#Captain has to kick him to bed

[wolf-n-bones]

felt like drawing Russell~ <3

[sysig]

Dorks

Starting with ZEX nad DAX! I moved them in by themselves first and had them fall in love and, forgot, to take any screenshots of it lol oops. They are In Love, but not committed :) I’m also really silly-pleased with how they turned out haha, using Zarla’s VUX retextures as well as these red horns and Namekian antennae haha - anything to make them just a little more alien!

Old man yaoi

Moved the Captain in and he immediately rolled a Want to flirt with ZEX lol. You’re so judgey Captain not like I intentionally made it so he and ZEX would be attracted to each other but not so much him and DAX cough

ZEX was also immediately enamoured lol, who would’ve guessed

Jinx! I ended up getting the Jealousy-negation potion because I want them all to get along ♥

Really. Right in front of DAX’s fear of getting burgled >:0

The Captain is always the little spoon, it’s the rules

He’s always the one sitting on others! It’s the rules!

DAX caught them lol, he even walked away doing the “crazy” hand sign haha, I love the two of them looking at him as he goes hehe ♪

I was curious and there actually is a difference in what ZEX and the Captain are doing - ZEX is cuddling, the Captain is sitting (on ZEX lol)

These animations I swear ♥ The shy little duck the Captain does after a peck, so cute

Okay fine he can be the big spoon sometimes

Poor DAX got kicked out of bed haha

You’re fine writing in your diary like that? Haven’t you noticed the uh

I designed this house with infidelities in mind lol, just look behind you Captain! No there’s a wall in the way! Haha

[yeyinde]

winter soldier au with John Price who was held in a gulag for three years and comes home wrong. comes back snarling and furious and threatening to rip apart the goddamn world if they don't give him what belongs to him, what's rightfully his, if they don't give him back his fucking wife, right this second—

the only problem is: John's ex-wife remarried. she's halfway around the world, and Laswell knows John enough to immediately squash that idea right away. but if not her, then who?

and then you walk into the room—a newly hired secretary that John has met less than a handful of times; a pencil pusher barely even a blip on the radar—but he pounces. snatches you up before any of them can react, tucking your bemused face into his chest, cradling you tight; possessively clutching at you as Kyle tries, and fails, to calm him down.

"you don't know her, sir. just let the girl go—"

it's met with a nasty snarl. all gleaming, bloodied teeth. a stranger in a familiar shape as John drags you further away from them. "this is my goddamn wife."

his declaration is met with shock. you're definitely not his wife. you barely know him much outside of a several, threadbare exchanges where he breathed down your neck about filing the wrong reports, and the cluttered mess of your desk ("a goddamn eyesore—"). you're not even friends. and in all honesty, you didn't even think he liked you that much. so. wife?

but he's beyond reason. his head a mangled, trenched mess of artillery fire and Makarov's torture. three years, Kate breathes. three whole years.

you can tell, almost immediately, by the look on her face that this—that you—will become a necessary loss in the grand scheme of things. and when John lets her close enough to whisper into your ear (having somehow convinced him that he can just walk out of here with you, his fucking wife, leaving for the marital home (and bed) that he demands from them for this brief stalemate)—she hurriedly tells you about their plot. this high risk, no reward scenario of playing along. not that you have much of a choice.

keeping John Price as close to them as possible was worth more than something as flimsy, as malleable as your agency, your autonomy. and if the way to do it was to let a brainwashed man play house with you, then so be it.

she, at the very least, offers a grim sort of smile even though you can see her working out the mechanics of it all as she makes promises on your behalf. things like, yes, John, you can leave with your wife. she missed you so much, John. she's so happy you're home.

"we kept your wife safe for you, John—" no one seems to react to the violent way Johnny has to be dragged out of the room by Ghost, kicking and screaming at the injustice of it all because th' captain wouldnae do this! don't do this t'him!

and John—if there's any part of that man still inside him, he doesn't let an inch of it show—just nods, lip pulling up into a snarl as he bullies you closer to his chest, and growls about finally getting you home.

"I'll keep you with me," he rasps, blunt fingers spreading wide over the fill of your body. a mad, twisted gleam of possessiveness, ownership, burning in bruised blue as he familiarises himself with this body he claimed as his. "right where you belong, wife."

(the word comes out in a bite. snaps around you and sounds just like mine.)

[lokisgoodgirl]

Clean [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After a difficult mission, your ex Loki has a revelation. (w/c 1.6k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mild angst. Pining. Feelings. Smuttish. Loki x Fem Reader. A/N: I'm planning some filthy stuff soon - but for now, we're still in angsty romance era. 😇

Loki sat hunched with his back against the bathroom wall, head in his hands. Blood was smeared over the white shirt: his own and not his own. It was ripped in several places, sleeves folded up to the elbows.

“It wasn’t locked,” you said stiffly, fingers tightening around the knob. “Would it have mattered? I expect you’re quite desperate to see me like this.” He tilted his head, voice sharp, eyes tired. “Don’t you wish to capture the scene on your device? Surely Rogers would relish a commemoration of my ineptitude.”

Loki had made a scene as the team exited the Quinjet, throwing his ruined suit jacket off the roof of Stark Tower and kicking a fire bucket for good measure. His voice was choked with anger.

“Let me be,” he’d roared after Steve shouted something about medical in his direction. The Captain had turned to the rest of you with a defeated shrug, but your eyes hadn't left Loki's back as he waged a path though the doors and they slammed behind him in a flash of green.

Loki had taken the worst of the heat from the Hydra agents working undercover in downtown Chicago. He’d been cornered by three of them, and soon a capture order had turned into a triple kill—but not before taking some punishment for his efforts.

‘I tried to subdue them humanely,’ Loki had muttered afterwards, inspecting a deep gash on his forehead in the Quinjet’s sheen. ‘They wouldn’t listen to reason.’ ‘How hard did you try?’ Steve had sniped. ‘We’re in a pickle now, thanks Laufeyson. A real pickle indeed. Typical.’ To that, Loki had said nothing. He’d refused all clean-up on the way home, sitting in a fury-riddled silence that tainted the re-circulated air.

You took a step over the bathroom’s boundary, and then shrank back.

Relations between you had been frosty since you’d gone your separate ways: to this day you weren’t quite sure what had happened. One day, everything was perfect. The next—it was over. You’d chalked it up to the god settling in to life on Earth; him realising you weren’t the only person on the planet who thought the sun shone from his perfectly formed arse…but that had never felt right. Despite snooping, you’d never got a whiff of him shagging anyone else. Based on your experience with Loki, that was especially odd.

You took a deep breath, crossing the floor and extending a hand. To your surprise, he took it and heaved himself up. Fuck, you’d forgotten how heavy he was; how his forearms bulged when they flexed, how his body felt pressing down on yours as he railed you gently on the bed you’d shared.

Ok, maybe not that last one. You cleared your throat, pulling your hand back. Loki sighed, eyes cast to the floor.

“I’m filthy,” he said with an air of disgust, reflexively running a hand across his waist. Pain rippled across his features.

“You’re hurt, you need to go to—” “I’m quite well.” “Loki,” you warned. His lashes fluttered up, nailing his gaze to yours. An eyebrow cocked. Feeling your cheeks heat, you turned and switched on the shower. “Steve shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier,” you said, trying to keep the flurry of nerves from your voice. “You did what you had to do—they’d have killed you.” “Please,” Loki snorted. “They would not have killed me. I’m offended that you would even imply it.” You glanced over your shoulder. Even in his dishevelled state, he was giving every inch the haughty, regal snob that you’d fallen desperately in love with. And that was the problem, wasn't it? It was the only version of him you'd ever been granted.

“Then why are you in such a state?” Loki’s brow furrowed. “A what?” “Why are you upset?” “I’m not upset.” “You were literally sitting on the floor with your head in your hands.” “It’s an Asgardian victory custom.” “Loki…”

His jaw clenched as you leant against the sink and his keen eyes darted over your face. “I…tried not to kill them,” he said through gritted teeth. It was the same voice he’d used when the two of you had ‘the conversation’—you hadn’t heard it since. An icy finger trailed down your spine at the bitterness in his voice as he said, “I failed.”

Understanding blossomed through your mind. You remembered a cold winter’s night, Loki curled naked against your back, confessing his deepest secret while he thought you’d slept. I’m afraid I’ll never be good, he’d whispered in the dark; that I’ll always be stained with the curse of my past.

You realised the mask of stoicism had slipped from your face at the exact moment Loki’s expression shifted. His gaze broke, returning to the floor. “You should leave,” he said. “You’re not safe with me.” The echo of the last time you’d been alone together—the same words. Does he remember?

Pushing off the sink, you shuffled towards him, cupping his forearm. The grit of dried blood rubbed beneath your fingertips as you squeezed. “You can’t think that. It’s been years…”

Suddenly Loki’s hands ran up your cheeks, thumbs pressing into your jaw as your back met the wall. He’d pinned you under the shower, speckles of water hitting off his shoulder and splattering your skin. His eyes searched yours: all fire, and destiny.

“I’ll never be free,” he said. His gaze dropped to your lips and back to your eyes. “I’ll never be clean.”

You caressed the well-trodden path his buttons made up the front of his shirt. Still beautifully tailored despite the dirt, and sweat, and blood. “Not with that attitude,” you said, and his brows peaked. “Everyone knows your history, Loki. We need you here. We want you here.” “And you?”

The shower seemed very loud all of a sudden. Especially me. “You really have to ask?” You brushed the sides of his shirt apart and Loki swallowed, his eyes closing a heartbeat too long as your fingers lingered on the bruise forming over the flat of his abdomen. “Loki…” you chided, tracing the blossom of indigo across his alabaster skin. “Steve was right, you should be in medical.” He snorted, hands falling by his sides. “If you’d come five minutes later, it would have been gone.” Fat droplets of water roll over the tips of his cheekbones, streaks of pale skin beneath the dust and dirt of the mission. You’ve never seen him like this. He never let you see anything other than the perfect prince; the unshakeable god. “Doesn’t it hurt?” You circled higher on his chest, appreciating the taut skin firm beneath your own. You'd swear you could see the thrum of his heartbeat.

