#I need someone to tell me I'm not the only one that thinks this is messed up

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Urgent Call

"I need your phone."

Tim looks up from his laptop. The boy in front of him looks like he's been dragged to Hell a week ago and just made it back: smudges of soot on his face, his not-so-white t-shirt smelling of smoke, and a nasty looking burn on his hand that he somehow doesn't even pay attention to. Tim thinks back to his mental list of 'Rogues currently on the loose', but it's only Ivy and Harley (who don't even count anymore), and Penguin, who is not known for setting things on fire.

"I can call 911 for you, if you want?" He offers, because this is still Gotham. Despite the fact that a slightly scorched guy casually walking into a coffee shop is not something out of the ordinary here, he's not giving his phone to strangers.

The guy grimaces and starts aggressively rummaging through his pockets.

"No, thanks, ACAB and all that, and they won't do shit here anyway," he says, and then pulls a handful of tangled golden jewelry — rings, chains, necklaces with various gems in them — from his pocket and places it on the table in front of Tim. "I need your phone," he repeats.

Tim stares. First, at the gold — these things look antique, and his parents were archeologists, he knows what he's talking about — then, back at the guy. He looks... ordinary, sans the dirt and smell.

But the burn on his hand looks significantly more healed than it did just a minute ago.

Thankfully, Tim has already had his cup of morning coffee. Which means he is thinking very rationally when he does get his phone out of his pocket and hands it to the guy, just to see what he does next.

"Thanks," the guy grins at him, plucking the phone out of Tim's hand and unlocking it. Tim's eyebrows shoot up — there's a password there! — but the stranger is already dialing in a number and pressing the phone to his ear.

It takes less than a second before someone evidently picks up, and the guy starts talking.

"I have less than three minutes before the phone dies, so listen very carefully. Etrigan is fine, Jason is not, Klarion is still being a bitch. Dora won't help anymore, so you're on your own until Sam makes it there with the staff. I'm in Gotham because, apparently, mazes and I don't mix well together, so if you could summon me back, that'd be cool," he says, a look of mild annoyance on his face.

Tim is back to staring at him. He recognizes some of the names, and, well, one could have been an oddity, two a coincidence, but three is a pattern.

"The fuck you mean you can't, I gave you the incantation two months ago!" The guy raises his voice, his foot tapping on the floor in frustration. "Do you think I just go around giving my summons to people for shits and giggles? Like, yeah, have a spell that unleashes a cosmic being of immeasurable power, use it as a bookmark!"

This interaction, despite Tim only hearing one side of it, gets more and more alarming with every word.

But then, the boy suddenly straightens up and stills, his eyes flashing bright, unpleasantly familiar green.

"You what?" He asks, his voice slipping from just angry to quietly enraged hiss, "Sold it to whom?!" But, before he gets an answer, Tim's phone makes a thin, tiny buzzing sound, and the guy takes it off his ear, looking at the screen.

"No, no-no-no," he mutters, shaking it like that would make it work. To no avail, though: the phone screen flashes a few times and goes black. The guy curses. At least Tim thinks it's a curse because he doesn't understand a word, but the stranger's face and intonation are telling.

"Useless fucking moron of a human, I swear I'm going to drown you in cow shit once this is over," he switches to English, dropping the phone on the table right by the small pile of gold, "I'll bargain your pathetic soul from everyone you've ever dealt with and give it to the Observants, and maybe, after a few millenia of endless Council paperwork, I'll have mercy and sell it back to Lucifer and watch him fry you on a skillet."

...Whoever the boy is, Tim absolutely refuses to ever piss him off, okay. That's an impressive threat to even make, not to mention being able to go through with it.

"Do you need help?" He asks cautiously. If he is getting his context clues right, this is something that involves JLD, and maybe John Constantine specifically since Tim doesn't know any other man who is a magic user, sold his soul numerous times, would care about Etrigan's wellbeing, and could invoke this kind of murderous intent.

The boy looks back at him, his eyes back to normal blue.

"Huh? Oh, no, I doubt this can be helped," he waves Tim off and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Sorry about the phone, but, unless you have a way to yeet me across the globe so I end up in London in the next twenty minutes..." he shrugs, smiling in that helpless 'nothing you can do here' way.

Tim picks up his phone. It's dead, wholly and completely, won't even turn on when he tries.

He really, really shouldn't do that. This is definitely none of his business, and very much out of his capabilities and area of expertise.

But he thinks about the zeta-tube in the Cave.

"Actually," he says, and the guy's eyes snap back to him, a bewildered sort of surprise on his face.

[nanamisgirly]

your dilf doesn't need 'perfect'　ྀི　

“w-wait—” you were panting, legs wrapped around his hips where dilf!nanami straddled you on the countertop. you pull back just as his mouth dragged open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

you don't remember how exactly you ended up there, how things turned from soft touches over dinner to a heavy make out session—tongue sliding between your lips, big hands pressing you against his chest. 

it's been months of holding back for both of you—resuming your relation to slow touches, soft kisses, and ‘no pressure sweetheart’ every time things started getting heavy. since you weren't experienced and kind of…scared, dilf!nanami suggested waiting til you're ready. and you've been grateful for it, even when you returned home some night aching and soaked from just making out with him.

and maybe all the courage you gathered to tug him in by his tie tonight and kiss him like you were desperate for it, had drained from your veins the moment you felt one of his hand sliding up your thigh and the other slipping under your shirt—hot, rough, calloused.

“did i go too far?” he asked, one hand still under your shirt, fingers hovering just under the band of your bra, not moving an inch. “it's okay. you don't need to explain. we can stop, sweetheart.” his lips were swollen—covered with spit. his eyes glassy and you could feel the weight of his cock pressing against your shorts.

“no—! no… i want to,” you blurted out too quickly, voice overlapping his, desperate not to be misunderstood. but even as you said it, you couldn't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes, so you turn your head, letting your hands rest on his broad shoulders as you continue, 

“it's just…” you exhaled, shame blooming fast in your chest. “i'm not confident about. . y'know.” you gesture vaguely toward your boobs. “they look nice in a bra and—uh…you've probably seen better. i know they look big in a bra, but they don't, well…stay up. they're soft, and…” your voice tightens. “i just…i've read things. about guys saying they were disappointed. or didn't want to even see them during the act, unless they were covered—” you laugh nervously, voice cracking. “it's so embarrassing. i-i didn't want you to see them and think—think they're…ugly.”

the silence that followed felt unbearable.

it only makes your anxiety grow and you feel so dumb for talking about it, maybe you should just have stopped and that's it…because nanami didn't move an inch since your little monologue, his honey eyes still trying to catch your gaze. 

your stomach drops. you start to shift trying to get off the counter, anything to escape mortification. “look, i'm sorry,” you say, heart pounding, eyes glassy. “i-i shouldn't have brought it up, i—umh—it's ok. i just thought that'd be nice to tell you before hand and huh…fuck i ruined everything didn't i?”

that's when you feel his hands coming to your hips, pinning you in place on the countertop. you gasp as he presses his cock against your core harder than ever—twitching with need.

when you looked up, his eyes had darkened. his brows were furrowed, jaw tight, emotion bleeding into every sharp line of his face. “that,” he said flatly, “is the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard.”

your breath hitched.

“i'm not a boy with a warped idea of what women are supposed to look like.” he leaned in, cupping your jaw to be sure your eyes stay locked onto his. “i'm a grown man. you think i'm painfully hard, grinding against you, shaking, because i'm waiting for something ‘perfect’? sweetheart, i'm here, aching because it's you. all of you that i want.”

his voice was low, frayed. barely holding together. “let me very clear, sweetheart, i'm going to lose my mind when i see them, i will drop to my knees and thank the gods for putting someone as sweet as you.”

your lips part, trying to breathe through the whirl of embarrassment and affection and…arousal.

“ken—”

“does this—” he rasped, grabbing your wrist and guiding your trembling fingers down to the thick, pulsing shape of his cock straining in his slacks, “feel like someone who's going to be disappointed?”

you whimpered, your smaller fingers squeezing his boner. 

“f-fuck…” he shuddered. “if you want to stop,” he breathed, forehead falling to your shoulder. “i'll stop. if you want to wait, we'll wait. another month. another year. i don't care. anything you want, for you to be comfortable.”

but his voice cracked at the end—like he was hanging by a thread. you felt it too, his body coiled tight, like a beast barely leashed.

“you're too nice, ken.” you say teary-eyed, half laughing, half melting.

“well, k-keep squeezing me like that and i'm afraid i won't be nice any longer.” he groaned, lip brushing your neck.

your thighs wrapped tighter around him. “you can take it off,”

his head snapped up. “you sure?” his gaze held yours as his fingers brushed the hem of your shirt again, and when you nodded, “arms up, sweets,” he said softly, and you obeyed.

when he tosses delicately your shirt to the side, skilled fingers quickly find your bra and unclip it, oh very so slowly.

when your bra hit the floor, everything held still. like the world paused long enough for nanami to lose his mind quietly. his eyes dragged up, heavy-lidded and wrecked. one big hand came up—trembling—cupping your breast with a war raging in his mind : should i worship or ruin them?

“sweets,” he breathed, thumbing over one of your nipple, “they're perfect. so fucking perfect i feel like i'm hallucinating.”

[sidemari]

• After Dark •

A NSFW compilation of short texts (not so short) about their kinks. This could also be called "1 character, 1 kink".

Characters included: Childe, Diluc Ragnvindr, Dottore, Kaeya Alberich, Kamisato Ayato, Ningguang, Scaramouche, Wriothesley and Zhongli [separately] x Fem/AFAB/GN!Reader 

TW: Aphrodisiacs; BDSM dynamics; bondage; brat taming; breeding kink; consensual non-con; creampie; DD/LG; dirty talk; edging; exhibitionism; fingering; masturbation; oral sex (F/M receiving); overstimulation; praise kink; sub/dom dynamics; vibrators; unprotected sex. Let me know if I missed any.

WC: 10k+ (all of the stories together, of course).

Forgive me for any mistakes, I'm exhausted, and I won't read this giant post over again for the next few weeks, lol.

Childe 

Consensual non-con. (Fem!Reader) 

You were lying on the sheets, your wrists tied above your head with a bow he had tied himself — tight enough to keep the fantasy alive, but soft enough not to hurt you.

“Look what we have here…” Tartaglia’s voice sounded deep and theatrical, as if he were playing a character. He was looking down at you with a wild glint in his eyes, the crooked smile of someone who was having fun — but with his heart pounding with desire and zeal for you. You squirmed, trying hard to look scared, even though you knew that was exactly what he wanted.

“P-Please… Don’t do this…” You whispered, trembling on purpose, playing the role perfectly.

“You should know that you can’t tease someone like me and still get away with it, princess…” He growled, pulling your legs to the edge of the bed. The way his eyes bored into yours, even when he was playing his role, was still full of adoration. “It’s too late to regret it now.”

The sheets under you were damp with some of the essence that insisted on seeping from you, due to your anticipation. Your nipples were hard beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown, and he noticed every reaction — every little sign that you wanted this as much as he did. 

“You’re so wet…” He commented as he slid his fingers between your legs. “You’re begging me with that little body, even though you’re saying ‘no’ with your mouth.” He leaned in and whispered against your ear, “But I know your body better than anyone, my love. I know when it’s desperate for me.”

“P-Please, don’t do this to m-me… I’m… so sorry for—” But he didn’t let you finish. He thrust into you hard, in one motion, eliciting a scream from you that was a mix of shock and pleasure. You arched your body, pulling at the sheets, feeling the heat rise like an overwhelming wave.

“Beg me.” He ordered, his voice hoarse with lust. “Tell me you need it. That you can’t live without my cock ravishing your cunt.”

“Ajax, please, use me… Fuck me until I can’t think anymore…” You moaned, your eyes moist, no longer from pretense, but from real, deep pleasure. His hips moved with rhythm and strength, your name escaping between his lips. The act had already given way to surrender — the game was exciting, but what made it all intense was the trust between you.

He leaned in, his red hair wet with sweat, his eyes fixed on yours.

“Is everything okay?” He asked softly, breaking character for a moment, just to be sure.

You nodded with a lascivious smile. “I can still take much more, love…”

And he provided that to you, until your legs were trembling, until your eyes watered with pleasure, until your voice broke. And when it was all over, he released you with loving hands, kissing each mark and scratch, wrapping you in his arms as if you were fragile. 

“It was perfect.” He whispered. “You’re perfect.”

Diluc Ragnvindr

Bondage. (Fem!Reader) 

The flames in the fireplace cast warm shadows over the stone walls of the room. The unmistakable aroma of wine and wood filled the room, and the silence was broken only by the soft crackling of the fire. You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart racing, your eyes attentive to Diluc’s every move as he walked back towards you. 

He looked even more imposing under the golden light, his red hair loose over his shoulders and an expression that mixed concentration with restrained desire. In his hands, he held the red satin strips that you had timidly suggested the night before. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked in a low, husky voice, kneeling before you. His hands caressed your thighs gently, reverently, as if preparing the ground for something deeper. “I only want this if you want it too.” You nodded, your face hot, your breath shallow.

“Yes. I do. Just… just take care of me.” A small smile appeared on his lips — a rare, intimate smile that made your chest tighten. 

“Always.”

Patiently, Diluc led you to the center of the bed. His kisses came slow, intense, as he took his time to undress you, piece by piece, as if each button and strap were a ritual. When you were naked beneath the fine linen sheets, he pulled away just enough to tie your wrists with the satin, crossing them over your head and securing them firmly to the headboard.

“Let me know if it’s too tight.” He said, caressing the skin of your arms, his dark eyes assessing your expression every second. You felt the knot tighten securely, but it didn’t hurt. It was firm… comforting, even. You trusted him. You always had.

Diluc lay back down beside you, his fingers gliding over the curves of your bound body, his eyes exploring every detail as if he were memorizing the landscape of the woman he loved. He leaned in, kissing your collarbone, your jaw, until your lips parted reflexively.

“You’re so beautiful like this…” He murmured against your skin. “Surrendered, only mine.”

His words made something inside you melt, even more so when his hand went down between your legs and found you already wet, hot and pulsing.

“Already so wet… I’ve barely touched you.” He chuckled softly, a deep, satisfied sound, before pressing his thumb against your clit and making slow, teasing circles. Your hips moved instinctively, but he held them back with his other hand, holding you in place.

“No.” The word was spoken tenderly, but full of command. “I’m the one in control here.”

You bit your lip, arching your back with a restrained moan. Tied up and exposed, each touch felt more intense. Diluc knew that. He knew your body like no one else. His fingers danced between torture and pleasure, making you writhe under the delicate control he masterfully exercised. His breathing was also heavier, his dark eyes fixed on your face, capturing every reaction. He alternated soft caresses with firmer touches, sometimes leaning in to kiss your breasts, sometimes whispering praises in your ear: 

“You endure so much for me… so obedient…” 

“You’re driving me crazy like this…” 

“I need to hear you beg, love.” 

You felt yourself getting close. Your body trembled, your muscles contracted, your orgasm building like an inevitable storm. But then, just as the wave began to rise, he stopped. He removed his fingers, went back to kissing your neck, leaving you on the edge — dragging your pleasure with refinement and intention. 

“D-Diluc, please…” You whimpered, your eyes watering, your body arching toward him. “Don’t stop…”

“You haven’t reached your limit yet,” He replied quietly, his voice low and husky, his fingertips tracing your abdomen. “I want you to need this. To really beg for me.” You panted, your body too hot and sensitive. Each pause was sweet torture, a flame that burned without consuming — until the desire became something deeper, more urgent. And then, when you finally moaned his name, begging without pride or shame, he smiled.

