#there are ✨plans✨in motion with him

[ofdeedsglorious]

Slowly, slowly, fingers trace the curving red lines on the back of his right hand.

Almost like an abstract representation of a crown, or the hilt of an elaborate sword. There's a heat emanating from the Command Seals, one that could only be intrinsic to the markings themselves. Perhaps it was the mana they contained? Interacting with his own in unique ways.

If it would cause less of a scene he'd ask Fujimaru or Kadoc if theirs were warm to the touch as well.

But then there'd be a whole to-do about who he was contracted to, and Elouan wasn't ready to face that yet. Whoever he was bound to was something private, something he had to accept on his own first and foremost. Then, maybe, if he felt like it... He'd tell the others. For now, with a sigh, he tugs the glove back over his hand and returns to his work.

[asiatic-apple]

you already know i love your sylus works (a big fan) and forgive me if you’ve done it but can i pretty please have smut prompt #17 with female reader for sylus ✨

I was so honored to write this for youuu, my #1 sylus fan!! I hope it's to your liking ❤️ Thank you so much for being here, and I hope the long wait for this was worth it

Proof of ownership

Sylus x female reader

Words: 1.1k

Prompt: seeing the love marks they left on their partner later and getting turned on all over again remembering how it got there in the first place

Content: use of “sweetie” and “kitten” as pet names, maybe too much dirty talking lol, very slightly implied exhibitionism, fingering, possessive sylus

Luke's low snicker is the first thing you hear when you enter the living room of Onychinus's base. You try to ignore it, only sparing him a confused look before returning to whatever you were planning to do before the distracting sound.

Ah, that's right—you came here to grab the hair tie you left on the coffee table yesterday. But your satisfied smile at finding it is quickly wiped away the second Kieran fails to stifle a giggle.

You freeze mid-motion, arms still halfway up after gathering your hair into a messy bun, and glance over your shoulder.

Sure enough, the twins are staring at you—clearly the object of their amusement.

“What?” you ask, already bristling at the way they nudge each other in between chuckles.

Luke shrugs, bringing a hand to the absurd-looking beak of his mask, as if he's hiding a grin. “Nothing,” he sputters, not so convincingly.

Kieran doesn’t even bother trying to lie. “Looks like someone had a fun night,” he drawls.

It takes you a second to register what he means. Then you remember how sore the skin along the junction of your neck and shoulders felt this morning. It was a bit too far in the back to see in a mirror, so you didn't know the extent of what Sylus left there last night.

But now you're putting two and two together.

Heat rushes to your face, your hands flying up to cover the back of your neck, even though it’s far too late for that. Luke and Kieran's snickering fades as you leave in a huff.

With each stomp you take toward Sylus’s bedroom, your embarrassment turns to annoyance before you barge in and shut the door a little harder than intended.

Sylus barely looks up from the book he's reading by the fireplace, but you swear there's a slight tug at his lips as soon as you growl his name. It's like he knew this would happen.

You cross your arms when you stop in front of him. “Would you care to explain why Luke and Kieran were laughing, quite literally behind my back?”

He leaves you in a few seconds of suspense before his deep scarlet eyes lock onto your pouting face. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, sweetie,” he replies, an infuriatingly smug lilt to his voice.

The sudden, gentle push of his Evol at your lower back teeters you off balance—just enough for you to fall forward. Right as you land in Sylus’s lap, he chucks his book to the small table beside him. Now his attention is fully on you.

“Sylus,” you warn, cheeks still warm from a heady combination of mortification and the fact that you’re pressed against him now. “Just how much of a mark did you leave on me last night?”

He hums, nuzzling into your neck with a chuckle. “What’s wrong?” He plants a heated kiss to your skin, presumably atop one of the hickeys he left there. “You don’t like the gift I left for you?”

You should push him away. Really, you should. But then his teeth scrape the spot right where the faintest sting still lingers, and your pussy clenches beneath rapidly dampening cotton.

“Even after I was so meticulous with my…art.” He tuts in faux disappointment. “I assume you still haven’t taken a proper look at it.”

You gasp as he brushes his fingers over the collection of bruises he left, his finger hooking in your shirt collar to tug it a bit further down your shoulder.

At some point between his distracting touches and kisses, his phone ends up in his hand. The ‘click’ of the camera’s shutter makes you groan softly in frustration. But then he turns the screen toward you, letting your eyes land on the picture of your marked up flesh.

The bruises form a rough, messy shape, but it’s deliberate in its composition: a small line, twisting like a snake to form a bold ‘S’.

You give him a pointed look of annoyance. But arousal stirs at the sight of his initial bitten into your skin. He doesn’t miss the flash of lust in your eyes. His canines peek out between curved lips—a wicked smile that only heightens the feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m quite proud of it,” Sylus murmurs before locking his phone and tossing it aside. “It took a lot of restraint not to…stray from the path. You were moaning so sweetly.” His lips return to your neck, tongue flicking out to glide along the marks. “But that just meant you liked it.”

You don’t respond, but the way your hips jerk against his lap betrays you. He chuckles knowingly, dragging his hands down to your waist.

Leaning closer, he whispers in your ear, “And I think you liked getting caught.”

His fingers slowly dip beneath the stretchy waistband of your lounge shorts and then your underwear. You gasp when the rough digits graze your aching clit. But he doesn’t stop the descent until his large hand is cupping your pussy and applying gentle pressure.

“You walked around all day like this,” he whispers, pressing a kiss just below the base of your neck. “With my initial on your skin and this pretty cunt aching for me.”

You barely get out a sound before he slides two fingers inside you, curling expertly until you’re gasping into his chest.

“Are you going to let me do it again, sweetie?” he asks with all the innocence of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Maybe lower, this time. Somewhere they’ll never see. But you’ll feel the sting every time you sit down.”

His thumb rubs against your clit with mind-numbing pressure. Just the right amount to make you moan a bit too loudly. You whimper, rocking against his hand to take his fingers deeper, faster.

He laughs that low, breathy, too-sexy laugh that makes you grit your teeth. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispers. “Hm, such a desperate little thing. Something tells me you’ve been wet all day, haven’t you?”

He circles your clit a bit faster now, and your whole body shudders. His thick fingers feel like heaven when they curl and press just right. And Sylus knows exactly how you like it.

Still, he’s holding back—deliberately denying you the right push to make you fall apart.

“You need to say it properly if you want me to give it to you,” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “Come on. Say you want more evidence of my affection for you, kitten.”

“Yes,” you whine too quickly, “yes—fuck—I want more, please.”

His lips curl into a sly grin as they trail more tender kisses against your neck. He’s gentle for now, aware of how sore this part of your body might be. But you know he’s not making empty threats. After you gush around his fingers, he’ll surely take you to bed and spend more time marking you up elsewhere.

“When I’m done,” he promises softly, “you’ll be dripping with reminders of me.”

Want to be added to my tag list?

💕 tag list: @heartyluv @doeeyes515 @lethalasylum @starryeyed-apple @starlitfics @craeatio @rafayelslittlestar @ruralamours @alyssac9 @blushofeve @alastor-simp @nezuswritingdesk @yoonights @ashirelle @jamfingers @decadentwastelandpoetry @yrdarlingpup @asiaticapple @spidermanlaalalalala @partycityyyyyyy @raendarkfaerie @sweetcalebb @mikenotmic @jenvhae @kaeyasfuturewife @purpleamethyst25 @grapeees16 @pepitesingulare

🐉 tag list: @keiva1000 @terriblesoup @honeybees1991 @mcdepressed290

divider by me :) please do not repost mdni banner by @/cafekitsune

[rawrfrferrari]

Charles leclerc x girlfriend reader at Lorenzo and Charlotte's wedding smau

Best Man, Better Boyfriend | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!Reader

Genre: SMAU, Fluff, angst

[Request and Taglist] [Masterlist]

yourusername

Liked by charlotte2304, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername My best girl is getting married to her best boy 💍 Lolo, my sunshine soul, you deserve every ounce of the magic coming your way. Enzo, thank you for loving her like we all dreamed someone would.

tagged : charlotte2304, lorenzotl

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charlotte2304 I love you so so much, y/nn ❤️

→ yourusername ❤️ u Lolo.

lorenzotl I’m the lucky one 💛 Thank you for this post and for always being by her side.

→ yourusername Enzo 🥺🫶🏽

pascale_leclerc Welcome to the family, ma douce Lottie and Y/n, you're as much family as Charlotte is 🤍✨

→ yourusername Love you, Mama Leclerc 🫶🏽

julia.tolotta So happy to finally have a sister @/charlotte2304. Love you too y/n❤️

→ yourusername ❤️

jasminsprengel My heart is so full! Congrats @/charlotte2304, @/lorenzotl, so happy for you both 🥰

charles_leclerc Most memorable day ❤️

→ yourusername Can I keep Leo?

→ charles_leclerc you can keep anything you want.

yoursisterusername SO HAPPY FOR THEM 😭💍

arthur_leclerc Finally! I was starting to lose hope in Enzo's planning skills 😂

→ yourusername Surprised that you kept the plans a secret. Couldn't be more proud of you 🥺

username1 Now let’s talk bridesmaid dresses 😌

→ yourusername Hell yeah!!

CHARLES'S POV

BOUTIQUE IN MONACO

The small boutique smelled like cedarwood as Y/n walked in with Charles and rest of the wedding party to select from the outfits the bride and groom has chosen fitting the theme.

Y/N stepped out of the fitting room, smoothing down the soft satin of her bridesmaid dress. She chose a blush pink dress that complimented her the best.

Charles looked up from his seat, gaze flickering up and freezing mid-motion. All the other groomsmen were trying out their tux but he wanted to wait for Y/n to choose her dress and match his tie with her.

“You’re staring,” she said, folding her arms, but her voice held no real edge.

Charles blinked like he’d just been smacked out of a trance. “I’m not staring. I'm observing...”

“Right,” Y/N said, drawing out the word. “Because you’re a fashion expert now?”

He stood up then, walking over and making a point to circle her slowly like he was analyzing F1 telemetry. “No. But I know when something fits right.” His voice dropped just slightly, fingers ghosting near her waist, never quite touching. “And that dress fits you right.”

Y/N’s breath caught. Just for a second. “You’ve never said that to anyone else in the wedding party,” she said carefully.

“I’ve never meant it about anyone else in the wedding party.”

She looked at him trying hard to control not to blush. “What about you?” she asked, stepping back. “Got your tux picked?” She awkwardly diverted the topic.

He held up a swatch book, grinning. “My tux fits right. the only thing left to select is my tie.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, flipping through the swatches like she hadn’t already decided an hour ago. “You should match with Arthur.”

“Since we'll be walking down together I think I should match my tie with you,” Charles said, amused.

“You love doing this don't you”

“Yeah,” he said, too soft. Too quick. “I do.”

They both froze. Y/N swallowed. “I meant making the wedding look perfect.”

“Yeah,” Charles echoed, gaze unreadable. “Me too.” She turned away first, pretending to thoughtfully advise other bridesmaids hairstyles on their dresses.

Y/N'S POV

yourusername

CHARLES' HOME, MONACO

The paper bag crinkled loudly as Y/N set it down on Charles’s coffee table, the aroma of green curry and fried rice filling the room like a hug in spice form.

Leo was already circling her ankles, like she'd give him food as well. "You already ate,” Y/N picked him up, laughing as she scratched behind his ears. “You menace.”

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Charles said, appearing from the kitchen with two wine glasses in hand.

“I’m ignoring that,” she said, accepting the bottle anyway.

They sat cross-legged on the couch, digging into the food with quiet satisfaction. It was their fourth date.

Leo eventually settled between them, head on Y/N’s thigh like he’d picked a side. She absentmindedly stroked his fur while stealing the last spring roll.

“You like him more than me,” Charles sighed.

“He doesn’t overthink where to place his elbows when we eat,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes, but his smile lingered. And then, his arm brushed against hers on the cushion. He didn’t pull away this time.

“So,” he started, too casually. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, chewing slowly. “About?”

Charles shifted a little, clearly trying to act cooler than he felt. “The Monaco Grand Prix. It’s in a couple of weeks.”

“I know,” she said, watching him. “I've never missed the home races.”

He laughed, then shook his head, suddenly serious in that open, vulnerable way that always caught her off guard. “ I want you to come as my girlfriend.”

Y/N blinked. Her heart flipped. “You sure?” she asked, voice lower now. “That’s… public.”

Charles nodded. “I’m sure. My whole family is supposed to be there, that includes you.”

She looked at him, then down at Leo, then back at him. “Can I wear red?”

“You’d better.” She leaned back against the couch, smiling into her wine.

Charles smiled wide, boyish, unmistakably relieved. Leo barked once like a stamp of approval before promptly crawling into Y/N’s lap, who kept her wine away and kissed his head.

leclercsupremacy

liked by gridgossip11, wagsofficialtea and others

leclercsupremacy The Leclercs, Charlotte, and Y/N attended Monaco GP race day. Did Charles and Y/N just made it official with the post race kiss?

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f1editsdaily I stalked her, She's already in the family since Lorenzo started dating Charlotte, Pascale and Arthur's comments in her posts are wholesome

lecfosi16 lowkey bold of her to debut at Monaco of all places

itslecrec the way Arthur was carrying her bag???

username1 she’s literally just another influencer 🥱 nextttt

→ leclercsupremacy She's a software engineer and is currently regional development head for Monaco in Google. So, no, not another influencer...

sharles16stan My Roman Empire is Charles looking at her like she’s his whole world.

leclercsangel not y’all mad because he likes a woman with a personality 😭

username2 girl… he held her face when he kissed her. that’s not casual.

wifeofcl Kissing after a P2? Chill. It’s not even a win.

formulababygirl Not the Monaco prince getting his princess moment 😭

f1noir_1 We get it. She’s dating Charles. Can we get back to the actual racing now?

CHARLES' HOME, MONACO

The apartment was too quiet when Charles and Y/n went in after the celebratory dinner. Charles had been dull the whole dinner.

Y/N watched Charles dropping on the couch from the doorway for a moment before she stepped in, gently taking Leo off leash. He sprinted in the room to his toys, as Y/N nudged.

His hands were clenched so tight his knuckles had gone pale. She didn’t speak but moved to sit beside him.

“I had it,” he said after a long time, voice so soft it barely existed. “We had it. And they—”

His jaw clenched. “fucked everything up!”

Y/N swallowed. “P2 is still—”

“It’s not enough.” His voice cracked then. “Not for this. Not for everything I’ve put into this. Not for him.”

For Charles it was not just about the race. It was about his father.

Charles leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. “I’m doing everything I can. I train like a machine. I say the right things. I show up. I fight. And it never feels like it’s enough. I’m not winning. I’m not—” He broke off, shaking his head like the words betrayed him. “I’m not making him proud.”

Y/N reached for his hand, unfolding his fingers one by one until his palm was open in hers.

“Cha,” she whispered, her voice tight, “he’s already proud of you.”

He didn’t look up. “He saw the boy who raced in karting with fire in his eyes and dreams too big for his chest. He saw the boy who got up every time it hurt, who never lost that fight. He saw all of it and he was proud then. Imagine what he’d feel now. Not just of the driver you’ve become, but the man.”

His breath hitched. Y/N kept going, voice steady despite the lump forming in her throat. “Your father isn’t proud of trophies. He’s proud of his boy.”

Charles turned to her slowly, eyes glassy and aching. “Your whole family is very proud of you, mon amor. We love you so much. Even on days like this when you don’t believe in yourself, we believe enough for all of us. You don’t have to earn our pride, Charles. You already have it.”

Tears slipped down his cheek silently, and she caught them with her fingers like they were something sacred.

“I’m tired,” he whispered. “I just… I wanted it so badly. For him. For me.”

“I know, baby” she said, pulling him into her arms, letting him fold into her chest like something crumpling under the weight. “And you will get it. I don’t know when. But I do know that you haven’t failed him. You’ve made him proud a thousand times over. And no fuck-ups can ever take that away.”

They sat like that for a long time. And in the quiet, just above the sound of his breathing against her shoulder, she whispered into his hair “Your dream isn’t over, Cha. And he’s still with you. All of us are."