“Always,” he said sadly, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t talking about the injuries. God, I miss this. I miss him. Now, finally, you could admit it to yourself. The weight of the confession slid from your body, circling the drain as Loki shivered, and the dark pools of his pupils spread wider.

Cautiously, your hands ran up his chest, over his shoulders, peeling the soaking shirt from his back and down his arms. It fell with a slop to the shower floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a faint narrow of his eyes. You licked your lips, unsure of what how to answer. What are you doing? But it was now or never. This kind of vulnerability was a particularly rare ship to dock in Loki’s harbour.

Running your palms up his neck, he groaned softly as they slid up the sharp prow of his jawline, up the bladed cheekbones and into the slick of his sodden hair. He closed his eyes, a low sigh rattling his chest. For a moment, there was only the patter of water against porcelain.

“Showing you how to be clean again,” you whispered before your lips fastened to his. Loki’s eyes shot open, one hand slamming to the tiles behind your shoulder to steady himself as you pulled away. Your heart thumped between your ribs.

Oh god, he doesn’t want it. You’ve fucked it up. Memories of the longing glances you’d seen painted on his face across the room, the brush of his touch on your arm which lasted a second too long, the anger simmering beneath his skin when he thought you’d moved on. It had all been in your head. The thought was almost too much to bear.

“Why did you stop?”

Breath caught in your throat as his words soaked through the rising steam; low and smooth. The response fell from your mouth in breathless stages, hyper-focused on the shirt plastered to his skin. “I didn’t think you wanted it, I’m sorry I—” A soft, disbelieving chuckle rumbled in his throat before he said, “How could I not want you?” Your eyes rose.

The god was fully soaked now; hair plastered to his neck like ink, shirt and trousers moulded to the sinews and meat of his body like a second skin. The last traces of dirt from his skin were gone, and the water around your feet ran clear. You pulled the back of his neck towards you.

Loki’s kiss was an eruption of desire, of pain, of need; his palm slipping on the tile behind your head before switching to your waist. It worked over your hip, your breasts, your ass, never staying in one place, never lingering too long. “Gods, I missed you, I've missed you,” he murmured wet against your cheek. You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling the sodden top over your head. “So soon?” A soft smile curled at his mouth. “We’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we?”

In answer, Loki ran a finger from the hollow of your neck between your breasts. A chill skated across your skin as your trousers dissolved— his too. He pressed his body to yours, warm against the sharp sting of the tiles. Water pooled in the crevice where your skin met, Loki’s kisses sliding over your lips—one slipping into the next—pants of devotion wisping down your throat. He lifted your thigh, manoeuvring himself inside with one, liquid movement. You clasped to his shoulders, nails digging in to his flesh like he might vanish. All you could feel was his body, his presence, his faint moan of relief in your ear.

“No more living in the past,” you panted. “Loki, promise me.” He tilted his cheek into your wrist, water droplets falling from the ends of his hair to the curve of your breasts below. “A fresh start,” he said quietly, kissing the delicate skin. You groaned as he thrusted gently inside you. “Clean,” he panted, “New.” “Together,” you said. “Together,” Loki replied.

And then, among plumes of steam and the slide of bodies and wordless promises, there was no more talking.

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[reignpage]

Basketball Captain!Toji

Indiana Pacers: faking left

Contents: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, bts of a modern au!smau, cursing, mixed content (f/a/s), time reader and Toji spent as roommates, not proofread

Dear Diary,

Who would have thought that you’d be welcoming Toji into your apartment as a roommate for an indefinite amount of time?

It was weird to watch him eye your place and throw his duffel bag onto the couch before plopping himself down with a grunt. He’d been kicked out and you were both to blame. Having just gone on a run, he was surprised, and impressed he admitted to you, that Sukuna had managed to change the locks whilst he was gone. 

At least, the man had enough love in his cold, dead heart to leave a bag full of clothes — even if those clothes were mostly pyjama shirts, all the boxers in Toji’s drawer, one pair of sock (it had Gojo’s face on it and Toji explained it was a birthday gift that he has no plans of ever using), and one singular shoe.

It’d been five days since you’ve both been punished simultaneously and you’ve compiled your observations, none you’re allowed to publish, however, since apparently being made excommunicado from your own apartment is ‘humiliating’. 

So, here is a summary:

Roommate!Toji is surprisingly clean. He's insistent on certain things. Certainly not OCD about it, but he washes his plates, and yours, straight away, reasoning that since you cooked, it’s only right that he tidies up. He leaves them in the sink to soak before diligently scrubbing and drying. It’s common sense, of course, yet so shocking you just had to write it down.

But he's also messy. He leaves his gym bag, half opened, dirty towel just wallowing in sweat, on the floor. You've tripped over it so many times you've considered burning the damn bag. And his socks, oh god, his socks. He bought more since Sukuna wouldn't answer his messages and they've been scattered all over your place. Sock on the kitchen counter, sock in the crevices of the sofa, sock under the bed, sock on your desk, sock by the front door. It's like you're eat, sleep and breathing socks.

And if you have to say sock one more time you might just...

Let's leave it at that.

Roommate!Toji doesn’t like horror movies. He hates the romcoms you suggest and would much rather watch things like Transformers and Fast and Furious. Classic guy stuff. It’s been a constant battle for the remote, but if you offer something up, then you’ve found he’s a lot more receptive to your choices. 

This leads to your next observation. 

Roommate!Toji is hyper-sexual. If you want to watch 10 Things I Hate About You, then you’ll have to let him throatfuck you until you’re teary eyed and speechless. On the flip side, if he really wants to watch a basketball game, then he’s lifting you onto his lap, sliding your shorts off and pushing your panties to the side to wring orgasms out of you. One for every shot his favourite team makes. This sometimes means you’re left wet, gasping and gaping at nothing. And the other times, you’re being forced to cum and cum and cum until you’re so sure you’ve came as much as the universe could possibly allow anyone in one lifetime. 

He proves you wrong. 

Roommate!Toji isn't the only one who's got sex on their mind. That became abundantly clear on the first night when he promised to 'behave' to show his gratitude for your act of kindness. You replied with a 'good' and left it at that. However, it quickly started to gnaw at you. The way you were cuddled next to him on the sofa, all warm under the blanket, eating popcorn, watching some show you can't even remember now, and he wasn't squeezing your tit or kneading your ass like he used to before.

So, whilst he was into the show, you snuck your hand underneath, rubbing it against the bulge of his sweats and ignoring his amused huff. you felt him harden in your palm, and the promise of the stretch made your mouth and your pussy moisten. you whispered in his ear, 'can I just sit on it, please?'

He almost choked on a popcorn.

There were no other words exchanged, he just shoved his stupidly big hand down your panties and stretched you out on his fingers, taking all the time in the world, as he always did, knowing the kind of damage his even more stupidly big cock could do.

And then you were sinking down, back to his chest, as you continued to watch the show.

Despite turning out to be almost just as horny as he is, ultimately, it was the captain who just struggled to control himself. This brings you to your next point.

Roommate!Toji can’t keep his hands off of you. When you’re cooking, he comes up behinds you, grinds his already half-hard dick into your ass, groping your hip, stomach and tits like they owe him money. Then he’ll whisper ‘smell so good, ma’ or ‘am fucking starved, doll’ into your ear, and you find that dinner has to be pushed back an hour. Even if you’re passing by him to get a glass of water, he’s gripping your hip to still you, just so he can land a harsh smack that leaves your ass burning and jiggling for his viewing pleasure.

Roommate!Toji must be restrained at night. Even completely knackered from a whole day’s practice, he still finds the energy to wrestle you into his favourite position: face down, ass up. He’ll plow into you at an unforgiving pace, seeking out the shrieks of complete and utter pleasure from you, wanting to see his cock coated in your wetness. Or when you arrive late, having had an assignment to finish off in the library, and he’s already fallen asleep, you’ll lay beside him and doze off. 

And then…

Roommate!Toji has a somno kink! You figured that out a while back, when you first started sleeping together. Often waking up, with his hands on you, sucking a hickey on your neck. He never went farther, seemingly just enjoying the feel of your soft skin. Your ex was never so passionate, rarely ever even cuddled. Toji, on the other hand, seemed to seek you out even in his sleep. 

It makes your heart blush.

Roommate!Toji brings out hidden desires in you. Turns out, you also like somnophilia. You like waking up to his head between your legs, or his cock rubbing against that rubbery part of you that has you seeing stars. And you like, just as much, creeping under covers, pulling down his boxers, and waking him up with his cock down your throat. 

Of course, all that being said, it hasn’t just been pure sex. 

Roommate!Toji is a surprisingly good cook. You had expected him to be the type to order takeout, or eat ready made meals. But, and now that you think about it, you really shouldn’t have been so shocked, he’s quite rigid with his meal plans. He knows just how much protein and calories he’s taking in, he’s always snacking on fruit salads which he’ll share with you, and he shakes his head with a playful disappointment when you pop a candy instead in your mouth. 

Roommate!Toji is a great help around the apartment. He’ll grumble and call you a pussy when you shriek over a spider, cupping it in his hands and throwing it out without another word. It’s really nice not to have to do gymnastics or parkour to reach the cups at the top shelves, just have to beckon him over and he’s grabbing it for you with a lopsided grin, taking the opportunity to pin you against the counter and imposing his intimidating height, almost like a toll.

It gets you so wet when he helps you out. 

Roommate!Toji, despite being an athlete who has to wake up early for practice, is not a morning person. Sure, he’ll get up and do whatever he has to. But he won’t like it. And he makes it known. In the mornings when he needs to train or go for a run, he’s muttering curses and stretching with annoyance. But, when he’s got nothing on and his body still rouses from the routine, he’ll just lie there, sometimes on his phone, waiting for you. And other times, when he simply just cannot wait a second longer, he’ll play with your hair, enjoying the scent of your conditioner. 

