#♡drabbles 3

[sorcerous-caress]

Drabbles 3

♡ Characters

[Part one here] [part two]

Shadowheart

Calling you pathetic

Collaring you

Slut shaming you

Degrading praise

Magical vibrating collar

Sharing with Minthara

Lifespan

Manhandling

Au's

Au's Art by @/botanicalbard

Elf Reader

Overanalysing hair

Reflection au, cheating on Gale with SH

Minthara

Cucking your bf

Strap

Barking for her

Soft sub Minthara

Sharing with shart

Strap 2

Drow pornhub

Being called a princess

Neck tattoo

Meme 1

Forced to share

Neck tattoo 2

Neck tattoo 3

Disappointed

Minthara scenarios 1

Minthara scenarios 2

Male drow reader

Toxic Masculinity

Cucking Nere

Mizora

Delivering what she promised

Arnell hollowleaf (Shadowheart's dad)

Fuck marry kill

Bargaining

How old is your dad?

Tour

Meme 1

Bargaining 2

Half-elf in making

Sitting on his lap

Learning to read

My beloved

One chance

Pick up lines

Cazador

Experiments

Sub Cazador

Free use spawn

Brainrot

Gortash

Femme fetal

Meme 1

Dame Aylin

Grocery store

Preaching

Orin

Paintings

Knife play

Cucking Minthara

Bhaalcest

Karniss

Laying eggs

Laezel

Fucking her red dragon

Meme 1

Nine fingers Keene

Dom mommy

Batman

Jaheira

Wildshape

Karlach

Frat fuckboy

Stay at home

Hades

Workout

University

Durge enabling bloodthirsty Karlach

Using the strap as her cock

Viconia

Gilf failure

Voss

Humiliation

Halsin

Allergic reader

Sugar baby Halsin

Meme 1

Gale

Meme 1

Meme 2

Meme 3

Astarion

Boring relationship

Meme 1

Wyll

Demon Reader bottom Wyll

Several characters

What do they live for

Cucking men | ♡

Spanking

Alyin and Karlach pinning

Play house

If reader was a parent

Turning into a spider

Would they look back as they walked you out of hades

Reacting to Astarion drinking your blood

Cuddling puppies

With a rich noble Tav

Gith insecure Tav

Songs rec

Yandere most to least likely

Ending celebration

Showing them affection with a massage

[dollyfetti]

“do you think we’re soulmates?”

“i don’t believe in that shit.” katsuki’s hand tangles in your messy hair sprawled against the pillow he fought you over and ultimately gave to you with a small roll of his eyes.

you huff against his chest, frowning at his words. “you don’t think we were meant to be?”

“hell no.” he grins almost a little mockingly

“why not..?” you mutter, thankful your face is out of his sight because your disappointed expression is really quite laughable.

it’s silent for a long moment, and in the dark room, you assume he fell asleep. you sigh, cautiously readjusting your position to be more comfortable as you shut your eyes, ready to sleep.

that is until his hand drops from your hair onto your arm, rubbing small circles. “i don’t think i’m meant to be with anyone.” he whispers, staring up at his ceiling, still covered in glow in the dark stars from when he was a kid. “i think i just got lucky.”

you keep your eyes closed, half asleep as you respond immediately, “well, i don’t believe in luck. everything happens for a reason, suki.”

“that’s your prerogative, i guess.” he hums, his motions slowing down against your arm, resting there lazily.

“mm,” you wrap your arms around his torso, your cheek smushing against his chest.

another long moment passes, and katsuki’s still staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“you asleep?” he murmurs, careful not to wake you if you are.

“no, baby.”

he nods to himself, leaning down to plant a kiss on your head. “okay. i love you. thank you.” he whispers before resting back on his bed and shutting his eyes.

“thank you for what?” you reply, smiling softly at his affection.

he shrugs lightly before sleep takes over him, his arms engulfed around you without another word.

[markiecake]

🍰

warnings/ tags: smut (MINORS DNI !!!), soft dom! mark (ofc), fem! reader, breeding kink, cum basically used as lube (not explicitly stated but you'll get it), squirting, pet names (angel, baby), overstimulation, mark has so much stamina it's actually ridiculous

thinkin bout mark who HAS to cum inside every single time he fucks you 😵‍💫 at least once, if not multiple times !!

you swear he's been fucking you for a solid hour, if not longer, but he is showing absolutely no signs of letting up.

his forearms were resting on either side of your head as he placed kisses to your neck.

"i know, baby, i know," he breathed out as you whined underneath him, "taking it so well for me."

your pussy is leaking with a mix of his cum and your own, only amplifying the squelching noises, and your embarrassment :,(

moans and whimpers of "markie" and "please" were all that was leaving your mouth, which was quickly hushed by mark's lips on yours.

"so close, angel, just a little longer." he whispered against your lips, but you had lost count of how many times he had said that to be honest. his stamina is crazy i'm so sure of it !!!!

every thrust made you twitch with overstimulation. your neck was covered in hickies and bites, and your chin was covered in spit.

he's fucking you within an inch of your life, for sure. he speeds up his thrusts if thats even possible, and he's breathing out heavily into your ear.

your brain was fuzzy, your jaw was slack; you were literally the definition of cum drunk 😵‍💫

i just KNOW mark is so pretty when he cums :,( a mix of groans, moans and maybe even whines, his eyes screwed shut, burying his face into your neck JSJSJJJS 😞

and TRUST, he cums so much ! even after his previous orgasms, he will literally give you every last drop like his life depends on it i swear.

his abdomen was wet from the amount of times you had cum as well. he's still a pleasure dom at the end of the day !!!

even after just cumming, mark still keeps fucking you through his own overstimulation to make you cum one last time :,)

you end up making a mess of yourself, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you squirt all over him !!!! the duvet and sheets of the bed beneath you are thoroughly soaked, and mark just leans back and watches in awe.

after you've stopped, he pulls away from you, only to look at the mess on your pussy. you whine out when you feel his fingers pushing back in his multiple loads of cum. he's so obsessed with the idea of you being full of him all the time :(

he climbs back up over you so his face is hovering above yours and kisses away the stray tears on your cheeks.

"so full," you whimper.

"i know," he coos at you, " but we wouldn't wanna waste any, right, baby?"

[snowluvvie]

hi snow!! i cant wait for your vday event hehehe♡

could i get a chocolate lava cake with c+j for rafe pls (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

₊˚⊹ ♡ . NSFW ALPHABET (C, J) w/ RAFE CAMERON

₊˚⊹ ♡ . MDNI 18+. warnings — fem!reader, unprotected p in v, cumming on face, light overstimulation, m. masturbation

C is for CUM — anything to do with cum, basically

Rafe is, to his core, gross. In this particular area, he's possessive and unashamed of the ways he shows that—no matter how messy they can be. Like pretty much every other guy you know, he'll take every opportunity to fill you up by cumming inside of you, overstimulating you to the point of whining and attempting to crawl away—unsuccessfully, of course—while he stares at the way your hole swallows him up and how his cum dribbles out of you as he tries to fuck it deeper inside of you.

If you won't let him finish inside, he throws a fit, but it's a short-lived fit before he's badgering you about where else he can cum. As long as it's degrading, he isn't a picky guy. Your face is a top choice whenever he can convince you, you'll never get the look on his face out of your head as you watched with your knees on the ground. His eyebrows scrunched up, mouth falling open as he stroked his angry red cock an inch away from your face. You closed your eyes to let him paint your lips and cheeks with white ropes of cum, but the picture was still crystal-clear in your mind.

