#next scenarios

[mikoworks]

"Always There"

Part 1 - You are here

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

@anyamusumesonlywife @omagpies

[daysofnights]

padfoot grabbing cat regulus by the scruff of his neck and forcefully bringing him to the gryffindor dorm because he's been avoiding james after a fight

[joshuamj]

Okay, but what if EoW!Zelda had to impersonate Link

[the-chaotic-anon]

Based on a little joke idea I made about @ugly-bug-starscream’s and @edd-drawsyo’s Sky Loving The Stars AU. The original idea was Back To The Future with the Aerial bots but I wanted to draw that ending scene with young Skyfire and Starscream!

Bonus Sketch + Original Reference

[zephyrchama]

Asmodeus with your picture taped to the mirror of his vanity. It's decorated in stickers and marker drawings, with a pink paper border that's starting to dull and sag with age. It will be okay, though. That's what he tells himself. Its got a protective charm on it now.

Asmodeus aligns his face next to yours when he does his hair and makeup. He talks to photo-you about his day, about his brothers, about the jobs he's been hired to do. It's awful lonely when you don't talk back.

Being worlds apart is tough.

[cobaltfluff]

imagine being in love with your boyfriend RIVAL leading to such an elementary oversight

extra akiren :3c

[hyuckiefluff]

playing dirty | z. chenle

pairing: basketball captain! chenle x fashion major! fem.reader

genre: established relationship, smut, a lil bit of crack

wc: 4k

summary: you’re tired of chenle ditching you for basketball practice, so you do what any rational girlfriend would do—show up to his practice in a slutty version of his team’s uniform. turns out you’re kind of good at basketball. turns out chenle can’t handle watching his teammates ogle the love of his life. turns out the locker room has a lock for a reason.

content warnings: semi-public sex, jealousy & possessiveness, mild clothing kink, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, light degradation (slut), brief choking, hair pulling, creampie, titfucking, spit play, exhibitionism (accidental), bratty reader, basketball but make it horny, suggestive banter, mild embarrassment & teasing, soft dom!chenle. lmk if i missed any!

a/n: possessive chenle save me SAVE ME POSSESSIVE CHENLE lol i had a lot of fun writing this and i rlly like how it came out (especially the smut kekeke). kinda nervous since it’s my first chenle fic lol lmk what u think bffs! ps: stream lucid !! my king chenle is serving face and vocals as usual!!

you’re sick of it.

sick of the half‑assed excuses, the “i’ll make it up to you, babe” texts, the cold side of your bed because basketball practice ran late again. the sport isn’t the villain here—chenle’s priorities are. so tonight you decide to speak in the only language that ever slapped any sense into him: pure, weaponized pettiness.

you dig into your closet to find the box tucked behind an old hoodie. the custom set you spent a whole week sewing in the campus fashion studio—his cropped jersey perfectly tailored to end right above your ribs, his number stretched neatly across your chest, tight little shorts that ride up high enough to give anyone with a pulse an aneurysm, and tube socks that reach your knees but do absolutely nothing to hide how much skin is on display. 

you originally designed it as a birthday gift for chenle, something psexy and playful, the kind of outfit that should not leave the bedroom.

but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“you want to play, baby,” you murmur to yourself, lip tugging into a smirk as you tug the top down over your chest, admiring how your careful stitchwork hugs every curve. “let’s play then.”

twenty minutes later, you're outside the gym where chenle’s practicing. you can hear echoing laughter, the thump of basketballs, and the sound of sneakers squeaking across the court. chenle’s voice cuts through it every few seconds barking out plays or teasing his teammates, totally oblivious to the chaos about to walk through the double doors.

you adjust the hem of your very customized uniform and tug the waistband of your shorts up an inch, just enough to make your ass cheeks peek out more.

when you swing the gym doors open, a dozen jaws detach from skulls in real time. one guy bricks a layup so hard the ball ricochets off the backboard and clatters to the floor.

chenle basically inhales the water he was drinking the moment he sees you strut onto the court in the tiny jersey you stitched yourself. he doesn’t even manage any words at first, just blinks slowly.

you beam, stepping closer. “hey, baby!”

he moves toward you quickly, fingers gripping the hem of your jersey and trying to tug it down. “what the hell are you wearing?”

“your uniform, duh!” you say innocently. “remember you said i could come practice with you sometime?”

“yeah—but not…not like this!” he hisses, glancing sharply over his shoulder. his teammates aren’t even pretending to look away, their eyes glued shamelessly to every exposed inch of you. chenle groans, turning back to you in disbelief. “jesus christ, y/n.”

you spin slowly, letting him admire your handiwork. “i made it myself. do you like it?”

his eyes narrow, but they still flick down to watch your chest bounce beneath the tight fabric.

somewhere behind him, jaemin whistles low and appreciative. “yo, chenle, if you don’t want her, i’ll gladly take her on my team.”

chenle’s jaw clenches. “let’s go,” he mutters, gripping your wrist to lead you off the court.

but you plant your feet, looking up at him through your lashes. “lele, you promised you’d teach me,” you pout, your voice sweet and pleading—exactly the tone you know breaks him every single time.

you see the storm raging behind his eyes, the internal battle he’s clearly losing. after a long, tense pause, he finally gives in with an irritated sigh.

“fine,” chenle groans, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “i’ll teach you.”

he tries to sound firm, tries so damn hard to keep his cool but his voice cracks the instant you bend down to grab a stray basketball. every single set of eyes follows as your shorts ride dangerously higher. chenle practically growls under his breath.

“eyes up,” he snaps sharply at his teammates.

you hide a satisfied smirk, straightening up slowly and tossing chenle the ball. “so, how do i shoot?”

he glares at you, conflicted. he knows exactly what game you’re playing, but it’s too late to back down now. he steps close, muttering something unintelligible under his breath and positions his hands firmly on your waist. his fingers flex possessively against your skin making heat spark low in your belly.

“bend your knees,” chenle instructs tightly. you comply, feeling him tense behind you as your ass brushes firmly against him. he clears his throat roughly. “now raise your arms.”

you do as you’re told, stretching slowly, feeling every pair of eyes glued to the way your jersey inches higher. someone coughs loudly and someone else whistles under their breath.

“like this?” you ask, feigning innocence as you toss the ball. it hits the rim and bounces away, but the guys clap loudly like you just dunked on lebron.

chenle’s jaw clenches. “yeah, like that,” he mutters through gritted teeth, pulling you close again. “try it again, but please don’t stick your ass out so much this time.”

you laugh softly, leaning back just enough to whisper in his ear. “why not? you like it.”

he groans quietly, his grip on your hip tightening in warning. “don’t push it, baby.”

just as chenle's hands tense possessively at your waist, a teasing voice interrupts from behind.

“yo, captain! why don’t we run a quick game? let your girl play too, seems like she’s picking it up quickly.”

chenle's entire body stiffens, eyes narrowing dangerously at the cocky teammate smirking across the court. haechan, obviously—never passing up a chance to stir shit up.

“yeah,” another voice eagerly agrees. “she can be on our team!”