You’ve caught him, a couple times, scanning your features with a small smile he didn’t realise he had. 

Roommate!Toji is shit at getting groceries. He always forgets something, whether that’s toothpaste, bread, eggs, milk, tissues and so on and so forth. It’s hilarious to think he can remember so many strategies, game plans, NBA stats, but when it comes to simple household items, he has not a clue. 

Roommate!Toji is ticklish. This is the best observation. Despite being all big and strong and oh so tough, the man squirms when your dancing fingers go anywhere near his waist or neck. He'll push you away with a string of curses, rolling his eyes at your giggles. And when you step closer for another attack, he'll twist you into a headlock. The man loves his headlocks. Says he does it all the time to his brother. In the midst of a full nelson, a 'punishment' of his, he made you promise not to do it again.

And when he's bullying his fat cock head inside your gummy walls, kissing your cervix with every thrust, it's just too hard to keep your wits about you. Which he knows very well. What he doesn't know, however, is that you had your fingers crossed.

You'll pull out your killing blow some other time, that's for sure.

Roommate!Toji doesn’t care what people think. Not really. Even though you’re a nobody and there are girls always cheering for him and waiting for him outside his classes or the court, his eyes find yours through the crowd. During an exhilarating game that converted you into a basketball tolerant (not a fan just quite yet), every time he scored, yours meet his. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

He was merely looking to see if you had seen how impressive it was. 

Or maybe there was someone behind you that caught his eye, perhaps someone flashed him. 

You don’t want to know. 

You can’t know. 

Roommate!Toji is moving back out today. He’s taken the basketball that laid around in the corner of the living room, the varsity jacket hanging on the door, and green toothbrush that stood next to your baby blue one. He’s packing up as you write this and neither of you are saying anything. 

There really isn’t anything to say. 

You both knew this would have to end eventually, in fact, you had been complaining every time he left the toilet seat up or left water marks on your coffee table or every time he wouldn’t let you get up from bed to use the toilet because he’s ‘too comfortable’ or because ‘you’re so warm’. 

Roommate!Toji points to a gift bag pushed behind some textbooks on your desk. You pause. He asks you what it is and you have nothing to say. He wasn’t supposed to ask, he should have pretended he didn’t see it, just as he had been since he first walked into your room with his bag.

The answer’s already hanging in the air, like a ball skirting around the edge of the hoop, waiting to drop, either in or out. 

Neither of you are willing to bet. 

So, you kiss Roommate!Toji goodbye, slapping his wandering hands away and he’s telling you he’ll text. 

And whether he will or will not, doesn’t really matter, because you’ve got some papers to write. 

But you hope he does. 

[harpsinfinity]

Falling asleep with könig, price and Simon

Warnings: a very small hint to sex (very small), fluff, badly translated German

Simon Riley

The lightest sleeper known to man, only when he's deployed though, your the only one that can pull him into the deepest sleep he's ever known. Most of the time he'll sleep with his head on your chest, finding your heartbeat one of the only things that's able to soothe him. It reminds him than your alive, he's alive. He'll hold onto you like your about to slip out of his hands like sand, he can't risk losing the love of his life. It's now a nightly routine of Simon falling asleep on your chest with his arms tightly wrapped around your waist, the almost permanent Stern and tense look on his face melting away to reveal a soft and relaxed look as he feels your hands play with the short blonde tuffs of his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp.

Captain Price

This man will trap you in an everlong bear hug. His massive thick arms just wrapped around your waist with his head in the crook of your neck or on your shoulder. His beard is kinda scratchy but you endure it for him. He snores. Loud. Too loud. He has so many bruises on his ass from you kicking him to shut up. Sounds like a storm is coming from your shared room. Even so, you still love being in the same bed as him, whether he's fucking your brains out or giving you cuddles and tender kisses to your head. He always loves to see you sleeping in one of his old baggy shirts, the neck of it being too big and hanging off one shoulder. He'll always make sure either you or his shirt smells like him for when he's out on deployment for months, something of him to make you feel like he's with you.

König

He'll have you on his chest, if not he'll he laying on his side with you close to him, his arm slung around you. König will always insist on sleeping closest to the door to keep his love safe. He's the heaviest sleeper known to man, not even a hit to the head with a frying pan would wake him. Even so, he's like a human furnace, a natural heater. Sometimes it's too hot and you have to try and get out of his grip to cool down. You've always felt so safe sleeping with him, how can't you when this big brute of a person is keeping you safe? König loves it when you fall asleep holding hands, bodies intertwined and not to be moved until the sunlight starts pouring in through the gaps in the curtains.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Never prank a Human

Alien: So were you able to get back at the captain?

Alien 2: I don’t want to talk about it…..

Alien: What do you mean?

Alien: Last time you were here you told me that you found out that the human was afraid of “clowns” and had just ordered an outfit to wear and scare him with.

Alien 2: It did not go as planned.

Alien: What; did you not scare them?

Alien 2: Oh I did.

Alien 2: Waited in his quarters and then when he was just about to lay down in bed I jumped out and scared him before running out of the room.

Alien: Alright, mission complete.

Alien 2: I had just made it back to my quarters when the intercom activated and the captain spoke.

Alien 2: *Imitating human captain “All crew, all crew; we have a code clown, repeat, we have a code clown; this is not a drill.”

Alien: Wait, humans have a code for that?

Alien 2: Apparently.

Alien: But aren’t they silly humans wearing makeup and silly clothes.

Alien 2: Nope.

Alien 2: Turns out “Clowns” are intergalactic beings that feed on humans and try to lure them away from their packs with their bright outfits and silly faces.

Alien: Oh gods.

Alien 2: Next thing I knew bulkheads were sealing left and right and armed patrols were conducting a room by room search.

Alien: Shut the florp up.

Alien 2: I watched through my doors peephole as they dragged my next cabin neighbor out kicking and screaming as they found white face paint amongst their belongings.

Alien 2: After that everyone onboard was removed from their cabins and placed in the main hall before it was sealed off.

Alien 2: The captain came out with a row of armed guards on either side and demanded whoever was harboring the clown step forward at once.

Alien 2: When no one did the captain became angry and said he would begin interrogating people until he found the culprit. Any who were found guilty would be sent out the airlock.

Alien: This all seems rather unlike humans.

Alien 2: I thought so to.

Alien 2: Yet it seems to stem from their great fear of these clown like beings.

Alien: What happened next?

Alien 2: The captain led people one by one into another room before coming back for another person.

Alien: What happened to the first person they took?

Alien 2: They never came back….

Alien: Dear gods….

Alien 2: One by one the entire crew was hauled away until it was just me and the captain.

Alien 2: He asked me, *Imitating captain “Are you a clown?”

Alien 2: I said “No sir.”

Alien 2: They said “Have you helped a clown board my vessel an place us all in jeopardy?”  

Alien 2: I said “No sir, I would never.”

Alien 2: He said “I know you’re a lying sack of froth shite and you’ve just dug your own grave. We searched your room and found the clown suit!”

Alien 2: I said “There must be some mistake!”

Alien 2: He replied “I don’t make mistakes boy; and now your time has come to pay for your crimes.”

Alien 2: A pair of guards came over and began dragging me to doorway I assumed was the airlock intent to shoot me out of it.

Alien 2: I kicked and screamed and begged but they threw me in and locked the door behind me.

Alien 2: I heard the countdown timer begin as the captain leaned in and laughed at me as I started banging away at the door.

Alien 2: The timer reached 0 and the opposite door flung open as I prepared myself to die.

Alien: Well I take it you didn’t die since you’re right here telling me this story.

Alien 2: I was greeted by a laughing throng of guests standing around on our destination planet.

Alien 2: It seemed we had landed the night before and the captain had failed to inform the rest of the guests.

Alien 2: He had known it was me in the clown suit and had pulled each guest aside to get them onboard with his revenge prank while making me believe they had been flung out an airlock.

Alien: Wow. That’s fucked up even by our standards.

[chibinasuu]

Luffy x Reader ― hot drinks; kisses

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― @splicer13vex tags: sfw, pure fluff, established relationship, GN!reader, no use of y/n

It was well past midnight when Luffy woke you up.

He not-so-gently shook you, but had the tact to whisper your name so as not to wake up your sleeping crewmates.

“Wha- Luffy?” You groggily asked, still half-asleep. You immediately jumped up, though, once you remembered that Luffy was supposed to be on night watch today, “Did something happen? Are we under attack?”

“No, everything’s fine.” He grinned, “I want some hot chocolate.”

You groaned and let yourself fall back into bed, “Go wake Sanji.”

“Aw, come on, I like your hot chocolate better!” He paused for a moment, then added quickly, “Don’t tell Sanji that!”

You couldn’t help but smile despite your annoyance at being woken up in the middle of the night. You felt yourself inevitably giving in – there was just something about Luffy that made it impossible for you to say no to him. 

“Alright,” You finally said, kicking off your blanket before quietly tiptoeing out of the room, “Let’s make you some hot chocolate.”

Luffy fist-pumped silently as he followed you to the kitchen.

Once you’ve gathered all of the ingredients, Luffy hopped onto the kitchen counter and watched quietly as you poured some milk into a pot, heating it slowly over medium-low heat. You chopped up a chocolate bar in the meanwhile, occasionally having to slap Luffy’s rubbery hand away as he tried to snatch some to snack on. After tossing the chocolate into the pot, you whisked it slowly, waiting for it to melt and incorporate into the milk. 

Luffy jumped down from the counter and wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering into your ear, “Is it ready yet?”

“No,” You chuckled, “The chocolate needs to melt completely.”

After a few minutes of you just stirring the liquid, you could feel Luffy getting more and more impatient. His hands had started wandering, running up and down your sides. He nibbled on your ear, and pressed kisses to your shoulder.