“Good girl.” He positioned himself between your legs, kissing you hungrily, his entire body pressing against yours. The heat of his skin, his weight, the firmness with which he held your hips — everything about him was absolute. When he finally entered you, slow, deep, your body cried out in relief. It was as if everything fell into place — as if the universe were spinning on its axis again. He groaned softly, his lips against your neck, his hips moving with a rhythm that was torturous, but felt so good.

“You’re perfect. So tight… You take me so well…” His voice was hoarse from pleasure. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this… about you, trapped, moaning my name…”

The restraints kept you from touching him, but that only made everything more intense. You felt vulnerable and adored at the same time. His thrusts became harder, but the bed creaked in protest as he lost himself in you.

“Look at me.” He pulled your face with one hand. “I want to see your eyes when you come for me.” And you obeyed. There was no other choice, no other destiny, no other name to say but his as your body shattered with pleasure — the orgasm ripping through every inch of you hot, overwhelming. Diluc continued for a few more seconds, until he spilled himself inside you, trembling, his face hidden in your neck.

When your breathing returned to normal, he carefully untied your wrists, kissing every red mark left by the satin. His fingers caressed your arms, your hair, your waist.

“You were wonderful,” He murmured, pulling you to his chest. “Thank you for trusting me.” You smiled, tired, satisfied, whole. In the flames dancing in the fireplace, everything seemed safe. Everything was love.

Aphrodisiacs. (Fem!Reader) 

You were sitting on the couch in Diluc’s private library, wrapped in a light robe, your body still tingling from the wine he had brought. But it wasn’t just any wine. It tasted exotic, sweet and spicy — with something that made you feel warm from the first sip.

Your heart beated faster, your skin felt more sensitive, and every glance Diluc made in your direction made your breath falter. He was there, standing in front of the bookshelf, watching you with those intense red eyes, like embers about to catch fire. There was a small smile on the corner of his lips — a smile that betrayed that he knew exactly what he had done. 

“This wine…” You began, your voice lower than you expected. “There’s something more to it, isn’t there?” Diluc approached slowly, his hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes fixed on yours. 

“It’s a special batch. Made from a rare variety of fruits grown in the fertile soil of Sumeru. Some say it… stimulates the senses.” He stopped in front of you, leaning down just enough to touch your chin with two fingers. “Do you feel it?”

You nodded, your lips parted, the heat growing in your lower belly like a fire slowly spreading. He gently removed the robe from your shoulders, exposing your skin to the warm air of the room.

“You look so beautiful like this… all flushed, breathless…” He knelt between your legs, his fingers sliding up your bare thigh. “Sensitive.” His lips brushed against your skin, each kiss sending electric waves to the core of your body. It was as if each touch of his tripled in intensity. The wine, or whatever it was, made your body beg for more — made you writhe under the softest caresses, yearning for something that had yet to come.

He pulled your legs up to his shoulders with ease and buried his face between your thighs, his hot tongue sliding inside you with precision, firmness, and calculated pleasure. It was almost cruel, the way he used his mouth — as if he studied your reaction to every movement. You moaned, your hands going to his hair out of reflex, but he held them with one of his large hands, keeping you in place.

“Stay still,” He murmured against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

And you tried. But it was impossible not to writhe, not to moan, not to beg. The heat was too much. Your body throbbed, hungry, desperate for release. And when you were finally on the edge, arching your back and gripping the seat under you, Diluc stopped. His red eyes rose to yours, hungry, and a little cruel.

He stripped off his own clothes, revealing the strength contained beneath his formal attire, his muscles defined in the firelight. When he lay down on top of you, the heat of your two bodies met like a spark in gunpowder. He entered you slowly, filling you completely, and you both gasped in unison.

“You’re… tight,” he whispered through his teeth. “Like you’ve been waiting for me for days.” His movements began slowly, deeply, and you felt every inch of him as if it were the first time. The aphrodisiac made your body vibrate, your skin tingle, your senses plunge into a pleasurable torpor. It was impossible to control your moans, the way your body trembled beneath him, the way your hips sought more. Diluc bent down, kissing your neck, your shoulder, biting carefully. 

“Are you this sensitive because of me? Because I filled you with that wine, knowing what I would do to you later?” The answer escaped like a sob of pleasure. 

“Yes…” He increased his pace, his movements more intense, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the muffled room. His hands held your waist firmly, keeping you in place as your body was taken deeper, faster, harder.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against your mouth. “Only mine. I want you like this… writhing in pleasure, calling my name, begging for more.” You couldn’t think, speak or breathe properly. The pleasure came like violent waves, and when it arrived, it was overwhelming. Your body arched, your eyes rolled back, your moans were lost in Diluc’s mouth as he also spilled himself inside you, with a low, hoarse grunt, full of pleasure.

He stayed there for a while, still on top of you, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair. Then, he pulled you to his chest, covering the two of you with a blanket.

“Next time,” He said with a satisfied smile, “I’ll use a smaller dose. Or maybe not.”

Overstimulation. (Fem!Reader) 

The night had started slowly. Calm kisses, hands exploring patiently, and tender whispers exchanged under the soft light that entered through the mansion’s windows. Diluc was always meticulous with everything he did, and with you it was no different. He made love like someone who appreciates a rare wine — slowly, savoring your every reaction, every sigh.

But that night, there was something more. A glint in his eyes, something hungry, that made your entire body react even before the first most intimate touch. He wanted more — and he wanted you to feel more.

Your eyes met his for a moment, and all you could do was nod, already feeling the heat begin to pulse in your belly. Diluc smiled — not that gentle smile of his usual, but a slower one, full of dangerous promises.

The sheets were rumpled beneath you, your hair spread across the pillow as he settled himself between your legs again. You had already gotten there — not once, but twice. Your body was trembling, sensitive, a little fragile under the touch of his hands… but still hungry.

“Look how wet you still are for me,” He whispered, sliding two fingers inside you, slowly, almost reverently. You gasped, your body reacting with small spasms, as if you were on edge — and you were.

“Diluc…” Your voice was broken, pleading, but he just smiled and lay back down between your thighs. The first touches of his tongue were almost unbearable. Your skin reacted with small tremors, the pleasure coming fast, too aggressive, as if every nerve was screaming with the accumulated intensity. You tried to close your legs, instinctively, but he held them firmly.

“Don’t run away now, my dear,” He said in an almost serious tone, looking at you with his red eyes burning with desire. “You can handle it. I know you can.”

And he went back to licking, slow and deep, exploring you with the precision that only he had. His hands held your thighs open, pinning you to the bed as if he wouldn’t let you escape for even a second. Your head threw back on the pillow, moans escaping loudly, uninhibited, because you could no longer control anything.

It was too much. Everything was too much. His mouth, the heat, the perfect and cruel rhythm, the feeling of being consumed entirely. Your entire body trembled, and when the orgasm arrived — a third, overwhelming one — he didn’t even give you time to breathe.

“Diluc, please… I… I can’t take it…” You whimpered, almost sobbing, your body contracting as if you were running away and searching for more at the same time.

“Of course you can,” He murmured, his fingers now replacing his mouth. Two firm fingers, thrusting in and out of you at a torturous pace, while his other hand caressed your clit with soft, rhythmic circular strokes. “You’re so good for me… you always give me everything.”

You whimpered fearlessly, shamelessly — your moans mixing with disjointed words, your eyes watering. Each wave of pleasure was more intense than the last, each one stealing a piece of your air, your strength. And yet… you didn’t want him to stop.

Diluc was visibly aroused by your surrender. His eyes were glued to your body, to the way you trembled and moaned and begged. He climbed on top of you, pressing your body against his, and aligned himself with your entrance again — hot, hard, hungry.

“One more,” He whispered against your mouth, his lips crashing to yours in a searing kiss. “Just one more for me, love…” And when he entered you, everything went blank for a second. Your body, which already seemed about to collapse. He moved with force, with need, each thrust deep and accurate. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, his moans mixing with yours as he held your face, his eyes fixed on yours. 

Your entire body exploded in pleasure once more, with such intensity that tears escaped your eyes. You moaned loudly, your whole body arching, your hands gripping the sheets as if you were going to come undone.

Diluc hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck when he came too, with a hoarse moan. His body shuddered against yours, and then everything was quiet for a moment — just your hearts beating fast, your breathless, sweaty, and exhausted.

He kissed your forehead gently, running his fingers through your heat-soaked hair.

You smiled against his chest, your body still trembling, but completely sated.

Dottore 

Sleepy sex. (Fem!Reader)

The lab finally fell silent. Vials still pulsed with faint blue glows, remnants of some unstable mixture he had decided to leave for the next day. For the first time in hours — maybe days — Dottore was without his mask and his impenetrable posture. Just a man with heavy eyes and slow breathing, slumped on the couch in the next room, his shirt half open and his hair still a little messy from the last time he ran his hands through it.

You approach him silently. He knows it’s you even before he opens his eyes, and he murmurs something hoarse, low, almost swallowed by fatigue.

“You should be sleeping…” But his arms open anyway, as if his body were defying its own order.

When you lie down next to him, he immediately pulls you onto his lap, burying his face in your neck as if he were trying to hide from the world. There’s something curious there — he seems more fragile than you’re used to seeing. The defenses that always make him so hard to read were now slowly melting away in the heat of your skin.

“You calm me down.” He confesses softly, between warm kisses on your shoulder. His voice is still slurred, half-sleepy, but the desire… that was already starting to boil beneath the surface. His hands slide down your thighs more slowly than usual, as if he were too lazy to let go of his control — but also without the slightest desire to resist you. Each touch of his is a little more needy than technical. You see him without any armor, and yet so sure of himself, even tired.

Your lips meet slowly. It’s a lazy, slurred kiss… but full of that typical Dottore intensity. He murmurs against your mouth:

“Do you want this now?” And when you respond with a whispered yes, he sighs as if he already knows. “Of course you do. You always know how to make me weak…”

The excitement grows between kisses and touches exchanged in silence, almost respecting the tiredness that weighs on both bodies. Still, there is something delicious in losing yourself like this — in bodies intertwined without haste, in moans muffled by the pillow, in panting breaths that mix.

Dottore’s surrendered more than ever. With half-open eyes, he observes your every reaction, even as he moans softly as he feels you mount him with the calm of someone who knows all the shortcuts to your pleasure. His hands hold your hips, sometimes tightly, sometimes just caressing you with his fingertips, as if he wanted to prolong that moment as much as possible.

You move your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him, feeling how his body trembles beneath yours.

“You’re driving me crazy…” He says, his voice deep and broken.

“Then go crazy with me.” You reply. And he does exactly that.

There, between the rumpled sheets and the drowsy smell of experiments and desire, Dottore lets himself go. Cumming with you on top of him is almost cathartic, as if his own body were thanking you for letting him come undone like that — tired, vulnerable, but satisfied.

Then, he keeps you there, lying on his chest, fingers drawing circles on your spine. The drowsiness is now real, deep… but in the midst of the torpor, he still says with an almost choked voice:

“You are the only experiment I never want to end.”

Kaeya Alberich 

You being on top. (Fem!Reader)  

He loves to tease. You know that. Just look at him, with that crooked smile and his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. But behind the sharp words and calculated charm, there is something else — something that only you know.

It is the Kaeya who moans softly when you hold his chin firmly and tell him to stay still and obey. It is the Kaeya who shudders when you push him against the bed and ride him at your own pace, making sure to control every moan, every sigh, every tremor of his body.

“Are you that sensitive already?” You ask, feigning innocence as you move over him, slowly burying his cock deep inside you, staying there for a few seconds, grinding your hips against his, before starting the movements all again. He bites his lip, his eyes moist with pleasure — that pleasure that burns in his chest, that almost hurts because it feels so good.

“You’re going to kill me, love… I can’t take it—”

“Yes, you will. You’ll take it because I want you to.” And he obeys. Always.

He loves seeing you on top — literally and emotionally. He loves when you hold his wrists against the mattress and straddle him with a sweet, dangerous smile on your lips. He loves feeling his entire body begging for release, while you deny it, only to see him begging for more.

“Touch me… Please, just a little—” His voice breaks, choking, and he turns his face away, ashamed of his own weakness. But you hold his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Or else… At least let me touch you…” His hands struggle against yours, winning and lifting one of them to touch your breast, squeezing it devotedly. You pull his hand away, preventing him from touching your body under the threat that you wouldn’t let him cum if he did.

“Look how beautiful you are like this… Whimpering and almost crying just because I’m giving you pleasure in my own way.” The moan that escapes him is almost a sob. A muffled sound, drenched in emotion and desire. You don't need to do anything else — just exist, and he's already surrendered.

“Can I?” He bit his lip, trying to hold your hips only to have you slap his hands away.

“Can you what? Use your words, Alberich.” Heavens, iit was so good to see him like this, escaping his dominant and sharp personality.

“C-Can I cum? I'm so close, p-please…” Your movements became faster and your own hands guided his so that one of them stimulated your clit while the other squeezed one of your breasts, teasing your nipple every now and then. That was your way of saying — without words — that he could cum. And he did, becoming a whimpering mess under you.

“Remind me to tease you more often if you're going to treat me like this.” He murmured, before pulling you off of him so that you two could switch positions. “Now I need some revenge, right?”

Bondage. (Fem!Reader) 

You were there, your wrists tied above your head, your back against the mattress, your body exposed and heated by his voice. Kaeya was an expert at seduction, but with you… he sometimes left a little teasing aside, just to show how much he knew what he was doing.

“Don’t worry, love,” He whispered, adjusting the tie on your wrists with surprising care. “If you want me to stop, just say so. But something tells me you won’t.”

The fabric he used to restrain you was soft, allowing it to be firm enough to impede most of your movements. His kisses spread like slow fire — down your neck, against your collarbone, across the curve of your breasts. Your eyes returned to his for a second, and Kaeya gave you that mischievous and affectionate smile, his fingers sliding between your legs, teasing you just enough to make you gasp.

“Look at you… You’re already so ready, and I barely touched you.” His fingers penetrated your folds, curving to reach your g-spot with ease and mastery. It was almost as if he had memorized your body: every curve, every sensitive spot. Teasing was a game he mastered. 

Then he bent down and devoured you with his mouth while his fingers didn't stop their movements. His tongue lapped at you with a precision that made you writhe, tied up, completely helpless in the face of the pleasure he administered with dedication.

"Stay still for me, darling," He murmured against your sex, his dark blue eyes fixed on yours. "Let me take care of everything." And you let him. 

The world was reduced to his hands, his mouth, the weight of his body on yours. He made you ask — not beg, because he knew the difference. He wanted to see you surrendered, but with pride, surrendered to him because you trusted him, not because you were forced. And that made him crazy with desire. 

When he finally entered you, your moans mingled with his, muffled by deep kisses. The thrusts were firm, constant, followed by sweet and dirty words in equal measure.

"Just like that… You're mine, all mine. I'm going to remind you of that every time you cum around me." And you both came, strong and overwhelming, the waves of pleasure washing over your bodies. He released you afterwards, with gentle hands, worried eyes, covering you with kisses and caresses.

"Did I tie you up too tightly?" He asked, caressing your cheek affectionately.

"No, I like it when you do that." You kissed the corner of his mouth. "Can we go again?"

"Always."

