#You can't even imagine HOW FAST I was drawing this

[fareehaandspaniards]

character bingo : edgar, and yurie :}

Them!!! First of all they are very silly, especially Yurie (I can't NOT drop a shitpost here, I am sorry)

NOW about bingo

I so rarely post about Yurie, but I love her much! And this is that rare case of self-projection on a fictional character for me…. Partial! I think we could sit down together in a Not-a-simp tavern and have many, many drinks…. (insert lenny face)

With Yurie I can come up with a lot of silly and funny situations….. And it's such a relief. Because I used to be offended to make jokes about female characters, and it's so wrong. Make jokes about everyone, or don't make jokes AT ALL

She is not my hyperfixation, but she is MY TYPE. There's not much to say about the design - she wears the standard Choir uniform. Yurie is my favourite girl-failure, I might say. At least I see her as a failed hero. She is capable of anything, LITERALLY, if she gets her butt kicked and forehead kissed by Imposter-Iosefka. I will hold Yurie GENTLY

No one can prove to me that Edgar does NOT look hot. His huge nose? YES. His nerdish look? YES. Everything in him? HOT

Everyone else is wrong, just because you want some new interpretations of the character. In my headcanons, I gave him a very strong empathy (he is little augur himself), lost in life, and disgust to Ebrietas… Also auntie Yurie lol And many-many things... I think he is incredibly mean but kind person...

Would kiss of course!!! And of course he exists, I see many Edgars when I am at work... The lack rosmarinus and Holy Sword of Ludwig tho. I am very Normal abour Edgar. If I start talking about him, it'll come out as usual a big post-biography with headcanons lol (And now it's Logarius' turn, so Edgar is sitting on the sidelines, I've given him enough attention in the fanfics of every sort xD)

Thanks for the ask!

[keeps-ache]

trying to get better at backgrounds which means i need to get better with 3d space but i'm really really bad at estimating distances and length fhvsdh

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1260 words

series masterlist ; main masterlist this is part one of this blurb! the next part will be smut! this was supposed to one whole blurb, but unfortunately, i can't stop adding details

A week had passed since that toe-curling, heart stopping kiss with James, yet the memory clung to you, refusing to loosen its grip. Every moment replayed in your mind—the way his breath had mingled with yours, the warmth of his lips, the intoxicating mix of hesitation and desire that had crackled between you. It was impossible to shake, no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind.

But life, as it often does, had intervened. Work had been intense for both of you. His late nights at the office, followed by early morning school drop-offs, and your endless deadlines and marathon meetings had drained you both, leaving little room for anything else—especially the conversation you so desperately needed.

But you were hoping tonight would be different. He’d asked if you could watch Henry, and you’d never refused him before. And you weren’t about to start now.

“Darling?” Henry mumbled, his voice carrying that endearing tone that always made you smile. As he grew older, the nickname was losing its childish lisp, becoming clearer and more deliberate with each passing day. You couldn’t let yourself dwell on it, knowing it would bring you to tears. And as much as it weighed on you, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how James was feeling.

“Yeah, my love?” You hummed, your eyes still fixed on The Rescuers playing on the TV. Henry had insisted on watching it in James’s room because he wanted to “see the mice all big.” At first, you hesitated, unsure if being surrounded by James’s scent was a good idea. But Henry’s excitement was impossible to resist, and you found yourself giving in, despite your nerves.

“When is daddy back?”

“Um,” You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Soon I would think.”

“Oh.” Henry murmurs, shifting closer to cuddle into your side, his tiny hand reaching out to grasp yours. The two of you are nestled under the dark duvet, surrounded by the seven stuffed animals he insisted on bringing along. “I miss him,” he whispers, his voice tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m sure he misses you too.” You say, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with those unmistakable eyes—his father’s eyes—brown and sweet, carrying the same warmth that James’ have. His dark curls fall messily across his forehead, a mirror of James’s unruly hair. Even the curve of his smile, so innocent yet so familiar, pulls at your heart. It’s impossible not to see James in every feature, every expression, and every little gesture Henry makes. 

