I have some ideas for new Az fics, so lmk if you're interested in being on my Azriel taglist! xox diri

WORDS: ~4.2k

part 1 main masterlist

•••

It had been about a week and a half since my little breakdown in my room, my cycle coming and going just days after it. I attributed my moment of uncharacteristic hopelessness to hormones.

I hoped Azriel would too, since I had trouble fully looking him in the eye ever since out of embarrassment. After a night of deep rest post-letting-it-all-out, I woke the next morning to a spill of hindsight in my mind, grumbling at my ridiculousness into my pillow. Despite my cycle being a royal pain in my ass, it was a few days where I could hide safely in my room.

So the next few days, I was determined to be fine. I was great, living the dream, no worries here, wielding a grin and a dry joke as always.

The first day after my cycle ending, I wake up to blissful absence of pain in my abdomen, and treat myself to a long bath.

Afterwards, I take advantage of a brisk morning walk, the sunshine making the late winter weather less intolerably cold. I barely get two blocks from the River House before a shadow passes over my head.

I tilt my head back, squinting through the direct sunlight. Then the shadow descends at an alarmingly fast rate and touches down near-silently beside me. “Good morning,” Azriel murmurs.

I jump at his sudden appearance, the bubbling nervousness at his closeness making it more pronounced. “Shit—Azriel,” I gasp, calming myself with a breath. “What the hell?”

He chuckles lowly and nudges me slightly as he matches my resuming pace. “Sorry. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid,” he says, not sorry at all.

I huff and roll my eyes, even as my lips curl up as well. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You need to wear a bell.” His laugh curls around me.

“I’m not sure it would go with my leathers,” he pretends to muse. “A collar would really ruin the effect of my scariness. Not to mention the whole point of being Spymaster.”

I snort, shaking my head. He nudges me again, drawing my gaze back up to him. I find his eyes warmly on me.

“I’m glad to see you out and about,” he says. “I was worried about you.”

I let the sweet words warm me for a quick moment before I huff a small laugh. “It’s my cycle, not sickness. I’m good.”

He shrugs. “Still. I know it’s much worse for you and your sisters now that you’re all fae. You handling them alright?”

My expression softens. “You’re sweet. I’m fine. I didn’t have much pain as a human, so I think as far as fae cycles go, my pain now is relatively mild. I mostly just don’t want to do anything,” I reply with a shrug of my own.

Azriel eyes me for a moment. “Alright. But you’ll let me know if you need anything, right? I haven’t forgotten about our agreement, you know,” he says with a sly smirk.

It takes a second for it to dawn, but soon a blush blooms on my face as I remember that night. I huff a sigh, finding it within me to laugh a little at myself. “So, what, you want me to come to you any time I have a problem?” I ask dryly.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he answers plainly.

I give him a look. “Are you now our resident therapist too?” I deadpan. “Your resume’s long enough, Shadowsinger, you can take a pause every once in a while.”

He laughs again, shaking his head at me. “I may be busy, but never for you. Never for family,” he replies, and with such sincerity in his eyes that my steps falter for a moment.

Fuck. What happened to cool and collected, Archeron?

But I swallow and arch a brow. “Sweet. But you’re barely here enough to be able to do so for the many members of our ever-growing household,” I say, thinking about our nephew Nyx.

He shrugs a shoulder, his wings unfurling then furling in a subtle motion that catches my eye. I’d always found them fascinating. “Then how about this—I’ll never be too busy for you,” he says, a note saucily that my widened eyes turn upon his smirking face.

I grasp for words for a moment, and I see his eyes delight at my moment of hesitation. I shut my mouth and switch tactics, laughing. “Why Az, you are positively Rhys-like today.”

His brows raise, expression lighting in challenge. “Oh am I? Enlighten me, sweetheart.”

I bite hard on the inside of my cheek at that damned pet name again. This male just made it so bloody difficult to be dignified at all. I swear, every moment in his presence is a fight for my life. “You’re all—” I gesticulate over his person, “Swaggering. It’s unnerving. Please, for my sanity, resume your duties as our resident brooder. You’re putting me off.”

His head tilts back with a hearty laugh that startles me into astonishment. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he drawls, suddenly feeling like he’s looming over me.

Stupid, tree-like male.

I don’t reply except for a disbelieving huff at his forward behavior. His smirk is self satisfied as he halts, taking a step back with a sketch of a bow.

“You’ll have to resume your walk without me, Ms. Archeron,” he says, and I wrinkle my nose at the use of my surname. His smiling eyes rove over it, dipping to my lips before locking with my own gaze again. “Think you can manage?”

I scoff and manage to flip him off as his enormous wings unfurl and beat his figure into the air. His rumbling chuckle disappears as his shape grows smaller in the sky.

—

The following days, he wasn’t as blatantly swaggering, as I had called him, but he was…

Forward. Disarmingly so.

I couldn’t seem to avoid his presence if I tried, if merely to kick some sense back into myself. First it was the library—when I had settled into the cozy window seat, my usual perch, an hour into my reading, he had strode in his silent yet confident way of his. I had stilled, as if hoping he’d simply not notice me. Fool. He notices everything. And he certainly had wasted no time sidling up to my perch and leaning over to observe what I was reading. His warmth and masculine scent was a pleasant yet oppressive blanket to my poor sensibilities. And I barely survived when he had hummed “Any good?” practically into my ear.

Or there was lunchtime—I’d wander into the kitchen to make something quick and simple for myself, and when I walked into the dining room he’d be sitting there already, looking up with a small, unassuming smile. When he bade simply, “Sit with me”, I had no choice but to obey and eat with him. In my suspicion, I confess that I switched the times I went to get lunch by random intervals, in which each and every time he either was already there or showed up soon after.

I couldn’t tell if it just happened that way, or if he was being overly clever in his intentional variation.

Now, three weeks post-meltdown incident, Azriel had been gone a few days on Cauldron-knows-what business, so I’d loosened up, no longer bracing myself like he could walk into the room at any second.

Which is apparently my folly, since as soon as I round the corner into the dining room one morning, I found him standing at the sideboard, back toward me, making a cup of tea.

I halted, nearly rearing back as my mouth started to form the word shit, but quickly clamping it down. But even the smallest of noise alerts someone as discerning as him.

He turns and calls my name with quiet warmth, and I banish the wince from my face. “Hey,” I say simply. “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” he says, abandoning his tea to draw near. My head tilts back as he stops in front of me. “How have you been?” he asks with a soft smile.

His quiet care is almost more flustering than his forwardness. “Well. Fine,” I answer. “And you? Your mission or whatever successful?”

He huffs amusedly. “My mission or whatever was just fine,” he replies. Then he returns to the sideboard. “Tea?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Just bla—”

“Just black. I know,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder at me. I blink in surprise, cheeks pink. He’s been paying close enough attention that he knows that?

Of course he has, dummy. He probably has dossiers on everyone in this city with information down to the way they take their tea, the pragmatic voice in my head deadpans. You’re no exception.

I blink again as he draws near with a second cup, passing it to me. I take it with a small thank you, sipping it gratefully.

Just when I start to squirm on my feet at the silence between us, he speaks. “About what we talked about that night a few weeks ago—” I still. “You’re alright in that regard? And don’t lie, I’ll be able to tell.”

I huff a sound between a sigh and laugh, looking down. “Well, I haven’t had a night as bad as that one since then, so that’s good right?” I say with wry self-deprecation. He doesn’t reply. “But really, I’m alright. Just winter blues, I suppose.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

I roll my eyes in a small flash of annoyance. “Alright, not just winter blues. But they certainly don’t help. But I’m fine. Really. You did really help that night,” I admit softly.

I don’t really notice my teacup is empty until he gently takes it from my hand and sets it next to his already abandoned cup. “What helped most, sweetheart?” he asks gently.

My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth—speaking my vulnerability aloud both impossible and foreign. Letting him in last time didn’t hurt. It helped, a small voice whispers in my head.

I take a breath. “Just—talking through it. Physical touch too, um…” I fight to stay steady. “It’s grounding.”

He hums, nodding. There’s a light touch to both my elbows, and my eyes shift down to find that he’d silently reached for me. I allow the touch, but don’t dare go further, suspended in the fear of the unknown.

