#▍* ❪ YOU ARE ALWAYS ALONE WITH YOUR ACTIONS. ❫ —— inquisition.

[dollfacefantasy]

kenny. omg. hear me out. being rick’s stress relief during the alexandria arc of s5 😵‍💫 like omg yeah he’s clean shaven now but can’t go two days w/o fighting w someone from alexandria, got restrained by michonne n everything… figures he needs smth else to keep the group in alexandria’s good graces and settles on smth along the lines of free use w you!! can’t be too shitty of a day if you get fucked into the mattress by the end of it ♡

hnghhh em omg i love you so bad. ur genius for this. i put a little backstory because i'm physically incapable of not being longwinded lol <3

rick grimes x fem!reader

rick needs a little stress relief with all the new responsiblities at alexandria

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap (early 20s/late 30s)

You always thought stress was supposed to decrease someone’s sex drive, but now that you were getting fucked dumb every single night, you were sure that wasn’t true.

Rick had to be the most wound up person you’d ever known, constantly up in arms about something. Ever since he and his group arrived at your once peaceful community, there’d been nothing but conflict. At best it was petty drama, at worst guns were drawn and brains were about to be splattered all over the pavement.

The worst it got was that day you saw him in the middle of the street hunched over the doctor like a rabid dog. You’d stayed back, keeping your distance from him as he waved his gun around and rambled on about control. Crimson blood dripped from his hairline all over his face. You couldn’t tell whether it belonged to him or the incapacitated man beneath him.

You’d never seen anyone like him. Living in Alexandria since the start of the outbreak meant you were pretty sheltered. The people here rarely raised their voices let alone tackled each other through windows. He looked like the physical manifestation of what everyone warned you life outside the walls was like.

It was scary, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

Needless to say, you were pretty eager to offer yourself up to take the position watching him while the others decided what to do going forward.

You entered the room while he was still asleep. He was as peaceful as you’d ever seen him. Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, you looked at him almost as if he was encased in glass, a specimen for your examination. His skin still had the scarlet tint of blood. His brown curls lie stuck between his temple and the ratty old pillow on the bed.

It startles you a bit when his eyes flutter open and connect with yours. Awkwardness sludges through your veins, but he looks you over like it’s nothing. You know you’re one of the least threatening people he’s come across in the new world. 

“You’re the one they got babysitting me, huh?” he rasps.

“I guess so,” you respond with more timidness than you would like.

His tongue slides out between his lips and licks the chapped skin while he continues to stare you down. It’s hard not to squirm in your seat, to shift your thighs against one another and make your desire known. Before you have a chance to think through your course of action though, he speaks again.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, his tone not looking to provoke a reaction but simultaneously wanting you to recognize your inferiority.

You shrug. He wasn’t gonna get the satisfaction. Not yet anyways.

“Are you scared of me?” he continues.

“No,” you answer.

“Good,” is all he says in response.

That was the last thing he said to you that day, but you could still hear the simple syllable in your mind. He might have been done talking to you. You weren’t through with him though. Under the guise of being assigned to watch him, you continued to linger around him as he went about his tasks in the community.

You tended to follow him around like a puppy. You were curious about him, watching him with inquisitive eyes, peeking over his shoulder as he cleaned his gun or tuned his transceiver. Your gazes were adoring too. It was obvious that you admired the way he could take control of a room with his words, how his people looked to him with reverence when he spoke.

He intoxicated you. In a world lacking things to do, observing Rick became a hobby for you.

He noticed of course, but he couldn’t say he minded. At least someone in this fucking place had an interest in survival and saw the value in listening to him. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were pretty cute. He didn’t mind your company, didn’t mind teaching you things here and there. In his eyes, you were the least annoying out of all the new people here.

You both were on watch when you got a little promotion from least annoying. The two of you were sitting on the platform attached to the wall. It was night. Neither of you could sleep. Instead of telling you bits and pieces of the nightmares that kept sleep from him, he decided to teach you how to put a scope on a rifle. Nodding along to each thing he says, you watch his fingers and take note of every little thing he does. He gives you a few tries with it, but you’re still struggling to get the thing attached.

That’s when he looks at you, his expression unchanging, and pats his lap.

“C’mere.”

It’s out of your control really. You don’t even have a second to think about it before your legs have pushed you across the platform to the spot he beckoned you. With your back against his chest, his arms encase you and come around front to show you up close how to fasten the scope. When he’s done, he detaches it and makes you try.

His hands slide down your arms, lingering on the skin for longer than needed. They trail down to your sides then your hips. You bite your lip and try to focus on the task he wants you to perform rather than his touch. But then he leans forward to watch your hands work. His chin hovers above your shoulder. You can hear his breaths next to your ear. Once you’ve got it, you can essentially picture his subtle smirk in your mind.

“Good girl,” he croons teasingly.

You turn your head slightly, looking at him with your wide, innocent eyes. He chuckles and reaches up to stroke your cheek. Neither of you know what you’re really doing but one thing leads to another and you’re kissing. Then he’s got his hand up your shirt, groping your tits. It all comes to head and ends up with you straddling him, sinking down on his cock and burying your head in his shoulder.

Biting the fabric of his t-shirt to keep quiet, you begin to rise and fall. It felt so good as if it was what your body had been aching for. You felt the most alive you ever had in this shitty new world, and if the way he was gripping your hips and returning your thrusts were any indication, Rick felt the same way.

You both grunt and moan quietly as your bodies rut together with a primal desire for satisfaction. His lips glide over your collarbone and up your neck to the spot behind your ear. You let out a sharp whine which causes him to grin.

“Need you to be quiet, sweetheart,” he chides, “Don’t want to wake any of the others, do you?”

You’re quick to shake your head and cover your mouth with your palm, but you don’t stop bouncing. You needed him deep, rearranging your insides to a perfect mold for him.

“Then again,” he breathes, “They could stand to learn a thing or two from you. So obedient, eager to please…”

His words trail off as he helps you ride him. You’re so tight and warm, and for the first time since he set foot through those walls, his mind feels clear. He doesn’t hear the constant jabbering for his attention. His head doesn’t throb with the sensation of being pulled in five different directions. It’s like each thrust into your heat clears away a worry. By the time he cums, he feels drained of all his stress.

He needed more of that feeling. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was the start of a routine for the two of you. Everyday at least once, you were getting fucked till you were a drooling, dazed mess. And sometimes it was more than once. Sometimes he had you on your knees in the armory in the afternoon or pulled you into a storage closet on a morning supply run.

He had fifteen years on you, but most of the time he was the one leaving you exhausted.

And today had been a particularly bad day for Rick. Everything that could go wrong did. Alexandria was running low on a collection of different things, walkers were gathering at the East wall, one of the gate’s locks was rusting, a sprinkler broke, and on top of everything, he had to deal with everyone’s constant bitching.

The only thing that kept him from losing his shit was the thought of you laid in his bed at night waiting for him, batting your long eyelashes over those pretty doe eyes as you sat there in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of panties. The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough.

He grits his teeth and dashes all across the community to try and get everything solved by sundown. The workload keeps him busy which fortunately makes the time go by faster. He also tries his best to keep his cool with people. There was no use starting petty conflicts when he had something much nicer to screw with now.

As soon as everyone’s headed off to bed and all the perimeters have been checked, he can’t get home fast enough. He’s quiet coming in. He didn’t wanna wake anyone. If someone got in his way now, he’d flip his lid worse than any of them had ever seen.

He’s up the stairs in seconds, taking them two at a time. Whisking the bedroom door open, a deep sigh seeps from his lungs as he sees his daydreams become realities of the night. Your pretty legs are on display for him as you lounge in the bed reading a book. He crosses the room and grabs you by the ankle to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. You already know what time it is and feel a dull tingle in the pit of your belly.

“Stressful day?” you ask as you finish the page you were on.

“Is the sky still blue?” he grumbles as he presses a kiss to your calf then another further up against your knee.

You smile at the quip, placing the book on the nightstand just in time as he flips you over onto your stomach. He climbs on top of you, squeezing your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Those people don’t even know how much they should be thanking you, baby,” he mumbles, “They don’t even know how many times a day you save their asses.”

You squirm a little beneath him as his fingers hook around your panties and tug them down. The sound of his zipper follows and it’s no time before you feel the weight of his dick against you.

“Needed you so bad all day,” he says.

“I needed you too,” you whimper as you feel slick gathering between your thighs.

He nips at your earlobe and rubs his hands up under his shirt you have on to tease the sides of your breasts.

“S’cute, honey,” he whispers, “Thinking about me while you did your little chores, hm?”

“Yeah,” you whine as he starts to line himself up and slot himself in the correct position.

It was such a familiar feeling, but each time it still made a chill run through you. Your insides ached with the pleasure that came from being filled up by him.

“Perfect girl. That’s just the way it should be,” he mutters.

He wastes no time before he starts thrusting. It only takes a couple before he starts groaning too. On nights like these, he was in no mood to take his time or savor the moment.

“So tight for me, Christ,” he chokes out, “There’s nothing like you.”

You moan softly too, putting your head down to muffle your sounds with the blanket. His hand rests around your neck for leverage as he fucks into you faster.

“That’s right, pretty baby. You’re so good for me. Givin’ me what I need. You’re the only one who can,” he grunts.

He snaps his hips harder, trying to find the limit of how hard he could go without being too loud or smacking the headboard into the wall. You claw at the ratty blankets on the bed as your toes curl. Your head turns to the side a little to peek up at him, and his eyes roll back.

“Everyone’s always fucking looking to me for something. No one can look at me like you can though. Those gorgeous eyes, all glossy for me. Not a thought behind ‘em right now,” he pants.

You nod weakly while digging your teeth into your lip again. It was getting harder to suppress the noises with the blanket alone.

“Rick…” you whimper, “Oh fuck, Rick.”

You gasp as he starts hitting the perfect spot. His stiff cock slips effortlessly in and out of you over and over and brushes that nook each time.

“Mhm. You’re the only one I wanna hear calling my name. Everyone here’s always whining for me, bitching for something. Not my girl though. The only time I hear you whining is when I’m balls deep, fucking you like you deserve,” he whispers.

You nod against the mattress. Your body rocks with the momentum of each thrust. Every stroke was working you closer to the edge, and Rick could feel his own impending as well.

Both his hands slide down to your hips to grip them hard. He keeps grinding and rolling his hips into you.

“Give it to me, princess. Lemme feel it. Gotta get my fix,” he says just as you start to tense up and jerk around below him.

You cum with a high moan into the plush fabric beneath you. Your body trembles and twitches as it handles the rush of euphoria. He keeps fucking you through it. His own noises start getting needier, closer to whimpers than groans. He grunts for a second as he finally feels release. He pulls out quickly and lets it spurt all over your ass. He’d so much rather do it inside, but he really didn’t need something else to worry about nine months from now.

With his release, the both of you are able to settle down for the night. He rolls off of you and quickly gets you cleaned up, so he can crawl into bed and hold you against his chest. The second most soothing thing to your pussy was the warmth of your body against him.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always make things so good for me,” he sighs and lazily kisses your head, ready to drift off with the comfort of knowing this little scene would repeat itself tomorrow.

[beenbaanbuun]

the ghost - opposites attract universe

in front of the fire stands a broad shouldered man dressed in furs, staring down at your rug as if it means just as much to him as it does you. you don’t recognise him as a friend of your lovers, although it’s possible that you just haven’t met this one yet. you wrack your brain for names they might have mentioned, but each one that pops up in your mind is someone you’ve met before. that means that this man is a stranger.

you want to call out to him, ask him what the fuck he was doing in your home. perhaps you’d grab yeosang’s attention at the same time; the werewolf may be just a few steps behind you, but he is surprisingly unaware of his surroundings. maybe he’d leap into action, chase the intruder out of the house. but then you blink and the man is gone, completely vanished like he’s some sort of…

ghost…

“did you just see that?” you ask yeosang, the werewolf slowly coming to a stop behind you with a strip of jerky hanging lazily between his lips. he really hasn’t been paying attention to much other than the way your hair shines prettily under the dim candles that light the home, so it’s safe to say that he has no idea what it is you’re talking about. he gives you a questioning hum as he rips the jerky with his teeth.

“see what?” his voice is muffled by the meat that he insists on chewing as he speaks. the sound of his lips smacking sends an unsatisfying shiver down your spine, and your mouth tugs into a frown.

“so i guess the answers no?” you scoff, crossing your arms in irritation, “some guard dog you are; i don’t think you’d be able to spot an intruder if he came up to you and gave you a handshake!”

yeosang doesn’t respond to your insult, merely rolling his eyes before tugging you over to jongho, the rug, to cuddle. always so dramatic, he thinks to himself as he flops onto the floor and gestures for you to join him. you do, lying straight on his chest in a way that seems to force all the air out of his lungs. normally, he’d pin you for that, holding you to the floor until you’re promising him to be more gentle through your honestly insulting giggles. though, he finds that with the lack of air in his lungs, it’s rather difficult to flip the two of you over. next time, he concludes before wrapping his tail protectively around your thigh.

a few hours later, you find yourself in the greenhouse with seonghwa, watching the graceful man tend to his plants as he hums out a pretty tune. yeosang is long gone, deciding to take some alone time after listening to you ramble about your most recent interest, book binding, for as long as he could stand to. he gave you some fake excuse of needing to ask hongjoong about something, but you aren’t quite dumb enough to believe that. especially when you watched him walk in the opposite direction of the office you knew your daddy was in.

still, you don’t really mind having your time away from your friend. it gives you the opportunity to spend time with your lovers without the grumpy mutt offering his snarky comments every few sentences.

“hey, seonghwa?” you say, voice lilting with curiosity as you push yourself up to sit on his work bench. there’s a grimace on his face as he watches your thighs press down against the dirt covered wood, the compost and debris no doubt rubbing into the material of your denim shorts. its fine, he tells himself; it’ll come out with a little manpower… hopefully.

“what is it, lamb?” seonghwa hums as he tugs his cotton gardening gloves from his hands and lays them perfectly straight on the table. his fingertips are painted with a deep shake of purple today, done by hongjoong’s fair hands just the night before. as he lays a hand on your exposed thigh, you can’t help but think that the colour looks pretty against your skin.

“do you think ghosts are real?”

the question takes seonghwa by surprise, you can see by the way his eyes go wide and his blinks slow for just a moment or two. he lets out an inquisitive hum, lips pursing slightly as he tries to think of an answer.