“Is it ready yet?” He asked again. 

“Not yet, just a bit more.” You turned your head to give him a kiss on the cheek, “Help me get the mugs ready?”

Luffy kept one arm around you as he stretched the other, reaching into one of the overhead cabinets and bringing out two mugs. 

You prepared Luffy’s portion first, pouring some of the thick chocolate goodness into a mug, before adding some whipped cream and a ton of marshmallows, just the way he liked it. You then filled your own mug, leaving some of the hot chocolate behind in the pot because you knew Luffy would ask for a second serving later.

You watched Luffy as he happily licked off the whipped cream, eyes sparkling once that first sip of the rich chocolate flowed into his mouth. You smiled fondly at his childlike wonder as you brought your mug to your lips, eager to have a taste of the drink too. 

“Ouch!” You jerked the mug away, feeling your tongue and lips burning. You had been so distracted watching Luffy enjoy his drink that you had forgotten to blow on the hot liquid that you had literally just poured from the boiling pot. 

Luffy immediately put down his mug, “You okay?”

“I think I burnt my tongue.” You said, sticking your tongue out in pain. 

Luffy surged toward you to take a closer look. Without warning, he leaned in and captured your tongue in between his lips, sucking on it gently.

Surprised and flustered, you quickly pulled back, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, “Luffy! Wh-what are you doing?”

Luffy merely grinned, “I’m kissing it better, of course!”

His sincerity made you laugh, giving you the courage to shyly lean in again, “Well, my lips are still burning. Do you mind kissing them better too?”

Your Captain wasted no time cupping your face in his hands and pressing his plush lips to yours. Gently at first, soft pecks to soothe your burning lips. He sucked on your bottom lip slowly, before moving on to your upper lip. Your hands went to his hair, grasping the soft strands and pulling him closer as you angled your mouth to deepen the kiss. 

He tasted like chocolate, and marshmallows, and whipped cream. 

“Feeling better now?” He mumbled against your lips in between kisses.

“Hmm, not yet,” You cheekily replied, “More, please.”

Luffy enthusiastically granted your request, capturing your lips again with renewed fervor. You lost yourself in him. No matter how many times you’ve kissed Luffy, it always felt like the first time – heart pounding, skin flushing, butterflies in your stomach. You simply couldn’t get enough. You breathed in deeply through your nose, savoring the smell of his shampoo, the lingering scent of chocolate in the air, and… smoke?

You pulled away, causing Luffy to whine and chase your lips, but you halted him with a hand on his chest. 

You turned toward the stove, and your heart dropped when what you saw confirmed your suspicion. You quickly turned off the fire, which you had apparently forgotten to do amidst the heat of things – your second blunder of the night. The leftover hot chocolate you set aside for Luffy was now a blackened, burned mess at the bottom of the pot. 

“Ugh,” You groaned, slapping Luffy in the chest, “This is your fault for being so damn distracting!”

Luffy apparently found your distress amusing, because he only laughed as he pulled you into a tight embrace, “My bad!”

He gave your cheek a big smooch, “Now, let’s get out of here before Sanji finds out about this.”

Needless to say, Luffy got an earful from the cook the next morning about the ruined pot. He took all the blame in stride and grinned widely as he apologized, never once mentioning your involvement in the incident to the enraged cook.

a/n: i'm back with another cozy holiday fic! still recovering from my nasty cold, but i’m feeling a lot better now!! thanks everyone who sent me well wishes (and sanjis with soups) 🥹🫶🏻

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

[mo-online]

"the other ravens didn't know jean's age!!!"

think of any 16 year old boy you know. does he look like an adult to you? would you call him a whore if you'd found out he'd gotten into five different men's beds in less than a week?

no?

then think of a scrawny, underfed 16 year old boy. his face is bony, but not quite sharp. his nose is crooked, and a part of you thinks that maybe he just hasn't grown into his own face yet, at least until the bruising makes you want to look away before you can think about it any harder. none of his clothes fit him quite right, and you can always hear his joints popping in and out of place. he has the thickest accent you've ever heard, and you still don't quite know what he's saying most of the time, even if he swears it's english and looks close to tears if you insist it's anything but too loudly (he's only been in america for two years and it's hard to grasp much when all you have to develop your language skills from is cruel insults).

he's not as tall as the rest of the court yet — actually, he's far from it. he's not spared enough to build any muscle, even throughout the relentless practices, and he always looks five seconds from passing out by the time the drills even start. he's sweating, panting, and there's a rattling in his chest when he does... has he broken a rib? why is he even here? he's not as big, not nearly as strong, and the other ravens zero in on him until he's a puddle on the floor. he can barely keep his own racquet steady in his hands, and when he props it up to lean on, you realize he isn't much bigger than the damn thing itself. the captain is always dragging him around, sometimes by his wrist, sometimes by his hair. you think it's just messy hazing for a while, and maybe you dare to spare him a pitiful nod and hope for his sake it'll end soon, but months go by and it never does. he's doubled over one day, then running laps the next, and god, why does he always reek of blood? you start to notice his fingers as they change colors, once bony and milky pale, now bruised black and blue and crusted over with scabs. they're misshapen... broken, almost every one. he shouldn't be playing like this, but he tugs his gloves on with his teeth and plays through the pain.

you pass his room on your way to bed, door wide open. he sleeps curled up in a ball, back pressed so hard against the wall, knees into his chest. you can hear his shaky breaths, how his lungs rattle uneasily, even in his sleep. he shakes himself awake from nightmares, gripping the sheets, dry heaving as he forces his own face into the pillow to muffle the sound... but he does not scream. he does not cry. poor kid, you think, because what else could you call him? he's far too beaten down to even think to consider an adult. a puppy kicked one too many times.

the captain calls everyone into a room, arms folded over his chest, face smug as if he'd come up with a solution to the entire world's problems. but there's something strange about the meeting. only backliners. gigantic, sneering, male backliners. he asks for volunteers, a few good samaritans to "fuck some sense into him," and you watch as five greedy hands fight to be the first in the air. riko makes his pick, makes his promise, and for the next week it's all you can hear at night. you wouldn't call it moaning, but... screaming. fighting. teeth and claws and fickle words. "please. please stop. please stop. please—" and then silence. the last night all you hear is defeated silence.

and suddenly it's the child's fault, isn't it? everyone else is saying it, that he slept his way onto the lineup, that he's nothing more than a braindead whore. if everyone's saying it, though, does that make it true?

or is it just easier to stomach?

[gojosoups]

Luffy x reader | oneshot, smut, 18+

Captain's Orders

ღ summary: Perhaps the summer heat was finally getting to his head, making him feel delirious and restless, or perhaps it was the way the summer season looked so good on you, with sweat trickling down your neck and the strings of your bikini trying their best to keep you covered. But one thing was for sure, what bothered him most (despite his obliviousness), was the look Sanji kept throwing your way and his unwillingness to leave your side the whole day.

ღ pairing: jealous!luffy x reader

ღ warnings/tags: 18+, smut, established relationship, implied breeding kink, creampie, fingering, cum licking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, feelings of jealousy, possessive behaviour, markings, female reader, female-bodied reader, slightly proofread, ooc?, luffy's big back is greedy

a/n: repost from my old blog because I impulsively deleted my account :/ also does anyone know the artist? cuz I wanna properly tag them

wc: 0.8k

Jealous!Luffy who sat on his special seat on the Thousand Sunny, watching intently at the interaction before him. His back against the lion's head and arms crossed behind his head in a laid-back manner, despite the intensity of his stare. The captain's precious straw hat resting on his head tilted down, hiding the murderous glare directed at Sanji.

Jealous!Luffy who was stuck watching the interaction before him, how you have Sanji wrapped around your little finger, catering to your very beck and call. His glare unwavering as he saw the way Sanji was looking at you, at the way he was ogling at you, practically undressing you with his perverted eyes.

Jealous!Luffy who recognizes the look Sanji was giving you. Hell, it was the same look he has whenever he sees you. Although... Luffy can't blame Sanji for his lustful gaze, not when you were perched prettily on the lawn chair, looking like an appetizing meal, tempting and delicious.

Jealous!Luffy who was starting to get restless from how you were carelessly sitting there, looking pretty and taking every single compliment Sanji threw your way with a smile on your lovely face. He was getting frustrated from listening to your adorable giggles whenever Sanji showered you with compliments, bringing a smile to your glossy kissable lips. A tiny green monster crawling its way into his heart as he sat unmoving from his seat, watching another man treat you like you were his, when you belonged to Luffy.

Jealous!Luffy who will forever be a kid at heart. Greedy and possessive over what belongs to him. After all, what belongs to Luffy, is his. He did not like to share his food, and he definitely won't share you and the sweet dessert between your thighs. These were merely the captain's orders.

Jealous!Luffy who finally had enough. Getting up from the lion's head, Luffy made a beeline towards your direction. Ignoring the curious looks his other crew mates sent his way, his grip on your forearm firm, maybe a little too firm, and pulling you up as the chair launches to the floor. Ignoring your protests and questions, he made his way towards the women's cabin with you meekly following behind.

Jealous!Luffy who can be impatient at times, kicking the door open and throwing you onto the bed. He can be so impatient, and forgetful too, about locking the door. But you can't blame him, can you? Not when you look breathtaking with your bare back against the bed, your pathetic excuse of a bikini hastily taken off and thrown across the room, and your hair sprawled across the sheets, framing your beautiful face. There was no need for him to tell you what to do, it had become routine work for you.

Jealous!Luffy who can be so mean at times, eagerly coating himself with your slick, before aligning with your slutty pussy and thrusting his cock inside your warm cunt with little to no prep. But he couldn't help himself, not when your silky warm walls were clenching on his cock, trying to milk him for everything he's worth, and especially not when he had you squirming and crying underneath him, begging him for more and more and more. He couldn't help himself, not when the squelching sounds the both of you made were music to his ears, or how the drag of his veins running along the underside of his cock felt like pure heaven against your spongy tight walls.

