#time to draw the next set HAHA

[doctorsiren]

Part 1

next ->

[keeskiwi]

Alphadon is an opportunistic omnivore, and this little esk looks too much like a snack.

[vargaslovinghours]

And never let you go ♥

Bonus without the overspill lighting:

[cheswirls]

i think (one of) the reason(s) i've been so lethargic abt art this month is i've reached a crux where my eye is trained better than my drawing skills so i don't like how my art looks anymore

logically i know the stepping stone from here is to do studies and a bunch of boring repetitious stuff to improve my basics but i don't wannaaaaaaaa (mostly bc it's summer n the semester burnout is real) so i am currently in limbo

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Biker AU, Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: A certain dark haired leader of a biker club caught your attention online and you've been watching his weekly races in secret—or so you thought. Little did you know, this handsome biker already knows about his cute little stalker...

Content Warnings: Stalking but online. Smut🔞 after a bit of plot. Unprotected sex, P in V (from the behind), riding, rough, dirty talk(?), ass slapping, pet names, choking(kinda—), aftercare in the shower. Chris is a tease (maybe like a bit?).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: 17 days late, but better than never— HAPPY NEW YEAR! I've been wanting to draw and write biker Chan for a LONG LONG TIME, so finally here it is. (Yes that drawing is done by me haha)

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ �� ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 5.6k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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The bike flashed away into the stretching tracks in a blink of an eye, leaving a trail of excitement and dust in its wake. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices drowned out by the fading growl of the engine.

You pushed your hood further over your head to cover your hair flying in that direction, blending into the mass of onlookers while your eyes stayed glued to the figure disappearing into the night.

Christopher Bang Chan.

Did an accidental misclick on a hashtag "NightRider" lead you into his world? Yes.

You did have an unexplainable attraction towards bikes. It was the thrill, the speed, the freedom. Even if you couldn't ride one, the way bikes looked like a beast that could conquer the roads, it fascinated you.

But this— this wasn't just an attraction towards the sleek BMW S1000rr that was speeding this evening. No.

A random late-night scroll had led you to a short video of him—helmet off, his hair dark slightly tousled, a cocky grin tugging at his lips as he dismounted his bike like he owned the world. That pulled you like a magnet to steel.

You watched him, racing the tracks with swift motion, in practice ease, over taking every other rider, everything about him demanding attention.

Every other rider was left in his dust, and the cheers of his friends, 7 guys echoed above the deafening roar of the engines.

"Teach these bastards why they can’t touch you!” one of them bellowed, pumping his fist in the air, his blood red hair catching the rays of the setting sun.

“Eat that, losers!” another laughed, slapping the back of the guy next to him as they all leaned against their bikes, eyes glued to Chan’s figure dominating the track.

In a final swift, Chan drifted his bike as he reached the finish line, the tires screeching against the asphalt in a perfect arc. A plume of smoke curled up from under the wheels, his dimpled grin flashing at his victory and triumph.

The lingering growl of his bike continued as he sat there for a moment, one leg propped on the ground as if soaking in the chaos he had just commanded. His friends were the loudest of all, their jeers and cackles cutting through the noise.

Chan finally killed the engine and swung off the bike with the same effortless grace that had first caught your attention online. He pulled off his helmet, shaking his head slightly to ruffle his dark hair into place.

His eyes gleamed with a mix of adrenaline and triumph as he tucked the helmet under one arm and began walking toward his friends.

“That’s how it’s done, you fucking legend!” yelled one in a strong Australian accent, smacking Chan’s shoulder, the redhead taking his helmet from him and handing in a water bottle.

“Told you it wasn’t even a competition,” Chan quipped, his voice smooth but laced with that cocky edge that made your stomach flip.

The crowd began descending, slowly leaving you alone in your place, your hood over your head, covering your face slightly. Just as you were about to look away, his eyes briefly landed on you.

Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his gaze on you. It was like he knew who you were but that was impossible. You've been secretly coming to the race every Saturday (telling your parents that you're going to the library) ever since you discovered his page and of course he doesn't know who you are.

It's out of the question.

Chan's smirk deepened, something wicked flashing in his expression. You quickly looked away, pretending to fidget with your phone, but you could still feel the heat of his gaze.

Before you made a fool of yourself, you stood up and walked towards the end of the track, pulling your hood lower to shield your face. Just as you were about to step into the shadows, a sharp, confident whistle cut through the air, freezing you in your tracks.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, you didn't turn around but felt Chan's lingering gaze pressing against your back. You turned slightly to see through your shoulders but then turned around and walked away as if you didn't hear anything at all.

“That chick’s been here for the last four weeks.” Minho commented, his voice casual as he tipped back his can of Red Bull.

Chan didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on the spot where you had disappeared into the shadows. His jaw tensed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his gaze.

He could still picture the way you had glanced over your shoulder for a split second, like you’d been caught but refused to admit it.

"Oi, Chan," Felix called out, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You losing your touch, mate?"

The group erupted in laughter, their cackles echoing against the emptying track.

“Maybe she’s got better taste than you thought,” I.N added, smirking as he leaned against his own bike.

"She’ll come around." Chan said smoothly, shrugging nonchalantly, the cocky edge in his voice masking the intrigue bubbling beneath the surface.

"Will she now?" Hyunjin mocked, raising an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"

"Trust me," he said, his tone low and deliberate. "No one comes to my races four weeks in a row without a reason." A devilish smirk tipped the corner of his lips that made the guys exchange glances.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't." Changbin interrupted, pushing himself upright with a sharp look.

"You don't even know what I was thinking." Chan shot back, running a hand through his dark, tousled hair. "Besides, if she keeps coming back, she’s going to slip up eventually. And when she does…”

Changbin rolled his eyes at him and grabbed a Red Bull from the ice box. He knew that Chan wasn't going to listen to what he's gonna say anyway.

Chan walked towards his bike and hoped on, revving his engine as it roared to life and slipping his helmet on. He glanced at his friends, his smirk turning downright wicked.

"Then what?" Hyunjin asked, crossing his arms.

"She wanted my attention, so she got it. And I want something in return.”

With that, he sped off into the night, leaving the guys behind in a cloud of smoke and laughter.

***

"Three, two, one, let's gooo!..."

You kept scrolling through Instagram reels, nothing interesting that grabbed your attention.

But you couldn't stop thinking about Chan...

It's Saturday, four o'clock in the evening. His races start at five. You went through his Instagram and TikTok, creating a folder in your saves for his biking videos and you catch yourself rewatching his highlights again and again.

Were you guilty for stalking him online? A bit—but you couldn't stop it. His bike didn't even fascinate you anymore the way it did the first time. You just were feeling obsessed with him.

The race track was only a few blocks away from you and you couldn't help but think, could he have crossed your home? You never noticed it but now everytime you hear a speeding engine, you look out your window, hoping it's Chan.

Yeah you were pretty much obsessed.

You went back to Chan's account and scrolled down his feed, opening some of his old posts when suddenly the phone slipped out of your hand and fell on your face.

"Fuck!" You yelped, rubbing your forehead, eyes widening as you glanced at the screen in horror.

Oh fuck—

You accidentally liked a picture of him from two years ago.

The red heart stared back at you, mocking your clumsiness, your heart sank as panic took over.

“Oh, no, no, no…” you whispered, scrambling to unlike it. You tapped the heart again, watching it disappear, but the damage was already done. Your phone trembled in your hands as you stared at the post, your reflection visible in the darkened screen.

It was a picture of him leaning casually against his bike, wearing a tank top with his buff arms crossed, a majestically inked dragon flexing on his bicep.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, clutching your forehead. Does he get notifications for old likes? Does Instagram even do that?

You sat up, your mind racing just as fast as his bike. He had half a million followers, so maybe he wouldn’t notice, right? But what if he did? What if he checked? What if he remembered your face from the track and connected the dots?

"Calm down," you whispered, trying to reason with yourself. "He probably won’t even notice."

But deep down, a small voice in the back of your mind said otherwise.

Because if there was one thing you’d learned about Chan from watching him race, it was that he noticed everything.

~

"She'll be here today." Chan said, tossing the Red Bull can in the trash and turning towards his friends.

Seungmin tilted his head, looking up from his phone, arching a skeptical brow. "Oh, so now you're a psychic?"

Chan rolled his eyes, leaning casually against his bike. “No. She's been coming every Saturday, there's no way she'll not come today."

“You’ve been stalking your stalker?” Felix chimed in, his deep voice carrying a note of amusement as he slipped his hands in the pocket of his pants.

Chan smirked, unbothered by the jab. “I don’t need to stalk. She makes herself obvious. Hood up, always at the same damn spot. Like clockwork.”

“Maybe she’s just here for the bikes,” Seungmin said with a shrug, going back to scrolling on his phone. Chan shook his head, his smirk widening.

Chan shook his head, his smirk widening. “Nah, it’s not the bikes anymore. Her eyes practically screamed busted when I whistled at her.”

“That’s because you’re fucking annoying.” Jisung piped up, sipping from his own can of soda. “If someone whistled at me in public, I’d leave too.”

The group laughed, but Chan’s gaze remained steady, fixed on the track like he was already envisioning you standing there.

"Race instead of me." Chan effortlessly tossed his keys at Changbin.

"What?" Changbin caught the keys with a sharp reflex, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"If she's really into the bikes, she wouldn't care if the rider is different. But if that's not the case..." His smirk grew wider.

"Then she'll know it's not me the second you hit the track." Chan finished, rolling his helmet between his hands. "She’s been watching me, not the bike. Let’s see if she’s as observant as I think."

Changbin raised an eyebrow, twirling the keys in his hand. “So, you’re basically using me as bait?”

“Not bait,” Chan corrected, handing Changbin his helmet and clapping him on the shoulder. “More like... a decoy. Just ride, keep it clean, and make it convincing. Wear my helmet, keep your head down, and let me handle the rest.”