“You don’t have to be afraid to ask for that,” he murmurs quietly. Suddenly I’m very aware of the air we’re sharing, how close he’s gotten to me. His hands slide slowly to my upper arms, my breath hitching as the warmth of his palms bleed through even my heavy sweater.

The panic sets in before I can think this interaction through, before I can rationalize that maybe, just maybe he wants to be close to me, wants to touch me. Instead my eyes find the clock and seize the subject change before me. “Don’t you have Valkyrie training in five minutes?”

Azriel stills and follows my gaze to the clock. His jaw works once before the fleeting tension is gone. “You’re right. I should go.” He squeezes my upper arms gently before letting his hands drop. “Stay warm today. Wind is supposed to get bad, and temperatures will drop rapidly once the sun sets.”

I nod, giving him a brief smile. “Of course, you too. Stay warm, I mean.”

He returns my smile before leaving the room.

A whoosh of air leaves my lungs as soon as I’m alone again. Idiot. Silly, foolish girl.

—

Azriel was at his wits end.

He’d been pulling far more stops than his usual personality allowed, hadn’t he? She was certainly clever enough to notice that he was acting much differently around her, right? Had he just not been forward enough?

And still, she did not allow him closer, as close as two people could be. He'd given her every sign he could think of without embarrassing himself.

Impossible girl. Can’t you understand that all I want is to comfort and coddle you?

He must not have taken care to erase any tension in his expression by the time he touched down in the ring atop the House of Wind, because Cassian’s brows raised upon seeing him.

Azriel just had to cast him a cool look for his brother to relent, though he caught the half-smirk on the General’s face as he turned toward the group of priestesses warming up and began training.

It was during sparring that Nesta finally deigns to sidle up beside him as he watches a match. “So. What the hell’s going on between you and my sister?”

He stills for just a moment before erasing the reaction. He debates lying to his friend, but she’ll call him on it. He doesn't think she’ll warn him off her sister either, so finally he admits evenly, “Much less than I would like.”

The eldest Archeron huffs a laugh. “I appreciate you sparing me a lie. Honestly, Az? My sister is just supremely oblivious, clever as she is. If nothing else has worked at this point, you just need to lay one on her.”

He chokes and turns his head toward her. “I would never. Not without her express permission—”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Gods, males can be so boring. At the very least you need to sit her down and make sure she doesn’t leave until she understands exactly what your intentions are. Then you can lay one on her, if she’s amenable to it.”

Azriel takes a deep breath, letting the words sink into his turbulent mind. “I don’t want to scare her,” he admits after a pause.

“You won’t,” she replies instantly. “She’s not afraid of you, she never could be. In truth, my sister is scared of very little. But based on the fact that she’s never had a romantic attachment before, what seems like indifference is likely just borne out of nervousness.”

“I don’t want to make her nervous either.”

“It’s not you that does. It’s just—being vulnerable. Emotionally intimate with someone,” Nesta says. “Years of fighting with her have taught me that she’ll hide anything behind biting wit or a laugh and joke. I think that’s what makes it all the more difficult to understand.”

He doesn’t reply.

“But speaking not as her sister, she definitely is attracted to you,” Nesta continues. “Speaking as her sister?” He looks at her cool features. “Don’t fuck it up.” Then she stalks away to Gwyn and Emerie.

Azriel forces down a growl. Tonight. He'd do it tonight or hell, he'd go crazy from this dance around the line. He'd spent too many centuries wanting this, wanting companionship for him to squander an opportunity with, at last, a female that he connected so deeply with. A female that seemed to need his touch as badly as he needed hers.

So...yes. He'd had quite enough of waiting.

—

True to Azriel's word, it did end up being very cold today.

I forgo any ideas of taking a walk, but I did end up camping out in the warmth of Feyre's study, taking turns with her to organize some of her paperwork or play with Nyx on the floor. My nephew (and his poor parents) had had some rough nights due to the last dregs of his teething pain, but it was good to see him smiling and playing despite it all. Rhysand stopped in frequently, unable to stay from his mate and son for extended periods of time, and after the fourth time Feyre shooed him out with their laughing, squirming son in his arms.

Our bi-weekly dinner fell that evening. Usually I enjoyed it.

Usually.

The dinner was fine. But I was so chilled that I took the opportunity of warmth from any hot dish passed around to me. I shiver for the upteenth time as Azriel passes me the potatoes.

"Cold?" he murmurs close beside me, and I shiver again. Not from the cold, damn him.

"Freezing," I retort instead, scooping potatoes on my plate. "Doesn't Rhys have this place warded to hell? Why is it so drafty?"

Azriel chuckles lowly. "How do you know that it isn't just you?" he teases.

I shoot him a look. "No, no, Mr. 'Stay Warm Today', I'm quite certain it isn't."

He laughs again, and it warms me only temporarily. I finish before everyone else, per usual. Not only do I tend to eat fast, but I'm also not caught up in constant conversation. Bored, my eyes travel the room, around my friends. My family. Even in my relaxed, two-glasses-of-wine haze, my mind doesn't fail to notice how paired up they all seem to have gotten.

Feyre and Rhys feed a fussy Nyx in his highchair, Rhys's eyes roaming over his mate and child with unrepressed love. Cassian's arm was slung around Nesta's shoulder, my usually stoic sister slumped comfortably into his side. Varian looked down at Amren next to him like she was the most fascinating creature alive, which...wasn't entirely a subjective statement, considering her interesting history.

Even Elain was speaking in shy tones with Lucien, who watched her with amused adoration. I had been so proud of my younger sister for finally realizing that she could just as well choose him as not choose him. They were taking it slow, she'd been telling me recently, but she begrudgingly had found that her mate was, indeed, her perfect match.

But as with all my friends and family, my happiness for them comes at a cost. To myself.

I turn and opened my mouth to chase away the tightness in my chest, but found that the Spymaster next to me was turned away, engaging Mor in conversation on his other side.

I quickly clamp my mouth shut and instead go for my wine.

Gods, hadn't Feyre mentioned there was some sort of will-they won't-they situation between the two of them? Something that had been brewing for the five centuries they'd known each other? It was none of my business, of course, and I hardly paid attention, but even I noticed that it had been pretty consistently they-won't in the past few years of living here.

Right?

Azriel laughs at something she says, and suddenly I feel sick.

Cauldron. Was I going to be the only one left?

And even worse—had I also been imagining his forwardness with me as of late?

There's a rushing in my ears and I tune out completely, going blissfully blank.

I hardly recall cleanup. Or the migration to the living room. My body seems to draw itself to the fireplace, a hand lifting to drag a blanket off the back of an armchair as I settle on the floor before the flames.

And as I wrap the blanket around myself, shivering minutely, I can't bring myself to look at what I know I'll find behind me—each couple in the house cuddling for warmth.

—

Azriel's heart aches at the sight of her vibrating form in front of the fire.

He'd taken his place behind the armchair she usually sat in, hoping to finally coax her into having a conversation in the privacy of the hall. Or if things went well, his bedroom.

But instead he watched her walk as if unawake from the dining room to the fireplace in the living room. Unblinking. Not looking at anyone else.

He doesn't know what to do.

He also doesn't realize that a shadow had flitted to her until it came slinking back to his shoulder, whispering, Upset. Crying.

His heart broke. Oh, sweetheart.

He felt suspended in air, in time for a moment. Everyone was lounging, cuddling in their respective pairs, speaking quietly with one another. Distracted. So he took a gamble.

And silently pushed forward.

—

I felt him before I heard or saw him.

I lock up as I feel his warm body settle on the rug, not quite directly behind me, but not quite beside me either.

His touch was warm, intentional.

Mother, I needed intentional touch so badly.

I hadn't realize how upset I had gotten until the first cold tear spills down my cheek. I wipe hastily at it.

"Hey," he coos softly in my ear, his arm coming firmly around me and drawing me into him. I sniff, shooting a panicked glance over my shoulder since everyone was in the room right now. I barely register that his wings block any sight of the two of us from the rest of the room before his gentle hand guides my chin back to look up at him. "No one can see, sweet girl," he murmurs. "You're alright."

The lump tightens painfully in my throat as a second, third tear spill down my face. "Sorry," I mouth, unable to get any sound out.

"Stop," he whispers gently. "You're alright. You're safe." His hand slides to the back of my head and I let myself be guided to the shelter of his embrace, once again in his lap as I silently shake. "Are you feeling that way again?"