All you can think about is James.

“Do you miss daddy?” Your lips part, flustered and caught off guard by the question. For a second you debate lying, but you realize there’s no point. 

“Yes, I miss him too.” You finally murmur, and Henry’s face lights up with a grin, as if he’s just heard the most wonderful thing. He turns his gaze back to the TV, his attention returning to the movie, while he snuggles his stuffed dinosaur tightly in the hand that isn’t holding yours. The sight of him, so content and secure, tugs at your heart.

The movie has long finished and another has begun, but you’re oblivious to it all. Henry is fast asleep, nestled into your side, and you’re not far behind. Your focus is solely on threading your fingers gently through Henry’s dark curls. The rhythmic motion that had soothed him to sleep now lulls you as well, your eyes growing heavy with each tender stroke.

“Hey.” James murmurs with a warm, inviting smile, immediately drawing your gaze to the doorway where he stands. His white button-up shirt is casually open at the collar, the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and as he crosses his arms, the fabric tightens over his biceps, accentuating their firm definition. Your eyes slowly trace down to his forearms, where the veins are subtly prominent. The combination of his relaxed stance and the his snug shirt makes your pulse quicken.

You resist the urge to fan yourself.

You swallow hard, struggling to pull your gaze back up. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grins, and you know instantly he’s caught you. “What are you two doing in here?” He asks, walking further into his room, glancing down at the stuffies with a soft chuckle

“Henry missed you,” You say softly. “That and he wanted to watch a movie on the big TV.”

“Of course he did.” James says with a soft, knowing tone. He rounds the bed and settles next the side closest to Henry. With a gentle touch, he brushes a few stray curls from his son’s forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment. Then, leaning down, he places a tender kiss on Henry’s forehead.

“I’m going to put him to bed.” James says softly, his voice soft as he looks up at you from his kneeling position by the bed. You nod quickly, your words caught in your throat.

You watch as James moves with practiced ease, sliding one hand tenderly behind Henry’s back and slipping the other under his knees. He lifts him carefully, his movements gentle yet confident, raising Henry up and off your chest. As hedoes, Henry lets out a soft whine, his small face scrunching up in a mix of sleepiness and longing. With a tiny, outstretched arm, he reaches toward you, his fingers stretching as far as they can go, desperate to grab you.

“No.” He huffs, his eyes opening the tiniest bit to glance up at his dad.

“It’s bedtime.” James says softly, drawing Henry close to his chest and gently reaching down to grab the stuffed dinosaur Henry clings to. 

“No! But I—” Henry protests, wriggling in James’s arms. He twists around, casting a desperate look over his shoulder at you. “I want mummy.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes dart to James, wide with shock. He mirrors your surprise. With one arm securely wrapped around Henry’s squirming body, he struggles to keep his son from wriggling free. Henry’s little face is flushed with frustration, his eyes locked onto yours as he reaches out with tiny, pleading hands, desperate for your comfort.

“Do you want to say goodnight to mum before bed?” James asks quietly, leaning down to speak into Henry’s ear. Henry stops squirming instantly and nods. Gently, James places his son back onto the bed, and Henry immediately flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck. He collides with you with a soft thud, and you hear James mutter about being gentle with you.

“Goodnight,” You say whisper, one arm holding him to you and the other holding the back of his head. “I love you bunches. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Your eyes flicker up to meet James’ who is watching you with an indescribable look.

“Love you.” Henry mumbles, the sleepiness in his voice affecting his pronunciation. Then he leans back and plants a big kiss on your forehead, mimicking the affectionate gesture he’s seen his father make so many times. You laugh quietly and press a kiss on his nose in return. Satisfied, Henry crawls back to his father and lifts his arms. James picks him up, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’ll be right back.” James says softly before heading to Henry’s room. As he walks away, Henry peeks over his shoulder and waves a tiny hand at you.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

part two here!