Jealous!Luffy who worshiped your very existence, marking you as his for others to see. He left bruises and bite marks across your delicate skin, decorating every inch of you his hands or mouth could find. His grip on your hips never weakened, nails digging into your flesh and leaving behind crescent shapes. He continued with his assault. Kissing, licking, and biting from your neck and collarbone, all the way to the valley of your breasts.

Jealous!Luffy who’s pace only increased with each thrust, going harder and faster as he desperately chased after his and your release. Your back arched and nails digging in his back desperately for stability as you clench impossibly tight on his dick, pulling him in further as you come undone around him. But Luffy wasn't done with you just yet.

Jealous!Luffy who kept fucking your poor cunt over and over again, chasing after his release. Until finally, he came. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he released his seed deep inside your fertile cunt. Your name rolling off the tip of his tongue like a prayer.

Jealous!Luffy who watched your sensitive pussy spill out his cum, unable to keep it all stuffed inside your tight hole. Using his right index and middle finger, he played around with the mixture of his and your cum, spreading it across your poor puffy lips and pushing it back into your sweet hole. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he happily cleaned them, humming in approval at his satisfied hunger.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[charliemwrites]

хозяин

Nobody. You wish it weren’t so apt. But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth.

Content: Dub-Con, Biting, Scratching, Exhibitionism, Possessive Behavior, Toxic Behavior

You must have pissed something off in a past life. Or they’re planning on giving you something really good in the next one. Because this… this is too much. He’s too much.

We are exactly right for you, khozyain.

It’s not just the taste of leather and oil on the back of your tongue each morning. Or the crimson smears on your sheets before bed. You could live with the shit sleep, the centuries of foreign memories, and the occasional hankering for raw meat that thins your appetite to nothing.

“You’re KorTac’s best operative?”

It’s a question you’ve heard a dozen times before – and will likely hear a dozen times more. The criticism is valid. You’re not an imposing figure; nothing impressive about you. Look more like a child in a Halloween costume than anything resembling a soldier. The question never bothers you because the unofficial title is as ill-fitting as the gun strapped to your thigh.

It’s not you they need to worry about bothering.

“We are. Problem, soldat?”

“There’s no problem, Nikto,” you answer in Sebastian Krueger’s place.

No, Krueger is too busy wondering where the big, dark figure behind your shoulder just came from. He could have sworn you stepped out of the transport alone. In broad daylight, no less. (That doesn’t mean there aren’t shadows.)

Nikto grunts, nearly tripping you with how closely he walks, toes of his boots nipping at the heels of yours. A stride twice the length of your own but doggedly following, not leading.

“Thought there was only one ‘a ya,” Declan O’Conor muses.

“Paperwork issue,” you lie, smiling.

Nikto grunts, pressing into your back as you stop in front of your temporary captain. You have to brace against his oppressive weight, feel yourself flush a bit when you don’t quite manage.

“Who’re you, then?” Declan asks, eyes on your shadow.

“Nikto,” comes the gruff reply.

Nobody.

You wish it weren’t so apt.

But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth. You don’t know if he ever was; he never gives you a straight answer when you pluck up the courage (or frustration) to ask. Last time, he told you that if he ever wanted to feel human, he’d just be inside you. (You’d flushed, didn’t know if he meant in your mind, where he often takes up unwanted residence, or… elsewhere. Couldn’t make yourself ask him to clarify, afraid of the answer. Jumped whenever he touched you for a week.)

You don’t know the exact bounds of this pact either. He listens to you only sometimes. When it suits him – or when it least suits you. And you’re not immune to his cruelty either, as the bruises and bitemarks and scratches can attest. Nothing like the romanticized crossroads deals you see in tv shows and movies.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure if he’s a punishment for you or if you’re a reward for him. What’s that line you read online once? Dog heaven is squirrel hell. Did he make a deal with you, or did he make a deal with something else, and you’re just collateral?

You never bother to ask. He’ll just click his forked tongue and tell you that it won’t get rid of him either way. The worst part is that he’ll be right. You’re pretty sure the Christian God as you know Him has nothing to do with any of this.

The mission doesn’t matter, not really. You only listen for objectives. Whoever needs killing, whatever information needs gathering, wherever the hostages are. The rest is all useless extra, so much noise to Nikto, not even listening. He’s too busy bullying his way between your thighs, sinking his teeth into the meat through your cargos.

You’re never sure if he’s visible or the other operatives just avoid looking at him in these moments. Regardless, you flush and kick at him when his jaw locks too hard. It’ll bruise livid and ugly, and he’ll fuck the head of his cock into the aching ring of teeth prints left behind.

He’s insistent when the briefing is over, riled up by the promise of bloodshed. Pushy and growling, nearly snapping through his “mask” as he herds you like a rabid shepherd to your temporary quarters.

He fucks you in the doorway though, using one thick arm to bounce you like a personal fleshlight. The other keeps your jaw forced open so he can spit and lick into your mouth, obscene and filthy.

You push and squirm, but he just laughs that awful, maniacal rattle and grinds your clit into his pelvis. Until you start to mean it when you whimper “no” and “stop.” It always makes him cum so hard that you taste ichor in the back of your throat.

It’s too much to hope that you’ll eat in the mess hall uninterrupted. Nikto’s presence attracts the worst, and Krueger is compelled to pick at the weakness you exude. It’s no question that he’s a bigger, stronger, meaner beast than you. But like a dying soldier left to scream in the field, there’s a muzzle hidden out of sight, awaiting whatever is lured in – for mercy or to feast.

Krueger takes the seat across from you, one of his boots landing heavy and threatening on top of yours. You eat quietly, picking at your mashed potatoes and rubbery chicken. Listen to him jab and jeer.

Nikto is there but he’s not. He’s laughing in your ear at all the true but derisive things Krueger is taunting you with. All the sins he boasts of and the reactions he takes as proof of your inadequacy for the assignment you’ve been brought for. It would hurt more of you didn’t know it was true – and if your nerves weren’t rattling.

There’s a line, always a line. Some fault hidden beneath the surface that you don’t see until the ground splits and swallows up the unfortunate soul above.

This time, it’s a comment about how much more useful you’d be as a cockwarmer.

The plastic fork is an inch from his eye by the time you finish blinking.

“Nikto, stop!”

It snaps in his tight fist – but stops. Krueger hasn’t even processed how close he was to losing half his sight before you’re yanking Nikto back by the straps. He’s growling, snarling, half-crazed over a comment he’s made himself. You abandon your mostly full tray and the table altogether, putting all your weight and strength into dragging him from the cafeteria.

“Calm down, that’s enough!” you shout over the animalistic sounds ripping from his throat.

He turns on you instead. Pins you to the wall just outside, in full view of anyone passing on their way to dinner.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he’s chanting. Ripping through your pants (that’s the second pair this week) and thrusting against the seam of your ass. Already leaking precum from an obsidian tip at the small of your back, the corpse-pale base nestled between your cheeks. If he had the coordination through the frenzy, he’d stuff it into you dry and tight. As it is, it’s all he can do to buck against you, fingers digging divots into the cement wall, dust raining down on your face.

Mine, mine, mine, he chants inside your skull in languages known and unknown. You’re leaking through your underwear, too overwhelmed and bewildered to be anything but turned on. Fear is synonymous with attraction, those two wires soldered together and circuited to your pussy.

Copper fills your nose, warmth drips down your lips. Nikto scents it like a hound, yanks your head back to lap at the blood, groaning into your mouth.

Yours, yours, yours as his cock splutters against your spine, too hot. Tingly, almost caustic. You can barely breathe and he’s hauling you over one big shoulder, scooping your slick to prod at the hole he was just grinding against.

Us as you’re pinned with nowhere to go and no voice to praise or protest. In a room darker than a void. Suspended on an endless continuum of pleasure and pain, phantom claws raking your skin and phantom mouths filling whatever holes his cock isn’t occupying.

Sometimes you wonder if the plural “we” and “us” he tends to use is in reference to you and him, or…

The mission is going to be a success, it always is. You separate from the rest of the KorTac squad, shooing Nikto’s hands out from under your shirt. The claw marks still sting; the sooner you can get out of tac gear, the better.

He cracks his neck as the two of you approach the infil point. It sounds like snapping bone. A crescent moon carves into the night sky, sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“Is it time, khozyain?”

Those cajoling whispers caress your ears again. To let him run rampant, to let him fill your bath with blood. He’d be a scourge on the earth if you let him, a one-man apocalypse. The death of the world for a slip of the tongue.

Your hold on his leash is so tight that it’s imprinted past the skin, down into muscle. But on nights like tonight, for things like this… you let out the lead.

“Stay clear of Point B,” you remind into your com.

“Roger,” all others agree.

If they know what’s good for them, they’ll abide by the plan like holy writ. Not even you can promise their lives if they stray.

Shadow looms behind you, grows with each beat of your heart, spills over your shoulders, threads down your arms. You don’t dare glance at the inhuman head hovering right by yours, the maw parting for vicious, pearlescent teeth and pooling saliva. Hungry. Starving.

“Nikto.”

A rolling, ravenous churr vibrates through your skull. The lowest windows of your target begin to crack.

“Hunt.”