Maybe that didn’t fix everything. But it was enough for tonight.

yourusername & charlotte2304

liked by charles_leclerc, jasminsprengel and others

yourusername Woman of the hour 🤍✨ @/charlotte2304

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lorenzotl Mon amour 🤍

→ charlotte2304 ma chérie

lorenzotl Thank you for making her feel so loved, Y/N.

→ yourusername 🤍

username1 Team bride !💖

pascale_leclerc so elegant and full of love 💐 truly beautiful, just like you both 🤍

→ yourusername thank you for raising the sweetest fam ❤️

→ charlotte2304 love you, maman 🥹

charlotte2304 still not over this day. not even a little bit. thank you for making everything feel like me. you are the best human I know, Y/nn.

→ yourusername You deserve the best, Lolo 🥺🤍

charles_leclerc Leclerc's best girls ❤️

→ yourusername baby ❤️

julia.tolotta she’s glowinggggg 🕊️💍

username2 The most prettiest bride to be 🤍

username3 The perfect weekend 😍🙌

arthur_leclerc belles-sœurs 🥺🤍

→ yourusername arty 🫶🏽

jasminsprengel 💕💕💕💕💕💕

HOTEL HERMITAGE, MONTE-CARLO

Y/N and the other bridesmaids arrived with Charlotte and took their places next to the groomsmen.

Charles offered Y/N his arm, already waiting just behind the florals framing the start of the aisle. He looked unfairly good in the fitted tux and a soft pink tie that matched her dress exactly. She hadn’t known he’d pick it. But of course he had.

“Ready?” he asked softly, eyes flicking down to hers.

The wedding planner motioned them forward, but for one second, it felt like the world held still.

He held out his arm again, a little more formally this time, and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.

And then they walked down the white petal-strewn aisle, through golden sunlight and hushed gasps, through camera shutters and the scent of blooming jasmine.

Her dress shimmered with every step. His presence was steady beside her, the warmth of his skin brushing hers at the elbow, grounding her.

When they reached the end of the aisle and split to their respective places beside the altar, Charles lingered a second longer than necessary, as if reluctant to let her go.

Charlotte stepped into view at the top of the aisle, everything else blurred. Y/N’s breath caught.

She tried to hold it together. She really did. But as Charlotte’s eyes met hers something inside Y/N cracked wide open.

Tears slipped down her cheeks silently. From the overwhelming wave of love and pride and that strange kind of ache that only comes when you realise someone you adore is stepping into the most beautiful phase of their life.

yourusername

liked by charlotte2304, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername The most magical ‘I do’ I’ve ever witnessed 🕊️💍

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charlotte2304 My maid of honor, my soulmate in glitter and crisis.

→ yourusername Amour 🤍

charles_leclerc We walked the aisle too, no? 😉

→ yourusername Shush 🤭

lorenzotl You’re family, always. Thank you for everything, truly. Couldn’t imagine the day without you.

→ yourusername Beau-frère 🤍

yoursisterusername So wholesome 🥺

username2 Still recovering from the speech. Truly beautiful ❤️

→ yourusername Thank you ☺️

jasminsprengel YOU WERE STUNNING!

username3 MoH of the century award goes to you.

arthur_leclerc Speech game: strong. Cry game: stronger.

→ yourusername 💪🏼

username4 Now we need yours and Charles' wedding ❤️

username5 Oh my god these pictures are sooo pretty🥺

TWO YEARS LATER

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername La Familia ❤️

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charles_leclerc Mon Cherie❤️

→ yourusername mon amour ❤️

charlotte2304 Best Auntie

→ yourusername Best niece 💕

username1 🧿

arthur_leclerc pic credit???

→ yourusername @/charles_leclerc

→ arthur_leclerc 😭

username2 That golden hour glow is criminal

pascale_leclerc My sweet girl 🌸

→ yourusername Mama Bear, ILY 💗

yoursisterusername Baby content, dog content, couple content… overachiever.

→ yourusername Go study for our finals 🙂

username3 Gorgeous ✨️

[mariasont]

not sure if you’re planning to write this, but smut with spencer & bimbo!receptionist!reader would probably fix my problems 😔 i feel like spencer would be praising her nonstop, while also being condescending & i fucking live for that‼️

Undo You - S.R

a/n: i love ur mind anon 😚 i hope this lives up to what you want 🫶🏼🫶🏼✨ thank you for requesting xoxo

anyway i kinda think this is bad bc i didn’t proofread but whatever ill prob go back and edit laters!

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: bimbo reader and spencer doing the nasty

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering, degrading? (not really), spencer being slightly condescending, p in v, unprotected sex (BE BETTER!), creampie (STOP I HATE IT TOO BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO CALL IT?!?!?! TWINKIE?!?!)

wc: 1.3k

Mustering the courage to ask you out was a feat in itself but getting you into his bed was a whole other ballgame. But here you were, fingers roaming through his hair and tracing the contours of his back. You were perfect, and you were in his bed.

The wasn't the first, nor would it be the last if he had anything to do with it. It's hard to fathom his good luck--to have you, breathtaking in every sense, under him, your fingertips gently grazing his waist band as you inch towards his cock.

Your makeup was almost artfully messy, with mascara delicately pooled beneath your lashes, rendering you devastatingly tempting. You had glittering eyeshadow on, and it was getting everywhere. Spencer felt the urge to undo you--to disrupt the pristine image you presented to the world, to make you uniquely his. Selfish? Without a doubt. But that didn't diminish the idea. 

Your hands, with their perfect manicure, were now wrapped around his cock, tugging and pulling as if your palms were sculpted precisely for this purpose. 

You were saying something, your lips a mesmerizing motion as he grasped the sheets beside you, each fistful a concerted effort to remain control.

"What, angel?" He was trying to be patient with you.

You talked a lot in general, but in bed, it only seemed to amplify. This was not a bad thing, not in his eyes, no, it was almost too much of a good thing. Each time your mouth opened and closed with another airy comment he found himself that much closer to spilling his load all over you.

"Your face is really red," you breathed out, nostrils flaring slightly, your eyes averted, engrossed in the sight of his length enclosed between your hands.

He stifled a laugh, resisting the urge to shove his cock into that pretty mouth of yours.

"Well, you see," Spencer starts, pausing as your hand presses to the tip of his length, "when someone is excited...or aroused, blood flow increases to the f-face, causing...vasodilation. It's... it's a sympathetic nervous system response."

"Oh, like when you get all red after running?" You tilt your head in that curious way of yours, your actions uninterrupted as words flowed from you.

"Yes, exactly like that."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you off of him and pressing that same hand to the mattress below him.

"And just like my face gets red, your pupils dilate when you're excited," Spencer explains, his hand poised just above your collarbone, sketching paths on your skin, "It's due to the release of norepinephrine, which is part of your body's fight of flight response."

Your lips were parted, pressing your body into him like you couldn't help yourself, hips squirming under his.

"So, what's the verdict, sweet girl?" Spencer asks, watching your gaze met his, lips parting as he dragged a hand over your clothed heat. "What's your body telling you? Fight of flight?"

You kissed him, gasping into his mouth as he pushed a finger into you. You were drenched. "Is submit an option?"

"That's my girl," he said, feeling his cock tighten even more, as if that were possible, almost moaning at the sight of your dimple being drawn out.

You whined, arching your back against the navy-blue sheets as your hands locked around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. He could smell everything about you from here—your coconut shampoo, your vanilla perfume, your lavender lotion. He wanted to inhale it, to inhale you.

He didn't even bother with your skirt, simply pulling your panties out from under it and lining himself up with your entrance. He watched, enthralled, as your chest rose and fell, holding your breath as you braced for his cock. You were so good for him, too good for him.

One hand clasped against your hip as the other guided his length into you, hissing as you tightened around him. It was a feeling that could never get old, like he was being reborn, like the world was ending and you and him were the only two people left. He would be fine with that.

Your face twisted up in pleasure as you began to rock against him, not giving yourself that chance to adjust. You did this often and it caused him to push down on your hips, stopping your movements. He could come if you kept doing that. He would.

"Patience," he hissed, but you were never one that was good with following orders.

You moved again, tits bouncing up and down your chest as you did. He stifled a groan, meeting your movements with thrusts of his own.

He imagined this is what Buddhists meant when they referred to finding the garden of Nirvana. This was it for him. The ultimate state of liberation and profound peace.

You were a blubbering mess, fingertips clawing down his back, surely to leave marks, but he couldn’t care less.

“Look at you,” he cooed, rutting his cock in and out of you. “You’re awfully quiet. Got something on your mind, baby?”

“N-No,” you stammered, legs wrapping around his waist as your arms went around his neck, clinging to him like a koala, your moans now pressed up against his ear.

“I figured as much.”

Your tits were flush against his chest, his breath stalling as he reached in the limited space between you, thumb circling your clit. Your whines intensified, just as his thrusts did.

“Spencer, please, yes, oh fuck—,” you paused, a gasp releasing from your lips as he felt you unravel on his cock, your wet cunt clenching around him in a way that made his legs shake.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that.” His movements were more desperate now, sloppily slamming into you without mercy. “You’re so fucking good, baby.”

He barely recognized your lips against his ear. “Will you come inside me please?”

That was all it took, those simple words, brushing against his skin and rushing all the way down to his cock. His thrusts slowing as he pumped himself inside you, the sound completely obscene, but it just made him enjoy it that much more.

You were limp against the bed, and Spencer was quick to follow, face finding the crook of his neck as he tried his best not to crush you with his weight.

He could feel your pulse against his lips, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses into your honey induced skin as he waited for you to return back to planet Earth.

He was well aware of the drill, pressing one last kiss to your sweaty forehead before prying himself out of your hands and making a beeline for the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and a glass of water before coming back to the bed, nearly fainting at your tired smile shining at him, at him.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“I really love when you call me that,” you said, almost dreamily as you pushed your tousled hair into the pillow.

He laughed, placing the water on the table and moving your legs so he was between them.

“Gorgeous,” he repeated as he dabbed the towel to your sex, cleaning the mess he made on you. “Do I not call you that enough? Because I can certainly make it a more regular occurrence.”

“Well, I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” you said, giggling as you flinched away from the pressure on your clit.

He pushed your leg down, preventing you from squirming. “Let me clean you up.”

You pouted, and he had the sudden urge to bite your bottom lip. You gave him a salute, giggling before you could even get the words out. “Aye, aye captain.”

He tossed the towel to the side, climbing up your legs as he kissed you, soft and slow, murmuring into your lips, “come here, smart ass.”

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf

[austinbutlerslovers]

The Tape

Label Mature 18+

Summary You love the sound of Austin’s voice ( especially in pleasure) so when he suggests making an intimate tape together, you can hardly contain yourself. 

❤️‍🔥Passtionate Smut ❤️‍🔥 Austin all for you • affectionate •observant • voice kink • plans everything • soft dom• lap sitting• sex on tape • nipple play • clit play • groping• fingering • sweet talk • dirty talk • missionary • doggy style • size kink• orgasm denial • multiple orgasms • simultaneous orgasms• cream pie •aftercare  🔗Masterlist

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine @butdaddyilovehim99 ✨Inspo by request from the lovely @mickeymooooo 💝

The Tape

Austin’s voice is already your weakness. The way he says your name, the deep playfulness of it when he’s teasing you, it’s enough to make you come undone before he even touches you.

You love when he begins sending you voice notes, soft at first, him telling you he misses you, how he can’t wait to see you.

He catches on quickly to the way you like hearing his voice, the way your responses get shorter and breathier when he says things a little slower, a little deeper.

He starts pushing, testing, drawing you in seeing how far he can take it, until one night, his voice note comes in entirely different than the others.

“I was thinking about you,” he says, his voice deep with something darker something heavier, then there’s a pause, a hitch in his breathing . “But you’re not here to take care of it.” He confesses.

Your whole body locks up as you listen to the sounds of him pleasuring himself. His pace, the way he struggles to keep his voice steady as he says your name between ragged breaths.

Your body craves every minute of listening to him pleasing himself, but what really does you in is the sound he makes when he finally comes. His soft little pants and whimpers before he deeply moans your name in pleasure.

That sound wrecks you entirely.

When you tell him how much you love it he immediately confesses he wants to make a sex tape with you, one that you can use to hear and watch him make those sounds forever, and you almost lose it.

���Are you serious?” You ask breathless trying to sound normal with your voice already betraying you.

His smirk is practically audible. “Yes just for you.” He confirms

You bite your lip wanting to know exactly what he’s planning. “You want to make a sex tape, just so I can hear you moan in my ear?” You ask.

Austin hums, but there’s a hunger behind it. “I want to make a sex tape so you can watch what I do as I moan in your ear.” He confirms.

Your whole body feels like you’ve lost strength as you struggle to regain your thoughts, he’s already got you trapped, his seduction, his promises, locking you in like he always does and you have no desire to escape.

“What if I get shy?” You ask, though you know he would never let that happen.

His voice drops and you swear you can feel his breath against your ear. “Once we start, you won’t even remember the camera is there.” He promises, and the certainty in his voice makes your knees press together.

The night you decide to do it, Austin sets up the camera with precision, adjusting the angle like he’s crafting a masterpiece.

With his intimate knowledge of film from acting, he understands exactly how to create a scene, how to capture not just the moment but the intensity.

He’s thought everything through, the perfect position to showcase every heated motion, the lighting that will cast just the right shadows over your skin, and even the little outfit you’ll wear.

You smile when you see what he’s chosen, a delicate black lingerie set, and as you put on the barely-there lace, you feel seductive and sinful.

The lace panties barely skim your hips, the high socks hugging your thighs tight, and the intricate bra with barely any fabric exposes more than enough skin to make him restless.

You step into the bedroom with a teasing smile on your lips and Austin’s arms are crossed, his eyes dark as they trail over you, his mind playing out exactly what he wants to do to you.

He’s in black Calvin Klein boxers, already hard, and you lick your bottom lip, in anticipation.

Without a camera in sight, you scan the room, wondering where he’s placed it, until his voice pulls you back into the moment.

“Come here, baby,” he says, his tone filled with mischief and something darker. “Let me see you.”

His stare is so direct you lose your thoughts for a second, but as he smiles, clearly loving every moment of this, you can’t help but play into his whims.

You step into the bedroom, the soft light casting a golden glow over your curves.

His grip tightens around his firm biceps as he takes you in. “Fuck, you look so good,” he says, uncrossing his arms to beckon you closer.

He lowers to sit on the edge of the bed in anticipation, and you stand in front of him just close enough to let his fingertips graze the edge of your panties.

“Turn for me,” he says, his eyes fixated as his hands slide over the curves of your ass, squeezing possessively.

He hears you sigh, and he hums in satisfaction turning you around and pulling you down to straddle his lap.

“I want to take my time with you,” he says, softly his blue eyes filled with lust, and you nod eagerly as his hands slide up and down your waist before squeezing firmly. He presses his lips to your neck, and his mouth is warm and soothing as he trails kisses along your sensitive skin.

You give in instantly, placing your hands on his shoulders and he brings his face to your chest, breathing you in before licking a slow stripe along the exposed curve of your breast, making you ache inside.

His tongue is soft and teasing, as he looks up at you, and his fingers pull down the front of your bra as he licks each of your nipples entirely.

“You’re so perfect,” he says, his hands sliding lower over your ass, pulling you to lightly grind against his hard aching cock. “You drive me absolutely insane you know that?” he says against your skin.

You whimper, breathless, and kiss him, your body obeying his every command as you grind harder against his cock until he starts to groan, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he rasps, his deep voice sending a shiver through you. He takes your arms and guides you on the bed beneath him, his body pressing you down as his tongue flicks out to meet yours.

He’s eager, greedy, his open-mouthed kisses against yours filled with a hunger that has you gasping, your fingers threading in his hair as you push against him, feeling the hardness of his cock.

His hands grasp and roam your sides, exploring and squeezing until he reaches your hips, pinning them firmly in place.

Your breath catches as he pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyes dark with intent.

“I want to make you feel so good,” he says, his voice smooth as his hand moves lower, pulling his boxers down with slow, agonizing, precision until his large cock slides free.