“This is either genius or the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” Felix said, shaking his head.

“Shut up and watch,” Chan said, his tone light but confident. He turned back to Changbin. “You good?”

Changbin sighed, slipping the helmet on. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t blame me if I win and your little stalker realizes you’re not as fast as you think.”

The group laughed again, but Chan was already focused, his gaze cutting across the other riders getting ready for the race and watching the crowd gather, waiting for his shadowed muse.

The air began getting slightly colder, riders hopping on their bikes getting ready for the race. Chan stood with the guys, his back facing the crowd and his face hidden with a hoodie, watching Changbin rev up the engine.

He gave a small thumbs to Bin who responded with his own one and held the handle, preparing to flash away.

You finally managed to slowly get in your spot blending in with the crowd, your usual hood on, hair in front to shield your face, eyes glued on the riders before you.

At this point it felt silly than anything else, sneaking around every Saturday like you were some undercover agent. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The magnetic pull Chan had on you was impossible to ignore, even if you didn’t fully understand it yourself.

Your eyes scanned the lineup of riders, automatically locking onto the sleek, black BMW S1000rr. The sound of its engine roaring to life sent a familiar thrill through you, but something felt... different tonight.

The rider atop the bike gave a sharp nod, helmet obscuring his face. You couldn’t tell, but the way he usually carried himself—effortless confidence paired with a hint of smugness—seemed oddly subdued.

Your heart sank slightly. Was he even here tonight?

You pushed the thought away, gripping the edge of your hoodie to ground yourself. Focus. It didn’t matter. You were here for the race, for the thrill, not for him.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself since the last four races.

The countdown began, the cheers of the crowd growing louder with each passing second. The sound of engines revving filled the air, and you found yourself leaning forward slightly, anticipation buzzing through your veins.

Three... Two... One—

The riders shot forward, a blur of color and speed tearing down the track. Your eyes stayed glued to the black bike, trying to shake the unease gnawing at the back of your mind.

Is it him?

You watched curiously for the first two rounds, pushing away the feeling that it's not Chan but when it was the third round and you still didn't see his dramatic drift at the curved corners of the track, you were sure that it really wasn't Chan racing.

You leaned backwards exhaling and pulling out your phone, your interest in the race quietly dying down.

"I caught you princess..." A smug grin spread across Chan's face who had been secretly watching you but the race.

Hyunjin, who had also been watching you with Chan, waiting for him to be wrong, sighed dramatically, pulling a crumpled fifty out of his pocket and slapping it into Minho’s palm.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, shooting Chan a side glance. "She really is here for you man."

Chan chuckled, low and confident. “Told you,” he said, brushing past them as he made his way toward you.

You were distracted with the reels playing on your phone to notice until he sat next you, your eyes fell on that unmistakable silver bracelet you recognised instantly.

Your heart pounded in your ears.

“Enjoying the race?” a low, teasing voice asked, so close you could feel the faint vibration of it in your chest. You stiffened, your head snapping up.

And there he was. Bang Chan.

Sitting casually next to you, leaning back like he owned not just the seat, but the entire universe. His hoodie was slightly pushed back, giving you a perfect view of his sharp jawline and those maddening dimples that tugged at his smirk.

For the first time, you noticed how sharp his features were up close—perfectly sculpted, how his lashes framed those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you.

You swallowed hard, your nerves threatening to spill over, but you kept your guard up and tried to calm your racing heart.

“You okay there, princess?” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or maybe... me?”

You quickly snapped out of it, your face heating. “I’m fine,” you said, sitting straighter and forcing your voice to sound steady. "And I think you've mistaken me, I don't really know you."

Your lie was so bland, it practically hung in the air like a neon sign screaming caught red-handed.

Chan raised an eyebrow, playfully scoffing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Is that so?” he said, his tone laced with mock sincerity. He leaned in slightly, and you caught a faint whiff of leather and something distinctly him—sharp, clean, and deathly intoxicating.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice firm despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “I don’t really follow bikers.”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin theatrically, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Funny, because someone who doesn’t follow bikers somehow managed to stumble across my page. And, oh, what’s this?” 

He mimicked scrolling on an invisible phone, his grin wicked. “Liked a post from two years ago? Now, that’s dedication for someone who doesn’t know me.”

Your stomach did a somersault, and for a moment, you were certain your face betrayed you. But you quickly composed yourself, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms. “That was an accident,” you said coolly, trying to ignore the way your pulse thundered in your ears.

Chan tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “So you accidentally clicked on my profile, accidentally scrolled back two years, and accidentally double-tapped? Seems like a lot of accidents for one person.”

You huffed, glaring at him. “Are you always this full of yourself?”

“Only when I’m right.” He shot back smoothly, his dimpled grin so close now, you could count the faint freckles dotting his cheekbones. 

You could do nothing to calm your racing heart as Chan adjusted his seat and leaned back, watching whoever was racing in his place. He didn't say a word after that, just stayed silent and concentrated on the track.

You kept glancing at him with the corner of your eyes without fully turning, focusing on the race as well, but you could have sworn that he could hear your pounding beats in your chest over the screeching tires.

Of course whoever was riding in on behalf of Chan won tonight's race in an equally dramatic drift, you caught Chan smirking and nodding proudly. You were unsure what to do and stood in your place while the crowd began standing up, then when you were about to leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist.

"Where are you off to now?" His dark eyes glinted under the dim lights, mischief oozing from every inch of his expression.

“You’ve been sneaking in to watch the race for weeks, and now that you’ve got what you wanted, you’re just gonna leave? That’s kinda rude, don’t you think?” 

You bit your lip, debating your next words. His confidence was infuriating, but it was also… dangerously attractive. Finally, you sighed, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “Maybe I did. So what?”

Chan blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your honesty, before breaking into a wide grin. “Well, that’s a first. Didn’t think you’d actually own up to it.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?” you shot back, your tone laced with feigned impatience, though your pulse still raced from his lingering touch.

Chan tilted his head, eyeing you thoughtfully, then exhaled a sharp breath. “Don’t you think it’s time you saw what it’s like on the track?”

You blinked at him, your breath hitching. “What are you talking about?”

He straightened up, fixing his hoodie. “I’m offering you a ride, princess. Around the track. Are you up for it, or not?”

The sass in his tone lit a fire in you. You loved bike rides, the rush of speed, the wind in your hair—but doing it with him? That felt like stepping into dangerous territory. Still, your pride wouldn’t let you back down.

You crossed your arms, feigning indifference. “Fine. Let’s see if your riding skills are as good as your ego.”

Chan chuckled, the sound deep and low, and it sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Careful what you wish for, princess,” he said, stepping closer. “You might not be able to handle it.”

You scoffed, though your heart was pounding. “We’ll see about that.”

You followed Chan as he descended the stairs and made his way towards his friends, all of them surrounded with their own bikes, cans of Red Bull, wearing leather jackets.

“Yo, I.N!” Chan called out as you approached, his voice carrying over the noise of the dispersing crowd. He looked up from his phone, his expression curious.

“What’s up?” I.N asked, his brows lifting when he saw you trailing behind Chan.

Chan jerked his chin toward I.N’s helmet, which was resting on the bike parked beside him. “Hand that over. Our guest needs it.”

I.N blinked, clearly surprised. “Wait, she’s riding with you?”

“Finally got yourself a passenger?” Minho, who was leaning casually against his own bike, snorted.

“Just a little gratitude to her for being so kind and showing up to my races every week.” Chan replied smoothly, throwing you a sidelong glance.

Your cheeks flushed crimson but you didn't say anything. You couldn't because you felt like your throat was shut tight.

The group erupted into low chuckles, Minho gave Chan a knowing look, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Don’t mess up my helmet,” I.N said, handing it over. “It's my favourite one.” 

You hesitated for a moment, then took it, your fingers brushing against his. “Don't worry, I won't.” You said softly. 

The group watched you curiously as if they were waiting for you to make a mistake but Chan’s gaze was the only one you cared about. He stepped closer, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear.

“Nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching into a knowing smirk.

You lifted your chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Not even a little.”

His smirk deepened. “Good. Don't hold back and enjoy the ride.”

Changbin threw the keys at Chan and handed him the helmet, moving aside revealing the sleek black BMW, shining under the bright full moon light.

Chan got on the bike and you climbed up behind him. The tension crackled between you like static, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to throttle him—or hold on tighter.

The engine roared to life, the deep, guttural sound vibrating through your body. Your grip on the seat tightened as Chan revved the engine, his dimpled smirk still firmly in place as he glanced back over his shoulder at you.

With a swift twist of his wrist, the bike shot forward, the sudden burst of speed forcing a gasp from your lips. Instinctively, your hands flew to his waist, gripping tightly as the world blurred around you.

The track stretched out like a silver ribbon under the moonlight, the cool night air whipping past your face, your hair dancing in the wind like a wild, untamed spirit. Chan maneuvered the bike with practiced ease, leaning into sharp turns and accelerating down straightaways.

The bike slowed slightly as he leaned into another turn, and you took the chance to glance at him. The confidence in his posture, the way his shoulders moved with the bike—it was magnetic.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased, his voice cutting through the wind.

You scowled, your cheeks heating. “Focus on the road, Chan.”

“I always do,” he replied smoothly. “But you’re making it a little hard, princess.”

Your grip on his waist tightened involuntarily, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something you might regret. The speed continued until Chan slowed down, pulling to a stop at the other side of the track, the starting point looking like the size of an ant.

The sudden stillness was deafening compared to the roar of the engine moments ago. The cool night air clung to your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between you and Chan.

He shifted slightly, his body still straddling the bike as he turned his head toward you, his dark eyes glinting under the pale glow of the moon. “Tight grip you’ve got there, princess,” he said, his voice low and teasing. 