[genderless-naper]

muddy problems

trafalgar law x gf!reader

warnings: fluffy law

sfw, wc: 1k, lowercase intended !

helping your tired law through shower time

law walks through the halls of the polar tang tirelessly. he didn’t expect the most recent encounter with another pirate ship to be such a headache to handle. the captain of the opposing crew was was a devil fruit user: the user of the mud-mud fruit.

needless to say, it was hard for anyone to contain their laughter when law walked passed looking like he just got out of a mud bath. he wouldn’t usually be this forgiving, but he was simply too tired to deal with them. he kicked off his shoes before entering his room.

he saw you laying in his bed reading a book without a care in the world. his gaze softened slightly while drawing a loud breath to release some tension. you looked up at the raven-haired man.

you stared. he stared back.

you hold a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. it took every fiber in your body to restrain yourself from rolling on the floor in laughter.

you cleared your throat to greet him, “who knew the tough trafalgar law would fall victim to a mud bath in the middle of a fight?”

law doesnt reply to your statement. instead he focuses on discarding ed his current wear to avoid getting the place more dirty. he had bigger problems to worry about than some rhetoric questions. he needed to get clean fast. the mud on him started to make him feel suffocated.

he looks for a clean pair of clothes to wear for post shower. you close your book and put it on the bedside table so you can follow him. still fighting back laughs you continue to ask, “how many shampoo rinses do you think it takes for that mess to get out your hair?”

law sighs in his tired state and mumbles, “hopefully no more than 3”

you cant help but let a laugh escape, “just 3?? don’t you think you’re being s bit too generous captain? i was thinking at least 5!”

he groans quietly. it was clear the doctor was more exhausted than he would like to admit. you felt bad for your poor lover. as much as you would like to pick on him and his unusual circumstances you knew that wasn’t what law needed right now. he needed your support.

you ran to the bathroom to get his shower started for him. you made sure the temperature was just how he liked it. he followed momentarily; throwing his clean clothes on the shelf of the bathroom as a yawn escapes his lips.

he continues to discard the remainder of his mud soaked clothes while carefully placing them in a bag. he checked the temperature before getting in. another sigh escaping his lips. you smiled contently watching the way the water rolls off his skin, his muscles stretching with every moment, and how his lips part perfectly.

his rinses his hair with shampoo over and over. each wash just made him feel like the mud would never get out. after a few more moments he gives up. he decided to sit for a moment and let the water hit his strained body as he rubs his tired eyes.

you sympathize with you poor boyfriend. you turn the water off and rub his tense shoulders, “maybe i should help you baby? you see like you’ve had a long day”

law, being too prideful to accept your help, shook his head and responded lowly, “i just need a second..”

you hum, “you take a second and ill work on getting this mud out your hair.” you lathered the soup onto your palms and massaged it into the raven colored hair. you were on your knees to match his height as he sat. you massaged his scalp in order to clean every strand.

law’s senses of alertness slowly slipped away. he closed his eyes, and tried his best to keep his head up straight. after swaying from side to side you decided its best to rest his head on your chest as you worked through his hair. he created a soapy mess on your shirt. the man was too engulf in his own drowsiness to notice. you hum a sweet tune into his ear and watched as most his tense muscles relaxed with your touch.

he would never let anyone close like he has with you. sometimes he feels stupid to let his barriers come down for you, and feeling too afraid that something bad will happen to you as well. as much as law protests against himself he still finds himself sharing cherished intimate moments with you.

you guide the heavy-lidded man through the rest of his shower while reciting words of encouragement. getting your shirt wet in the process was a small price to pay to help your lover. once the shower concluded you turn it off and hand him his towel.

the tattooed man dries himself with it slowly. he slightly furrows his brows and points to your shirt, “why are you all wet?” completely oblivious to the consequences of his actions. you shook your head and giggled, “no specific reason baby”

he gave you an apologetic look after realizing he was the reason for your current soaked state. you quickly disregarded with lines of ‘it’s okay’s and ‘don’t worry’s. you gave him his clothes once he’s ready.

he grabs your arms and holds them up to pull your drenched shirt off. he wore his clean shirt on you, “i dont want you to get sick y/n, especially if its because of me.” you were going to protest against, but after seeing the look of anxiousness taking ahold of him you decided its best to accept his acts of kindness.

he always does everything in his power to make sure you are well; afraid to live in a world where he has to grieve you along with other which were once present in his life. it shows very much during moments like these. you place a few kisses on his lips feeling luckier than a lottery winner. you helped your tired boy navigate through the rest of his routine before he fell into bed. he lifted the cover up to make sure you followed in his steps. the mud-soaked version of himself from earlier that day became a part of the past. he enjoyed what he had at that very moment, and that was your beautiful self with a smile that lights your face. it was truly able to cure any disease of his heart. that night law had no trouble falling into an imaginative dream where you two lived together without a care in the world

[kitten4sannie]

HOT TO GO!

pairing: boyfriend! hongjoong x fem! reader

genre: smut

summary: poor hongjoong always ends up fighting demons when he’s up too late in the studio. he has no choice but to facetime you in hopes that you’ll help solve his dilemma.

w.c: 1.5k

warnings: soft dom but slightly subby! hongjoong, sub with some dom tendencies! reader, phone/facetime sex, teasing, pet names, dirty talk, some instruction giving, tit play/sucking requested by joong (they match each other’s freak okay), mutual masturbation, brief breeding kink

a/n: oh captain my captain~~ oomfs let me know about this wonderful prompt and i simply couldn’t say no 😵‍💫💕 there’s something about a nasty facetime call between two people that are extremely desperate for each other that drives me insaneeeee GOD. enjoy lovelies <3

song rec: cyber sex by doja cat

“Come on, let this be the one,” Hongjoong sighed to himself, listening intently to the track he was in the process of crafting. After hours and hours spent hunched over his monitor, something still wasn’t right. “Fuck, man…”

He rubbed the pads of his thumbs into the bridge of his nose once he removed his reading glasses, pinching it slightly. He glanced at the bottom of the monitor with his bloodshot eyes, noting that the clock had just struck 12, before looking down at his phone screen, tapping it gently, a breathtaking photo of you popping up and almost making him forget where he even was. He couldn’t believe he had to be away from you for so long, stuck inside his studio instead of being being stuck between your trembling thighs, wishing he could listen to the lovely sounds you produced for him rather than the artificial ones he made with his keyboard.

The longer he thought about what you were possibly doing in bed without him, the more he began to squirm in his plush computer chair, grabbing at the crotch of his baggy sweatpants. Maybe if he could just release some tension, he’d finally figure out how to finish the song. And maybe, just maybe, his baby wouldn’t be opposed to helping him out a bit. 

Hongjoong propped his phone up against his monitor and hit the call icon next to your name, biting into his chapped bottom lip, feeling more and more like a pervert the longer he listened to the dial tone drone on, figuring you were probably just trying to get a good night’s rest. And, here he was, trying to get his nut off. “Goddamn it,” he mumbled to himself, resting his head in his hand just as his phone made a familiar chirping sound. It was then that your sleepy voice rang out through the phone speaker.

“Hey, how’s my baby doing?” You smiled at the sight of your slightly disheveled boyfriend on your bright phone screen, kicking off your warm covers. “Are you making sick beats?” 

“The sickest,” Hongjoong replied softly, his lips curling up into a feline-like smile, his tired eyes sparkling at the sight of you. “I’m good now that I’m seeing your pretty face. I missed you today.” 

“I missed you too, Joongie.” You rolled onto your side in your regretfully empty bed, resting your phone against the edge of your pillow, one of your loose tank top straps sliding down your shoulder. “Still in the studio, huh?” You pouted at your boyfriend, batting your eyelashes. “Why aren’t you at home yet? In bed with me?” 

Hongjoong gulped, unconsciously wetting his lips with his tongue, trying not to fixate on the way your tits were squished together, your tank top barely concealing what was hidden underneath. “I wish I was in bed with you right now…so bad…I, actually, couldn’t stop thinking about you before I called. I couldn’t concentrate on my music.” 

You giggled softly, knowing him well enough to know why he was having a hard time keeping eye contact with you, pressing your tits together just a little more, watching your boyfriend’s mouth open slightly. “Oh, so it’s my fault you couldn’t concentrate, huh? Should I take responsibility, Joongie?” 

Hongjoong squeezed his ringed fingers into one of his thighs, biting back the groan he wanted to let out. His baby was always such a tease. It pained him that he couldn’t be there with you physically to tease you back in the way he wanted, knowing he would have you flushed, soaked, and begging for him to be inside you. For now, he would have to make the most of this late night facetime call. 

“You should, babygirl. You’re always so naughty for me when I’m home, always making me think dirty things when I’m in the studio. Just look at what you’ve done to me,” Hongjoong answered huskily, slowly leaning back against his computer chair, allowing you to see the way his stiff cock was pressing into the thin material of his joggers. He squeezed around the base of it, jerking himself off in an agonizingly slow manner, knowing it would drive you insane. “Mm, make it up to Joongie, yeah? Take your tits out.” 

As you obediently tugged your top down and allowed your tits to spill out, much to Hongjoong’s satisfaction, he tugged his leaking cock free from its confines, causing you to begin to drool almost as if on command, having to swallow it all down to keep it from spilling out, wishing your boyfriend was on the bed next to you so that his heavy cock could plug up your throat. For now, you would have to settle for watching him touch himself on your phone screen. “Now what, Joongie?” you asked, bringing your free hand up to your tits to grope and squeeze at them. 

“S-suck on them…” he requested perversely, a bead of sweat dripping along his temple. 

Propping your phone against one of your plushies, you brought both of your hands to the undersides of your tits, slowly bringing them up near your mouth. “Joongie’s a little pervert, huh? Wanting to watch his baby suck on her own tits like this….” 

“I-i am…wanna see you be naughty for me…” Hongjoong blushed heavily, pulling at the strings of his hoodie in an act to conceal himself, his dilated eyes still focused solely on you, his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock, feeling it throb persistently. 

Humming, you brought one of them to your mouth, idly licking around and over your nipple until it hardened against your tongue, sucking it into your warm mouth and moaning, before giving your other tit the same treatment, occasionally looking up at your boyfriend with hazy, half-closed eyes, wishing your wetness was leaking out around his moving cock, instead of soaking into your panties. “Baby…stop for a second…” you whispered, squeezing your thighs together. 