J is for JACK OFF — masturbation headcanon

Porn is great and all, but Rafe has absolutely no shame pulling up a random girl's Instagram page and jerking off to that. Genuinely, he only has to meet you once to run straight to your social media when he's lying in bed that night, room dark except for the dim glow of your profile on his phone illuminating his face. He scrolls past any bikini or full-body pictures you have up—ignoring anything he deems to be "bait" for that sort of thing. It has to do with his ego, like if he thinks you posted something specifically to be sexy, he ignores it.

No, he goes to whatever cute pictures you have up. A pretty pic of just your face. Smiling, laughing, innocently sipping at your drink. He imagines that pretty face underneath him, how your eyebrows would furrow and your mouth would go slack as you fell apart while he was fucking you. He stares at pictures of you with happy, glimmering eyes, and imagines what they would look like rolling back into your head as he speared you on his cock. That's what's running through his mind as he's stroking his dick, his bedroom near-silent aside from his quiet groans and the slick sound of his hand moving up and down.

Rafe cums into his fist looking at your innocent, smiling face, and he doesn't feel bad about it in the slightest. He's the type to tell you, actually—tactlessly, the second time you're hanging out or some other time that's way too early. "Yeah, that pic you have up, from a couple weeks ago—the one where you're smilin' real cute. Blew my load to it, hard." Pig. You're shocked, halfway between offended and scandalized and maybe a tiny... tiny bit pleased about it.

[rafesangelita]

really really loved the john b drabble, it’s like ur in my brain xoxo — but i wanna know what ur readers got for xmas!! hope u had a good one <3

: 🧸

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bambi!reader:

a hefty barnes & nobles giftcard, calico critter sets, a fawn patterned throw blanket, lace lingerie tops, brown mascara, rilakkuma blind boxes (bakery keychains), a handmade dollhouse for her little trinkets to live in, and an apple pencil so she could start sketching on her ipad

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 sheep!reader:

babydoll dresses + stockings and frilly socks, vintage barbie dolls, poodle figurines for her vanity, vinyls for her record player, old beauty magazines, hair rollers, ‘marie antoinette’ on dvd so she can watch it whenever she wants, rose scented candles, and some yarn for crocheting

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 latina!kook!reader:

lots of chunky jewelry, cruise tickets, some embellished dresses she’s had her eyes on, lace-up floral heels, shimmery eyeshadow palette, a pair of sunglasses, some stuff from kali uchis’s ‘homebody’ line, bikini sets for weekssss, and pink tory burch sandals

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bitchy!kook!reader:

chrome hearts wallet (in both pink and black), dior heels, black chanel bag, customized chain, black fur coat, leopard print undies + bra, some wildflower phone cases, black silk pj’s, dior lippies, she definitely got some makeup pr, fancy furniture (she spoils herself too ofc)

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bitchy!pogue!reader:

she’s been begging so she finally gets a pole installed in her room, bedazzled platform heels, playboy bunny necklace + matching bracelet and anklet, juicy couture baby tees, victoria’s secrets sparkly lipgloss, glittery makeup bag, fuzzy slippers, pink rolling papers and a little something something from dealer!rafe

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 kook!sweetheart!reader:

lots of scrapbooking material, pink ugg boots, new hair curler + flat iron, chanel hair accessories, new digital camera, vintage chanel heels, her favorite foreign chocolates, swarvoski rings, new bed sheet set + comforters, dainty tea cup set, a few skirts, bath bombs and shower gels

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 farmer’s!daughter!reader:

a new hat, boots with flowers embroidered on the sides, bootcut jeans, a belt buckle to add to her collection, an old doll that she thought she lost, pig plushie, baby chickies, quilted blanket that was made just for her, cherry chapstick + red nail polish, and a new lana del rey vinyl

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 pogue!sweetheart!reader:

a new mixing machine, cutesy cookware + more baking dishes, customized apron, cupcake stickers, some added upgrades to her bakery, two new pairs of kitten heels, a charm bracelet full of goodies, pink lingerie sets, decoden picture frame, and some customized press on nails since she can’t wear long nails consistently

[deansbeer]

★ SUNSETS, SOMBREROS, & SURPRISES // birthday boy edition.

SYNOPSIS. you surprise dean with a getaway to mexico for his birthday, complete with heartfelt gifts, a sunset stroll, and life-changing news.

WARNING(S). birthday fluff | f!reader | implied sex | post-sex cuddles | alcohol consumption | heartfelt declarations of love I mild strong language I dean's fear of flying (related to S1 EP4 of supernatural).

-> if i missed a warning, please do let me know !

KARI'S NOTES. happy bday to baby boy <3 he deserves everything in the entire world, and i believe (in my head) he is very much alive + living his best life after giving up hunting because S15 never happened. anyway! i hope u enjoy this, which was just sitting there in my notes all day <333

DEAN WINCHESTER'S birthday had always been a quiet affair—if it was celebrated at all. most years, it was just a beer, maybe a piece of pie if he was lucky, and maybe sam would remember to say something. it wasn't that he didn't appreciate the effort when it happened; it just wasn't something he was used to. birthdays were just days, right? another year older, another year spent fighting the good fight.

but this year, you weren't having it.

you'd been planning this trip for weeks, keeping everything under wraps as best as you could. it wasn't easy; dean had a way of sniffing out surprises, especially when it came to you. but somehow, you managed to keep him in the dark.

so when you told him—casually, over breakfast—that you had booked a trip for the two of you, his fork froze halfway to his mouth.

"a trip?" he repeated, brows furrowing.

you smiled, taking a sip of your coffee. "yep. two weeks, just you and me. no cases, no monsters, no bunker. just… us."

he gave you a suspicious look. "where?"

"mexico," you said, watching his reaction carefully.

dean blinked. "mexico?"

"mexico," you confirmed, grinning.

he set his fork down, leaning back in his chair. "and how exactly are we getting there? because i know baby's not built for that kinda trip."

you tried not to laugh. "we're flying."

his face immediately twisted into a grimace. "oh, hell no."

"dean—"

"nope. not happening. i'm not getting on a plane."

you sighed, reaching across the table to take his hand. "you survived it once, didn't you? besides, this isn't a hunt. it's a vacation. you have me with you the whole time, and i promise, nothing's gonna happen."

he stared at you, his jaw clenching like he was trying to come up with another excuse. but you gave him that look—the one that always made him cave—and he finally sighed, muttering, "fine. but if i die, i'm haunting your ass."

you laughed, squeezing his hand. "deal."

the flight itself was… tense. dean was on edge the entire time, gripping the armrests like the plane was about to fall out of the sky. you spent most of the flight holding his hand, rubbing soothing circles into his palm, and distracting him with small talk. by the time you landed, he seemed a little less tense, but he still muttered something about never doing this again as you grabbed your bags.

but once you stepped outside and felt the warm sun on your face, all of his complaints seemed to melt away. the two of you made your way to the hotel, checked in, and by the time you reached your room, dean was actually beaming.

the room was beautiful—large windows overlooking the ocean, a king-sized bed, and a balcony where you could hear the waves crashing in the distance. it was perfect.

"damn, sweetheart," dean said, dropping his bag and whistling low. "you really went all out, huh?"

"only the best for you, birthday boy," you teased, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

he turned in your arms, pulling you close. "you didn't have to do all this."

"i wanted to," you said simply, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

the rest of the evening you both spent it enjoying each other. after some steamy sex that left both of you tangled in the sheets, you laid together, the warm breeze from the open balcony door cooling your skin. dean had an arm draped over you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder as you rested your head on his chest.