“Didn’t think you’d want to hold on that bad.”

***

“Ah-Chan—” your moans poured out of your lips like an erotic symphony, blood rushing down like a flood bursting out of a dam as you felt his length inside of you, breasts bouncing up and down. 

Oh you were holding on that bad. 

“Ride my cock, baby. Good girl.” Chan hissed, your pussy clenching him so nicely it drove him wild. 

What started off him not knowing your existence to getting to know eachother to now him fucking the senses out of you escalated fast. 

You can't lie, you did have fantasies about him during the nights when you scrolled through his socials. Imagining how he would be in bed. Those dirty nights when you moaned his name, imagining his cock replacing your vibrator. 

Would he be gentle? A complete opposite to the menace he was on the road?

Boy you were wrong. He was anything but gentle.

He was rough. Hard. Strong. And you enjoyed that very much. 

Chan's hand fisted your hair as he pulled you towards him, his lips crashing yours drinking the taste of you. Your fingers clung onto his shoulder, nails grooving scars on his smooth skin, rocking your hips for more friction. 

His cock filled you completely, stretching you in ways that made your vision blur. Every upward snap of his hips drove you closer to the edge, the friction against your walls making your toes curl.

“Chan—” you whimpered, breaking the kiss to gasp for air, your head falling back as his pace quickened.

He didn’t let up. If anything, the sight of you unraveling only spurred him on. His mouth trailed down your throat, teeth grazing your skin before he latched onto the sensitive spot just above your collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

His lips latched on your erect nipple, sucking and licking on it, the obscene sounds of him groaning feeling like music to your ears.

Wetness gushed down your thighs and onto his, a sinful symphony of wet, desperate noises that only fueled the fire between you.

“So fucking perfect for me.” he praised, his lips brushing against your ear as he pinched and played with your slick nipple that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. 

You felt so dirty and depraved, shamelessly riding his cock, his praises turning you on even more.

“Should I punish this pussy for stalking me baby? Hmm?” His hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen clit, triggering an orgasm to break free just from his words.

He already “punished” you for stalking him by bending you over and fucking you to oblivion on his bike a week ago but he is so cocky and mean, he loved using that every chance he got.

“Or should I fuck you from behind and wreck you till you make a sweet mess all over my cock?” 

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your release slammed through you, your body convulsing and your walls clenched around him, drawing a deep, guttural moan from his lips. 

You couldn't even process the aftershocks of your climax and before you knew it, you were on all fours, Chan's eyes glued on your glistening slick pussy, the angry tip of his cock grazing and teasing your swollen folds. 

“Chan— mngh,” you pushed back against him, whining with need, feeling the anticipation rebuild as you kept feeling the tip nudge against your entrance.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice a dark purr that sent a shiver down your spine. “Barely gave you time to breathe, and here you are, already begging for me to ruin you again.”

Your fingers clenched the sheets, your body trembling from the mix of frustration and desire. “Please, Chan,” you breathed, voice muffled and desperate.

“Please, what?” he sneered, leaning down so his chest pressed against your back, his silver chain and bracelet on his wrist touching your skin, cold. 

His breath was hot against your ear, and his hand slid up your body to grip your throat. “You want me to fuck you? Say it.” 

Your cheeks burned, but the heat between your legs overshadowed any embarrassment. “I need you to fuck me, Chan,” you whispered, then louder, “Ruin me. Wreck me.”

He groaned at your words, his hand tightening slightly around your throat. “Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.”

Without another word, he thrust into you in one brutal stroke, knocking the air from your lungs. Your hands flew forward to steady yourself, a gasp tearing from your throat as he set a punishing pace, his hips slamming into yours with a force that had the bed creaking beneath.

“Look at you,” he continued, his tone dripping with arrogance. “So fucking cock-drunk, you can’t even think straight.” 

You tried to speak, but he cut you off with a sharp thrust that made you cry out. His grip on your waist was bruising, holding you in place as he pounded into you mercilessly. 

Every stroke hitting deeper, harder, until you were a squirming mess beneath him. His balls slapped against your clit, an almost tight hand around your throat had your vision going white.

His teeth sank into your soft skin, leaving a ruthless mark on your shoulder and his hand met with a sharp slap! on your ass. The pleasure of it overlapped the pain, relentless drilling on your sloppy cunt that made you grab the headboard.

“FUCK! I can't—” Your cries echoed off the walls of your bedroom, loud and feral.

“You can’t what?” Chan snarled, his voice laced with mockery as he dragged his cock out almost completely before slamming back in, hitting that spot and your skin meeting with another sharp slap! 

His teeth grazed your earlobe as his hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you in place. “Can’t take me? Too much for this tight little cunt?”

“Y-yes—no—I don’t know!” you sobbed, your fingers clawing at the headboard as your body quivered beneath him.

His hand slid up on your throat, pulling you upright so your back was flush against his chest. The new angle made you scream, his cock hitting even deeper, harder, the relentless pace leaving you on the verge of tears.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice gravelly and thick with lust. “Scream for me, baby. Let the whole world know who’s making you feel this good.”

The way his cock kept hitting the right spots made you climb higher and higher, the knot tightening, only seconds away from snapping, your whimpers and moans poured out endlessly.

“I'm gonna come— I'm—”

You couldn't even finish your sentence as the second orgasm left you shaking, trembling and reeling beneath him. Your walls clamped down on his cock, pulling him deeper until he spilled his seed in you.

“Fuck.” Chan groaned, his grip on your throat loosening as he chased his own release. His hips stuttered, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips, cock twitching as he pumped you full.

Breaths ragged and heavy, the room was mixed in scents of mint and sex. Chan collapsed forward, but braced himself to avoid crushing you beneath his weight.

“You did so good, baby,” He murmured, his voice low and thick, trying to catch his breath while he nipped your sensitive skin.

Both of you were drenched in sweat, the mingling of your bodies making the heat in the room unbearable, yet neither of you moved.

His cock softened inside you, but he didn’t pull out. Instead, he just leaned forward kissing the nape of your neck and shifted slightly, you winced at the feeling of him still inside you, oversensitivity making your nerves spark.

Slowly your bodies untangled and he fell on his back next to you, the both of you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of what just happened settling in. 

You gently turned your head to see Chan, who was lost in his own thoughts. He felt you watching him and he turned too, a soft smile tipping the corner of his lips, his fingers brushing a few strands of hair from your face.

His eyes trailed down your body, skin peppered with his bite marks and hickeys, something unusually painful stung in his chest even though he had never felt that before.

You moved closer to him, pecking a sweet kiss on his nose that made him knit his brows smiling.

“I’m okay, you didn’t hurt me if you think you did.” You said reassuringly.

Chan let out a soft breath, his smile faltering for a moment as he studied your face. His fingers ghosted over a particularly dark bruise on your collarbone, his touch featherlight.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, his teasing edge nowhere to be found. 

You rolled your eyes, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “Of course.” He huffed out a laugh, the sound vibrating against your cheek and kissed your forehead.

Chan got up from the bed and carried you in his arms towards the shower, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a content sigh as your head rested against his chest.

Under the spraying water, the steam curled around the two of you, but his touch was what kept you warm. 

He grabbed a washcloth and the soap, lathering it before starting at your shoulders. His touch was slow and deliberate, careful not to press too hard as he cleaned every inch of your skin. 

When he reached your bruised hips, his lips ghosted over one of the marks that made your heart flutter. 

Once he was satisfied, he handed you the cloth, smirking faintly. “Your turn, princess.”

You laughed softly, taking it from him and mimicking his careful actions. You then saw the scratch marks and crescent scars you had left on his skin, etched like tiny badges.

Your fingers ghosted over them as you cleaned him, a pang of guilt flashing through your chest.

“Sorry about these,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Chan chuckled, his smirk softening into something warmer. “Don’t be. I like them."

Heat rose up your cheeks and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head.

When you reached his bicep, you couldn’t resist tracing the outline of his tattoo, your fingers brushing over the ink that decorated his skin.

“You really are full of surprises,” you said, your voice soft.

His brow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “The rough biker with the soft side. Didn’t think I’d ever see it.”

He smirked, pulling you closer under the spray of water. “Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway, letting the water cascade over both of you. Pearl-like drops of water slid down your bodies, your back pressed against the cold titles as Chan's mouth claimed yours. 

After the shower Chan changed into his clothes and you slipped into comfy sweats, he grabbed his keys and helmet from the living room, walking toward the door with a cool, confident stride.

“My race is on Saturday,” He said, slipping on his helmet. “I hope you'll be there, princess.” 

A chuckle escaped from your lips, your mind going back to how you went watch his races every Saturday without him knowing who you were. 

“I guess I’ll see you there, then.”

Chan nodded, opening the front door and stepping out, you watched him climb on his bike, revving the engine back to life. With a twist on the handle, he zoomed out into the night, flashing away into the stretching darkness leaving a trail of himself behind.

You couldn’t help but think that stumbling across that video online of a certain biker had definitely been the best misstep of your life.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Here's a bigger and better quality picture of my drawing of Biker Chan:

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[everrinsly]

a/n; this is so silly and super long but made me laugh haha i hope you enjoy too

a momager and her silly olympic team.

big, strong olympic babies. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more olympic team shenanigans here!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

It was supposed to be a simple procedure.

Just a quick blood draw—routine anti-doping protocol for the Olympic committee.

Simple, clean, quick.

In, out, done.

But you should’ve known better.

Because you were managing Team Japan, which meant logic and peace left the chat the second you walked into the small medical room with the group of oversized children and two very tired authority figures.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“Can’t we just pee in a cup or somethin’?!” Atsumu whined, clutching his arm like it had already been severed. “Why does it gotta be blood?”

The nurse blinked at him, void of any emotion, and calmly replied, "You'll pee in the cup after your blood is drawn."

"WAIT—we gotta do BOTH?!"