“well, i know they’re real,” seonghwa purrs as he gently spreads your thighs, stepping between them so he can look you in the eyes. he’s pretty from this close up—not that he isn’t always pretty—with his wide eyes twinkling and pink lips so beautifully plush. you so badly want to steal a kiss from him, but you also want to know the answer to your question. you hold back for now; there’ll be plenty of time for kissing later. “why are you asking?”

you almost tell him, but just before the words fall from your lips, you hold back. perhaps telling one of your lovers that you saw a man in their living room would be cause for concern. whilst you’re almost entirely convinced that he was a ghost, the only proof you have is that one moment he was there and the next he wasn’t. it’s very plausible that he was just really good at hiding, or maybe he was just a figment of your imagination. if either of those turn out to be the case, seonghwa will worry. you don’t want that, so you keep your theory to yourself.

“i’m just curious, hwa,” you offer him a smile, but you can tell he sees through it. he gives you a low hum, a single eyebrow cocking an question. the fake smile remains on your face, so he lets it go, understanding that he’s not going to get the truth out of you so easily.

“well, what do you want to know, my darling lamb?” he asks, using a long finger to hook some hair behind your ear, “you never know, i might just have the answers, hm?” the same hand settles on your cheek, palm cupping your face like you’re the most precious thing on earth.

you pause for a moment. what do you want to know about ghosts? you’d come to seonghwa with just the one question in mind; did they exist? he’d answered that one with ease and now you’re stuck on where to go next. realistically, you should probably focus on trying to find out whether the man in the living room was one or not; how on earth are you supposed to do that without revealing the truth?

seonghwa chuckles as he watches your expression contort onto one of concentration. it’s adorable, the way that your worry lines look between your brows. the way you tug on your bottom lip with your teeth, the white enamel now lined with the pretty pink gloss you reapplied not too long ago. if he didn’t think you looked entirely too cute like that, perhaps he’d tell you about it so you could wipe it away. for now, though, he’s happy to sit and bask in your sweetness.

“what’s so difficult about thinking up a question?” seonghwa leans forward to place a kiss to the tip of your nose when he finds that he can no longer hold himself back. the grin on his face as he pulls away is wide. “i can think of a million off the top of my head.”

you me face relaxes as he teases you. a deadpan glare is thrown in his direction, but it does nothing to faze him. he’s still watching you like you hold the world in your hands.

“like what?” you retaliate, mock annoyance laced through your tone.

“like,” he pauses for a second, pouting as he sorts through the wide array of cryptid knowledge that’s stored itself in his brain. you can practically see the lightbulb pop up above his head a few seconds later as he lands on something. “how do ghosts come into existence?”

“someone dies?” you shrug, and seonghwa lets out a chuckle.

“yes, but it’s so much more than that, lamb,” he smiles. there’s a hint of amusement in his face with the way the corners of his lips tilt up, but you ignore it in favour of looking into his adoring eyes. they’re mostly pupil, and the way the light bounces off of them causes them to shine like a hunk of whitby jet. you suck in a deep breath as you try to calm your racing heart. it almost aches with how much you love him. “if you died right now, there would have to be some sort of physical remains tying you to the real world; a lock of hair, or a splatter of blood.”

or the skin of an onikuma…

oh…

“jongho,” you mutter under your breath, suddenly feeling your chest grow tight at the realisation.

“your rug?” seonghwa tilts his head, “what about it?”

you gulp down the lump in your throat, letting it sit in your stomach as an uneasy ball of emotions instead. you don’t have the time nor energy to sift through them or unpack each of them individually. you’re so close to reaching the bottom of the mystery you’d stumbled upon; you won’t let feelings fuck it up now.

“he’s a demon,” you say, looking into seonghwa’s eyes for confirmation. he nods, “and hongjoong said demons have human forms too?”

“sometimes,” seonghwa concludes, “the onikuma… it’s probable that he disguised himself as a villager from time to time. it would’ve helped him scope his hunting ground better.”

jongho probably had a human form. that ball of emotions—is that excitement?—grows bigger.

“and if you were to kill a onikuma and, i don’t know, keep its hide as a trophy, would he come back as a ghost? do demons even have souls? do you even need a soul to be a ghost? what exactly is a soul?”

a hand slips over your racing mouth, effectively cutting your rambles short, shutting you up. seonghwa relaxedly sighs at the moment of peace.

“not even i understand the ins and outs of everything, my silly little lamb,” he snickers, a teasing smirk playing on his lips, “but i do think i understand what you’re trying to ask in your odd, roundabout way.” he pauses to slowly pull his hand away from your lips. his actions say that he trusts you to remain silent, the pace he’s going at tells you that he’s prepared to put his hand right back where it was if you start rambling again. it pleases him to see your lips sealed in a thin, annoyed line. he hums in amusement, “you know, your precious onikuma will probably come back if you call for him; ghosts like to know that the living still have a need for them.”

“you think?” you ask. seonghwa presses another short kiss to your lips, barely giving you time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away again.

“i know,” he murmurs, “now, go and talk to your bear; leave me to work in peace!”

——————————————

that’s how you end up back in the living room, cross legged on jongho’s back like you have been so many times before. the fire crackles behind you, filling the otherwise silent room with the comforting sound of burning wood. you take a deep breath through your nose, pushing it out through your mouth as you try and expel the anxiety that’s muddled itself with the excitement in your stomach.

“jongho?” you say, speaking the name given to him by you; his real name remained a mystery to you. there’s a cold blast of air behind you, and your neck twists at a whiplash pace, eyes landing on the fireplace. there’s nothing there but the white-hot logs and the flames dancing back and forth across them. it must’ve been a gust of wind down the chimney or something. nothing to frighten you at all.

you huff out a breath of relief before letting your head twist slowly back around…

“is that me?” a voice says as your eyes make contact with a pair of pupils that sit a little too close to be comfortable. you scramble back, a little squeak coming from your lips as you move away from the figure that has appeared in front of you. you come to a step just a foot or two away, chest heaving at the sudden fright the man had given you. if it weren’t for the mop of fuzzy brown hair that resembled the fur on your favourite rug a little too closely to be coincidence perhaps you’d have screamed for help. “jongho, i mean… is that my name?”

he tilts his head like a confused animal, tugging at the brown fur hide that rests upon his shoulders as if the action brings him some sort of comfort. and as you look into his eyes, you realise that he probably needs it. they’re wet, glittering with unshed tears of confusion and stress. he keeps blinking them away, but they come back almost instantly. it’s no surprise to you when the first one rolls down his cheek. he wastes no time in wiping it away.

“does that upset you?” you ask, cautiously, “that i’ve given you a name?”

he shakes his head vigorously.

“i’ve never had a name before,” he clarifies; the thought makes your chest ache. to be given a name is to be loved and this poor creature has none. no names, and therefore no love. you think for a moment about how long he’s lived with no love, but it only makes it hurt more. he was slain hundreds of years ago, and he was probably alive for hundreds more. your eyes begin to burn so you push that thought deep down inside of you. “jongho is a nice one to have as my first.”

your heart breaks for the creature. you’d have to have a talk with hongjoong later; how cruel of him to let his resident ghost go uncared for for so long.

“it is,” you try not to take notice of how strained your voice sounds, “and its yours; you’re jongho, if you’d like be.

the man nods, although the tension in his body doesn’t seem to seep away just yet. his shoulders are still hunched up by his ears, and his fingers still twirl the fur he’s wearing mindlessly. you find yourself grateful that it’s just you and him; you can’t bear to think how nervous he’d be if there was a werewolf looming over your shoulder.

“and… who are you?” he asks shyly, and you take a moment to think. within a few seconds, you settle on an answer and smile to yourself.

“a friend,” you reply.

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card:Whats Next in your Love Life? Pick a Guitarist

Left to Right Top Row- Pile 1->Pile 2 Left to Right Bottom Row- Pile 3-> Pile 4

[Bonus: Keanu Reeves Gifs for each pile]

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Pile 1: The Lovers, The Magician, The Star

Drawing The Lovers suggests that aligning yourself with the energy of love is crucial. This card signifies not only romantic love but also harmony and balance within yourself. It's essential to cultivate self-love and embrace your own worth. By loving and respecting yourself, you naturally attract similar energy from others. The Lovers also hint at making a significant choice in love, suggesting that being clear about what you want in a partner and relationship can draw the right person into your life.

The Magician card indicates that you have the power and resources within you to attract love. This card is a reminder that you can create your reality through focused intention and action. Utilize your skills, talents, and personal power to manifest the love you desire. The Star, as the final card in this pile, offers hope and reassurance. It suggests that by staying optimistic and keeping faith in the process, you can attract a fulfilling and beautiful love into your life. Healing past wounds and maintaining a positive outlook will set the stage for new romantic opportunities.

The Adventurous Partner

Loves Travel and Exploration: Always ready for the next adventure, whether it's a weekend road trip or an international journey.

Spontaneous: Enjoys making last-minute plans and trying new activities.

Outgoing and Sociable: Thrives in social settings and enjoys meeting new people.

Active Lifestyle: Prefers outdoor activities and physical challenges, such as hiking, biking, or water sports.

Optimistic and Open-minded: Approaches life with a positive attitude and a willingness to embrace new experiences.

==============================

Pile 2: The Empress, Two of Cups, Ace of Pentacles

The Empress card represents abundance, beauty, and nurturing energy. To attract love, embody the qualities of the Empress by nurturing yourself and others, and by creating a warm and inviting environment. This card encourages you to tap into your feminine energy, regardless of gender, and to focus on self-care and personal growth. The Empress also suggests that you might find love through activities that involve creativity, nature, or caregiving.

The Two of Cups signifies the possibility of a new romantic connection or deepening an existing relationship. It is a card of partnership and mutual attraction. By being open to connections and putting yourself in situations where you can meet new people, you increase your chances of encountering someone special. The Ace of Pentacles indicates a new beginning in the material realm, suggesting that practical steps towards building a secure and stable life can attract love. This could mean focusing on career or financial goals, creating a solid foundation for a future relationship.

The Intellectual Partner

Highly Educated: Values learning and often engaged in intellectual pursuits.

Curious and Inquisitive: Always eager to explore new ideas and deepen their understanding of various topics.

Excellent Communicator: Enjoys deep conversations and can articulate their thoughts clearly and thoughtfully.

Ambitious and Goal-Oriented: Driven to achieve their professional and personal goals.

Thoughtful and Analytical: Makes decisions based on careful consideration and analysis.

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Pile 3: The Hermit, Queen of Cups, Knight of Pentacles

The Hermit card suggests that attracting love into your life might require a period of introspection and solitude. This time alone is meant for self-discovery and understanding what you truly want and need in a relationship. By gaining clarity about your desires and values, you can attract a partner who aligns with your true self. The Hermit encourages you to be patient and trust that the right person will come when you are ready.

The Queen of Cups represents emotional depth, intuition, and compassion. Embracing these qualities within yourself can help you attract a partner who appreciates and reciprocates them. This card encourages you to be open to expressing your feelings and to nurture your emotional well-being. The Knight of Pentacles emphasizes the importance of patience and consistency. Attracting love might require steady, deliberate effort, such as gradually building a friendship that can evolve into something more. Focus on creating a stable and dependable environment that will naturally draw a like-minded partner to you.

The Nurturing Partner

Empathetic and Compassionate: Highly sensitive to the feelings of others and always ready to offer support and comfort.

Family-Oriented: Values close relationships with family and friends and prioritizes these connections.

Patient and Understanding: Exhibits great patience and a deep understanding of human emotions and behaviors.

Loyal and Reliable: Extremely dependable and trustworthy, always there when you need them.

Gentle and Kind: Treats everyone with kindness and respect, creating a warm and loving environment.

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Pile 4: The Fool, Page of Cups, Ten of Pentacles

The Fool card suggests that attracting love into your life might involve taking a leap of faith and being open to new experiences. Embrace spontaneity and be willing to step out of your comfort zone. This card encourages you to approach love with a sense of adventure and a fresh perspective. By being open-minded and willing to take risks, you can attract exciting and unexpected romantic opportunities.

The Page of Cups represents new beginnings in love and emotional openness. It encourages you to be playful, creative, and receptive to the messages your heart is sending you. By embracing a youthful and optimistic attitude towards love, you can attract positive and heartwarming connections. The Ten of Pentacles indicates that focusing on long-term stability and building a strong foundation can help you attract love. This card suggests that envisioning a future filled with abundance, security, and family can draw a partner who shares these values. Creating a vision for your ideal relationship and working towards it can manifest the love you seek.

The Creative Partner

Artistic and Imaginative: Possesses a strong creative streak, whether in the arts, music, writing, or other creative fields.

Passionate and Expressive: Lives life with passion and isn’t afraid to show their emotions and express themselves.

Innovative Thinker: Comes up with unique and unconventional solutions to problems.

Appreciates Beauty: Has a keen eye for beauty in the world, from nature to art and design.

Open-Minded and Flexible: Welcomes different perspectives and adapts easily to change.

=============================

[bunji-enthusiast]

Actively chewing on the stories

This is so good, any chance there'd be small drabble of Dogday and/or Catnap cuddling with reader who snuck in after hours

NO RUSH TO WORK OF COURSE TAKE YOUR TIME FRIEND

After Hours

Note || finally got this one, adorable request <3

WC || 690

DogDay –

By no means were you entirely an affectionate person, but you craved attention from time to time. Only someone in particular could fulfill your kind of need, you only wanted to cuddle DogDay. He was a positive boy, a beaming dog of joy. Always ready to help children and his friends alike, but you wonder if he was willing to comply with your cuddly needs.

You just didn’t want to be alone and by yourself, so you snuck in after hours, after everyone was gone and went to DogDay.

You tapped on his shoulder, as he appeared to be asleep. The sunny dog jostled at your sudden appearance, “A-angel?” He took a deep breath, holding a large paw to his fluffy chest as he did so. You smiled awkwardly and stood on the balls of your feet, waiting for him to get adjusted to your sudden appearance. 

“So.. hi DogDay.” You nervously spoke, as if there was an undercurrent of giggly nervousness hinted about in your voice. You didn’t know what to say next, so DogDay had finally spoken in return.

“Sweetheart, why are you here? Everyone’s out and done for the day.” DogDay spoke with an inquisitive mind, sitting down once more as he settled into the ambience. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, finding it ridiculous that you had even gone through with this anyhow. Making him uncomfortable was the last thing you wanted to do. Oh why did you think about doing this? You were practically breaking rules, but you wanted to feel selfish just this once. 

You crossed your arms, to feel smaller when you truly finally spoke. “I just wanted to cuddle with you.. Please?”