[writers-potion]

Storyediting Questions to Ask

As You Read the First Draft:

Are there place that surprised you as you read your first draft? - Why do you suppose that is? - Is there material there you'd like to expand?

What are the character really doing in this story? - Might they have issues you haven't explored fully yet?

Look to the places that drag. - These might be scenes where you have avoided dealing with something deeper. - What are the characters really thinking in these places? - What are their passions, frustrations, and desires?

Imagine alternative plotlines. - How might your plot be different if ti headed off on another tangent from various points in the story? - You don't have to follow them, but they might suggest other streams that can flow into the main plot.

Think About Structure:

Does you story play out naturally in three acts?

Is there an immediate disturbance to the Lead's world?

Does the first doorway of no return occur before the one-fifth mark?

Are the stakes being raised sufficiently?

Does the second doorway of no return put the Lead on the path to the climax?

Does the rhythm of the sotyr match your intent? If this is an action novel, does the plot move relentlessly forward? If this is a character-driven novel, do the scenes delve deeply enough?

Are there strongly motivated characters?

Have coincidence been established?

Is something happeing immediately at the beginning? Did you establish a person in a setting with a problem, onfronted with change or threat?

Is the timeline logical?

Is the story too predictable in terms of sequence? Should it be rearranged?

About Your Lead Character:

Is the character memorable? Compelling? Enough to carry a reader all the way through the plot?

A lead character has to jump off the page. Does yours?

Does this character avoid cliches? Is he capable of surprising us?

What's unique about the character?

Is the character's objective strong enough?

How does the character grow over the course of the story?

How does the character demonstrate inner strength?

About Your Opposition:

Is your oppositing character interesting?

Is he fully realized, not just a cardboard cutout?

Is he justified (at least in his own mind) in his actions?

Is he believable?

Is he strong as or stronger than the Lead?

About Your Story's Adhesive Nature:

Is the conflcit between the Lead and opposition crucial for both?

Why can't they just walk away? What holds them together?

About Your Scene:

Are the big scenes big enough? Surprising enough? Can you make them more original, unanticipated, and draw them out for all they are worth?

Is there enough conflict in the scenes?

What is the least memorable scene? Cut it!

What else can be cut in order to move the story relentlessly forward?

Does the climactic scene come too fast (through a writer fatigue)? Can you make it more, write it for all it's worth?

Does we need a new minor subplot to build up a saggin midsection?

About Your Minor Characters:

What is their purpose in the plot?

Are they unique and colorful?

Polishing Questions:

Are you hooking the reader from the beginning?

Are suspenseful scenes drawn out for the ultimate tension?

Can any information be delayed? This creates tension in the reader, always a good thing.

Are there enough surprises?

Are character-reaction scenes deep and interesting?

Read chapter ending for read-on prompts

Are there places you can replace describing how a character feels with actions?

Do I use visual, sensory-laden words?

For a Dialogue Read-Through:

Dialogue is almost always strengthened by cutting words within the lines.

In dialogue, be fair to both sides. Don't give one character all the good lines.

Greate dialogue surprises the reader and creates tension. View it like a game, where the players are trying to outfox each other.

Can you get more conflict into dialogue, even emong allies?

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[polakina]

how they fuck you

red dead redemption headcanons #2

hc masterlist // masterlist

on my third playthrough of rdr2 and i cannot bring myself to play low honour. why do i put myself through this?

also this is ridiculously long, got a little carried away but i shall not apologise

rating: explicit

-

is always gentle with you at first

delicate touches, lingering kisses, gazing eyes at your every movement or ministration