I nod silently.

He sighs. "Sweetheart. Why don't you just let me in?"

I untuck my wet face from his shoulder to glance confusedly up at him. "I...I am," I breathe. "You're—you're hugging me."

He shakes his head, cradling my face with both hands. "I mean: why don't you let me into that head of yours? That world? Most importantly, why can't you just let me into your heart?"

Said heart seems to stutter and stop beating.

There's a long moment where my lips don't form words, don't do anything except lay parted, slack. "What do you mean?" I finally blurt, a note of tightness in my voice.

His jaw works and he sighs heavily through his nose. "Sweetheart, is it so impossible to understand that this whole time you've found yourself lonely at the sight of everyone paired off that maybe I want to be that person for you? Your person?"

"Wh—you?" I sputter on a whisper as everything dawns, hell, practically crashes down upon me. The denial comes a split second after. "No."

"Yes."

My expression shutters in emotion. "There's no way—"

"There is," he murmurs with an adoring smile on his handsome face, thumbs brushing at my tears. "And you can't change that, ever. But what you can do is let me in."

I take a shuddery breath, in and out. "Let you in?"

He nods.

"Be my person?" I croak. "And I be yours?"

The words seem to have an effect on him, his chest puffing for a moment before deflating again. His hands cradle my face like I'm precious. I've never felt more so than in his lap. "Yes, sweet girl. Mine. And I, yours."

A release another uneven breath, feeling my body go warm all over. "I—I never thought that I...that you could want this with me. Could want me," I rasp.

He smiles. "But I do. I have for a long time."

I let out a little wet laugh. "Gods, I—" I shake my head. "I don't feel like asking questions right now. I've wanted you too, for so long. I just didn't want to delude myself, to make a fool of myself in front of you when you're so..."

He raises a brow but his eyes remain warm. "So?"

"So perfect, damn you," I finish, no real malice behind my words. When he laughs this time, I feel it seep directly through my chest and into my soul.

"You're the perfect one, sweetheart," he murmurs, and presses a kiss to my hairline like he had those weeks ago. "In more ways than one." He draws back to look at me, and I return his gaze with nothing but openness, with love. Then he breathes, "May I kiss you?"

Heat blooms across my cheeks, but I give him a little nod. "You may."

He dips his chin ever so slowly, and when his soft, full lips finally meet mine, my eyes slip shut. Tentative, and so gentle with me, he dares his tongue over my bottom lip. Though I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, I let him through.

The first swipe of his tongue, this hungrier kiss sets my soul ablaze, his hands travel to wrap around my waist, drawing my chest against his.

We kiss quietly yet needy for Cauldron knows how long. All I know is that I’m breathless, fuzzy, and light by the time I draw away softly. He chases my lips a moment more before settling his forehead against mine.

Breathing the same air.

A giddy smile tugs at my features, and I giggle with blushing embarrassment. “They definitely know what’s going on,” I whisper, fighting the urge to peek. He chuckles lowly and draws me closer, depositing a kiss on my shoulder, my jaw, then my lips.

“I sent them out,” he replies. My brows raise. “I told Rhys mind-to-mind that if he didn’t get everyone out, I’d quit.”

A laugh bubbles up within me. “Liar. He just decided to have mercy on us. On me, at least.”

Azriel grins, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Boyish. Free.

“Kiss me again,” I whisper. And he does.

That night, he takes me to his room, scooping me under the covers and into his body. I’m too wired, too happy to fall asleep right away. It’s when I watch him slip into dreamland, the most relaxed I’ve seen him, that there’s a tug within my chest.

A soft glow flickers to life deep in my soul. I smile and let the tears fall as I feel what I think is the bond.

I settle in. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

•••

NOTE: i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing it! i have an idea for a short series taking place post-ACOSF, where Reader is part of a group in Montesere that’s sort of adjacent to the Valkyries, and she comes to visit the Library, so I’ll start drafting if anyone is interested k love you bye! -diri

TAG LIST: @lilah-asteria @salvatoresister1 @a-courtof-azriel @thestartitaness @casiiopea2 @kk191327 @missxmarvelous @saltedcoffeescotch

[eclipseslayer]

SIT. DRINK.

➭ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

➭ SUMMARY: Your dad calls you over to sit in front of him, and he orders you to finish off his beer. Enthused with your obedience, he takes advantage of that.

➭ CW: DARK CONTENT. Incest, forced drinking, cockwarming, deep throating, Toji is meanish, Toji calls you 'kid' and 'sweetheart'.

➭ WC: 1.5kish

➭ A/N: Hello! I've done a drabble with icky!dad!Toji before, and honestly I really like doing them... so I'm wondering if I should make a series/compilation or something with icky!dad!Toji?? 👀 lmk in the comments or my ask box!! :) N e wayz enjoyyy.

"Come 'ere. Sit."

Toji points at the floor in front of him with his beer bottle, and you look up from your book you're reading.

Your eyes widen and you swallow thickly, knowing your dad wants something. It always puts a little fear in you, because your dad is disgusting. He's a grumpy, divorced, old man who got stuck with some kid out of wedlock, who happened to be you, so now he treats you like some sort of object, something to be used.

As much as you loathe him for it, a part of you actually loves it, though you don't think you'd ever admit that to yourself, at least, not out loud.

You close your book, and you get up. You slowly walk over to him, carpet brushing against the soles of your feet as you drag them, trying to take your time as you walk over to the old man.

Toji sees you taking your sweet time and he scoffs. He points to the floor again, and his beer sloshes in his bottle.

"I said, sit," his tone is harsher this time, almost spitting out his words.

With a huff, you nod and you pick up your pace. You then plop yourself onto your knees in front of your dad, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, already knowing what he wants.

He leans back against the couch to get a good view of you. A wry grin appears etched onto his face as that scar of his quirks up, and those green eyes of his darken while a drunken gaze drinks in the sight of you.

His gaze makes you nervous, as you hardly ever know what he wants from you. You know you're here to be used, but you just don't know how, and that's what makes you so nervous. His jade eyes always make your heart thump in your chest as they always have something conniving cooking.

Suddenly, he thrusts his bottle out to you and he presses the glass opening of it against your lips. You blink quickly as you catch a quick whiff of the beer—cheap, and wheaty—and look back up at him.

"Drink. Finish this off for me."

"I—" You're about to try to defend yourself, as you're not looking to drink tonight, but your dad tuts, shaking his head disapprovingly. He reaches out and grips the root of your hair with his free hand and pushes your mouth against the tip of the glass bottle, forcing it into your mouth.

"I said, drink. Jesus, are you having a hard time hearing me tonight?" He mutters, and his words slur, clearly drunk.

You let out a whine and a grumble and you tilt your head back, allowing for the liquid to pour into your throat. There's about a half of the bottle left, so Toji makes you chug it, and he watches with narrowed as eyes as you drink.

"There we go... good girl..."

Fuck. You hated it when he praised you. He only praised you whenever you did his "evil" bidding, which is why you didn't mind doing it so much. You loved the praise, and he knew it, which is why you're so obedient to him. It's a constant cycle of you needing praise, and receiving it after you do something for him, and, you couldn't get enough. Sometimes, some of the things he made you do felt so good that you truly hadn't minded at all.

It was toxic, but... you honestly couldn't get enough of it, which is also why you hadn't moved out of the house yet.

His praise was addicting.

Once you finish the beer, your mouth leaves the bottle with a satisfying pop, and Toji hums. He runs a hand through your hair and sighs as he places the empty bottle with the rest of them, on the stand next to the couch.

He pats your face with a large, calloused hand and sighs, leaning against the couch again. His large frame takes up the majority of it, and his thick long legs are spread out in a man-spread.

He reaches down into his pants and you hear the faint sound of scratching. He yawns, looking at the TV briefly before turning his head back to you. You look at him, awaiting further instructions, and he chuckles, and you assume another idea has popped into his head.

"You got an oral fixation, right, sweetheart?" He slurs, and, honestly doesn't care if you do or not as he starts pulling down his sweatpants, the hem of them fits around his thighs so well.

"I... yes, I do," you reply, watching him as he now takes his hand and slides down his underwear around his thighs, as he reveals his, big, hard cock, sitting heavily on his stomach.