"this is nice," he murmured, his voice low and content.

"yeah," you agreed, your fingers brushing over the ridges of his abs.

you had two surprises planned for him, but you decided to start with the one you knew he'd love.

the next evening, after a lazy morning spent in bed and a quick swim in the hotel pool, you and dean got ready to head out to a restaurant you'd researched weeks ago.

dean had noticed you staying up late in the bunker, your laptop open and your brow furrowed in concentration. he'd assumed it was for a hunt, maybe some research sam had roped you into. but now, he realized it had all been for this.

as you stepped into the restaurant, dean was immediately greeted by a group of staff who placed a large, brightly decorated sombrero on his head. you'd called ahead, asking if they could do something special for his birthday, and they'd certainly delivered.

he looked ridiculous, but the grin on his face was worth it.

"you planned this too?" he asked, glancing at you as he adjusted the sombrero.

"of course," you said, smiling. "it's your birthday, baby. i wanted it to be special."

the two of you spent the evening laughing, eating some of the best food dean had ever tasted, and him having a few drinks. you even ordered for him in spanish, your fluency leaving him both impressed and—if the look in his eyes was anything to go by—more than a little turned on.

"damn," he said after you helped him pronounce something on the menu. "never thought i'd find spanish sexy, but here we are."

you laughed, shaking your head. "glad i could surprise you."

later, as the two of you walked along the beach, the sun dipping below the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink, dean seemed more relaxed than you'd seen him in years. he was barefoot, his flip-flops dangling from his fingers, and his other hand was firmly clasped in yours.

you wore a long white summer dress, the fabric fluttering in the breeze, and dean couldn't stop stealing glances at you.

"you look beautiful, darlin'," he said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

you smiled, your cheeks warming. "you don't look so bad yourself, my love."

when you reached a pair of deck chairs, you both sat down, dean immediately pulling his closer to yours. his hands rested on your thighs, his touch warm and grounding as he stared out at the ocean.

you took the opportunity to pull out the first gift—a small envelope with his name written on the front in your neat cursive.

"what's this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed it to him.

"open it and find out," you said, grinning.

he carefully tore it open, pulling out the letter and saw tickets inside. his eyes widened as he read the letter, and by the time he got to the tickets, his jaw had dropped.

"no fucking way," he breathed, staring at the words 'Metallica VIP' printed on the tickets.

"yes way," you said, laughing.

"you're serious?" he asked, looking at you like he couldn't believe it.

"dead serious. we're going as soon as we get back."

he was quiet for a moment, his eyes misting over as he looked back at the tickets. then he set them down and pulled you into his arms, kissing you all over your face.

"you're amazing, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

you laughed, brushing a tear from his cheek. "you deserve it, dean. you deserve everything."

he shook his head, his smile soft. "i don't know what i did to deserve you."

you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "you're you. that's enough."

after a moment, you pulled back, reaching behind you for the second gift.

"there's one more thing," you said, your voice growing a little shaky.

dean frowned slightly, his brows furrowing. "what more could you possibly—"

you held out the pregnancy test, your hands trembling slightly.

"i'm pregnant, baby," you said softly, your eyes searching his face.

for a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find the right words. then a slow smile spread across his face, and he let out a choked laugh.

"you're serious?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, tears streaming down your face. "yeah. i'm serious."

he let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms and spinning you around. you squealed, clinging to him as he laughed, his joy infectious.

when he finally set you down, he cupped your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips.

"thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "thank you for… everything."

you smiled, resting your forehead against his. "happy birthday, my love."

that night, you celebrated with champagne — he drank one for you and himself — laughter, and the quiet promise of a future filled with love.

SPECIAL TAGS. @figthoughts @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @rafespreciosa @voidsuites . . . ☆

[loviatarsluv]

FRIENDS?

— ꜝ synopsis: sylus invited you to accompany him to a charity event at the linkon museum, where he had a surprise prepared for you - that surprise being a wanderer crystal that he donated using the names “sylus and his friend”. a gesture that would normally have your heart soaring - if only he’d used a different word to describe what you were to him.

— ꜝ pairing: sylus x f!reader (reader is intended to be MC, so they are described femininely and use feminine pronouns)

— ꜝ genre: fluff/angst/comfort

— ꜝ word count: 1.4k

— ꜝ tags/warnings: mc/reader (you) rightfully panicking over being called sylus’ “friend” during sylus’ touring in love event ch. 4 story, teeny tiny bit of angst, lot of comfort, no warnings, just sylus being the most wholesome green flag king that he is ♡ also I used his famous line from razor’s grip bc I thought it was fitting here hehe

— ꜝ author's note: I wrote this months ago during the touring in love event but just never got around to posting it because I just wasn’t sure if it was worth posting (*ﾉｪﾉ) but after reading it again and editing it a little I figured why not!! I also have so many other lads fics that I’ve been sitting on for a while that I may get around to posting soon, so there’s that!! anyways I love sylus sm he has my whole entire heart ok bye ♡

The air trapped within the confines of Sylus’ car is thick and stuffy, the silence palpable and rife with unsaid tension. He didn’t seem to mind it at all, which only served to fuel your ire. 

You brought your legs up to your chest, your arms crossed over them as you watched the world whizz past the passenger window as he sped through the night. There’s an aching in your chest that you wish you could ignore. 

It's one silly word. Why am I freaking out about it?

As if he’d heard your thoughts, you hear a soft chuckle huffed beside you. 

“What are you pouting about?” 

You don’t turn to him, unwilling to look at him for fear that it’ll only worsen the ache. 

“I’m not pouting.” You murmur under your breath, your fingers fiddling with the laces of your boots. Lie. 

Without even looking you can feel Sylus’ shit-eating grin on you, but you refuse to give in and look at him. No matter how much you savored every single crooked smile of his. 

“Speak up, sweetie. I can never hear you very well when you’re pouting.” He teases, one hand reaching over to poke at your side. 

“I’m not pouting!” Your voice raises, irritation evident in your tone. You quickly school yourself and relax your body that had quickly coiled up like a snake ready to strike. “I’m just… it’s been a long day. I’m tired.” 

“Hmph,” He grunts beside you, words on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t let go. The car goes silent once again as it races through the streets of Linkon, as your mind races through the overwhelming feelings that all spiraled after just one word.

⁺⊹♡◦₊⋄

Sylus tries to behave as normal as he walks you up to your apartment— opening your car door for you, helping you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you over the curb— things that he does as naturally as he breathes. He would’ve done them whether or not he knew you were upset with him, but he was fairly certain you were pissed at him, he just wasn’t sure why, so the extra measures couldn’t hurt.

He was carrying your purse and jacket for you as he always did, both draped over one shoulder as he tries to keep up with you and your irregularly hurried pace.

He opens the door for you, having memorized the key code by heart, then hangs your things up on the coat rack once you get inside, his heart aching at the fact that you hadn’t even seemed to want to say goodbye to him.

He watches as you quickly disappear into your dark apartment, not even bothering to turn on a light along the way, and he feels a tightness in his chest that he only ever feels when you’re hurt or upset about something. 

He considers giving you space, but he knows you— so he slowly follows behind you, allowing the door to shut with a soft click as he flips the light switch by the door. 

You’d flopped onto the couch, burying your face in the cushions and assorted plushies that you and Sylus had won from the claw machines (mostly you, Sylus was terrible at claw games) - you hadn’t even bothered to take your shoes off at the door.