Aphrodisiacs. (Fem!Reader) 

You didn’t know exactly what he had put in that wine — but you knew he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want. Kaeya was a tease, but he loved you. He loved the way you trusted him even when your eyes were clouded with desire, even when your body trembled for more.

“Just a touch of something special,” He whispered against your lips, holding the glass that was still between his fingers. “Something to... ignite what’s already burning.”

The drink tasted sweet, almost fruity, but the effect was immediate: your skin tingled, every heartbeat seemed to echo between your legs, and Kaeya’s presence, with his scent, his smile, and his cool fingers against your warm skin, became unbearably addictive. 

He noticed the effect, of course he did. He sat behind you, pulling you onto his lap calmly, his chest against your back, his hands traveling over your body, mapping it with care and intention.

“It’s hot, hm? It’s the aphrodisiac... But it’s also me.” He chuckled softly, kissing the side of your neck. “Your body knows who it wants.” 

You moaned softly when his hands reached your breasts, squeezing them gently, his thumbs playing with your nipples through your thin clothing. Your hips moved unintentionally, seeking friction, relief — and Kaeya guided you with pleasure.

“You’re sensitive... So beautiful like this. I could make you cum with a touch.” 

He laid you down with all the care in the world, removing each piece of clothing with lingering kisses. His fingers stimulated your sex just enough to make you shiver, and he smiled, fascinated by the intensity of your reaction.

The aphrodisiac pulsed in your blood like fire, and Kaeya enjoyed every second — with patience, with precision, with desire. His touch was the final dose: you came with just his fingers and tongue, your entire body arching in response.

“That’s it...” He whispered, between kisses on your belly, moving up to your lips. “I want to make you come like this again and again.” And he really did.

With his body pressed against yours, his eyes fixed on yours, Kaeya penetrated you slowly, moaning with the pleasure of being inside you — and feeling how hot, tight, desperate you were. You scratched his back, and he moaned back, asking for more.

“It’s my fault,” He murmured with a dirty smile. “I left you like this... and now I’m going to fix it.” 

Overstimulation. (Fem!Reader) 

He had already made you cum once. Then twice. And now your body felt like it was about to collapse under his every new touch.

“Kaeya… P-Please…” You moaned, your voice broken by the excess of pleasure, by the tremors that ran through your open legs, still exposed to him.

But he didn’t stop.

His tongue moved slowly over your clit, as if savoring your every reaction, every involuntary spasm, every breathless sob that escaped your lips.

“You can still take more, can’t you?” He asked in a low voice, his lips wet with your essence, his eyes half-closed and hungry. “Your body is begging me even if your mouth says otherwise.”

You tried to close your legs, but his arms were firm, keeping them apart. Kaeya was gentle, but determined. The pleasure was already unbearable — and yet, you wanted more. 

“You look so beautiful when you crumble like that,” He whispered, before lapping at you again more firmly, his fingers sliding inside you with ease, curling at the exact spot that made you gasp. Your back arched once more, the orgasm ripping through your body with force. He felt it and smiled, because he knew there was more to come.

“How many times can I make you cum before you pass out in my arms?” He murmured against your skin, kissing your inner thigh, his fingers still inside you, moving slowly, as if he was testing the limits of your sensitivity. 

You whimpered, struggling weakly, your body already too sensitive, your clit throbbing, your mind clouded by so much pleasure.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” He whispered, moving up to your lips and kissing you tenderly. “You’re doing so well...” Kaeya entered you slowly, feeling how you trembled, how your body pulsed around him, completely surrendered. He moaned against your mouth, pleasure consuming him too. 

“Let me take you to the edge… Just one more time.” He asked, his voice choking with desire and affection. “I’ll take care of you later, I promise.”

And you let him. Because there, even in the midst of the chaos of absolute pleasure, Kaeya was your safe haven — even when he made you forget your own name with yet another orgasm that made you see stars.

Kamisato Ayato 

Bondage. (Fem!Reader)

You had lost count of how many times Ayato had told you that he loved seeing you surrendered to him. But there was something in the way he said it — with that serene smile, his clear eyes fixed on yours — that made everything inside you warm. With him, even submission was wrapped in elegance and reverence. And that night, the touch of the silk tying your wrists only confirmed that.

The softness of the sheets contrasted with the gentle tension of the ribbons that held your arms above your head, firmly on the back of the bed. Your legs, equally spread and immobilized with delicacy, made you feel vulnerable... and deeply desired.

Ayato was kneeling between your legs, impeccable even in that intimate moment. No part of him seemed out of control — everything was calculated, refined, even the way he ran his fingers through the ties to check if they were tight enough without hurting your skin.

“You trust me, don’t you?” He asked softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your lips sweetly.

“Of course I do.” You replied, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Good girl.” He whispered with a crooked smile that made your stomach turn. “Then let me guide you tonight.” His hands were as gentle as they were firm. He began exploring your skin with light touches, trailing his fingers along the curves of your body, slowly moving downward. He kissed each spot patiently, with a silent adoration that made your skin shiver from head to toe. And then he stopped, observing your bound body as if it were the most precious of works of art.

“You look so beautiful like this... exposed just for me.” He said in a low tone, almost like a prayer. “Every sigh you take, every shiver... it’s all mine.”

You gasped as you felt the tip of his tongue slide down your belly, rising to the base of your breasts, where he stopped to nibble lightly. The restraints made it impossible for you to try to squirm, and that only made each touch intensify. You were surrendered, and he knew it.

Ayato brought his fingers to your intimacy, touching slowly, exploratively. Your hips moved, an involuntary reaction to the growing pleasure, but he held you firmly.

And with that, he bent down, his tongue taking the place of his fingers. Ayato’s tongue was a precision weapon. He knew exactly where to lick, where to suck, when to speed up and when to stop just to watch you writhe, begging for more.

The tension of the tapes on your wrists made each sensation even more vivid. Your senses were heightened, your body reacting to each stimulus as if it were the first. Your moans became pleas, and when the first orgasm came, you practically cried out in pleasure, trembling under his touch.

He climbed up your body, his chest pressed against yours, his eyes staring into yours with a glow that was both hungry and calm at the same time. 

"You're not done yet," He whispered, his lips almost touching yours. "Not until I say so."

And then he positioned himself and penetrated you slowly, with an almost cruel slowness. You were so sensitive that the simple act of feeling him inside you drew a loud moan. He moved firmly, controlling each thrust, watching every expression on your face, as if memorizing every nuance of yours.

The silk ribbons held your arms in place, and that only intensified everything. You couldn't touch him, couldn't pull him closer, only feel — and obey.

“You’re mine.” He whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “So obedient, so perfect for me…” The climax came again, even stronger, making your vision blur for seconds. Your entire body trembled, sweat stuck the strands of hair to your forehead, and all you could do was call his name, as if it were all that mattered in the world.

And when he finally came undone on top of you, with a low, satisfied groan, Ayato wrapped his arms around you, whispering praises, loosening each bond with affection. His kisses were now tender, and he murmured between one touch and another:

“You were wonderful... as always.”

Aphrodisiacs. (Fem!Reader) 

The evening began with a treat. Ayato appeared with a small, ornate wooden box adorned with the Yashiro Commission seal and a delicate silver-blue bow. He handed it to you with a restrained smile, but his eyes — always so serene — gleamed with something more mischievous.

“A special Sumeru delicacy.” He explained, sitting down next to you. “Sweets made from the nectar of a flower called the Nilotpala Lotus. They are known for their… stimulating properties.” You looked at him with a mix of curiosity and amused trepidation. 

“Stimulating how?” Ayato smiled, taking one of the small candies with graceful fingers and bringing it to your mouth. 

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” Your distrust didn’t last long. You always trusted him — and besides, the scent emanating from the little box was sweet, delicate, and enveloping, like jasmine with a hint of honey. When you bit into the first sweet, a warm wave ran through your body. It wasn’t just the taste — melting on your tongue like silk — but the sensation that was slowly spreading through your limbs. Heat. Sensitivity. A silent awakening in every spot of your skin. Ayato watched, enchanted by every expression that took over your face. 

“It’s starting to take effect, isn’t it?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“It’s like… my body is more alive.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

He moved closer, his fingers gliding along your bare thigh with reverence. The contact made you hold your breath — a simple touch sending shivers that seemed to run down your spine. Ayato smiled with silent pleasure, as if appreciating the fruits of a carefully laid plan.

“You’re so sensitive… so receptive.” His lips touched your collarbone, then your neck. “Every part of you is begging for attention.”

Gently, he laid you down on the sheets, pulling the fabric of your robe with slowness. The cool air against your exposed skin contrasted with the heat building inside. Ayato took his time — he explored every inch of you with kisses and caresses that set you on fire. He knew your body like no one else and seemed determined to enjoy every second.

When his mouth found the curve between your legs, you gasped. His tongue was patient, meticulous, eliciting reactions heightened by the sweets. It was as if his every touch was magnified tenfold — and you couldn’t escape the sensation.

“Ayato—!” You moaned, your hands gripping the sheets.

“Yes,” He murmured between kisses, “I want you to say my name like that. I need to hear you come undone for me.” His fingers gripped your thigh more firmly, preventing any movement. Each lick was a delicious torture, each pause a subtle punishment. You felt the muscles in your stomach contract, the heat between your legs growing until it became unbearable.

“Please... more...”

“More?” He teased, looking up with that calm smile. “But I’ve barely begun.” When he finally entered you, with the same careful rhythm, your bodies fit together as they always did — perfectly. But now, with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins, it was all too much. Too intense. Too pleasurable. Each thrust was deep, calculated, and you whimpered in pleasure, completely surrendered to this man who never lost control — except when he wanted to make you lose yours.

“You’re so beautiful like this... all surrendered, all mine.” He whispered against your ear, the sound of his voice like velvet on your skin.

Your orgasms came in waves, shaking your body with force and he was there, steady, attentive, guiding you through it all, as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world. In the end, he held you against his chest, running his fingers through your sweat-dampened hair.

“Maybe we should bring more of those sweets home.” He whispered. “Or maybe… you only react like that to me.”

Overstimulation. (Fem!Reader) 

The night was silent inside the Kamisato residence, and the intimacy of Ayato’s room seemed separated from the rest of the world. Candles in thin holders cast soft shadows on the walls, and the light scent of sakura petals invaded the room through the half-open window. You knew him well — every subtle expression, every restrained gesture. And you knew exactly how to make him lose that control.

Ayato lay on his back on the futon, his hair slightly messed up by the silk pillow. The blue yukata he wore was loose, his chest partially exposed, rising and falling with his already irregular breathing. 

“Are you comfortable?” You asked, your voice soft as you caressed his abdomen with your fingertips.

“Yes,” He replied, his tone low, almost a whisper. “But you… are playing a dangerous game, my dear.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss his collarbone. 

“Maybe I am.” Your fingers slowly moved down, tracing the length of his cock before wrapping your hand around it with precision. The moan that escaped Ayato’s lips was suppressed, but you felt his body shudder.You  started slow, almost lazy, and his eyes closed as his hips lifted, seeking more. 

Your tongue collected the pre-cum that leaked from the tip of his cock, tasting it before taking his length into your mouth, sucking just the tip before sucking him completely — the head of his cock hitting your throat and making you choke on sinful sounds.

“You’re already so sensitive…” You murmured, watching his skin react, his entire body arch in response.

“You… always know how to disarm me, don’t you?” He said with a crooked smile, trying to maintain his composure even though his toes were already twitching.

The first time he came was quick: he’d been on edge since the very first touch of you — hot spurts of cum hitting your throat, and you drank all of him with need. But you didn’t stop. You continued to stimulate him, now with slower, delicately torturous movements from your hand, that stroked his cock with devotion. Ayato gasped, his neck and back arching. 

“Wait… ah! You’re teasing me—”

“I’m taking care of you.” You whispered, caressing the side of his face. “You always take care of everyone and everything. Now it’s your turn to surrender, Ayato.”

The second time came with more difficulty. He groaned your name, his hips shaking as the pleasure coursed through him again, this time more intense, more desperate. His eyes were watering, and you leaned in to kiss away the silent tears that trickled from the corners of his eyes.

“You’re doing so well,” You praised, and he shivered all over at the compliment whispered in his ear. “So beautiful, so obedient.” Ayato smiled, his lips trembling, his cheeks flushed. “You’re cruel, love…” You just laughed softly. 

“Cruel? Never. I am devoted. To your pleasure, at least.” And when he reached his third orgasm — shaking, sobbing, completely lost in the touch, in the words, in the suffocating intimacy of that room — you wrapped your arms around him, kissing his forehead tenderly.

“You were perfect,” You whispered, stroking his hair as he caught his breath. Ayato smiled, tired, satisfied. 

“I love you.” He murmured against your neck.

“And I love seeing you like this… All mine.” 

Ningguang 

Exhibitionism. (GN!Reader) 

It was night in Liyue, and the high moon was shedding its silvery light over the rooftops of the Jade Chamber, making everything even more luxurious and enchanting. You were there, alone with her, after a long day. Ningguang, as always, maintained her impeccable posture, sitting elegantly on the divan in the center of the hall with large windows, which offered a full view of the city below.

"Close the door." She said, her voice like silk, low and sure. "And stay where you are. Don't come any closer yet."

You obeyed, not understanding at first, but soon your eyes fixed on the way she stood up. The soft light illuminated her contours as she slowly dropped the white robe she was wearing, revealing the scarlet lingerie, convenient, tailored. It was delicate, lacy, with small provocative slits on the sides. She turned to the side, purposefully, knowing exactly how the curve of her waist and hips would steal your attention.

“I spend my days being admired by everyone. Desirous glances, restrained suggestions. But tonight,” She walked to the glass windows and stood there, facing the city, “Only you will see me like this... and only you will be able to touch me... When I allow it.”

The position was daring. Anyone with a well-positioned around that building could, in theory, see that enchanting silhouette through the windows. But Ningguang didn’t seem worried. She was in complete control of the situation — and you knew she wanted it that way.

She glanced over her shoulder, her red lipstick contrasting with her pale skin and her steady gaze.

“You like seeing me like this, don’t you?” You nodded, your breath catching in your throat.

Then, with calculated slowness, she reached for the clasp of her bra and unclasped it, letting the garment slide off her shoulders. Her exposed breasts were exposed under the moonlight, and the view was as mesmerizing as it was forbidden. She didn’t cover anything, showing herself with all the naturalness of someone who controls her own desires — and those of others.

“You’re so quiet…” She teased. “Did the image of me undressing for you in front of all of Liyue leave you speechless?” Her hands then went down her own thighs, until she reached her panties. She didn’t take them off right away. She just moved them a little to the side, revealing just enough to drive you crazy with desire. Her fingers slid there, and an almost silent moan escaped her lips. She touched herself in front of you, slowly, with evident pleasure. “Stay there. And just look. I want you to learn... that my lust is a gift I grant you.” 

Little by little, her body began to move more rhythmically, her hips undulating slightly against her hand, her moans becoming more frequent, although muffled by her ladylike composure. She arched her back against the glass, knowing that this accentuated every curve, every tremor, every breath.

You wanted to touch her. You wanted to be part of it, but she hadn’t let you yet. Then she stopped all stimulation abruptly, earning a curious look from you. She turned slowly, her hair fanning out over her bare back as her gaze met yours — steady, warm, with a glow of victory. 

“Come.” She said, holding out a hand. “You’ve endured my teasing well. Now you can worship me up close.” 