You stare at it, mesmerized by how thick and heavy it is, the sight only intensified as he wraps his hand around the shaft, stroking it slowly, each pump making your breath catch.

“Austin,” you whisper, breathless, your voice a plea as your hips shift under him, instinctively begging for his touch.

He smirks as his fingers grip the delicate lace of your bra and unclasp it to expose your flushed skin, and you sigh feeling his hands on you again, his palms cupping your breasts as his mouth latches on one, sucking your nipple deeply.

A sharp moan falls from your lips as you arch into him, the wet heat of his mouth sending a rush of pleasure straight through your core.

His tongue flicks against your other nipple, teeth pulling and grazing enough to make your fingers tangle in his hair.

“It feels …so good Austin” you whisper pressing yourself against him, your hips rolling in desperate need of friction, the slick heat between your thighs dragging along his cock, and he groans against your skin, the deep vibration sending another wave of pleasure surging through your core.

“You must be so wet for me,” he says, his hand skimming lower, pressing into the fabric of your panties, his fingers brushing where you’re aching for him the most.

You moan, shifting your hips, silently begging until he finally hooks his fingers into your panties. He slides them down your thighs tossing them aside and presses his fingers against you slick heat, teasing gently, “you’re so ready for me” he breathes, and he pushes them deep inside.

A sharp cry spills from your lips as your head falls back, feeling the pleasure surging through you as the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting becomes louder.

Your thighs tremble as the heat coils deep, his steady rhythm relentless, each curl and stroke igniting sparks that ripple through you, pushing you to the edge.

“You’re so close” he whispers as your walls clench around his fingers, and you nod as you begin to roll your hips. Just as you’re about to come, he stops, leaving you gasping, your cry of despair breaking heavy into the air between you.

His fingers slowly pull out of you, leaving you aching for them, and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You can’t come yet baby,” he says, pressing your swollen clit just enough to make your body jolt. “I want to feel it on me.” he says.

You gasp, hands clinging to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, trying to give him what he wants. “Please,” you softly whisper, and he nudges his cock to your entrance, pushing it in, stretching you all over again as his thumb circles your clit.

Your lips open in soft little cries as he thrusts in you, his chest resting against yours as he slides his hands to hold your legs apart, his cock pressing into a deep sensitive spot that has you clenching tight.

You’re in a haze as your body moves with each precise thrust, your moans turning into high-pitched wails as he keeps hitting the spot, over and over, sending sharp waves of pleasure crashing through your core.

He holds your thighs tighter knowing your about to come, the high socks framing the way your legs quiver, as the wetness between your legs become slick and messy.

His pace increases, pushing you up and down with every firm thrust until you gaze up at him, eyes dazed, lost, every thought erased except for the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

He watches you, his blue eyes dark and heated, his pupils dilated as you come for him, every pant, every whimper, every sound spilling from your lips proof of just how much he’s satisfying you.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, as he slides his hands up your hips, rolling his thrusts into you slow, easing the frantic edge of your need. “You came so good for me,” he says, his voice making your heart flutter as your core throbs deep inside.

You’re weak and breathless as he slips his cock from you, and he takes your waist in his hands and rolls you on your stomach with ease.

His strong grip guides you up, pulling you onto your hands and knees, and your body trembles in anticipation.

“This is all for you,” he says, his voice low and warm as he positions himself behind you, and his fingers tease along your wetness again, sending a shiver up your spine.

Your eyes finally land on the camera in the bookshelf in front of you, It’s red light blinking steadily, the screen flipped so you can watch it capture every detail of Austin fingering you until you’re on the edge of another orgasm.

You begin to moan, ready to climax, and he slips his fingers away, barely giving you time to react before he’s pressing the tip of his hard cock against you.

“Watch what I do to you,” he says, and your hands fist the sheets, gripping tightly as he slides his large cock in, the heat of it sending a sharp pulse racing through your core. The slow, torturous glide makes your whole body tense, and your thighs press together heightening the sensation as you moan in pleasure.

“You feel what you do to me,” he breathes, his cock pushing in deeper before pulling back. “I want to have you all night like this,” he confesses.

His palms carefully settle on your lower back, holding you in place, a firm yet possessive weight as he starts to thrust into you. Your hips lift up instantly, overwhelmed by the fullness, but his hands press firmly on your lower back, pushing you down.

The dominance in the gesture makes your feet kick against the bed, your thighs squeezing together as the intensity of his cock takes over.

“Take it for me,“ he breathes, his voice thick with desire as he buries in until you feel it deep in your core. He watches as you squirm from his size, the fullness causing a throbbing heat to build with every passing second.

He keeps a steady rhythm, the sounds of your wetness filling the room, until at any given moment he thrusts in deep, the force making your body tense as your core throbs in pleasure.

A broken moan spills from your lips, and he groans at the sight of you.

“Look at us,” he encourages, glancing at the camera screen, watching the way you take him. He gives one more firm thrust, making your mouth fall open, your breath stuttering as you moan.

“You look so fucking good like this,” he says, and you tremble with pleasure as he guides your legs wider apart. He begins to really focus, laying his thrusts into you just right, making you feel every ridge and vein as the head of his cock nudges you perfectly.

His thighs press harder on the back of yours, and your moans turn desperate and reckless, your body rocking mercilessly with every firm thrust.

His fingers dig into your back as the pleasure peaks, his palms pressing down, keeping you right where he wants as he angles himself just right, driving his cock repeatedly into that perfect spot deep inside.

You both moan in unison and he begins to climax, his hips pushing faster, his cock twitching harder.

“Fuck, baby, come with me,” he groans, his voice raw with need. He pulls you up against him, one hand cupping your breast, squeezing firmly, while the other slides between your legs, circling your clit with precise pressure.

Your eyes lock onto the camera, watching the screen capture every shudder, every gasp as he drives into you leading you both to the peak of pleasure. A deep, guttural moan falls from his lips as he begins to lose control, his hips stuttering as you feel his cock pulsing hard inside you.

His breaths turn heavy against your ear, desperate wrecked, the sounds breaking between moans,and deep whimpers.

His sounds push you over the edge as you orgasm, your release washing over you in waves as you feel him come deep inside of you, your walls pulsing on his cock at his most pleasurable moment.

He thrusts against you become softer and weaker until he has nothing left. He catches his breath as the pleasure subsides, then he carefully pulls out of you, the slow drag of his cock making you shiver.

A deep, satisfied sigh escapes him as he rests back on his heels, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

One of his hands settles on your hip while the other squeezes the soft flesh of your ass with a satisfied exhale.

“What are we gonna call our sex tape?” he asks, pulling you down on his lap.

“I don’t know ” you pant, your mind still spinning.

He grins, his thumb skimming up your spine, his voice warm against your ear. “What do you think about watching it together until we decide,” he encourages, his voice deep and smooth as he kisses your shoulder.

You look into the camera to meet his eyes as you nod, and you both smile before he turns your face to his, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss.

END 🎥

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List. @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff @laurenmcquilty @louisejoy86 @butlerrizz @kulturalismellektermek

[lyn31]

Hello there, can I request a moment when Zayne and MC are trying to have a child? Like, Zayne would suggest the best time to be intimate, and he will tell MC her body is now producing some hormones, until they finally did it!! I just feel Zayne must know a lot about this stuff, he makes MC and him eat bean sprouts (since it's good for fertility) etc!

Omg yes! I can totally see it! 😂 Him nerding out is my fav! So please enjoy this cute husband of ours ahahahaha Let me know what you think! 💕

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Try for Baby

Summary

When your meticulous husband meets the emotional weight of trying for a baby, love and logic intertwine in a quietly beautiful way.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Fluff, try for baby, husband being cute af, banter, silly, Zayne is such a nerd love him!

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It’s quiet in the kitchen, just the gentle hiss of the kettle and the occasional creak of the wooden floor beneath your socks. Zayne’s at the counter, sleeves rolled past his elbows as he slices strawberries for breakfast. His hair’s still damp from the shower, like the steam couldn’t bear to leave him.

You watch him in silence for a moment, arms folded over your chest. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks now—months, maybe. You just didn’t want to rush it. But the anniversary passed, and the thought lingered heavier than ever. And today, looking at him like this—calm, focused, so incredibly Zayne—you just know.

“I’m ready,” you say softly.

He pauses. Knife mid-slice, one hand still braced on the cutting board. His head tilts just slightly, like he’s making sure he heard right. “Ready?” he repeats, turning to face you.

“For the baby,” you clarify, heart fluttering a little at the words. “If… if you are too.”

The knife hits the board with a quiet thunk as he sets it down, carefully. He doesn’t move for a breath or two—just looks at you like you said something impossible. Then his expression softens into something stunned and warm. “Are you sure?” he asks, voice low. “We still have time. There’s no need to—”

You smile, stepping closer until your hands can press lightly to his chest. “I know,” you say. “But we planned for it to be two years and now it's been two years." You pause, reaching to cup his cheeks.

"I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I wanted to be sure. And now I am. I’m ready—for this. For us.”

Zayne exhales like he’s been holding his breath for months. His arms come around you in one smooth motion, and he presses a quiet kiss into your hair. “Alright,” he murmurs. “Then we’ll do it right. Carefully.”

You laugh. “Carefully?”

“You know what I mean,” he says, dry as ever. “I’ve already been looking into recommended supplements. For both of us.”

Of course he has.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later, you find him in the living room with a medical journal balanced on one knee and a bowl of food on his lap. He’s reading with that same quiet intensity he reserves for patient files—like the words might disappear if he blinks.

You glance at the bowl.

“Are those bean sprouts?” you ask, standing behind the couch.

“Yes,” he says without looking up.

“Plain?”

He nods. “Steamed. No oil.”

You raise a brow. “Zayne.”

"They’re high in zinc and vitamin C,” he says, sounding like he’s reading a textbook. “Both are linked to improved sperm quality. Also antioxidants. It’s a simple intervention.”

You walk around to sit beside him, blinking at the bowl. “You’re seriously eating bean sprouts for—?”

He looks at you, completely composed. “If we’re trying, I’d rather be… efficient.”

You stare.

“I also started taking coenzyme Q10 yesterday,” he adds, like it’s just casual conversation. “And I cut out caffeine.”

You blink again. “You just had coffee two days ago.”

“That was before I finalized the projected timeline for your cycle.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “You made a timeline?”

He pulls out his phone, opens an app, and shows you a perfectly color-coded calendar. “According to the last three months of data—”

“Data?” you interrupt, mouth twitching.

“—your most fertile window starts next Friday. I scheduled a lighter week for myself. Just in case.”

You’re half in awe, half horrified, and entirely in love. “So you're telling me our baby-making schedule is color-coded?”

“Efficiently.”

“And this is the man I married,” you murmur, shaking your head.

“I also bookmarked a few articles on recommended sleep posture and—” He pauses as you drop your face into your hands, laughing. “What?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You say that now, but you'll appreciate the planning later.”

You peek at him through your fingers, voice warm. “I already appreciate you.”

He sets the bowl down, eyes softer now as he leans in. “I just want to do this right,” he says. “For you. For us.”

You kiss him, light and smiling. “You already are.”

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You don’t usually get nervous before having sex with your husband. But tonight has a weight to it. Not in a heavy way—more like a sense of something beginning. You catch yourself fluffing the pillows more than necessary and adjusting the dimmer switch on the bedside lamp three times before you stop yourself.

Zayne notices, of course. He always does. He’s just walked out of the bathroom, towel draped over his shoulders, hair damp, and eyes scanning you like he’s trying to gently calibrate how you’re feeling without asking outright.

“You know,” he says casually, dropping the towel onto a chair, “this isn’t a medical procedure.”

You glance at him over your shoulder. “Says the man who scheduled this evening like a minor surgery.”

His lips twitch. “A well-timed event deserves the proper preparation.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you also sterilize the bed?”

“No. But I did wash the sheets.”

You stare.

“They were due,” he adds mildly.

Laughter slips out before you can stop it, loosening the knot of nerves in your chest. He crosses the room to you, slipping his arms around your waist from behind, his cheek brushing against your temple. His skin is cool from the shower, his touch familiar and grounding.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs.

You nod. “I just... want to get it right too.”

“There’s no ‘right,’” he says gently. “There’s just us. And tonight. That’s enough.”

You lean into him, exhaling slowly. “Even if it doesn’t happen right away?”

“We’ll keep trying. No matter how many bean sprouts I have to eat.”

You snort. “You didn’t even season them.”

“I was being noble.”

“Mm. You looked mildly tortured.”

“I was mildly tortured.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your hands around his wrists as you meet his gaze. “You’re taking this so seriously.”

“Of course I am,” he says, his voice low. “This is our future. Our child. I’ve never wanted anything more.” He hesitates, as if realizing just how much this means to him. "You... mean everything to me."

Your breath hitches. The words land deeper than you expect—like they anchor something in you. Something you didn’t even realize needed to be held.

This is my husband. And God help me—I want to have his children.

Your lips curve. “Okay, you know what,” you say, lightening your tone with a playful smirk, “let’s make this fun.”

Then you push him back onto the bed with no warning, laughing at the surprised sound he makes as he hits the mattress. You swing a leg over him and straddle his waist without hesitation.

His hands instinctively come to rest on your hips, and he looks up at you, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I see.”

“You did say we’d keep trying,” you murmur, leaning down until your nose brushes his, “so let’s try lots.”

That earns a quiet chuckle from him—low, breathy, indulgent.

You kiss him before he can respond. Soft, unhurried, familiar. But there’s something new in it too—a shared anticipation, a bit of mischief. He kisses you back like he already knows he’ll lose track of time tonight.

And honestly? Neither of you mind.

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A few days later, you’re lying on the couch with a warm compress over your stomach when Zayne appears beside you holding his phone and a folded piece of paper.

He sits at the edge of the couch. “Would you like to see a rough calendar of the next two months?”

“…Why?”

“To help us schedule accordingly.”

“You're still on about scheduling our sex?”

He looks up from the paper. “Lovemaking.”

You narrow your eyes. “Zayne.”

“It’s not strange to optimize time. You have appointments in your calendar. This is just another kind of appointment.”

You sit up, exasperated and amused. “That is the least romantic thing you have ever said to me.”

He slides the paper toward you. “I added stars for your fertile days.”

You stare at it. He did. Color-coded, even.

“I’ll allow it,” you say eventually. “But only if you stop calling it an appointment and start calling it a mission.”

He pauses. Then nods. “Mission accepted.”

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Three days later, you find him standing in the kitchen with a mug in hand, staring thoughtfully at the fridge. You’re not sure why—it’s just the weekly meal plan and a crooked magnet shaped like a cat. But you know that look.

That’s the I’ve been thinking too much and pretending I haven’t look.

You wander over and wrap your arms around his waist from behind. “What’s going on in that brain?”

He hums. “Just recalculating.”

“For what, exactly?”

“Our window.”

You pause, cheek against his back. “Zayne.”

“Hm?”

“It's been just over a week.”

“Technically,” he says, in that careful tone he uses when he’s about to weaponize facts, “most studies show it’s optimal to try every two to three days during the fertile period.”

You peek around him, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re saying we’re due for another ‘session’?”

His lips twitch over the rim of his mug. “It would be advisable.”

You snort. “And what would you do if I said I was tired?”

“I’d let you rest,” he says instantly, without hesitation.

“…But you’d look very disappointed.”

“Quietly.”

“You’d suffer nobly.”

“Tragically.”

You laugh, stepping around him to steal a sip from his mug—he lets you, of course. “Okay, fine. Tragic martyr husband deserves another try.”

He sets the mug aside, like that was all the permission he needed.

You’re already walking away, tossing a look over your shoulder. “But no graphs this time.”

“No promises,” he murmurs, following you down the hall with calm, completely not-rushed steps.

You still catch the faint smile he tries to hide.

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Another night, you find him flipping through a research article on male fertility, blue light from his tablet casting faint shadows across his face. He doesn’t even try to hide it when you walk in—just gestures to the bed.

You cross the room, climbing onto the bed beside him. “You know,” you murmur, leaning into his side, “some people find the spontaneity part of this whole process... exciting.”