"what do you want, mi amor? tell me"

loves to hear you beg for him, want him

it just turns him on even more

dirty talk through the ROOF

this man knows how to talk you through it

"fuck you feel amazing, hermosa. yeah, just like that, huh? anything for you"

will eat you out for days if he could

never really tried it before, even when he lived in Mexico, he never really gave it a go

but with you, he wanted to try everything. whatever you wanted, he was up for it

so when you first asked him, he was nervous as hell, but willing to try

he found out he loved it and does it every single fucking time he had you all to himself

buries himself between your thighs like a man starved, his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs to keep you still

his tongue worked fucking wonders on your pussy, knowing exactly where to focus his attention, loving how you always moaned a little softer when his tongue dipped inside your cunt

fucks you slow, savouring the moment when he can

loves to have you riding him. seeing you on top spurs something inside him

his hands grip your waist fiercely, guiding your hips to grind against him, pulling sweet, elicit moans from your throat

loves to cut your clothes from your body with his knife

it's so much more satisfying than just taking them off with his hands

kinda likes quickies. prefers taking his time but there's something about pulling you away for a few minutes to have his way with you behind the protection of a tree or something that he loves

usually happens out on missions, so there's risk of the gang seeing you guys, but what's life without a little risk?

you could be on watch beside your tent while everyone sleeps, and javier will come over to keep you company

but it doesn't take long for his hand to slip into your pants as he whispers all sorts of things in your ear as he sits behind you while you try and continue your watch duty

was terrible at aftercare before, never really understood the in's and out's of it

but learned eventually with you, when you explained it to him

now he's at your beck and call whenever you need it

wear this man's hat around camp and that's all he needs to pull you to a secluded tent

but wear it while you fuck him? arthur would die happy in that exact moment

likes to call you 'cowgirl' when you ride him. you always roll your eyes at how stupid it sounds, but it doesn't stop him

the two of you don't have all the time in the world. being one of dutch's most trusted members, he's needed away from camp a lot more than anyone else

so you've both learned the art of being fast

and it doesn't take long for him to make you cum

never asks for them, but loves blowjobs

he likes to draw in his tent when he's got time to himself, so when he sees you come in and sink to your knees in between his lap, he can't think of a better sight

the absolute king of praises (have you heard how he talks to his horse?? imagine him talking to a woman oml)

not a fan of degrading, he never saw the appeal, but uses other methods to 'punish' you

"what do you want, darlin?" he'd say as he's fucking you from behind, your face pressed into the pillow to stifle your moans, your ass in the air held up by his hands on your hips. "oh babygirl, you wanna cum, huh? then you can beg me for it, can't you?"

will edge you for days

especially when he knows he's going to be away for a few days afterwards

definitely grabs the headboard

mainly for his own stability to be able to thrust into you harder as you moan his name into the room

has his hands on you at all times

holding your hands above your head by your wrists, holding your face against the mattress with his hand on the back of your neck, curling his fingers in your hair and gently yanking your head back when he pounds into you

when you do get a night away from camp, he wants to make it last the whole night

takes his time with you to the point where he's practically teasing you for hours

takes his time undressing you, kissing every part of your body, touching every part of you until his fingerprints were practically imprinted into your skin

give this man some guidance or it's like walking through a maze blindfolded

learned a lot with you

figured out really quick what you liked and what you didn't like, what places he could touch you that would send your head spinning

this eventually led him to learn how to be very sneaky in public

he could touch you in such simple places, in such an innocent way that no one else would think anything of it

but you'd know, and you wouldn't stop it

you like the way he touched your neck? he was all over that shit, cupping your cheek, his fingers tickling your neck

you liked his hands in your hair? his fingers tangled at the base of your neck, pulling your hair slightly to tease you

his hand would rest on your thighs, fingers slowly creeping up your thigh while you were all sat around the campfire

you'd always give him a little glare, which he would ignore, a goofy smirk on his face

and the way he fucked you was no different

he had mastered the art of teasing your body and your limits, and put that knowledge in every time he had you alone