Toji raises an eyebrow and he hiccups. He nods and sighs. "That's right... I knew ya did, kid. I know you like suckin' on my dick, but you just don't wanna admit it, right?" He grins, and he watches as you shift on your knees, your gaze averting his. His grin widens.

"Ah, knew it," he sighs, and he leans forward with his cock in one hand, and presses the tip against your mouth, and, so willingly, you open it up for him, accepting him into your mouth.

He groans once he feels your warm, wet mouth, and he closes his eyes, leaning his head back. He takes a minute before he looks down at you.

"Just keep your mouth like this for me while I watch TV. I'll get you a fuckin' candy bar or somethin' if you suck me off," he chuckles, and you furrow your eyebrows because he still treats you like a little kid, rewarding you with dumb shit.

Nevertheless, you sigh, accepting this as you keep him in your mouth. Not like you're going to complain anyway. This was one of your favorite things to do for your dad, simply because it just felt so good to have something so thick fill up your mouth.

So, you sit for awhile as he leans back against the couch, watching TV. You don't move your mouth—just enjoying how good he feels—for about ten minutes until you feel your jaw start to hurt.

That's when you start moving your head, pushing your mouth all the way to his pelvis, and then pulling back until you're suckling on his tip.

Toji groans at this and turns his head back to you. He sighs, and he grips your hair, and begins guiding your wet mouth along his cock.

He revels in the feeling of your mouth, enjoying how tight and warm it gets when you hallow your cheeks, and when you do that little thing with your tongue.

His head leans back, looking down at you as he admires how good you look, sucking on his cock. Sure, it was wrong, but that was why he drank, to get the mental block out of his head so he could easily get his dick wet. You were never one to say no. Hell, he wasn't sure why you were so easy, but he wasn't going to knock the opportunity.

You, on the other hand, are having such a good time as you moan softly on his cock, loving the feeling of how good he feels in your mouth. He feels so good that you're drooling on his cock, making a mess of it all over his length. You soon add your hand to the mix, pumping the length of his shaft while your mouth drools all over the tip, licking and sucking so fervently that it has Toji cursing under his breath.

"Shit, kid, fuck, your mouth does such a good job..." He groans and a big hand grips your hair tightly once more, guiding you along his cock, except, he decides to cruelly change the pace up, making it so his cock hits the back of your throat.

You let out a gag in surprise, your eyes widening and your hands quickly move to grip his thighs. His thick cock bullies into the back of your throat as you let out choked moans.

Saliva coats his dick, and drips down to his balls as you're uncontrollably salivating all over him, simply because that big tip of his bruises the back of your throat, allowing for no control over your mouth.

He groans with almost every thrust, and his breath gets heavy. He chuckles as he sees you struggle to take him, your hands gripping his thighs so tightly that he finds it so hilarious as he lets out yet another mean chuckle.

"That's right... gonna cum in this mouth, yeah? How's that for ya?" He grins wickedly, and, with one, two, three more thrusts, he slams your nose against his pelvis, leaving you choking on his dick as his cum suddenly spurts into your mouth. Load after load fills your throat, and you swallow it quickly.

Your nose scrunches up at the taste, as it damn near tastes like battery acid from the amount of beer he just had. You want to choke it up, but you know better, and so you swallow each spurt of cum until he rips his cock out of your throat.

He watches with a satisfied gaze as you choke for air, leaning over his thighs.

"Good girl." He reaches down into his pants pocket and fishes out a couple yen bills. "Go buy a candy bar at the corner store or somethin'. I don't fuckin' know."

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Six

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, still quite angsty (sry), strong language.

Notes — Lots of plot, we're closing out the 2019 year in this one! Not much Lando in this one (Im still mad at him). This gets crazy. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2019

Two weeks after Spa, Amelia stood outside her dad’s office at the MTC with a manila file in her hands and the taste of copper in her mouth.

The door was open, but she still knocked.

Zak looked up, startled, like he wasn’t used to seeing her there anymore — and maybe he wasn’t. She’d stayed away from the MTC for the past few weeks.

“Hey,” he said, getting up too quickly. “You want to come in?”

She stepped inside, cringing when her new trainers squeaked against the floor. Her arms were stiff from holding the file too tight. “Brought you something,” she said, and handed it over. No eye contact. She stared at a plaque on his shelf instead — a dusty one from 2007, still etched with a podium that felt like another lifetime.

Zak took the file and sat back down behind his desk. “You put this together?”

She nodded once. “It’s just data. Analysis. Trends.”

He opened the folder and started flipping through, slower than she wanted, be he was a much slower reader than she was. Pages of her notes, charts, predictive modelling, comparative pace metrics, aero versus power unit deltas from the season so far. Even some basic projections based on engine supplier performance curves over the last six years.

He hesitated, eyes scanning the pages. “What is this, Amelia?”

“McLaren’s had a better season,” she said, not bothering to hide the way her nose scrunched. “You’ll probably finish fourth in the Constructors’. Best of the rest. Everyone is going to be very happy.”

He looked up at her, sensing the ‘but’ before she even said it.

“I am not,” she said. “I don’t think we should be happy with fourth. I think we should be aiming for much higher.”

Zak leaned back slightly in his chair, file still open in front of him. “Amelia…”

“I think we should drop Renault after next season,” she said, cutting him off.

He blinked. “Jesus,” he muttered. “That’s a big swing.”

“I’ve run the numbers,” she said, a little sharper now. “Reliability. Raw power. Upgrade cycles. Driver feedback. Even manufacturer investment in long-term hybrid development. Renault is… not consistent, and they’re not progressing fast enough. Mercedes is more efficient, more stable, more scalable. If we want consistent podiums, a chance at race wins, then we need to align with a manufacturer that knows how to win. Not just how to score points.”

Zak sat back again, slower this time, like the weight of the idea was physically pressing into him. He tapped the edge of the file absently with his fingers.

“You know how much this would rock the boat, right?” he said. “We’ve spent years building this partnership. Renault’s got skin in the game. Contracts. Commitments. There’ll be consequences if we walk away.”

“I know,” she said. “But you always said we should act like a front-running team, even when we weren’t. So act like one. Make a decision like one.”

Zak was quiet. Still.

“I started working on this after Hockenheim,” she added, voice lower now. “I just… didn’t show anyone.”

He closed the file. “This isn’t a light suggestion, Amelia.” He sighed. 

“I know,” she said again. “But I think it’s the right one.”

He exhaled slowly and rubbed a hand across his mouth, then looked at her; really looked at her.

She was calmer than she’d been the last time they’d spoken. Still paler than usual, still guarded, but steadier somehow. Like something had hardened and solidified inside her in the silence of the past few weeks.

“I’ll take it to the board,” he said finally. “Quietly. Just to test the water. No promises.”

“Okay,” she said.

There was a beat. She stared at the paperweight on his desk, the one she’d bought him for Father’s Day when she was thirteen.

“I just want us to stop being afraid of wanting more,” she added, softer now. “That’s all.”

Zak didn’t respond right away.

And as she turned to go, hand already on the doorframe, he couldn’t help but ask, “You didn’t just do this for him, did you?”

She paused. “No,” she said. “I did it for the team. I did it for you.”

She walked out. 

— 

The press release dropped on a Thursday.

A neatly timed, efficiently worded, professionally curated announcement: McLaren Racing to become Mercedes-AMG Powertrain customer team from 2021 onwards.

Quotes from her dad. From Toto. From Andreas.

A photo of a handshake she wasn’t in.

No mention of the folder. No mention of the analysis. No mention of her. 

Of course there wasn’t. She hadn’t expected it.

Not really.

And yet she sat at her desk, surrounded by pages and pages of sketches of cooling architecture redesigns, and felt… strange.

Not angry. Not exactly.

Not proud either.

Mostly just quiet.

She clicked out of the article. Closed her browser. Opened a new tab, then immediately forgot why.

When she'd handed her dad the folder two weeks ago, it hadn’t even been about recognition. She hadn’t cared about credit. She’d just wanted them to be better. To try harder. To take a worthwhile risk. 

And when he’d said, I’ll take it to the board, she’d believed him.

She just didn’t think that would be the end of it.

He hadn’t spoken to her about it since. No follow-up. No texts. No update. No “you were right.” Not even a half-hearted thank-you over dinner or a passing “good job” in the hallway.