Scaramouche (Wanderer) 

BDSM, brat-taming. (AFAB!Reader) 

You teased him. You knew exactly what you were doing — every defiant look, every insolent retort, every cheeky smile. You knew Scaramouche wouldn’t let you off the hook. And that was exactly what you wanted. 

He sat cross-legged, watching you with feigned boredom and a sharp glint in his eyes. The silence was thick in the room, until he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, and spoke in a low, harsh voice: 

“Say one more word in that tone, and I’ll make you regret every syllable.” You smiled. Sweet, defiant. 

“What if I want to be punished?” It was too fast. In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet. You barely had time to step back before you were gently pushed back against the bed, your body restrained firmly. His fingers gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“You don’t want punishment. You want attention. And you’re begging for it in the most childish way possible.” He growled. “But I’ll give you what you want. Only my way.” He tied you up with leather handcuffs attached to the corners of the bed. There was no rush. He made sure to maintain control over every movement, every touch. The straps tightened just right — security and submission. You bit your lip, already feeling the heat building between your legs, and he laughed mockingly. 

“Look how you look just being restrained... so easy to read. So predictable.” He leaned down to your ear, his voice a whisper full of promise. “And you love it. You love challenging me just so I can bend you.” Scaramouche then slowly removed his blouse, letting you watch — like a small visual punishment. Without being able to touch, without even being able to brush your fingertips. He came closer again, his eyes sparkling, his fingers tracing your exposed body with a sharp caress. 

“You’re going to beg today, you know?” He said, his hand squeezing your thigh firmly. “And I won’t give in until I hear you ask for it. No smiles. No sarcasm. Just you, little  brat, surrendering.” You shivered under his touch, feeling his power wrap around you like an invisible chain. And for the first time that night, you were speechless. He smiled. A victorious smile, dark, hungry. “Good, you finally understand who’s in control here.” 

Scaramouche pulled away just enough to let you feel the emptiness of his absence. The handcuffs forced you to stay exactly where he wanted you — exposed, vulnerable, irritatingly aware of your own arousal. His gaze slid over you like a cruel caress, and the smile that formed on his lips promised no relief, only torment. 

“Did you really think you’d get what you wanted that easily?” He knelt between your legs, his fingertips sliding along the inside of your thigh but never reaching where you needed him most. “Not after all that petulance.” He leaned in, his lips brushing your skin — a touch that was almost chaste, almost pitiful. Almost. You arched your hips, desperate for more, but he pressed his hands against your thighs, keeping you still. 

“Tsk.” His tongue ran a lazy path, too hot and too light at the same time. “So sensitive... Already shaking from that? And you think you’re strong.” You moaned softly, trying to press yourself against him, but the chains wouldn’t let you. And he smiled, cruel and calm. 

“Not until you ask. Not with the boldness from before. I want your real voice. I want your surrender.” He then brought his hand between your legs, running his fingers over your sex without actually touching. Just the heat of the contact hovering there, making you cry out in frustration. Your body begged, throbbed, but he just watched. “Do you really think you’re going to cum before I let you?” He laughed, soft, contempt slipping through every syllable.

“You have no control here. I’m the one who decides when and if you deserve it.” Then he went down again, with his tongue, his fingers. The pleasure flared like fire. You arched, trembling, almost reaching… And he stopped. Nothing. Cold, suddenly. You gasped, desperate. 

“N-no… please, Scara, don’t do this—” He looked at you, and his gaze was pure dominance.

“You’re going to beg for real. You’re going to moan my name and call me master in that sweet little voice. Or you’re going to spend the whole night like this — trembling, wet, and empty.” His finger came back, teasing. Another slow kiss, a warm breath. But it was all superficial. Punishment disguised as affection. And you were already starting to give in. You bit your lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. Your entire body ached with need, and yet he hovered there, cruel and serene, as if your suffering was entertainment.

Scaramouche tilted his face, his eyes narrowed in pure delight as he watched you squirm.

“Almost, aren’t you? That cheeky little mouth has lost its power. Where did all that teasing go, hm?”

His fingers slid in again, this time touching exactly where you wanted it most — but only for a second. A warm, lingering touch and then emptiness again. You gasped, sobbing, your hips trying to follow the absent touch. 

“P-Please…”

“Please what?” He murmured, with a satisfied smile. You hesitated, pride throbbing in your chest. But it was useless. You were already defeated.

“Master…” The word escaped in a broken voice. “Please, master… let me cum. I need…”

“Ah…” He sighed with pleasure, as if those words were sweeter than any moan. “Now my little brat knows how to behave.”

He returned with his fingers, his mouth, his body — all at once, without mercy. The touches came fast, intense, too skillful to resist. You moaned loudly, feeling the orgasm build up like a colossal wave. The tension made you tremble, the pleasure bordering on unbearable.

“Cum for me. Now.” He ordered, his voice low and hoarse. “Show me who you belong to.” And you broke: your body buckled, the chains rattling with the force of your climax. A hoarse cry escaped your lips, his name lost between sobs and moans. He held you tightly, whispering praise, guiding each spasm of your body. 

“Look at you… So beautiful, begging and cumming like this, all mine…” When the tremor passed, you could barely breathe. But his smile said he wasn’t done with you yet. “Now that you’ve learned your lesson… let’s see how many more times you can obey.”

Wriothesley 

Breeding kink, praise kink. (Fem!Reader) 

There’s something about the way Wriothesley watches you that goes beyond lust. It’s control, care, and such a genuine desire to see you rendition to him — completely vulnerable — that makes it impossible not to surrender to him.

When he praises you, his voice is low, gravelly, almost a whisper as he explores your body with caresses, touches, and kisses. His cock brushes against the folds of your sex, which is crying out to receive him after so much teasing, but penetration doesn’t happen — he continues using the tip of his cock to stimulate your hard, swollen clit, occasionally putting just the tip inside you, but never penetrating you completely. Your sanity was running out. You needed him, you needed him to fill you, stretch you, mark you as his.

“Wriothesley… please!” You moaned in frustration, your hands gripping his biceps, your nails digging into the skin. “Fuck me already.”

“Patience… Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl for me?” His words silenced your desperation — you wanted his approval, his praise — even if it meant your frustration would only grow. You nodded, biting your lip and leaning your head back against the pillow as you felt your orgasm approaching. It was almost strange how just the act of grinding against each other could completely break you. More moans left your lips and he smiled. 

“You’re perfect.” He murmured, thrusting into you without warning, reaching the deepest point inside you in seconds. That was enough to make you cum, your walls contracting against his cock, milking him. “Fuck, always so tight… and so warm…” He pulled you into an urgent kiss, his orgasm approaching as well. 

“Cum inside me…” You begged against his lips, your nails scratching his back, your body jerking against the sheets with every thrust of his hips. “Please, I’ve been a good girl.” 

“You look so beautiful like this, begging for me… Your body knows you belong to me, can you feel it too? It’s begging me to fill you completely, to plant my seed in your womb.”

“I…” You could barely speak, a second orgasm quickly approaching. “I want to feel you stay in me for hours, I want to feel you dripping out of me just so you can fill me up again.”

“So tight, s-so hot…” He bit his lip, his words failing and his eyebrows furrowing, a clear sign that he was about to cum. And he did: hot and deep. Spurt after spurt of his seed invaded your womb, marking you completely as his. “Good girl... My girl. So obedient, so perfect, so… mine.”

Zhongli 

Edging, use of vibrators. (Fem!Reader) 

The room was calm, silent, as if the world had stopped to watch you both. Zhongli always treated pleasure with reverence, as an art that required patience, study and devotion.

You were lying between the silk sheets, your body already covered in a thin layer of sweat, the sheets messy beneath you. Your legs trembled slightly, and your breathing came in ragged pants. The vibrator in your intimacy vibrated in a soft, continuous rhythm — but never enough.

Zhongli was beside you, on his knees, his golden eyes fixed on each of your reactions. His expression was calm, almost solemn. As if he were praying with his eyes, adoring each sigh that left your lips.

"You're doing so well, darling." He murmured, his voice deep and calm, almost a whisper that touched your core. "So sensitive... so obedient."

The vibrator was lightly pressed against your clitoris, and you gasped, your hips arching reflexively. But, as he had done before, he pulled the toy away before your climax. Again. Once more. You moaned in frustration, almost tearful, feeling your own essence drip down your thighs. 

"Zhongli… Please…" Your voice was a raw, trembling plea. He smiled gently, caressing your face with his fingertips, as if you were made of porcelain.

"Patience, my dear. Pleasure must be built, polished… almost like a rare jewel." He slid the vibrator over you again, this time with a light circular motion, unhurriedly. "When I allow it, it will be the kind of pleasure that will completely break you. Isn't that what you want?"

You whimpered in response, feeling every inch of your body tremble under the touch of the toy and his words. The moans came low, almost desperate, your mind clouded between torment and ecstasy. And he watched, mesmerized by how beautiful you were as you lost control for him. And then he finally whispered those words against your ear. 

“Come for me…” You knew you were lost — and at the same time, exactly where you wanted to be. 

The permission came as a blessing, and you came hard, your body arching in pure bliss. The sounds that escaped your lips were hoarse, beautifully uncontrolled. And Zhongli didn’t look away for a second: he matched every spasm of your body with his firm hands on your thighs, keeping the vibrator gently pressed against your clit even as you shuddered in extreme sensitivity. You gasped, breathless, and yet… yet you wanted more.

“You look so lovely like this.” He murmured, tracing the contour of your belly with his fingertips. “So surrendered… So mine.”

You tried to push the toy away with trembling hands, but he held them easily, his fingers intertwined with yours. His gaze was calm, but there was a spark of raw desire burning behind the gold of his eyes.

“I’m not done with you yet.” And then he turned the vibrator back on — a lower intensity, but focused, insidious, teasing exactly where you were most vulnerable. You let out a sob of pleasure, your body convulsing in immediate response.

“Zhongli… It’s too much, I can’t—”

“Shh…” He leaned down, kissing your lips tenderly. “You can, I know you can. Trust me.”

He knew your body like he knew the stories of every era of Teyvat— deeply, with respect, with adoration. Every pause between moans, every quiver of your muscles, every new limit crossed was memorized by him — memorized with mastery, just like the stories he had once told you.

“You deserve every drop of this pleasure.” He whispered in your ear, as his cock finally replaced the vibrator. “And I will be here to guide you through it.” You whimpered — a beautiful, husky, indecent sound — as your second orgasm came fast, violently, stealing your breath, your strength. But he didn’t stop his thrusts, because Zhongli didn’t love in a hurry. He loved like a god who had all eternity to worship his favorite mortal.

Breeding kink, DD/LG and praise kink. (Fem!Reader)  

The candles cast a soft amber light over the room, dancing over the contours of the antique furniture and heavy curtains. Zhongli was meticulous even in his intimate moments — everything around him seemed carefully prepared to make you feel adored. And it worked.

You lay between the silk sheets, your breath held as he knelt between your legs, his golden eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that made your entire body shiver. 

He leaned forward, his hands firm on your thighs, spreading heat wherever he touched. “You’re perfect like this, you know that?” His voice was deep, sweet, enveloping like a balm. “So receptive, so mine… Just like the good little girl you are.” His kisses began softly, almost reverently, on your abdomen, then below your navel, until he was inside you again — slowly, deeply, filling you as if each movement meant more than just physical pleasure. 

“Zhongli, please…” You whimpered, your hands finding their way to his back. 

"You drive me crazy." He murmured against your neck, his thrusts deep and slow, his hips pressed against yours as if he wanted to merge the two of you into one body. "Every time I feel you like this, so hot, so tight... All I can think about is filling you to the last drop." Your moans were interrupted only by the words he whispered in your ear, between kisses and caresses that left your skin on fire. 

"I’ve been thinking about fucking a baby into you…" Zhongli brushed his lips against your ear. “Every single day, every now and then, I catch myself thinking about knocking you up, making you round with my child, tying your soul to mine because of our heir…” His thrusts became more rapid, almost violent as he continued his monologue. “Would you like me to do so, my girl?” Your eyes widened — you suspected he had some kind of breeding kink, but having him finally admit it… it made your heart warm up in adoration.

“I’ll happily nurture your heir inside my womb.” You reassured him. 

"You deserve to be praised, adored… You deserve to be filled with me, like the good girl you are." You felt him grip your waist, keeping you in place, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t disappear. The pleasure was intense, pulsating — and he knew exactly how to handle every second of it. "Atta girl... Just like that, love, you're taking me so good.” 

“Daddy… I’m…” That name slipped from your lips unintentionally, and you felt aroused by it. You had never called him that, even though you fulfilled the role of being his little girl. “I’m so close, please, daddy… Cum inside of me.” 

When he finally reached his limit, his moan was muffled against your skin. His orgasm provoked yours: your cunt convulsing around his cock, milking every last drop of his cum out of him, the contractions of your walls helping his seed reach deep inside of you, invading your womb without warning. 

The silence that followed the climax was thick and full of meaning. Zhongli didn’t pull away immediately — instead, he remained above you, his body still entwined with yours, his fingers slowly tracing your waist, as if he wanted to memorize every curve again.

Your breathing was irregular, your eyes half closed as you felt the heat of his body mixed with yours. There was still the sensation of his semen inside you, hot and abundant, as he had promised.  

The kiss he placed on your forehead was slow, like a seal of care. Zhongli then pulled out of you calmly, carefully observing your reactions, as if any discomfort you felt was a crime he would never forgive himself for committing. He lowered his gaze to where your bodies separated, and the sight made him let out a heavy sigh — satisfied, possessive, enchanted. And even breathless, he still whispered with possessive caress:

“Look at you…” He murmured, his fingers tracing the inside of your thigh, where his cum dripped lazily. “So full of me…”

You moaned softly, shuddering at his touch, and Zhongli smiled. A small smile, but full of tenderness. He rested his forehead on yours, his nose lightly brushing against yours, before murmuring in the softest voice you had ever heard as his fingertips caressed the skin of your lower bell in an instinctive, protective way. 

“You make me want a future.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. “With you. With the two of you.” 

[thirteenheavens]

dino and a high sex drive gf?

High Sex Drive || Lee Chan x Reader

Notes: hope you enjoy anon thanks for requesting <3

Chan walks into your shared apartment, calling out your name. "Babe, I'm home!" You hear him and immediately run out of the bedroom, dressed in only one of his oversized t-shirts. Chan's eyes widen at the sight of you, a knowing smile spreading across his face.

"Well, someone's eager," he teases, dropping his bag on the floor. "I can already tell it's going to be a long night." You pounce on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a heated kiss. Chan laughs against your lips, easily lifting you up as he deepens the kiss.

"Someone's been thinking about me all day," he murmurs, carrying you back to the bedroom. "I can practically feel how wet you are through my shirt."

"I can't help it," you whine, grinding against him as he walks. "I need you so badly, Chan." He sets you down on the bed and climbs on top of you, his eyes darkening with desire. "I know you do, baby," he says, his hands sliding under the shirt to caress your skin. "And I'm going to give you everything you need." He starts kissing down your neck, his fingers teasing your nipples through the thin fabric of the shirt. "Tell me what you want," he whispers, nipping at your collarbone. "I'll do anything to satisfy this high sex drive of yours."

"I want you to fuck me hard and fast," you moan, arching into his touch. "Make me scream your name so loud the neighbors complain." Chan groans at your words, his cock already hardening in his pants. "Your wish is my command," he growls, quickly stripping off the shirt and tossing it aside.