“not a chance,” chenle snaps, glaring daggers at them. “she stays with me.”

you tilt your head. “actually, i think i wanna be on the other team. it'll be fun playing against you.”

he groans quietly, clearly torn between the urge to pull you away and needing to save face in front of the team. he runs a frustrated hand through his hair before giving in with a sharp exhale. “fine. first team to five points wins, then we’re done. keep it clean,” he warns, voice tight as he shoots a pointed glare toward his teammates.

the guys erupt in cheers, gathering quickly around you to strategize. haechan immediately drapes an arm lazily over your shoulder, pulling you closer than strictly necessary and making chenle visibly bristle.

“alright, newbie,” haechan smirks, eyes flicking playfully toward chenle. “just stand there looking pretty and we’ll handle the rest.”

you smile sweetly, leaning up close enough to whisper in his ear and making sure chenle sees every move. “oh, i can handle myself just fine.”

you catch chenle’s scowl deepening, his fists clenching at his sides. suddenly, the entire gym feels about ten degrees hotter, and you’re pretty sure it has nothing to do with basketball.

the game begins, and the team immediately spreads out, pretending to care about positions and plays, but half their attention is undeniably on you. you smile sweetly, dribbling cautiously, deliberately bending forward just enough to ensure everyone behind you gets a generous view.

chenle’s voice slices sharply through the gym, frustration barely restrained. “eyes on the damn ball, idiots.”

you stifle a laugh, heart thrumming with exhilaration. you might be new to basketball, but getting under chenle’s skin is a game you’ve mastered to perfection.

every bounce of the ball, every step you take, you can feel eyes following—chenle’s most intensely of all. he’s practically vibrating with jealousy, torn between defending against his teammates’ shameless stares and actually playing defense.

haechan effortlessly steals the ball from your boyfriend and tosses it your way, shouting, “take the shot, rookie!”

you catch it clumsily, laughing breathlessly as chenle lunges in your direction, eyes narrowed with determination. adrenaline spikes as you fake left, then slip past him with surprising agility. your lay-up is sloppy, but by some miracle, it actually swishes neatly through the hoop.

the gym erupts in cheers and whistles. spinning around with a triumphant grin, you lift your arms in exaggerated celebration. haechan immediately appears beside you, pulling you into an enthusiastic hug that lingers just a second too long.

“damn, captain,” he calls out loudly. “better watch out, your girl got sweeter hands than you.”

chenle’s eyes flash dangerously, jaw visibly clenching as he stalks across the court toward you. every step radiates possessiveness and simmering annoyance. you tilt your head innocently, knowing exactly what’s coming next and loving every heated second of it.

“that's it. practice over,” he announces sharply, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker rooms.

“aww, dude—” haechan starts, clearly amused, but chenle silences him with a glare that could kill.

you bite your lip, heart pounding with satisfaction. finally, you’ve pushed him right past breaking point.

exactly as planned.

chenle’s grip on your wrist is firm, bordering on rough, as he drags you past the swinging locker room door and shoves it closed behind you. the echoes of sneakers squeaking and voices laughing outside fade, replaced by the rapid thump of your heartbeat and chenle’s heavy breathing.

he turns sharply, backing you against the lockers, eyes darkened with frustration.

“what the hell was that?” he demands, voice low and raw. his gaze drifts from your flushed cheeks down to the ridiculously cropped jersey, lingering briefly on the exposed curve of your waist before snapping back up to meet your eyes.

“basketball practice,” you reply innocently. “you always said you wanted me to learn.”

“not dressed like this,” he growls. 

his hand finds the hem of your jersey, fingers grazing the bare skin underneath. he hesitates, visibly swallowing down his jealousy. “you really made this yourself?”

“yep,” you say lifting your chin proudly. “thought it might inspire you.”

chenle scoffs, but his thumb drifts in soft circles at your waist despite the scowl. “inspire me to what? murder my teammates?”

you giggle, fingertips dancing across his chest. “you’re jealous, lele. admit it.”

“yeah, i am,” he mutters sharply.

his grip tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer against him. “didn’t you see how those assholes were looking at you? like they wanted—”

“like they wanted what’s yours?” you interrupt softly, teasing a finger along his jaw. “maybe i just felt like reminding you of that.”

his breath catches, and for a moment, he just stares down at you. finally, he sighs heavily, tension slipping into something deeper, hotter, infinitely more possessive.

“well, consider me reminded,” he murmurs, voice raspy as his lips brush teasingly against your ear. “but you’re never wearing this again for anyone but me.”

you shiver, leaning into him as your voice drops to a whisper. “oh? and what if i refuse?”

he smirks dangerously, eyes glinting. “then i guess i’ll just have to make you.”

his mouth melts against yours before you can tease him again. the kiss is punishing, hard enough to erase every grin haechan shot your way and every greedy glance the team threw at your thighs. 

his hands roam without hesitation gripping your waist, sliding up under the jersey, cupping your breasts with a low groan. he breaks the kiss to mutter, “fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra?”

“would’ve ruined the look,” you whisper, breath hitching as his thumbs brush your nipples. “you like it?”

“fuck yeah i like it” he growls.

you gasp as he yanks the jersey over your head in one swift motion and places it in his pocket. his lips trail down your neck, biting at the skin there. “next time you wanna get my attention,” he mutters, voice muffled against your collarbone, “just fucking say so. don’t make me nearly kill haechan on the court.”

you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair. “where’s the fun in that?”

his eyes flash as he sinks to his knees, fingers curling into the waistband of your shorts. “i’ll show you fun.”

he tugs them down so slowly it's almost torturous and drags your panties with them. his breath ghosts over your inner thighs, his mouth following suit a moment later. he groans against your skin, licking a slow stripe up your center before wrapping his arms around your legs and diving in.

you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that slips out. the locker room’s not soundproof, and the last thing you need is the team doubling back and catching chenle with his head buried between your thighs.

but he doesn’t care. he wants them to know. he wants them to hear you fall apart on his tongue, wants every single one of those bastards to understand that you’re his.

you’re already trembling when he stands back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and kissing you. his fingers curl under your thigh, lifting you effortlessly as he walks you backward into the coach’s office—a smaller room with a desk and a door that locks.

he kicks it shut behind him.

“bend over the desk,” he commands, voice low and dangerous.

you obey, heat pooling between your legs again as your chest hits the wood and his hands smooth down your spine. he’s rougher now, undoing his shorts with jerky movements, lining himself up behind you with no warning except a hot breath against your ear and the blunt press of his tip against your entrance.

“you wanna dress like a little slut in front of my team?” he rasps, gripping your hips. “then take it like one.”

he slams into you in one deep, punishing thrust, and you cry out, barely able to hold yourself up. each snap sends your hips jerking against the desk, the edge biting into your stomach.

“this what you wanted?” he pants behind you, fingers digging into your waist hard enough to bruise. “wanted to make me jealous? wanted to be the center of attention?”

you nod frantically, but it’s not enough. his hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head back so your eyes meet his in the reflection of the office window that’s fogged up and smeared from the heat of your bodies.

“say it.”

“yes,” you gasp out, eyes glassy. “i wanted to drive you crazy.”

he chuckles darkly, chest heaving. “congrats, baby. mission fucking accomplished.”

his hand slips down, fingers finding your clit and circling it mercilessly. your legs threaten to give out, but he holds you steady, pinning you against the desk with his weight and the sharp slap of his hips.