The decision had come. And it had come without her.

Which made sense. She wasn’t a department head. She wasn’t on the executive team. She didn’t even have an official job title.

She wasn’t owed anything.

But still… still, she sat there with her heart lodged high in her throat and her fingernails digging crescents into the seam of her jeans, wondering why she suddenly felt like a ghost.

Why it felt like this was supposed to mean something.

And why it hurt so much to realise that her dad was okay with taking her work, her time, her thinking, the thing she’d built, and not giving her even a whisper of recognition.

Because he was used to it.

Used to her just handing things over for free.

And the worst part was, he wasn’t the only one.

She’d been doing this for years, hadn’t she? Offering up all the sharpest pieces of herself like they were scraps. Little theories, little fixes, the way she could spot patterns no one else could, pick through race data like thread. Suggestions left on the kitchen counter, ideas floated during test weekends, whispers passed to engineers when no one else was listening. Quiet contributions, all of them. Invisible fingerprints.

She’d given it away. All of it. Every clever thought, every hard-earned observation; just laid it down, like it didn’t belong to her in the first place.

And now someone else got the credit. Again. And she wasn’t even surprised.

She was just tired. And quietly furious.

— 

The house smelled like woodsmoke and dog shampoo. Roscoe was already halfway into Amelia’s lap, snoring, his head heavy against her stomach as Lewis slid a mug of tea across the coffee table.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said, settling into the armchair across from her. “He’ll try and sleep there all day.”

“I won’t complain about that,” she murmured, scratching behind Roscoe’s ears. He was a big dog, solid and heavy. He felt a bit like her weighted blanket. Anchoring. 

Outside the windows, snow clung to the corners of Lewis’ sprawling. Quiet. Still. The way winter was meant to be. Amelia pulled her sleeves down over her hands and stared at the steaming mug.

Lewis leaned back, watching her over the rim of his cup. “You keeping up with the silly season chaos this year?”

“As always.” She nodded. 

“Gasly back to AlphaTauri, Hulkenberg out, Ocon sliding into Renault. There will be a bit of a bloodbath next year.” He said. 

She nodded, though her mind was elsewhere.

Lewis gave her a second longer before asking, “What about Lando? You two—”

“I don’t want to talk about Lando,” she said quickly, too quickly. Her eyes stayed on Roscoe’s fur.

Lewis didn’t press. He just leaned forward, brows faintly furrowed. “Right. Okay.” 

They let the silence settle again. Roscoe shifted in his sleep, his paws twitching as if chasing something through a dream. Then, quietly, Amelia spoke. “The Mercedes-McLaren deal,” she said, voice low. “That was mine.”

Lewis blinked, gave himself a second to repeat her words in his head, and then said. “What?”

“McLaren dropping Renault, becoming a Mercedes customer team.” She rubbed a thumb over Roscoe’s collar. “I ran all the projections. Power unit deltas, reliability, development pace, all of it. I put together the entire case. Handed it to my dad in a file. And two weeks later, they made the announcement.”

Lewis stared at her. “You’re serious?”

She nodded, swallowing. “No one said anything. Not to me. And I wasn’t… part of the meeting, or the rollout. He never even followed up. I just saw it in the press release like everyone else.” Her voice wavered, but didn’t break. “And I know I don’t work for McLaren. But I thought; I thought maybe it would mean something.” 

Lewis’s jaw twitched and his eyes looked darker than they usually did. “Amelia. That… that’s a big deal, you know that? That was your intellectual property.” 

“I know.” She hugged her arms tight around herself. “It just… it feels wrong to be angry. Like I should’ve known better. Like it’s my fault for not asking for anything in return. For just giving it away.”

“That’s not on you,” Lewis said, voice hardening. “That’s on him. Your dad. And on the team. They’ve taken advantage of you. You should get credit. You should get a bloody job offer and a signing bonus. Not… whatever the fuck this is.” 

She sniffed. “I don’t have a degree.”

Lewis scoffed. “So what? Since when does a piece of paper mean more than years of proven genius?”

That made her pause.

“You are one of the sharpest minds I’ve seen in this sport,” he said. “And I’ve been in it a long time. You see things before they happen. You think ahead of the curve. That’s what teams dream of having. And if McLaren can’t see that, if your own dad can’t see that, it’s not because it’s not there. It’s because he doesn’t know how to recognise it in you.”

She nodded. She already knew exactly what the problem was. “He doesn’t know how to see me as anything but his daughter.”

“Toto does,” Lewis said. “And that offer is still on the table, by the way.” 

Amelia looked away, cheeks flushing. 

“I’m not trying to pressure you. I just want you to know that you’ve got options,” Lewis said, softer now. “Real ones. And you don’t have to keep waiting around for your dad to finally recognise your potential.” 

She didn’t answer, but her hands were steady on Roscoe’s back now. And when she finally did glance at him, there was something a little sharp in her chest. Something that felt a lot like clarity.

— 

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2019 F1 Grid

Lewis H. @Lando You are an absolute prick.

Sebastian V. Good morning to you too?

Daniel R. Shit. What’d he do this time?

Charles L. Ah, this does not seem good.

Lando N. what the fuck did i do

Lewis H. You ghosted her. Like a child.

Carlos S. What??????????

George R. Wait are you serious?

Lewis H. Dead serious.

Lando N. oh my god can you not it’s literally none of your business ok

Max V. You’re an idiot, Norris.

Pierre G. Landooooo bro.

Alex A. Yeah nah that’s rough. You ghosted her? I actually thought you liked her, man.

Daniel R. She was so nice. Bet she feels like shit now.

Sebastian V. Is she okay? @Lewis

Lewis H. She’s fine. Too good for him anyway.

George R. I can’t believe this. Didn’t he literally write his racing number on her shoes? Or was that a fever dream??

Max V. @George He did. He’s just a right dickhead.

Carlos S. 😐 Told you not to screw it up, @Lando

Lando N. ok fucksake i get it You can all stop now i already feel like a piece of shit

Charles L. Why would you ghost her when she is so pretty and smart? I do not understand.

Daniel R. He’s still a kid. Dumb as hell. He’ll regret it in a few months, trust me.

Lewis H. He should be regretting it already.

Max V. Extremely dumb move. I wouldn’t have ghosted her and I’m famously difficult.

Sebastian V. Maybe I will set her up with my younger brother. He’s very clever. And rich.

George R. Is it weird if I throw my uncle’s name in the hat? He’s only 24. Really lovely guy.

Carlos S. My cousin Carlo is already in love. He will be thrilled to know she’s single.

Lando N. fuck off i get it I’m the villain Jesus christ can we drop it now

Daniel R. Glad you’re finally on the same page, mate!

Alex A. You could’ve just talked to her. Didn’t need to ghost her. That was cold, man.

Kimi R. 👍

— 

Interlagos was hot and loud and humming with tension, and Amelia made sure to stay pressed to the edges of it; a shadow against the garage walls, an expressionless face hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses.

It was her first time at any track since before Belgium. Her first time being in the same place as Lando since he’d decided that she was not worth knowing. And she was careful. Careful to keep to service corridors and briefing rooms, careful not to risk running into him. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she looked did. 

Nothing, probably. He would just ignore her, like he had been for two months. 

She had just slipped away from the hospitality bar, iced-coffee in hand, when a voice called out to her from the outside deck; warm, accented.

“Chica! Are you too busy to stop and talk with a very ignorant old man?”

She turned and found Carlos Sainz Sr. waving her over, a bottle of water in one hand and a wary smile on his sun-worn face.

“I was just—” she started, but he was already rising from his seat, gesturing for her to come join him. 

“Come, come. Sit. I have good seats here.”

She hesitated for a breath, then nodded and climbed the short steps up to the guest viewing area. The chaos of pit lane sprawled out below. Mechanics scrambled. Tyres stacked like soldiers. Race engines sang in the background, vicious and alive.

“Gracias,” she murmured, sliding into the chair beside him.

He nodded, then stared at her for a long, quiet second. “I wanted to say,” he said, his English thick with Madrid roots, but kind. “I think that… earlier in the year, I judged you too quickly.”

Amelia frowned at him. “Yes, you did.”