He smiles softly at you, finding your childish behavior endearing, despite the fact that he was well aware that he was very clearly the cause of your tantrum.

“Kitten,” he says softly as he kneels down beside the couch, one hand stroking the back of your hair and pushing it across your back so it wouldn’t get in your face. 

You twist your face slightly to peek at him, your heart melting instantly at the sight of his crimson eyes soft and round and pleading for your attention. Ugh. 

“There she is,” he smiles warmly, his voice so tender you think you might burst. “What has your tail in a twist, hm?” 

Your brows furrow, your mind replaying it in your head over and over. 

The Wanderer crystal was donated with the name "Sylus and His Friend."

Friend. 

“Nothing.” You reply, huffing and flipping onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. 

You knew it was silly, and he likely didn’t mean anything by it— but it had been bothering you all day and you just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had bubbled up in your chest.

Was that all he saw you as? A friend? An ally? Surely you were more than that by now… besides, look at how he looks at you. 

“Your acting skills still need a bit of work, kitten. How about we watch some movies so you can take notes?” He smirks, leaning over you so that instead of the ceiling, you stare into his eyes, his breath warm across your rapidly reddening cheeks. 

“Ugh, shut up.” You groan, your hand reaching up to playfully push his face away, only for your wrist to get caught by a much larger hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases as he moves to sit beside you on the couch, adjusting so that your head is laid in his lap, his fingers gently caressing your face and your hair as he searches for a movie to watch. 

Your eyes flutter closed as his fingertips mindlessly trace the features of your face, as if he was memorizing them, mapping them out in case he ever lost his sight and wanted to recall your beauty by touch alone. 

He traces the bridge of your nose, the bow of your lips, the curve of your cheeks; his touch warm and comforting, almost allowing you to forget for a moment the war raging on in your mind. 

You open your eyes to watch him, his focus directed elsewhere, but a warm smile remains painted across his lips. The ache in your chest blooms a little more, and you could barely stand it. 

You huff, quickly sitting up as Sylus’ hand drops back down to his own lap, his face nearly twisting into a pout. 

Ugh! 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his tone gentle and worrisome, feeding the licking flames of the ache roaring angrily within your ribcage. 

You look at him, your chest rising and falling as your breathing picks up, your lungs fighting against the pain. “You can’t do that, Sylus.” 

Confusion washes over his features. 

“You can’t pet my hair and kiss my palm and call me baby and kitten one second, and then refer to me as your friend another!” You burst, regret filling you the second it left your lips. You close your eyes in shame, immediately realizing how silly it all was. 

One word. One stupid, little word. 

He looks as though he’s thinking for a moment, before finally, a knowing smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, a quiet chuckle following it soon after. 

“Oh, kitten… come here.” He reaches out, gently pulling you by your hands back into his lap, your legs draping across his thighs as he holds you against his chest. 

Long fingers thread through your hair, combing through it and scratching your scalp softly as you listen to his heartbeat— its pace had quickened from your outburst, and guilt began to creep in. 

“You are so much more to me than words could ever express. It was silly of me to even use one as lackluster as that one,” the rumbling in his chest as he speaks soothes you as it vibrates against your cheek, a perfect harmony with his now steady heartbeat. You relax into him, the tightly wound muscles in your body slowly relaxing. “You should know by now that I adore you. And there is no love purer than mine.” 

The flutters of a billion butterflies erupt in your chest and stomach. Your cheeks flare and you press your face against his chest to hide it, a smile threatening your lips as he chuckles at your bashfulness. 

“Stop hiding from me,” there’s a gut wrenching amount of mirth in his tone, you can barely stand it. You look up at him, your heart fighting to leap out of its confines and jump right into his open and waiting palm. “There’s that smile. I thought I’d lost it for a minute there.” 

“Yeah, well, you scared the shit out of me earlier,” you finally found your voice again, and that attitude that he adored so much. You playfully push against his chest. “Don’t ever pull something like that again, I mean it.” 

His smile is like the sun peeking out from behind heavy clouds on a stormy day— it’s rare to catch a glimpse of, so you bask in the blinding warmth of it, let it seep into your bones and settle into your soul, even amidst the dreariest of surrounds.  “Next time, I’ll be more apt with my word choice,” he pulls you against his chest again, resting his chin on the top of your head. “My love.”

⁺⊹♡◦₊⋄

other l&ds works ➛ bloop

[ohimsummer]

Uh- Gojo is a dom in canon. It’s show in the manga and anime and gege said he had a canon god complex.

“f-fu—, ah!” your boyfriend cries into a drool-soaked pillow, stuffing his face in it to hide from your endless giggling.

“is this too much for you, satoru?” your tone is evil and mischievous. it’s obvious you’re having wayyyy too much fun here. “just do what you tell me all the time and take it. take my dick like a good slut.”

at this point, he can only answer in grunts and moans, eyes clenched beneath furrowed brows as you pound deep into his ass. it’s sore and bruised, imprinted with layers of your red handprints and the occasional bite mark. maybe you went a little feral when he agreed to let you fuck his ass…whatever, it’s his fault for being so annoying about it,

“try not to go at a snail’s pace”, satoru teases, giving his ass a cheeky wiggle against your rubber appendage. “you don’t have to go too easy on me. i can take whatever you can give, pretty girl.”

you glide slippery lube up and down the the fake dick strapped to your pelvis. “you better, because i didn’t intend on it.”

the lack of reaction from you somewhat intrigues gojo, but he assumes you’re putting on a confident facade in front of him. just wait, once you actually get ready to put it in, you’ll be all hesitant and nervous and begging him to help poor little you.

“wait, ‘s too—,” a pathetic whimper leaves satoru’s plump lips, decorated with teeth indentations. “it’s too much, fuck, sl-slow down—“

“slow downnn??”, you feign utter shock, the hand pumping his leaking dick picking up pace. “satoru! don’t tell me the strongest can’t handle it? i thought you told me not to go at a snail’s pace?”

he huffs, using whatever energy he has left to direct glaring, teary blue eyes at you. “i-i did, but—“

“but what, sweetheart?” you spot the wobble of his pouty lips, entire face tinted a bright red hue. you’re pulling out all his own teases and tricks, all the mockery satoru makes you endure when it’s you getting fucked into the mattress.

“nothing.” he grunts it stubbornly into the pillow, facing away to keep whatever’s left of his pride.

“ohhh, so now it’s nothing?” his length twitches in your palm. “that’s so good to hear, baby. it’d be a shame if all that talk you were doing beforehand was just a bunch of lies.”

you can feel satoru throbbing in your hand again, and you know he’s close. another smack to his behind pushes a high-pitched moan from his lips.

“i wa-wanna cum.”, he says, turning slightly to look at you.

“oh?”, you thumb over the dribbling tip of his cock. “are you asking or are you telling me?”

“asking—!”, satoru whines. he fucks wildly into the palm of your hand. “please! please let me cum!”

this must be how he feels when he watches you writhing and squirming beneath him any other night. this towering sense of pride and accomplishment and smugness.

“since you beg so nicely,” you indulge him, “go on, then. make a mess for me, pretty boy.”

and he does. satoru gives a few more weak thrusts before letting out a deafening moan, and hot, thick ropes of his seed come shooting out—it’s a lot, enough to coat both your hand and his stomach and leak down to the sheets below.

“empty?”, you ask, and satoru gives a weak shake of his head. “good! now let’s go again.”