He huffed with a knowing sigh, motioning for you to come forward and situate yourself upon his body. You squealed with a happy tone, finding victory in this small action. You immediately curled up against him, wasting no time to find yourself to be comfortable. DogDay was warm and smelled obviously of vanilla, it was reassuring, and it helped you to sleep.

DogDay was inebriated, surprised at most at your bold yet shy defiance of the usual employee regulations. But admittedly, he had grown fond of you in ways he hadn’t felt for others, so many and just maybe he can allow himself to feel this nice alongside you. 

“Sweet dreams, angel.”

CatNap –

He was sleepy, but unfortunately a huge insomniac at times. CatNap was huge and large, perfect for cuddling, especially staying comfortable and warm. If one wants a good sleep, you can always rely on this giant kitty.

Right now, you just wanted to cuddle CatNap. He was far too adorable and lonely.

Staying back and working overtime isn’t entirely one of your favorite things to do, but you had only agreed to it for purely the fact you can see CatNap. Perhaps request some nuzzles or even cuddles, which was a current goal of yours. You simply adored the sweet kitty, quiet and unethical he may be at times, but you believed he had real good intentions.

You get startled upon feeling a fuzzy sensation brush across your back, you look back to see CatNap in his usual position, not unusual to see the kitty napping quite a lot of the time.

A groan escapes you as you lay back against the leather office chair. You set down the papers with harsh finality, and got up, resuming to join CatNap in his sleep. You were cold and needed a furry someone, that one in particular was him right now.

You just hoped he didn’t mind your sudden audacious presence, you were far too tired to care about the repercussions anyway. Laying down against him, you close your eyes with a content sigh. Feeling yourself drift away to the edge of sleep soon enough.

CatNap was astonished at your sudden change of pace, he relaxed soon enough and laid back down to where he had been before, his tail lazily dragging over and laying on top of you. He had made sure you were comfortable in your position before he went back to sleep himself. 

[carnal-lnstinct]

Greedy.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ( afab ) Content: M / 18+. MINORS DNI.  au. monster fucking. Heian Era Sukuna. corrupted concubine!reader. oral - female receiving. anal. double penetration ( V+A ). overstimulation. size difference. tummy mouth stuff. referenced virginity loss Warning: ( explicit language, light degradation, implied prior noncon in the past ) insp.

‘You have never used this on me.’ The thought crosses your mind as your curiosity becomes action. Your role has gotten to a place where touching him without permission is expected. His own curiosity wins to see what his timid concubine does at her leisure. He watches as human hands smaller than his tickle the skin across his abs. Your fingers trace a seam of what could be referred to as lips. The tightly shut mouth loosens under your inquisitive touch, skin pulling back to reveal the large set of teeth. 

Frightful, disgusting, so much so you couldn't look away at its reveal. You were frozen in place for a moment at the comparison between your fingers and the ivory bite grinning at you. Yet, as with all other monstrous parts of Ryomen Sukuna you've faced, you could only force yourself to quickly get used to it. Like a good concubine— His favorite concubine. Anxieties quickly turned into curious courage so as not to offend the monster you served.

You could scream, you could cry, you could beg, and apologize ‘til you lost your voice, but there was no dread like that of angering the King of Curses. You’ve seen enough servants perish for lesser offenses, but offenses nonetheless.

But maybe in your current headspace, you just wanted to beat yourself to the punch. Tempt your fate and familiarize yourself with a piece of his body that's yet to be disciplined into your routine. It was only a matter of time before you were acquainted with this second mouth of your cursed master for his entertainment. Accustomed to just the one, you couldn’t help but wonder aloud about this other.

“Have you used this on the concubines before me?” Eyes staying low out of fear of looking away from the sharp teeth.

With an amused hum, Sukuna answers. “Yes.” That confirms your thoughts but also shakes your courage as he parts the teeth, revealing the heavy tongue that falls out over the bottom fangs. How many dispensable women stared down this maw before you and didn't walk away, you wonder. “Are you scared?” Your eyes glance up to see how he leered down at you, tilting his head softly with a sinister, yet contained snicker. 

You are always afraid of him, tensing at his grasp and stilling yourself when his fingers brush your cheek until you allow yourself to breathe again. Could you admit you were on edge more than usual? Your hands withdrew further from his body, fingers tucked against your palms.

“It’s terrifying…” You speak, however your voice is clear and steady. Instincts should tell you to back away from it entirely.

Yet, your hands return to the skin of his “lower lip” which surprises Sukuna. The heat breathing out from his monstrous hole was as unnatural as expected, whether it was just the nature of his deformed figure or the vast amount of raw cursed energy in his body. It warmed your skin, just like his kiss. Those hot, parted lips pressed to your mouth and his intruding tongue snuffing out your subdued willpower like it’s nothing. Your entire body would just ignite like an innate high cursed upon you since birth, obedient to the King of Curses until you die. The thought alone swells those sensations inside you, giving life to the venturesome concubine that intrigued him. Your fingers actively brush over the sensitive edge of the large tongue, and then its slick center as it presses into your touch to the tip.

You brought your face closer, lips parting to allow your own tongue to hang and return the licking gesture to the large appendage. The contact burned a dark color into your cheeks, your mind feeding into the delusion that your eagerness could allow you to fit the tip in your mouth if you tried. It was just as you presumed of it, despite its appearance this second mouth was just like any other month, a tongue like any other tongue. Commitment to your impulsive act shattered, however, the heavy taste of iron on it making you withdraw. A thin string of saliva held on between you and the monstrous tongue until it snapped to your chin.

Sukuna could convince many concubines to act as boldly as you have for the sake of their lives, but not like this. None of them were crazy enough to lick that tongue, and certainly not because they wanted to. His eyes widened at your behavior, a rush of heat finding him from the contact as well. You are so different from the others. Always careful of your words and normally hesitant to act without permission, but then you will suddenly do wild shit like this unprovoked and it turns him on every time. And he’s well aware it is something he has awakened inside you. 

You raise your eyes to him briefly before looking away, shifting backward to sit up on the bed in front of him again and gently rubbing the back of your hand across your lips to clean your mouth and poorly hide the shade of color in your cheeks. The Cursed Man squints at you trying to crawl yourself back into your meek shell, the way you think he wants you to be. As if there wasn’t a heat brewing between your legs and ready to run over.

“Please forgive me, Lord Sukuna…” You slightly bow your head. “I-I don’t know what came over me..”

Tsk. “How annoying. If you are going to commit to your disturbed antics then do it, don’t keep apologizing for ‘em if I don’t tell you to stop.” 

You raise your eyes to his chin as he speaks, habitually avoiding direct contact with his eyes as you nod obediently. But something else catches your line of sight making you lift your eyes higher. “...Lord Sukuna.” He hummed in response still looking down at you. “Your face is…flushed,” Sukuna grunted as it was pointed out. You’ve never seen him blush before. “…Did you enjoy that?” Both mouths were tightly shut against the accusation, feeding more into the truth of it. You bring yourself closer to him again, hands braced against the top of his thighs as you are between his legs now and your head tilted back to continue looking up at him. “Has no one done that before?”

“...No..” He answered honestly, his intense gaze looking back down at you. An unusual sense of pride grows in you at that. You had the impression every act you’ve performed for your Master was just a repeat of something he had with concubines before you. You only know what he's taught you to satisfy him. A first for you both emboldened you more. Gentle hands brush over his tatted chest, your gaze lowered the the black design around his shoulders and pecs.

“It tastes like blood. But I-” A hitch in your breath feeling one of his large hands smooth the curve of your ass to your lower back, making you lean further into his chest.. “...I like the way it feels.”

You’re not subtle. Those pleading, yet avoidant eyes saying more than your words. You’re embarrassed to admit your desires as you wait for your Master to understand your plea and make the move. It’s not your place to ask him for anything, you exist to please him.

 “Twisted…” Sukuna started to say in his amusement of your fragile composure. But he’s had you long enough to kill the teasing front. Enticing him for his enjoyment was your job and you’ve gotten good at it. No telling if you even realized your actions beyond your lust. A second nature to do your best and please your Master. You feel his breath on your forehead sending a wave of pleasure through you, and then his hand grasps your chin holding your head in place with just a gentle tilt back.  “—Greedy little thing…” Sukuna practically hissed before claiming your mouth.

Two hands crinkle up the fabric of your dressing and keep it over your hands as he squeezes at the exposed flesh of your rear, his third hand holding your chin in place and the fourth twisting your hair around his fingers as he holds the back of your head. You just fit in his hold like the plaything you are.

There is an underlying guilt to it when you’re worked up like this for him. Taking something from your superior when you should be giving it to him, and your fragile nerves were certain there is some form of punishment awaiting you for being so vulgar for your own pleasure instead of his. You aren’t the first concubine to endure his cruelty and selfishness to please him for their survival, you aren’t guaranteed to be his last, but perhaps you’re the first to enjoy it like this? The first to stimulate his curiosity beyond what comforts your body can provide the both of his cocks, and in exchange be allowed to crave the attention he offers for pleasure?

Perhaps now that was all you were, the attractive shell of a woman you used to be whose heart twisted and corrupted to escape the pain with this lust as a necessity to spare what remains of your sanity. Your guilt, the old broken pieces of you that did not want this but also did not want to die.  

You are just his favorite concubine now. 

Needy hands now hold onto his shoulders and knock off the loosened robe from his torso completely. As his second set of hands lifts you closer to his massive body, muffled whines vibrate in your kiss feeling the large tongue below you stir around your wet folds before moving with a sentience of its own to flick the large tip over your clit. Your entire pussy sits against his second tongue like a sweet treat while his main treats your tongue like a toy to dominate. Sukuna was willing to use the large appendage to open you up, but he refused to give you everything you wanted all at once. There is a limit to his mercy and he quite enjoyed the way you squirmed in his hold for a steady rhythm or friction between your throbbing clit and the wet limb. He felt your hands brace against his shoulders more for some leverage, desperate jerks from your hips bound in place by his stronger grip. Your struggle brings that wicked chuckle out of him, pulling his tongue from your mouth with that intense leer on you again. Your whimpers escalated.

Sukuna takes in your lewd expression with a smirk. “Greedy little concubine. I know I’ve taught you to handle more than this, it’s going to be a waste for you if you cum already.” His hand twisted in your hair grips your head back further, making sure you look into his four piercing eyes. “Your little stunt got you all worked up before I even got to have some fun, huh?” He taunts, his large hands at your hips adjusting to cradle your ass. “Animals know better…Who told you to bite off more than you can chew?”

Your face is hot, practically panting with your jaw slacked and tongue hanging like the wild beasts he likened you to. Attempting to strangle your whines at the tongue’s vigor, you try to speak. “F-Forgive m-”

“Shut up.” The large tongue brushes further inward as he spreads your cheeks open. It was all prep work and you felt like you couldn’t contain yourself. His other two hands find ways to mess you up further, a rough thumb across your nipple as he squeezes your chest and another hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your depraved expression on full display for his amusement. His precious concubine obediently void of words, trembling in anticipation in his hold, your lustful song filling the room. 

Getting you on both of his cocks came with such little resistance, your anxious body sliding down into his lap as he stuffs you full only stills your breath. Your sweet voice strangles in your throat again when you finally exhale. His hand releases your neck, Sukina allowing you to bury your face into his skin from the stretch inside you. The way you held him now was a means to be closer than you were, hands braced against his broad back.

As if to remind you of your place, he still doesn’t give you control of your hips. Your body belongs to him, after all. Instead, Sukuna guided every movement with you, angling you and rocking you, pulling out and filling you around the two lengths until you heard the satisfied grunt once you were flush with his lap. He could praise you for taking them both so effectively after all this time. But he just gives a toothy smirk as he steers you into his double penetration.

The less intimidating of the two nestled in the squeeze of your ass, stimulating all the nerves while the monster of the two knocked around the deepest parts of your pussy taught to embrace him. 

You keened at the pressure while he reveled in your eagerness to move on your own, denying you the freedom to bounce yourself down his cocks. Even without your rewarding tears, you still cry out in a way he enjoys when you cum suddenly. The pace doesn't change, however. You twitch and melt, and your breath is knocked out of you as he repeatedly bangs you into his lap.

“Hah!…L-Lord Sukuna. Please...” You were begging already, cushy insides still squeezing at his cocks and your sensually vacant eyes shamelessly seeking his. A plea for more of this, trembling legs trying to pull yourself even further into him. The Cursed Man chuckles darkly, proud of what he's shaped you into.

“Still greedy, girl?”

It's not like he was done with you yet anyway, but you answer him with an obedient nod. Your hanging mouth finds his on your own, kindling your fulfillment in being a plaything for the King of Curses. Your kiss slows him down for a moment and your body trembles as he sits balls-deep inside you. He lets you keep kissing him, your bliss distracting you from the change in positions until he pulls back and you're looking up at him. Down on your back with your wrists pinned down in one pair of his hands. With his hips still flush with yours keeping his cocks warm, the second pair of hands cups your knees up toward your chest.

And his relentless rutting continues. Leading from the larger while the other is just lucky to be included in the violation of this body that belongs to him.  

[kuroowo]

Gojo x Reader x Geto

- Poly & General HCs, not chronological

- GN!Reader

- WARNING : One mention of dacryphilia, mentions of fighting & therapy

Part 2 (still writing) // Masterlist

Gojo has a habit of stealing bites off yours and Geto’s plates. It doesn’t matter if he already has his own or has yet to even touch it. It doesn’t matter if Suguru drenches his in so much sauce you can’t even see what’s beneath anymore. It doesn’t matter if you try to fight his utensils with yours or stab his hand with your fork. It doesn’t matter if Satoru’s so full he could implode with even a whiff of it. If it’s food that’s yours & Suguru’s, he’s taking a bite out of it. Bet.

You come to find that Gojo can turn on the waterworks really easily, but it’s never genuine tears. Meanwhile Geto doesn’t really cry much and finds it extremely hard to fake cry like his boyfriend does, until you find him nearly bawling over sad family/loved ones/friends/animal centred movies in the dark of his own room. He tries to cover it up when he notices you at his door, but in the end, your boyfriend’s head ends up sniffling in your lap with the movie continuing instead. You, on the other hand, cry quite easily and sometimes most of the times it makes your boyfriends want to tease you. Especially in bed (pretty sure they developed dacryphilia).

Nearly every corner of Satoru’s & Suguru’s rooms are filled with affectionate gifts from you. Be it random little trinkets that reminded you of them, stuffed toys of white cats and black wolves in all different shapes and sizes, hand written love letters and poems, dried flowers of different shades and kinds, scrap paper filled with doodles of the three of you — everything and anything you gift them, they have it. Even the ones from before you got together with them. Shoko calls them whipped. Haibara calls them sweet. Not that it matters when it’s become their safe space.