He glances down at you. “You mean to tell me my schedule charts doesn’t excite you?”

You laugh, muffling it against his chest. “God help me, it kind of does.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, setting the tablet aside. “Then we’re a perfect match.”

You let him pull you closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

Trying doesn’t feel clinical with him. Even with all the planning, the bean sprouts, the careful counting of days—it still feels like falling in love again, just with a shared goal this time. A quiet promise stitched between soft laughter and tangled limbs.

And when the next “optimal window” arrives, Zayne doesn’t make a fuss. He just finds you in the kitchen one evening, gently takes your hand, and murmurs, “Come to bed.”

You smile, knowing exactly what he means—not just the act, but what it carries now.

The door clicks shut behind you, and all the lists and charts fade away.

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You’ve felt… different, but not enough to say anything out loud. Yet he watches you like he already knows. Like he’s just waiting for you to confirm what he suspects.

You lie in bed, wrapped around him as he absentmindedly strokes your hair. Your cheek’s pressed to his chest, and you can hear the slow, steady beat of his heart.

“Do you think we’ll know right away?” you whisper.

He hums. “Possibly. The basal temperature changes. And your mood has been subtly different.”

You lift your head. “Are you saying I’ve been moody?”

“I’m saying you cried over an orange yesterday because it was ‘too perfectly round.’”

“…Okay, that’s fair.”

His lips twitch. “You’ve also been sleeping more. Appetite changes. You mentioned soreness.”

You sigh. “You’re such a doctor.”

He brushes a kiss to your forehead. “I’m your husband.”

And you don’t say it, but those two things—your doctor and your husband—are the most comforting pair of hands you could ever be in.

And whatever happens next, you know you’ll face it together.

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Notes

Argh god, what a cute req and what a cute couple 😩 Where is my future husband at?

You're reading the Pregnancy series! You're at Part 0

Part 0

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 (Smut at the end)

If you're confuse how we got here How it all happen is the start of the Newlyweds series!

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

[callsign-rogueone]

change of plans

Liam Mairi x reader words: 1.6k 🏷: no book spoilers. she/her reader who Imogen calls a "girl" once. technical part three to the spider and one too many, but can be read as a standalone. these two are getting closer to getting together... I'm on hour 22 of this headache, and it made me think... ✨ riders getting migraines from using their signets too much ✨ and our sweet boy just needs to be taken care and cuddled of for once.

“Good morning, soft one.”

You groan, turning over and burying your face in your pillow. “Too early. Come back in an hour.”

She makes a sound like a laugh. “I thought you wouldn’t want to miss breakfast.”

You blink through the sleepiness, realizing how hungry you are. Did you eat dinner last night? How did you get back from the tavern? Maybe that whole thing was just one of those weird dreams you have when you’re a little too tired — you’re still recovering from that terrible virus that had swept through the quadrant earlier this month. But you must have been completely exhausted if you fell asleep still in your daytime clothes. You’re incredibly picky about that — you don’t even like to sit on your bed in anything you’ve worn outside your room.

And why does it smell like… man in here? Oh, gods…

“Yes, this is your own bed,” she says before you can ask. “And no, you didn’t sleep with anyone. Deigh’s boy walked you back here and made sure you were safe. We are in his debt.”

Deigh’s boy… oh, gods, she means Liam.

You still can’t believe that you fell asleep in your flight jacket. How drunk were you? You yawn into a too-long sleeve, pulling it back and inspecting it. Well, that’s definitely the source of the cologne smell. Oh, shit. Is this Liam‘s jacket?

“Indeed it is. I suggest you freshen up before returning it to him.”

You flop down against the pillow again, groaning. 

“I’ve had enough riders to know that you need hot food after a night like that. And coffee. Up you get.”

She’s right. You scrape yourself out of bed, going through the motions of a shower and heading down to the cafeteria for breakfast, Liam’s jacket draped over your arm in case you run into him there. Hot food does indeed make you feel better, but you don’t see him there, nor any of his usual companions.

You’ll try the gym, maybe. A guy as muscled as him has to be spending his weekend mornings training, too. 

You spot Imogen first, taking a breath before you approach her — she’s intimidating as hell. The twin daggers in her hands don’t help.

“Hi. Uh, is Liam around?”

You regret the question instantly as she looks you up and down shamelessly, unamused. You shouldn’t have assumed she’d know where he was — yeah, they’re friends, but not all Tyrrish move in packs. They aren’t really allowed to, outside of the common areas, anyway. 

You’ve always thought that was a bullshit rule. 

She finishes inspecting you, turning her head and yelling for him. “Liam! There’s a pretty girl here to see you!”

You burn with embarrassment, thankful that the gym isn’t too crowded. At least it’s a reassurance that you’ve cleaned up well enough if she called you pretty. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever heard her say. 

Liam appears in a split second, out of breath and a little sweaty as he smiles at you. “Hey! I’m glad you’re okay.”

Imogen leaves before you can thank her, clearly not deeming this conversation worth her time. 

“I wanted to return this,” you begin carefully, “and to thank you for getting me back to my room in one piece, and to apologize for whatever dumb stuff I probably said last night when I was super out of it. I swear that’s never happened before, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Nothing too dumb,” he says, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that tells you otherwise. “And it’s not a problem at all. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You said that already, Deigh reminds him dryly. 

There’s an awkward pause. You rock back and forth on your heels, Liam rubbing the back of his neck — both wondering who should speak next, and what to say. 

He tries something first. “Do you want to study with me for the physics test tomorrow night?”

You weren’t expecting that. 

“Sure,” you squeak. “Meet you after dinner?”

“Sounds good,” he manages, looking like he wasn’t expecting you to say yes.

As if you’d ever decline an invitation to do anything with Liam Mairi. 

You offer him another smile. “Thank you again, really. I’ll get out of your hair now — your friend is waiting,” you excuse, nodding toward Garrick, who stands twenty feet away, looking impatient. He gives you a slick grin from his corner of the room, raising his eyebrows once. 

Maybe his reputation for being a shameless flirt is true.

Liam manages a goodbye, and waits until you’re out of sight to take a whiff of the jacket — it smells like your perfume.

“You’re down so fucking bad, dude,” Garrick laughs, clapping a hand onto the younger boy’s shoulder. “She’s cute, though. Let me know if it doesn’t work out.”

Liam turns to glare at him. 

“I’m kidding,” he says with a grin. “Not about her being cute — she’s a total catch — but I wouldn’t do that to you. Bro code and shit, y’know.”

Liam still looks unamused.

“You should see the look on your face. You wanna hit me soooo bad. Are we gonna fight, or are you saving your energy for later?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

The jacket is dropped rather unceremoniously as Liam lunges forward, intent on tackling Garrick to the ground — easier said than done. 

“Attaboy,” Garrick laughs, pushing back. “Knew that would get you to stop mooning over her and get back to work.”

Liam blinks, realizing that his friend was just messing with him. His moment of hesitation earns him a swift blow to the stomach, winding him. He doubles over, wheezing. “Fuck, Gare! What was that for?”

Xaden laughs from the sidelines. “It was a clean hit. Be glad he chose not to go for the head — don’t want to bust up that cute little nose before your date.”

Liam groans. “Not you, too.”

“Li’s going on a date? Our baby is all grown up,” Bodhi coos, reaching up to pinch his cheek, but his hand is quickly swatted away. 

“Guys, seriously. We’re just studying.”

“That’s what they all say,” Garrick teases. “But physics can turn into anatomy very quickly if you do it right.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Imogen asks. 

“Sounds like someone’s jealous that I have more game than they do.”

The two of them continue their bickering, showing no signs of stopping any time soon, but Bodhi tries to make peace anyway.

“Hey,” Xaden says, touching his brother’s shoulder gently. “She seems nice. I’m happy for you.”

“She’s great. She… she sees past this, y’know,” he says quietly, looking down at his arm. “Most people don’t.”

“Yeah.” Another small silence. “Wanna fight?”

—————————————————————

You know something is wrong as soon as Liam walks in your door — his usual relaxed and cheery demeanor is gone. His bookbag is dragging him down like an anchor, his shoulders slumped. His eyes squeeze shut for a second as he adjusts to the bright mage light of your room, brighter than the dark hallways. 

He visibly relaxes when you wave a hand to dim it; further evidence of your suspicion. 

“Migraine?” you ask softly.

“Migraine,” he confirms, sounding utterly exhausted and a little embarrassed. “I always get them after Carr’s class. Hurts my eyes to use it too much.”

Poor thing.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles. “Know we were supposed to study tonight, but I feel like shit and I probably wouldn’t be good company. Can’t even think right now.”

“You are always excellent company,” you say gently. “But if you just want to lay down for a while, that’s fine. I feel pretty good about the test, anyway.”

He gives you a few slow blinks in response, like he’s wondering if you mean for him to leave and go lay down in his own room, or…

“C’mere,” you offer, patting your leg and scooting down a little to get more comfortable.

He kicks off his boots, shrugs off his jacket, and climbs up with you without hesitation, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your hips with a cute, sleepy sigh, tucking in his legs so that they don’t hang off the bed. 

You bring a hand up to stroke his hair, combing your fingers through the soft blonde strands. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “Feels nice.”

“Did you take medicine? Drink some water?”

He makes a lazy sound of affirmation, muffled by your shirt.

“I’m assuming that’s a yes. I don’t speak mumble,” you tease quietly.

He nods his head yes against your stomach, cuddling into you further with a soft hum.

“Alright, sweet boy. Get some sleep if you can, hm?”

Your hand stills, and he whines softly, complaining that you’d stopped. You shake your head in amusement, starting up again. “Sorry, baby.”

Baby indeed — it must hurt pretty badly for the Liam you know, who’s big and tall and tough, ranked first overall in Emeterrio’s challenges, to be this soft and small, letting someone take care of him. Letting you take care of him.

You feel a little swell of pride that he’s okay being vulnerable with you — you suppose it’s warranted after he’d walked your very inebriated self back home from the tavern two days ago. You can trade embarrassments.

Still, you wish he didn’t have to be in pain to come to you like this, to curl up with you like a fully-grown hound who thinks he’s still a lapdog. It’s adorable.

You stay like this until the sun goes down, petting the soft blonde strands and lightly massaging the base of his neck to relieve the tension, even after he’s sound asleep. When your hand slips from his hair again, it’s because you’ve fallen asleep yourself, comforted by the weight of his body against yours and the slow, deep rhythm of his breathing.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BRUCE WAYNE | BATFAMILY (generalized fanon)

—

Going to Carnival w/ Bruce + some of the other bats (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, established relationship(s), BATMOM, vigilante coordination, fluff, vacation, caribbean setting, civilian shenanigans, dancing, ✨the Fox Family ✨ -caribbean!reader

Mind my choppy ass yanking; it’s the story of my life, just go with it. Pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (Pic source — Batman Vs Robin & Justice League: War DCAMU)

In true Bruce fashion he does extensive research for the occasion. He wants everything to go perfectly and can’t help but to obsess like the Batman he is.

He has to plan every last detail to make sure you have a brilliant time on your trip, obviously, but he also needs to make sure things with the rest of the Bats, Wayne Enterprises, the Justice League, and Arkham and Blackgate facilities will be okay while he’s gone. Gotham cannot fucking explode, implode, none of that shit while he’s on vacation; Bruce would never forgive himself.

Before you leave you give Bruce strict instructions that there is to be no working during your trip unless an emergency comes up. Predominantly - not wanting to disrupt what Dick has going on away from Gotham without good reason - you ask Jason to pull on the cowl for a day or two, to expand his usual patrol route as Red Hood, to keep in active contact with Stephanie (and maybe Kate), and to coordinate more closely with Barbara while Bruce is away.

In return for them picking up Bruce’s slack (more than usual, considering your husband has blind spots in his vigilantism that you are under no delusions about) you promise everyone something.

Steph her first handcrafted silver sterling bangle, Jason some fresh preserved lemongrass (some of which you’ll have to smuggle probably; but Bruce had a private jet for a reason and bringing regional herbs back to the States for his crime lord son, as someone who amounts to a long standing criminal himself, was by far the least illegal thing he’d done ever), to cover Barbara’s shifts as Oracle on coms for a few days while she’s away with the Birds of Prey, and to bring Kate back an island made covah/muumuu (in maroon) for the favor she was doing you.

Kate’s involvement at all is mostly due to her having been in the city by chance as Bruce was setting his vacation plans in motion; her and Luke happening to have just finished up their own mission overseas.

Superman is also aware that Bats is out of the country and is keeping an ear out (though he isn’t supposed to intervene without Jason or Babs asking with the exception of anything catastrophic happening so Superman isn’t indisposed without good reason). Neither you, nor Bruce, had needed to ask him either. Clark had heard all about how much Bruce was driving himself and, as a result, you up the wall for your (much needed in Bruce’s case) vacation from Lois after you’d spent half of Girl’s Night with her, Tanya, and Iris bemoaning your partner’s paranoia.

He’s straight up bemused when he's informed about Batman being “indisposed” for a week, but agrees to look out for the gloomy city while he’s away, and is smirking when he reminds Bruce to try letting that stick go lax for once while he’s in the tropics with you.

Bruce flushes to his ears and you laugh until you start to hack up a lung, hanging off of him as he holds you up by the waist and glares at his best friend. Clark plays dump like a master though, and eventually Bruce just has to grumble about him as you drag him back to the car to finish some last minute planning in Gotham.

Really, far too much work goes into just Bruce alone taking this trip with you. You can’t even imagine the hassle getting the other Bats you're close to down to your island for a visit will be.

You only get stopped by a handful of people during the trip as a whole (mostly visiting Americans), but the majority of people don’t recognize Bruce since he’s Gotham royalty. Because of this he doesn’t have to put on the Brucie persona outside of whatever expensive suite you’re staying in, and he doesn’t have to be Batman during the trip either, which helps him relax significantly better since he can just be Bruce. Like this he gets to be a regular person more than he’d usually get the opportunity to be when spending mundane civilian time as a couple (and as a family) in public.

The moment Damian sees more than two wild dogs Bruce and you have to pull out the ‘no picking up strays’ lecture because even through the rear view mirror you can see the glint in his eyes.

Bruce plans for Damian (and Duke, if he’s able to pull him away) to attend Children’s Parade. If Duke comes he squints at you the second the announcer explains which event exactly he’s at, but you just stare at him right back and remind him that he is a child and that he needs to get up out your face and go do child shit already.

Damian is rather worse, but you lead the group closer to the steelpan players warming up and soon his complaining is drowned out by the beginnings of music. He stops speaking to glower at you and you only raise a brow alongside Bruce before he eventually gives in with a huff. Duke pats him on the back and leads him away to ‘go do child shit’.

Damian likes the parade, even at fourteen he’s not too old for that much despite the clear interest he tries to play off. And while he’s not going to be mystified by the Moko Jumbies (which you didn’t expect him to be) the fourteen year old does fully lock onto them when they come walking by and playing around on their stilts and decked in their colorful clothing and madras.

Cass agrees to come (mostly because she likes you, and also because Duke pouted about it) and ends up loving the majorettes. She follows every single group and cheers within her own limits the entire time.

Cass follows so closely to the steelpan players during their performance that you’re genuinely worried for her eardrums until you glance at Bruce worryingly and he gestures to his ears in explanation. Ear plugs; shed be alright.

Cass (and Luke) leave to go deal with some business that needs her that the Outsiders are dealing with, and instructs you fully to keep Bruce out of the loop until you get back from the trip, poking fun at Bruce before she leaves to go flaunt her expertise.

Duke is disappointed she’s going and that he won’t be able to meet up with the Outsiders again, but when you try nudging him to leave he shoots you down. They didn’t need him, he reasons. Plus, it was rare he ever got a true break from being Signal so he planned on taking advantage of the occasion— and vehemently stomping down the misplaced guilt he was feeling bcs of that with some help from Bruce.

Duke doesn’t tell you, and neither does Damian, but your youngest isn’t as aggrieved as he *thinks* he should be about the break from fighting villains and running around on rooftops that he’s taking either, even more so than Duke right then.