"Well shit... I don't even have any pee left in me."

"Should I chug some water now?"

You glanced sheepishly over your clipboard as the nurse rolled her eyes for the fifth time.

“Iwaizumi," she sighed. “You said they were professionals.”

Iwaizumi, standing beside you with his arms crossed and murder in his eyes, growled lowly. "How about everyone sit the fuck down—they are. They’re just being idiots.”

“IT’S A NEEDLE, IWA.” Bokuto wailed from his seat, gripping the armrest like it might save him. “LIKE A PIERCING METAL STABBER. RIGHT INTO MY VEINS!”

“It’s like ten inches long,” Hinata whispered in horror, eyeing the straight needle like it might leap into his skin. “Why is it so long? Does it even need to be that long?!”

“I feel faint,” Atsumu muttered, already lying dramatically across two chairs. “If I die, tell ma I love her. Not 'Samu though.”

Suna eyed Atsumu with a slow grin before pulling his phone out. "Say hi to Osamu. I'm gonna show him what a wimp you are—"

"NO—THE FUCK YOU AREN'T—"

Aran slapped the back of Atsumu's head before he got a chance to lunge at Suna. "How about both of you cut it out before I call your guys' worst nightmare."

"Who?"

"Kita."

"Oh."

"ARAN—I thought you were my friend—"

"Mm, no. Not when you're acting like that."

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“ALRIGHT, who’s up first?”

The nurse's voice cut through the chaos in the room, loud but monotone, like she was already done with Team Japan not even two minutes in.

As she prepped a set of vials and associated straight needles, Sakusa stood immediately, calm as ever. “I’ll go.”

“SEE?” Iwaizumi barked from behind you. “Like a normal adult. Thank you, Sakusa.”

Hinata whispered something in awe.

“He takes the flu vaccine every year,” Komori whispered back like it was a bedtime story.

Sakusa made a face at Komori under his mask, eyes squinting. "Did you all not take your flu vaccine?"

“I did,” Ushijima raised his hands, a twitch of a smile gracing his lips.

“I was busy,” Atsumu offered.

“Busy doing what?” Sakusa snapped. “Scrolling through food TikTok?!”

"I mean... I was doing that," Suna shrugged.

You placed a gentle hand on Sakusa’s arm, trying to soothe him. “Hey, it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not okay,” Sakusa said darkly. “I’m surrounded by disease-ridden volleyball toddlers.”

He let out a sigh of disappointment before he sat down, pushed up his sleeve, and barely blinked as the needle slid into his arm.

“I don’t like watching this,” Atsumu muttered.

“Then don’t watch it,” you replied, not even turning around as you helped the nurse line up the next tubes. “You’re all professional athletes. You face blocks going 100 kilometers an hour. A needle should not be this scary.”

“That’s different,” Kageyama mumbled.

“How?” you deadpanned.

“Blocks don’t stab you.”

You snorted and glanced over your shoulder just in time to see Hinata clutching Komori’s arm like he was about to face a death sentence.

“You’re not even next, Hinata,” Komori whispered, patting his head.

“Yet!”

“Alright, all done,” the nurse smiled at Sakusa.

He stood up, rolled down his sleeve, and dusted off his hands like he’d just finished a perfectly timed serve.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“Who's next?”

Suna stepped forward next, hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

You raised a brow. “Didn’t expect you to be so brave.”

“I have a tattoo,” he said dryly. “Needles and I have an understanding.”

That earned a round of complaints.

“Wait, Suna goes next?!” Atsumu pointed at him, offended. “Just ‘cause he has a tattoo doesn’t mean he’s not scared!”

Suna lifted his shirt slightly to flash a bit of ink on his ribcage. “Wanna see if I flinch?”

You and the nurse both rolled your eyes.

"Put your shirt down. You're gonna cause a PR scandal again, Suna," Aran said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re such a show-off,” you murmured, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

While Suna got his blood drawn (and, true to his word, didn’t flinch at all), Bokuto started pacing like he was about to give a TED Talk titled How I Conquered Fear (Just Kidding).

“I’ve never fainted,” Bokuto said, puffing out his chest. “But like, what if today is the day? What if my blood just—whoosh—rushes out too fast?”

“Bo,” you sighed, “that’s…not how blood draws work.”

“But what if it is?” he wailed.

“It’s not!” Iwaizumi groaned.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Coach, who had entered five minutes ago and said absolutely nothing, was now quietly combusting in the corner.

Aran leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Coach is this close to losing it, isn't he?"

"Think he's already lost it," you laughed. "You all better be prepared for the special punishment drill tomorrow."

Everyone went dead silent.

"Wait... what drill?"

"I kind of like that drill," Ushijima murmured, nodding his head. "Helps me stretch my back."

"The hell are you talking about—"

"It's a back drill?!"

"IWA—tell us—"

"You'll see tomorrow."

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“KOMORI,” the nurse called, cutting the stress in the air.

Komori tensed so hard you thought he might vibrate through the wall.

“I need someone to hold my hand,” he whispered. “Like I really really really do!”

You exchanged a glance with Iwaizumi, who looked about two seconds from purposely walking into traffic. Then, resigned, you stepped up and reached out.

Komori grabbed your hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

“I’m sweating,” he whimpered. “I’m so sweaty.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, holding in your laughter. “You’re fine.”

Kageyama stared at the exchange like he was memorizing every second of it.

Atsumu leaned over to whisper, “Bet Tobio's plannin' to fake a heart attack next, so he can skip."

“I can hear you,” Kageyama hissed.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When it was finally Bokuto’s turn, he saluted you like a fallen soldier. “Tell Akaashi… I did my best.”

“You’re not dying, Bokuto.”

He nodded solemnly. “Yet.”

As the blood draw began, he yelped once—then looked shocked.

“…That’s it?”

“Yeah,” you said. “You made it.”

“OH SHIT—I’M A SURVIVOR,” he shouted.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Hinata was next, and to his credit, he tried to play it cool.

“I’m ready,” he said, chest puffed out.

You raised a brow. “Need a hand?”

“…Yes.”

You held it.

He didn’t cry, but his lips did wobble. And he squeezed so hard you were sure you lost circulation.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When it was Atsumu’s turn, he slumped into the chair like a man defeated.

“I just think,” he started dramatically, “that if I pass out and ya don’t pamper me, it’s gonna hurt more emotionally than physically.”

“You’re not gonna pass out,” you said.

He stared at the needle. “…I might.”

“You won’t.”

“I could.”

“You won’t, 'Tsumu.”

He pouted. “But will I get pampering just in case?”

“No,” Iwaizumi snapped. “You’ll get an ice pack and your dignity, if you’re lucky.”

He definitely flinched when the needle went in. You absolutely teased him about it.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

A hushed awe fell over the room as Ushijima quietly stepped up for his turn.

No panic. No whining. No flailing. Just… silence.

Even the nurse blinked at him.

“…Wow,” she muttered. “This one might actually be normal.”

Ushijima sat with perfect posture, expression blank as ever, arm outstretched.

“I don't understand the fear of needles,” he said calmly, watching the nurse swab his skin. “They are quite small. Less painful than a hard block.”

You leaned over to brush a strand of hair that had flopped over his forehead.

"I'm proud of you," you murmured, soft and sincere.

"OH—he gets a I'm proud of you and I DON'T?!"

"SHUT UP, MIYA!"

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

You nudged Aran. "Your turn, superstar."

“Alright, alright,” he said, rolling his sleeves up and taking a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with. I got this. I’m cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Aran smirked. “I’m not like those guys. Needles? Pssh.”

One minute later…

“I’M SORRY, BUT I MIGHT DIE.”

Aran was gripping your hand like it was his lifeline, leaning back in the chair as the nurse tried to steady his arm.

“Just breathe,” you coaxed, trying not to laugh. “You said you were cool.”

“I was cool until that pointy thing of evil came out of nowhere!” he hissed.

“It’s a tiny straight needle,” the nurse deadpanned.

“I don’t care if it’s gold-plated! That pointy stabber's evil!”

Suna chuckled from his chair, legs crossed, blood already drawn, bandage stylishly in place. “Tough guy act didn’t last long, huh, Aran?”

“You hush,” Aran snapped.

Suna leaned back with a smug grin. “Still not scared of needles."

“Wanna say that again in front of Kita when we're back in Hyogo, Mister-I-have-a-tattoo-and-I'm-so-great?”

Suna opened his mouth—probably to say something horrifyingly smug—only to be cut off by Iwaizumi’s death glare.

“ENOUGH. If one more of you calls it the pointy stabber, I’m dragging you outside for suicide sprints right now.

Everyone immediately shut up.

Except Atsumu, who whispered to Bokuto, “Do ya think if I faint, I’ll get more sympathy points?”

“You’ll get buried,” Iwaizumi snapped, without turning around.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Last up was Kageyama.

“Do I get something if I don’t flinch?” he asked suddenly, looking at you.

You blinked. “…Like what?”

“I dunno. A frozen yogurt treat?”

“…Fine. No flinch, no fuss, and I’ll make the fancy honey and blueberry one later.”

He turned to the nurse, expression dead serious. “I’m ready.”

He didn’t flinch. You were kind of proud.

Then he turned to Atsumu and whispered, “Enjoy your dignity. I’m getting yogurt.”

“SHUT UP,” Atsumu barked.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When the chaos finally ended, you stepped out into the hallway with Iwaizumi and Coach.

Iwaizumi looked like he’d aged ten years.

Coach ran a hand down his face. “They spike balls for a living.”

“I know,” Iwaizumi said through gritted teeth.

You, somehow still chipper, smiled. “They’re just scared of the little things.”

Coach looked at you. “What aren’t they scared of?”

You didn't have an answer.

Then the nurse strolled past, hands clutching the biohazard bags ready to be sent to the testing center, and murmured, “God help Japan.”