“look at you,” he growls. “acting all innocent in front of my team, now falling apart on my cock.”

you’re close to your orgasm when suddenly, he yanks you back by the hair and pulls out with a wet slap. you whimper at the loss, but he’s already grabbing your hips nd spinning you around.

he spreads your legs and slides back in with a guttural moan. his hands come up, almost reverently, cupping the soft weight of your breasts as they bounce with every thrust. 

his thumbs brush over your nipple and then he leans down, mouth hot and greedy as he sucks one into his mouth, groaning in pleasure.

“fuck—” he pants, tongue swirling and teeth grazing just enough to make you jolt. “i can’t fucking think when they’re out like this. you know what you do to me?” 

your moans are strangled now. he’s sucking so hard, it s leaving deep red bruises all over your chest. he bites, soothes, sucks again. you clutch at his shoulders, legs wrapping tighter around him, and he grinds deeper, angling his hips to hit exactly where you need him most. his rhythm’s gone erratic, his obsession pouring into every snap of his hips, every bruise he leaves behind.

“look at you,” he pants, pulling back just far enough to watch. “bouncing all pretty for me. no one else gets to see this. no one else gets to fucking touch you.”

his palm slaps across your tit. hard enough to make it jiggle and watch the recoil as he thrusts in hard.

“fuck,” he groans, voice breaking. “you’re gonna make me cum just looking at you.”

your head lolls back, a whimper escaping your lips as his hand slides from your breast down to your neck, holding you still, eyes locked on the mess of you laid out under him—wrecked and panting and marked everywhere his mouth could reach.

you’re close again, tighter and hotter this time, clenching around him. your moans echo in the small office, filthy and raw, and he doesn’t even try to hold back now.

he fucks into you harder, mouth locked on your nipple again as he spills inside you, every muscle in his body tensing as he groans against your chest 

you’re barely coherent, mind hazy from the way he just fucked you over the desk. but chenle isn’t satisfied. not even close. he steps back to drink in your naked form, flushed and dripping with him.

his cock’s still rock hard somehow, twitching against his stomach, and his stare is nothing short of unhinged.

“lean back,” he rasps, grabbing your chin with wet fingers. “hands behind you. keep your tits up.”

you obey instinctively, legs falling open wider as you brace yourself on the desk, presenting yourself like the filthy little offering you are.

chenle just grins and crouches slightly, grabbing your breasts with both hands. and then he spits on your chest. hot, stringy spit right down the center of your, sliding between your tits and pooling under your collarbone.

“that’s better,” he mutters, eyes gleaming. “you look so hot covered in my spit.”

you gasp, chest rising as he does it again. letting it drip from his tongue while staring you down, and then he smears it in using his thumbs to rub it across your nipples.

you moan, high and wrecked. “lele—fuck—”

“look at your fucking face. you’re getting off on this.”

you are. embarrassingly so. he can see it in the way your thighs clench, and in the way your hips shift forward aching for more attention. he presses his cock between your tits now, sliding it back and forth while kneading them hard, thumb brushing over your nipple with every thrust.

“look at me,” he snaps.

your gaze locks onto his, dizzy and dazed.

“open your mouth.”

you do and he spits again, right onto your tongue.

“don’t swallow yet.” he growls, shoving his cock between your tits faster now, panting like a man losing his mind. “keep it there. hold it.”

you moan around the spit in your mouth, letting it dribble down your chin just to watch his eyes darken even more. chenle looks fucking deranged with lust.

you moan when the head of his cock slides forward, the tip just barely grazing your chin on the upstroke.

you glance up at him, lashes fluttering, and then you stick your tongue out enough to tease the head when it brushes close.

“fuck,” he hisses, thrusting harder between your breasts now, chasing that angle again, just to feel your tongue catch him. “you want it in your mouth that bad, huh? can’t even wait?”

his cock keeps hitting just under your chin, and every time it does, you flick your tongue out again and catch the tip, tasting the mess off his slit.

“fucking—fuck,” he curses. “do it again.”

you do and this time, you even suck lightly when he slows for a second, lips parting around just the head before he pulls back and keeps fucking your chest. his control is shattered now. his body stutters and twitches with every stroke.

you whimper, fingers gripping the edge of the desk behind you, mouth open and waiting.

“you love this,” he pants. “you love being used like this. letting me fuck your tits… drooling for my cock.”

“i love it,”  you whisper, lips glossy with spit and pre-cum. “i love how crazy you get when i do.”

he thrusts one more time and spills between your breasts again, ropes of cum painting your skin. you lean forward, tongue dragging through his tip. licking the cum off it slowly, like a cat drinking milk.

chenle nearly collapses, stumbling forward and pressing against your bare chest.

“you ever show up to practice like that again,” he murmurs, voice hoarse against your skin, “i’ll fuck you in front of them all. make ‘em watch while i ruin you.”

you whimper, still trembling beneath him.

“but for now,” he smirks, wiping your chin with his thumb and sucking it clean, “this mess stays just between us.”

you’re still catching your breath, body slick with sweat and spit and cum, when chenle leans in and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. it’s a jarring contrast to the way he just wrecked you against the desk, but that’s chenle. feral one minute, gentle the next. both versions still obsessed with you.

he puts on his shorts, pulls your jersey from the pocket and inspects it with a low whistle.

“you’re not putting this back on,” he mutters, shaking his head. “no fucking way.”

you smirk, chest still rising and falling as you look up at him. “why not? i worked hard on it.”

“you said you made it to inspire me, so i’m keeping it.” he crumples the jersey in one fist and shoves it straight into his pocket. “i’m hanging that shit on my wall.”

you laugh, weakly. “you’re ridiculous.”

he grabs his team jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, zipping it halfway up. it swallows your smaller frame, falling almost to your knees, sleeves covering your hands entirely. the way he looks at you—satisfied and possessive—makes it clear the outfit isn't negotiable.

“here,” he says, tightening the collar just a bit. “this is all you’re wearing now.”

you glance down at how the hem of the jacket just barely hits the tops of your thighs. you’re still wearing nothing underneath.

“guess i’m going commando,” you hum, teasing.

“yeah, but no one’s gonna know except me.” chenle grins, standing tall and adjusting your hair with stupid care. “let’s get you out of here.”

you barely make it out of the office when a low whistle slices through the silence.

the entire team—haechan front and center—is awkwardly standing there, pretending they haven't been shamelessly eavesdropping. 

“damn, took you long enough.”

chenle freezes, fingers tightening around yours so hard you nearly yelp. 

“i think you lost these,” haechan says, eyes sparkling mischievously as he spins something delicate around his index finger, your eyes widen with recognition.

your panties.

“found ‘em by the lockers. figured someone might be missing them.”

chenle’s face goes murderous in a heartbeat, jaw clenching so tight you're afraid his teeth might crack.

“give me those,” he growls, lunging toward haechan, who dances backward, keeping them just out of reach.

the boy chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this torture. “you gotta be careful, man. wouldn’t want anyone else to find your girl’s cute little souvenirs.”

chenle lunges again, this time catching haechan’s wrist, wrenching your panties out of his grasp roughly. “i’ll kill you, dude.”

haechan just laughs, completely unfazed. he shifts his gaze toward you, his voice playfully taunting. “maybe next time you practice with us, try keeping these on? might help the captain focus a little better.”

you bury your face into chenle’s chest, half laughing, half dying of embarrassment. chenle just rolls his eyes, pulling you closer and guiding you down the hallway, past his shameless teammates. 