After Cass is gone you guys lose Duke and Dami for a solid three hours. Most every call to them is answered, but only with a cryptic reassurance that they aren’t doing anything illegal. When they finally do come back they keep mum about what they were up to but smell suspiciously of soot.

Bruce fully suspects that they managed to get into the building where the fireworks and pyrotechnics are being kept. You give the boys a stern look but make Bruce let it go since nothing actually managed to go up in flames, and because you’re sure they had a good reason (*cue mom glare*).

Duke might not be your son but he still helps Damian bribe you with some of the foods you haven’t been able to have as authentically in Gotham until you convince Bruce to let them run off again.

Shock of all shocks (not) Damian prefers coconut tarts.

Duke wants to like the pineapple tarts — because it’s “on brand” — but it’s the guava that wins him over.

Unlike his son Bruce is not a fan of any of the tarts, but you’ve long realized that he likes less obtrusive sweet things like banana fritters more.

Damian and Duke at random intervals intercept you and Bruce walking around to inquire about certain murals, art installations, or statues that you’re passing.

Duke also steadily extracts a promise from you to put together a playlist with all the soca music playing around ayo during the parade in it for him to listen to whenever he’s in a music mood. Shazam just wasn’t moving fast enough for him to collect the songs himself while also running around.

By the end of the night (ayo have been out since Carnival started) Duke has his face painted, there’s confetti in his hair, and he’s legitimately ready to go to sleep due to how hard he'd been ramping all over the place. In comparison, Damian’s neck is decorated with beaded necklace after beaded necklace, he’s eaten more tarts than you could keep track of, and is still as ready to conquer the night as ever.

Neither boy particularly likes the fireworks, though Duke is more forgiving since he’s mostly just tired. Bruce likes seeing the way you light up though. While you don’t stay all the way through the show you do stay for a good while because Bruce loves you and wants you to enjoy yourself.

You and Bruce attend Adult’s Parade on your own. Though you’re sure that the boys are getting up to trouble, also running off from where you’re all staying, since you only really have Lucious and Tanya free enough to verbally check up on and keep an eye on Damian and Duke (and their trackers). Lucious had volunteered to keep closer track of their positions during his months long leave — rather than Barbara having to do so when she needed to focus more on coordinating everyone back in Gotham — and Tanya hadn’t minded. It wasn’t like checking in actually stopped her and her husband from doing anything. Bruce promises them a care package anyway.

Bruce wouldn’t really like dancing in the parade circuit or being a part of a troop. He’d much rather prefer the other days of Carnival to attend with you specifically: live concert days, cultural nights, art galleries, and most especially touring any of the island's historical sights.

He’s not as generally excited about the food, but he does love (if you’re inclined) how partial you are to the options presented by all the food vendors and is more than willing to indulge you.

If there’s one available he’ll sign you guys up for a sightseeing relay race as a surprise. How good or bad of a surprise you view the race through your island’s various monuments and beaches depends on you. Honestly, there’s a high chance you didn’t even know they held a race for the event season.

All of these things are just a much more mellow way for Bruce to connect with you and for you both to share in your culture.

He will, however, absolutely not deny you going to dance with a troop at all despite participating in the parade not being his thing. Depending on what you want he either won’t or will come (and if he doesn’t it’s bcs you’ve gone with your friends or whatever), but if he does come Bruce will under no circumstances dance in front of so many people when he’s not having to put on the Brucie persona (which he certainly doesn’t want to put on whilst on vacation).

Mostly Bruce just goes with you but doesn’t dance (it’s hard to follow/track people on the sidelines behind gates and/or between people sitting or standing on the sides of the street to watch the parade).

Mostly lets you dress him begrudgingly. Though he does like matching with you he still isn’t used to being dressed so loudly and inconspicuously.

Bruce is dressed for the weather (only in all red) and wearing shades. His hair is all fluffy without any product in it and he’s wearing fishnets and streams of ribbons that match the ones you’re wearing with your full getup of colorful billowing fabrics, short clothes, and sequin adornments in matching with your troop/section of the parade and the band you’re dancing with.

He’s perfectly happy to hold onto things for you and others if need be and is otherwise not broody or anything. Even just getting him to have a little bounce in his step while walking with you is a win that’s easy to come by.

Bruce is also an absolute sight in fishnets. If the tabloid and gossip mags could see his abs in the colorful sleeveless fishnet “shirt” he’s got on under his short sleeve button up they’d be losing their minds as much as you are. He looks very nice and you tell him as much when you’re pinning and draping streams of colorful madras and printed fabric to the shoulders of his shirt.

In turn Bruce literally pauses mid call, earpiece in, when you come out of the bathroom dressed in your Carnival gear (or outfit, if you’re not a part of a more strict troop). In your shorts and colorful ribbons and ting you’re a vision and he nearly forgets to end his call before crowding you for a kiss.

The ribbons you’re wearing, and that you’ve pinned to Bruce as well, are traditionally reminiscent of maypole ribbons that your forebears had stripped the poles of in order to wear them in celebration of their freedom.

As opposed to wearing comfortable sneakers you’re in the pair of practical combat boots Bruce got you that you’ve decorated to be on theme with the rest of your getup. He is also in those same boots in his own size.

Alternatively, if you’re wearing feathers and an intricate headpiece then Bruce is wearing an approximation of your costume too. He’s still dressed in an expensive pair of board shorts and a linen short sleeve button down, but now he’d be in all black with his only pops of bright colors being from the parts of his outfit that match what you’re wearing. You’re both wearing matching arm/leg bracers & the same feathers you used have been adorned to make a little crown at the back of his head like the one you’re wearing.

Bruce is decked out with jewel accents and sequins too and you're almost shocked at how much he’s indulged you by the time you're finished getting him ready.

To match with the brightly colored boot covers you’re wearing to match the main feathers of your troop’s costumes you give him similarly colored ribbons to tie to the tops of his boots. It’s cute, and you tell Bruce as much just so you can see him blush.

No matter how you’re dressed Bruce stays compliant as you help get him together; letting you talk in circles at his continued prompting about the history steeped into the event you’re getting ready for. His voice is soft as he leads you into explaining the reasons behind the various things you’re decorating him with for the celebration.

Because Bruce isn’t fully matching with the troop he stays at the back of the line (though this does depend on how strict the troop is). You move throughout as you please while dancing and looking uniform with the other women you’re with, but you still gravitate back into Bruce’s orbit intermittently as well.

Bruce absolutely lets you dance on him even though he’s not dancing himself, and he also brings wipes for whenever you drop down to your hands to wukup with your hands to the ground and ass to the air or lose your balance while dancing low to the ground and have to catch yourself.

He loves watching, and he is both happy you’re happy and very eager to get you alone again. You don’t have to hold back or tamp yourself down with Bruce.

If you’re less built for long term walking, or older and been with Bruce for a hot minute, you’re going to end up on Bruce’s back at some point, your knees just aren’t up for the journey the way your spirit is. He’s happy to carry you, and it’s his insistence when he sees you starting to limp or asking for whatever walking aid you might have that gets you hanging off his shoulders in the first place.

You are absolutely no less wutless up there, however, and Bruce only laughs and hikes you up more securely as you cheer and wukup and wine your waist as he’s carrying you. This was a celebration of freedom and emancipation after all, you were going to be as excited and hype as you could possibly be.

From your new vantage point you kiss him on the cheek too and he’s smiling ear to ear the whole time.

When you go to the other events outside of the parades Bruce is more of an active participant.

At concerts Bruce hums. He’s not somehow immune to music or anything, and he tends to hum whenever he lets his mind wander no matter how scarcely he actually allows himself to relax that thoroughly even when you’re back in Gotham. So you’re not shocked when he starts humming while you’re enjoying the live concert music.

When he becomes attuned enough to the rhythms he sways, movements unhurried and gentle, and pulls you closer until you’re both rocking. His arms wrapped around your middle, his warmth at your back, and voice in your ear are a greater balm to your spirit than most anything else on the entire planet and you let Bruce support a lot of your weight as you sing along to the musical acts you're familiar with.

He’s stiff as a board the second you try dragging him into full blown dancing, however. You only laugh at him staring at you like you’re about to announce he’s Batman to the whole of the island, and you know it’s about time you guys find some place to sit down (and hopefully eat) since you’ve been out since daybreak.

Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas, so it is near impossible to get his backside drunk by any normal means. Due to this you don’t really end up drunk either, you just end up feeding him sips of half shots of different flavors of rum and have a blast as he rates them while ayo laugh together and listen to people pound melee around you and eat your dinner.

Come to find out Bruce cannot stand coconut rum. You’re thinking coconut and him just don’t agree, and vow to crack one open fresh so he can try some coconut jelly as the real test of his preference.

Throughout the entire trip Bruce actually likes the tan he develops, no matter how used you both are to his Gotham pallor.

The darker, richer, sheen to the brown plains of your skin that you develop over the course of the trip throws Bruce similarly into a tailspin as his tan does you. He loves it, and your new shine coupled with just how much more radiant your excitement at being back in your element has made you has him calling you all variations of beautiful more often than is even his usual (which is saying something because your husband can’t get enough of you and makes a point of never letting you forget).

You also catch Bruce checking in on everyone’s nighttime activities back in Gotham two days in and can only sigh as you press his computer closed and cock your eyebrow at him. He at least has the sense to look embarrassed, grunting a short excuse before he apologizes. The rest of your trip goes on without a hitch after that, however (as far as you know).

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I’m nervous about this one, I’m not even going to lie, but whatever.

Anyway, I have other characters I want to put in this type of scenario as well so let me know if there’s anything specific you’d maybe like to see. This isn’t all encompassing either, but just what’s come to me by now.

Also, I want to write for the Foxes, but I’ve got to read up on them more before then so it’ll be a while. Also also, we’re going to pretend like all of these characters’ lives are actually stable — and that Tanya in particular doesn’t despise masked vigilantes because I’m allowed to want that (tho that might only be Future State timeline shit so idk).

This fic has a series tag so if you’d like to read the other festival/carnival entries then clicking on that tag would be how you’d find them.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Caribbean words of the Day (ie: the glossary):

“Ayo” (pronounced “īˈyō” 2 syllables) — meaning and use equivalent to “you all” or “y’all”. There’s also a greater origin to where the word as a whole comes from but I’m not going to get into all of that rn.

“Nuh Raas” — I don’t really have a direct translation for this one; the most I can do is compare its use to “like fuck” or “as hell” and other comparative sayings like those. It’s a way to further exaggerate something; think “very”.

EX: “Bruce’s tolerance is very high.” = “Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas.” 🤷🏾‍♀️

“Pound Melee” — the action of gossiping; seriously talking other people’s business or talking shit.

“Wutless” — Meaning ‘troublesome’; a

Caribbean slang, also means to not care profoundly about anything, and just having a hell of a time not caring what anyone says or thinks of you. (def taken from here, though I spelt it differently bcs that how I hear it)

*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the words in this glossary aren’t used by every caribbean*

[demigoddessqueens]

Hello, I loved your types of kisses for dragon age veilguard and I was wondering if you could maybe write some for the companions/advisors of dragon age inquisition? (Solas and Lucanis are my fav romances, what are yours?)

Oh sure!! Yeah I like the inquisition crew (shout out to my Cullen Crew☀️✨💛)

Masterlist 12

Leliana

Sweet but possessive, others may have their wandering eyes set on you but they’re doubtful to face the wrath of the Sister herself whenever she freely kisses you out in the open

Iron Bull

A towering frame over you that makes you feel safe, comes from a warrior culture but is the gentlest and most considerate when he pulls you close; fond of bridal carry as well

Blackwall

All-consuming and loving, completely sappy with the twinge of possessiveness; he is not fond of having to part away from you for the day but makes up for whatever lost minutes or hours with kisses that take up that same time

Cassandra

A warrior’s love with the affection to match, romance may not come easy to her but her types of kisses communicate the feelings well; although she would not be overly fond of the PDA

Cole

Sweet, innocent, fleeting kisses; you catch a shade of pink on his cheeks when he turns his head away but you find it cute for a lack of better words; shy kisses make for good cheek kisses as well

Sera

A bit teasing but still genuinely affectionate; may sometimes try to kiss you in PDA which may warrant more attention than usual

Vivienne

Assertive, denying, longing; you ache to taste her lips against yours again as you linger closer, the trace of her finger along them denies the inevitable as your heart races in your ear

Josephine

Like something out of a stereotypical romance novel; classically romantic and endearing as she has nothing short of compliments in between each one; can’t feel or move her legs because she doesn’t want to tear away from them just yet even if her breath hitches and hair is mussed

Dorian

This is for a Male Inquisitor/Lavellan

The tiniest bit of doubtful but is washed away by a reassurance from his love; kisses as if he is trying to prove something with which you graciously accept because he’s always more than enough

Cullen

Doubtful and shy but smoldering underneath when you come close, tight grips and a fervent urgency behind each one as he reassures himself you’re still there; brings him relief when you reciprocate and holding onto him just a little bit longer too

Varric

A familiar presence, a genuine warmth, an appreciation that melds with your panting lips as you welcome him; he’s faced too many tragedies before today and he is not privy to losing another one such as yourself

Solas

Fleeting, doubtful, a twinge of uncertainty; his plans are given to be set into motion but he feels that twinge with each kiss; maybe you will or will not understand someday but a kiss brings a peace of mind to him. For now.

[zorrasucia]

❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ carmy berzatto pls

Hi Anon! ✨

Of course! This is some established relationship naughtiness at The Bear. I hope you enjoy it! 💜

It was one of the first days of fall, and probably one of the last warm days of the year. And so, you were enjoying the weather: wearing your favorite dress and cleaning your apartment with the window open to let the soft breeze in. Your phone rang, the name on the screen read Sydney 🐻.

"Hi, Syd," you greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, uh," she hesitated, the sound of a hectic kitchen in the background. "Remember you told me I could call you when Carmy was being a pain in the ass? I know it was a joke and, you know, I'm not his babysitter and you're not either. Like, I know that. But, uh-" she had a nervous tone in her voice.

"Syd, it's okay," you reassured her. "It's Saturday, I bet things are insane in the kitchen."

"You have no idea," she let out a nervous chuckle. "I seriously wouldn't even be calling if I-"

Syd was right, that you weren't Carmy's babysitter but you could probably talk some sense into him. Besides, you didn't have work today - and they'd probably give you leftovers for your troubles.

"Hey. I'm on my way," you said. "Don't worry."

"Okay, okay," Syd sighed. "I'll, uh, I'll try to chill in the meantime."

You grabbed your keys and bag... You suddenly had a sinful idea and grinned.

~

You walked through the back door, avoiding servers and chefs, mumbling 'behind' every so often like you'd seen the rest of them do. You could make out Carmy's hoarse voice between all the noise.

"This steak is fucking dead! Refire. Chefs, wake the fuck up!"

"Hey, Carm," you called him.

He turned to look at you, eyes wide and fiery. "What are you doing here?" he rasped.

"Do you have a sec?" you said with a polite smile.

"Not really. I-" he looked disoriented and frantic.

Syd stepped in, looking determined. "I'll handle it. Go."

Carmy led you inside his office, exasperation radiating from him.

"Why are you-?" he started.

"Uh, Syd called," you replied, giving him a knowing look as he closed the door behind you.

"Fuck."

"Yeah. She said you were being a pain in the ass," you leaned on his desk.

"I- uh-" he hesitated, then covered his face, red from the heat of the kitchen but also from anger and shame. "She- she was being nice. I'm being an asshole."

You sat on his desk and sighed. "Thought so."

"Huh?" he tilted his head. You had caught him by surprise.

You gestured for him to come closer, so you could talk softer and look him in the eye.

"Listen, I know it gets super loud in your head, and you get overwhelmed and you lash out," you had seen it happen once or twice. "You need to step down when that happens."

"Syd-" he avoided your gaze. "Yeah, Syd has suggested it."

"So?" you cupped his face and tilted it towards you. "Can you do that? Can you let go for ten minutes and calm the fuck down?"

He blinked hard, stressed.

"I don't know," he confessed after a moment of consideration.

"I think you can, Carm," you encouraged him. Then, you put the second, more inappropriate part of your plan in motion. You grabbed his chef whites, and brought him closer, opening your legs to accommodate him. Then you whispered: "I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you'd like to know."