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

[brunchable]

Santa Baby | S. R.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x F!Reader Themes: Christmas FLUFF, a bit of jealousy from Steve. Summary: At the annual Christmas gala, your flirty performance of Santa Baby leaves Steve Rogers captivated and a little jealous of the attention you're drawing. Later, under the falling snow on the balcony, Steve finally proposes, turning the festive night into a moment you'll cherish forever. A/N: Can be connected to "Secret Santa" if you want to connect it to each other haha. This oneshot is a part of my 4K follower Christmas Celebration. Also this one will be connected to Santa Baby that will be released next week. dividers by @saradika-graphics

The annual Christmas gala was in full swing—twinkling fairy lights, glittering ornaments, and the comforting hum of laughter set the perfect holiday mood. You had been assigned to entertain the crowd, your role as the night’s singer solidified when Tony loudly declared, “Y/N’s got the voice of an angel! She’s doing it, no arguments!”

You stood at the microphone in your long, sultry red gown, the epitome of old-Hollywood glamour. The satin hugged your figure, the thigh-high slit adding an edge of daring sophistication. The room quieted as the band started playing, the familiar playful melody of Santa Baby filling the air.

And that’s when you saw him.

Steve Rogers, sitting at a corner table, a glass of eggnog in his hand and a faint pink flush already warming his cheeks. Perfect target.

With a coy smile, you launched into the song, every word dripping with playful flirtation.

“Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree... for me...” you sang, letting your voice take on a velvety quality as you held Steve’s gaze. His eyes widened slightly, and you swore his grip on the eggnog tightened.

You strolled closer to the crowd, letting your hips sway naturally to the beat. The teasing smile never left your lips as you zeroed in on Steve, directing every lyric his way.

“Been an awful good girl... Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.”

Steve’s blush deepened as you approached. He squirmed a little in his chair, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. But as your performance continued, you noticed the looks from the other men in the room. Some were outright gawking, and a few whispered to each other, their eyes locked on your gown.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Steve’s expression darken, his jaw tightening as he followed their gazes. Sam, seated beside him, smirked and leaned over. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but Steve’s curt shake of his head and the glare he shot Sam made you giggle internally.

Still, you couldn’t resist turning the heat up a notch.

“Think of all the fun I’ve missed...” You winked directly at Steve. “Think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed.”

Sam burst into laughter, giving Steve an exaggerated nudge. Poor Steve looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor, his ears bright red now, but his sharp glare shifted back to anyone in the room staring too long at you. His possessiveness was adorable—and obvious.

By the time you hit the final note, Steve was practically a Christmas decoration himself—his cheeks a matching shade to your dress. The crowd erupted into applause, but you were only looking at him, grinning mischievously as you gave a little bow.

× × × ×

Not long after, you were walking through the festive crowd when a strong, familiar hand gently grabbed your elbow. You turned, meeting Steve’s sheepish yet determined expression.

“Mind stepping outside with me for a second?”

You nodded, letting him guide you to the balcony. As you approached the doors, Steve paused and slid his coat off, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders. The warmth of the fabric and the subtle hint of his cologne made your cheeks heat.

“It’s cold out,” he said simply, his voice softer now.

Your heart fluttered as you adjusted the coat and followed him onto the balcony. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine. Twinkling lights illuminated his face, and you noticed how serious he seemed, his usual shy demeanor replaced by something more intense.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he finally asked, his tone caught somewhere between teasing and genuinely flustered.

“What?” you replied innocently, feigning surprise. “It’s a Christmas classic! Everyone loves Santa Baby.”

“Yeah, well, everyone wasn’t being serenaded like that,” he muttered, his jaw tightening again. “And… not everyone was staring at you like that, either.”

You blinked in surprise, your lips curving into a slow grin. “Steve Rogers, are you jealous?”

His blush returned full force, but he held your gaze. 

“Maybe I am. Can you blame me? You look…” He gestured helplessly at you, searching for words. “You look like a dream tonight, Y/N. And I don’t want to share that dream with anyone else.”

Your heart melted on the spot, but you decided to push him just a little further. “Well, good thing it was just a performance. You know, for everyone.”

“Y/N,” he said softly, taking a step closer. “I need to say something. And… I can’t wait anymore.”

You tilted your head, your playful expression faltering as you noticed the sincerity in his eyes. Before you could speak, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

“Steve…” you whispered, your breath catching.

“I’ve had this for months,” Steve admitted, his voice low but steady, the faintest tremor betraying his nerves. “I kept telling myself I’d wait for the perfect moment. Then you walked out tonight, looking like that, singing to me like that, and I realized… every moment with you is perfect. What am I waiting for?”

Your breath caught as he knelt down on one knee, his strong hand still holding yours as if grounding himself in you. The soft glow of the lights around you reflected in his blue eyes, filled with a mixture of nervousness and unwavering love.

“You, Y/N,” he began, his voice growing quieter, more tender. “You’re the brightest part of my life. You make me laugh, keep me on my toes, and remind me every day what it means to live fully. I don’t want to go another second without knowing you’ll always be by my side.”

His lips curved into a small, vulnerable smile as he revealed the vintage-style diamond ring nestled in the box. “Will you marry me?”

Tears blurred your vision as his words sank in, wrapping around your heart like the warmest embrace. “Steve…” you whispered, your voice catching, but the joy in your chest pushed through. “Yes. Yes, Steve. Of course!”

He stood slowly, slipping the ring onto your finger with such care it felt ceremonial, almost sacred. For a moment, you both just stared at the ring, the weight of the moment filling your heart with a radiant warmth.

And then his arms were around you, pulling you into a deep embrace. His lips found yours in a kiss so soft, so filled with emotion, it made the world around you disappear.

But Steve wasn’t done. As if overcome with the pure joy of your “yes,” he suddenly lifted you off your feet, your gasp turning into laughter against his mouth. He spun you around effortlessly, his hold on you as steady as his love, while snowflakes fell softly around you, dusting his shoulders and catching in your hair. The kiss grew deeper, his lips pressing against yours with a certainty that made your heart soar.

When he finally set you back down, the world felt quieter, the snow falling like a gentle curtain between you and everything else. You stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as your breaths mingled in the chilly night air.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, his voice steady and sure, his gaze locking onto yours.

A smile tugged at your lips as you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “I love you too, Steve,” you whispered, your voice trembling with joy.

His hands trailed down to your waist, holding you firmly but tenderly, as if grounding himself in the reality of the moment. His gaze softened further, filled with a quiet awe that mirrored your own.

For a long while, you simply stayed there, wrapped in his arms as the snow fell around you, the soft hum of music and laughter from the party barely audible in the background. This wasn’t just a memory—it was the start of something extraordinary.

Tags: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @strawberrybisou @alyana-luvs-u @rogersbarber @veronicapaula

@fynnwolff @bmyva1entine @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @awaywithtime

[tinyfantasminha]

Club wear!

UMMM UMMM HEY THIS IS MY FIRST FULL ART IN CLIP STUDIO PAINT 😱😱can you tell that my wrist hurt as hell and I had to make a clean ver of the club card template by scratch and edit the assets as much as I could 💔

Voice lines:

Summon Line: A detective needs to be thoroughly prepared. Truth hides behind every move and I'm here to expose it!

Groooovy!!: Board set, pieces in place! Time to outwit some amateurs!

Home: Just another case waiting to be cracked.

Home Idle 1: I like this outfit a lot. The jacket is big and comfy. I didn't join this club just because it had the cutest uniform... Although that's one of the reasons.

Home Idle 2: Azul dislikes games that rely on luck... I do enjoy them. You'll never know what happens next and that's the best part! Leaving your fate to chance is pure ecstasy!

Home Idle 3: I like detective games the best. Whodunit, howdunit... I could spend hours nonstop deducing, it's so much fun.

Home Idle - Login: Board games train the brain, y’know? Logic, tactics, out-of-the-box thinking… all stuff detectives need. I mean, it should come in handy eventually. Right?

Home Idle - Groovy: I find tournaments and livestreams distracting. When two minds are locked in a board game, I feel like it’s a sacred, intimate moment... one that shouldn’t be disturbed by an audience.

Home Tap 1: Getting tricked just means I wasn’t sharp enough. The world isn’t fair, and that’s exactly why I have to be better.

Home Tap 2: Most club members are waiting to be invited for a game. Hehe... so if nooooo one will step up, I guess we might just have to play detective again~!

Home Tap 3: The club gets eerily quiet when I play against Azul. Idia says the ‘battle aura levels spike like a boss fight cutscene’'... and maybe he's not wrong. I DO feel dangerous when that smug, punchable face starts gloating about his so-called ‘flawless victory.’

Home Tap 4: I do wish the others were more enthusiastic. I put so much effort into creating these mystery cases... but when no one wants to play with me, it kinda stings, you know?

Home Tap 5: Idia always tries so hard to solve my mysteries... he never gives up until he cracks the case. I might need to step up my game... What? I'm not smiling.

Home Tap - Groovy: ...You want to play as the detective next round? Fine by me. Playing as the culprit and crafting the crime for the detective to solve is just as exhilarating and fun for me... haha.

I really want to make a groovy but the base card was already tiring enough to draw 🫠 maybe soon ...

[borkunlimited]

Siúil a Rúin

As Take Your Time, Miss Deer, finally comes to an end, I want to reach out to everyone with a note, a thank you for being here in this two month long journey of weekly updates.

I still remember how I decided to write this fic out of a whim, mostly for myself because I want to sharpen my skills as a writer. What started as a whim turn to little snippets, then an outline, and finally, a challenge where I told myself I will complete this fic in a span of 10 chapters.

Honestly, I did not intend to post this at all here in Tumblr, but my beta reader and a friend convinced me otherwise and I am glad I listened to them or else I wouldn't have met each of you today.