"come on, marston. stop teasin' me like this"

he'd always smirk, working his way down your body in a painfully slowly manner

"i'm takin' my time with you, sweetheart. you just lay back and relax. lemme take care of you"

loved to make you feel good before he even thought about himself

but when he was too pent up, he came a lot quicker than he wanted

but he made up for it when tending to you afterwards until you were practically pushing him away, too sensitive for his expert fingers

not the best at going down on you, but makes up with experience

but what he's really good with is his hands

his fingers

they know exactly what they're doing when he pushes them inside your soaked pussy

curling at that devastating spot inside you that makes you crumble to your knees

loves to be on top of you, seeing your face contort when he pushes inside you slowly, deeply

he's basic, a lover of missionary, but seeing your face and watching your body writhe under his grip is really what turns him on

[naokyunnn]

NSFW and nsfw link ahead...

🐚 rising back from the dead with : Satoru x fem!reader, big dick satoru as usual, pussy rubbing and eventual fuck 😸

Just imagine sweet bf Satoru....

He absolutely love to spoil you, he never asked anything in return, never demanded any weird shit from you other than a simple kiss or just tag along him wherever he wanted to go.

But not when you showed off that cute panties that you bought in set with his money along with other stuff....

For once Satoru wanted to be selfish... he wanted you and nothing else, gosh-- he didn't wanna make you uncomfortable for making it seems like he's doing this in return for your body but-- damn you look so damn cute in those panties. He didn't wanna break an angel like you.

But there you are, lying on your back legs on both sides of Satoru's thighs, his dick relentlessly rubbing under your panties just bumping right on your clit. Frustrated moans and grunts filled the room as you feel the wetness that is now enveloping the front of your panties mixed of your wetness and Satoru's precum.

"Ah--fuck you're killing me with those panties baby- hah" Satoru draws out with a strained groan as he thrust under the material.

Your eyebrows curled upwards while looking down where the two of you rub against one another, the sight of it is enough to draw a moan of your throat.

"Why-- Why can't you just put it in" You almost whined but you knew in the back of your mind that his size will require you so much prep. Satoru let out an almost growl as he grips the top of your thighs.

"You're talking like you can handle it in one go" Satoru flashed you a lazy smirk as those crystal blue eyes look down at your laying position, drinking in your appearance, and how you look so fucked out he's not even doing anything.

His sticky tip run along your wet folds again, pressing his thumb on his length on top of those soaked panties to give more pressure to your clit as he rub his head along your folds. That action is enough to make your head dizzy and clouded in pleasure but your hole still clenches on nothing.

"Please-- 'toru, i dont care i want it inside me fuck!"

Satoru didn't even listen to you as he got lost on the feeling of the soppy feeling of your cunt against his tip-- and fuck, the wet noises too. Satoru knew he was gone.

"Fuuck-- im gonna cum already- fuck fuck" Satoru let out a shaky moan as he started picking up his thrust, the sensation of his swollen tip brushing even more faster against your folds and to your clit now. Satoru pressed down even harder on his length to create more pressure on you.

"Gonna cum-- ah! Gonna cum 'toru" You whimpered before the shuddering feeling washes over you, creating more wetness on Satoru's tip under your soaked panties.

Your moans and whimpers just fueled Satoru's building up orgasm and so, he came so fast coating the mound of your pussy with his load, but he didn't stop there...

A groan draws out of Satoru's throat, breathing heavily as his blue eyes found your fucked out state, chest heaving fast with your eyes closed shut and your mouth slightly agape.

He let out a almost a whimper sound when he kept on rubbing his stingy tip against your folds, making you twitch a bit in overstimulation-- you let out a almost pained moan as Satoru keep on rutting, but due to his cum that coated your folds it made it easy to rub against you over and over until his head just nudged past your hole.

"Fuck--"

The both of you almost said in unison, as a moan slipped out of the both of you. Satoru didn't move, he kept his tip inside your cunt and looked up at you with those hazy eyes.

"Think you can take it?" Satoru asked breathlessly as he carefully move his hip, hands moving the soaked panties aside to see the way your cute pussy hugs the tip of his dick-- and my god, it almost made him cum again.