Gojo teaches you and Suguru to live more carefree, to be more adventurous, and to love more openly. Geto teaches you and Satoru to be more inquisitive, to carry morality in your hearts, and to appreciate love in actions. You teach Satoru and Suguru to live with balance, to respect boundaries without distancing, and to accept love as if it were home embodied in a person.

Gojo & Geto gets into a lot of trouble, small or big, when it comes to being tactful and sensitive to others. If you find Geto alone, he’s much more gentlemanly & exemplary, but placing them together always seem to bring out the mischievous (sometimes dickhead) side in him. Placing you in between them is a 50/50 gamble. Sometimes you make them worse, much like a trio of green tea bitches, but sometimes you halt them as if on a leash, as if a saint with two devils tamed.

Gojo and Geto likes to drag you out a lot. It would be every weekend if it wasn’t for you enticing them with a movie marathon and junk food in pyjamas, cozied up together, cuddling and giggling. A type of weekend they learn to crave when you’re out without them.

Gojo moves around quite a bit in his sleep, Geto’s a bit like an immovable object in his sleep, you’re a little in between but you bring a thousand stuffed toys and a bolster so the shared bed is kind of a mess.

Geto’s not a picky eater, you’re a picky eater, and Gojo prefers sweets (if he could live only on sweets, he would). Whenever you three go out to eat, it’s almost always a bit of a bicker between you and Gojo because he wants to eat sweets first and you think that he’s going to get diabetes before he hits 30, or he wants to eat at XYZ but you hate the way they make ABC. Geto would not give two fucks and just drives to where he wants to eat, sits everyone down, orders his food first. Then you and Satoru would team up to admonish Suguru’s table manners because, “How could you?!” & “The betrayal!”. Suguru is sick of you two (affectionate).

Often times, Gojo would just eat out because it’s just lesser of a hassle for his schedule (OT’s quite a lot) and because Geto is in the same line of business, he ends up doing the same most of the time too. They would feel guilty for coming home late and having you eat by yourself if it weren’t for the fact that you crave alone time after spending a whole day working to recharge, so they just leave you be and you’re appreciative of that. But ever since they found out you tend to cook meals for yourself rather than order take out, they’ve unanimously decided to come home to your dinners at least once a week. You’re half annoyed and half worried because A, you’ll have to cook x5 the portion (their appetite’s huge) and B, your taste might not suit them (Suguru’s not picky but that doesn’t mean you want him to eat something that isn’t that good to him just because it’s edible). Your boyfriends quelled your worries (most of it) when they said they’ll help cook and set up with you, and for the most part they do quite well with you in the kitchen. So in the end, while you do need your recharge, you find that once a week(day) doing this extremely domestic thing with them makes you fall even harder. Who would’ve known? (They did.)

You made it a habit to kiss them when they get back from work and on rougher days, you’ll take care of them the best way you can. Drawing them a warm baths, ordering in their favourites, and lots of reassurance through words (for Geto) & touches (for Gojo). Nowadays, if Gojo doesn’t receive a welcome home kiss he’ll sulk (extremely so) until he does. Geto’s the same where he expects a kiss, and when that doesn’t happen, he’ll make you kiss him one way or another.

When you’re having a bad day, Gojo tends to be the one to notice by observation and Geto tends to notice by instinct. They try to be gentler, sweeter, softer, and even more so when it’s particularly rough for you. Geto would take care of you by setting up a comfortable space for you, cooking you your comfort meals, and making sure you’re drinking enough water. Gojo would be stuck by your side like super glue on skin. He’d crowd your space, cocoon you in a soft blanket, and surround you with his arms, legs, and warmth. Both Satoru and Suguru would talk to you or stay in silence until you’re okay again, and it would feel like they could finally breathe a sigh of relief. (Please expect lots of kisses after since they learned that’d be the fastest way to get you smiling again)

Having fights with them was the worst, especially since it rarely happens. The fact that all three of you know each others weaknesses, breaking points, and sensitive topics makes it all the worse because when it gets too heated, all hell breaks loose. You would always be the first to cry, Geto would always be the first to walk away, and Gojo would be the first to pretend everything was fine. The first time it had happened, you barricaded yourself in your room for one and a half day before they came banging at your door to reconcile properly (the boys made up separately by literally having a fight). The last time it happened, you considered having a break from the relationship and each other. Just one short enough for everyone to get away and have some time to cool and collect themselves, “I think it’ll be good for us.”, but a resonate rejection came immediately from the other two. They knew that if they agreed, you’d never come back to them because while yes, Suguru’s the first to walk away, but he always comes back just as quick. You, however, once you walk away, you would walk away for good in the end (it was just a matter of when). So the fact that you would suggest such a thing was more than alarming to them, so much so that a chill of fear trickled down their spine.

Couples therapy was suggested as an outcome of the last fight. While none of you wanted to have a third (fourth?) party knowing the more intimate parts (or any parts) of your relationship, it was the most logical and effective method seeing as you and Geto are already have your own therapists. Gojo was the most reluctant (“We can just fix it ourselves.”), but if it meant that you wouldn’t leave him, then so be it. The sessions were chaotic and didn’t progress too much at first, but with time and tremendous efforts from everyone, it helped with improving the way you three communicated and loved each other.

You fell first, but Geto fell harder, and Gojo fell hardest.

[strwbmei]

I'm sending this anonymously but i am one of your mutuals (guess who >:3) and I wanted to request a Vertin X shy!S/O fluff cause i'm completely in love with her (hint: i like a certain pink haired girl and i love Italians)

pairing(s): vertin x gn!reader

a/n: Hello!! Truth be told, I could tell just from the ">:3" emoji alone haha, it's always such a joy to talk with you (:

I'll get to all of the thirsts in my inbox I swear, I've just been really in the mood to write fluff lately

Vertin with a Shy!Reader

: ̗̀➛ Vertin isn't really shy, just more of an introvert who has a hard time expressing what she feels. Because of her past experiences and the people she has lost, she never really saw the point in building a relationship with someone whether it be platonic or romantic.

: ̗̀➛ That said— one thing that the Timekeeper has always been is curious. Your naturally shy and closed-off character piqued her interest even more so than the others, and she wanted to know everything about you.

: ̗̀➛ It's in her nature to be inquisitive and prying about everything; you, in particular, are no exception. Although it's true that her that this has gotten her into trouble more than a few times, she can't really bring herself to care if you're involved.

: ̗̀➛ After a while, her curiosity wasn't only for you and everything about you, but also for herself. Poor girl is usually so rational and calculated, but once she's in your presence all of that is completely gone. She believed herself to be a person who's very self-aware, yet you have her questioning everything as she knows it.

: ̗̀➛ Why does the world, usually so dreadful and miserable, feel so much more colorful when you're around? Why can't she take her eyes off of you? Why is it that whenever there is danger, her first concern is if you're alright? What is this... thumping in her heart that just can't seem to stop whenever you so much as look at her?

: ̗̀➛ It's love. Vertin was well aware of that fact, and it scared her. Scared that you might not feel the same way. Scared that the two of you will go back to being strangers once you find out. Most of all, terrified that you'd be put into danger because of her actions.

: ̗̀➛ You may have been shy, but you're not oblivious. You're aware of how she treats you differently from the others and you can feel how she gazes at you with unbridled love from across the room. You also know that Vertin would never tell you how she truly feels because of her fears.

: ̗̀➛ Sure, confessing your love to her despite all of that might have been a selfish move, but do you regret it? Not at all. You're prepared for the worst— as long as you're facing it with her. The process of the confession, though? The two of you were bumbling idiots who couldn't properly articulate their feelings even though you both have thought of this exact scenario a million times before.

: ̗̀➛ Still, it was worth every second. Vertin might not show it, but she's completely over the moon. Suddenly, the world isn't such a negative place— suddenly, she has hope. It's just a spark, but it's enough to keep her going.

: ̗̀➛ She's very patient with you. She knows that all of this about relationships and feelings is entirely foreign to you, and while that may also be true for her, she makes sure to put in the effort to be extra understanding since she knows of how timid you are and all she wants is for you to be happy and safe.

: ̗̀➛ Of course, she also tries to improve her ability to communicate. You're the only one who she feels like she can be vulnerable with and finally let the walls she's built around herself down. It's the first time she's felt so... secure and loved in someone's presence, and she wants to make sure she's the best version of herself for you.

: ̗̀➛ Until she's done with that though, expect random shows of affection throughout the day. Mostly her just remembering she hasn't kissed you or shown you love in the past 30 minutes and spontaneously deciding she needs to give you a peck on the cheek.

: ̗̀➛ Her sudden touches surprises you sometimes, but it's cute! You're just happy to see Vertin getting more comfortable because both of you were very hesitant to even hold hands at the start of your relationship.

[dawneternal]

Just a Favor

✦ A Gwynriel first kiss one-shot (turned into multiple parts after requests for more)

✦ Inspired by a true story 🫣 when I started dating my wife in high school I had never been kissed before and she kept very politely asking if she could kiss me and I kept getting too nervous and saying no. That went on for like two months and then I finally told her to kiss me without asking or I'd keep saying no lol and she did. The end

✦ Word Count: 1.7k

✦ AO3 Link / Masterlist

"I have a favor to ask you," Gwyn's voice pulled Azriel from his thoughts.

She sat across from him at the kitchen table, half-eaten plates of lunch in front of them. The Valkyries had stayed for lunch after training, Gwyn lingering after Cassian had left to fly Emerie home. Nesta had excused herself to find a book for Gwyn, leaving the pair alone.

Azriel had not thought anything of this sequence of events, but now that he was looking at the Gwyn, head tilted to the side with an inquisitive gleam in her eye, he was finding it all suspicious.

"It's kind of an unconventional thing, so prepare yourself." Gwyn continued. He took note of her fingers fiddling with a buckle on her leathers.

"Okay," Azriel said slowly, resisting the urge to furrow his brows. Or maybe run away.

"Are you prepared?"

"Yes, I won't react."

"I want to be kissed."

True to his word, Azriel's face remained unchanged. Though his stomach had done a flip and his heartbeat thundered.

"Okay, you can react a little," Gwyn cried, indignant and incredulous.

"Are you asking me to kiss you?" Azriel surprised himself with his own calm tone.

"Either that, or help me find someone. Because I trust you to help me find someone who isn't an asshole." She had shrunk into herself a little, like her confidence had waned. Her gaze drifted down to her plate.

"Why me, though?" The corners of his mouth quirked up just a touch.

"Nesta hates everyone, Emerie only knows Illyrians and they hate Valkyries, Cassian is Cassian, and I'm not asking my High Lord or Lady to find someone to kiss me."

They were all fair arguments. He didn't bother asking why she wanted to be kissed so desperately. All of her actions pointed toward wanting to move on. He'd overheard the Valkyries several times encouraging Gwyn toward what they called 'the last step' - moving out of the library.

"I'll do it," Az said, cursing his voice for cracking. How could she unnerve him so?

She was just a woman. Except that a singular word could not fully capture what Gwyn was. Priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian, she was something incredible. The most brightly colored thing in his life. Copper hair, turquoise eyes, white ribbons, auburn freckles.

Gwyn cheered and gave him a triumphant, toothy grin. He could not help smiling in return.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, unsure how to proceed.

"I just want you to kiss me like you would anyone you really liked," Gwyn was blushing, now. Eyes a little wild, like she hadn't expected to get this far.

"That doesn't really tell me what you want," Azriel protested.

He picked at a leftover sliver of sandwich to give his hands something to do. His shadows buzzed with energy, darting to far corners of the room and reporting back about the dust that lived there.

"Well...what was your first kiss like?" Gwyn asked. She smiled at one shadow that approached her outstretched hand like a shy kitten.

"Probably not what you'd want," Azriel flashed a sheepish grin, still embarrassed by the centuries-old memory, "It was pretty bad. This will be your first kiss?"

"Yes," Gwyn kept her gaze on the tendril of shadow weaving through her fingers. "I think maybe I don't want you to ask me first,"

"I always ask before I kiss someone, no matter how I feel about them."

"Well, the problem is that if you ask, I might chicken out and say no," She sighed, "So I may need you to just do it."

"Ah," Azriel grinned, "I see. You want me to make it a moment."

Before she could answer, he stood and crossed to her in a few strides, turning her chair to face him and bracing one hand on the back of it. Gwyn looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted. He leaned in close, nose a few inches from hers. Somehow, her nervousness had cancelled his out and returned his confidence. At the very least, he knew he was capable of making her first kiss better than his had been.

"I have no qualms with a surprise, if that's what you want." He said, deep voice rumbling in his chest.

"Yes," Gwyn whispered, heart hammering in anticipation.

This close, she could count every freckle scattered over his bronze skin. There was a beauty mark she had never seen before right on the edge of his full bottom lip, and glimmers of gold in his amber eyes. She hoped desperately that he could not hear the catch of her breath.

Azriel stayed still for a moment, gaze fixed on hers, letting her wonder if this was the moment. A part of her hoped that it wasn't, just so she could feel this again, have another chance to memorize his features. To breathe his piney scent, feel his shadows caress her skin.

Perhaps she should have just asked him to help her find a stranger.

Azriel straightened, flashed an insufferable smirk, and walked out of the room. Gwyn heard his footsteps echo down the hall, leaving her alone in the silent kitchen. She felt as though a summer storm had just rolled through her world, dark and alluring and thrilling all at once.

Nesta, with her brilliant intuition, returned a moment later, squealing when she took in Gwyn's red cheeks.

A few nights later, after a family dinner at the River House, a little group set out to the far corner of the estate. There, a little branch of the Sidra curved through the meadow before pouring back into the sea. A small stone bridge crossed over it, leading to an ivy covered gazebo. Azriel, Cassian, Nesta, and Mor all set out to get a moment of fresh air and a glimpse of the moonlight dancing on the water.

Gwyn followed, giggling with the group at Mor's tipsy stumbling and Cassian's booming voice declaring that he could definitely skip a rock father than the rest of them. This, of course, illicited a challenge and they all began a search for perfect rocks. Gwyn was particularly skilled at skipping stones and giddy at the idea of surprising the group with her talent and wiping the smirk from Cassian's face.

But just as she stepped over the little stone bridge, a hand grasped her arm and whirled her around. She found herself in Azriel's arms, among the swaying grass and delicate flowers. They stood halfway down the bank of the stream, Azriel's boots braced against the slope, holding them upright. The mossy stone bridge hid them from sight, only the tops of their heads visible if the rest of the group bothered to look.