He spreads your legs wide, admiring your bare pussy before diving in to devour you. "You're so beautiful like this," he says, licking a stripe up your slit. "So wet and needy for me." Chan's tongue works expertly on your clit, circling and sucking until you're squirming beneath him. He slides two fingers into your tight heat, pumping them in and out at a steady pace.

"You taste so good," he moans against you, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot. "I could eat you out all day." You grip the sheets, your hips bucking up as he brings you closer to another orgasm. "Don't stop," you plead, feeling your release building quickly. "I'm going to come."

Chan speeds up his movements, his eyes locked on your face as you fall apart once more. "That's it, baby," he encourages, lapping up your juices as you cry out his name. "Cum for me." Chan continues to finger you through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until you're trembling and sensitive. "You're so fucking sexy when you scream like that," he says, pulling away and licking his lips.

He stands up and quickly strips out of his clothes, his cock hard and dripping with precum. "Are you ready for the main event?" he asks, crawling back onto the bed. You nod eagerly, still trying to catch your breath. Chan positions himself between your legs and lines up at your entrance. "I'm going to make you feel so good," he promises, slowly pushing into you.

Chan groans as he enters you, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. "You're still so tight," he grits out, holding himself back from thrusting all the way in. He gives you a moment to adjust before pulling out and slamming back in hard. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he sets a punishing pace, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks, his voice rough with exertion. "You wanted me to fuck you hard and deep?"

"Yes, Chan! Just like that!" you cry out, your nails digging into his skin as he hits your g-spot with each thrust. "You're so deep inside me, I can feel you in my stomach." Chan hisses at the sting of your nails but doesn't slow down. "I love when you mark me," he growls, leaning down to capture your lips in a messy kiss. "Makes me want to mark you too." He bites down on your neck, sucking a dark hickey into the sensitive skin as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. "I'm going to fill you up so full," he promises. "Make you mine completely."

Chan can feel you getting close again, your pussy clenching tightly around him as you get closer to your third orgasm. "You're getting tighter, baby," he groans, his rhythm starting to falter. He reaches down to rub your clit, determined to make you cum one more time. "Cum for me again," he commands, his voice deep and commanding. "I want to feel you milk my cock."

The combination of his words and skilled fingers sends you over the edge once more, your vision blurring as you scream his name. Chan follows shortly after, his hot seed spilling deep inside you as he buries himself to the hilt. Caught off guard by your sudden movement, Chan finds himself on his back with you straddling him. His eyes widen in surprise as you start to bounce on his sensitive cock.

"Someone's full of energy," he gasps out, gripping your hips as you ride him. "I thought you'd be too tired after three orgasms." You smirk down at him, grinding down hard. "I'm just getting started," you say, lifting up and slamming back down repeatedly. "I want to drain every last drop of cum from your balls."

Chan whimpers beneath you, his body twitching from the overstimulation. "Baby, wait... I'm too sensitive," he pleads, his fingers digging into your thighs. But despite his protests, he can't help but watch as you use his body for your pleasure. "You're so fucking sexy like this," he admits, biting his lip. "Taking what you want from me."

You ignore his discomfort, continuing to ride him with a determined look in your eyes. "I know you can handle it," you say, leaning down to bite his earlobe. "You always do." Chan's eyes roll back as you ride him with abandon, his body trembling with each movement. "Fuck, I'm getting hard again," he groans, his cock growing stiff inside you despite the overstimulation.

"You're making me crazy," he admits, trying to thrust up into you but unable to keep pace with your aggressive rhythm. "I can't believe how insatiable you are." He reaches up to play with your nipples, pinching them roughly as you use his body for your pleasure. "Keep going," he urges, even as tears start to form in his eyes from the overwhelming sensations. "Don't stop until you're satisfied."

"I'm almost there," you whine, your movements becoming more erratic as you chase your fourth orgasm. "You feel so good, even when you're sensitive." Chan grits his teeth, trying to hold back his own orgasm as he feels you clenching around him again. "Cum with me," he begs, his voice strained. "Let's cum together one last time." He plants his feet on the bed and thrusts up into you, meeting your movements halfway as he forces himself to keep going. "I love you," he pants out, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "Love how much you need me."

Chan's back arches off the bed as he finally reaches his limit, cumming deep inside you for a second time. The sensation triggers your own orgasm, and you scream as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Your body shakes uncontrollably as you collapse on top of him, both of you panting heavily. "That was... amazing," Chan manages to say between breaths, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"I can barely move," he adds with a weak laugh. "You completely wrecked me."

"I told you I was insatiable," you say with a satisfied smile, nuzzling into his neck. "And now you're all mine to use as I please." Chan chuckles tiredly, running his fingers through your hair. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Even if I am going to be sore for days."

[hillbillyoracle]

This post got me thinking. Like really churning. I just started working through Momento Mori by Joanna Ebenstein and this post kicked up some realizations for me.

Most of my major experiences with death happened before the age of like 25. Some were the ones you "expect" like grandparents and others were friends in my scene who either OD'd or straight up disappeared. My more recent experiences were supporting my partner through 3 deaths in the family in 3 months - one a cousin that was a few years younger than her that accidentally OD's leaving behind her children. Another was the grandmother who was her rock growing up in a chaotic household and who steadfastly included me at family gatherings when my partner's mom and sister would ice me out. All passed suddenly.

I think the only thing that is universally true about grief is that everyone goes through it differently.

Because so much of what these replies held up as "this is what you say" and "this is what you do" - I fucking hate that stuff (even though I admit I default to it) as much as or more than so many people here hate the religious comments (which I usually don't tend to mind personally).

To me:

"I'm sorry for your loss" = "I am having the correct feeling about this."

"I can't imagine what you're going through" = "I can't relate to you and I'm putting distance between us to feel better about it."

"How are you doing?" = "Share something vulnerable with me so I feel like I helped you."

And you could say I'm hearing that wrong, and I get that I likely am, but that's what those words mean to me. And when I'm grieving I've learned I can't really access that part of my brain that better attunes me the "proper responses".

I also do not want someone to feel angry with, I do not want my anger fed at all. I want help dissolving it because if I don't it'll fully consume me and that's even worse than the grief for me, to have all the good in me burnt up while I'm still alive because that's my personal experience of anger.

Which is all just to say, it has nothing to do with religiosity in my experience - there's simply no "correct" response you can rely on for all people. In words or in deed.

And that is what makes experiencing grief so hard - everyone gives you what they got and often it's a reflection of their own stunted relationship with death, yes even the atheists, and it often sucks.

And trying to comfort someone in grief sucks - how do you use words and actions to reach them when communication of any kind is so highly individual and this individual might not be able to tell you what they need and want to hear/have done?

If you go "no actually they're using the wrong words/actions, these are the correct ones", you wind up doing the very same things as the people who've pissed you off.

Or at least, that's what I found when I dug into it.

I try to be forgiving when I'm grieving but I fall short. I don't expect someone grieving to be forgiving if I miss the mark, but I appreciate it immensely when they're able.

My favorite things to hear when I'm grieving are ones I know some other people hate:

"I miss them so much."

"Remember when they..."

"I thought about them today."

"I wonder what they'd say about..."

"They would have loved this."

"I had a dream about them."

Releasing the idea that there was a correct thing people could say to me and I would feel a little better (or ensure I wouldn't feel worse) let me grieve how I needed to grieve. It let me support in ways I could better sustain over the long term (because boy howdy if grief isn't long term).

Anywho, a heartfelt hug and virtual cup of tea to anyone else reading this and going through it. On other side. Solidarity friends.

it's been a year so i feel more comfortable talking about it..

when you're atheist and you lose someone, religious people don't really know how to interact with you. it's fine, we have different worldviews.

'He's in a better place, now.'

Sorry auntie, but I don't believe that. I believe that his brain stopped working at 5h55pm on december 11th 2022, and that's it. Nothing after that.

It makes grief very difficult, because not believing in god or the afterlife also means accepting that you will never, ever see that person again. That's it. The end. Nada mas.

But, back to the aunties and other faceless people gravitating in the grey blurry waters of your awareness.

They tell you 'He's with god now' and you tell them 'Yeah I don't believe that' and.

they. get. annoyed.

Here I am, gutted open, the worst day of my life, barely holding myself together, and they! Get annoyed that I won't smile and entertain their point of view!

Another faceless person tried to heal me with cristals. She also got annoyed when I told her I didn't believe in that.

I usually don't really mind religious people. It's fine, we have different worldviews. I think I'm right but so do they. As long as they're good people, I don't judge them for their faith.

I'll even be grateful for them trying to console me. I get that you're trying to give me strength and love. Thank you.

But I'm going to be true to myself, yes even when I'm mad with shock and grief. And I still can't believe they got annoyed that I didn't play along to placate them, on the worst day of my life.

(I wanted to share because I've never heard anyone talk about atheism and grief, and the loneliness that comes out of it.)

[halfmoonshines]

**this takes places during Thunderbolts*, WILL have spoilers*

Bucky Barnes x F! Reader

summary; Bucky receives the call from Mel to come and find the ragtag bunch that just escaped Valentina; he struggles with what to do. But you've always been there to help him.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿

I feel my brows pinch together in worry when Bucky's shoulders stiffen, my coffee paused just before my lips. I can only hear his part of the conversation, but he seems incessant about something.

"I don't do that anymore." His voice comes out gravelly, and my cup is discarded on the island between us. Something big was happening.

He mumbles something else and hangs up, his phone hitting the counter with a bit too much force. He still doesn't turn to look at me.

"Jamie." I say it quietly, looping around the middle of the kitchen and coming to stand at his side. My hand raises to rest on his taut shoulders and I can feel him twitch just slightly beneath me. He's stiff, and when those eyes finally look up to meet mine there's a storm raging in them.

Just when I think he's going to pull away, like he would in the early days of our relationship and something rocked him like this, he steps toward me instead. Arms banding themselves around my waist and his head dropped to my shoulder, I hold him close to me. I just listen to his breathing, and wait for him.

"There's a situation." He says finally, pulling away from me and showing those tempest eyes. "Valentina tried to trick her ghost operatives into killing each other and when that didn't work, they escaped. I need to bring them in." Bucky started tidying the mess we had made during dinner, keeping his hands busy. "I arrest them, they testify against her, and everyone's happy. Some assassins are behind bars and Valentina finally gets impeached." He stops fidgeting and heaves a sigh, head dropping back, eyes closed.

My hand goes to rest on the one he has splayed across the counter, but he doesn't open his eyes.

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

Bucky's eyes blink open and he looks at me, confused. "Of course. I'm a congressman now, doll. Even apprehending them is way beyond my jurisdiction. I need to try and put them through due processes. Let the law handle it."

I can see it, the uncertainty in his face and the muscles of his jaw working against the words he's saying, like they taste bad.

"I think that, maybe, you're afraid the law won't handle it justly." I proceed carefully, not wanting to upset him farther. "Weren't you telling me a few days ago that Natasha's sister was one of Valentina's assets?" Bucky had always talked about Natasha and Steve like they hung the moon. A former Red Room assassin, Natasha Romanoff was everything that Bucky strives to be. Better. Someone who faces their mistakes head on, and works through them. Apologizes for them. Dies for them, though he never glorifies that, I know that he respects it on a level I could never understand.

His silence is the answer I need.

"Do you think it's fair? That Yelena would be behind bars but you get to go to the next congressional meeting?" His eyes snap to mine, a glacier blue burning against my own. I wasn't trying to hurt him, but make him understand these complicated emotions I know were cementing him in place right now.

"I've done my time, babe. Yelena has showed no signs of changing her life around. She's still killing people, just for a different organization." He pulls his hand out from under mine and walks to the fridge, putting his half empty water in there to retrieve later.

The light of the refrigerator cuts a stark image of him in our kitchen; this man in his newly pressed dress shirt, metal arm glinting in the low light. This was a new Bucky; one of many that I had seen, and I wasn't convinced that this was the one he felt most comfortable being.

I follow him, hands coming up to rub small circles along his back as he shuts the fridge door. "Certainly we can't compare the CIA and the Red Room?" Quietly, I do. But that won't help matters here. "How do we know that she isn't trying to turn over a new leaf in the only way she knows how? You had a support system, Buck. She has nothing."

He doesn't say anything and we stand like that for a moment. His hands braced on either side of the fridge, I can see indents forming there where he's squeezing just a little too hard. A war raging in him that I don't control. There's no ceasefire to be called; he has to reconcile with himself.

He turns to be abruptly and pulls me against him. I feel his cool hand at the back of my head before he draws me forward, lips melding to mine with a bruising force. When he pulls away, there's a new resolve there. He's made his decision, whatever that may be.

"I'm going to go and get them." He pauses for a moment, worrying his lip between his teeth. "But I think I'm going to talk to them first. Try to gauge what they're thinking. Maybe you're right."

I smile as he pulls away from me, holding his hand in mine as long as I can before he's across the room heading to change.

"But if I find an excuse to hit Walker, I'm taking it." He throws over his shoulder, a small smile as a gift to me.

My laugh is light. "I would expect nothing less."

I'll be staying up tonight, as long as my already tired body would let me, to be sure that I'm awake when he gets home. His demons in tow and uncertainty in every step. It's nights like this that he'll need to be reminded how far he's come; who he is now.

I want nothing more than that.

[moon-ttokki-x]

hiiii

something like this for a seungmin x 9th reader fic?:

https://www.tumblr.com/nightmarenyxx/782437028022321152/please-someone-write-something-with-the-chaumet

hii !! i'm actually not gonna do a 9th member fic since i can't think of anything for it (sorry...), but those chaumet pics SCREAm bodyguard seungmin to me, so here >< hope it makes up for it . . .

bodyguard!kim seungmin headcanons

pairing: bodyguard!kim seungmin x charge!reader

summary: how bodyguard seungmin would be around his charge hehe

genre: bodyguard!au, mentions of blood, bruises, broken bones, reader is a little clumsy, seungmin being a gentleman, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of fighting and harassment, slight hints of bodyguard + charge to lovers? this is such a wattpad thing to write about but who cares lmao

a/n: chaumet seungmin is as close to doberman seungmin we're gonna get . . . sigh . div by @dollywons

skz masterlist

bodyguard!seungmin who has a soft spot for his charge, always letting them do whatever they would like to (unless it puts you in danger). you want to climb a tree? sure, he's just gonna stand underneath and look up in case you fall. you want to eat something ridiculously unhealthy? go for it, but he's gonna make sure you have proper meals the rest of the day. whatever you want to do, he'll calmly oblige while keeping an eye out for any threats (and yes, that does include making sure you don't ingest obscene amounts of calories).

bodyguard!seungmin who wakes you in the mornings with a gentle shake and a pull of the curtains. he's figured out that the easiest way to wake up in the mornings is to let some sunlight into the room. he stands by, fully dressed and proper, while you yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes. doesn't blink at the state of your ruffled clothes and bedhead, but he smirks to himself as he turns to pour you a cup of tea. he hands it to you and tries to fight a sigh as you immediately spill it over the duvet. oops . . .

bodyguard!seungmin who chides you when you get injured, no matter if it's a broken arm or a papercut. not that he would ever let you get injured when he's around; he always has a watchful eye out for you, but even so, you have a tendency to stumble and trip. doesn't scold you or treats your injuries harshly, but sits quietly and gently reminds you to be careful next time. administers first aid with a gentle touch, one reserved only for you, and rolls his eyes when you cheekily ask him to kiss your wounds better (he wants to so badly).

bodyguard!seungmin who subtly protects you in public; he holds his jacket over you when you're going up the escalator or a flight of stairs, stands in front of you while you fix your outfit, and keeps an eye on any people you talk to in case they make you uncomfortable. would definitely be the type of guy to give you his blazer if you're ever cold or feel exposed with what you're currently wearing. i have a feeling he would roll his eyes and mutter under his breath, but secretly, he really likes seeing you in his clothes. and he would 100% rather have to face the cold than have you shivering next to him.

bodyguard!seungmin who doesn't show off when it comes to defending you; just does what he has to in order to protect you, then takes you and runs. moves fast beyond comprehension; the attackers or harassers never see him coming. let me tell you, the seungmin blur is the deadliest force known to humanity, and he takes pride in what he does. no one who messes with you ever walks away without at least several bruises and broken bones. he definitely checks you over after, much more than he needs to. is scanning your arms and face for injuries even on the car ride home, even after you reassure him that you're fine.

bodyguard!seungmin who has a gun in the inside pocket of his blazer, but refuses to use it unless absolutely necessary. is hesitant to even pull it out of the slot after you begged him not to use it on people. you know sometimes people will try to hurt you, but you can't stand the thought of blood on seungmin's hands, not least because he's trying to protect you. if the situation is really bad, he'll whip out his knife. he can't put aside his bodyguard duties in favour of your opinion, so he'll do as little damage as possible, whipping the person unconscious or nicking them. it's usually enough to scare them away (most of the time..).

a/n: inspired by the felix bodyguard series by @skzdarlings !!

ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca

send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !

[juanarc-thethird]

Identity theft #1

Cinder: Okay, here's the plan: Neo will impersonate Pyrrha and enter her room to sabotage her weapons, so no one will know.

Emerald: Ok, but what would happen if her teammates show up?

Cinder: I wouldn’t worry about that. Nora and Ren are spending all day searching for the golden pancake, thanks to my amazing ingenuity.

Neo: "And what about the idiot?🤨?

Emerald: Yeah, what about Jaune? Is he busy too?

Cinder: Do you think that Dunce would question Pyrrha? Knowing him, he'd leave her alone while she "works on her weapons."

Neo: "But what if it does?🤔"

Cinder: So you deal with it, but under no circumstances should you throw away your cover, understood?!

Neo: "Yeah sure🙄"

Cinder: Good, now get to work.

Later that day.

"Pyrrha" enters Team JNPR's room, and begins searching through the closets for the real Pyrrha's weapons.

Pyrrha(Neo): (Which one is her closet?😒 I've only found bottles of maple syrup, tea herbs, and comic books. Don't tell me she doesn't have her…👀 Jackpot😎)

In the last closet, she finds Pyrrha's weapons, right at the bottom. She bends down to grab them but is surprised by a somewhat unusual touch.

Pyrrha(Neo): (Is someone touching my ass?!😡)

Jaune: Hello my love, did you hear that Nora and Ren won't be here all day?💕

Pyrrha(Neo): (Wait? They're a couple?! Wow... but I need to leave now. I'll just step aside and leave before anything else happe-AaaH~💕)

Neo feels Jaune's fingers slide inside her. His movements are slow and very stimulating.

Pyrrha(Neo): (God~, this is it, I need to get out of here before…😳!!!)

Suddenly she feels something hot and big between her ass cheeks. She looks back and sees a tremendous, well-endowed piece of meat looking at her directly.

Pyrrha(Neo): (Holy shit! Is fucking huge!😨)

Jaune: Sorry, I know you prefer it in bed, but you've made me so mad for you that I can't control myself. Is it okay if I put it inside you?

Neo can't stop looking at his member after he asked her that, and a silly idea popped into his head.

Pyrrha(Neo): (Well, Cinder did said to do whatever it takes to not blow our cover😏)

She looks at him and gives him a nod.

Meanwhile...

Cinder: Why is Neo taking so long?

Emerald: Maybe she stumbled upon something that can't get out yet?

Cinder: Maybe. Whatever it is, I hope it's a matter of life or death. Because if it isn't, she's going to get it.

Back to Neo...

Still wearing the "Pyrrha" disguise, Jaune has her on all fours, hitting her from behind with his tremendous meat stick, and choking her by the neck gently but firmly.

PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!

Pyrrha(Neo): "💕😮‍💨💕🤤💕‼️"

Jaune: Oh god💕! You're tighter than usual! I think I'm gonna cum!

Pyrrha(Neo): (YEs!💕 Cum inside me!💕 I want to feel your delicious warm milk inside me!💕)

Jaune: Oh Fuck💕! Im close!

Pyrrha(Neo): (Do it! Make me yours!💕💕)

Jaune: Oh Pyrrha!!💕

At that moment she can't feel her insides filling with cum, so much that some of it comes out.

Pyrrha(Neo): ( FUuUCk YEeeEes!💕💕)

They both take a breath. Then Jaune pulls his cock out of her, and it all spurts out like a champagne bottle. Staining the floor with his creamy milk.

Jaune: Oh god, I didn't think I'd cum that much. Well, how about a shower and then we go work out a bit?

Pyrrha(Neo): *Nods back*

Jaune: Excellent, I'll wait for you inside.

He says and gets up to go straight to the bathroom. Neo looks at Pyrrha's weapons and thinks for a moment.

Pyrrha(Neo): (I guess this is my only chance to finish the job🫤)

She then hears the sound of the shower running.

Jaune: Pyrrha, come on. I need you to clean me very thoroughly~💕

Pyrrha(Neo): (Well, I can't say I didn't try☺️)

She gets up and heads towards the shower.

But in the midst of all this, she never realized that a person was watching them from the shadows, one very happy to see such an event.

??????: *Giggles* Interesting

To be continued…

[emeraldserenade]

As a request, Reader finds out she’s expecting a baby with Joaquin but is scared to tell him. She hides the pregnancy from everyone but his sister until something happens that can’t keep it hidden anymore (angsty but ultimately happy)

Only if you’re comfortable with writing it 🩷

Baby Baby ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You hide your pregnancy from Joaquín

tw: fem!reader, morning sickness, reader has longer hair, abortion is mentioned (not considered), bombing, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

This was a nice challenge to write, I've never been around someone pregnant before (or at least at a time I can remember) so I only know what I've learned from school, movies, and some articles I've read.

➽──────────────❥

You knew Joaquín had a breeding kink but as you stared at the word, pregnant, you were washed with a sudden fear. You weren't sure if Joaquín saying those things were true or his aroused brain speaking. You shoved the test back in it's box and the box into your bag, you would hide everything.

You called Joaquín to tell him you were headed out for some errands and probably wouldn't be home when he got home. You had to lie to lie to him, you could't bring yourself to tell him, not yet. You ended up at his sister's house, she moved to DC not long ago and you had become very close.

"Y/n, I wasn't expecting you," Cassandra let you in right away. You didn't say anything, you just made your way to her couch and sat down. "Is everything ok? Do I need to talk to Joaquín?"

"No!" You rushed out and reached into your bag. "I'm," you couldn't bring yourself to say it, you just handed her the test.

"Oh my," she gasped but stopped when she saw your face. "You aren't happy?"

"I am, I am," you clarified. "It's just, Joaquín and I haven't actually talked about having kids. What if Joaquín doesn't want this baby or isn't ready?"

"Oh," she breathed out. "I want to help but I actually don't know what Joaquín's stance on kids is," she told you and you solemnly nodded.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You threw the box away at Cassandra's house but kept the test in your purse. You had the morning sickness since before you took the test, it's why you took it. You had been lucky enough that Joaquín has been at work or stayed asleep every time you threw up. Joaquín caught you this time though, he woke up at a particularly loud retch.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Joaquín held your hair back for you.

"I think I ate something that didn't agree with me," you lied smoothly, having this lie planned out for weeks.

"Do you think it was the food from the truck yesterday?"

"Could be," you retched at the end of your sentence but nothing more happened. You blindly reached for the bottle of perfume that you could smell, you felt that it was plastic and threw it out the bathroom. Joaquín said nothing and you were glad, you didn't have a lie for that one.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín started to suspect you being pregnant, you were wearing bagger clothes and turned down all his advancements. You kept throwing up in the morning and you were more sensitive to smells. Joaquín didn't want to say anything, he believed that you would tell him if you were.

You, on the other hand, cried almost everyday at the fact that you were going through it alone by your own doing. You were absolutely terrified about what Joaquín would say, especially since you were past the point of abortion. You took away Joaquín's choice to choose if he wanted the kid and you felt horrible. You didn't want to baby trap him, but you wanted your baby. Even if that meant you lost Joaquín fully.

Cassandra had been going to all your prenatal appointments with you, holding your hand and taking photos and videos for when Joaquín does know. It was another thing you felt horrible about, if he did want your child, he wouldn't be there for all of this.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Sam and Joaquín were at work when the phone rang and a security guard came rushing. "I'm sorry, but you should really look at the news," he rushed out before leaving. Sam and Joaquín turned on the TV and both rushed to grab their suits.

"The downtown plaza today was the target of the newest supervillain. The unnamed villain placed a bomb that went off at noon, there has been at least three confirmed casualties and twelve injured," the news anchor spoke. Joaquín's personal phone went off as he waited for Sam to finish.

"Joaquín, y/n and I were at the plaza. I'm ok but y/n, she's in the hospital," Cassandra told him and Joaquín's heart stopped.

"What? How bad is it?" Joaquín questioned and Sam looked over.

"I don't know, they won't tell me since I'm not family," Cassandra rushed out, the sounds of the hospital could be heard in the back.

"Joaquín, go, I'll go handle this myself," Sam put together what happened.

"Ok," Joaquín nodded at Sam. "I'll be right there," Joaquín told Cassandra.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You were in the room alone, Joaquín was out in the hallway with a doctor. Your heart rate picked up and alerted both of them, they came running in to sooth you.

"Y/n, you were in an accident," the doctor told you. "You luckily didn't get any to severe injuries," he looked down at the chart in his hand. "And your baby girl is perfectly ok, a healthy nineteen week baby," he told you and you sobbed.

"It's a girl?" You questioned, hands landing on your stomach. It was definitely bigger than it was before.

"Did I just ruin a gender reveal?"

"No, I haven't had my gender appointment yet," you assured him and he nodded before leaving. You refused to look at Joaquín yet, you were sure he was mad at you.

"Angel," Joaquín called for your attention. "Please look at me, I'm not mad," he assured you and you finally looked over at him.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed as you looked over at him. "I was worried you wouldn't want her and I didn't want to lose you. Then it became too late and Cassandra kept telling me to tell you but I'm just so scared. I am so sorry," you sobbed even harder as you spoke.

"Sweetheart, I'm not mad. I'm a little disappointed that I missed everything so far," Joaquín gently ran his thumbs over your cheeks as he spoke.

"Cassandra has lot of videos and photos," you informed him. "You're happy?"

"I am more than happy," he assured you, kissing your forehead.

"Then when we get out of here, will you stand behind me and hold my stomach up?" You tried to make a joke to stop crying.

"I'll do anything you want and more," he kissed your forehead again.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Hi, you must be the father, Joaquín. Y/n here talks about you every time," your prenatal doctor, Jenny, shook Joaquín's hand.

"Hi, I am," Joaquín affirmed and took the seat next to you.

"Well, let's find out what your baby's gender is," she smiled and you grimaced slightly.

"We already know," you broke the fact to her. "I was in the plaza bombing, the doctor at the hospital said that she was fine," you said.

"Well then, let's take a look at your baby girl," Jenny took her seat and you took Joaquín's hand. You smiled when he kissed your knuckles, you finally felt better about this whole thing.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

a very very slapdash mermarty comic i made while thinking about their matching calculator watches and this au! please excuse the crudity of this comic, i completely made up where it was going as i was drawing it.

bonus bit of unfinished comic because i felt like it had naturally concluded already but i still had one more bit left in me:

also :point_up: yap session:

at the point this comic takes place in the au, doc and marty have already been friends for about a week! which is why doc's noticed how marty's always late and marty's been given a bunch of stuff to hide his fishier qualities. also! his ass is now binding properly!!!

for the sake of the watch i'm going to say it's waterproof. which will only prolong the inevitable bc i know for sure he's going to find a way to break that thing

i drew this around last month! i delayed posting it for so long because 1. i didn't know how to end it and 2. i thought about fish society for too hard.

DO NOT THINK ABOUT FISH SOCIETY FOR TOO HARD. too tired to think about worldbuilding and needs every minute detail to make sense is a terrible combination to have. on a general level i imagine fish society to be like how pixar's luca did it, but with specific aspects like how they keep time i kept wondering if having them just sort of guess what point in time they were at during the day was a reasonable point for them to be at or if they would've already figured out something better. for the sake of this comic i guess they haven't put numbers to the whole time telling system yet. the "numbers thing" line is in reference to this and not him not knowing what a number is. they know what numbers are!

also, marty says "wait a minute" because he picked it up from overhearing someone on the shore say it. i don't think he knows what exactly a minute is

mb on how rough it is. traditional lining is very hit or miss for me bc it's very hard to adjust the lines. also i had limited space so some things are kind of shoved up in odd places

this comic being posted was kind of a joint effort haha. was talking to one of my pals about mermarty which got me thinking about it enough to draw something for it, then got help from @/aceofthyme to write doc's whole watch schpiel bc i didn't know nearly enough about the matter to do it myself (thanks ace!), and then sat on it for a month before another one of my friends brought it up earlier today which leads me to the tumblr posting page. so thanks guys!

[matchalovertrait]

Antonio's main reason for giving Caruso the private investigator's information was to eliminate whoever Caruso had hired to dig into his life. He needed to get Caruso off his back.

NOTE: Somebody guessed what's coming but I'm not saying who 👀

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

Transcript

The Law Offices

[When Dulce informed her therapist about Antonio’s odd request, they told her she had every right to be upset – and that it was up to her whether or not she wanted to go. After much discussion, Dulce found herself at this place again.]

[She didn’t want to discuss whatever happened between them. She wasn’t ready yet. Mostly, she was curious about what he wanted in case it was related to the trial. Maybe she forgot to sign something?]

DULCE: Hi! I’m here for-

RECEPTIONIST: Dulce Alegría! Good to see you again. Go right on ahead to Mr. Romero’s office.

[The receptionist remembered who she was? But it had been months since her last visit. Well, she was unforgettable. It made sense.]

DULCE: ...Oh. Thank you.

[And it probably didn’t help that she used to come by frequently just to see Antonio. Most of their meetings could’ve been emails.]

[The clothes on her became increasingly suffocating as she took the elevator and walked toward the office. She took a deep breath before knocking on the door.]

ANTONIO: Come in.

ANTONIO: Dulce.. Hi, how have you been?

DULCE: Never better! What about you?

[She was biting her tongue, remembering her therapist telling her to stay grounded.]

ANTONIO: Same here. Please take a seat.

[Dulce did take a seat, keeping a noticeable distance from the desk.]

DULCE: So, what’s up? It was totally random for you to ask me to come.

ANTONIO: It was, so thank you for coming.

[He cleared his throat.]

ANTONIO: I’ll get straight to the point: I found a private investigator. For Caruso to help find his mom.

DULCE: What?

ANTONIO: Hear me out. Clearly he has his own issues, and I believe that providing him with this contact information will help him in obtaining closure – and keep him from attempting to ruin other people’s lives. I’ll be the one to send it. What are your thoughts?

DULCE: No yeah, I think that’s a great idea.

[She was taken by surprise. This lawyer also has unconventional ideas; she thought it was just her.]