"Yeah, yes please... just... slow" You replied in between panted breaths, and gulped down dryly. That is enough for Satoru to fuck his tip into you slowly for your comfort but little by little your pussy sucked him in by themselves and you were so damn tight.

"Tight fucking pussy-- Hah" Satoru growled and leaned forward to bury his face against tour neck, thrusting his halfway through dick inside you. You couldn't hide your own moans, voluming up to something you didn't even expect you can.

"Toru--Toru Ah! So big fuuuck-- so good" You moaned like a bitch under Satoru, almost writhing around and grabbing what you can just to ground yourself, Satoru moaned in return, eyes never leaving the way your face contorts in pleasure.

"You can take it baby its okay-- its okay... you taking it sooo good-- Ah" Satoru cooed in between breathy moans and he picked up the pace, fucking his length all the way in and drawing out halfway to thrust in to you again and again.

Your cries filled the room, nasty wet sounds of Satoru fucking you relentlessly goes along with it. It affected Satoru more than he expected to be, goddamnit he loves that he's the one making you fall apart like this that he feel like he's going to cum so fast again.

"Gonna cum again angel-- ohfuckfuck-- Gah" Satoru closed his eyes shut, his hand gripping your hips so tight that it could bruise.

Your hand reached down to rub your own clit so you can cum with Satoru. Glossy eyes look up at his ocean blue ones and just kept the eyes contact.

"Gonna make yourself cum for me? Baby? Huh?" Satoru asked un between his groans, and watched where you're rubbing your clit and let out a guttural moan. "Fuck-- yeah touch yourself"

When Satoru realized what you're doing he just snaps and came hard immediately by just the look in your eyes.

Your orgasm followed, legs twitching around Satoru as he let out a moan along you when you came. He stayed there, slumped on top of you, matching your heavy breathing, not long a while he spoke.

"Next time...hah.... keep on wearing those granny panties so it wont turn me on- ow!" You pinched the side of his ass cheeks in retaliation.

"You saying my old panties are granny panties?" You scoffed before Satoru giggled playfully against your neck.

inspired by this link i saw here... 🫣

divider creds: chilumitos

[princeguri66]

Leave a mark

MINORS DNI

Monster!John "Soap" Mactavish (with Poly Monster!141 at the end) x Male Reader

Cw: it starts off with Soap but the rest r mentioned and written but not as much as soap, marking with markers, nothing else I believe lmk

Silly thought but like imagine a monster reader who has crazy fast regeneration. Like deep cuts heal in seconds. Maybe you're a ghoul who just has crazy regen, or something like that.

Anyways,

Wouldn't a relationship between Soap, who loves leaving bites and see the aftermath due to his instincts as a werewolf and you who literally heals in seconds be interesting?

He loves getting fucked by you, but everytime he leaves a bit unsatisfied. It's not because you can't make him cum or anything, hell you can pull multiple orgasms from the guy and you have.

It's just that he can't leave satisfied knowing that he left a mark on you. He has bit you so much but the marks just won't stay. With the other members he can clearly see the marks he left on their neck and shoulders, even with Price who due to his dragon blood heals faster but the marks still stay for a day or two.

So everytime you two fuck, even if his ass if filled to the brim and his balls are empty he still whines because he can't leave his mark on you. You're a member of the 141, his pack, so it pains him that he can't put a claim on you like he has with the others.

So one day you get a bit creative.

One night in your room where he's riding on your cock, bouncing up and down while you lay your back on the bed, your hands gripping his hips and slamming him down on you as you cum. He leans down and bites as hard as he can on you as the feeling of you filling him up makes him cum. Pulling away and only being able to whine because he can't even admire his mark before it fades away.

"Aw, is puppy unsatisfied?" You tease and chuckle. And before he could insist that he was, you reached to the bedside table and picked up a red permanent marker, "why don't you mark me with this instead?" You say handing him the marker.