Carmy stared at you, mouth agape.

"We're in the middle of service-"

"Listen," you gestured at the door. There were no loud bangs or screams, just the normal bustle of a kitchen; if anything it was quieter than when you first entered. "Syd is handling it. The rest of the kitchen is functioning. The sky isn't falling," you grabbed his face with both hands. "Now, will you just fuck me?"

"Shit."

He leaned down to kiss you hard, all tongue and teeth, biting a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer, crossing your ankles behind his waist.

"I need this to be fucking fast," he rasped against your lips.

"I know," you smiled while untying his apron and unbuckling his belt.

The mere indecency of showing up to Carmy's place of work planning to fuck him had made you wet enough to take him that very moment.

"Condoms?" he asked.

You took one out of your bag and handed it to him, palming his cock impatiently through his trousers.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to pull out his cock. He grabbed the back of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of his desk, something feral about him. You bunched up your dress all the way up to your hips, confirming that you were indeed bare under it. Carmy's eyes widened.

"Shit..." his fingers touched your drenched pussy. "You planned this, the whole thing."

You nodded proudly, biting on your lip when he entered you.

"Can't believe you showed up, in the middle of service-" he murmured. "Jesus... To fuck me."

"Desperate times," you touched your forehead to his, his gaze intense. He bottomed out and you covered his mouth to muffle a whine. "See? I think you need it."

That was the tiny push he craved.

He fucked you mercilessly, forceful thrusts while he grabbed your thighs hard, keeping you on the edge of the desk, right where he wanted you. His rhythm was frantic, half out of urgency and half out of anger. You kept your hand on his mouth, silencing the tirade of curses and primal groans he was blurting. Your eyes were on him, breathy pleas leaving your lips.

"Give it to me. It's okay. Please. I need you. Please," you weren't sure if he could actually hear it all but you couldn't stop, not when you were so close to your release. Your pussy tightened around his cock, pulsing.

His grip on you faltered, eyebrows raising as he looked at you for confirmation.

You nodded, eyes half lidded in ecstasy. "Let go, baby. Let go."

He gave you a few desperate thrusts, your palm vibrating with the sound of his moans as he came.

Suddenly, the room felt eerily quiet, the only sounds that mattered were Carmy's panting and your heart's beating. You lowered your hand from his mouth to his chest.

"Shit," he closed his eyes, collecting himself.

"Mhmm," you swayed in your seat, moving his softening cock as you did so. "Better?"

He nodded, a little sheepish. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can't do this every time," you said honestly. The likelihood of you coming to fuck some sense into him on weekdays was low to none. "But why don't you think about this next time you're about to lose it?" you suggested.

"You want me to get hard while running the expo?" he chuckled. His heartbeat was slowing down.

"I mean, if that's what it takes to get you to step down and chill, sure," you teased.

While the idea of Carmy fucking his hand while thinking of you was appealing, it seemed a little impractical to do at the restaurant.

"Might just take a smoke break," he offered. "Save the fucking for when I get home."

"Deal," you kissed him and tapped his cheek gently. "Now, come on, get out there."

He got dressed and ready at a dizzying speed, taking time to rearrange your dress and kiss you one last time before returning to the kitchen. He left the door ajar, and you peeked just in time to see him give an apologetic nod to Syd and ask her to continue running the expo. It was a start. You were satisfied.

[jellyvibes710]

PART 3

Previous

Next

(Previous bonus part)

TW: dead animal

blood (if you look really fucking hard)

Glitchy effects (I tried to go easy on it to avoid straining your eyes too much)

Enjoy!! :D

To all those wondering where Leo was, here he is! An he’s sure been busy

@abbeyofcyn lookie lookie, it’s done! I’ve been trying new things too, like angles and perspective✨

This takes place about a day later around 3:30am, so he’s had plenty of time to himself to put his plans in motion >:3c

I’m so excited for what’s to come heheheee

I got a little Carried away with the details in this part but it was so worth it. I tried typing the words on this part and immediately gave up because it was irritating, everyone is stuck with my crappy handwriting forever

Anywizzle, here’s Leo’s character sheet :D

Don’t mind the boxes, they aren’t important

…yet.

I decided to remove the torn suit jacket so that Leo would pop out more and not get lost in the background (ended up adding the yellow/orange glow to avoid the same thing with Donnie) and to also really draw your eyes to him because well, he is the center of attention ✨

Off to the next part!

[sweatyracoon]

i need to get this off my chest..

could i request a seungmin x reader where she just marks up his chest cause.. seungchest supremacy… (add any storyline leading up to it)

SEUNGCHEST SEUNGCHEST SEUNGCHEST

✨Seungchest Supremacy ✨

A/n: Girl- 🫠the things he made me feel when I saw these photos; him in that tank top?!? I literally died. I believe in Seungchest Supremacy 🫡

Warnings: biting, licking, marking, hickeys, MDNI, language, clingy reader, etc

When you watched the video he sent you of him at the Chanel ad, you nearly choked.

Though you had both been together for nearly a year, you had never been intimate. Nor had he ever bothered wearing a tank top. But the new Skz code showed you just how beautiful he had gotten.

And the Chanel ad? You nearly started foaming at the mouth at the sight of your boyfriend.

His neatly cut hair just made him seem more mature, accentuating his features, his gaze sharper.

You watched the Christmas video at least a million times before he texted you he was headed back home.

You counted the hours you had until you saw him again, hoping he was still wearing that beautiful outfit that showed off more than your used to.

Despite it being a suit, you saw that if he bent down, you could see the chest you've been dying to claim.

Yes...you had a but of a marking kink, and Seungmin knew that, but neither of you explored it, thinking it would cross boundaries.

You have never had sex, but light make out sessions were a must.

It was four am, but you were wide awake. You heard the lock click from your seat on the couch, the door creaking open slowly.

He must have thought you were asleep, because he left his bag by the door,.and walked towards your shared room.

"Minnie?" Your voice made him jump and spin towards the couch.

"Baby? Why are you up?" He asked softly, pulling his hat from his head.

You were disappointed to see him in a sweater and a pair of shorts, but he still looked as handsome as ever.

"Wanted to see you..." You muttered back as he grabbed your hand, motioning for you to stand.

You obeyed, and he led you to the bedroom.

"Here, I'm just gonna take a quick shower, okay? Then I'm all yours," he grinned, sitting you in the plush blankets.

"Do you need to? Its been two weeks," you playfully whine, making him laugh.

God, his laugh was like music to you. You wanted to hear it forever.

"Yes, babe. The plane was all stuffy, and I'm sweaty. Just give me five minutes, okay?" He was already grabbing his sleep clothes, noticing the t shirt in his hand.

"Hey, Min?" You stopped him, coming up with a plan. He looked at you.

"I think I'm going to run the heater tonight. You should wear a tank top so you don't burn," you shifted, waiting for his answer.

All he did was nod and replace the clothing in his hands for something cooler, and you internally celebrated when he grabbed his black tank top.

When the door shut behind him, you squirmed with joy, making the bed to get comfortable.

You had the pillows set up a certain way since you were sleeping by yourself for the longest time, but now you move them so you can sleep with your boyfriend.

As promised, five minutes passed, and he emerged from the connecting bathroom red. Hot shower.

A towel wrapped around his head as he scrubbed it against his scalp, making sure it wasn't soaking the pillows, or you.

When he lifted his head from the cloth, you gasped.

His hair stuck to his forehead, shiny under the lighting of your lamp. His facial expression made you clench your thighs together. He tilted his head back with a long sigh.

"I needed that," he groaned, popping his neck.

You finally brought your eyes down to his sleepwear. A black tank, and plaid bottoms.

You have seen his arms before, wearing the same tank top. But that was a year ago before he started going to the gym with the guys.

Now he filled it out, his chest slightly larger, and his shoulders broad and muscly.

You nearly drooled.

"And I need you! Now get in bed!" You giggled, watching as he threw the towel to the side of the bed with a smile.

He climbed up against you, kissing your forehead.

"Someone's needy," he smirked, lying down next to you.

"Always," you respond, making his face flush slightly.

"So, I just want to let you know, that that outfit for your Christmas ad? Fucking hot, Min. Did you bring it home?" You started, tracing patterns onto his hare shoulder.

He choked on air, not used to you swearing.

"What? No-" he cleared his throat. He never handled compliments well. "I-It was a part of their collection. Couldn't take it," He got quiet towards the end, making you smile.

But he didn't acknowledge your compliment.

"Didn't you hear me Seung?" You lifted your head.

"Yes...?" He looked up at you confused. The patterns on his shoulder stopped.

"What did I say then?" You challenge, your face serious.

You wanted him to know just what he did to you. How good he looked. You know he doesn't believe that he looks good, that he isn't as liked as you think. But you wanted to show him.

"That you liked the outfit?" He replied, tilting his head.

He reminded you of a lost puppy.

"Your missing an important part, Min. That you were hot...ARE hot. Wanna hear what my favorite part was?" You leaned down, your hair falling to frame his face.

"I-What? Uhm," he licked his lips. "What was, y/n?" He couldn't look away from you, your body nearly on top of his, filling his senses.

"You've never been one to show off, you know? But recently, your showing more. That outfit did very little to cover your chest. Anytime you moved a certain way, I could see into your suit, Minnie. God! Why show it off to stay before me?" You groaned, resting your chin in his collar bone.

His breathing had gotten heavier as he listened to your pleading words, slightly aroused by your stern tone.

"I never knew you wanted to see my chest that bad. You could've just asked," he muttered, eyes shutting as his cheeks reddened.

You lifted your head again, your lips hovering over his.

"Could I have?"

He was quiet. You both knew that you wouldn't have asked. But he would have given you anything you wanted. Will give you anything you want.

The only reason why you two hadn't had sex is because he wasn't sure if you wanted to. He would never have asked because he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

You smiled, leaning in to capture his lips. It was slow, but gradually became more heated as the seconds passed, your body heat fusing with his, your breaths mingling. You pushed your tongue into his mouth,.moaning at the chance to taste him again.

He gripped your hips, grounding himself. He had always loved kissing you. It sent him into a whole new world. He would call it heaven if it made sense.

You pulled away, making him whine.

"Let me see your chest? I'll show you just how much I like it," you waggle your brows, giving him the choice. It was up to him. He sat the pace.

Without a word, he brought his had to the hem, slowly dragging it up his torso, giving you a show.

You sat patiently, enjoying the slow reveal of his beautiful body.

He had a light ab silhouette, making your eyes widen. You didn't know he had abs?! You wanted to lick them, but you stopped yourself. You'll get there later.

Once he brought it over the peak of his chest, he rested the fabric on his collar bones, moving his hand back to his side.

"This okay, baby?" You asked as you brought your head down to his torso, your breath hitting his heated skin.

He nodded. "Please," he whispered, and that was all you need to hear.

Above his left peck, you latched on, sucking gently before sucking harder. You grazed your teeth against his skin, and the sound he made made your eyes roll back.

He whimpered, his eyes shutting from the pleasure. You didn't know he was sensitive here.

You moved all around the nipple, avoiding it on purpose, trying to get a reaction. All you'd get was light moans and whines, but that was enough for you. Any sound of his like these you could listen to forever.

After leaving many marks, you finally brought your hot mouth to his nipple, and flicking the bud with your tongue.

His back arched in the bed, a loud moan eliciting from him. It made you grin against him, nipping lightly at him. He groaned, his hand coming up to fist your hair.

He didn't pull, but held you. It was feather light, and you knew he didn't want to hurt you.

You switched sides, your hand stimulating the one you just sucked, his head turning to the side as he sobbed from the overstimulation. His moan grew louder, his hips jolting up into the air. You looked in your peripheral, his thighs shaking as he dug his heels into the bed.

He's gonna cum, you realized, joy surging through you.

This will be the first time you ever make him cum, and just from marking his chest? Definitely an ego boost.

You go back to focusing on your sweet boyfriend, licking a long stripe from one nipple to the next, constantly switch so each one gets more sensitive.

"Y/n! Please..." He begged, making you pause for just a second to think.

Then you go back to it, sucking harder, but this time, letting your elbow brush against his clothed cock.

You barely touched him, but his head shot back, moaning louder as his hips twitched, his abs convulsing underneath your arm.

He came!

You lift yourself off his chest with a loud 'pop', drool coating your chin as you watched your boyfriend come down from his high.

His lidded eyes looked at you, his face and neck tinted red.

"That felt so good, baby," he mumbled, jaw numb from being open that long.

"You have a sensitive chest, Min. It's cute," you tease, pecking his lips before laying down beside him once again.

"If I knew, I would have told you. Thank you," He said before grabbing your hand, and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss.

"Your welcome. Believe me now?" You twist so your fully facing him.

"Yes..." He was still breathing heavy,.but it was more normal. He flashed you a loving smile before sitting up. "I'm going to change real quick, okay?"

He left to put on a t shirt and a pair of shorts, but you didn't mind. You got what you wanted, and even so, you can't deny the fact he looks good in a shirt.

"I love you, y/n," he kissed your nose after he got comfortable next to you.

"I love you too, Seungmin," You smile before cuddling against him.

[harrywavycurly]

Worst Mob Boss Ever: Book Club

Part 1: Here

A/N: I wasn’t planning on a part 2 but here we are because I got hit with inspiration, so enjoy✨

CW: Language, mentions of Harry’s “job”, mentions of past violent acts (broken nose), multiple “threats” of violence towards one person.

Tag List: @mema10 @angeldavis777 @outofthisworl-d @howling-wolf97 @umadirectioner @fangirl509east

Summary: Harry joins you for book club and it doesn’t go the way he imagined it would ✨

“They aren’t going to let you in dressed like that.” You warn the tall green eyed man who is standing next to you holding your slippers outside the parked car that’s currently in a driveway of a house he’s never been to before. Harry quirks a brow as he looks down at his suit, not sure why his attire would keep him from being able to enjoy an evening discussing a subpar romance novel. You shake your head and give Mitch a glare as you grab your backpack off the floor of your car. “You better bring it back with a full tank or I’m kicking your ass.” Your brother just rolls his eyes as he watches you sling a strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Just call me when it’s done.” You just nod and go to close the door. “And uh tell Sydney I said-” You close the door on him before he can finish his sentence making him laugh as you shoot him the bird before turning and facing the house.

“May I ask what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ignore Harry as you make your way up the path that leads to the front door of your bestfriend’s house. “Do they have an issue with Gucci or something?” He asks as he follows closely behind you while Mitch begins to back out of the driveway so he can go run the errands he needed to borrow your car for.

“I told you this is a cozy book club meaning you can’t just show up in a suit and honestly no one gives a shit if it’s Gucci or not.” You explain to him as you take the pair of slippers out of his hands that you made him hold for you while you got the rest of your stuff from the car.

“If I take the jacket off and roll up the sleeves it can give cozy vibes.” He offers making you roll your eyes because both of you know that nothing will make his suit look cozy.

“Just don’t embarrass me this-” Harry’s attention moves from you to the front door of the house as it swings open revealing someone he hasn’t seen in months, dressed in a matching pink and white stripped pajama set and white slippers.

“What the actual fuck is Harry Styles doing on my front porch?” You look at Morgan and then over your shoulder to Harry who looks more amused than annoyed or even shocked at her question.

“Good to see you too Morgan.” He greets your bestfriend with a smile making her cross her arms over her chest as she glares at him.

“I must have died and gone to hell because there is no way this is actually happening.” You raise an eyebrow at her as you try to ever remember her ever mentioning knowing Harry but you come up empty as the two of them just stare at one another.

“Uh how do you know him?” You ask making Morgan finally acknowledge you and you could laugh at how her face changes from a scowl to a soft smile as soon as her eyes meet your, but then she lets out an annoyed huff as she looks away from you so she can go back to glaring at the man behind you.

“That’s my cousin’s old boss. I met him at a holiday party a year or so ago.” Harry can’t help but feel his jaw clench as she motions at him with one of her red acrylic nails, not liking the tone she’s using at all. “He’s an asshole and-”

“I’m an asshole? Your cousin was the asshole or did you forget the reason why he no longer works for me?”