This fic was incredibly challenging to write but mostly because I wouldn't deny that numbers still bother me though I still stick to my belief that these shouldn't define my worth as a writer.

One challenge I encounter is actually creating Miss Deer. Sweet characters seemed easy to write when you see them surface level but sweet characters who are layered are more difficult. I want her to be sweet and kind but not the type that she is dependent on other people to live, rather, has her own set of strengths.

I mentioned this several times to my moot (Hi @xiiiaomaiii!) how FLs from Studio Ghibli greatly influenced me and rewatching them all in one go gave me a better idea on how to write her character and how Sylus will play in the story.

I don't want Miss Deer to be completely dependent on him and I want Sylus to be like how every ML is in Studio Ghibli: Supportive and kind.

(Did it work? I like to think I managed to flesh out her character well based on everyone's feedback.)

There are multiple challenges that I have encounter along the way. My worry on ensuring that Sylus, the twins, and even the characters I have isekai'd in this fic (ex. Louis from Beastars) are not OOC. My realization that having an outline is completely different from fleshing it out and there are times I close the doc then call it a day.

Sometimes, I even erase lines of paragraphs. (Bork, do you still have them? No, they are in the abyss now, forever gone haha)

Anyways, I don't want to keep this long! These are just musings, mostly for my future self to read when she looks back.

What's next?

I will focus on drawing art for this fic during my break.

Pick-up what I left off in the side story related to this fic which is about Luke, Kieran, and the sheep hybrid occasionally mentioned.

(This side story is more focused on the themes of coming of age, the twins and the sheep MC navigating in their relationship. I mostly draw inspiration from Skip and Loafer and Horimiya for this. Also, the amount of Luke & Kieran fics is low and I, an upstanding citizen, must do my part.)

Might write short stories and drabbles between Sylus and Miss Deer as well.

Will I write another longfic?

Yes, I already have something in the works but I need to read more about this LI (Who is the LI? Hehe, you'll see), read more books, watch more films in line with the idea I have in mind.

When will you see this longfic?

One day when you wake up (Hopefully on a warm, sunny day), you'll just see the first chapter and you and I will be in another ride where I publish weekly (I pray nothing gets in the way of my life.)

I am happy this story reached you and when you reread it, I hope my intent of making it a cozy story will make you feel better, recharge you, and help you get ready to face what is ahead.

Thank you everyone!

AO3: Take Your Time, Miss Deer: 🦌🐉 Luke & Kieran's Bakery Attack(s): 🐺🐺🐑

Tumblr: Take Your Time, Miss Deer:🦌🐉 Luke & Kieran's Bakery Attack(s):🐺🐺🐑

[colonel-calebs-wife]

Please do size kink with Caleb and my life is yours!!

Per your request:

Themes: Size Kink, P in V, Fingering, Oral, no protection (use rubber irl :)))) ), praise, pet names (Pips, Pip-squeak, Princess), Cuss words

Minors do NOT INTERACT

—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—⭐️—

Background/ Setting: You come to visit Caleb at the Aero Space Academy

“Fuckkkkk I forgot my fricken Pajamas! I swore I put them on my bed I must have forgotten to put them in the suitcase.”

Caleb teasingly says, “Yup that sounds about right. This is what happens when I always help you pack. First time without me, honestly I’m surprised you remember the bag at all.”

“Haha you’re sooooo funny” you say, eyes rolling back.

“Thank you I know I am, a comedian and a life saver” with a huge smile plastered on his face, Caleb reaches into his draw and takes out a black shirt and pajama pants handing it over “I’ll just lend you some of mine.”

“Thanks Imma change” taking the clothes into the bathroom. You switch out of your clothes and into his. They smell like fabric softener, the same comforting scent you smelled hugging Caleb when arriving to Skyhaven.

You put on his shirt, but on you it was practically a dress. It must have been at least 2 sizes too big. You look at yourself in the mirror, it consumed your figure and you looked more like a child playing dress up than someone old enough to be a hunter in training. You tried putting on his pants, tightening them at the waist so they would stay up. You roll up the legs trying to see your feet. By the time you rolled them enough to see your toes- it looked like you had marshmallows surrounding your ankles.

You come out the bathroom and immediately hear Caleb’s laughter.

“Hahahaha what’s wrong with your ankles? Did they get stung by bees while you were in there?”

You give him the side eye and demand“Give me a pair of your shorts”

Between laughs Caleb managed to say “I’ll find you a pair of my track shorts”

You go back and switch into the shorts. Thank god for ajustable waist bands because these would have fallen off if not.

You come out and Caleb is sitting on the couch, he looks over to you and smiles. “Come over here Pips, the movies about to start.” He unwraps the blanket he has around his shoulders “there’s room for one more.” And holds out his arm to show you your spot.

You head over and sit next to him, falling into him from the way that the couch sank into his weight. He’s gotten much more muscular from weight training. Mixing that his already large frame and being 6’2, it’s like you were an asteroid falling into his gravitational pull. But you don’t mind it tho, he was warm and your legs cold from having your legs exposed.

There started our movie night, horror movies each scarier than the last. The ambiance matched outside, a gloomy and rainy day. The sound loud ripping thunder filled the room. You jerk back so hard and threw your head into Caleb’s arm.

“You ok Pips?” His voice sounded genuinely worried. He puts his arm around you and puts your head on his chest. “I’m going to change the channel, maybe scary movies and a thunderstorm is too much.”

With your head still buried in his chest you apologize “I’m sorry I ruined movie night”

“No you didn’t Pips, we saw like 2 movies and the last one was boring all jump scares no plot”

Suddenly, the room lights up and is followed a deafening boom comes from outside. You jump up and fall into Caleb’s lap.

His arms wrap around you and he reassures you “it’s just thunder Pip-squeak, I’m here I’ll protect you.” He rubs your back to comfort you.

You hold onto him, and melt into his embrace. More thunder echos outside. Your body jerks again. Only this time you feel something underneath you when you adjust yourself on Caleb’s lap.

You look up at Caleb’s face, its beet red. In a shaky voice he says“I’m going to have to ask you to move.”

You feel your cheeks turn red, looking into Caleb’s violet eyes. Another booming sound fills the room, your body jerks and you accidentally rub against his bulge again.

You hear Caleb say “Fuck” underneath his breath. His breathing getting heavier. It’s getting harder.

There was no space between you two. Your chest against his, your arms wrapped around his neck, your ass on his lap. Your lips were practically touching, looking into each others eyes.

You don’t know who kissed who, but it didn’t matter.

Caleb hands migrated down lifting you and bringing over one leg to the other side of him. You feel his bulge in-between your legs. He grabs your hips and guides them to grind on him.

His lips migrate down to your neck. Your hands grip his hair, holding him close. Moans escaping your lips as his kisses cover every inch of your neck. You feel him, pulling up your shirt, exposing your breast. He hungrily wraps his mouth around your nipple, and with his other hand begins to stimulate the other.

Ecstasy flows through you. His tongue circling your nipple, gently bitting it, while the other one is groped by his hand. Your body moving on its own now, grinding your hips on his bulge, desperate for more stimulation.

Desperate you plead “Please Caleb I want you in me”

“We have to get you ready first” he warns. He scoops you up and lays you on the couch. Sliding off your shorts leaving you in your panties. “Fuck you’re so beautiful” then slides them off.

He begins to kiss the inner of your thighs, trailing to your pussy. The wait only making you more desperate. “Please Caleb”

At your request, he uses his tongue to circle your clit. The warm and wet sensation send ripples up your spine. Between breaths you hear him mutter “Fuck you taste so good”.

You feel him slid in one of his big fingers into your cunt. “You’re so wet fuck” he simultaneously eats you out and fingers you. The noise of your moans and the wet noises of your pussy drown out the storm. “I’m going to put the second one in” you feel the pressure as the second finger enters, widening you up. Your walls tighten around them, sending shivers up your back and through your body. You orgasm and your juices cover Caleb’s fingers. “Fuck your so sexy”

Caleb comes up and takes off his pants, his giant body towering over you and, revealing his massive cock. It’s bigger than you could have imagined, as long as his massive hands and thick enough that couldn’t wrap your hand around it with your own. The question comes into your mind will it even fit?

Caleb must have seen the worry on your face and reassures you “I’m going to be really gentle, if it hurts tell me and I’ll stop ok?” The gentleness in his eyes fills you with peace, and you respond “Ok, I trust you”

Caleb guided his cock into you, rubbing the tip on your clit before inserting it. You feel it slipping in, the warmth filling you. “You’re doing so good” Caleb coos, “just a little more princess.” Finally it is all in, your body adjusting to the fullness of his cock in you. “Shit you feel so good wrapped around my cock. You’re so fucking wet, it’s so warm.”

He starts to move, slowly and picking up the pace with each stroke. With every motion, you moan. His cock slides in and out of you. Your toes curling and your mind going numb. All you can think about is the feeling of Caleb. His necklace dangling over your face, grabbing onto him, clawing into his back.

You hear his moans, and your own. His name escaping your mouth. Only making him pound you harder. Your body starts to shake, your walls clenching around his cock. “Oh Caleb, oh fuck, oh fuckkk, I’m cumming” you desperately grab on to him.

He can’t help it “Fuck yeah baby, cum on me, cum on my dick. Fuck, I’m going to cum”. You feel his hot, thick, cum filling you up and dripping out of you. The feeling only amplifying your orgasm.

He kisses you, and holds you. He grabs your face and looks into your eyes, “I love you, you know that right?” You nod, feeling comforted by his words “I love you too.” Caleb gently smiles and says “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, Pip-squeak.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Had a dream where Vil was offered a position to be the potions professor (no clue what happened to Crewel) after graduation and it was a whole big thing when he decided to accept but we all knew it was just a thinly veiled excuse to keep him in the school and relevant to the gacha game. He even has a voice line joking to Yuu about how Yuu should work hard and maybe he'd taken them on as a Potions teaching assistant after graduation - foreshadowing the excuse that will be used to keep the player character in the school for the gacha game once the first years reach graduation too

When I woke up I was disoriented enough that I genuinely couldn't tell for a few minutes if the Vil -> potions prof pipeline was just smth the dream made up or if it was an actual recent Twst development that my brain added details to haha

But in relevancy to the above, do you think Twst is going to have a weird time loop going on forever until the lifespan of the game ends?