It took Gwyn a moment to register what had happened, to calm her heart and adjust to the feeling of the shadowsinger's arms wrapped around her waist. He smiled down at her, moonlight gleaming in his hazel eyes. This was the moment.

Azriel softly placed his hands on her face and pulled her in a little closer. He was silent, giving her long moments to stop him if she wished. But she tucked herself into him, hands resting on his chest, fingertips just brushing the skin above his collar. She blushed deep red, looking up at him through lowered lashes, though the glimmer in her eye was eager.

Azriel could not help but notice how perfectly she fit in his hold, like her face and his hands had once been a single block of marble, the curve between them cut with a single motion. Something about it so familiar, so deeply rooted it felt almost ancient. Sacred.

And Gwyn could not help the feeling that bloomed in her chest when he brought his lips to hers. Soft, sweet, reverant. His touch was warm, every place where they connected sent sparks through her body.

She knew, deep down, was no fleeting feeling. This was the feeling of something beginning. Perhaps this was a spectacularly stupid idea, after all, as she was certain that no other kiss would ever feel this way.

Azriel pulled away, thumb brushing over her cheek. The moment he met her eyes, he felt it. It was nothing like he thought it would be. Neither pain nor pleasure, something so unique there was only one thing that it could be. Gwyn glowed before him, her aura golden. So bright, the star his whole being now orbited.

He knew he looked like a fool. Gasping, chest heaving like her kiss had hurt him. And the concern on her face stung, because it meant she had not felt it, too.

"Azriel?" She whispered, her rose-tinted stupor fading. Azriel let go of her, hands dropping stiffly to his sides. His skin burned, already craving more of her touch.

"How do you feel?" He croaked, though he knew the answer. She did not feel as he did, no matter how much she had liked it.

"Are you okay?" She asked, instead of answering. Her hands still rested against his chest, and now her fingers curled around his shirt collar, holding tight. He looked like he was beginning to panic.

Azriel shook his head, wings spreading out with a snap. It was too much. The sorrow, the longing, the roaring joy. Subtle hints of her own emotions drifting down the newly forged bond.

Mind swirling, he placed a hand on his chest and stepped back. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just staring at the dazzling girl before him, who had been so shy about being kissed. Surely she would not be happy about such an intense bond, not be ready. And she had asked him for a kiss because she cared so little for him. She had hoped for a kiss that would not matter. No, she would not want this.

He could only think of one word and it was likely the only thing he should not say. Instead of saying anything, he shot upwards into the sky, disappearing as a dark smudge in the night. A single streak of blue in the darkness.

Gwyn was left alone, hands hovering where he had been. Confused, concerned, and entirely unaware of the bond singing in Azriel's chest.

[iamsherlocked-1998]

NUTS AND ENGINES

SUMMARY: A visit to the mechanic and a new beginning.

WORDS: 1200

WARNING: Nope, only that the reader is a Mandalorian here and not Din, so when I say "Mando" it´s about her.

In the bustling spaceport of Mos Eisley, Din Djarin worked diligently in his small mechanic's shop, surrounded by the hum of engines and the clatter of tools. He was aware of the fame he had built up over the past few years, known for his ability to repair all manner of spacecraft, Din considered himself a quiet and solitary figure, but affable and cheerful, content with the mild isolation of his work.

One day, a mysterious figure dressed in Mandalorian armor entered his shop, seeking repairs for her ship. He couldn't help but shudder a little, his scant knowledge of them based on perceptions from childhood when he was rescued from the ashes of what used to be his forgotten home before being sent to this piece of land to live with a relative he barely knew.

The first day she just hung around the workshop and briefly introduced herself as Mando, but an old friend from an adjacent cantina managed to find out that the enigmatic woman turned out to be a renowned and legendary bounty hunter with a reputation that preceded her. Intrigued by the enigmatic Mandalorian before him, the next day Din offered to work on the ship, eager to test his mechanical prowess.

"It could use a tune-up and my usual mechanics are taking a break, how many credits would that be?"

Djarin offered a sardonic smile.

"Well, that's something you can't know until you check it out in depth, sweetheart, but I promise I'll give you a good price" (That was accompanied by a slight wink in a crude attempt to get attention).

The Mandalorian just nodded softly and left without another word, leaving the man blushing intensely. That wasn't even close to what he regretted the most. As Din delved into the intricate repairs of the ancient ship, which could well be described as a relic, he reflected on the other, much more interesting things he could be doing, but he was still a man of his word and he wasn't going to give up. Despite the two brief interactions, he couldn't help but feel drawn to the stoic yet captivating presence of the Mandalorian warrior. Their conversations were meaningful, with an unspoken understanding floating in the air between them, especially when the woman simply rolled up her sleeves and began to help him.

"Where did you learn?" (The question surprised the dark-haired man, but he wasn't going to waste the opportunity).

"Well, when I was young I spent a lot of time alone because my uncle wasn't a man of many words and even less with alcohol, so one day I went to the city and signed up as an apprentice, that's how I earned a living and killed time".

The woman turned her visor to the ground thoughtfully.

"Is that where you got the necklace from?"

He was about to ask when she looked where the jacket was leaning, it was a kind of tool box where he kept an amulet from the worst day of his life. A mythosaur.

"No... I don't like to talk about it but your people helped me in a time of need and I preferred to keep it".

"I could say the same".

The man reached for a dirty rag to remove the oil dirt from his hands. A sigh of understanding left his lips.

"Is it true what they say, you always wear that helmet?" (He pointed to his own face inquisitively).

"This is the way".

The days passed in apparent tranquility, the young woman had become a little more vocal and was proud of having gotten a kind of laugh out of her once. However, before Din could finish his work, chaos erupted in the spaceport as a group of bounty hunters descended upon the girl, seeking to claim the bounty on her head. Instinctively, Din sprang into action, using the few skills his uncle, a man better with his fists than with words, had instilled in him, upbringing to support Mando and fend off attackers.

He and his peculiar client barricaded themselves behind a set of scrap metal. The woman had a sharp aim that made him think with pity of their targets if they weren't in this situation.

In the heat of battle, Din entered the ship for added safety while his partner dealt with several stray undesirables mercilessly. He inadvertently discovered a secret Mando had been hiding: a small, green creature emerged from a cubbyhole of sorts, looking frightened and immediately turning its face away when the mechanic approached.

"Hey... little one, it's okay" (the man extended a finger for the boy to hold, which helped, as he was able to pick up the baby and find a better place to hide).

So that was the reason the woman was so scrupulous about emptying the warehouse before starting work and always left for a while, maybe she knew someone nearby who helped her with the child.

Once she understood that the man was inside, the child's guardian (mother?) entered the ship abruptly and prepared to take off. Apparently the rescued pupil was named Grogu, he had a connection to the Force like nothing Din had ever seen before, although the Mandalorian never heard of it. This revelation struck a chord within Din, awakening emotions and memories long buried in him, when he lost his parents as a tender infant.

A few hours later Grogu entertained himself by floating Din's necklace through the air, the only thing he could rescue when the attackers were too many and left without further delay.

"He is amazing" (Djarin meant it, he understood that any self-respecting person would want to keep him safe).

"He is" (The woman used a surprisingly soft tone) "You can't go back to that place, now they will look for you too".

With no choice but to leave the safety of Mos Eisley behind, Din made the fateful decision to accompany Mando and Grogu on their journey, his heart torn between the prudence of duty and the new connection he felt towards them.

“I suppose there is no other remedy, at least for now. Would a mechanic suit you?”

The hunter said nothing but the playful clicking of fingers on the control panel expressed all he needed to know.

Weeks turned into months. As they traversed the galaxy together, facing danger and adventure at every turn, Din and Mando found themselves growing closer, their bond forged through trials and challenges that tested their resolve. In the quiet moments beneath the starry sky, Din found solace in the reserved woman’s unwavering strength and determination, while she discovered a depth of compassion and loyalty in Din’s open character that touched her heart. Casual touches turned to frantic kisses in the darkness of the ship’s belly.

Amidst the chaos of their unpredictable lives, love blossomed between the stoic Mandalorian bounty hunter and the intrepid mechanic, tying their destinies together in a story written in the stars. And as they sailed across the vast expanse of the galaxy side by side, Djarin and Mando knew that in each other they had found something worth fighting for: a love that transcended the boundaries of space and time, binding them together in a bond that was as unbreakable as beskar steel.

NOTE: This was really funny to write, maybe I'll write about this universe again, the fic is an idea of @toomanystoriessolittletime for the 8k celebration, hope you like it 🤗💕

[jackactuallywrites]

Drunk and Disorderly

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x you

Rating: Mild violence, you break your nose and it gets bloody. Also Matt is a dick!

Warnings: Blood, broken nose, male chauvinism, mc gets pinned down and can’t move

Summary: It’s training day! And you’ll never guess who’s there to supervise.

Notes: We love making Ghost a simp

Word Count: 1,695

ao3 link

“What kind of freak actually likes training?”

Elle was never one to keep her opinions to herself, outwardly questioning your excitement, and you rolled your eyes at her, “Someone who’s interested in becoming an officer someday.” She bumped you with her hip as you walked to the open grass field where training was taking place, “Or someone who wants to get a little government-sanctioned one-on-one action with this country’s best and brightest.” Naturally, being a romantically conniving woman, Elle had taken your newfound friendship with Ghost to new dastardly levels, always quietly scheming in the background, coming up with all sorts of scenarios that would put you in close contact with him. Of course, you’d considered that very situation; physical training was always a good excuse to get up close and personal, but being in different military branches, it was entirely unlikely that Ghost would be part of the army’s training.

Unlikely, but apparently not impossible.

Ghost was standing at the head of the group of soldiers that were now splitting into smaller units, his eyes cast in shadow by his mask, a white bone skull secured into place over his typical black balaclava, though his thick jumper had been replaced with a plain long-sleeved tee. He looked more intimidating than usual, even in the bright sunshine, a great behemoth towering over the regular-sized folk. Elle paid him little attention, already dashing off to fit herself in a small unit, no doubt fancying someone in it, leaving you alone, though not without giving you an exaggerated wink, nodding her head towards Ghost and making a vulgar gesture with her fingers before abandoning you entirely.

Of course, you’d joined the military to gain confidence, so you had little problem standing alone, slipping your way through the milling soldiers to the front, where you came face to face with the man himself. If he took notice of you, there was no indication of it, his eyes slipping straight over you to look elsewhere. Ghost wasn’t looking at you, but the man to his side was. Soap. The memory of you mistaking him for Ghost’s paramour still rankled in the back of your mind, but you tried to keep the visceral cringe off your face, staring straight back at the slightly shorter man, wondering why he was looking at you so inquisitively. He pointed at you, then at a small group of soldiers to your left, a silent command, and you obeyed without question, even if you were still silently curious of his intentions.

With the groups sorted, Ghost spoke up, his voice a far cry from the softness of that night, entirely back to his usual brusque tone. As he spoke of technique and stance, you noticed the way he kept his arms folded over his chest, his biceps flexing, and you wondered whether he was doing it purposefully. His orders were brief, and he allowed everyone to begin their sparring, resting his hands behind his back as he prowled between groups, occasionally correcting posture and grip. You would have liked to have continued watching him, yet it was your turn to step into the ring, so to speak, facing your opponent, a man whom you were sure you’d seen Elle getting off with at some point or another.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you were flat on your back; the wind knocked out of you, your opponent pinning you down, twisting your arm until you tapped out. Perhaps if you hadn’t been so distracted by the loud sound of Elle’s fake giggle, you would have been able to hold your own for longer than a few seconds, but as luck had it, you’d bit the dirt in record time. Your opponent, who you’d finally recalled as ‘Matt with the tongue’, took an irritating amount of pleasure in your easy defeat, releasing your arm but remaining sitting on your back. “How did they allow a bird like you into the forces? You’d be absolutely wrecked in the frontlines.” You huffed, wriggling slightly underneath him, “They need some intelligence behind the lines to direct daft cunts like you in the right direction.” “Intelligence didn’t stop you from getting battered, though, did it?” He shifted on top of you, crushing your lungs underneath his weight, and you tapped out again, “Fuck off!” “Not until you say please.” Yet again, stubbornness might be the death of you, but you would not give in. Not to a man like that.

“Break it up. Now.”

Perhaps Ghost was some sort of divine creature sent only to visit you in your most humiliating moments. He was here now, watching you struggle to breathe under the other soldier, your hair sticking out like pins from a pincushion, your face redder than a tomato. At least Matt finally got off you, allowing you space to breathe, and you glared daggers at him, rubbing your ribs as you remained on the floor. From your position on the ground, Ghost looked even more gigantesque than usual; his eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, a look of quiet irritation on his face, his arms folded over his chest. You sat up, smoothing down your hair and adjusting your beret so it sat properly once again, though there was little you could do for your dignity.

“Your form was sloppy.” You went to protest, but Ghost silenced you with a single gloved finger, pointing his hand at Matt accusingly, “If she were armed, you’d have a knife in your ribs if you were lucky. You only got away with it this time because your opponent was smaller. Allow me to demonstrate.” With one hand, Ghost reached out and wrapped his fingers around Matt’s arm, tossing him to the ground in a single fluid motion. He wasted no time in putting his knee in the small of the man’s back, pushing him against the muddy grass and twisting his arm behind his back. Matt gasped and tapped out almost immediately, but Ghost remained still, looking over at the small group around him, “With this leg positioning,” he used his leg to lock Matt’s in place, “and the firm grip on the arm, your opponent will be totally immobilised.” The last twist he gave Matt’s arm was entirely unnecessary, but you weren’t about to protest. “Try to get up.” It was impossible not to enjoy the sight of Matt struggling, with Ghost using seemingly no effort to keep him firmly in place. It was barely even a second until Matt huffed, “I can’t.” Ghost stood up, allowing Matt to regain at least a little of his shattered ego, and he turned to the rest of your group, “I expect better from the rest of you. Each of you will demonstrate the correct position on him.”

There was no denying that it was fun to watch all the other soldiers grapple with Matt, pushing his face into the mud each time, but when it finally came to your turn, you baulked. Every other soldier had been fairly beefy, and though you weren’t a dainty little creature by any means, Matt was still far more powerful than you, and you could tell by the glint in his eye that he was holding you accountable for all the humiliation he’d been through today. You knew what was coming for you before it even happened, Matt shifting at the last second before you’d even got into position, slamming you down into the ground. Pain shot through your nose instantaneously, accompanied by a sickening crunch and the disgusting feeling of blood dripping down your skin.