He sighed and nodded. “I assumed that you were just a pretty girl in the paddock.” He said. “And you see, my son has a terrible habit of becoming fixated on pretty things. But I realise now that I was wrong. You were there to, eh, help. To fix.” He sounded worn, like he’d had to work hard to say that out loud. 

She shrugged, staring out at the grandstands. They were full. “I was upset about it, I think. But it was not a big deal.”

“It was,” Carlos said, serious now. “It was a very big deal. My son made that clear to me. You are very clever. A real asset to the McLaren team.” He told her, firm and steady. 

She didn’t have anything to say to that. Just gave him a tight, (hopefully) polite smile and turned her eyes to the pit-lane as the cars peeled out of the garage to line up on the grid.

The race was long, and she stayed on the balcony throughout it all. Heat shimmered off the asphalt. Pit strategies flexed and fractured as the laps ticked down, and through it all, Amelia sat with her hands still in her lap, her mind sharper than the TV graphics overhead.

And when Carlos Sainz, the younger one, made it to third after a messy, brilliant final few laps, when the checkered flag waved and the paddock exploded into cheers and disbelief, she turned to his father and smiled, truly smiled, for the first time all day.

“Felicidades,” she said, voice soft but real. “That was very well done.”

Carlos Sr. beamed, pride etched into every line of his face. He stood up quickly, hurrying down to find his son and the rest of the team.

Amelia stayed.

The viewing deck emptied fast. Celebration echoed below. But she just slipped back into the motorhome, past the catering crew and out of the line of sight, into a quiet alcove near the storage lockers where no one would think to look for her.

She sat down on the floor, pressed her back against the cool wall, and closed her eyes.

She was proud. Of Carlos. Of the car she had helped make faster. Of the whisper of her fingerprints across the strategy that had put him on the podium.

But the truth still sat heavy on her ribs; that it had all happened without her. That even here, even now, she felt like a ghost.

— 

The paddock at night after a race was one of her favourite places in the world. Empty water bottles clattered in the wind, discarded tyre blankets lay forgotten in corners, and the once-buzzing garages now hummed low and tired beneath the fluorescent lights. Amelia walked slowly, hands in her pockets, trainers scuffing against the tarmac, the cool Brazilian evening pulling the heat from her skin.

She passed the Mercedes motorhome, its sleek black exterior reflecting the dim light. Through the tinted glass, she caught a glimpse of Toto Wolff, head bent in conversation with one of his engineers. Calm. Assured. In control.

She didn’t stop walking, but something in her twisted. Guilt, maybe. Or the quiet ache of uncertainty.

Red Bull had been circling for a while. Quiet at first; emails she half-dismissed, a few engineers asking her strangely specific questions, casual feelers through people she didn’t realise even knew her name. Then Christian on Dutch TV, mentioning her potential. Helmut at COTA, watching her from the edge of the pit wall like a cowboy evaluating livestock. And Adrian Newey, who bypassed all of them and emailed her directly in early November. Short. Direct. Complimentary in a way that didn’t feel rehearsed.

She hadn’t told her dad. Not yet.

Nothing was official, anyway.

“Brown,” came a voice behind her.

She turned, blinking as Max strode over from the Red Bull suite. His jacket was unzipped, and he still reeked faintly of champagne. Hair a bit damp. Grin lazy.

“Christian asked me to make sure you knew where to go,” he said, lifting his brows. “You’ve got ten minutes before Jos starts vibrating.”

She pulled a face. “Is everyone going to be there? Like… your dad is going to be there?”

“Obviously. It’s Red Bull. We are very theatric,” he said, deadpan. “Zusje, you are the most in-demand person in Formula 1 right now, of course everybody wants to be in the room when we finally win the battle for your brain.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t call me that. Zusje. I don’t know what it means.”

“Little sister,” he said, Dutch accent thick, shrugging as he fell into step beside her. “It suits you. You talk just as much as I do, and you are equally annoying as me. We will give Christian many headaches, I think.”

“I always carry ibuprofen in my handbag.” She tried to joke, but it came out flat. 

Max looked at her for a moment, but then he grinned, so she imagined he must have thought her joke was funny. At least somewhat. “Adrian’s been trying to steal you since Canada.” He told her. 

She sighed. “That explains the espresso machine he sent to me during the summer break. I was very confused.”

He gave her a look. “You kept it?” He asked curiously. 

She nodded. “It is a good machine. Expensive.”

“Of course it was. It’s Adrian.” Max shrugged. 

They stopped a few feet from the Red Bull motorhome, which buzzed under the night lights like it was wired into a different voltage. Something kinetic hung in the air; possibility, maybe. Restlessness. Momentum.

She stared. “This feels like betrayal.”

Max rolled his eyes. “It is not betrayal.”

He nudged her shoulder. She recoiled, glaring at him. He raised his hands in defence. “Sorry. Sorry.” Then, quieter, he said. “You’ve outgrown the shadows, zusje. It is not your fault that your dad doesn’t know what to do with you. But we do. Adrian does. Christian definitely does. You belong somewhere that doesn’t try to keep you small.” 

She started to chew on her bottom lip anxiously, “Do you really think that I am worth all of this?”

He didn’t even blink. “I think you’re going to make me a world champion, Amelia Brown.”

— 

The Yas Marina Circuit gleamed beneath the Abu Dhabi sun, all smooth marble floors and overly modern hospitality suites. It felt more like a luxury mall than a racetrack, but Amelia liked it. Everything was polished, controlled. 

She slipped through the back corridors of the McLaren unit with practiced ease, unnoticed as usual. It was early, quiet, the calm before the chaos of FP1.

In Carlos’s driver room, she placed a neatly bound packet on the table beneath the television. His telemetry from the entire season, annotated and colour-coded: green for improvements, yellow for repeat tendencies, red for danger zones. She’d included braking inconsistencies, corner exit deltas, and fuel load trends, with suggestions tailored to the 2020 chassis.

He’d get it. He always did. Carlos read data like scripture.

In Lando’s room, she left the same. A different binder. Different tendencies. More throttle hesitation in traffic, sharper degradation when chasing, lapses in tire preservation across high-deg circuits. A note in the front, written in her smallest, sharpest handwriting.

You are an asshole. You are also better than your instincts. Learn the difference between fast and frantic. Good luck.

She didn’t linger. She didn’t need to. No one would know she’d been there except the two of them, and even then, it didn’t matter anymore. She’d done it. Helped them. One last time.

She turned down the corridor toward the exit, and almost walked straight into a man who was standing too stiffly in her path.

He was older, expensively dressed, with the familiar face of someone she’d seen on enough pit walls to know he didn’t belong there out of curiosity. Adam Norris. 

He looked her up and down, his voice clipped. “Ah. Amelia, is it?”

“That’s right.” She muttered. 

“I suppose we haven’t met.” He said. 

“No,” she said. “Not really.”

He hesitated. A beat passed. Two.

“I’ve… heard you’re very capable,” he said finally. “Talented. Bright.” He said it like he didn’t really believe it. 

She tilted her head. Frowned at him. “Did you tell Lando to stay away from me?”

He flinched, just barely. “I advised him to focus on his career.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It wasn’t a happy smile. “You should teach your son better manners.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She stepped around him, slow, deliberate, and kept walking. Past the orange panels, past the McLaren logo, past the team she’d poured her entire self into. 

By the time the sun dipped below the grandstands and the lights came on for the weekend's final showdown, she was long gone from the paddock. A flight booked for her under a new team name. A seat at a new table. A blank page waiting for her red inked scrawl.

Red Bull knew she was coming.

They just didn’t know what she was prepared to become.

— 

The Browns’ living room was filled with the scent of cinnamon, pine, and whatever Christmas candle Tracy had been obsessed with that week. The fireplace crackled softly, fairy lights twinkled around the windows, and somewhere in the background, Ella Fitzgerald was crooning something vintage and sentimental.

Amelia sat cross-legged on the floor in sweatpants and a hoodie, half-watching as her dad unwrapped a book about American muscle cars from the 1960s. He grinned like a kid, holding it up for Tracy to see.

“This is great,” Zak said. “I’ve been looking for this one.”

“I know,” Tracy said, leaning in to kiss his cheek before returning to her place at the table with a glass of wine. “I listen, you know. I’m a good wife.”