The characters have aged in the main storyline, which means at some point the third years will be nearing graduation but would they let that actually happen considering the logistics of how the Twst game is set up?

***SLAMS BIG MEATY CLAWS ONTO THE DESK*** This ask reminds me of a L*ona artist I enjoy, @_nantekottai! adhyodwawa I lovingly call them "Dorito-sensei" in my head because I have trouble remembering their actual Twitter handle (sorry...). Why "Dorito-sensei"? B-Because they have a tendency to draw L*ona with very broad shoulders and a small waist... They have an "if the NRC dorm leaders came back as teachers" AU that they've done a few comics for. I’m a HUGE fan of it 😤 and you should be too/j

Here are all the installments! (P.S. shoutout to @/curekibouka for helping me double check the teacher profiles ^^)

Riddle, Leona, Azul as teachers

Riddle: “Next, turn to page 128 of the textbook. The next part we read aloud will be on the test, so take notes.” Magic History professor. Exemplary teacher. Very nice to serious, good students. Definitely asks questions during class. Usually calm but gets mad at cheeky students and collars them. Supervises Equestrian Club.

Leona: “Teacher! There are students fighting in the cafeteria!” / “Leave’m alone, just let the idiots fight among themselves ‘til they’re done.” Ancient Curses professor. As long as you don’t go against the school rules, he’ll let anything slide. Surprisingly good at taking care of others. If you want to learn, he’ll teach you fairly. Supervises Magift/Spelldrive Club.

Azul: “Welcome, new students!/It’s nice to meet you, new students! I am your Alchemy instructor, Azul Ashengrotto. If you have any worries outside of class, such as in your daily lives, please feel free to come talk to me. I will offer a helping hand, just as the great Sea Witch would… fufufu.” Alchemy professor. Very kind despite being employed at NRC, so many freshmen fall for his scams. His desire to find people’s greatest weaknesses aside, he’s an excellent teacher. Supervises Board Game Club. Owns Mostro Lounge.

Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus as teachers

Kalim: “Let’s do an improv live for today’s class!” Musicology professor. Super energetic even in early morning classes. Frequently talks about Jamil; you end up learning about both music and Jamil in his classes. Supervises Light/Pop Music Club.

Vil: “Do you have any questions about the class?” Potionology professor. Beautiful. Every generation of Pomefiore students has a fan club for him, but every generation of Ignihyde students fears him. Also good at taking care of the students so he is popular with them (like Leona is). Supervises Film Research Club.

Idia: “Hey, prof!” / “Eh… me…?” No subject is listed. Mostly runs lessons remotely. The few times when he does show up on campus in-person, the students go nuts. “You’re a teacher, at least wear a suit.” — Riddle. “At least tie up your hair.” — Vil. Because Idia is too scared to disagree with either of them, he obeys. Advises Board Game Club. Feels like a completely different person when he plays with Azul.

Malleus: “Staying up so late again, child of man?” Subject is listed as ??? Always a wandering near Ramshackle at night. Students are scared of him, but he would gladly help with their studies if they asked. Supervises Gargoyle Studies Club (members: 0).

Azul's high school memories - Azul is asked about his time as a student. He recalls when Leona sanded his contracts, when he was kidnapped by S.T.Y.X., and when Malleus put him to sleep with disaster-level magic. His poor student can’t keep up with the insanity of his recollections.

Leona's mark (part 1) - a mob student asks Leona to doodle on their exam if they get a good grade (since their other teachers do this).

Staff meeting - due to reports of a strange light near Ramshackle at night, the teachers must take patrol shifts. Idia complains, Leona suggests the light is some troublesome student waving around a light stick. Idia is offended by the insinuation that he might be the guilty culprit. Kalim wants to see him with the light sticks. Riddle is mad they’re off-topic; Vil calms him. The truth is that Malleus is the source of the light. He wants to interact with students, but they run away from him.

Leona's mark (part 2) - mob student shares the doodle they got from Leona to others; the mobs are distracted by the thought of that doodle.

The reason why you were struggling to tell if your dream was real or not is because dreams are actually processed by the brain as though they were actual events that happened to us irl. Very interesting trivia!

I don't know if we can really accurately predict the future of Twst, but personally I wouldn't want a time loop. Setting aside me just not being a fan of that trope, I think it would be really pointless because it would regress the characters and/or keep them from further developing. That's never been what Twst has aimed for. We are meant to want to see these characters overcome their trauma and develop closer bonds with one another, not see them repeat the same mistakes over and over again. I also think that, with book 7 confirming the passage of time, Twst intends to slowly inch forward (recall that 7 books took us 5+ years to reach). They'll probably find some loopholes or ways to keep graduating characters around and/or introduce new characters into the main cast to keep it stacked. After all, events are always there to be non-canon to the main story and offer alternate paths. Yuu might honestly be trapped in Twisted Wonderland forever + take on a career as NRC staff or something just to keep them relevant in the narrative.

[askoverkill]

wait last concept art thing i wanna post lol

here's the actual initial drawings i did for the AU!

it all started from a concept that i can't explain because. it's a major spoiler. but i had the loose idea and i pitched it to my isat-headed nightfell team members. here's the drawings that went alongside it!

transcript + img IDs below:

less so of a "make this into a big thing" and more so "haha funny gonna make a comic"

might be easier to sketch out the og concept than describe it

its called: Hat Overkill

the sky is permamently red, Dormont reeks of burnt sugar, there's a neverending wailing coming from the house etc. shits fucked

siffrin comes to town and meets another them, one who has been traveling alone but [redacted] Siffrin

[img id: two crudely drawn siffrins are standing next to the castled version of the House. The sky is red with red star cracks across. narration: "this sucks bruh" id end.]

so the siffrins enter the House together cause like, wtf else they gonna do? and so the party carry on like usual up until they get to the death corridor

where, fucking hell, they find the boulder is already set off and there's a dead body under it

unsure if the body would be decomposed to a skeleton or if it'd look fresh/or be frozen

anyway siffrin, ofc, dies somehow

probably from the weird, overun saddnesses that are strangely overpowered

lot more than usual

anyway he wakes up, voice tells them to go to the favor tree, and there....

[img id: loop sits at the favor tree, looking casual. Next to the tree are dirt mounds. id end.]

there's suspiciously a lot of freshly dug mounds of dirt beside the favor tree

Loop is like, extra so done and grim. just outright telling the Siffrins they're doomed, maybe this time make a wish that won't add to the dirt pile, its getting a lil crowded over here teehee

[tales-from-elysivm]

Jinx x f!reader and their first kiss, date, time, fight, all that couple stuff short little pieces of girlies being cute

★。／ get jinxed ＼。★

pairing: jinx x f!reader

fandom: arcane

word count: 1,612

tw: canon typical swearing/slang, some light spoiler warnings, and some suggestive/NSFW content! MDNI!

notes: this is a fic i am really excited for! Thank you again for the request anon! It was really fun to write, and i got through it pretty quickly to be perfectly honest because of that haha. Not proofread because im tired, and i have no shame :D enjoy!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

➼ first date with jinx 

You worked under Silco delivering shimmer across Zaun. Of course, you knew you shouldn’t have been doing this, it could get you arrested without question and you’d find yourself in Stillwater. But it paid well, and working so closely with the Eye of Zaun meant you didn’t have to worry as much about danger in Zaun. People saw you as a god-send, you gave them their weekly hit, if anything, the danger made them respect you. 

It was during this time that you met Jinx, while picking up your next delivery of shimmer from Silco’s warehouse. She had been there to speak with him privately about some arson issue that happened in Piltover. You had heard briefly about a lanky, blue-haired girl that would build bombs in the open space beneath the warehouse, but it was rare that anyone had ever seen her. But you managed. Somehow.

She intercepts you on your trade route, setting bombs off in the street just across from one of your clients. Jinx claims to recognise you from skulking around the warehouse. And at some point her chaotic energy and her strange inability to sit still seems to lull you into some sense of security. She’s just the perfect idea of unpredictability that you needed in your otherwise boring Zaunite lifestyle. (Though you were very lucky, all things considered.)

Your first date is a simple diner one. At first, you didn’t even know it was a date, just that she wanted to do something fun with you. She takes you in to meet her favourite bartender Chuck, who seems to almost slink beneath the counter when she drags you in. I feel like Jinx would give you a little monkey bomb as a gift for your first date - though it isn’t set, it’s pretty harmless. Other than that she bombards you with strange bursts of Jinx-aligned humour, and rambles at length about her various inventions, promising to take you down to her workshop to show you everything, while tightly gripping your fingers with chipped blue nails. 

And something in those bright, blue eyes makes you think that maybe this unpredictability could be quite fun. 

‘Don’t ya get bored frownin’ like that?’ jinx drums her nails on her glass, the clinking echoing throughout the empty bar. It was quite odd, you reckon, for it to be this quiet, but maybe its just jinx. 

In her own way of trying to get a smile out of you she starts spouting some random jokes. Tries telling her own funny stories. They all mostly revolve around bombs or explosive presentations she’s organised at piltover events. Mainly the absurdity of it all gets a laugh out of you, or you just smile at the giddy, child-like happiness you see in her eyes. Something that seems so pure (ignoring the fact that she’s probably an arsonist and on several watchlists)

‘There ya go!’ she cheers, grabbing onto your hands and interlacing your fingers. You think maybe you should paint your nails too to match her, see if it makes her happy. ‘You look so much prettier with a smile, trinket’

➼ first kiss with jinx 

It was after your third or fourth date that you ended up spending your free time in the warehouse. Jinx begins showing you all the new inventions she’s making, and all her designs for cartoony monkey bombs, you even help her draw out a few, including a cutesy little cat one that she isn’t as fond of, but she still makes one for you. 