What happened next was something of a blur; you heard Matt get knocked off of you and the shouts of the soldiers watching, as well as what felt like all the weight of a freight train go sailing overhead. The other soldiers were at your side, sitting you upright and tilting your head forward so the blood wouldn’t drain down your throat, one of them offering you a tissue from his pocket so you could stem the flow. The bellow from beside you was ear-deafening, the words clear even in the rage, “Get him out of here, Soap, now.“ You were more concerned with stemming the blood from your nose, as well as the kind words from the soldier attending you, letting him reset your broken nose. Elle was by your side; you could hear the seldom-heard fury in her voice, mouthing off to Ghost himself as she demanded nothing less than Matt’s head.

As expected, Ghost refused, citing that there would be proper disciplinary proceedings and not a gung-ho beatdown by a superior officer.

The dramatics were over almost as soon as they’d begun; Matt marched off by Soap’s side as Elle watched reproachfully, sitting by your side, having taken over the other soldier's job of fussing over your face. Ghost watched Matt walk away and then rounded on you. You expected a lecture about being more careful, but instead, he reached out for your face, his fingers gently holding onto your chin as he turned it this way and that. You could see his brows furrowing under the black paint, and his thumb brushed over your cheek in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it gesture. He leant back on his heels, looking at Elle, “Get her to the medics.” Elle needed no convincing, wrapping her arm around your waist and lifting you as though you’d been seriously injured. You shrugged her off, “Babe. It’s a broken nose. Not a chest wound.” Elle huffed, but she begrudgingly let go of your waist, replacing it with your hand as she led you towards the main base. When you’d finally gotten out of earshot of the rest of them, she gently squeezed your hand, “So are we going to talk about Ghost going all caveman on Matt?” “Matt was out of line, and he deserved it.” “Are you hearing me argue against that? I’m just saying you were totally the damsel in distress.” “Can we have this conversation after they dope me up?” Elle hesitated but gave in, “Fine. But we’re not letting this go. Man has a thing for you.”

[b1rds3ye]

Of Dreams and Legends

In the middle of the night you have a heart to heart with the legendary Gromsko. You learn what inspires him to keep fighting, and somehow, that includes you.

Pairing: Sobiesław “Gromsko” Kościuszko x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Confessions, Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning: My interpretation of Gromsko’s character, Reader doesn’t know Polish

A/N: Something about Gromsko’s voicelines and bio just makes him seem like an old heroic story in the making to me, so I wrote about it a lil 😌

The air held a chill tonight, lightly nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and face. Zipping up your jumper you laid with your back against the cold surface to look up to the skies. It probably would be for the best that you head back inside, but it wasn’t every night the sky would be this clear. To admire the sublime in the stars as they twinkled down at you. These days they are known as nothing more than gargantuan balls of gas, the unwanted remains of the universe, but how could one not romanticise the sight above you? Up in the expansive skies, every battle paled in comparison. These mundane balls of gas have been unchanging for millenia, the skies you are looking up now, how many others are admiring it? Not just tonight but in the years of yore. Battle armour, weaponry, nation borders and all would have changed, yet when all was done and dusted, you would all be looking up at the same skies.

A bang and a foreign curse had you jolting out of your reverie. Gaze upside down, you shot a glare at who was intruding, only to relax at the welcome sight of a familiar face.

“Sobiesław?”

“Serduszko, you do not make it easy to find you,” he grunted, grabbing his leg to manually get it over the railing.

“I just wanted to admire the night skies.”

“On the roof of our base?”

You shrugged. Sobiesław walked towards you, each footstep heavy against the roof panels, sending reverberations that vibrated rhythmically against your back with a pleasant hum.

He stood beside you, feet by your knees as he followed your gaze to the skies. Hands as fists on his waist, he made a startled noise before turning to you again.

“Did you not wish to be found? I will return to the others, alone time can be good for a soldier.”

“No, no. You’re always welcome,” you grinned.

Sobiesław’s face always held a slight scowl, it was intimidating until you realised it was unintentional. He says it was because he has spent years surrounded by skurwysyny (a word he has refused to translate for you but given how freely he says it to the enemy, you got the gist of it). Still, despite his natural frown, it softens at your words.

“It is hard to see but there is a star formation, named after a Polish king.”

You offer an inquisitive tilt of the head at his comment, wordlessly inviting him as you shift to the side to make space for him. He situated himself down beside you with a grunt of effort and you were lost for words as he adjusted to get himself comfortable against the rough texture of the roof. Sobiesław wasn’t the tallest nor the most imposing of soldiers in your company, but he managed to become a member of SpecGru for a reason. His frame was broad and sturdy, the breathing image of the quintessential soldier, postered on walls as propaganda to rouse even the most reluctant to action. His form emanated a comforting and welcome heat that soothed the bite of the night air. All of a sudden you felt rather sleepy.

Sobiesław raised an arm, pointing at the night sky. Even under his clothes you could see the curves of his muscles stretch out the wrinkles of his sleeve. The boulder that was his shoulder leading to the chain of muscle that was his bicep, linking to his forearm that was slightly flexed with the angle of his hand. Even his finger, relaxedly pointed to a dark patch in the sky, seemed determined.

“It is hard to see, but it should be there.”

Sobiesław pulls himself closer to you so that you can follow his directed hand better, a move that made you far too conscious that you were with him, alone and isolated from the rest of the company. And with the slight quirk of his lip, you were sure he was aware too.

“Scutum Sobiescianum, Shield of Sobieski. A Polish king who defended Vienna from the Turks. This was centuries ago, but I still feel great pride when I hear such an achievement.”

You stay quiet as you squint, trying to look into the supposed darkness to find this supposed constellation of defence. After some investigating you let out a sigh of defeat. You dropped your head onto the roof, creating a light thud. Sobiesław let out a hearty chuckle, turning his body so he can reach over with his far arm, offering you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. You responded with a pout, his sheer strength meant that your body shook slightly with each pat.

“Do not worry, you do not have to see it, just know it is there,” Sobiesław reassured, giving your shoulder an extra squeeze before retreating his arm. “Aiding as a shield for allies is honourable, even if he was only abiding by a treaty.”

“You’ve always liked your history, haven’t you?”

“Greatly. Learning about the victories of the past is motivating.”

You’re not surprised. Sobiesław was not an old man and he didn’t carry himself as such, but he conducted himself in a way you have not seen in anyone else, especially on the battlefield. In combat, a soldier is selfish out of the primal need for survival. One follows orders because that’s the best chance they have of keeping their head attached to their shoulders. To deny themselves the responsibility of atrocities committed, even complacency and teamwork is just a desperate act of self-preservation, one that everyone is guilty of and can not condemn.

But Sobiesław was different. He never seemed to fight for himself. On missions, even under the glare of his signature glasses, he was always looking past the objective, over the horizon and to something greater. No matter how long he spent on foreign soil, he left the stamp of his motherland under his boots as he marched onward. Whenever you fell in battle, body unrecognisable in a coating of blood that you’re not sure is yours or the enemy’s, he is there to pick you up. Not only literally but spiritually as he rouses you to keep fighting with words of encouragement that strike the cords of your heart. Words that you swore were taken from an ancient scripture with how they unleash reservoirs of energy lost deep in your soul. His words were loud and panicked, but not once is it out of concern for his own well-being, or how the mission or his military career could be jeopardised if anything else goes wrong. In those moments, he was fighting and breathing for you.

“Did it motivate you to enlist?”

“Yes. It motivated me before I realised.”

You frowned at his odd answer.

“How so?”

“I had a dream,” he stated, nostalgia warming his voice. He pulled his head in, craning his neck at an odd angle to speak to you quietly, like he was giving you the secrets of the universe. With a wave of the hand he ushers you in and you entertain him.

“When I was little, I always dreamt of a hussar before I even knew what they were. I think it was fate, a sign from above for me to enlist.”

You stare at him in disbelief.

“There was actually a painting of a hussar in the living room of my babcia… I don’t tell anyone that last bit, it is more fun that way.”

You failed miserably at stifling a laugh, in return he smiles as he pulls away. Even with the extra tidbit of information, his motivations still felt almost fable-like, like a myth in the making.

“I can see it,” you giggled, lifting your arms up in the air as you gestured animatedly. “The old wives will be talking about the legendary Gromsko. The quintessential soldier, called to action by the restless spirit of an old warrior in his dreams. He becomes the inspiration for all the future generations. The story of the chosen one who saves the world!”

“I tell you too much,” Sobiesław groans.

“They should make a movie out of you.”

“I am too boring.”

“You’re too humble.”

Sobiesław laughed, but you did not. Leaving the sight of the stars - you had still been half-heartedly trying to distinguish the shield of a king from the darkness - you fully turned to him. You ignored the dull throb of your arm now squished between your body weight and the roof, far too distracted by how close you were to him now that the two of you were facing each other.

“Truly. Even without the dreams I think you’re an inspiration.”

You didn’t realise how sentimental you sounded until you released your words into the air. You consequently chewed at your lips, forcefully sealing them. Your voice didn’t have to fight against the midnight breeze, instead your words settled comfortably in the small space between the two of you, warm and festering in the silence.

Sobiesław was unresponsive, eyebrows far more furrowed than usual. Feigning your embarrassment as getting comfortable against the ceiling, you dipped your head down to avoid seeing his reaction.

“Do you still have that dream?” You asked hurriedly.

“... No.”

It wasn’t everyday you heard Sobiesław hesitate. He had a gruff voice that was quick to speak his mind. It was so honest that his thoughts were often unfiltered in Polish and accompanied with colourful curses to add some extra honesty. There was even the odd, throaty, unintelligible sound as his mouth worked quicker than his mind. But here he was, strategising his next words to you.

“I stopped having that dream when I joined SpecGru.”

You blinked, almost fully flinching away from him in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Ah…”

You couldn’t help but shrink into yourself, drawing your knees close to your vitals. While you did not regret joining SpecGru, you knew for a fact it was not for the faint of heart. What made waking up at base easier was the people there, with a certain Polish man heartily hollering good morning to you on the daily at 6am sharp with a voice that consequently woke up the rest of the barracks. The fact he never failed to give you a pat on the back, still having the energy to look optimistically to the next day even with the losses of a mission gone south. Even on quiet nights like these, while few and far between, you would be able to catch a glimpse of the man under the near brutish exterior. Behind the mythos and acts of altruism was a human with their own selfish needs and doubts. A sensitive man who related to you and brought you comfort when the darkness of battle bled over to your consciousness.

You had only hoped you could have done the same for him.

“I take it SpecGru didn’t meet expectations?”

You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice.

“Huh? No, it exceeded them, Serduszko.”

He turned away, back flat on the roof. Once again he looks to the cosmos, honing in on something beyond your comprehension.

“I am not done yet. I still wish to see the glory of Poland, but I want my own happiness.”

“Naturally,” you nod. Out of all the soldiers you knew, no one deserved a happy ending more than him. One where the monster is slain, peace is restored, and the hero lives happily ever after.

“I dream of returning home, I will bring my friends of new to the land of old.”

You offered a light hum of approval. It was such a simple wish, but wasn’t that the case for all heroes? To wish for something so mundane but to naturally bring greatness? Even when their dreams are supposedly selfish, their innate kindness brings glory to the good and delivers swift justice to those necessary.

“You are there,” Sobiesław murmured. Like a dream you question if he even spoke, voice so airy it blended with the rush of the breeze against your ears. Even the coarse edges of his voice become one with the low tones emanating from a nearby ventilation unit.

“You are in all of my dreams.”

Sobiesław is not looking at you, attention still trained on the stars, perhaps waiting for one to shoot across the sky. To make a wish, any little bit of aid to make a dream come true and you’re tempted to try and shoot one down for him with a rifle. Anything for him. Perhaps it was possible to fight selflessly, to bring another’s dream to fruition. Was there such a thing as staying alive for someone else? To spend your missions ensuring you return to base not for your own self, but so Sobiesław will have someone to bring home? But you can not guarantee your own life. You refused to make empty promises - Sobiesław absolutely hates them - so instead, you only offer your flimsy honesty.

“I think that dream is doable.”

“You are the hardest part about it.”

“What?”

You sat up immediately. You shot a light-hearted glare but your heart genuinely felt a pang at the sadness invading Sobiesław’s voice. How his nose twitches, trying to prevent a frown from settling on his face.

“But I’m right here!” You brought both hands to hammer at your chest, nailing in your point. “I better not be kicked out of SpecGru anytime soon. I’d love to be one of the friends you bring back home-”

“Ha!”

Sobiesław lets out a singular laugh, all air escaping his lungs to create a foreign sound that is as bitter as it is loud. You were sure he frightened a couple birds in a nearby tree who decided to migrate early from the disruption. You hoped none of the operators went to bed early else they would have had a nasty wake up call as his voice travelled in all directions, invading any of the open windows in the base.

When the echoes of his laugh settled to the ground, it dragged the warmth in the air with it. A sombre coldness came tenfold, you started to wrap your arms around your form, entering a foetal position as you looked at Sobiesław.

“It is my fault,” his confession comes out in a low groan, bringing up a hand to rub at his face. In between rubs he lets out a few quiet curses, words strained. When he is done, he still isn’t looking at you.

“I do not want to bring you back to Poland as just a friend.”

He dared to look at you and the light in his eyes snatched the air out of your lungs. Even under furrowed eyebrows his pupils were blown wide, taking you in as if you were the stars themselves. All seeing, all knowing. Even though you thought nothing special of yourself he turns to you with reverence as if you were the one who could make all his dreams come true.

You bring your gaze up to the sky, in hopes that the infinite expanse of the universe could do anything for your pounding heart. But they did little to settle your heart or your hasty breaths. The stars above really weren’t anything of wonder, were they? A shooting star is only a meteor, a large rock that will disintegrate in due time. The heroes of the past were often only average joes that were in the right place at the right time. Dreams were only the remnants of memories and experiences being fired off by neurons, to be forgotten in the void once one wakes up.

And yet you couldn’t help but romanticise it all the same.

It wouldn’t hurt, would it? Just like how Sobiesław keeps prancing around the base telling everyone his childhood dreams of a hussar were “fate”, couldn’t you make this fate too? Magical, like a prophecy. A promise that could survive any time or mission, that holds strong even against fate itself. The tale of Sobiesław’s recurring dreams that guide him to glory and consequently to you. A legend of your own.

“Then don’t,” you whispered.

“Take me to Poland as your lover.”

You didn’t think Sobiesław could look at you anymore in awe than before, but tonight was full of surprises. A heavy pause stills the air as he takes just a moment too long to understand your words. You couldn’t help but smile at how his face contorted with shock and confusion, he probably didn’t expect you to reciprocate so suddenly. But just like him, you had been dreaming of a scenario like this.