“Yes, princess,” Hongjoong obeyed breathily, taking his hand off of his length and instead grabbing at his thigh, his stiff cock twitching upwards like it had a mind of its own, sticky pre-cum pooling from his tip and dripping down the side. It looked like he was going to bust at any given second. 

Licking your lips at Hongjoong’s pitiful state, you sat up on the bed and faced your phone, opening your slick covered thighs, pulling your panties to the side and spreading yourself open to show your boyfriend the way your pretty pink hole fluttered around nothing.  “Can you please fuck me? I’m so empty, I wanna cry…” 

“Oh my godddd, baby,” Hongjoong groaned, watching closely as you rubbed your fingers over your cunt, able to hear just how incredibly wet you were for him, eventually tugging his hood off of his head and running his fingers through his hair, gripping it for a second to keep himself from tweaking. “I wish I could fuck you dumb right now…You have no idea how bad I wanna fill you up…” 

“Guess I’ll have to get the job done myself until you get home, huh?” you sighed playfully, just as you easily slipped two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckles, adding a third because you could, before fucking them in and out of you, the obscenely wet sounds your cunt made each time sending Hongjoong into a deeper state of need. “J-joongie, please cum inside me…I need it…”

Letting out a whimper, Hongjoong resumed his desperate act of self pleasure, quickly collecting his abundant pre-cum to slick up his twitching cock each time his closed fist moved near the shiny, red tip. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna cum so hard for you…” 

Keeping your eyes locked on your boyfriend’s half-lidded ones, you quickened your pace, your fingers beginning to cramp, curling them up just enough to pound them into your g-spot, causing your gasps to turn into whiny moans, a few tears starting to spill from your eyes, similar to the arousal that was spilling out of your pulsing cunt. “I’m cumming, Joongie, fuck– Fill me up, please, please, please…!” 

Hongjoong threw himself back into his chair, emitting a few soundless moans, before he began to let out one long groan, desperately bucking up into his closed fist, until a stream of milky, white liquid shot out.  “Fuck, I’m gonna knock you up, princess….There’s so much…” he sighed out, tossing his head back, milking his aching cock with a shaky hand, a few beads of cum spilling out onto his skin. 

The both of you grew quiet as you came down from your highs, simply panting and trying to catch your breath, still gazing at one another through your phone screens. 

You picked up your phone and brought it closer to your face, batting your lashes at him once again, whispering, “You better finish up that song and get your ass home, Joong. As much as I love watching you make a mess of yourself, that wasn’t nearly enough for me.” 

After practically melting into his chair, Hongjoong sat up and nodded his head obediently, biting his lip at the implication that the both of you would be going at it all night. He pushed some of his sweaty hair back just to let it fall into his now narrowing eyes, making sure you were looking at him when he guaranteed, “I’ll be sure to ruin you later, princess. Wait up for me, yeah?”   

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[sigh-tofm]

when you’re on your period…

… price

- offers you his big warm hand when you ask him to get the heating pad. will lie behind you all day, his hand warming your soft, bloated belly. whispers to you about this study he read that says that orgasms can alleviate period cramps. slides his hands down your panties when you agree to try. does not mind the blood.

- keeps track of all your hygiene products and makes sure everything is topped up. buys five menstrual cups because nobody has told him they are reusable.

- smiles and patiently gets out of your way when you get snappy with him. understands what pain does to people.

… gaz

- is as perceptive as his captain, but clingier. hovers a little by the bed and does not need to be asked to come lay with you.

- knows your needs and cravings better than yourself. makes sure you have sweet and salty snacks within reach. always keeps your water bottle filled and nearby. makes delicious dinner for you with leafy greens and other iron-rich foods.

- watches your comfort shows with you. laughs at all the right scenes. dries the tears on both of your faces when it’s sad. does not ever make you feel stupid for liking the shows that you like.

… soap

- gets you up and moving without making you feel rushed and forced. holds your hand while you walk and regulates himself to follow your tempo. stops whenever to watch the clouds or study a bird with you, or to let you squeeze his hand when a particularly nasty cramp gets to you.

- makes sure the bedroom has perfect conditions for you. opens the windows and puts the fan on to help you cool down, or gets an extra blanket if you’re too cold. changes the sheets if they feel too scratchy. will sleep on the floor if it means you’re more comfortable for it.

- readily offers to eat you out when you mention that orgasm study.

… ghost

- makes you tea. his knee jerk reaction when anything feels out of place is to make you tea. your nightstand accumulates tea mugs rapidly on your down days.

- dips into his own supply of heavy pain meds when your own don’t work. sits with you and strokes your hair until they kick in. lets you sleep once they do.

- showers with you, washes your hair for you and holds while you cry because you feel disgusting on your period. does not entirely understand it all. does not need to to be a supportive boyfriend.

[zwhoreo]

mommy kink luffy? 👀

ok so I don’t think luffy would ever actually use the word mommy but I think the rest of the kink can apply hehehe

nurture me - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: missing the comfort of a nurturing female figure as a child, luffy sometimes turns to you to get that feeling back. and sometimes, he wants sex

contains: mommy kink (the word mommy is never mentioned), very innocent luffy, he’s pretty sub in this one, soft dom reader

words: 2k

_______________________________

Luffy is upset today, he’s not sure why, he’s feeling this rush of some sort of unplaceable loneliness even though he isn’t alone at all, surrounded by people to love and spend time with and hug. He had fallen and broken a stack of glasses in the kitchen yesterday, and he was chastised for his clumsiness, smacked by Nami, shoved out by Sanji. He had cut his arm on the glass, nothing deep, nothing a couple bandaids from Chopper’s office couldn’t fix, but it still made him a little sad and distressed for some reason. He needed comfort but pushed it away and forgot about it.

So now he’s sitting on the bow of the ship and picking at the bandaids. He wants to go bother you, he needs some comfort, a hug from you seems to be an immediate fix for times like these. And maybe something more, he thinks, like playtime, sort of.

You’re reading a book Robin gave you, curled up on your cabin’s chair, the porthole open next to you for that crisp sea breeze. You’re delighted at those little sandal steps, your door opening, large, glittery eyes looking at you excitedly.

Luffy hops on your bed, rolling on his back and kicking his legs and reaching for you, a teasing grabbing motion with his fists. Absolutely adorable.

You lean over to take his hand, he squirms and giggles at the contact and he’s smiling so brightly.

“[naaame]…” he whines, trying to pull you to him but you pull instead, still holding his stretched arm as you sit back in the chair. He pouts and stretches his other arm out to you.

“No pulling, Luffy,” you say, gently removing one arm from your waist knowing his intention to yank you into bed.

“Please… can we please cuddle… I wanna really bad…” Luffy’s squirming again, begging, you just can’t resist him.

You set down your book, walking over to your bed and sitting by him which makes him squeal in delight and open his arms for a hug. You lay back and pull him up onto you, letting him bury his head in your chest and find a comfortable position as you pet his hair.

He likes to be nurtured. It’s a childish part of him that comes out sometimes, especially when he thinks about his old village and Ace and Sabo and Shanks, when he misses getting to play and explore all day and just be a kid. But he didn’t really have anyone back then to take care of him like this. Makino was the closest, he got a taste of the affection a mother could bring, but mostly he was just raised by himself and his brothers, and bandits, and he wasn’t really ever cuddled or held when he was young. So now you’re his person, he gets to be extra close to you and he’ll never be too much.

And usually he’s more dominant, even in his innocence and softness, he’s your captain and you’re his to take care of and keep safe, he picks you up and carries you and holds you against his chest, you’re his, he likes being in control.

But that doesn’t have to be always.

Those times like now where he paws at you and lays on you all slack like a baby, you just curl up with your arms around him and murmur comforting things in his ear. There’s those deer eyes again, searching, he’s leaning in to kiss you and you catch him halfway with his cheeks squished in your hands. Arms circle your waist needily and this poor boy has squirmed his way between your legs because he wants friction, maybe.

“Lu, hun, what do you want?” you coax gently, tracing his shoulders, you know he wants you so bad but he has to try to say what he wants if he wants something, that’s what you’re teaching him.

“Um… I dunno, I guess uh…” Luffy’s mind is cloudy, he wants your body but he doesn’t know what to ask for so when your thigh comes to naturally rest between his legs he just settles for this, at least.

You laugh lightly as he begins to grind on your leg, hips rutting, rhythmic but messy, he starts making these little whimpering noises in your ear as he rubs himself on you like a puppy in heat. You let him, hugging gently and just laying there listening.

“I… mm! I wanna suck your breasts?” He seems excited to have found words, talking casually as he continues to get himself off on your thigh, aching and growing beneath his pants. You can’t refuse him.

“Sure, hun.” This is perfect because you’re a little tired. Let your boy enjoy himself and relax with him and it’ll all be ok. And you pull off your shirt, you let him see you, and he grins before squeezing you tightly and latching on, suckling gently on your nipple while looking up at you with stars in his soft brown eyes.

“S’ good…” he growls, mouth full, nuzzling and gripping against you.

You lift him into your arms after a few minutes, when he gets teeth-y with your skin, he whines at the loss of contact with his mouth but lets you pick him up and place him in your lap, squeezing his face in your hands, giving him a caring hug.

“Luffy, baby, you want more, huh? C’mon…” You place your hand on the small of his back, rubbing his skin.

“Mmf… I wanna put my dick in you,” he says, voice in the most amount of innocence he could possibly sound with those words. You weren’t expecting this, usually he’s more innocent when you two play, when he asks for something, but you won’t complain.

You smile. You pet him lovingly, gentle praise. You kiss his cheek and then his mouth and he’s still in a teething mood so you need to pull away when he bites your lip, but you press his face into your neck because you always like biting there.

“Want some help?” you coo to him, tugging at his clothes, and he nods happily against you and makes a tiny sound.