He huffs out a laugh at your little solution, but it's the best you got since you can't really make yourself regenerate slower. So he indulges, testing the marker on the back of your hand, the ink incredibly opaque so it stands out against your skin. Then he draws a bite mark at your neck then adds "Soap's Claim" in big letters, covering the whole left side of your neck.

He leans back, the bright red against your skin and the obvious letters, he finally sighs a sigh of relief.

It doesn't go unnoticed as well (just how he likes it)

The other members of the task force noticing Soap's eyes seem a bit brighter and his tail has been swaying peacefully the whole day. And that's where you enter, neck bare for everyone to see (it's the least you can do) Soap grins, happy to finally be able to show off his claim on you.

And now they want to have their names on your body too.

It's all color coordinated too now, Price who loves to write across your shoulder blades, with words like "Price's hoard" or just a simple "Price" with a heart next to it, it's simple but huge.

Gaz with a bright blue marker who likes to do it on your lower back (because he can also rest his head on your ass) writing something like "Gaz was here" and likes to draw wings on you. (Wing themed tramp stamp with 141 between the wings anyone?)

And Ghost with either white or black who loves to mark your chest, either a simple "ghost" or "Simon Riley" on each pec. Also likes to draw a ghost doodle on top of your heart.

And if you five fuck together, you aren't the only one who ends up having ink on you, but you'd have the most. And when you wake up to find a big arrow pointing to your dick and ass that says "Property of 141" written in multiple colors, you'd wish you could show it off.

[feyascorner]

Imagine Tav who has a thing for deep voices (ahem Astarion’s when he gets all low and breathy and AHHHHH) and he notices. I’d combust

AGLAGKJL I HAVE OTHER REQUESTS BUT I SAW THIS AND I HAD TO WRITE IT IMMEIDATELY HES JUST SOOO....also warning this is a bit suggestive nothing terrible but i also haven't written anything other than fluff and angst in ages so i might be a little rusty....

You have barely any breath left in your lungs, and you think you wouldn't mind dying this way. He shoves the door to your shared room open with his back as you push him through it, lips molding against his in a heated wave of passion. Your fingers entangle themselves in his white curls, pulling at them just gently enough to draw out a low groan from his throat, and in an instant, he has your back pressed against the wall, both hands holding either side of your face as if it's the last time he'll get to touch you.

And as much as you wouldn't mind dying from suffocation here, being ever so perceptive, he pulls away to lean his forehead against your own, watching as your chest heaves up and down in a helpless attempt to catch your breath. He pinches one of your cheeks. "It's a relief that one of us needs air to remain conscious. If you were to become like myself, I'm not confident we'd actually ever stop."

"I never said we needed to stop," you say breathlessly.

"You don't need to tell me," he leans forward to press his lips against the area where he usually sinks his teeth into your neck. Instead of the familiar prick, all you feel are his cool lips peppering kisses on your skin. "Your body, and how it responds to me...it does all the talking for you."

And much to your embarrassment, his words are sent straight to the hammering of your heart. It must be the way he says it---so softly, yet rough. Teasing, yet honest. Low enough to drop his voice an octave but not enough to take away its usual charm. And the worst is the breathiness adorning his very words. For someone who doesn't need to breathe, he certainly sounds like he does it a lot.

You feel him nip at a sensitive spot of your neck and practically yelp, earning a snicker from the culprit in front of you.

"Your heart's beating quite fast, darling," he says slowly, almost in a whisper. "Are just a few words enough to rile you up so much?"

You remain silent, afraid all sanity you have left will snap if you dare to speak.