“you assholes got nothing better to do?”

“nah,” haechan replies smoothly, eyes twinkling with barely restrained laughter. “but it sounds like you two were pretty busy.”

the team snickers loudly, trying (and failing) to keep straight faces. chenle’s ears turn scarlet, but he keeps a protective arm tightly wrapped around your shoulders.

“fuck off,” chenle mutters darkly. “next practice, you’re all running laps until you puke.”

“worth it,” haechan teases, tossing you a playful wink. “good game, by the way.”

“practice tomorrow?” jaemin asks from behind, laughter bubbling beneath his words.

“fuck no,” chenle growls back without turning around. “we’ll be busy.”

as you pass the door,  haechan calls out, voice dripping amusement and challenge

“see you next practice y/n!”

chenle’s response is immediate, muttered darkly into your ear. “like hell he will.”

your cheeks burn from embarrassment—and exhilaration.

mission fucking accomplished, indeed.

[gleafer]

Sometimes before I have to tuck into a big job with a bad deadline, I need to mentally prepare myself with a few warm up sketches before hand to loosen the ol’ noggin.

They’re quick and messy, but make me giggle! It’s the sugar that makes the medicine go down.

[starmocha]

11 months — first father's day

[Sylus + Daughter ★ 1377 words ★ Masterlist ★ Birdie Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Sylus' first Father's Day. Tag list: Under cut 【 request to be added 】

A/N: I'm over a week late, but life happens and all that jazz.

There was a warm breeze that passed through Linkon City, and within the city park, Sylus found himself drifting in and out of sleep on a picnic blanket on this lazy Sunday morning. Suddenly, he let out an overexaggerated grunt when he felt small little palms slapping against stomach repeatedly, joined by excited babblings.

He cracked one eye open, smirking at the sight of the eleven-month-old girl in her red-and-white pomegranate-printed summer dress giggling before she plopped down on the ground, instantly sucking her thumb.

“Trying to look innocent now, are you, my little birdie?” Sylus questioned with a smirk as he sat half-way up, with his forearms still grounded to hold his weight.

His daughter pulled her thumb out of her mouth and giggled at her father before clapping her hands together.

“It’s no use acting so cute,” Sylus teased, “I have my eyes on you. Don’t think this little façade of yours will work on me, my little birdie.”

Immediately, his daughter babbled again confused before she turned around and started crawling toward you. You instantly scooped the baby girl into your arms and nuzzled your cheek against hers. “Oh, dear, did the big bad guy over there scared you, baby?”

The girl squirmed in your hold before you set her down. You smiled as she attempted to stand up on her own. She took clumsy little steps back toward Sylus. Immediately he sat up, smiling, as his arms were outstretched.

“That’s it, good job, baby,” Sylus praised, “You’re doing so well today.”

His smile widened when he noticed you had whipped out your phone, holding it sideway as you recorded the scene before you. His eyes drifted back to his little girl, chuckling when she stumbled and fell on her bottom. Before she could cry, he encouraged her once more, “It’s alright. You’re fine. Try again, baby.”

As if she understood her father, the little girl pushed herself upright again, and stumbled her way back to her father before she collapsed into his waiting arms, giggling when he lifted her high into the air. She kicked her feet excitedly before Sylus lowered her back down, holding her close in his embrace. He kissed the top of her head, murmuring sweetly, “You did so well, my little birdie.” He lowered his voice so only you and your daughter could hear him speak, “Why, soon you will be running rampage around the base.”

You ended the recording, laughing. “I don’t think we will be able to babyproof the whole place for her,” you teased.

Sylus lifted his daughter back into the air, smiling when she giggled again and started patting his face excitedly with both small hands of hers. He blew a kiss into her stomach, chuckling alongside his daughter’s excited giggles and your laughter. “She has free reign of the base,” he said, setting his daughter back down into his lap, with her facing you. “It will be hers someday anyway.”

You sighed at him exasperatedly. “Aren’t you thinking too far ahead?”

He shrugged. “So what?”

Before either of you could continue your conversation, your daughter babbled loudly and reached for the array of picnic food you had prepared. You smiled, and picked up a plastic container full of cutup strawberries. You fed one to her, saying gently, “Chew thoroughly, baby.”

“How about me?” Sylus teased you, opening his mouth wide, waiting.

You pretended to roll your eyes at him before you fed him a cutup strawberry. “Chew thoroughly, Sylus,” you teased him back.

“Mm, it’s sweet,” he responded, and before you could react, he had already guided you closer to him, his lips pressed to yours in a tender kiss. It didn’t last for long, but it was still enough for you to freeze up until you both heard the baby girl between you both crying out:

“Ah, ah!”

Sylus chuckled while you laughed awkwardly and reached for another piece of strawberry. “Alright, Little Miss, here’s another strawberry for you.”

“Bossy little birdie,” Sylus quipped with pride, his smile unwavering as he watched his daughter happily eat her piece of fruit. He chuckled when she yelled out again for more strawberries. “She has the makings of a great leader.”

“You are incorrigible.”

Your daughter leaned in closer eagerly for her next bite, but suddenly her eyes widened in shock when she was lifted into the air, her vision of you—and her precious strawberries—gone, replaced by her father’s smirk. She cried out confused before giggling when her father blew another kiss into her stomach.

“Do you hear that, baby? Mommy thinks Daddy is incorrigible,” Sylus said with feigned hurt, clearly trying to provoke you, but instead of falling for his ploy, you matched his wits.

“Using our daughter to have your ways?” you questioned him with mock astonishment. “For shame. I thought you were above such underhanded moves, Sylus.”

He huffed in amusement at your attempts to mess with him, his crimson eyes brightening the more he noticed you trying to hide your smiles. “Sweetie,” his voice lowered, and discreetly, he motioned with his fingers, manipulating his Evol to pull you closer to him, until you were settled in his lap with your daughter in yours. You shivered as his breath brushed against your ear, too stunned to register what had just happened. “I can be even more underhanded than this.”

“N-not in front of our daughter,” you scolded him with rosy cheeks.

“Very well,” he conceded lightheartedly, but his hand on your hip pulled you closer until your head rested against his chest. He leaned down, kissing the top of your head, his playful tone now gone. In its place, there was a familiar sincerity, warm and trusting, as he kept his words soft for only you and your daughter to hear: “Thank you.”

“For what?” You peered up confused, meeting his amused gaze. “I didn’t do anything…”

Sylus shook his head in disagreement. He tilted your chin up, and another fleeting kiss landed on your lips. “This picnic. This life. Our daughter,” he listed each one patiently, continuing in that same gentle tone, “You have given me so much already, and I fear I am still greedy for more.”

“Ah ah!”

You both laughed and looked down at the baby girl in your lap, seeing her eyeing the container of strawberries again. She squirmed in your hold, hand reaching out for the elusive fruit. She cried out in frustration when you held her tighter.

“Looks like you are not the only greedy one here today, Sylus,” you teased.