His shirt is open, easy to slide off. Glistening warm skin meets the cool sunlight of the porthole, wave reflections, he’s so beautiful when you can see his bare shoulders. You take a moment to lean in and kiss them. And then his jeans, you have to sort of pick him up again to unbutton and remove them and his cock slaps your wrist, no underwear, you ignore your aching need to touch it and continue to take care of him, settling his twitching hips and tossing his clothes to the side.

Soft and bare, dripping with sweetness and innocence, he’s draped on you, sitting in your lap, naked and waiting to be touched in a gentle way.

Your shirt’s off. Now your jeans, your panties, Luffy starts moaning and thrusting into nothing at your scent and the feeling of your skin but you have to calm him.

“No, baby, let’s be patient ok?” You poke his cheek and he whines but just curls into you a little more, trying to wait like you’ve taught him.

You switch the positions of your legs, you’re on his lap, propped up on the bed, sort of straddling him, he’s sitting in front of you with his cock rubbing through your wetness, eyes hooded in pleasure, he’s waiting for your command because he’s yours to comfort and hold and protect right now.

“[naaame]…” he whines in such a little voice, staring up through his hair, begging.

“Move like this…” you murmur, lining up his hips so he can rub against you for a while, and get you wet. He does so in a careful way, biting his lip as he tries not to plunge within you just yet. You’re still so tired, you want lazy, careful sex. But Luffy’s the one who needs to be looked after and cared for right now. Nurture me, is what his eyes say, mind in a space so far away.

So once you’re warmed up and once Luffy’s being tortured by need and the rising and falling of his chest is pressed to you with brutal pressure, you smile and reach down to line him up yourself. He squeaks as he feels the touch of your hand down there, and the cocoon of velvet enveloping him, you can move just be gentle like I taught you, your smile says.

So he does. Instinctual thrusting fueled by pure love and appreciation, his hands reaching to grip your ass and lift you up more against him, he’s getting a little more dominant but just in an excited, playful sort of way. You hold him, you put your arms around his shoulders and breathe in his scent.

“So good, Lu, you’re doing so well…” you whisper in his ear as he works you into pulp, grabby hands, needy whines.

He likes to feel grown up but still be cared for. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing but he likes to be shown how. He likes to be cradled but to feel you so deep, his infinitely loving girlfriend who knows his needs, who would give him the world.

It comes eventually, that confusing knot in his stomach, now is the time he wants to be held the most. You squeeze him so tight and let him squirm in your arms as you carry him in coaxing gentleness through his powerful climax. He drips within you, you’ve claimed him with the comforting warmth of your body.

You make sure to pull him out and wipe him off and even in his hazy, submissive state he still makes sure to rub your hips and thighs and make sure you’re ok and nothing hurt you. “Was that good? Did I do good?” he murmurs as he squirms onto his back in your arms like a cat looking for affection.

“So good.”

Luffy’s restless now, he needs to occupy his mouth which he often does before sleep for self-soothing, and he’s going to nurse right now, curled up in your arms. So he reaches for your breasts again but that’s when you see his arm.

“Hey Lu, what’s that? Did you hurt yourself?” You lift his forearm for examination and he blushes in slight shame. Because you then say, “when did this happen? You shoulda told me!”

“Um, yesterday. I dunno… I fell and broke some glasses and I thought you’d get mad, it’s just a scratch, I’m fine.” He avoids your eyes.

“I’d never be mad at you for something like that, it’s ok, accidents happen.” You run your hand through his hair. “These bandaids aren’t fresh, we gotta get you new ones, hun…”

“N- no! Don’t leave… I don’t wanna let go!” Because he’s attached to you in a tight embrace and can’t picture a world without your arms right now.

“It’ll just be a minute-”

“Carry meee! Please, please, please-” He’s scrambling up your body as you begin to sit up so you let him. You stand up shakily because Luffy is glued to your back, arms around your shoulders and face buried in your neck.

You get bandaids from your cabinet, you have to pry Luffy off of you and let him curl up in your lap again so you can gently change clean and re-bandage his scraped arm. This protective kindness lulls Luffy, it makes him sleepy and happy and like he needs to take a long nap with you which, from the beginning, is what you were excited for. Pulling a curtain over the porthole you’re back to laying on your bed, letting Luffy drift off with his mouth on your breast, calming and grounding for both of you. His hands find yours in his dreamy state, holding on, wanting you to know how much he loves you, in a quiet and innocent way.

[stxxryvoid]

˚₊‧꒰ა Silly Things That They Do ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Genshin Impact

✧ Silly (and sometimes annoying) things that they do, but it's okay you love them anyway <3

✧ Featuring ✧ Childe, Heizou, Kazuha, Kaeya, Venti, Kaveh, and Itto x GN! Reader (Separate)

✧ Content Warnings ✧ Some swearing

✧ Childe

"Rise and shine sleepy head!" No further explanations needed.

He'll roll you up in your blankets for no apparent reason and then leave before you can escape the soft prison he put you in.

If you're going to jump on the bed he'll mf snatch the pillow and you fall on the bed itself.

When he's cooking he'll def shape the food into cute shapes.

He'd probably find something you're looking for and say he doesn't know where it is, but a while later will give it to you so you can praise him and give him a kiss.

Comes up from behind you and puts his hands over your eyes saying: "Guess who?"

Tells you to stay out of trouble when he's gone even though anything you do will never amount to the shit he does when he's working.

✧ Shikanoin Heizou

Kicks your feet under the table like he's a damn child.

Anytime he does something he expects a kiss as a reward.

He could literally open a jar you couldn't open and expect a big kiss and cuddles.

If you ask him to make you coffee he'll definitely make it!

You just won't get it unless you get up yourself because you only asked him to make it not bring it.

But if you ask him next time to bring the coffee he'll bring the whole ass coffee pot bc you didn't ask for it in a cup.

Will blame you for him waking up late on a work day when he's the one staying up late to work on cases.

Gets genuinely offended when you tell him no fried food bc it's not good for him.

He does a ">:(" and gives you one-worded responses for an hour.

He's not mad he's just the biggest tease to exist on Teyvat.

Start getting actually upset and he actually feels so bad and does anything to make it up to you.

✧ Kaedehara Kazuha

Comes up behind you without making a sound says "Hi." and scares the living daylights out of you.

If you catch him doing smth he'll use such poetic words you can't even understand to get out of the situation.

Starts spitting poetry out of nowhere.

It could be dead silent between the two of you and he gives you a romantic poem.

If he's cooking he will put food you do not like in there but hide it so well it tastes good to you.

While you're eating he'll stare at you like 🙂

Then you realized you fell victim to eating smth like brussel sprouts again.

If you're working he'll deadass show up in your office or smth.

Like how??

No notification from your coworkers and you js look up he's there.

Kazuha 10/10 horror movie killer material, silent footsteps, appears out of nowhere, unsuspecting, and has a sharp weapon

He knows so many cats like wtf

A cat comes up to him he pets it and says "Hi, cat name." AND DOES IT W SO MANY CATS??

✧ Kaeya

Okay I know I called Heizou the biggest tease but I changed my mind.

If Heizou is the king of teasing Kaeya is the all knowing, all powerful, all mighty god of teasing.

Flirts with you at the most random times.

Could be fighting some monsters he decides its the best time to try a new pick up line.

And it's always the best one's too, but he decides to save the horrendous ones for completely normal times.

He has no life.

With no cavalry to captain he can't be the cavalry captain so with nothing to do most of the time he's glued to your hip.

He'll play with your hair in front of someone no matter how many times you smack his hand away.

Claims he needs some random article of clothing on him fixed just so he can have your attention.

Y'know that thing where you bump your hip on someone to make them trip/fall over?

He does that.

If you stumble he'll act like he did nothing and turn the other way.

If you fall and it's hilarious he'll laugh before helping you up.

But if you fall and hurt yourself he'll actually feel bad and help you up and make sure you're okay. He's at your beck and call for the rest of the day.

He needs attention.

It's like taking care of a big cat.

✧ Venti

Also does the hip bump thing.

If you go to find him after he does some drinking he could be in the most random ass position ever.

Laying back down legs up against a building.

Passed out on some hay in a crate.

Sleeping under a bench.

You can't even be surprised anymore.

His feet are actually icebergs.

When he takes off them stocking things he puts his feet on you and your body temperature decreases by 20 degrees.

Styles his hair and yours in the most random ways.

If you wear makeup he took it once and ended up looking like a barbie doll got into a street fight and lost.

Sings you songs about the most random shit.

He turned milk and cookies into a song.

Meowing back at cats is normal.

But he barks back at dogs and really puts the enthusiasm in it..

✧ Kaveh

Plays with his food.

Moves it around on his plate to form shapes before he actually eats it.

Sometimes is drinking while he draws things and was painting once and ended up drinking the paint water on accident.

He spat it out and started rubbing his tongue while you and Al haitham were like 🤨

Thought all he loses are his keys?

Nah everything he's touched has been lost at least once.

He's still looking for some things that vanished into thin air.

He sometimes talks in his sleep.

Mostly about you, cats, dogs, and food.

He's actually so knowledgeable on beauty products??

You could be buying something for skin care and he snatches it and says "No."

"Don't buy this..." and yaps on for a good minute.

Then he'll go and pick up smth else for you and buy it for you and you're js left there shocked.

✧ Arataki Itto

This man is the epitome of silly.

He also cant whisper for shit.

Do NOT shit talk someone to him all of Inazuma will know within 30 minutes.

He has so many spare combs.

A backup comb for his comb a back-backup comb for the backup comb a back-back-backup comb for the back-backup comb and so on...

Don't give him hot sauce. Just don't.

Do NOT mess up his hair. He'll be ":(" the entire day.

He knows about lots of good food.

Can he cook any of this good food?

Hell no.

If you cook him anything he'll be so happy and eats every last crumb, would probably eat the plate to get all the macromolecules of the food.

(If he even knew what a macromolecule is)

If you make him something it's treasured forever and the only fingerprints on it are yours and his.

Definitely owns a diary somewhere.

-Stxxry