[ghostarii]

mr. welt yang who is strictly dominant—hard and collected when it comes to just about anything. he likes to be in control and have a general understanding, and that applies to your sex life. mr. welt yang who always takes care of his precious baby. he tells you “don’t worry that pretty little head of yours—i’ll take care of it.” and he makes you feel better. long, hard, bad day? that’s okay. welt’ll make it trivial, a futile matter that’s only a distant memory as he feasts on your cunt and worships your body.

mr. welt yang who will do anything you say. anything to make you happy. so when you tell him, eyes wide with stars gleaming in your pupils that you wanna make him feel good, who is he to say no? mr. welt yang who indulges in your sweet attempts to swallow his big cock down your little throat, mr. welt yang who praises you for taking all of his cum like the good princess you are, mr. welt yang who encourages you as you try to ride him. “it’s okay, take your time, ‘m not going anywhere . . .”, “that’s it, oh, fuck, you got it—so, so good, yeah?”, “make yourself feel good, ‘s okay.” he thumbs away your tears when you get frustrated and overstimulated because he’s just so big and he feels so good inside of you. you want to be good for him, to repay him for the millions of times he’s taken care of you, but he tells you that it doesn’t matter; you repay him everyday by being his good, perfect little princess, and there’s nothing more he could ask for.

mr. welt yang who loves his darling more than this world could conceive. there’s nothing in this world he would trade for getting to indulge in you, make you feel on top of the universe, and be reminded that you’re his, and he’s yours.

[seattlesellie]

could you make bff!ellie catching you masturbating and says something like ”i can help you if youd like” bc you couldnt climax when you do it yourself

caught ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

an: pretty self explanatory. nsfw, mdni please. part one of two!

yet another droplet of salty—sweet sweat fell on your top lip. you couldn’t get there, couldn’t you? no matter how hard you tried, no matter how hard you rutted against the fabric, the position your pillow was in— folded, to the side, with the tip; you just couldn’t do it. you couldn’t cum.

a pitiful whine fell from your lips. should an unfamiliar passerby chance upon the scene, they might have assumed that you were tormented, in agony.

the bittersweet twist in your stomach was truly just a tease. almost there, almost, in a fleeting moment— vanished into thin air.

would it be wrong to say that you looked absolutely pathetic? it probably wouldn’t be, it would be nothing but the truth. with your panties hung loose around your ankles, your toes curling inside of your soft white socks, your body feverishly oscillating back and forth, then sideways, tracing circles— and then just straight up humping, it was sad.

“oh— please, please!” you mewled, better yet, cried out.

perchance, you could get there if you pulled your erect nipples, if you pinched them just right, that tormenting tension would finally dissipate. you hastily took your pajama tank top off and threw it on the floor. you pulled on the swollen buds, twisted them slightly, only to elicit a shrill cry that escaped your lips.

“mmph— god!”

you were supposed to meet ellie at 4:30pm. or was it 4:15? 4:20? you wouldn’t know. the clock was ticking, and there you were, grinding yourself helplessly against your soft pillow. tick—tock.

it’s 4:13.

4:14:

ellie knocked on your apartment door. once, then twice, and finally she pressed the buzzer. she was starving, her mouth salivating, and the scent coming from the pizza box wasn’t helping in the slightest.

she buzzed it again, and to her dismay, no answer.

“ugh, cmon” she huffed, knocking forcefully again.

what were you doing? in the bathroom? showering? you must be busy somehow, with your earphones in, maybe?

you said 4:15pm. she wasn’t very forgetful, especially when it came to you.

biting down on her bottom lip, ellie remembered there’s a spare key conveniently tucked beneath the brown “welcome!” carpet. she knows this because you told her, when she walked you home, tipsy and giggling after a night out.

“right” she mumbled, balancing the large pizza box on her left hand. she bent down, and she was right. she remembered correctly— a spare key. as ellie swung open the door, she was greeted by an empty living room.

“hello?”

she paced around. maybe you were hiding underneath the kitchen table? pulling a prank on her? you goof.

“pizzas here…” she melodically chimed.

“and i'm… here too”

she pondered the possibility of someone having broken into your apartment and kidnapping you. could that be?

ugh, ellie. quit being so dramatic.

ellie placed the pizza box right on the kitchen counter, and began walking towards your room. maybe you were napping, that sounds like a much nicer thought. when the image of you cuddled up inside a fuzzy blanket popped into her mind, she chuckled. cute.

oh how terribly wrong she was.

you pressed against your pillow, causing the bed to emit two distinct squeaks.

ellie's head swiftly turned to the side, her steps growing closer and closer to your room. so you didn’t get kidnapped... you’re in there. jumping on the bed, perhaps?

as a high-pitched whimper escaped your lips, reaching her ears as if tethered by an invisible string, her heart sank. she was dangerously close to the wooden door now.

her breath caught in her throat. you were fucking somebody.

it was muffled, but the bed creaking and the whiney sob? her head was spinning in circles, palms itching and sweaty. not only did you completely forget about your plans, you were in there— letting someone fuck you. she didn’t even know you were seeing somebody. she didn’t even know you were doing that shit and that sweet, blissful moan? she dug crescent marks onto her palms as she clenched them tightly.

it was wrong. it was painfully wrong and creepy and perverted, but ellie had to see. she had to know who you were letting inside your bed, but she wasn’t about to interrupt. all she did, was twist the doorknob carefully, the door opening far enough for her to see, but still not enough for you to notice.

oh.

oh.

with your bare back on display, and your ass squished against the pillow— ellie felt like she was going to faint. your sweet, frustrated moans filled the room and ellie blinked so many times she was having a sensory overload.

this has to be a dream, she thought. one of her crazy ones, the only ones she doesn’t tell you about. her throat felt dry, and she had to swallow hard. ellie took a shaky breath in, and she nearly groaned. you were desperate, she swore she could see a sweet droplet of sweat flowing down your back.

ellie’s first instinct was shutting the door and leaving.

for the first time in her life, ellie didn’t listen to her instincts. she stood there, mouth agape, toes curling inside of her chucks.

“pleasepleaseplease, unggh—“ that little moan was so high pitched and sweet and ellie felt dizzy, faint, awestruck. she dug her trimmed fingernails right into her jeans covered thigh and pinched. this is a dream, ellie— wake up.

“oh god!”

wake up, ellie.

you got down on your elbows, and you dragged your aching clit all over the pillow. the bed squeaked again. she could see everything, the swollen button, your tight hole and your ass—

wake up, ellie.

“fuck” she huffed, and you still couldn’t hear a thing, too busy and too in trance, poorly trying to get yourself off.

when you humped the pillow again— ellie’s own clit pumped. like a faint heartbeat, she felt a dull ache growing and growing.

she stood there; dizzy, disgusting, turned on, like a peeping tom.

she should leave. she has to leave. why can’t she leave? her feet are glued to the floor and she can’t walk, paralyzed.

she could walk out of here and pretend it never happened. she could go home, rub one out, rub it again till it hurts and then see you the next day. this could be normal, she could be normal about this, can’t she?

“fuck!” you gave up. you weren’t getting there, this wasn’t happening today. you weren’t going to cum and you had to deal with it. slowly, you steadied your breath and grabbed your phone. it was 16:24, where is she? you decided to text her.

“when are u coming over? i’m starving”

ellie’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she nearly choked. there she was, frozen, staring.

thankfully, you didn’t hear it. in fact, you couldn’t hear anything— your ears were still pumping.

ellie swiftly took her phone out of her pocket and noticed her hands were shaking, it nearly slipped out of her grip. she shouldn’t answer. she should pretend that she had forgotten, she was napping, at the gym, working on something, god knows what. she shouldn’t answer.

but she did.