Sylus discreetly used his Evol to grab a small piece of strawberry, motioning it closer until it was held between his fingers. He peered down at his daughter, seeing her eyes widened with eagerness, her mouth agape, waiting.

“Do you want this strawberry, my little birdie?” He guided the strawberry to his own mouth, but stopped when his daughter cried out in frustration again.

“Ah ah!”

“This is the last sweet strawberry,” Sylus said, “What does this little birdie have to trade for such a delicious fruit?”

Your daughter babbled in confusion, looking up at you for help.

“Did this mean old dragon steal your strawberry, baby?”

Your daughter squirmed and reached out to her father for her fruit.

“Maybe a kiss will appease him?” you suggested and held the baby girl up. You guided her closer to Sylus’ cheek, and in the next instance, your husband received a wet kiss.

“Such a generous trade,” he quipped, and fed his daughter the last piece of strawberry. “I feel like that kiss has earned you a strawberry farm, my little birdie.”

“Well, her first birthday is coming up soon,” you said, humoring him.

“Indeed,” he murmured, looking at you fondly again. “It’s already been nearly a year since she’s arrived…”

You both looked down at the baby girl in your lap, seeing her watching you both with wide-eyed curiosity. You kissed the top of her head. “Do you know how loved you are, our little birdie?”

Your daughter cried out excitedly in response, clapping her hands in glee.

“Thank you for coming into the world.” Sylus leaned down, his cheek nuzzling against his daughter’s before he kissed her cheek, “Thank you for being ours.”

Tag list: @lavlynyan @alfredosaws @solifloris @nezuswritingdesk @valkyyriia @yes-no-maybe-soo @natimiles @yourlocalcatscammer @callilypso @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme @qyuin @sylusfluffymeow @asiaticapple @rainbowsnowflake @littleapplle @animegamerfox @deepspacenova 【 request to be added 】

[post-it-notes7]

so what happens when you take a warrior and a knight out for a nature walk

[ulteri0rm0tives]

It's actually so heartbreaking that in the temperance ending Johnny just.. leaves. Gets all these calls, maybe even texts, from people who don't know the extent of what happened. Who are accusing him, that are mad at him. Especially in the frame of reference that this was V's last wish. That it was V who gave the body up. That it was V who wanted this, wanted to save Johnny, Johnny essentially powerless to stop them ('just scared for ya').

And the thing is.. Johnny just lets everyone. Lets them make their own conclusions, lets them be mad at him. Lets them blame him. Lets them think, that after the love of his life the person who's ever wholly understood or cared about him the most like no other ever could had 'died', that it's his fault, that he could do that to them... Or just lets them think the worst of V as their final lasting impression or mark on this world. Doesn't try to defend himself nor V. He just leaves. Just takes it.

And you would think. You would think the one he would at least tell is Kerry. That the one to actually understand the most would be Kerry. I don't think any of the other love interests could get the whole engram situation like him, they don't have that personal history or connection to the code on the relic like he did after all. Kerry knew Johnny. Enough at least. But Johnny doesn't tell him, and Kerry just thinks V ghosted off on him and Johnny just lets him think that. And it just makes you wonder.. why would Johnny do that? Why would he do any of this?

[mikoworks]

"Always There"

Part 1

Part 2 - You are here

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

@anyamusumesonlywife @omagpies @charasstick @chilchucks-timbs @lesbirae13 @wrpd-nylvm @cecizilla1 @woolzine125 @tctheintrovert @femtanyladdict @nobecausecheese @dldzz

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

Do you ever think of Holmes alone at Baker Street after Watson's marriage and. And. And Watson's things are gone. Watson is gone, and there is just this aching gap around Holmes in the flat. The dust has not yet covered the space on the shelf where Watson's books used to be. Half of Holmes's home is gone, and he cannot even run his finger along the edge of the pain because there will only be one plate on the breakfast table tomorrow (and tomorrow and tomorrow), but you can't cut yourself on empty space.

[breakmeoff]

The Boy Next Door│10

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

warnings: suggestive dialogue, swearing, fluff, secret relationship, hiding, SMUT: unprotected p in v, praise, creative use of panties. MDNI, 18+ only

word count: 4.5k

synopsis: about a month since you last saw each other, you both planned to meet at your families joint father's day celebrations. only problem was that no one knew you two had kept in contact, let alone had entered into a secret relationship.

note: i wanted to take a quick break from the larie's libations event to get this chapter out since it's been plaguing my mind for a couple of weeks now! hope y'all enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it. thx for reading :)

Masterlist

Chris’ right leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.  He didn’t even recognize that it was bouncing, but nonetheless the anxious tic was there.  Seated in one of the comfy armchairs of the living room where his family was currently all huddled together, his eyes were glued to his phone, watching the time like a hawk.

He had arrived at his parents’ house in Sydney late the night before, and spent most of the following day trying to get past the inevitable jet lag and catching up with his family.  

His mom was simply overjoyed to have her first born home, and was quick to ask him what he wanted to eat.  His father greeted Chris with a huge bear hug, and immediately started telling him all about Berry’s new fame on instagram and TikTok.

Hannah hit him on the shoulder lovingly when she walked past him on her way into the kitchen, and he called after her “Nice to see you too, MONSTAH!”  Luke was quieter, but happy to give his big brother a warm side hug, still idolizing him.

Now that the initial excitement had passed, and the family was back to a comfortable banter, Chris’ initial feeling of relief at being home quickly dissipated as the night crept upon them.

“What time did you say the neighbors were coming over?”  He inquired, trying to sound nonchalant, though there was a subtle crack to his voice.

Glancing across to the clock on the wall across the room, Jessica sat up on the overstuffed sectional.  “Oh shoot, any minute. Guess I should go get the snacks ready.”  Pushing herself up to a standing position, she nudged Hannah’s foot with her own, cocking her head towards the kitchen.  “Come help me,” she stated more than asked.

“Muuuuum… I’m a guest here too now,” Hannah whined dramatically, tipping her head back in disgust.  

“Don’t care, C’mon.”

As Hannah grumbled but inevitably followed their mother into the other room, the front doorbell chimed.

“I’ll get it!” Chris yelped, getting up far too quickly to not be weird.  Jack stood up simultaneously and watched his eldest nearly leap towards the front door, “oook…”

Running his fingers through his longer than usual dark hair, he took a deep breath before pulling the door open with a mega-watt smile, only to be greeted immediately by the overzealous teenager from next door.

“Channie!!!!  You ARE home!!!”  Mia exclaimed, launching herself at him, hugging his midsection fiercely.  “Do you have any WolfChan stuff I can have?”

Chuckling nervously, he hugged her back warmly, though his eyes were searching the front porch and beyond for any signs of anyone else.  “Where’s everyone else?”

“Slow…” she said, taking a step back to look up at him.  “About the WolfChan stuff...” Chris nodded his head down to her.  “Yeah, give me a bit and I’ll go look through my things.”

“Don’t let her harass you already,” came the deep voice of your father, a bottle of wine clutched in each hand as he rounded the corner from the front drive, stepping up the stairs.  Right behind him was a shorter figure, heels clacking against the cement and long brown hair swaying behind her.

When your father stepped aside, Chris disappointingly saw your step-mother coming up behind him with a tray of homemade bread between her hands, and a fake, tooth-rotting grin.  “Christopher… look how handsome you are,” she cooed predatorily.