DULCE: I know he hurt me, but I want the best for him. We should all move on from what happened.

[Suddenly, the room got quiet. Was Dulce only referring to Caruso?]

DULCE: Well if that’s it, I really should get going.

ANTONIO: Dulce, wait.

DULCE: Hm?

ANTONIO: I.. I’m sorry.

DULCE: It’s fine. I need to go now.

ANTONIO: I have more to say.

DULCE: Antonio, let’s just drop it. Okay?

[...]

ANTONIO: Dulce. Please. You don’t have to forgive me. In fact, I don’t expect it, but you deserve an apology. Don’t you?

[Dulce froze.]

ANTONIO: I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I’ve been hot and cold, didn’t show up to your celebration, and disappeared without a word. None of that was fair to you. You’ve only ever shown me kindness and wanted to share moments with me, but I can’t meet you there. I led you on.

[Dulce glanced down to take in the words. Hm. She got the confirmation she needed. She couldn’t wait around like a lost puppy anymore.]

[With nothing left to lose, she seized the opportunity to bring up an inquiry, perhaps for the last time.]

DULCE: I’ll forgive you if you do me one more favor.

ANTONIO: What is it?

[Inaudible chatter.]

ANTONIO: That’s what you want?!

DULCE: What’s the big deal? I’ll pay you and then stay out of your hair forever. I’d take that offer if I were you.

ANTONIO: It’s not- I don’t think it’s a good idea. You can’t be serious about it.

[Antonio took the time to examine her face.]

DULCE: Oh, I’m serious alright. Also, I listened to your idea.

ANTONIO: ..Okay, fine. I’ll draft something up.

ANTONIO: I’m only doing it because you need someone to do this correctly. And something failsafe.

DULCE: Mmkay.

[staravyz]

︖﹖ㅤㅤ Counting Stars and Stats

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ❕️ㅤclick 4rules—4masterlist

ㅤㅤ🔭ㅤㅤ—ㅤ(dr. stone) ishigami senkuu x reader

ㅤ﹑tags ... x reader/comfort/slice of life/fluff/short one shot/modern au

ㅤ౨ৎㅤ—ㅤa/n﹕cross posted tis on ao3 lmk if i suould write a part 2 😼

ㅤOn the day the guy from your AP art class that you'd been eyeing for several weeks finally asked you out to the dance, you sprinted to Senku's house to tell him.

ㅤKnowing each other for years now, it was just natural that he was the first person you'd alert.

ㅤNot even your nice friends that complain about schoolwork and convince you to go out with them once a week instead of studying, or your classmates that you only speak to in class when there's nothing to do who ask you for answers and notes during breaks, but Senku.

ㅤThe guy who's most likely to either solve climate change or become a dictator and involve you in his madness either way.

ㅤYou don't know when exactly it hit you that you wanted to start doing less advanced schoolwork and more socializing, but you did know that Senku wasn't interested in it. He was always trying to drag you away from your friends to pull you back in the lab, putting you through Olympic sports level studying over college courses you weren't even planning to take, and running statistics on socialization to prove to you how useless it is compared to science.

ㅤSure, it was probably sweet in Senku's weird way of showing his care, but this time, you got asked out.

ㅤTo a school dance.

ㅤThis is revolutionary for you.

ㅤ"Hate to break it to you, but you're gonna have to cancel your little dance date thing," Senku interrupted, right when you were describing how the guy smoothly asked you after class.

ㅤ"What?" You blinked. "Why?"

ㅤ"I need your help setting up the telescope so we can compare Saturn's moons' orbits over the course of the night. Visibilty rate is the best on the night of the dance before the weather decides to start coating everything in snow," he said casually. Senku hadn't spared so much so a glance since you started talking.

ㅤWith him in his chair, scribbling down notes—probably memorizing each of Saturn's moons—you sat on his bed, fidgeting with a rubix cube in your lap.

ㅤ"Who's we? I'm going to the dance, Senku. You can collect your data by yourself because I'm not skipping out on this just for you." You rolled your eyes. "Ask Taiju, maybe."

ㅤ"Taiju's going with Yuzuriha, and I'd rather disturb your night over theirs because they have a more solid relationship than you and your little art buddy do."

ㅤYou huffed. Arguing over whose date should be prioritized more was useless.

ㅤ"Then you're on your own, Senku. I want to go. I got asked," You stated.

ㅤSenku sighed and put down his pencil. "You're gonna regret it, ten billion percent." He turned to face you, but didn't exactly meet your eyes. "Gen told me that guy is an entrepreneur in asking girls out over bets for money."

ㅤYou frowned. "Are you saying I'm more likely to be a bet than a real date?" Your hands fell slack in your lap.

ㅤ"I'm saying that you need to think more logically about the people around you." He gestured towards the space around you with his hand then stood up and flicked your forehead. "Use that supposed brain of yours to make better decisions, idiot."

ㅤYou rubbed your forehead, it didn't hurt at all. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, you're not a licensed therapist and I don't feel comfortable taking life advice from someone who watches petri dishes for entertainment."

ㅤSenku turned back around, a smirk peeking at the corner of lips. He scoffed. "Alright, see through the consequences of your actions. Not my problem."

—

ㅤOh how you loathe how right Senku is every time.

ㅤSitting in one of those cheap, black chairs the dance committee laid out at a table only you were at, your date was over an hour late and it was just now starting to sink in.

ㅤYou got stood up.

ㅤThis is unbelievable.

ㅤWith a sigh, you stopped your relentless tapping on the table and placed your chin in your hand as you watched everyone with sonder.

ㅤYour friends were occupied with their own dates. Taking pictures, dancing, sneaking off to make out in a bathroom stall, things you've never really pictured yourself doing but sometimes wished you could. More or less because you craved the real experience and making memories and not because you wanted a pair of lips trailing bacteria and saliva down your neck.

ㅤYeah, maybe you could cross that one off as unnecessary.

ㅤYou checked the time on your phone. 10:38 PM. Might as well go for a walk and rethink everything about your life, then come back with a new identity.

ㅤOne step outside and you had already made another regret: not bringing a thicker jacket.

ㅤHumiliation was stronger than your need for warmth, so you walked down the steps and strode into the night.

ㅤNo particular destination, just listening to the sound of the cool breeze, clacking of your accessories, and your shoes hitting the pavement with each step. A car or two would drive by and you'd wonder if they thought you were a loner, or maybe a runaway.

ㅤPassing a lampost, you grazed your fingers over the pole and observed the light and shadows sharply reacting to your bone structure. Your gaze softened at such a simple sight. Maybe if things had gone well, that hand would be warmer, held by the art guy who apparently profited over your emotional expense.

ㅤ"I can't help but respect the hustle. I would've done it for the yen, too," you softly whispered to yourself. You took a few more steps then collapsed on the bench next to the post, shivering at the cold.

ㅤYou sighed as you tilted your head up towards the moon, your breath coming out as white wisps. For a moment, you only counted the stars you could see.

ㅤThen warm tears began to trace your cheeks.

ㅤIf you weren't freezing cold, you would have lifted a hand or two to wipe them away. But it's okay. There's nobody around. You walked far enough to guarantee that. It's pretty stupid to be crying over something so trivial. You've shed a few tears over exams, failed experiments, teacher comments, normal things that you deemed worthy crying over because they were failures—important things that slipped past your logical thinking.

ㅤThis wasn't like that. This wasn't a test below 80% or a shattered beaker, this was your emotions. A consequence you couldn't have foreseen like you could with a grammatical error. All you did was say yes. All you wanted was a date.

ㅤYou closed your eyes, taking shaky breaths.

ㅤ"Moon, why does nothing ever go right for me?" You asked quietly, as if a round rock in earth's orbit could offer you comfort.

ㅤYou tilted your head back down and wiped the tears onto your sleeves.

ㅤ"... What the hell are you doing here?"

ㅤ"WHAT the FUCK, Senku—" you flinched and snapped your head towards the voice, recognizing him immediately. "—where did you—?"

ㅤ"Answer my question first," he deadpanned. Senku was wearing a much better coat than you were. Regular pajama pants, too, and bedhead hair.

ㅤYou turned your head away, still attempting to fix your whole crying situation. "I'm on a walk. Th—the school gym was crowded."

ㅤ"Uh huh." Reluctancy to tell the truth detected. Senku settled on analyzing you and piecing together what actually happened instead—not like it'd be hard, he saw this coming a week ago.

ㅤHe gave a dramatic sigh. "Move over."

ㅤHesitantly, you made room for him on the bench. He sat a little too close. No, that's probably you.

ㅤ"Art freak ditched you?"

ㅤSilence.

ㅤ"I'll take that as a yes. All your critical thinking deficient friends too busy to accompany you?"

ㅤSilence.

ㅤ"Damn, rough night."

ㅤ"Don't say it," you muttered, lowering your head a bit more.

ㅤHe smirked. "Say what?" He teased, leaning closer to you for more effect. "I told you—"

ㅤ"Senku," you stopped him, voice coming out with less confidence and stability than you intended. You sniffled.

ㅤSenku leaned back on the bench and stared straight ahead for a moment of silence. Uncomfortable silence, significantly on his part.

ㅤWere you crying? He could've deducted that from the sight of you moping on the bench earlier when he started walking here, but he sincerely hoped you weren't because he wouldn't know how to deal with that—how to make you feel better.

ㅤHe'd seen you cry before... from afar... with someone else handling it. After all these years, he still didn't wouldn't know what to do exactly.

ㅤOne time, you cried over a failed math test because your friends wanted to take you somewhere fun the night before. They said you worked too hard and that it was important for you to relax every now and then. Senku disagreed with their beliefs, always encouraged you to study more. When you started crying, he thought only about how he was right. When your friends started frantically apologizing, comforting you until you started smiling and laughing again, he wondered if he was wrong.

ㅤLogically, no, not at all.

ㅤEmotionally?

ㅤSenku never bothered with your questionable taste in the people you surround yourself with until then. He realized he forgot to factor in your emotional need for connection, experience, and comfort, and that's why you stuck around those gossipy idiots, half of whom are failing in at least two subjects.

ㅤSenku clicked his tongue and spoke up. "Look, you got stood up by some kid who'll probably be a deadbeat when he grows up, who cares? You'll live. You should be more above this, genius."

ㅤYou shifted slightly. "That's not helpful."

ㅤHe shrugged. "Tch, this isn't my sort of thing to do so have some empathy."

ㅤHe glanced at you and heard a soft chuckle. He smiled. Laughter, good. Clear sign of positive improvement in emotional recovery.

ㅤ"Then why are you trying?" You snickered, leaning back on the bench and tilting your head towards him. The thought of Senku Ishigami, comforting you, was impossible in the way that it was hilarious.

ㅤSenku looked away, trying not to catch your contagious laugh. "Because you were crying."

ㅤSilence.

ㅤHe leaned back and crossed his arms. You only watched, absorbing that singular sentence. Such a simple reason, yet it meant way too much than it should have coming from Senku.

ㅤHe stared at the street, you stared at him.

ㅤ"Shouldn't you be watching Saturn's moons right now?" You blurted.

ㅤSenku looked at you. Was that it? It was that easy to make you feel better? Noted.

ㅤ"Didn't feel like graphing things myself all night." He shrugged, stretching his legs out. "Went on a walk instead and saw your lonely ass moping on a bench."

ㅤ"Besides," he continued, looking up at the night sky. "this is nice, too. Y'know I'm not only into astronomy because of the scientific details and data, right? I mean, c'mon, any person would be curious of this too." Senku gestured at the sky.

ㅤYou followed his gaze. A small smile spread on your lips, the moon offered you comfort after all.

ㅤSenku went on to list 88 more facts about space with words that had too many syllables to count. You were half listening, half wondering why scientific terms always ended in '-tion'.

ㅤIn the middle of his rant, you pulled out your phone.

ㅤ"12:00 AM, happy New Year, Senku," you joked, smiling at him. "The dance is wrapping up by now. I'll just tell my friends I went home early or something." You sighed as you slid lower down the bench, shivering.

ㅤ"Alright, might as well wrap this disaster up too," Senku huffed, standing up with his hands in his pockets. You followed and began walking down the path to your place, Senku walked next to you.

ㅤSilence. Comfortable silence. Just listening to the sound of the cool breeze, clacking of your accessories, and you and Senku's shoes hitting the pavement with each step.

ㅤYou passed by a 24/7 convenience store, glancing up momentarily at the bright light. Senku followed your gaze and stopped walking.

ㅤ"Want something?" He nodded towards the store. You shook your head. He sighed. "Alright, one second."

ㅤSenku took your arm and dragged you into the convenience store.

ㅤYou yelped. "Wh—!?"

ㅤSenku let go of you at the cashier desk, disappearing into one of the aisles. You blinked and made awkward eye contact with the worker.

ㅤYou peeked your head into the shelves. "Senku?" You called out. Senku magically reappeared next to you.

ㅤ"Get yourself a snack or whatever. I'm just looking for something."

ㅤYou shivered. "God, you're like a ghost," you murmured.

ㅤPhone in hand, packet of pastillas in the other. You waited for Senku at the front. He returned with what looked like one of those ice packet things the elementary school office used to hand out to those injury prone kids for bruises and stuff. You decided not to question it. Senku snatched the pastillas from your hand and handed it to the cashier. Before you could pull out your wallet, he had already paid.

ㅤYou narrowed your eyes at him and slowly put your wallet back.

ㅤOn your way out, he pressed something on the ice packet then handed it to you. It was warm.

ㅤ"Ohh, it's a heat pad," you said. Senku nodded.

ㅤ"You looked like you were about to get a secret fourth degree level of frostbite back there."

ㅤYou glared at him but laughed anyway and thanked him, feeling significantly rejuvenated by the warmth. Senku opened your snack.

ㅤ"What are these?" he held one piece up as you two walked side by side. You took one for yourself and popped it in your mouth.

ㅤ"Pastillas," you said, chewing. "They're good, try one."

ㅤSenku ate one and made a face.

ㅤYou snickered at his reaction. "What? Don't like it?"

ㅤHe held the packet up and squinted at the ingredients. "Does this thing have, like, 15 pounds of sugar per serving? Holy." You laughed. "You're going to get one cavity per bite. Never letting you pick snacks again."

ㅤ"I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted to share in the first place. And if you hate it so much, why are you eating more?" You glared, taking the packet back before Senku could toss another piece in his mouth.

ㅤ"I was stating facts, not my true opinion," he countered. "Your taste in convenience store snacks are nutritiously inefficient, but admittedly, not bad." Senku made a hand gesture as he spoke.

ㅤThe rest of the walk to your house was—for one, warmer, and a lot nicer than what you expected with that AP art classmate.

ㅤIn retrospect, you didn't know why you said yes in the first place. It wasn't like you two were super close. It was clearly a one-sided crush. Senku called him a distraction. You knew that. And yet, caught up in the moment of when he asked you after class, you said yes.

ㅤYou made impulsive decisions sometimes. It's a good thing Senku knows how to knock sense into you. Never is it polite nor gentle, but he does it without being prompted, and is always conveniently there for you when it ends in disaster—painfully accurate according to his prediction.

ㅤYou snuck a glance at him while you walked in that same, slow pace, as if you were mutually savouring the moment.

ㅤSenku, the guy who would either solve climate change or become a dictor and involve you in his madness either way, cheered you up, bought you a heat pad and a snack, and then walked you home.

ㅤAre you just now realizing this?

ㅤRealizing him?