“give me 20 minutes, was at the gym”

you chuckled, and when you went to scratch your chin with your shoulder, ellie thought you were turning around and she nearly collapsed.

“lol u renewed your membership?”

oh shit. she cancelled it last month. her jeans felt too tight and her face was on fire and now she had to lie, again.

“yeah”

even as she typed— she couldn’t look away. your ass was on full display and it was something she had to burn into her memory. she would never see you like this ever again.

“i don’t believe you”

oh fuck.

“send proof ellie… need to know ur not just lying and hanging out with toxic stacy again”

is it possible that she completely forgot who you were talking about? was she that delirious?

“omg wrong name lol 🩷 i meant samantha”

oh, her.

is samantha’s pussy this pretty?

oh, she’s sick.

you giggled and adjusted yourself on the pillow again. when you laid completely down, ellie’s eyes rolled back.

“i’m at the gym… not lying, weirdo”

you sighed, and ellie heard it. the fact that she could hear every single one of your reactions to her texts made her cringe but it also made her feel something she’s never felt before.

“send a gym selfie then”

you weren’t intentionally flirting. it was purely innocent on your part, just that. you needed to know she wasn’t lying. why did her stomach flip?

she knew she had to have one. she knew she had to have at least one picture of her at the gym. she must have sent something back then, maybe to cat. cat loved her blurry gym pictures, the ones she sent her with the bottom of her tank-top in between her teeth and her toned abs on full display. she found it— after two whole minutes of aimless searching and scrolling. just what she thought, her abs, slightly sweaty and glistening, her thin happy trail, and her boxers peaking out from her sweats. she sent it so fast and she didn’t even think—

you stared at your screen. fully stared. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, why did she… that picture was… suggestive. your best friend is a weirdo and she’s also making your tummy feel like it’s being swarmed by angry bees.

“i believe u now :) see you in 20!”

ellie felt like punching herself in the face, but before she did, before she closed the door and got the hell out of there— you did something that was so unfathomable, she nearly went cross eyed. with ellie’s picture flashing on your phone, you began grinding again. the moan that fell from your lips was guttural, ravenous.

this wouldn’t even be the first time, wouldn’t it? getting off to the thought of your best friend?

this time, when the pillow met your clit again, you were wet and slimy and you seamlessly glided onto the plush fabric. you knew, deep down, that you could get there this time. if you were looking at her, at her sculpted abs with her shirt in her mouth you could actually cum. you didn't even bother thinking about it, about how wrong it is. she would never know, so what's the big deal?

this time— ellie has to wake herself up somehow. this was the sign, the only one that helped her make sure she knew that she was absolutely dreaming.

if this was, in fact, a dream— ellie would coo at you. she would walk over, ever so slowly, lift you up, help you get off of the pillow, and hold your hand. "poor thing, need my help?" when you'd nod, shed guide your body up and down and teach you just the right moves. shed take you by the waist and help you slide, suck on your nipples and look at you. occasionally— she would stop on her nibbling to mutter "all you needed to do was ask me, pretty girl"

but this isn't a dream. ellie knows this isn't a dream because she checked the time on her phone and a minute had passed and she knows it doesn't work like that in the dream realm.

would it be wrong if she slipped her hands right into her pants?

"please, ellie"

you moaned her name like you were ashamed. like you knew she was right there and she could hear you. what would you do if she was?

when ellie heard the whine of her name slip out of your mouth, her phone dropped down to the floor and hit it with a thud. for ellie, it sounded louder than a brick.

you turned around fast, you thought a vase had fallen. when you caught her gaze, because ellie couldn't. fucking. move— you weren't embarrassed. you were too mortified to be embarrassed, you screeched and you didn't speak. neither did ellie.

your lips were trembling and her hands were sweating profusely. you've never seen her look like this, she's never seen you look like this. she opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but she didn't. she stood, frozen.

you don't know when you managed to grab the blanket and wrap it around your body but you did.

she opened up her mouth again, but only a soft "ah" noise escaped from it.

"when d—did you..."

"just now" she lied.

"and you stood there f—for..." you stuttered. now, the embarrassment finally hit.

"i saw" ellie managed to speak, somehow.

she saw?

"w—what?

"i saw"

what did she see? your heart was beating fast. you’ve never felt this vulnerable, this exposed. what did she see?

you couldn’t speak. you wouldn’t dare. embarrassed, not able to make any eye contact with the green eyed girl, you stared at the floor.

“i think…” she stepped closer to you, and she kept her gaze on the floor as well.

“i can…”

another step. closer now, dangerously so.

your entire body trembled.

she looked up at you, finally.

“help”

[sereneisstillhere]

What if...

Ai Hoshino is CatNap x Fem!Reader's daughter?

Like, just imagine it. Fem!Reader have white hair and same eyes as Ai's, and experiment number 1662, while CatNap aka Theodore Grambell has the same hair as Ai but ash-black eyes? He's experiment 1188, and 2 years older than Fem!Reader.

The reason Ai's purple hair got a bit pink streaks is because Fem!Reader's white hair influence, making some strands of their daughter's hair to turn lilac to pinkish. And Ayumi Hoshino, Ai's canon mother, is just a woman who's baby is dead and replaced with CatNap's and his wife's because they are going to die? Maybe they escaped Prototype but had to save the world and sacrifice themselves, but giving the baby to human world to ensure their legacy.

Humanoid experiments, that's why they can have babies. Also, Theo was 7 when he got turned to CatNap, and following the timeline, he should be around his 20s, maybe 22. Fem!Reader's bigger body form is that of fox, explaining why Ai has such a captivating beauty.

Hikaru is DogDay's and Fem!Reader's (other self) son, making Ruby and Aqua pure humanoid experiments, thus explains the star eyes they have. Hikaru won't just abandoned Ai, I headcanon him refusing Airi Himekawa's advances and grape (without 'g'), and instead staying with Ai and raise their babies.

Father and mother :

Daughter :

(Vid of mine)

Just imagine it!!

What do you think?

@soundwave-is-far-superior

@andauserene

[sorcerous-caress]

Drabbles 3.5

♡ Characters

[part one] [part two here]

Shadowheart

Early Access mean queen

Being a half-elf

Minthara

Showing affection to her children

Flowers

College Counselor

College Counselor 2

Gale

Magical artifacts feeding kink

Tom&Jerry Gale pt.1

Tom&Jerry Gale pt.2

Tom&Jerry Gale pt.3

Wyll

With an oath-breaker brutal gf

Calling him a monster

Girl dad

Ballroom dancing

Patron Wyll to Warlock reader

Attempting to help reader break their pact

With a warlock GOO reader

Icarus and his father

Cumming too quickly in bed

Meme 1

Zrell

Finally having you

Arnell hollowleaf (Shadowheart's dad)

Sitting on his lap as he reads you a book on elves

Astarion

Lesser god of life Durge

Gnome Tav meme

Cat meme

Lae'zel

With a bpd tav

Sword and pen

Overarchiver

Rolan

Drinking buddies bully

Lorroakan

Character study

History with you

Lorin

Confession

Ghustil Stornugoss

Medical play

Ulder Ravengard

His office desk

Geraldus

Ceremony

Cazador

Meme

History study and human kink

Alfira

Interested in you

Character study

Karniss

Beautiful

Several characters

Niche fetishes

Raising kids

Any% whore SR

With a sick Tav

gävle goat

Cumming too quickly

Obsessed with eating you out

Psychiatrist and patient

"Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?"