Your father shifted one of the bottles under his arm to free his hand to shake Chris’ warmly.  “Good to see you, been a while.”  Chris nodded, bowing slightly, “it has… Happy early Father’s Day by the way.”

Druzella Your step-mom then handed the bread tray to her husband as she reached out to Chris, cold, thin fingers caressing his cheeks before she leaned in to kiss both sides of his face.  “My my, you just keep getting more attractive every time I see you…”

Chris grimaced awkwardly, his nervous laughter bubbling out as he tried to back away from her grasp.  “Th-thanks…” he stuttered, looking over her shoulder again to see if there were any other signs of life.

Noticing that no one seemed to be waiting for anyone else, your family walked into the house and Chris cautiously closed the door.  “No Y/N?”  He tried to sound disinterested, but was confused since he knew you were coming.

Mia turned her head to look back over to Chris, “her flight was late!  Said she’ll order a ride over when she lands.”

“Ahhh,” Chris nodded, sighing, and then followed the rest of the group further inside.

About an hour or so later, Chris had finished his first glass of wine and everyone filed into the dining room to take a seat for dinner.  Still, no sign of you.  Choosing to sit at one of the ends of the table, he reached for another bottle to fill up his empty glass.

Lucas, always observant, watched his older brother.  “You ok?” He asked quietly.  Chan rarely drank alcohol, so his sudden interest was surprising.

Chris nodded his head, giving a small reassuring smile to his brother. Just as he was about to speak, Berry hopped up from her place near Jack’s feet and began barking, running towards the front door.

Seconds later, you walked into the dining room, and Chris would swear the world stopped spinning.

“Hey all!  Sorry to keep everyone waiting…” you barely got to finish your statement before Mia jumped up from her seat and ran over to you, hugging you tightly around the waist as a loud NOONAAA!! came out of Hannah’s mouth.  Laughing at the boisterous greeting, you flitted your eyes around the room to see everyone happy to see you. 

Finally, spotting Chris at the far end of the room, you saw a softness in his eyes that was definitely out of place for this group of people.  Instantly, you blushed, trying not to allow your gaze to linger on him too long.

“There you are Darlin,” Jessica said warmly, ushering you into the room with a wave of her hand.  “We haven’t started yet, so perfect timing!  And there’s an open spot between Chris and Hannah down there.”

“Thank you Eomeoni,” you said affectionately, leaning down to kiss both her cheek and Jack’s in greeting.  Meandering over to the opposite side of the table where your father and step-mom sat, you bent down to wrap your arms around your father’s shoulders in a tight embrace from behind, kissing him on his cheek as well. 

“Hey Princess,” he smiled, patting your arm in response.  “Hi Appa,” you stood back up, eyes shifting down to your step-mom who barely gave you a half-smile.  

Rolling your eyes, an expression caught by all three Bahng kids who snickered quietly, you made your way to the empty seat between Hannah and Chris, seated at one end of the table, and now Lucas across from you.  “Hey you three…”

Lucas smiled shyly at you, “Hey Noona…”.  Hannah, always outgoing, gave you one exaggerated look up and down, nodding her head in approval.  “Slay, Noona.”  You laughed, jokingly tossing your hair over one shoulder.  “Bet.”  Mia, who sat beside Lucas, groaned at your colloquialism, nearly slamming her face down in the empty plate before her.  “NOOOO NOT AGAIN!!!”

Finally, you shifted to look over at Chris who was more subdued than normal, and unable to take his eyes off of you.  “Hey Chris,” you said warmly, friendly, trying to keep up appearances.

“Good to see you again, Y/N.”  He said quietly, but loud enough for Hannah to look at him with an expression of disgust.  “Ew, Y/N,” she echoed, mocking Chris’ choice of names to address you.  “… you too cool to call her Noona now?”

Chris started stammering, trying to come up with a way to back himself out of it.  “I… I don’t know, she’s not that much older than we are now so it seems weird.”  He shrugged, trying to play it off like no big deal.  You on the other hand, couldn’t help but smirk at his desperate attempt to correct his faux pas.

Jessica chimed in from the opposite end of the table, quietly tutting at her eldest.  “Chris… you know it’s a sign of respect.”  He parted his lips to speak again, likely to apologize, but you put your hand up and shook your head a few times.  “Really, it’s fine, I’m sure Chris still respects me,” you added, turning to look at him with a small laugh.

“I do!,” he replied quickly, “I absolutely do respect her!”

“See?  Problem solved.”  You smiled, trying to appease his mother and nosey siblings.  Luckily, the conversation turned and everyone began speaking amongst themselves, long enough to not notice Chris blushing, and looking at you out of the side of his eye with a devious smirk.  Under the table, you gave his foot a gentle kick, and let the dinner carry on. 

Later, as the main course was finished and the dessert plates were being passed around, Chris subtly reached under the table and let the tips of his fingers lightly brush the side of your hand currently resting in your lap.  Turning your head to look towards him, and then down at his hand, you shifted to put your opposite elbow on the table, resting your chin in your palm as you dropped your hand nearest to him, and interlaced fingers together.

The two of you kept your conversations with the others around the table going, but beneath, your clasped hands shared an intimate moment out of the prying eyes of your families.

Once all of the dishes were put away and the sun had officially set, Jack led the group out to the backyard, lighting a fire in the pit stationed in the center of their garden, with benches and adirondack chairs strewn about.  Mia was distracted with her new WolfChan keychain, snapping pictures of it to send to her friends, while the three Bahng kids reminisced, teasing each other warmly.  

You sat on a bench beside your dad, resting your head on his shoulder as you zoned out, watching the embers in the fire, mesmerized by the crackling of the flames.  Your dad, who previously had been talking with Jack, glanced down at you.  “You ok, Princess?”  

“Yeah, I’m good.  Just tired.”  Pressing a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, he nudged you lightly.  “You know you can go back to the house and relax, right?  We’ll be back over here tomorrow more than likely.”

Out of his periphery, Chris watched the interaction and was desperately waiting for an opportunity to greet you properly, away from everyone else.

Nodding your head slowly, you sat up straighter and tapped your dad’s knee affectionately.  “I think I will, thanks Appa.”  Pushing yourself up to stand, you looked around at everyone and waved both of your hands slowly.  “I’m gonna call it a night, but I’ll see you all tomorrow.”  Turning towards Chris’ parents, you gave a short bow to which they both blew off as unnecessary.  “Thank you for dinner again!”

While everyone else’s eyes were on you, Chris looked down to the glass in his hand, still half full of water and quickly dumped it into the grass beside him, and stood up.  “I’ll walk you out, I need to get another drink anyway.”

Turning to look at Chris, you smirked.  “Sounds good,” and then gave one final wave to the group before you walked back inside the house, Chris not far behind you.

You took a few steps towards the hallway when Chris’ free hand went to the slider door, ensuring it was shut all the way before he put his cup down on the nearest surface he could find, and followed you beyond the view of anyone outside.  