“So he borrowed some money-”

“I didn’t know stealing was the same thing as borrowing?”

“He paid it back.”

“Yeah after I broke his nose and threatened to beak his kneecaps with a crowbar.” Your eyes go wide as Harry tells Morgan what he did to her cousin as if it’s the most casual conversation he’s had all day. But to your surprise all Morgan does is place her hands on her hips and narrow her eyes at him while Harry just stands there unbothered.

“Oh please as if you ever do anything yourself you had Frank do it for you.” She snaps at him making Harry let out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief that of all the people in this city you could be friends with you somehow manage to pick someone who can’t stand him and all because he fired her cousin for stealing from him. And if Harry’s being honest she’s lucky her cousin is even still breathing but he’d never voice that out loud to her since she’s already looking at him like she wants to strangle him with her barehands.

“Frank? You think I sent Frank to deal with your idiot cousin? I wouldn’t trust him with my coffee order.” You feel like you’ve been standing on Morgan’s front porch for an hour when in reality it’s only been a few minutes but you decide in this moment you’ve heard enough and just want to go inside and change out of your work uniform.

“I’m going to go change while the two of you finish catching up.” Morgan looks at you and smiles as she moves to the side giving you enough space to walk through her front door, leaving her alone with Harry on the porch.

“Listen Morgan I’m not here to talk about your cousin or work I’m just here for book club.” Harry’s voice is calm and controlled, it doesn’t hold a single bit of the annoyance he has bubbling inside of him right now as he watches you enter the house and turn down a hallway so you’re no longer in his line of sight. Doing his best to hide the fact he doesn’t enjoy not being able to see you, he is willing to say whatever he needs in order to get inside the house.

“Fine but you’re not stepping a foot inside my house until you explain why you’re here with my bestfriend who doesn’t have anything to do with you or your business.” Harry can tell by her voice that she’s serious, she would make him sit outside on the porch all night until he gave her the details she’s looking for so he just nods before running a hand through his hair.

“I got into her car thinking it was mine and now here we are.” Morgan gives him a look that lets him know she isn’t buying a single word he’s saying.

“You got into her car thinking it was yours? Why because it’s a big black suv?” Morgan furrows her brows as Harry lets out an annoyed sigh and just shrugs in response making her roll her eyes. “God you’re such a narcissist.”

“So I’ve been told.” He says with a smirk as he remembers a very similar conversation he had with you earlier.

“You can’t come in dressed like that.” Morgan states as she eyes his suit and Harry for a moment considers just using your phone so he can call Eric to come get him but he really wants to see what this book club is all about since you were willing to risk your life by threatening his head of security just to get to it on time.

“Sorry I missed the memo that went over the dress code but this is all I have.” He explains making Morgan rub her lips together as she contemplates several options in her head, and when she finally gives Harry a smirk he knows he’s not going to like what she’s about to tell him.

“Fine just lose the jacket and you have to wear slippers.”

“I don’t wear slippers.”

“Then you don’t come inside.” Morgan watches Harry run a hand over his face as he lets out a sigh of defeat before looking at her and motioning towards the front door.

“Fine lead the way then.” She smiles and turns around to lead him into the house. “Just please don’t make them fuzzy.”

You walk out of Morgan’s bedroom finally feeling a bit more relaxed now that you’re out of your work clothes and in your gray sweat-shorts and pink t shirt, you smile as you walk down the hall and can hear the sound of Sydney’s voice. When you turn to go into the living room you feel like you just entered a weird alternate universe because Harry is sitting on the couch with his sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows, his suit jacket hung over the armrest of the couch, a pair of red and white fuzzy slippers with hearts all over them on his feet that are propped up on Morgan’s ottoman and a glass of wine in his hand. You look over to his left and see Sydney sitting next to him with her back against the armrest so she’s facing him with her wine glass clutched in both hand as her eyes go wide with a wild kind of excitement at something he just said.

“Wait you like-you can do that?” Sydney asks making Harry just nod in response as he takes a sip of his wine while you walk over to the loveseat across from the couch.

“He can do what?” You ask making Harry’s eyes travel across the room until they find yours and you ignore the small flutter your heart does when he gives you a smile as if he hasn’t seen you in ages when it’s just been ten minutes.

“He can beat up Johnny for me.” Sydney answers with an excitement you haven’t heard from her ever since her ex, Johnny cheated on her a few weeks ago.

“I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself.” He’s looking at you as he speaks and you roll your eyes as you lean over to grab the bottle of wine off the coffee table so you can pour yourself some but Harry is quicker than you so he beats you to it. Placing his own glass down on the coffee table, he picks up the bottle of white wine and an empty glass. “You’re quite scary when you’re annoyed so I can’t image how terrifying you could be to someone who really pissed you off.” He adds as he holds the full glass of wine out for you to take, an annoying grin on his face.

“She tried but he-” Sydney begins but then pauses to take a sip of wine.

“He what?” All the lightheartedness leaves Harry’s voice as he turns to look at Sydney and she swallows the sip of wine in her mouth before she turns to look at you which makes Harry follow her gaze, his green eyes a shade darker as they stare into yours. You want to laugh at how serious he is but you don’t, you oddly find it kind of nice knowing he seems upset at the mere idea of someone doing anything to you.

“He called the cops on me.” You answer for Sydney with a chuckle as you lean back into the cushions of the loveseat, doing your best to get comfortable.

“That’s because Johnny is a little bitch who was scared shitless the moment he saw you pull up into his driveway with that baseball bat.” You roll your eyes as Morgan explains what happened as she walks into the living room and places a tray of snacks down on the coffee table. Harry can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face as he imagines you in a fit of rage pulling up to someone’s house holding a baseball bat.

“Well he sure didn’t seem scared when I used it to smash his windshield. Seemed more angry than anything.” Harry takes a moment to look around the living room, as far as book clubs go he feels like it’s on the smaller side since it’s only the three of you and then him but he also for some reason feels the same way he does when he enters a meeting that’s just with his top men. So he can’t even stop himself before he says what comes to his mind next.

“Are you lot in a gang? Is that what this book club is actually for? Just a cover up for your meetings to discus who needs to be met with a baseball bat in their driveway?” All three of you look at him with playful glares making him just quirk a brow when Morgan takes a sip of her wine and looks away from him first so she can go into the kitchen to grab some napkins.

“Do you not have friends Harry? Because not every group of friends that are willing to go to jail for each other is a gang.” Sydney asks as she reaches over and gently places a hand on Harry’s knee and you have to rub your lips together to keep the laugh inside when you watch her give his knee a nice reassuring pat. “If you don’t that’s fine you’re like a big deal so-”

“Don’t feed his ego please he’s actually the worst mob boss ever he doesn’t even have a phone.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“I have a phone I just don’t have it on me right now.”

“What? So how do your uhm people know where you’re at?”

“I had to-”

“He called his security guy on my phone.”

“Oh is he cute? This security guy?”

“He had a nice phone voice.” You answer with a shrug before taking a sip of your wine while Harry has to bite his tongue to keep him from saying the worst things about Eric just to keep your friend away from him and for you to want to take back the thing about his nice phone voice. “His name is Eric.”

“Eric? Oh I know Eric. He’s your type Syd.” Morgan states as she places the napkins down and finally takes her spot next to you with her wine glass, she gives Sydney a playful wink making her let out a laugh.

“You can do better than Eric he’s not the best when it comes to dating someone.”

“I didn’t say I was tying to date him Harry.” Sydney mumbles as she takes her hand off his knee making you lean your head back and laugh when you see Harry close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his free hand as the realization of what Sydney actually means hits him.

“Well I have no comment on how he performs in that department.” He answers as he brings his wine glass up to his lips to take a rather large sip.

“But seriously you’d like-like really have someone beat Johnny up for me?” Sydney asks shyly as if she doesn’t fully believe that Harry has the connections or the time to deal with her ex boyfriend who he doesn’t even know. You look at Morgan because she’s the only other person in the room that knows what Harry does for a living and the type of people he’s associated with, she’s already looking at you and playfully wiggles her eyebrows as she sips her wine.

“Syd he could have Johnny more than just beat up.” Morgan says as she looks away from you and over to the girl who is now looking at Harry with a suspicious expression on her face. “He could have him swimming with the fishes if you know what I mean.” Sydney’s eyes go wide while Harry as usual looks completely unbothered as he turns his head so he can look at the girl who now seems a bit concerned with how close she’s sitting to him now that she knows what he’s capable of.

“The term is swimming with the fishes.” Harry corrects with a gentle smile while still looking at Sydney, Morgan just lets out a huff as she leans over to grab an apple slice from the snack tray on the coffee table. “And while yes I could make that happen I don’t really think it would be necessary in this situation.” You watch in amusement as Sydney stares at Harry with a hand clutching her chest and the other holding onto her wine glass for dear life.

“Okay well what would you do to him then?” You ask out of pure curiosity because you want to know what sort of punishment he thinks is fitting for Johnny, hoping it’s nothing too disturbing since he’s already mentioned to you how he has cars blown up with people he doesn’t like or sees as a threat as if it’s no big deal.

“Well in situations like these death is too nice so you simply make them wish for death just so the torture can end.” Harry doesn’t want to come off too harsh or make any of the girls in the room fear him, especially you so he does his best to make his tone soft and gentle even if the words are far from either of those things. But given how Morgan’s mouth is slightly hung open and Sydney’s eyebrows are almost raised so high they are hitting her hairline he would say his method didn’t work as well as he intended.

“Holy shit.”

“Did you-you say torture?”

“Jesus Harry you can’t talk about torturing someone so badly they beg for death while wearing fuzzy slippers at a spicy book club meeting.” Your words have Harry looking down at his feet and immediately rolling his eyes at the horrendous slippers that Morgan forced him to wear just so he could gain entry to her house.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“You’d be willing to do that? For me?” Everyone’s heads turn to look at Sydney, Harry feels an anger beginning to burn inside of him as Sydney looks at him with eyes that tell him she’s not used to people being so willing to do things for her let alone have someone hurt on her behalf and he knows it’s because no one has treated her the way she deserves.

“It’s the least I could do for you love.” He answers making a small blush creep its way onto her cheeks. “And if I’m being honest I wouldn’t really be doing it for you. I’d be doing it for myself because he just sounds like someone who needs to be taught a lesson or two on how to treat someone.” If there’s one thing Harry truly hates it’s men who don’t know how to treat their partners and this Johnny fellow doesn’t even know he just earned himself a spot on Harry’s shit list.

“So you’d handle it personally then?” Morgan asks with a quirked brow because she knows Harry almost never gets his hands dirty anymore unless he’s given no other choice.

“Yes I’d do it myself just like I did with your cousin.” Harry says as he glances at Morgan and gives her a look that tells her he’s not lying, he really is the one who broke her cousin’s nose.

“As long as you’re the one doing it I’m fine with it.” Sydney states nonchalantly as she leans over to grab a cracker off the snack tray.

“I do have one condition though.” He says with a smug like smile on his face as his attention shifts from Morgan over to you.

“A condition? You don’t get to negotiate something you offered to do in the first place Harry. How are you an actual mob boss? You really are the worst.” You argue as you glare at him making that annoying grin spread across his face, the one that makes his dimple appear and the butterflies to go off in your tummy.

“You have to agree to go to dinner with me next week.” You feel your eyes go wide as your mouth drops open while Morgan and Sydney stare at Harry with equally just as shocked expressions.

“Oh fuck off Harry I’ve already been held hostage by you in my own car and now you want to trap me into going to dinner with you just so you’ll beat up Johnny? You’ve lost your mind.”

“I haven’t lost anything. I’m just going off that old saying of if you’re good at something don’t do it for free.”

“We aren’t offering up our friend as payment for you to almost kill someone Harry. Don’t be fucking gross.” Morgan says in your defense but Harry doesn’t pay her any attention, his eyes still set on yours as he waits for your answer.

“Yeah Harry you’re acting like one of those poorly written romance novel mafia bosses who kidnap the girl they like and force them into a weird marriage and we are very much anti forced anything around here.” Sydney adds making both you and Morgan giggle as her worlds become a bit jumbled towards the end due to the fact she tries to take a sip of wine while still speaking.

“I’m not forcing her into anything she can say no and that would be fine.” You bite your bottom lip as Harry stares at you.

You let out a long sigh before you take a sip of wine to help calm your nerves as you contemplate your options, you know Harry is involved in a world you’ve only really read about or watched movies depicting the violence that takes place in it but you also know there’s a subtle softness to him. Because even now the man is at a book club drinking shitty wine and wearing slippers all so he could spend the rest of the evening with you. Once you’ve made your choice you lean over and place your glass on the table before crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him.

“I’m not going to dinner with you until after you do whatever it is you’re going to do to Johnny.” You counter his original offer making him narrow his eyes at you a bit clearly not expecting you to be try to negotiate with him.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to argue with me about it or anything?”

“Nope.” His answer makes you raise an eyebrow because it’s a bit unnerving how quickly he accepted your offer. “If you try to flake out on me I know where to find you.” He adds as a gentle reminder that he knows where you work and what kind of car you drive. While Harry is busy looking at you he doesn’t notice Sydney’s hand coming up to smack him upside the head causing his eyes to narrow as he turns and gives her a harsh glare but she doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered by it as she’s also glaring at him.

“You can’t threaten her while also asking her out on a date Harry god you are the fucking worst at this.” You have to bring a hand up to cover your mouth so your laughter doesn’t spread throughout the room as Sydney lets Harry have it. “Like seriously learn some manners.” She adds with a huff as she gets comfortable on her side of the couch.

“See what I mean? Worst mob boss ever.” You say with a laugh making Harry roll his eyes as he turns his attention back to you.

“Are we going to actually discuss the book or just sit here and give Harry a list of people we need him to hurt for us?” Morgan asks as she motions to the book in question that’s sitting next to the snack tray on the coffee table.

“For every name you add to the list it’s another dinner she has to go to with me.” He explains knowing it will make you all huffy and annoyed, something he’s coming to enjoy even though he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help that he likes the way your eyes get this little glimmer in them when you look at him while frustrated with something he’s said or done.

“So the book it is then.” You answer for everyone making Harry chuckle as you reach for your copy that has your bookmark on the page you left off at, deciding for the rest of the girls that one dinner with Harry is all you’re willing to do at this point. So when they both just nod and grab their own books you let out a small sigh of relief because you know deep down that the more time you spend with Harry the more you’ll probably end up enjoying it and you can’t have that because who wants to enjoy the company of the worst mob boss ever? Certainly not you.

[cherie-doll]

Hey Cherie!! It’s been so long hehe I hope you’re well 💖

Can I request a How the COD men reacts when their s/o was called a nasty name like ‘stupid cunt’? Once again projecting myself a bit here, I always regret being stunned and not punching that idiot in the face 🙂‍↕️🫠

Hope you stay happy and blithe and healthy ✨✨

May you forever stay cheerful as well, my beloved <3

Speech like this just comes off as extremely repulsive and obscene to me and I feel deeply for anyone who's had to deal with this. I won't go into detail but just know whoever is reading that it deals with this sort of theme and please just scroll or avoid if you want.

𓏴𓏴 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves

Price

He does not let that fly in this base

Doesn't care if he gets called prude or mocked for not allowing it, he'd rather there be respect

Basic decency is something that is quite literally the bare minimum for soldiers

No way will he let you be dragged around with that filthy speech especially not when you're his s/o

He lets you know he'd gladly deal with it himself but you manage and tell him you'd like to take care of it

Ghost

He's not foreign to vulgar words or foul language but he isn't okay with it when it's used to degrade someone

He's heard it in public before but never has it been directed to you, seriously what was that guy thinking? That he could just say it in passing to you on the street and walk away like it was nothing?