“You always have such good ideas,” Sobiesław chuckled. His boyish grin is roughened by his ragged features, but it doesn’t make it any less endearing. Pure and genuine, it had been a long time since you had seen such an expression on him. Sitting up, he reaches over to slide you across to him and again you find yourself ogling his impressive musculature. The fibres of his body swelling and flexing, his every move seemed to embody the strength of a hundred warriors. Such power and potential devoted to little old you as Sobiesław pulls you flush to his own body.

He’s like an overgrown heater, his body warmth emanating even through the thick wool of his jumper. Warm as though he was the very campfire that soldiers lit up for peace and respite at the end of a day of bloodshed. But not as warm as the lips that pressed against yours when you tilted your head to look up at him. His lips were a little chapped, the remnants of his celebratory vodka adding a crisp tang to the kiss. His actions driven by sheer passion, an arm now circling your shoulder blades and pulling you impossibly tight to him. You were trapped in his embrace, whole body entranced by his. All that was on your mind was the feeling of his being surrounding you. His calloused hands gripped onto you with a pleasant burn. Even as you struggled to breathe through your nose, your senses were filled with his cologne spiked with the smell of gunpowder and wilderness.

He let out a disapproving huff as you reluctantly pull away from him for some air, but Sobiesław still looks ever the victorious soldier.

“You make me indulge too much, Serduszko,” he exhaled.

You pressed your cheek into the fabric of his jumper, breaking into a fond smile as you cuddle into him.

“You know, you’ve never told me what that meant.”

Sobiesław took a moment to pull his head back far enough to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“It means ‘sweetheart’,” he replied smugly.

You froze.

“You mean, you called me that on missions? When we were talking to our contractors? Our direct superiors?!”

“Uh… Good thing no one else speaks Polish here, yes?”

With a joyous laugh like his, you can’t bring yourself to be angry.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[bornnraisedinsilenthill]

I understand people who are disappointed in Dragon Age’s lack of darkness in the newer games.

Yes, it was funny, quirky and stupid. Always was and hopefully always will be.

But what I see most people missing, is how dark Origins could be and how little impact the dark stuff in Inquisition had. Example:

When you meet Hespith in Origins and learn about broodmother’s, it rightfully freaks you out. The gore lying on the floor, the poem being recited in the background and the realisation of what had happened, what has to happen to create a broodmother, all perfectly made to present the twisted shape of the enemy to you and add a vitality to your rise against the blight. It adds together almost beautifully to create the most horrifying quest in the entire game.

(I will not add a picture of the scene here, because Hespith’s haunted face genuinely unsettles me. Her face alone manages to encapsulate the horror of this scene.)

In Inquisition you fall into the fade and into the lair of an overpowered fear demon. Fear demon, whose purpose is to torture you with your nightmares. It is the perfect quest to go wild with the horror aspects, that built the Dragon Age games. To build up an unsettling atmosphere, so that the enemy and the setting could pay off on the idea. To have the demon torment you, perhaps isolate you, and haunt every player who replays the game. Instead the demon kind of roasts your companions.

This was merely the example that bothered me the most, as I played the quest, hoped for a lot and was left a little underwhelmed. It hurts especially after the quest, wherein you’re sent forth in time. That one used its’ darkness to give your Inquisitor a taste of the future, should the enemy succeed.

Similar games, like the Witcher or Baldurs Gate, are able to balance the light and darkness in equal measure. Sure, you get drunk with your Witcher buddies, but you will always rethink your choice to free or not to free the demon under the tree, to save or not to safe the children from the bog. It makes you understand Geralt’s decision to stay away from most choices. Sure, the sexy vampire is sexy, but also suffers from how he was used as a sexual object by his former master and how you can do the same. It makes you rethink your own actions and understand Astarion better.

When Solas tells you, that he is Fen’Harel, it was given all the buildup it needed and will forever be, in my opinion, one of the best plot twists in history. It makes you replay the game, analyse his dialogue and analyse him. I merely wish the rest of the game and its’ quests be treated with the same amount of importance and care. Because yes, Dragon Age is goofy, but that is not all it is. And we’re right to worry, that it may have lost its’ dark moments and with it its’ depth, as honestly tell me, how much did you find the side quest, especially the ones in the Hinterlands, in Inquisition interesting?

I want the Evanuris to make the impact they deserve to make in the world, story and the player. I want the story to not only give me a fun time, but to leave a certain darkness and sadness in it, to make the fun moments shine so much more. I do not want to play the game and find, that it lost its’ charm, because it was too afraid to tell a deep story and too interested in making money. I do not want to play a game of a beloved franchise, to find it hurting the name of the others, that came before.

[honeeslust]

Them | part 4

🖤 WC: + 1785 or whatever 🙄

🖤 So this is one for the anime guys with the dreamiest dead eyes and forever sullen mood. They're not wasting time with bullshit and some people can't handle that, but it's what draws you to him. He's not shy and he can even be so rude, but somehow incredibly gentle with you. If you feen like I do, it's because you know you're getting the best of both worlds…They treat you like a princess but they wanna possess you. The combination of the two?? I think it'll go a lol something like this…

🖤 Levi, Megumi, Toji, Choso, Suguru, Obanai, Giyu, Anzai, Mikey, Baji, Dabi, and whoever else you see fits 😊 all characters implied are consenting adults!!

It was the hottest day of the summer so far and it carried right into the night. You had stopped for ice cream hoping to get some sort of relief from the unbearable heat wave. You stood just off to the side, eyes to the stars in the sky as you wiped the sweat from your brow. You turned to him just in time to see him thank the vendor, handing over cash and wishing him well. He returns to you with the sweet treat in hand and an even sweeter soft smile on his eyes that was reserved for you alone.

He held your hand as you walked the short path to the spot he picked out for you both. Setting the basket down, he grabs a blanket and unfolds it before you and drops to his knees. You slipped your hand into his awaiting one. Your gentle Thanks earning his heart stopping sideways smile. You tucked your short dress between your legs to sit next to him, drawing in a shaky breath as you felt his hand on you. He just barely grazes the exposed skin of your lower back but your body’s reaction is intense. As you opened yourself up to him, his gaze steadied on your lips and the way you smiled at him.

Mmmm, vanilla you whispered under your breath looking at the perfectly spiraled ribbons adorning the sweet treat before darting your eyes at him. You were wondering if he would be as sweet with you when he fucked you, or would he be rough? The dark look about his eye hinted towards the latter, or maybe even somewhere in between. Either way, something seemed to shift in him. After all, you were basically eye fucking him, licking the sweet cream up with your tongue, maybe doing so just a little slower than you needed to. You could see how your teasing was affecting him.

Licking his lips, his hands roughly reaching for you, he pulls you closer. You were absolutely the center of his attention as he was already contemplating the ways he could make you cry out for him. He wanted to know what makes you moan and what makes you weak. What kinds of kisses make you shy away, what touches make you writhe?

Not much for words when it comes to how he feels about you, but his actions always let you know just how much he cares. Even the way he looked at you right now with daring look in his eyes, shining almost too bright for his ebony locks that fell over his brow in that boyish way. The contrast was so mesmerizing that you found yourself wanting to know what lie beyond the little hint of the devil that lingered in them. You decided you were done making him wait, you wanted to open up and give him control. You wanted to be his. Want some? You asked a devious smile upon your lips.

I’d love some. Before you can extend the cone to him, his mouth is on your lips. He moans through parted lips, making you thread your fingers in his hair, his own keeping you tight in his grasp. your tongue laps over his so sweetly that you're moaning already. As you shared the sweet taste with him, you forget all about the creamy treat that was now dripping onto your thighs. He breaks the kiss to your disappointed sigh. Please.. You tremble wiiling him to keep kissing you. He only glares at you, the corner of his mouth turning up, Steady now… I need to get this. Taking the treat from you, he went after the stream of sticky liquid, lapping it up with an inquisitive tongue shocking you with how good he looked watching you twist for him. Please don't stop. He never planned to, not with the way you were coming undone for him.

You slip the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, and he like what he sees. He doesn't care you're out in the open, all he knows is that he has to have you. He holds the cone over your body and the melting drops splatter across your chest. He hovers the it over your nipple and the icy sensation has you moaning his name while you squirm beneath him, your fingers are clenching into tight fists, shivers radiating through you entire body.

He was fixated on you, how you were so easily susceptible to every little touch. His mouth fell upon you, making your body arch, from the way he trailed his tongue all over, sucking the sticky mess from your salty flesh. He wedged himself between your legs, cascading more wet kisses across your collar, your shoulder, and back to your lips where he found himself needing to reciprocate how good you made him feel.

He makes out with you, treating your lips as if they were made of sugar, toying with the fullness with a skillful tongue. He breaks away, caressing your cheek with hot fingertips, Open for me… your lips part, little butterflies dancing in your stomach. Show me your tongue. You stuck it out for him. and it was met with more of the creamy confection dripping onto your palate until it spilled down the sides of your mouth and fell onto your chest. There's a good girl. Again, acutely aware of the surrounding sounds and movements, he knew he had the time and opportunity to indulge in you. You leaned back on your arms, the loose straps falling down shoulders. Please, you begged, inviting him back for another taste.

adoring the mess he made of you, he hooks his arm around you, pulling at the back of your neck to lay you down beneath him. He uses his tongues to clean you up ,sucking and kissing until his mouth sought out the sensitive bead, licking it up and down until he kissed away all of the sticky mess.

He hovers, his hips sinking between your legs but not quite giving you all of his weight. You hated not being able to feel more of him, but he knew what he was doing. He wanted you losing yourself this way. He wanted you ready to forget everything else and you were, sighing to him, legs hooking around his waist, you pleaded …need to feel you.

He takes hold of your hips that you’re ur constantly shoving toward him. Shhhhh greedy girl, he whispers looping his fingers into your panties. You tilt your hips, letting him slide the lacey fabric down your thighs. Grateful for the isolated spot he chose, he forcefully spread your legs open to him. gorgeous, he regards the enticing display, beginning to suck all over your thighs until they are left covered with his marks.

Now, nothing else matters. Especially not the idea of being caught in such a lewd display. If anything it made your over-sensitized core jump at every single swipe of his tongue.

He was enraptured, sucking on your salty slick flesh, his fingers now sliding through your swollen pink lips, your hips fitting perfectly into his grip. Was it possible to detonate upon impact? You had your answer the moment his mouth tested wetness between your legs. He looked on with a satisfied glint in his eye.

He never once lets go, never once does his tongue stop assaulting your clit, never once does he let you flinch away from the way his mouth made love to your pussy. He only pulls you closer, burying his face deeper until he can't breathe. He adores you like this, how you give you’re self over to the pleasures he could make you feel.

He wanted to revel in the exact moment you became his. Exploiting every weakness he knew of you to bring you close to the edge before finally knowing what you felt like.

By the time he's taking your ankle into his grasp, you're the one melting, trying to remind yourself to breathe. To experience each little moment and savor it. He kisses and nips along the inside of your calf. Reflexively, you kicked him on the shoulder, that tickles you half laugh a moan. He smirks, laying on his side behind you, kissing the back of your shoulder as he undoes his pants. You are reduced to a pile of writhing flesh and bone as he prods you with his engorged cock. He guides your leg upward, giving you a perfect view of the blushing tip as he taps it onto your opening. He strokes it along your puffy wet lips, again and again, his words melting in your ear…my pretty girl so ready for me to feel her. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen… his teeth are grazing your ear making you mumble his name... Lemmie be inside you... Tap.. let me feel you, he bit down, pumping his hips into you, purposely edging your shivering cunt. Let me hear you say it. Say you want me inside you pretty girl, say it for me. Please please please ___fuck me, you know I want you, his sick throbbing in his hands, he knows he can’t wait anymore. He groans appreciatively in your ear when he finally inches inside you.

Ohh, thank you — you cry, your nails dragging up his arms. The cuts you’re making only making him grip you tighter. Rough little one are you? But look at you taking it though. He laughs resisting the urge to fuck you deeper. slow hands rub along your side as he fills you little by little. Gooooood fuckin girl. His voice rattles along your flesh making it hard to keep your eyes open. When your head falls, he slows his pace, keeping one arm under your leg, the other pulls your body closer so he could see the faces you made as he sank deeper into you. You gotta look at me baby, I wanna see it in your face. I wanna see how you let go pretty one, come here. Only half of it is in, but fuck does it still feel good. he pulses his hips, nudging at that gooey center that makes your entire body vibrate. That heavy feeling building so fast you know you'll break. He’s got you right where he wants you. weak, tears already forming in your eyes so full, baby I’m gunna come.

Yes, you feel so good.. wanna go deeper baby…lemmie fill you. He does exactly that, gripping you tighter by the hips to push in and out, that cock stretching you so good you couldn’t hold back if your tried. All the wetness he churns out of your clenching hole makes such slutty sounds. Mmmm, my god I.. I can’t, you’re crying and lips trembling, but you can baby, your entire body is shaking, his thrusts becoming heavier everytime he rutts back into you. You’re sprawled out against him, letting him batter your sticky cunt that was already soaking his pulsing cock. But still, he’s stroking your sweet spot, whispering to you keeeep coming, I need to fill you all the way baby. Your wide eyes peering at him now, he's finally burying every inch into you, so deep that you squeal his name, his breath catches in his chest when you look at him on the brink of losing it all, mhmm he praises ready to help you over the edge again, there’s a good girl, huhhh, sssss yess. Look how you take this dick. Fuck yes, come with me, pretty girl? he fucks you erratically until his release runs deep in your soggy embrace and you cling to him so tight that he can't pull back. He stays deep, your tremors milking his fat cock for every ounce it is worth. He glances over his shoulder, hearing footsteps approaching from a ways away. He kisses your shoulder again, already fixing your dress let me get this, someone’s coming.

Thanks to my love bugs who low-key encouraged me to just post my shit regardless. I think all that matters is that I get this shit outta my head. It feels good to get lost in imagination from time to time. ☺️ no tags cause this is shit 😩

[aifanfictions]

Write a love story about (y/n) who becomes the newest member of Phantom Troupe from Hunter x Hunter and Hisoka starts to fancy (y/n) so he starts showing off in front of her and tries to express his feelings thru his actions because he doesn't seem like the type of guy that woud confess his feelings normally.

Enigma of Desire

In a world marked by extraordinary abilities, clandestine organizations, and enigmatic individuals, a tale of love was about to unfurl, woven into the very fabric of this intricate tapestry. (Y/N), a figure cloaked in mystery, had recently become the newest member of a notorious group of outlaws. Their past remained veiled in secrecy, making them an enigma even among their own companions. Each member harbored unique aspirations and desires, and (Y/N) was no exception. This group, in all its chaos, had become their sanctuary and a means to find purpose in a tumultuous existence.