“Finally,” he sighed, closing the space between you, and snaked his fingers through your hair, flattening his hand against the back of your head as he pulled you into a desperate kiss.  You knew it was coming, but still, you hadn’t prepared yourself for how intensely he held you.  His lips moved against yours hungrily, craving every inch of you he could touch and taste.  Leaning into him, you moaned softly against his mouth which only further encouraged him.

Putting a flat palm against his chest, you tried to push him away a little, forehead against his as you tried to catch your breath.  “Chris, someone could come in…”

“Don’t fucking care,” he said, lips melting against yours again briefly, his other hand wrapping possessively around your waist.  “Missed you too much…”

Giving up your resistance temporarily, you wrapped both of your arms around him tightly, breathing in his scent.  “I missed you too.”  You murmured, nuzzling your nose against the warmth of his neck, savoring the stolen moment.

Chris knew where your heart was, but hearing you admit such things out loud always made him catch his breath. He tried to make time stand still, so he could do everything in his power to memorize the feeling of you softening for him, and trusting him.  He never felt luckier than he did in those quiet moments where you let your guard down and let him hold you, physically and emotionally.

The slider door started to creak open, and you both heard a voice calling back out to the group outside, mumbling something about bringing another bottle of wine.  

Immediately, you broke apart and stared at each other, trying to figure out what to do next. Not entirely thinking it through, Chris grabbed your hand and pulled you into the half-bath next to the front door, shutting it quickly behind you both.  He crowded you up to the wooden door, your back now pressed up against it.  One of his hands slid past your hip to turn the lock in the door, and the other brought his index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to remain silent.

You froze, unable to move in fear of making any noise, and not physically able to with Chris standing so close to you.  Hearing the shuffling around in the kitchen, you silently gasped, looking up at him with fear in your eyes.  He furrowed his brows, looking down to you in question.  “I left my bag in the hall,” you mouthed.

Typically that wouldn’t be an issue - you could’ve easily pretended you had gone back next door to your dad’s house, and Chris could’ve claimed he had put himself to bed - or had locked himself in a bathroom.  That wouldn’t have been suspicious at all.  What was though, was the physical evidence that you hadn’t yet left the house.

He had no words, just simply pressed his forehead against yours, silently laughing at your current predicament.   Maybe no one would notice?  

With nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do, Chris placed his palms lightly on your hips, yearning just to touch you in any capacity possible.  Your own hands moved to rest against his forearms, lightly dancing your fingertips up and down the expanse of his strong arms, up to his shoulders and back down again in slow repetition.  Even though being locked in a bathroom was less than ideal, finally, you two had a moment of peace together.

Chris pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, and your eyes fluttered shut, fingertips gripping his arms appreciatively in response to his tenderness.  You stood there in each other’s arms, reveling in the silence for a few long breaths.  Eventually, Chris tilted his head just enough to press a chaste, lingering kiss against your lips.  Then another.  And another.

Your eyes opened slowly to find him gazing down at you, a look of pure adoration in his face.  Sucking in a breath, you inched closer to him and kissed him feverishly, now both of your arms grasping at each other, lips, teeth and tongues clashing together.  

Everything else, the noise in the kitchen, your forgotten bag, both of your families, the notion that someone could find you, all seemed to fade away.  

You carded fingers roughly through his hair, lightly dragging your nails against his scalp, causing him to moan quietly.  Mumbling against his lips, you reminded him “quiet, baby.”  He whispered in reply, “trying.”

Soon enough, Chris readjusted your stances, pulling you away from the door and up against the bathroom vanity.  The room was small, cramped, but if you asked him he still couldn’t be close enough.  Moments later, he gripped the back of your thighs and effortlessly lifted you onto the counter beside the sink, moving to stand right between your now parted legs.

He created a trail of open mouthed kisses starting from the sensitive spot right behind your ear, down the side of your neck, past your collarbone and right down the center of your chest accessible to him by the v-neckline of your dress.  You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, watching him move down your frame so passionately.

Dropping to his knees, Chris used both hands to keep your legs apart, and pressed his full, soft, wet lips against both of your thighs, taking his time to creep further up towards your panty-clad, damp core.  Finally reaching the apex of your legs, he paused, taking in the sight of your pale pink panties, already sheer from your arousal.  “My girl… you’re drenched.”  

Unable to hide the soft whimper escaping your lips, you breathlessly shushed him again.  He heard you, but didn’t acknowledge you.  Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his prominent nose right against the fabric, nuzzling into you lewdly.  “Just like I remember,” he murmured against you, just before extending his tongue and dragging a long stripe up your clothed pussy.

You tipped your head back shamelessly, pressing one of your sandaled feet against his shoulder, hands resting against the cold quartz beneath you.

With another long, broken sigh from Chris, he pulled back just enough to tuck his fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your body and off both feet before discarding it into the sink beside you.  At the sound of his zipper being lowered, you tilted your head back down and saw him standing between your thighs again, his hooded eyes boring into your own.

You parted your lips at the lust-filled look on his face, and then down to his hand, maneuvering his jeans open and freeing himself from his boxer-briefs.  Languidly, he stroked his hand up and down his length a few times before he teased the tip against your silken folds, and then aligned with your wet entrance.  

Pushing the fabric of your dress up over your thighs and bunching it around your waist, Chris tightly placed both hands on your hips and ever-so-slowly sank himself into your warm pussy.  Hissing through his clenched teeth, you silently exhaled a sigh once his hips became flush with yours, and you brought one of your hands to his shoulder, holding onto him to ground yourself.

“Y/N,” he whispered, dragging out the last syllable of your name, steadying himself to pull back out of you.  In this position, and with the glacial pace he had begun, you could feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock.  

All you wanted to do was moan loudly, obscenely, but knew that this wasn’t the time nor place.  Which was why the next time an audible sound was made by Chris, you brought your free hand to cover his parted lips and pressed your forehead against his.  “Shhh, you need to, mmmm… stay quiet...” 

Pinching his eyes shut, he nodded his head with your hand over his mouth and began to increase the pace of his thrusts, fingertips digging into your hips.  You turned to your head to ghost your lips over the shell of his ear, and exhaled a hushed “good boy.”

Chris reflexively, audibly groaned against your hand, his hips faltering their rhythm, falling apart at the quiet praise you breathed into his ear, shuddering between your legs.  You leaned back just enough to look him dead in the eye, and lightly smacked him against the cheek - stunning him momentarily motionless.  

The look on his face darkened even more, if possible, and his fingers dug into your flesh tight enough to bruise just as he increased his tempo, fucking into you more fiercely than before.  The combination of your approving words and then the harsh crack of your palm against his face was dizzying, and he had never been more turned on.

Moving one of his hands to the back of your head, he pulled you closer to him and your mouths moved against each other frantically, desperately fighting for dominance.  Your uneven breath wasn’t silent, but still, Chris couldn’t help himself from eliciting filthy sounds no matter how hard he tried.

With his last falter, your hand blindly reached behind and to the side of you, searching for something to shut him up with. 

Ahh… perfect.  

Pulling back from his swollen lips, and just before he could moan again, you shoved your pale pink panties into his mouth, which had been left agape, as his hips snapped against yours.  Chris blinked, dazed as he tried to register what his teeth were now sinking into. 

And when he realized?

A muffled “fuuuuuuuckkk,” was made through the fabric, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as he dropped his head, forehead against your shoulder.  His movements became erratic, short and shallow, then long and deep, unable to control himself as he swelled inside your tight walls.  