Amelia smiled faintly. She hadn’t said much all day. She’d made breakfast. Helped put the chicken in the oven. Unwrapped the gifts they handed her; socks, a new set of sketching pencils, a silver pen engraved with her initials, and said thank you each time. But the weight in her chest hadn’t lifted, not even when her mother handed her a plate stacked high with garlicky roast potatoes. 

Zak was still talking, flipping through the book, animated now. “I’ve got such a good feeling about next season,” he said, his eyes bright. “The team’s in a good place. Carlos is dialled in, Lando’s matured a lot. And the Mercedes power unit; I know we’re still with Renault this year, but it’ll be a game-changer for us in twenty-one. Might be the year we really start bothering the top three again.”

Amelia swallowed hard. Her fork hovered above her plate, untouched. She glanced down at her food. It was getting cold. Her stomach turned.

Across the table, Tracy watched her. Her gaze was soft but sharp, a mother’s intuition in full force.

“Everything okay, Amelia?” She asked gently.

Amelia nodded. “Yeah,” she said, quickly. “Just tired. Long few months.”

Tracy didn’t push, but Amelia could tell she wasn’t convinced.

Her phone buzzed once, facedown on the table beside her glass of water. She flipped it over, half expecting a message from Carlos, or worse, from her dad, who had a terrible habit of sending her random articles from F1Tech like she wasn’t sitting five feet away.

But it wasn’t Carlos.

iMessage — 17:02pm

Vrolijk Kerstfeest,

Can’t wait for you to build my championship-winning car. – M.V. 

She exhaled, barely more than a breath. The corner of her mouth lifted. Not a smile, not really, but the closest she’d come to one all day. She tapped her fingers against the table, hiding the message beneath her palm.

Of all the gifts she’d been given that morning — the socks, the pen, the awkward hug from her dad that still smelled faintly of cinnamon and gasoline — this was the only one that made her feel something. Recognition.

She glanced at her dad, still rambling about wind tunnel simulations and team morale like the world hadn’t shifted beneath their feet. Then she looked back down at her plate, her fork still untouched.

She hadn’t told him yet. She didn’t know when she would.

Maybe she wouldn’t at all.

Maybe she’d take a page out of his book. 

— 

“Red Bull Racing Hire Amelia Brown as Technical Design Intern, Working Under Adrian Newey”

— Motorsport.com

Red Bull Racing Announces Amelia Brown as New Technical Design Intern “Mini Newey” Joins Office of the CTO Ahead of 2020 F1 Season

Red Bull Racing has officially confirmed the addition of Amelia Brown to its technical department, naming her as a Technical Design Intern working directly under Chief Technical Officer Adrian Newey.

Brown, 19, has quietly gained a reputation in Formula 1 circles for her analytical precision and instinctive approach to problem-solving. Though never officially affiliated with a team, her behind-the-scenes contributions have turned heads up and down the paddock — especially within the aerodynamic development community.

“She’s one of the sharpest minds I’ve come across in years,” said Newey in a brief statement. “She has an innate understanding of car behaviour, balance, and airflow mapping that’s rare at any level of engineering, let alone someone so early in their career.”

While her appointment as an “intern” may sound modest, Red Bull insiders are already referring to Brown as “Mini Newey,” a nod to the technical savant under whom she will be working and a reflection of the high expectations within the team.

Team Principal Christian Horner added, “We’ve always prided ourselves on fostering talent, and Amelia represents the next generation of creative engineering thought. Her insight, even during early informal conversations, has already helped shape some of our thinking going into 2020.”

When asked about her appointment, Brown declined to comment directly, but sources inside the team say she will be working across simulation, aero development, and design review cycles throughout the season.

“She’s not here to make coffee,” said Gianpiero Lambiase, Verstappen's race engineer. “She’s here to change the game.”

Red Bull Racing’s 2020 challenger is set to be unveiled in Bahrain next month. Whether Brown’s influence will be visible from day one remains to be seen — but if early whispers are any indication, she won’t stay behind the curtain for long.

NEXT CHAPTER

[oreo-creampies]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, period cramps, suguru takes a bath with you, they all refuse to let you walk, pouty reader with Kento because I for one am emotional over tiny things during that time and kento being sweet with me would be everything, making s’mores with Satoru, full of kisses adoration and cuddles, for when you need cuddles and a bath, nap and cuddles or chocolate and cuddles

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Hi! May I request Suguru with a fem aligned reader (if u do write that but if not, gn is also ok!) who is on their monthly cycle? cramps r hell rn and I need some comfort.

Oreo: Hope this helps 🫶🏽 sorry I couldn't get this out sooner, I wanted to do more characters because I've been in the mood for some comfort too

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Slowly peeling the covers back, gently lifting you off the bed, cradling you to his chest. “Poor Princess, I hate seeing you like this.” You grimace, furrowing your brows. “Sorry my love for moving you.” Covering your cheek in soft kisses.

He doesn't stop until you’re smiling from the sweet attack. “Got our bath ready, the warmth and water should help ease the flow.” Getting lost in his captivating tender warm chocolate eyes.

“Our bath?”

The softness of his voice soothing. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't hold you when you’re cramping? I was thinking I would wash us off afterward, carry you back to bed.” Kissing his hard pec, resting your head against his warm chest, closing your eyes.

You’ve never had someone talk to you with such gentle kindness, look at you with such adoring love or tenderly touch you until Suguru. “You’re better than I deserve.”

“You deserve only the best, and I'm going to give it to you.” Carefully sitting you down on a towel covering the counter protecting you from the cold. Holding your arms up for Suguru to slip the baggy shirt off.

Lifting you off the counter, steadying you on your feet. “You are the best.”

“That’s why I’m your’s.” Pushing your underwear down, for you to step out of. Kissing above your pubic line, gently rubbing in soft circles where you’re cramping the most. After a year of living together he knows your body well.

Using paper tissues to toss your pad in the trash. Lifting you off your feet, cradling you lowering you into the warm, bubble bath. It's the perfect temperature, the water lapping at the back of your neck easing some of your head’s tension.

The bubbles reaching above your head, you have to make a small space otherwise be consumed whole. “You look beautiful and cozy.” Letting out a gentle sigh, the warmth and muscular relaxer soothing your aches.

“This is wonderful, thank you darling.” Suguru slips his sweats down, folding them up to set on the counter. Leaning forward he whips his feet off in the mat, stepping in behind. Carefully sitting down, pulling you into his lap.

Closing your eyes resting your head listening to the music. His chest rumbles when he sings, “Whatever words I say I will always love you, I will always love you, whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am free again.” Kissing the top of your head.

“Your voice sounds like heaven. I want to record you singing, I can listen to it to fall asleep when you’re working late.” Looking up at Suguru’s face, he smiling down at you.

The soft curve of his lips, the love in his eyes, this is what it’s like to be treasured by someone. “Which songs do you want me to sing for you my love?”

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Resting on his chest, eyes closed listening to Kento’s comforting voice reading. “Traveling down the thin winding path, not yet reclaimed by the forest’s growth. Breaking into a small clearing, displaying a partly dilapidated house. Part of the original brick structure standing tall still.” He pauses to flip the page, looking down at you.

Smiling at how you’d fallen asleep on his chest. Grabbing the long thin bookmark you gotten him. Slipping it between the pages, closing the book, setting it aside.

Checking the heating pad, gently making sure it's in place. Carefully lifting the blanket over you, covering you up to your neck. Slipping his glasses off, laying his head down on the pillow behind him. Closing his eyes and enjoying the peace of the moment.

Your cramps had been persisting all morning, at last you were comfortable enough to fall asleep. He loves your soft warm body resting in top of his. The safety in knowing you’re protected, happy and at peace.

The sun has set by the time Kento wakes up. “My love?” Kissing the top of your head. Massaging your stomach and sides. “Wake up I need to get dinner started, I'll get you cozy in the bed with the heading pad.” He peels the blanket back, grabbing the now cold heading pad setting it aside.

Shifting on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Kento carefully fixes the blanket on yo. Wrapping his arm around you, slowly standing up. “What are you craving?”

Pouting whining in frustration, “I dunno! I'm hungry but I don't know what I want. I don't want you to leave me alone.” Cupping the back of your head, swiping his thumb in small circles. His gentle touch soothing your emotional turmoil.