Love and the dead three

Memes

Gith and being touch starved

Tadpole air dropping songs

Poly

Halsin human kink

The Prince and the star

Song of Baldurian

You're all wrong - meme

Asking them to buy you pads meme

Books

[dollyfetti]

"can you just try?" your boyfriend gruffs, his tone gentle as he folds his arms. sitting across from you at a quiet cafe, his fingers lightly caress the back of your hand, sending a flutter through your chest. he's asking you— again— to order for yourself, just this once. he promised, "it'll feel good, trust me," but the thought of speaking up sends a shiver down your spine. you can't even remember the last time you asked for something from anyone.

"yeah, but it's their job to serve you..." he grunted with a tiny chuckle when you'd told him this the last time.

"i know, but i still feel bad..!" you muttered, twisting the hem of your maxi skirt around your fingers. he had grinned, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and let it go.

until now, of course.

he remembers when you were rambling to him one night, frustrated with how you could never speak up for yourself in any situation. you'd felt like a loser. (you are, but he refrained from saying so at the moment hehe)

"just try." he repeats, offering a rare, almost tender smile. you nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips in response. the waitress comes back, notepad in hand as she asks for your orders, starting with your boyfriend.

"mapu tofu— please." he says, closing his menu with a small nod as she takes it from him.

she smiles, turning her attention to you. your gaze drops back to the menu, but it feels like you’re studying it for the first time. “what would you like?” she hums.

"umm," you mumble breathily. you blink at the many food choices, even though you already know what you want.

"i'll have the.. kimbap, please." you speak lowly, your voice quiet and tentative. your hands cling to the fabric of your skirt, shoulders slightly hunched as you unintentionally try to make yourself smaller.

the waitress leans in slightly, smiling sweetly. "i'm sorry, what was that?"

you feel them both watching you and shrivel in your seat. you inhale sharply, looking up to meet the waitress's gaze before quickly looking back down. "kimbap." you repeat, your voice a little steadier now, though your nerves still tangle in your chest.

she nods, jotting it down before walking away, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you can't help but feel a little proud of yourself.

"jesus christ, felt like i was catching your introvertness." your boyfriend teases.

"shut up," you giggle, sliding your drink towards you.

"wasn't so bad, right?"

you shake your head, taking a sip of your drink as if it might help calm your racing heart.

"told ya so." he smirks, nudging your foot with his under the table

bakugou, aizawa, toji, zuko, eren, kuroo, + your favs !

[junicult]

I love how you write harvey sm!!! You had me swooning with every words !! So sweet, short, and straight to the point but very flavorful and entertaining! i'm so happy i came across your blog !

I have a prompt that u can feel free to use!

What do you think Harvey is like when he & the farmer just got married? For example, is he very timid that he couldn't sleep when next to the farmer? Is he very hesitant to hold them? Or other things u think/headcanon? Would love to read your thoughts! Thank you so much for your time !!<3

!! harvey as your new husband

contains ; domestic fluff. another post of me rambling lol. entirely sfw! gn!farmer / gender is never implied. short drabble.

note ; i’m in a harvey brainrot rn that every time i try to sit down to write for the other bachelors, i just end up staring at my screen doing nothing 😓

when you were only dating, it wasn’t rare for harvey to come over while you were working after he found some time of his own.

even once, after you invited him over and sighed about how dirty you felt the cottage was since you hardly had time to clean—he became accustomed to do so just for you.

bringing over his own cleaning supplies just to sweep the dust, help with laundry, clean your kitchen and make dinner for you.

and he didn’t even mind doing all of it, just to help you lift the weight of your chores.

so after that one time, and you came home to see a squeaky clean home, and your excellent boyfriend after a particularly exhausting day—you could’ve cried.

not to mention, he goes the great mile. those large yellow gloves over his hands, non-slip shoes and a hardware apron over his clothes so he wouldn’t get himself dirty.

some may say it’s a bit dramatic, but he says prepared.

anyways, it became a routine he was fond of doing.

harvey came over a lot. to the point where his own house didn’t really feel like home anymore.

he hated those nights when he couldn’t come over, forced to sleep in his own bed without you by his side. it would take him longer to fall asleep if he couldn’t feel you next to him. he probably had to hug a pillow just to feel something lol.

so when you got married, it’s safe to say he was ecstatic to be moving out of his lonely apartment. especially when you made time to come help him, packing stuff in boxes.

it really made him realize how life changing it is. to see you labeling each box, sorting through his cds and tapes while talking about your future together.

“i think these would look nice in our living room, i could move my bookshelf over and we could squeeze this in…” you ramble on, face full of concentration.

it made his heart gush, even just hearing you call it our living room.

when you’d “ooo” and “aaa” at items of his you looked forward to decorating the house with, and “uhh” at the ones you didn’t. he couldn’t possibly be upset, if anything, he’d laugh at your honesty. there’s nothing that’d make him upset right now.

so when you were finally married, you had to work but he spent the majority of the day squeezing his stuff into the house like you both planned, it still felt right.

you didn’t have to be beside him, helping him unbox for him to be happy. he found everything seemed to fit in place.

settling in didn’t feel as much of a task as you both thought it’d be. there was always a cloud of sadness when he’d have to leave, so finally that experience was tarnished after the knot was tied.

there’s no leaving anymore, because he always comes right back.

at this point, his nerves being around you were fizzled, but of course he still got butterflies when he’d see you.

any moment he was intimate with you still made him feel much younger with the way his heart would pound and his palms would grow sweaty. even if you were just leaning in to kiss him.

so the first night you two were living together as a married couple—i don’t think he’d be so nervous.

or at least, not nervous in a bad way.

“which side of the bed should i sleep on?”

“harvey, we’ve slept together before. this isn’t new.” you tease.

“well we’ve never slept together as a married couple who lives in the same house. this is the start to the rest of our lives, i want to make sure we’re making the right decision,” and after he realizes what he implied, he’s widening his eyes and shaking his head, “no! not like that! as in, what if i sleep on the right side, but i sleep on my right side so my back is always turned to you—“

“harvey, honey…i’m not going to be mad at you if i wake up and you’re not facing me.” you giggle.

he really knows how to overthink everything.

but once you’re finally tucked in bed together (you on the right, him on the left) i don’t think he’ll overthink at this point.

by now, you’re both so in love that he doesn’t second guess reaching over to hold you anymore. he doesn’t need to rethink all of that.

when you latch onto him, pressing your face into his chest and wrapping your arms around him—he’s bound to get butterflies. you may even hear his heart beat a little quicker. but he’s not shy to give you the same treatment.

if he could, he’d hold you all day. he never wants to let go.