ㅤYou faced forward once again, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks.

ㅤFuck. This is going to be your worst distraction yet.

ㅤ"We're here." Senku's voice snapped you out of the clouds. Your eyes darted from his to your home. You muttered a small "Oh" and started walking towards your door.

ㅤYour hand lingered on the door knob. You could already hear Senku's footsteps fading into the quiet of the night.

ㅤThat's a bit unfair of you, isn't it?

ㅤ"Senku," you called out.

ㅤHe turned around with that unfathomable look, like walking you home was just another task on his to-do list that he was satisfied to check off and not an overly romantic gesture you didn't know he was even capable of.

ㅤ"Thank you." You smiled.

ㅤYou caught a glimpse of his smirk before he turned away.

ㅤ"Don't go accepting any more dates with ridiculous guys without consulting me first," he retorted.

ㅤWith a sigh, you entered your house, kicked your shoes off your aching feet (you walked a farther distance than you thought), and collapsed on your bed, fully content with sleeping in your current attire.

ㅤYou threw the empty packet of pastillas in your trash and left the heat pad on your desk.

ㅤYour phone buzzed in your jacket. You hummed, contemplating whether or not you should fall asleep now or answer that.

ㅤOpening your phone, you squinted at the brightness, scrambling to turn it down. You opened the notification. A text from your friend group.

[name]whre are u??????

did thwy get kidnepaped holy shit guys

vroo i told u their date was sketchy asf like

ㅤYou chuckled at their texts and typed out a reply.

i'm fine lol

i went for a walk and ran into senku.

SO U DID GET KIDNEPAPD😥

no, hs walked me home

wair werent you supposed to be with that guy feom yiur art class?

he stood me up, not a big deal.

senku filled in.

ㅤToo tired to elaborate, you dropped your phone on the bed next to you and began to count stars until you fell asleep.

©️ staravyzㅤ(¬_¬") do not steal, translate, or repost.

[satocidal]

im so used to writing gojo ive forgotten how to erite for the other men LMAO

anyways now i want your thoughts on how the jjk men would console the reader if she got rejected

me when any character besides satosugu. it's crazy, my entire masterlist is just them with sprinkles of other characters. like i'm actually very scared of writing anyone else now (and have a superiority complex that i just KNOW them)

but onto this, yes. (these are with assumptions that jjk men and you guys are platonic) don't come @ for toji or nanami👹

I like to think Satoru would unironically throw you a pity party, don't get me wrong, it has everything you Love, expect ofc the person you wanted - and this fact, Satoru reminds you all night through his lame ass jokes. He fully believes in exposure therapy and so, the rejection gets brought up in jokes, at your expense, all night. Somewhere in the night your phone would also get stolen and he would read all the texts between you two, talking about how that didn't age well at all. But he makes up for it, he truly does - when he holds you so tight next to him, reminding just how much better you could do - you do deserve, and just full on bashing them. Makes use of his money to remind you that finer things in life do exist. And uh, duh, binge watching love island because, ofc.

I do believe that Toji would have the worst 'first' response to it - a little, "so?" dropping out of his mouth, or worse, "who didn't see that coming?" and it just makes you feel worse. But but but, he is quite the charmer and he senses it all too quick - so there he is beside you, acting all cool and non-chalant and ready to bestow his wisdom on you, he'll just settle beside you, offering something to drink - his holy grail for tough nights, and mutters a little "it's okay - if it ain't meant to be, it ain't meant to be." Actually very calm about the situation, in facts, for a minute too long, he'll even validate your stupid responses (not for too long, because he can only take so much). However if you need a hug, or a shoulder to cry upon? he's holding you so tight, offering the best quiet night you could want - and reassuring you that things will get better and you always are going to meet someone who'll be it✨for you. lol i can't see him not getting sappy when he comforts you so

A pursed line, a shake of his head and a long sigh punctuate the silence Nanami offers you, the moment you tell him the fact, bro is not amused. To say the least, Nanami was invested - from the very beginning when you had started questioning, stalking that person to slowly eating nanami's brain off about them, he'd been invested - so now he can only offer a sorry smile as he holds you, even he didn't see this coming. Like everytime else, he allows you to ramble, listening wholeheartedly - wincing and grumbling about how the rejection could have been avoided, grimacing that, that person reacted immaturely, staring onto his palm wondering where he went wrong to even allow you to like a person who would act this way. And after all of it, he opens his finest wine because what other ocassion if not for your grief - and then, he starts talking smack. and shit talk he does good, bringing down that person's everything - fashion taste, financial status, past relations - anything and everything, a true hater, such that you end up wondering if nanami was the one who got rejected.

The tea is boiling on the stove - for either case, Suguru had sent you with so many affirmations, it almost felt disappointing to tell him you got rejected. the clench of his jaw is so obvious - but he just smiles, smn in attempt to reassure you further, a little "i see," slips him as he leads you to the couch. You see he can't take it, not the frown you have as you recount the story (he's making mental notes of everything), not the little catching of your words when your throat gets all weird, so on the verge, not when he sees you blinking back the tears. Suguru is a hater, second to only nanami and that is because nanami doesn't pause on the hate track - suguru waits, suguru works his way to heal you first. so many reassurances whispered in your ears as he holds you, already making to-do plans to cheer you up, the hand on remote to browse through the movies you love to watch, other hand recahing to block that person BUT also, silently slipping in the worst responses in your head. telling you how that person never deserved you, how you must be going through smn he didn't notice because how could you like that? there's absolute disgust in his voice - and you know that disgust finally shines when he begins catfishing that person through some account just to get back on them, for you <3

[kale-of-the-forbidden-cities]

Do you have any gravity falls headcanons I could borrow? It can be any character(s) at all, I just need some ideas for a fanfic i'm working on

Thx!

ooh okay!! i'm honored and i'm sorry this took so long to get to

i'm just gonna list a bunch of random ones in the order i think of them and you can pick and choose which ones. i have no idea what your fanfic is about so. you get everyone

big fan of transmasc Dipper, but he's not like the kind of guy to be super open about it until he's more comfortable- he just wants to be a normal guy

Mabel loves owls

Ford somehow never gets hot. he wears his big coat and sweater most of the time, and when he sleeps has a ton of blankets and pillows

(he also feels more comfortable sleeping when he's not "out in the open" probably as a side effect of his multiverse travels)

that being said, he still has somniphobia, depending on the night. he doesn't like sleeping, he knows everything's okay now but it still scares him

Even as a kid, Ford liked wearing long sleeves better and stuff with pockets he could put his hands in. to draw less attention to them and hide them when he wanted to

The little llama Pacifica had in lost legends got thrown out when her parents decided she was too old for it. Llamas have always been her favorite animal and she chose the sweater in weirdmageddon on purpose

continuing the Pacifica tangent, she always has the worst bedhead

Bill once told Ford "you talk too much" and then proceeded to stitch up his mouth the next time he fell asleep

Autism Dipper, but when he gets diagnosed he's like. he has mixed feelings about it. he doesn't want people to know about it because he thinks they won't take him seriously because of it

Fiddleford erased Ford's memories quite a few times while they were working together

Teeth is Bill's favorite henchmaniac and all the others know this

Ford likes Mabel juice

Stan still draws, he has quite a few sketchbooks from over the years. it's quite stylized and if he showed Ford, Ford wouldn't really get it or think it's very good because it's not realistic

Autism Ford too but he doesn't seek a diagnosis or really know about it or anything

Dipper's clones don't have the birthmark

Stan has never said a swear word in front of the kids. Ford tries not to but he has a few times

You'll know if Mabel is mad at someone because they will be covered in glitter. she will shoot them with her glitter gun

(She never does it to Dipper though)

Ford sometimes overshares some of the stuff he went through to Dipper. Dipper just. doesn't say much to that, because what is he supposed to say. Ford asked Dipper not to tell any of it to anyone

Stan sometimes feels really bad about the stuff the kids had to go through

Mabel sticks magnets to Ford's head randomly

she made magnetic cat ears

and a unicorn horn

When Dipper is having bad nights with nightmares or just anxiety, he wakes Mabel up and they have a sleepover on the floor of their room

Next summer, Dipper gets his hat back from Wendy and they swap hats at the end of the summer again, but the summer after that, they end up not swapping back because Dipper doesn't like the Pine Tree reminder of the nickname and the zodiac

Wendy is chill with this

Mabel is only a little taller than Dipper, but the difference is emphasized with Dipper's shrimp posture

Pacifica likes hugs and needs them a lot. but would never ask for them. Instead she just hugs people impulsively sometimes (such as in nwmm and in lost legends)

Dipper uses the oversize pterodactyl bros t shirt as a sleep shirt

Dipper could win any staring contest. He's got that blank autism stare

Ford would try anything once for science

okay i'm out of time maybe i'll add more later

you can tell me what kind of headcanons to narrow it down too

[jesterkoops]

Who was Irving talking to on the pay-phone?

In the first call in 2x01 he says: "Okay. You're not picking up, I get it. I want you to know, my innie got the message". This could either be interpreted as "I get the threat you're making" or "I got the information I needed". Given it is right after the OTC and immediately after Milchick comes over to fire him, it does sound more like a "I get it/I get the threat", so it sounds like he's talking to someone on the inside at Lumon, with power/connection to those who have the power to make a threat. The "you are not picking up" also sounds like this person is lying low for good reason given the circumstances (OTC fallout) not to draw attention to themselves. So someone inside Lumon who had some connection with the OTC? In this call, it could very well be Helena.

However, in 2x05 he says "They fired me". You would expect if his contact is Helena, or a Lumon insider, they would know about him being fired? At the same time, when Helena goes to see Drummond and Natalie at the start of 2x05 she talks about 'the other one who tried to kill me' as if she thinks Irving will still be down there if she gets sent back down. And in 2x02 when Milchick asks her if he should fire the innies, she tells him "let Kier guide your hand", meaning she's pretty much giving him free reign to do what he wants and she's not the one to make the calls on who gets fired.

There's obviously a strong probability it's someone else.. Reghabi, Cobel, Natalie (Reghabi is the most obvious and boring one, and I don't know that they would keep it as big of a mystery so I'm inclined to rule it out). Or someone we haven't met yet. Or someone we will never meet and these calls are just a way to show us Irving is doing some work against Lumon. But it would be so ironic if it were indeed Helena and add so many layers to their dynamic. Irving's innie unknowingly attempting to drown the one ally he has on the outside. His innie recognising her not because "Helly was never cruel" but because he does know her on the outside and that knowledge somehow permeated the barrier on a subconscious level. Helena trying to bond with his innie because she bonded with his outie, but it doesn't work because the transcendence only works the other way around from innie to outie. Helena referring to him dismissively as "the other one who tried to kill me" in 2x05, almost like wanting to put distance between her and Irving. And then Helena arranges for Burt to go and "take care of him" in 2x09.

It's unlikely, especially if the turning point for Helena to start being conflicted towards Lumon was her experience with the innies while she was posing as Helly, and obviously whoever was in contact with Irving has been for a while. But, boy, wouldn't it be fun?

[diariesofthelost]

Are You Really Mad?

{First person POV, Jealousy, Mild Sexual Content}

"It's been two hours already Caleb." I say annoyed.

"I know babe, I can't help it." he says looking at me with a nervous smile.

I didn't think coming with Caleb to a reunion basketball game would be this way. Some of his old friends from college had asked him to play and I was all for it. That is until, now as I stand here watching my boyfriend be pawned all over like this. He's not actually paying any attention to them, but it bugs me how much he's getting.

"Pip-squeak, please don't give me that look." Caleb begs.

"What look Caleb?" I ask my words laced with sarcasm.

No of course I'm not going to make it easy. After his team won, he didn't even bother to kiss me. Just ran straight into his crowd of 'admirers'.

"Babe please..." he says urgently.

I grab his hand and look him in the eye. I am starting to get a little mad. Theres just the one girl who won't take her eyes off him.

"Can we go? Please... I'm starting to get uncomfortable." I reply back. I'm not lying, he just doesn't have to know why.

Caleb nods and his grip on my hands tightens. He bids goodbye to his friends and the groupies. Finally.

We make our way home to our shared apartment and as soon as we get through the door I grab Caleb's hand and pull him over to the couch. With a swift motion I push him down and straddle his lap. His hands instinctively find their place on my hips.

"Pip-squeak, what has gotten into you?" he asks, a little concerned but more aroused.

"I couldn't take it. Caleb, you being surrounded by all those women...them eying you like you were theirs.." I admit my jealousy surfacing now.

I know Caleb is hot and on top of that he has money and power. I never cared about his status as Colonel; I didn't fall in love with him because of his power. We grew up together. I fell in love with the dork that played sports and got on my nerves.

"Ok," he sighs, pulling me into a cradle position "Let's talk. We're not doing anything until I can put your mind at ease," he says gently.

"I don't want to talk about it; can't we just do this instead..." I say as I try to kiss him. I don't need to talk about it. I want to fuck it out. Can't he see that.

"No, babe. Sex isn't going to make you feel less jealous or insecure," he says stroking my hair. "Although, if you're still in the mood after we sort this out then I'll let you do whatever you want." he adds with a smile.

I sigh, knowing he's right. He usually is.

"What do you want to know?" I ask, my voice calmer now.

"Why didn't you just tell me the women were making you uncomfortable. You know I would've rushed them off sooner or even left sooner if you had. Don't you trust me Pip-squeak?" he asks his voice laced with concern.

Of course I trust him. He wasn't doing anything wrong anyway but how do you explain to someone you trust them but not the people around them? Or better yet, how do you explain that you feel like other people shouldn't even have the right to look at them at all, that you feel like they belong to you?

I sigh and look away embarrassed.

"Caleb... I don't really know how to explain it. I just... I want you all to myself and tonight as they were looking at you.... it reminded me that I'm replaceable." I say tears threatening to spill out of the corner of my eyes.

Caleb pulls me into a tight hug.

"Hey now, you are not replaceable... baby I promise you that. You are the only woman I have ever loved, the only one I look at and crave." he reassures me.

He's good at that. I know what he says is true. I've never doubted Caleb. Not once.

We talk for a few more minutes as I explain what made me so jealous. He listens and responds with purpose. This is the Caleb I fell in love with. The man who never shrugs me off or invalidates me despite how insecure I can get.

"Do you feel better Pip-squeak?" he asks poking my side.

I want to tell him no, after all he did make me talk when all I wanted was dick but as he begins to poke me, I can't help but smile and laugh.

"Alright! You win, yes, I feel better!" I blurt out laughing.

"That's my girl." he says, his voice low and husky. "Are you still in the mood?" he asks as he plays with the hem of my shirt.

Am I? I thought I would be, but if I'm being honest, I think that surge was due to my previous feelings of jealousy and possessiveness.

"Actually, is it ok if we just get ready for bed and cuddle?" I ask, I already know the answer. Caleb knows me well and would never press sex.

He nods and carries me to the bathroom. We shower off together, washing each other and then get out readying ourselves for bed.

He pulls me into a tight embrace and holds me close.

His cologne is amazing.

I settle in against him and let our bodies become a tangled mess.

"Is this better Pip-squeak?" he asks his voice already laced with sleep.

This is perfect. Just him and me. The smell of his cologne and the feel of his body. It's all the reassurance I need, that even if me and Caleb have never told each other as much, we are completely bound to each other and only each other.

"Yes, my love. It's perfect." I say as I let out a breath drifting off myself.

{Enjoy, if anyone has any requests you can send them my way. I would love to write for you}