“Take out it is you can look at what you want and take your time there’s no rush. I'll carrying you to and from the door to get the food.” Nudging the bedroom door open with his foot. He knows the bedroom by memory.

Carrying you with one arm, pulling the covers back, laying you down then flicks on the lamp. “We need to make sure we get you something yummy.” Kento kisses your forehead. “Lemme get your heating pad and my phone.”

Kento isn't gone long coming back into the room. He’s beautiful with his blond hair falling across his thin framed glasses. You like them more than his green and silver ones that hide the beautiful dark coffee brown shade of his warm, gentle, tired eyes.

Slipping into underneath the covers, holding his arms out for you to climb slowly onto his lap. Resting your chest on his chest craving the skin to skin.

Placing the heating pad on your stomach, grabbing the near by covers and covering you both. “Comfortiable beautiful?”

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

You have a wonderful view of Satoru in a tight black shirt splitting open firewood with a wooden axe. You’d insisted a cabin in the woods because you pouted about being around other people was a bit extreme. Now that you’re here with no one else but Satoru for miles around it’s peaceful and necessary.

The view of his arms flexing when bringing the axe through the wood catching your attention. Almost distracting you from the monthly fit your body is throwing from not getting knocked up by Satoru.

Loading the logs into the pit. He points his fingers at it, looks up at the window and smiles. Could he really spark the firepit without destroying the ground around it?

You eyes widen. There’s a flash of light and boom fire errupts from the pit. Arching towards the sky, settling down, gradually getting lower as it consumes the wooden logs.

Blowing off the his finger gun proud of himself. Then vanishing out of site as he comes into the cabin. Slipping back outside covering the bench in several blankets and the throw pillows from the sofa. The bringing out a plate with a roasting stick.

Dipping back into the house Satoru bursts into the bedroom, grinning widely. “It’s s’mores time! Cuddles, a crackling fire underneath the stars your wonderful boyfriend feeding you chocolate you might be cramping but that has to help a little right?

“Can’t think anything sweeter, other than getting some kisses from you ha.” Satoru climbs onto the bed, hovering over you carefully not to let his weight crush you. Softly kissing your nose, cheeks, forehead and lips. You can feel his smile in the gentle curve of his lips.

Wrapping your legs around him, parting your lips for his tongue. You crave Satoru’s slow, sweet romantic kisses more than air. Slipping your fingers through his short undercut into his fluffy hair.

Squeezing your sides lifting you off the bed. Refusing to break away, he’s lost in your soft lips whimpering into the kiss. Carrying you through the door, slowly sliding his hand up and down your back, cupping your ass.

Pulling away you need to breathe, resting your head on his chest. Shivering from the cool fall air, nuzzling your head into Satoru’s neck, kissing him gently.

“Your kisses are sweeter than any treat I could buy.” Satoru sits down with you straddling his lap. Picking up the roasting fork, its tip having been resting on a plate next to some marshmallow, a chocolate bar and some Graham crackers.

“Cheesy!” Leaning back enough to admire Satoru’s handsome face. Kissing his cheek.

He passes the roasting stick to his other hand. Squeezing your between his arms when he sticks a fluffy marshmellow onto it’s tip. “It’s true! The way you kiss me is so sweet and loving, it makes my heart beat faster every time. I can't stop kissing you, it's getting worse. Everytime I see you I want to cover you in kisses, hold you close and never let you go!”

Oreo’s m.list

[aneertawrites]

LADS Guys and Their Love Languages ˎˊ˗

fluff!

spicy ver

a/n : this is a quick one to keep u guys fed while i write up some drafts on prideandprejudice!Xavier 😝 pls feel free to request some ideas you’d like me to do while i work on creating a master list 😭

oh, nothing

just thinking about how much i need these men🫠

Xavier - Quality Time

ׂ╰┈➤ Xavier is a man who keeps to himself, not letting many in, so when he chooses to be close, it’s his way of showing care. He’s not the type to declare his feelings in words, but when he’s in your space, unwinding, simply lying next to you—it’s his way of letting you know he feels safe with you, that you’re worth his quiet.

***

Xavier had been quiet all evening, but it wasn’t the usual tension in the air. He’d simply settled on the couch, his body relaxed, his eyes heavy with fatigue.

You glanced at him, noticing how still he was, how comfortable he looked just being in the same space.

Without a word, you sat beside him, and after a moment, he pulled you against him, one arm draping over your shoulders.

“Stay with me,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

You leaned into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. There was no grand gesture, no demands. Just him, content to be there with you, letting everything else fall away.

Zayne - Acts of Service

ׂ╰┈➤ Zayne is emotional, but he’s also practical in the ways that count. He notices things—your posture, your tone, the way you avoid eye contact when you’re burnt out. He responds by taking action: bringing you meds, making you food, forcing you to rest. He’s the “you good?” every two hours, the “drink water” texts, the “I noticed you haven’t eaten” guy—and he does it without making it about himself.

***

“You skipped lunch again,” Zayne said, appearing with a bowl of soup before you could refuse.

You sighed. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re stubborn,” he muttered, setting the food down and flicking on your med scanner.

It beeped once.

“You’re dehydrated. And your sleep cycle’s wrecked.”

You gave him a look. “Did you seriously run a check on me?”

He didn’t flinch. “If I didn’t, would you have told me?”

He sat beside you, pushing the bowl closer. “I’m not doing this because I have to. I’m doing it because I care whether you live long enough to yell at me tomorrow.”

Rafayel - Physical Touch

ׂ╰┈➤ Rafayel is smooth, yes—but underneath the elegance and bravado, there’s something far more intense. He thrives on contact—not for show, but for reassurance. Fingers on your jaw, hands ghosting over your back, a touch to your wrist in a crowd. He needs to feel that you’re real. And when he’s vulnerable, that touch turns reverent.

***

You were pacing again. Rafayel watched in silence from the couch, fingers steepled under his chin.

Then, quietly, “Come here.”

You paused.

“Rafayel, I—”

He was already moving, crossing the room to cup your face in both hands, forehead barely brushing yours. “You’re overthinking again,” he said, voice soft, almost bitter. “Always running from your own head.”

His thumbs stroked your cheeks—slow, grounding.

“I can’t fix what’s in there,” he murmured, “but I can remind you that you’re here. With me.”

You leaned in, and he held you like you were glass. Not fragile—precious.

Sylus - Words of Affirmation

ׂ╰┈➤ Sylus might act tough, but at his core, he’s a romantic. He’s always complimenting you, not just casually but with real meaning. His words are never empty; he speaks with intent, letting you know how much he values you—whether it’s your strength, intelligence, or the way you make him feel. He doesn’t shy away from telling you what he appreciates about you, and he makes sure you know that he sees you in a way no one else does.

***

You were sitting on the couch, mind running in circles, picking apart everything you’d done wrong that day. The noise in your head was getting louder, and you just couldn’t stop.

Sylus stood in the doorway, watching you for a moment before he approached, sitting beside you.

“You’re beating yourself up again,” he said quietly, his gaze steady.

You didn’t answer right away, but he didn’t press. Instead, he simply placed a hand on your knee.

“You’re doing better than you think,” he continued, his voice calm. “You always push yourself to the edge, but you never break.”

He let his words linger, watching you carefully. “You don’t have to be perfect. You’re strong enough without having to prove it every time.”

Caleb - Gift Giving

ׂ╰┈➤ Caleb is curious, excitable, sentimental—and oh so adorable. He expresses affection in the tangible: handmade gadgets, creating you things you need (like a vanity), topping up on your makeup when he sees it’s running out, etc. He gives not out of obligation, but because every item is a moment he wanted to remember with you in it.

***

You returned to your and Caleb’s apartment to find a small, clunky device humming softly on your side table.

You frowned. “What… is this?”

Caleb’s voice piped up from the hall. “Touch the button on the side!”

You did.

A tiny holo sprung up: you and him, side by side, laughing over some half-broken drone.

“It loops our first run back from the toy store together,” he said, peeking in, sheepish. “I know it’s cheesy, but… I liked that day.”

You looked at him.

He shrugged. “So I bottled it. Figured… maybe you liked it too.”

masterlist

Taglist : @etsuniiru @kyokoyya @i-messed-up-big-time @firefly1103 @gracekerzzz @mcdepressed290 @sylusgirlie7 @plzdonutpercieveme