Maybe he hadn't seen your tall masked boyfriend until he stopped and turned, heading to them and the look on their face

Eyes as big as saucers as Simon planned to rearrange their face

Soap

Quick, fiery temper strikes faster than a cobra

He's at their neck in an instant, trapping them in a death grip and staring daggers into them

He doesn't care that people are staring or that he could get the police called because he's shouting threats

And his anger won't subside afterwards, it leaves a stale feeling that has him crossing his arms and serious for the rest of the day

It had gotten him all riled up for the rest of the day that he's on the lookout for anyone else looking to insult you

Gaz

You've almost never seen Kyle get mad

Oh but he was furious, fire raging within him, knowing he was really about to do something when his jaw set hard and he went real silent

He didn't make a commotion, didn't shout or yell, just silently made his way over and took care of the problem

You didn't get to see what he did to the guy because he somehow made sure you didn't, and he wouldn't tell you either when you asked

Instead choosing to distract you with something else

Roach

He's not a fan of foul language and hates hearing it used even more but being around others so much he can't really avoid it

But the sentence that some idiot had the audacity to say to your face shocked him

How could they?

How much hatred could be within them that they're letting such words carelessly slip from their tongue?

He's worried about how you're feeling more than anything so he'll take you away before anything else could happen because he doesn't want you to show it hurt

Alejandro

Marking their grave as we speak

Don't be surprised if you see him already loading a gun

Oh boy, it's gonna be difficult to get him to calm down

He's cursing and throwing profanities much worse to the other person that they're already backing away fearing for their life

It would actually weigh down on him for a while and will get raging mad whenever he remembers

Rudy

Covering your ears immediately and glaring at the person who said that to you

He motions for someone else to take care of them while he asks if you're okay

Probably doesn't matter if you say yes or no, he focuses on not letting you dwell on those words

You're not those things and never will be, such words shouldn't be said to anyone else

And what do they know? He's shaking his head and sighing, doesn't know what to do with the anger

Phillip Graves

Yeah he allows cursing, hell he curses up a storm himself but this??

This is just unacceptable

This is the lowest form of using language incorrectly, the use of such words is as sickening as rotten food, can't imagine how much worse you would feel when it's said to your face

He's made sure to instill manners in his Shadows and he'll even send one home no matter how useful or great their skills are, but not everyone has had that great education and will freely no- carelessly use their speech for worse

Getting ready to drop a bomb on them or plan a quiet murder

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 26 - Tiefling!Yunho + Predator/Prey

@bangmechann Said: Yunho as a tiefling with consensual prey? A/n: This one turned out a lot more playful than I had intended lmaoo I think this is one of the first ones where the banner is like 😈🔥⛓🏴‍☠️🖤💀 but the content is like 💖☺️🌷🔫💟✨ idk, I thought it was fun! Tiefling Yunho is just a giant puppy dog... Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Possession, Monster Features Word Count: 1,729 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

“Little Mouse,” A deep chuckle reverberates against the cold stone walls. “You know it’s futile to try and escape me.”

Amused lips quirk upwards in the corners. “It’s cute how you think I should be the one afraid of you.”

“Brave words coming from such a measly little human.” Yunho chuckles, his voice echoing around the ruins you’ve chosen to play this little game in.

“Watch it,” You warn, eyes narrowing slightly, “Or else this ‘measly little human’ is gonna walk their fine ass out of here.”

A head peeks around a broken wall, a small pout adorning his features. His hands curl around the stone, curved horns glinting beneath the light of the setting sun. Subtly, his eyebrows furrow upwards in concern.

“Sorry, Baby.”

A light puff of laughter escapes you, waving him off with your hand. Silently, you assure him it’s fine, motioning for the two of you to get on with your game.

He disappears back around the corner, and you both count to ten. After all, it’s no fun hunting the other if you know exactly where they’ve been hiding.

Moving quickly through the ruins, you find a new starting position. Yunho already has an advantage over you, being what he is, but you’ve lived with supernaturals long enough to know how to get around their heightened senses. Besides, he told you he would play fair, and you believe him.

This isn’t your first time engaging in this type of sport.

The damp earth is soft beneath your feet as you creep along a tattered stone wall. The area you’ve chosen is a particularly favourite spot of yours, hidden deep within the forest. The ruins of the old mill continue to crumble to this day, but the intricate way the rubble shapes itself leads to wonderful hiding spots. The crumpled building acts as a small maze, the surrounding trees the barrier to your impromptu arena.

Pressing your back against a stone wall, you rest just beside what used to be an open archway. You can hear the stream rushing in the background, and the soft sound of birds tittering in the trees above. A gentle breeze floats through the leaves, rustling as a few scattered raindrops fall from their green holders.

Straining your ears, you search for any signs of your lover.

Calming your breathing is easy, and you begin to pick out movement that wasn’t there before.

A footstep here. 

The snapping of a twig there.

Wherever he is, he’s moving closer, and you’ll be damned if you let him win this time.

Slipping your hand into your back pocket, you pull out a small object. Tightening your fingers around the handle, you prepare yourself for what you’re about to do. Everything has to be perfect, otherwise all of your meticulous planning will be for naught.

It’s time you had him at your mercy, instead of the other way around.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” His gentle voice cuts through your thoughts.

Whipping your head towards the sound, you begin stalking closer to him. The corner of your lips quirks upwards, internally chuckling at the sudden one-eighty he seems to have done. Then again, Yunho can hardly ever go a day without complimenting you at least three times. 

It’s sweet, and you wouldn’t want him any other way. So, you decide to use this to your advantage.

“Hmmm, I don’t think you have.” You hum, keeping your voice low as you continue creeping through the ruins. “Have I told you how handsome you look with your horns out?”

A soft, giddy giggle sounds from your left.

“Should I keep them out longer, then?”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see a shadow dart by.

“Well, that depends.”

“On?” His inquiry is eager, voice drawling out from behind the ruins of a tattered staircase.

Slowly, you inch closer, weapon at the ready.

“Do you want me to jump your bones every time I see you?”

Another giddy giggle echoes around the stones, causing your brow to quirk.

“Oh? Does My Baby like that idea?” You grin to yourself, catching a glimpse of his soft brown hair as you slowly begin to climb the remaining stairs. “Knowing I can’t keep my hands to myself when I see him? Or how about how much I love holding onto those glorious horns while I fuck his face?”

You swear a low moan escapes him.

“I thought you said we weren’t allowed to play dirty.” His voice drops, a gravelly rumble that fills the area and goes straight to your core.

“But Darling,” You coo, eyes glinting as you stand over him on the steps. “You should know by now that if I’m going to get down and dirty, it will only ever be with you.”

A sharp inhale is given by the half-demon below, and you use this opportunity to strike. 

Letting out a gleeful cry of victory you jump down from your spot. You raise your weapon to strike, grin stretching wide across your features. Only, the moment your feet land on the soft earth, your ankle decides to give out beneath you.

“Jesus- fuck!” The words escape you as you go tumbling to the ground, arms splayed out before you.

A boisterous laugh sounds from behind you as you spit a mixture of dirt and leaves from your mouth.

“Blech!” You stick your tongue out, wiping at your mud covered clothes after pushing yourself upwards and into a sitting position.

“Are you alright?” The comforting hand of your boyfriend places itself gently upon your back, rubbing lightly as he soothes you. Still, there is no mistaking the laughter that clings to his words.

“Oh, now you want to check on me?” You huff, giving him a dramatic pout. You turn away from him playfully, crossing your arms over your chest as his jaw drops. “No, no, it’s fine!”

Another chuckle escapes him, a tender gleam in his dark eyes as he kneels beside you. His one hand continues to stroke over your upper back while the other gently places his toy water gun onto the ground.

“You almost had me.” He hums, checking you over for any serious injuries. When he finds none, the breath of relief he lets out is audible, even to you.

Your brow quirks, and you have to restrain yourself from letting a devious grin stretch onto your features.

“Who said the game was over?”

In the blink of an eye, you’re rolling out of his touch. Before he has a chance to react, you grab his water gun from the ground, pointing it directly at his head. Now armed with two of the same weapons, you laugh maniacally as you relentlessly pull the triggers.

The moment the water hits Yunho’s face, he recoils slightly backwards. His eyes are closed, lips pulled into a line as his shoulders deflate. A sigh of amusement escapes him, shaking his head as you continue to squirt water into his face.

After a few more moments filled with your victorious laughter, you lower your weapons.

Bringing a hand up to his face, Yunho wipes the water from his skin. Shaking his now damp bangs out, he blinks his eyes open.

“I got you good!” You cheer, wiggling happily in your spot.

Yunho can only chuckle at the ear-splitting grin that has stretched across your features. “You got me good.”

“You should have seen your face!” You tease lightheartedly. “Bet you didn’t think I could sneak up on you like that.”

“Maybe I let you sneak up on me.” He hums, almost knowingly.

You snort out a laugh. “Don’t kid yourself, Babe.”

He shakes his head in amusement, small droplets of water continuing to drip down his skin.

“You know,” He quirks a brow, tongue darting out over his lips, “This isn’t the typical way I enjoy getting wet.”

Your eyes go wide, lips parting slightly in disbelief at the sudden dark look in his eyes. A moment later and you manage to calm yourself, a knowing smirk pulling at your features. You watch as he pushes himself to his feet, brushing off the dirt on his knees before walking over and offering you his hand.

“Well then, my good sir,” You grin, taking his hand into your own. “How do you enjoy getting soaked?”

A low, pleased growl rumbles out from his chest as he pulls you back onto your feet. Only, he doesn’t let you go, opting to tug you right into his awaiting arms. Dark eyes stare at you with nothing but loving desire, his hand splaying over your lower back.

The feeling of his claws teasing at the hem of your shirt has a shiver rushing down your spine.

“I could tell you.” He hums, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. Gently, his thumb traces over your bottom lip, admiring you openly as the last rays of the golden sun filter through the trees. “But I think I’d rather show you.”

With those words, Yunho is scooping you into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder. A wide grin settles onto his features, hand cupping your ass as another pleased rumble shakes his chest. The way you let out a little squeak as he smacks your ass is simply icing on the cake.

“Yunho!” You squeal, wiggling slightly in his grip as giggles escape you. “Put me down!”

“Oh, I’ll put you down eventually.” He nuzzles his cheek against your hip, squeezing your ass appreciatively. “There’s a nice fire waiting for us in the hearth back at the cabin, begging to bathe your skin in its amber glow. Perhaps even some nice wine…”

You hum, ceasing your playful attempts to wiggle out of his grip. “Keep talking.”

“Soft blankets, some fairy lights,” He continues. “And just for you, an eager half-demon who wants you to grip onto his horns as he buries his face into that delectable cunt of yours.”

A pleasant shiver runs up your spine, and you practically melt into his arms. “I can commit to that.”

“Good. I am but a humble servant to your pleasure right now, and I never want you to forget that, Darling.” He chuckles lowly, his hand caressing over your ass as he walks closer and closer to your shared home. “Tonight, you’re in charge.”

[lyn31]

Well that was close

Summary

A moment of heat, a sudden interruption, and a desperate scramble to keep a secret under wraps—just barely.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader College AU, mature, playful, banter, interruption/almost getting caught, short one shot.

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The door shuts behind you with a quiet click as you step into Zayne’s dorm, the weight of the afternoon settling in. It’s been a long day—lectures, note-taking, barely resisting the urge to sleep through the most boring professor in existence—but now, you’re here. And so is Zayne.

He tosses his bag onto his desk, already reaching for his books. Predictable.

You, however? You have other priorities.

Zayne barely has time to pull out a chair before your arms slide around his waist from behind, pressing your body flush against his. Warm. Even with the slight chill of his skin, you can still sense the subtle warmth beneath.

“You’re not really about to start studying, are you?” you murmur, lips brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

Zayne exhales, already weary, though you catch the subtle way his fingers tense around the book. “That was the plan.”

You hum, letting your hands wander a little—fingertips tracing the hem of his sweater, slipping just underneath. His stomach flinches at your touch, and you feel him take a sharp breath.

“We just got back from class,” he says, voice dipping lower.

“Mhm.” You press closer, lips grazing the edge of his jaw. “So?”

The book shuts in his hand.

Zayne turns, a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze—something that sends a sharp thrill down your spine.

“So,” he echoes, voice even, “you’re really insistent on making my life difficult.”

You grin. “Always.”

And that’s all it takes.

Zayne’s mouth finds yours in a claiming kiss, heat surging between you in an instant. He maneuvers you toward the bed with precise movements, barely breaking contact. Clothes come off in rushed, impatient motions—sweaters, jeans, until all that’s left is the press of bare skin and the way he fits perfectly against you.

His weight pins you to the mattress, grounding you as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. His lips map a slow descent—over your throat, your collarbone���each touch leaving heat in its wake. His hand drifts lower, guiding your hips as he pushes forward, a sharp gasp spilling from your lips at the stretch, the slow, intoxicating slide of him sinking into you—

Knock. Knock.

"RA check!"

The sound slams into your skull like a gunshot.

For half a second, you’re frozen—so is Zayne. He’s still inside you, still hovering just above, his chest rising and falling against yours.

And then, at the exact same time, you both react.

Shit.

You shove at him, and Zayne, caught off guard, nearly topples over the edge of the bed. Sheer panic sets in. Clothes? Where? Everything is everywhere. The room is a crime scene. Zayne’s still half-naked, and you—oh god, butt naked—

"Give me a moment," Zayne calls out, voice so stiff that it almost sounds forced.

The RA doesn’t answer, but you can feel them standing there, waiting.

Zayne is halfway to his feet, hastily yanking on his pants, while you dive for your hoodie, slipping it on over your head with panicked urgency. The bed is a disaster, pillows askew, sheets very obviously disturbed.

"Where’s my—" You start to ask, but then you see it.

Your underwear.

On the floor. In plain sight.

You lunge for it, stuffing it under the pillow just as Zayne reaches the door. His shirt is only half buttoned, his hair an absolute wreck—but there’s no time.

You hear the door unlock, followed by the creak of it opening.

The RA stands there, arms crossed, scanning the room with a slow, calculating gaze.

It’s silent.

Then...

“…Huh.” The RA squints. “This place looks… occupied.”

Your pulse spikes. Judging by their expression, they probably thought someone was doing drugs—until their gaze landed on you both. Now, you're not sure which assumption is worse.

You and Zayne are sitting on opposite sides of the bed—way too stiff, way too guilty. His hands are on his lap, posture rigid. You’re tugging your hoodie down like it might somehow erase the evidence.

The RA’s gaze lingers on the extra pillow. The extra blanket. The general vibe of the room that very clearly does not belong to just one person.

"You two aren’t—" They pause. Reconsider. Their tone shifts, something dangerously knowing curling into it. "You don’t live here, do you?"

You force out a very casual, “Nope.”

Zayne, ever the composed one, simply says, “She just spends time here.”

The RA gives him a look.

The silence stretches.

Then, finally—

“…Right,” the RA says, dragging the word out just a little too long.

There’s no proof. They know what’s going on, but they can’t call it out outright. Instead, they exhale, rubbing the bridge of their nose.

“I better not find out you’re actually living here,” they mutter. “Because if I do—” Their eyes flick between the two of you. “I’ll have to report it, and you’ll be sent back to your own room. Understood?”

You nod so fast you probably give yourself whiplash. “Understood.”

The RA lingers for a second longer, but then, mercifully, finally steps back. “Keep it down,” they say. Then, with a skeptical glance at the still-messy bed, they shut the door behind them.

Silence.

Stillness.

You exhale hard, slumping against the bed. Zayne drags a hand down his face, tension leaking out of his shoulders.

“That,” he mutters, “was almost a disaster.”

You turn your head to look at him, still breathless. Your pulse is still racing—not just from the panic, but because you never actually finished. You were just getting to the good part, after all.

Your gaze drops to his lips.

Zayne notices.

His fingers twitch against the sheets. You see the moment it clicks for him—the way his eyes darken, the way his hand shifts just slightly toward you.

You lean in.

“So,” you murmur, voice lower now, teasing. “Where were we?”

Zayne exhales through his nose, tilting his head like he’s thinking. Then, very slowly, he shifts closer, his fingers sliding back to your thigh, his body pressing in just enough to make you shiver.

“I believe,” he says, voice steady but full of promise, “I was in the middle of something.”

And this time, no one interrupts.

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Notes

Before Zayne just played along with MC antics but I feel like now he could be starting it ahahahahaha

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: College AU list ✨