And then there was Hisoka, a master of the uncanny and an enthusiast for the extraordinary. His relentless pursuit of formidable adversaries was rivaled only by his obsession with (Y/N). From the very moment (Y/N) joined the group, Hisoka found himself captivated, drawn to their presence in a way he couldn't quite comprehend.

Yet, Hisoka was not the type to express his emotions in the ordinary fashion. Instead, he channeled his feelings into extravagant displays and ostentatious exhibitions, all meant to captivate the attention of (Y/N).

During training sessions, Hisoka's acrobatics became breathtaking performances. His mastery of a unique power was showcased with an air of flamboyance that only he could muster. Every move was executed with precision, every technique honed to perfection, all to capture (Y/N)'s gaze and perhaps, their heart.

One day, within the confines of a dimly lit room, (Y/N) and Hisoka found themselves alone together. Hisoka, always one for dramatic entrances, materialized before (Y/N) with a flourish of his cards.

"Shall we engage in a game of skill?" Hisoka's voice oozed seduction and mischief, his eyes fixed intently on (Y/N).

(Y/N) raised an inquisitive eyebrow, intrigued by Hisoka's proposition. "What sort of game are you suggesting?"

With a sly smile, Hisoka introduced a complex card game, infused with their unique powers. As the game progressed, the atmosphere grew charged, a contest of not only strategy but also emotions, as Hisoka's subtle pursuit continued.

The culmination of the game was a spectacle to behold. Hisoka's cards danced through the air, forming intricate patterns of death-defying beauty. With a theatrical flourish, he revealed his final card, and the room seemed to hold its breath.

(Y/N) couldn't help but be ensnared by Hisoka's performance. His charisma and intensity were impossible to ignore. They sensed that beneath Hisoka's flamboyance, there was a hidden layer of emotion waiting to be unveiled.

After the game, as they sat in the dimly lit room, (Y/N) turned to Hisoka, curiosity in their eyes. "What is it you truly desire, Hisoka? Why all these elaborate displays?"

Hisoka paused for a moment, his usually confident facade faltering. Gazing deeply into (Y/N)'s eyes, he spoke from the heart. "I am drawn to you, (Y/N), in ways I can't decipher. You are not just another challenge; you are something beyond. I can't resist this magnetic pull."

(Y/N) was taken aback by Hisoka's unexpected confession. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from the enigmatic magician. Reaching out, they touched Hisoka's hand, their fingers intertwining.

"I may not fully understand your feelings, Hisoka, but I can't deny that there's something between us," (Y/N) said softly. "Let's journey into this unknown together."

Hisoka's usually devilish grin softened into something akin to genuine warmth. As they sat there, hand in hand, in a world filled with shadows and turmoil, they knew that their love story was as unconventional and unpredictable as the world they inhabited.

In this enigmatic realm, (Y/N) and Hisoka's love became a rare and exhilarating thread in the intricate tapestry, defying expectations, embracing the thrill of the unknown, and weaving its path through the complexities of their existence.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[yanderes-galore]

Heres the second one

Second one is a Dragon Age: Inquisition with a Yandere Verric Tethras Concept, he's the dwarven character companion

I love him cuz of his chest hair

Okay! I watched a retrospective on the series and watched character lore/analysis for Varric before writing this. Despite that things may be off, so please bear with me. Sorry it took so long :( The wiki doesn't give me his personality so I had to do some guessing. I'll take feedback as this is my first Dragon Age fic.

Yandere! Varric Tethras Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Blackmail/Deception, Some trauma, Subtle corruption via Red Lyrium, Overprotective behavior, Some Possessive behavior, Controlling behavior, Stalking, Mentioned possible kidnapping/isolation, Forced/Dubious companionship/relationship.

Varric, a dwarf and head of his family ever since his brother lost his mind... soon even becoming ruler of Kirkwall in Inquisition.

His family is primarily known for being merchants.

But they also seem (IMO) to have a mafia-like characteristic to them, as Varric always seems to have information you need and often helps his party out with obstacles.

Varric's primary weapon is a specialized crossbow named 'Bianca' and he is primarily good-hearted in nature.

Varric is also known to be a storyteller, specifically for tragedies.

He is a good friend of Hawke, which could be a way you meet him.

Or perhaps you met the dwarf in a tavern.

Either way, Varric likes to make friends with his companions.

He appreciates kind and thoughtful acts and, despite his background, is a good person.

Varric is a rogue and monitors a "spy network" in his family, which is no doubt how he gets his information.

In terms of making him yandere... here's my theory.

Perhaps we can involve Red Lyrium in some way... as Varric has some experience with it.

It wouldn't be enough to fully corrupt him... but maybe that could drive him to do more obsessive acts?

For this concept I'll say you're a companion of Hawke, someone Varric has to work with often.

As a result he naturally tries to get to know you and be your friend.

Despite the dwarf's friendly nature... he is skilled with diplomacy, lying, and blackmail.

So I feel Varric is capable of being manipulative to get what he wants.

His friendly nature may make you trust him, but you can hear distrust from other companions.

Despite this he is very loyal.

In terms of what intention he'd be more likely to have as a yandere, I'd say he may be more likely to be a platonic yandere.

I'm not saying he can't be a romantic yandere, I just believe it would take longer due to his past.

Varric is a good friend, he could also be a good partner, but I think his yandere tendencies would be from Red Lyrium exposure.

Sure, he's already capable of manipulative actions, but he wouldn't use them to get you unless he was driven by something darker.

Red Lyrium would be a perfect cause for his obsessive behavior since his story involves it.

Varric starts off very friendly and compassionate towards you.

As you travel with Varric and/or Hawke, he's always spinning some tale for you to listen to.

He is charming to listen to and is playful with the way he speaks to you.

Even before Red Lyrium alters his way of thinking he is protective and caring towards you.

You're a close friend, one he begins to trust as you two bond.

Despite his mischievous side... he isn't that bad to be around.

Although when he's around Red Lyrium more often, like in Dragon Age Inquisition, his behavior gets more corrupted.

It's not enough to completely take over... but enough to alter his feelings towards you.

This corruption may either make him a paranoid and overprotective friend who won't leave you alone...

Or make him interpret blooming romantic feelings as feelings of possession.

He isn't fully in control of such behavior, but there's times he's lucid.

I feel like Red Lyrium affecting him would make him feel guilty.

After all... he thinks of his brother.

He doesn't want to harm you, but here he is...

He's manipulating you, stalking you, blackmailing you and lying to you to get you to stay.

There's times he apologizes... although there's other times he just won't let you go, gripping your hand tightly.

Varric hates being a thug, not really wanting to use violence to make others comply.

However, as Red Lyrium makes him Overprotective/Possessive of you... he does think of just using his crossbow to remove perceived threats.

His obsession/corruption makes him paranoid.

He feels he can lose you if he isn't careful.

So in his mind he should stick by you, keep you safe... keep you his.

Even in this mindset he somewhat trusts Hawke with you... but dislikes The Inquisitor around you.

He's shown to be more jealous at times in this state to.

You want to get Varric help, or even distance yourself from him.

Yet Varric never seems to have you out of his sight.

He always seems to know everything about you.

After all... you're companions... there's no need to fear him.

Varric gets increasingly more affectionate towards you.

Hand holding, hugs... kisses if his intentions turn romantic due to his corruption.

How obsessive he is begins to scare you.

Far are you know there's no cure for the mild corruption Varric is experiencing.

So his mindset towards you may get worse and worse...

Who knows how long it will be before Varric feels the only way to keep you safe is in a cell...

A feat easier than you think once he's ruler of Kirkwall.

[pastramiace]

- Sanji is upset or hurt and luffy tries to “fix” him by giving Sanji food, but not just any food…luffy’s food.

Sanji hung a cold towel over the back of his neck, wincing a little at the cold temperature before letting out a small sigh. Sweat plastered his forehead and his button up clung to his back with an unflattering feeling. Warm would be an understatement for how the kitchen felt. To Sanji, it felt as if the mid-day sun was burning a hole straight through the wooden ceiling.

Opening the small window above the sink had done little except invite more humid air into the kitchen. A short huff came from the cook as he dejectedly sat down. He raised his arms above his head, a couple of pops sounding shortly after and granting a bit of reprieve to his aching body.

The crew’s latest battle at Alabasta had done more than a number on them and Sanji was definitely feeling that residual pain. It didn’t help that it was certainly hot enough to get off with minimal reprimand from Chopper if you happen to take off your bandages. The swordsman had definitely taken advantage of that.

So, bandage-less and sweaty, Sanji rested his forehead against the table’s surface in front of him and closed his eyes, tired eyelids relishing in the action.

He hadn’t even noticed he had fallen asleep until something soft poked at his cheek, Sanji frowning but still keeping his eyes closed, hoping that whatever or whoever it was would leave him alone. Another poke, this time followed by a whine that had Sanji peeling his eyes open in disappointment.

“Sanji~” Luffy’s face was right in front of his, the captain’s breath puffing over his nose as the younger pouted, eyes twinkling when they met Sanji’s. “Sanji~ I’m hungry.” Luffy’s hands gripped his stomach in faux agony…or many it was real agony, Sanji was never sure when it came to his captain.

Sanji’s dry lips stuck together a little bit before breaking apart, his head throbbing as he lifted it up to confront the problem at hand. “There’s food in the fridge,” he mumbled, hand pressing against his throbbing head as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“Sanji, you never leave the fridge unlocked for me,” Luffy’s pout grew and Sanji groaned in displeasure as the younger threw his stretchy arms around him, Luffy sticking himself to Sanji before letting out an amused sound. “Eww Sanji’s sticky.”

“Cause it’s hot captain,” Sanji brought his hands up, trying to push or pry Luffy from his body, missing the confused look in Luffy’s face, “Seriously it’s too hot, leggo of me.” Sanji huffed and Luffy’s eyebrows drew together, lips forming a small line as he puffed his cheeks out.

“It’s not hot, it’s like regular,” Luffy protested and Sanji rolled his eyes, finally managing to push Luffy off of him.

Hand pushing against the table’s surface, Sanji pushed himself upwards, grimacing as his whole body protested. He made his way over to the fridge, making sure to hide the lock combination as he opened it. Surprisingly enough, Luffy didn’t seem much interested as he sat cross-legged on the floor, head resting on his fist in an inquisitive position.

Only ten minutes had passed before Sanji was putting the final pieces of Luffy’s meal together, his favorite combination of meat, rice, and veggies - Sanji convinced him they weren’t veggies - that were formed into balls. Luffy had moved himself from the floor and was now rolling himself back and forth on the bench as he waited impatiently for his meal, shooting up with stars in his eyes as Sanji placed down the food in front of him.

Sanji didn’t bother to tell his captain that they were still hot from the stove. Nothing could stop Luffy from food in front of him and Sanji let out an amused huff as Luffy’s hands moved at lightening speed. The cook put together a couple more rice balls.

“Mfph Mm Umfh,” Luffy’s inaudible words caught Sanji's attention, the cook turning to see Luffy with cheeks stuffed and stretched out with food, a sight that always warmed his heart. Sanji gestured to the rice balls he just finished making as he turned the sink on, running his hands under cold water -- a refreshing feeling after standing by the stove in the smoldering room.

"There's some more right there," Sanji answered what he could only assume Luffy was mumbling with his mouth full of food, "I don't wanna hear from Chopper later about an upset stomach, eat those slower."

"MPFH," Luffy protested, and Sanji turned off the water, taking the towel off his shoulder as he dried his hands. Turning around, Sanji raised an eyebrow in question, looking between Luffy and a single rice ball that had managed to survive the massacre.

"Is there something wrong with it?" Sanji panicked a little, taking a couple of steps towards Luffy wondering what could possibly be wrong with the captain's food that would prevent him from eating it. Luffy held his hand up, Sanji stopping before getting a closer look at the food.

Luffy beckoned him closer and grabbed the rice ball in his free hand, the other gripping onto the bottom of Sanji's shirt. Before the cook could react, Luffy's hand was shooting towards his face, rice ball in hand which was soon stuffed into Sanji's mouth along with a certain captain's hand. Sanji choked a little as he tried to chew the food, Luffy's hand retracting with a proud smile on his face.

Sanji didn't even want to think about the last time Luffy washed his hands or what grime might have been covering them as he carefully chewed and swallowed the rice ball, Luffy doing the same with his accumulation of rice balls. They both swallowed.

"What the f-"

"I fixed you!" Luffy's voice cheered over Sanji's polite question, Luffy jumping up onto the bench and punching his fist into the air. "You should be feeling better now that you've had some yummy food, no more sickness."

"Sickness?" Sanji protested, meeting Luffy's eyes as the captain leaned down so they were eye-to-eye with each other, "Luffy I'm not sick." A puzzled expression arose on the younger's face, his head quirking to the side.

"Yeah you are," Luffy declared with a matter-of-fact tone, "You're all red and saying it's hot when it's not and you got injured in Alabasta which Chopper and Robin explained to me that injured can cause illness sometimes so I should always go to Chopper." Luffy's pinkie finger somehow found its way into his nose halfway through his explanation.

Placing his hand on the back of his sweaty neck, Sanji paused for a second, deciding to hear Luffy out which should have been the final reason to accept that he was ill. He had been feeling hot and achy since Alabasta but he had just chalked it up to the weather and post-battle injuries. Not that it wasn't, but being sick could also be contributing to it.

A sigh. "Alright Luffy, I'll go talk to Chopper, but you can't just put your hands in other people's mouths," Sanji reprimanded as Luffy beamed, his arm stretching behind Sanji and bringing back the final amount of rice balls. But, instead of shoving them into his mouth, Luffy grabbed Sanji's hands and dumped the remaining food into them.

"Chopper can fix you," Luffy stated as Sanji stared at him in surprise, even more shocked that the other had given up more than one of his pieces of food, "But your food makes me feel all better too so you should have some."

Another smile stretched across his captain's face before he plucked one of the rice balls out of Sanji's hands and shoved it in his own mouth, pulling himself out of the kitchen with a familiar laugh. A snort left Sanji's mouth and he looked down at the pieces of food in his hands. His heart swelled with pride and happiness that Luffy had not just shared his food but had done so with the prenotion that it would heal him.

The cook popped another one of the rice balls into his mouth, smiling a bit as he left the kitchen in search of Chopper. It never hurt to get checked out by their own personal doctor.