Watching him completely lose himself inside of you was enough to make you clench around him, the big, strong, collected leader he always was - falling apart for no one but you.  It was intoxicating, and the sense of pride you took in knowing you were the one to cause him to break this way was more than you could describe.  

Leaning forward, you wrapped both arms around him and pressed your forehead against his temple as he started to regulate himself again, a light sheen of sweat spreading over his forehead against his hairline.  

Chris wrapped one arm possessively around your waist, tugging you even closer to him as the sound of skin slapping skin started echoing in the small room, and he brought his free hand down between your bodies, dropping his thumb to your clit where he began rubbing slow circles, your breath hitching in response.  Against his skin, you mumbled “don’t stop, j-just like that… gonna cum…” breathlessly.

Clamping his teeth down onto your panties, and a small trail of drool leaked out of the corner of his lips as he concentrated his ministrations on your clit, determined to push you over the edge before he spilled inside of you.  

Not long after, your grip around him tightened and you tensed, your spine straightening and head tipping back, lips parted in a silent cry, digging your heels into his ass as you came violently in his arms.  Your pussy was clenching him like a vice, sucking him further in as you came, and Chris tried to keep rocking his hips into you through your climax, letting you feel every inch and wave of pleasure he could.

Once you started to relax and became more limp against him, Chris’ hands went back to your hips and he dug his fingers into your flesh, roughly fucking himself into you once, twice more before he stilled, balls-deep, and emptied himself steadily inside your still pulsing cunt.

You both stayed there, frozen, breathing unevenly as you came down from your respective highs, limbs tangled together and torsos pressed against each other.  When you felt him take a deep, calming inhale, you leaned back just enough to pinch your panties between two fingers and gently pulled the material, now soaked with his spit and saliva, from his mouth.

Chris lifted his eyes, once again soft, satisfied, smiling shyly to you, stretching his jaw a little as it had been so tense, clamping down to silence himself.  Your fingertips went to the sides of his face and gently began massaging at his tight muscles, helping him relax them again.

Just then, you heard the slider door slam shut again from outside your hiding space, and the voices were no longer present.  You and Chris made eye contact before simultaneously, breathlessly laughing at yourself and your recklessness.  

Reaching for one of the hand towels just to the side of the sink beside you, Chris then turned on the warm water and got the cotton fabric damp.  Reluctantly, after turning off the faucet, he finally pulled himself out of your warmth, and quickly brought the towel between your legs.  Cautiously, lovingly, he took his time cleaning you up before attending to himself, and then tucked himself back into his jeans.

With a deep sigh, he pressed his lips gently to your forehead adoringly.  “Wish you could just stay with me tonight…” he whispered, lips brushing your skin.

“Me too, Romeo… me too,” you admitted quietly.  

Finally, he helped you down off of the counter and smoothed your dress back down over your hips and legs.  “I think you have something of mine,” you whispered teasingly, referencing the panties he had gripped in his hand.

“Oh, these?  No, these belong to me now,” he grinned devilishly, tucking them into his front pocket.  “Souvenir,” he added with a teasing wink.

“Pervert,” you snickered.

“Your pervert,” he replied, kissing you softly.  With one more exhale, he reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze.  “Let me make sure the coast is clear.”

You nodded, standing behind him as he pulled the door open and looked down the hallway in both directions, pausing for any signs of life.

With a simple tug of your hand, he stepped out of the bathroom and you followed him closely behind.  Walking you towards the front door, Chris let go of your hand to bend down and pick up your bag.

You stepped to the front door, and turned to face him, extending your hand to take your luggage from him.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”  You said, still quietly, but not as concerned if anyone were to see you standing and simply talking to him.

“Promise,” he added, handing you your bag before he stepped up to you and kissed you one last time.  He lingered longer than he should’ve, but he couldn’t help himself and the way he was so addicted to you. 

Finally taking a step backward, he opened the door for you and watched you step out.  “Sweet dreams, Sweetheart.” 

You turned to look back at him over your shoulder and winked before stepping off the porch and around the front of the garage, headed back to your childhood home next door.

Chris slowly shut the door once you were out of sight, and waited there, resting his head against the wooden frame as he tried to catch his breath again.

And that’s when he heard the voice, echoing his words, coming from somewhere behind him.  

“Sweetheart?”

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[zephyrchama]

Asmodeus was in a foul mood. The cupcakes he had purchased were eaten by his younger brother. He spent most of the day venting to you, however, his frustration continued to grow. By the end of the school day, Asmodeus had gathered most of his other brothers and declared it time for a good old fashioned gossip session to ease his mind.

"Tell me the worst thing you've ever seen Beel eat," he demanded. "Satan, you go first."

"I saw him wrapping a chunk of mystery meat in bacon and sausage, slathering it with an entire bottle of sauce, then wrapping it in even more bacon and a new bottle of sauce. Over and over, until he had this big meaty rock," Satan explained. He had a faraway look in his eye. "It was too excessive. I couldn't even bring myself to watch him eat it."

"I know what you mean," Leviathan commiserated. "I've seen him devour eleven roasted shadow hogs in one sitting." He shuddered upon recalling the feat of pure gluttony. The image was burned into his mind.

"That's nothin'," Mammon told him. "I watched a train carryin' a boatload of frozen horror cherry pies derail. Beel ate 'em all off the tracks. Every last one. I can still hear him crunchin' on the rocks that got mixed in." He stuck his tongue out and pretended to gag.

Belphegor was next to chime in. "You know what sounded crunchy? This one time, Beel wrapped and ate three live huma—"

Everyone's faces turned pale. Asmodeus rushed to poke him hard in the side, causing Belphegor to yelp to a stop.

There was a lot of nervous side-eyeing in your direction. Mammon had his hands raised like he was going to clamp them over your ears. Satan was rubbing the bridge of his nose to stay calm. Leviathan's mouth was a giant frown, opening and closing like a fish out of water. Things had become incredibly awkward.

Belphegor continued, very slowly, "Three... humongous pizzas."

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Fun concept I've been thinking about is Yan or even just canon sanji with a monster girl gf. But not like. Cutesy. Like straight vampire, scary ass woman that has never been pursued because she's a literal man eating monster and meets sanjis love and just completely floored by his flirting

I'm obsessed with this idea. It's like a gender swapped version on Dracula and Lisa from Castlevania.

Sanji is this ray of sunshine who just wants to feed people and make them happy, and then there is his obscenely powerful vampire wife who will reduce the entire world to ash if anything happens to her beloved golden retriever husband.

Rip to Judge, she WILL eviscerate him for trying to take Sanji away. She won't drink his blood though, she refuses to let anything so vile enter her body like that. Pudding also better back the fuck up because this woman is already on a war path and does not need to be given a reason.

She's happy to have her dear Sanji back when everything is over, but she is also so annoyed and lowkey insulted that he thought she wouldn't be able to help him. Like she already has legions watching over the Baratie to ensure Zeff's wellness. The people Judge sent were already dead. Like be so fucking for real the Vinsmoke's aren't shit against an ancient vampire with a list of connections that makes even the gorosei enviable. But it's okay. Sanji is fortunate that she finds his naivete cute.