Most of your relationship consists of Jinx making you little trinkets, like keychains, safe bombs, little bracelets and rings, and strange, misshapen sculptures made of leftover metal pieces. 

She loves you, in a very Jinx-way. She’s touchy but never very pushy. Long hugs, cuddles on a couch that she has balancing on a metal propellor in her warehouse, letting you braid her hair when she’s tired (please brush her hair, she will melt, and she needs some softness), holding hands in Zaun or dragging you to her private meetings with Silco. Whether you like it or not, you have the Eye of Zaun as an adopted father figure now. He isn’t quite sure what to think about it either. 

It is one of those cuddle sessions, after she is plagued by the voices that taunt her, that you end up just holding her face into your neck and sitting with her. These are the most important to her, like she can feel safe for once. 

‘Thank ya toots,’ she curls around you, straddling your lap and looking down on you with an innocent pout on her face. You don’t have to ask what she’s thanking you for, this has become a pretty regular occurrence. 

In her moment of calmed silence, you untie one of her braids and begin to brush through her long, blue locks with your fingers. She immediately melts into your hands, leaning forward to lean into your chest, gazing up at you. 

‘I feel like ya deserve somethin,’ she says absently, tapping her chin with one nail. Then a mischievous smile crosses her lips. ‘C’mere!’

She eagerly grabs your cheeks, barely giving you a second to register what’s happening before she smushes your faces together. Her lips are chapped, but her kiss is so enthusiastic that you have to take a moment before returning it. Your hand grips her hair in between tight fingers. 

The rest of your cuddle sesh is spent with soft, hurried kisses.

➼ first fight with jinx 

You don’t often fight with Jinx, you don’t like to yell at her or be upset, and watch her usually gleeful expression drop into that of a kicked puppy. But you were worried about her this time. 

She had gone up to piltover against Silco’s wishes again, most likely to stir up trouble, so he decided to send you after her to drag her back to Zaun. When you had gotten there however, you found only the debris of her explosions, the spraypaint she loved, clouds of coloured smoke, and guards everywhere. 

And no Jinx.

No sign of her or where she could be, you had no choice but to return to Zaun before you got dragged into the oncoming investigation, empty-handed. You spend the rest of the day worrying over where she might be in her workshop, sitting with your head in your hands on the couch. Is she hurt? Captured? She could be dead for all you know.

So when she shows up again, seemingly ignorant to how long she has been gone or the stress she has caused, you can’t help but raise your voice, crying about how you had expected the worst. You scream back and forth for a bit before she leaves you to burn off her energy.

‘Hey trinket,’ the door to her warehouse screeches open, and she stands in the entrance, looking at you as you sit on the couch, barely even looking at her. ‘Ya still mad at me?’

She sighs when she doesn’t get a response, coming close to wipe at the dried tear-stains on your cheeks, setting down her tools and her guns to favour your face between her hands. Jinx makes sure you can see only her.

‘I’m sorry i vanished, i didnt mean to scare ya, honest.’ she pulls you down to lean into her shoulder, still stroking your cheeks with her fingers. ‘Can ya forgive me, trinket? I’ll make it up to ya, i promise.’

Jinx cuddles with you on the couch for the rest of the day, showering you in kisses at your request. Safe to say, you can’t stay mad at her for very long at all.

|| ! mdni content below ! ||

➼ first time with jinx 

Jinx has always loved touching you, whether it’s a hand on your knee, an arm around your shoulder, or a hug from behind. She just loves to be close to you. But when you begin talking about the idea of sex with her she immediately jumps on the idea (and probably jumps on you as soon as you bring it up, you only barely manage to drag her somewhere private)

She’s an enthusiastic lover in all things, of course. Fucking you isn’t going to be any different. But she’s gentle the first time, despite it all, she doesn’t really know what she’s doing, i don’t think Silco really prepared her for intimate relationships. 

But still, having sex with Jinx is amusing, its not serious, always cracking little jokes or tickling each other and finding little ways to be comfortable with the process. You can’t really find it in you to be nervous. 

She’d start slowly with you though, if you wanted, just to make you comfortable <3 

‘God trinket, ya look s’ pretty like this for me,’ she’s already slightly breathless, skirting her hands and dragging her chipped nails over your ribs. She lays you down on the couch in her warehouse, sitting between your thighs, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

‘Ya feel alright?’ she checks in occasionally, just to be sure. 

But she lets her hands wander at the same time, she can tell you aren’t going to say no just by the look in your eyes, urging her to continue. She lets her hands travel over your stomach and down in between your thighs, but she doesn’t hurry where you need her. No, she prefers to tease you. Just a little bit to get you squirming. 

When she does finally reach your core, dipping her fingers in between your folds, does she finally let up and give you what you want.

[httpvomitello]

Helloooo, can I request something for the 2018 turtles (ROTTMNT)? The reader arrives with the guys to show them the softshell turtle they got as a gift at a school science fair. Since they're not very sure how to take care of it, they go to the guys for help. And the turtle... it looks just like the one from The Amazing World of Gumball. I just think it would be fun to see the turtles (especially Donnie) interacting with the evil turtle haha 😭

OMG NOT THAT FREAKING TURTLE 😭😭 When I learned that Donnie is a softshell turtle, my mind immediately went to that turtle from Gumball. Like... Seriously??? That turtle is the reincarnation of evil, that's for sure. Anyways ~ i hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Leo is so pumped when you show up with a turtle

He’s already imagining the epic sibling turtle bonding he’ll all have, and he’s definitely scheming ways to turn your new buddy into his own personal sidekick

But as he leans in to get a better look, he catches the turtle giving him a super intense, villainous stare

"Uh, why is he looking at me like that?" Leo laughs nervously, tapping the glass of its little tank

The turtle does not break eye contact

In fact, it somehow looks like it’s plotting something

After a long, intense staring contest (which Leo loses), Leo's more hyped than ever

“Oh, we’re keeping him. This little guy’s got edge.”

He decides to call it something like "Sidekick Jr", and he tries to train it to glare on command, thinking it’ll be perfect to bring it to battle with him

Obviously you don't let that happen.

Raph’s eyebrows shoot up the second he sees the turtle

“Whoa. That turtle is… cute.”

Lying is not Raph's focus

He is all in for helping you take care of it

But as soon as he leans in, the turtle levels him with a stare so intense that Raph is slightly taken aback

“This guy looks like he could plan a heist,” he jokes, but he’s half-serious

He’s convinced the turtle has some secret agenda and will not let it out of his sight

Raph takes pride in helping you build a “fortified tank” to protect it from any “potential escape attempts.”

He even draws up “exercise drills” to help it “build character.”

He ends up calling it something like “Lil’ Warrior”

The turtle's name is Bob

And he spends a suspicious amount of time training it to recognize commands, because “A turtle like this needs discipline.”

Donnie’s reaction is extreme caution

Like... wtf? How is this turtle so ugly?

(He completely forgot that he is also a softshell turtle)

He’s thrilled you came to him about turtle care, especially because this guy is a fellow softshell

But then he notices the turtle’s… ominous glare

For the next ten minutes, Donnie just stares back, analyzing every detail

The turtle doesn’t blink

It feels like a showdown

"This isn’t just any turtle, you know," he mutters, more to himself

He immediately runs diagnostics on it, pulling out his tools to test its temperament and intelligence level, just in case

Donnie takes the turtle care seriously, sets up the perfect tank, gets the optimal UV lamp, and is constantly researching enrichment activities, but he still doesn’t entirely trust it

You catch him putting up tiny lasers around the tank "just in case."

And he insists on renaming it something like “Professor Menace” because, in his words

“Look at that face—he’s clearly up to something.”

Mikey’s reaction is pure delight. “Aw! Look at the lil’ guy!”

He immediately wants to hold it, but as soon as he picks it up, the turtle gives him a side-eye that could curdle milk

Yes, the turtle is judging Michelangelo

He tries everything

Offering lettuce, sweet-talking it, giving it little pets, but the turtle just stares, expression unreadable but somehow… sinister

“Why does he keep looking at me like that?” Mikey wonders, confused but determined to win the turtle’s affection

He’s convinced it just needs a bit of “good vibes,” so he tries playing calming music, talking to it about his day, and even painting a little flower on the tank

Despite the turtle’s apparent indifference

(And slightly ominous glare)

Mikey’s convinced they’re best friends

He starts calling it “Lil’ Grump,” swearing it’ll warm up eventually.

[730kc]

Last one for now, thanks for sending so many prompts! ^^

Prompt merge: leather jacket x turtleneck university setting, tongue, BJ, ice cream (?)

poipiku

Thank you all for sending your wonderful ideas and joining me for the wild weekend, lol.

It was super fun looking through so many great ideas and thinking up ways to merge them into a picture haha. For the prompts not addressed, hopefully I'll be able to draw it some time later. Regardless, thanks for sending them in!

Until next time!

[hstayafanart]

Super short snippet that got deleted from the next fic but that I thought was cute anyway. This took a couple weeks to finish! I finally landed a job in bush regeneration and I've been so tired after work haha. But I'm loving it, even if I am covered in mud and leeches!

It's not technically cannon that Nightmare's skull is shattered, but it's a headcannon I adore. This tiny snippet is meant to be set at the castle, but I didn't want to draw it in every panel so you get gradients instead.

[Unrelated, but I logged on to find a whole wave of new peeps have arrived here?? I mean, welcome! That's fantastic! But I have concerns that my A03 followers that live in my walls have invited guests. Hope you enjoy your time here <3]