[snowluvvie]

hiii may i pls req a strawberry shortcake with clark kent?

p.s. love ur blog<3

— with love from @preyingfaes / @fae-of-prey (sorry my main is shadow banned so i can only send messages on anon)

₊˚⊹ ♡ . Clark invented being gentlemanly and all-American, Valentine’s Day is a time for him to shine that's second to only your anniversary and Fourth of July ( shirtless at the grill, you get it. ) the two of you are so gross on Valentine’s Day. he's bringing you breakfast in bed and you're eating all giddy-like, stopping to kiss in between bites and he's holding your legs between his while you eat, like he can't stand to stop touching you, even for a moment. while you're out on your date during the day, you run into one of Smallville's other couples, and the girl is shooting a sidelong look at her boyfriend when she sees the way Clark treats you. sure, it's normal for him to do everything for you—every door opened, jar opened, heavy object carried—it's days like this that just emphasize it and make you stare at him in wide-eyed wonder, trying to figure out how he ended up this way. ( lots of boys are raised on farms, and they're not all Clark Kents. ) when he's fucking you on the barn couch that night, and you're digging your fingernails into his shoulders like he's gonna run away, he's babbling away in your ear, waxing poetic between moans and whimpers about how much he loves you. even when you're falling asleep that night—you're more than tuckered out after that—he's keeping himself awake mumbling to you about "all the rest of our Valentine's Days." next year, and the year after, and the year you get married, and when you have your own house, and when you have kids. what can he say? he's a forward thinking guy—you're perfectly happy to just live in this day, though

[allovertheplace-writing]

Hello!! I was wondering if you could do some Shinjiro(persona 3) fluff headcanons with gn!reader who has really warm hands compared to his? I read somewhere that his body can't regulate his body temp so he's rlly cold and i think it'd be a fun imagine, it's completely fine if you don't want to do this request for any reason!! i hope you have wonderful day ＼(≧▽≦)／

Persona

Character(s): Shinjiro Aragaki

Type: Headcanon

Genre: Fluff

Description: Palm to palm, fingers linked. Your hand in mine as much as mine is in yours. Connected without distance and pretenses left in favor of this.

Notes / Warnings : Yukari Mentioned, Fuuka Mentioned, Junpei Mentioned, Akihiko Mentioned, Could be Platonic or Romantic(I Don't Go Into Much), Reader Has a Part-Time Job(Briefly Mentioned)

omg yes- to be honest, i have two ideas for this. One of them is more heavily romantic, but the other could be taken either way lsdbdk i'm gonna do the second one me thinks

thank you for requesting!! i hope you enjoy <33

"Y'know...you always wear a lot, even in summer." Yukari had pointed out once before shrugging and brushing it off, not wishing to pry. It was...true. He never really seemed to get overly hot and more so seemed to want to bundle-up further.

It wasn't often that his hands were available because of that. Always in his pockets; always kept busy with something. Never free. Forever out of reach—usually.

Whenever he was in the kitchen, sometimes he'd idle whilst making something. His fingers—typically—lightly drum on the counter or his hands just barely push things out of the workspace with little purpose.

You had found him doing just that one night after returning from your part-time job. He was slightly leaned forward, left hand bearing his weight atop the counter and his right hand mindlessly picking up and placing down the flour bag.

He must have felt your presence, though, as he looked over his shoulder at you once you stepped into the kitchen. "You-" With a furrowed brow, he appears to get embarrassed before tearing his eyes away. "What're you doing here?" There's a rush to his words, voice a bit terse.

It's a little amusing to see someone like him so embarrassed about getting caught cooking. You practically feel the mirth that subtly fills your expression. Although, it is more affectionate than anything else.

You don't answer his question, instead asking what he's making. It seems to make him less guarded, perhaps because you didn't tease him or make a big deal out of it. Though he still responds a bit reluctantly. Cookies.

"Oh, wasn't Fuuka trying to make some?" A short sigh leaves him, "..she kept burning them. Mixing up the sugar and salt." It appears she couldn't stay around for long though, likely had other responsibilities. You give him a small hum to let him know you heard. He looked at you again after a moment, searching a little as if he had expected something from you—perhaps a different response? Maybe he thought you'd say something like Yukari. "You haven't been bullying her, have you?" Though that was definitely more so reserved for Junpei than anyone else.

"When they're done, we should get everyone to come eat them." Getting together, even if just for cookies, would be wonderful. That was your thought process, at least. He didn't respond for a few moments too long though, perhaps not liking the idea. But eventually he let out a gruff reply. It was almost like it was bordering a grumble. "..you can do that." You raise your brows and look at him directly, "You won't?"

"I didn't say that." Not a denial, but...

"..so you will?" You could tell you were pushing him a little, but teasing him was hard to withhold from.

"...I didn't say that either."

It pulled a small laugh from you, affectionate mirth gracing the entirety of your face this time. As intimidating as he is, he can be rather cute.

Drifting closer, you come to rest against the counter's edge, "I'll let Fuuka know you made them and then she can offer them to everyone. I know she'd want to share." He doesn't look at you, head slightly turned away like he was upset. With a small tilt of your head, you try to peer at his face a tiny bit. And although you can't see his expression, you can see the subtle flush that settles upon his cheek and spreads to the tip of his ear. Yeah, he's cute.

His lack of response, mixed with his reaction, lets you know that he agrees with what you proposed, albeit rather flusteredly. You decide to change the subject. For his sake.

"You know, this is the first time I've seen you without your jacket." It's a simple observation. He's covered head to toe with only his face visible more often than not so seeing him without a key piece of his attire was like seeing a polar bear in the street. Kind of.

"Yeah and what about it?" With a slight shrug, you remain nonchalant about it despite his defensive response. After all, there wasn't any bite behind it. "It's like a signature piece to the package that is you." You spoke with a slight, exaggerated, accent, pushing some energy into the conversation. "Are you trying to be strange?" Despite the way his words could've been insulting, he said it in a way that showed his affection. "Is it strange if it's true?" There's a lift to your tone, a teasing tinge to it to let him know you were being light-hearted and returning his affection.

"..I guess not." Pulling back from the counter and the bag of flour, he grabs an oven mitt and opens the oven a little bit. You lean a bit to the side, peeking inside with him. The cookies were starting to rise, a light sheen along them and the chocolate chips melting a bit along the edges. They were looking yummy, that's for sure. When he closes it, you adjust yourself so you aren't leaning anymore. "Another twenty minutes?" He shrugs, "Give or take some."

So there was time. A pause settles between you two as you think about what to do: continue the conversation or try and indulge that little voice. You decide the former, despite any anxieties. "..hey, can I see your hands?" It was just as he had been reaching for the flour again, making him freeze for a second. When he turned to you with a furrowed brow and overall disgruntled look, you elaborate a tiny bit. "Just like this, that's all." Raising one of your hands, you hold it up like you would for a high five. Palm flat and fingers straight.

You for sure thought he'd refuse, especially given his initial expression, but he hesitantly lifted his hand in alignment to yours. Perhaps he was just humoring you, but it was clear this wasn't something he disliked. Likely just something he wasn't used to.

With a subtle movement, the tips of your fingers lightly brush his as you ease your palm to just barely rest against his. "You're cold." He looks at your hand pressed against his for only a small moment before glancing away from them. "...you're warm." After keeping away for so long, he forgot how another's warm felt like. Though, it was different from the times him and Akihiko had to share a blanket as kids. This warmth was somehow...warmer. In a pleasant way.

There's a slight shift of your fingers as you bring them a bit out of alignment before pausing, glancing up at him. You see him bring his own eyes back to your hands, watching what you do. But he doesn't pull away. Carefully, you slowly slide your fingers between the tops of his and leave them there in a loose entwinement.

He shifts a little bit, yet remains. If anything, his fingers curl a tiny bit in to return your gesture—lightly holding your fingers like you do his. "This is weird." You give short, sudden laugh, having not expected that, "I guess it is. But it's not bad, right..?"

There's nothing for a moment, his eyes drifting off to the side.

"..yeah."

As much as it scared him, as much of a bad idea as it was in his mind, he wanted this. He wanted to be close to someone again, to be part of the group despite all the distance he constantly puts between himself and everyone else.

"Yeah, it's not bad."