"But that's not all, is it? No, my sweet, you only feel this way about my words because I'm the one saying it," you can hear the grin in his tone. He pulls away from your neck, lifting his head back where he can meet your eyes. "Do you like when I say things like this? Vulnerable? Sensual? Seductive?--"

You slap your palms across his mouth, heat practically radiating off of your face, as you feel his fangs through his smile. He knows, you think, face paling. He knows how you respond to just his stupid voice, and you know him more than enough to expect the worst from the power you've given him. It's humiliating almost---but more than anything, you want him to shut up. To stop talking to you in that way that brings butterflies to your stomach, to stop looking at you as if you're the most desirable person in all of Faerun, to stop just existing in the moment---

Astarion gently pries your hands away from his face, satisfaction more than apparent in his expression. "No use being bashful now. I'm not offended at all. If anything, I'm rather flattered to know you find even my voice as attractive as the rest of me."

"Please stop talking."

"You don't mean that, clearly."

You grab a nearby pillow and smush it against his cheek, pushing him away.

With a soft laugh, he takes the pillow from your hands, placing it beside him to look at you properly. You want to hide away in a hole forever, but you can't do much other than look to the ground, beyond embarrassed. His obvious amusement doesn't do much to soothe you.

"Look at me, darling."

"Hells no."

"Will you listen if I whisper it to you?"

You shoot him a glare, and he laughs again.

So instead of convincing you any further, he takes either of your hands. His voice is low again, and you swear he's doing it on purpose. "We all have our quirks, my love. I enjoy drinking your delicious blood in our nights of passion, and you enjoy listening to my wonderful voice during them."

"Did you just compare this to being a vampire?"

"This and that. Same thing."

The quirk of your brow is enough to tell him of your annoyance, making him squeeze your hand with a grin. You'd throw him out if he weren't so pretty. Those long lashes, the white curls, that irritatingly beautiful shade of his eyes...Gods, you're helpless. But something tells you that the feeling is mutual. Wordlessly, you find yourself leaning closer again, and his grin stretches wider. "So talking lowly does seem to work its charm on you."

You snort, rolling your eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."

"As you wish."

[pomefioredove]

Can I pretty please have The housewardens (Plus Ruggie and Rook) with a kawaii metal singer? Like soft feminine voice and cutesy outfits and then on stage is just death screaming and gets embarrassed because apparently "Guys find it embarrassing when fem people metal scream."

interesting... I'll see what I can do!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ kawaii metal singer

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, ruggie, azul, kalim, vil, rook, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral but implied feminine in the way they dress, reader is not specified to be yuu

imagine having a conversation about music with Riddle

he's pleasantly surprised!

he thought he had nothing in common with you

but you're a musician!

to him, mastering an instrument is akin to mastering a subject or acing an exam

and he'll talk your ear off about his favorite composers and concertos

of course, he's curious about what you play

so, you show him a song

and he's...

...well...

it's... music, he supposes

it takes the same skill to play (perhaps even more?) so he's still impressed. just... surprised!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona's reaction? yawn

a musician is just like a theater kid with a weapon

based on the way you dress, he can already guess

piano? pop? wannabe indie?

undoubtedly something upbeat and fast

that he has no interest in

it's not until he starts hearing the whispers that he gives it a second thought

funny enough, it's the other boy's dislike that draws him in

and, oh, was he wrong

the first time Leona hears you screaming, he's smitten

you've got some voice on you, that's for sure

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ruggie already associates femininity with strength

(whether you're girl or not, mind you)

so, he's not really taken aback or 'nothin

you show him a clip of one of your performances, and his reaction is more like:

"Cool. Nice chords. What's for dinner?"

he knows that not everyone is gonna see it that way

but to him, it's nothing to write home about

...unless he thinks you're gonna be a good provider for him

then he might tell his grandma he's bringing you home for break

"How much do you singers make, anyway?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Azul was captivated from the start

when Jade came back to him with intel on you, he wasn't expecting you to be a singer

how intriguing...

Azul is a musical person himself, so, of course he was curious

but it's not until he tries to strike a deal with you that he realizes he was very, very wrong

your voice in exchange for anything you desire...

...and you start laughing at him

"my voice? do you know what I sing?"

Azul is a little taken aback by your reaction

now, what's so funny?

eventually, you share a little of your work, and he...

...well, he's impressed, that's for sure

it takes a lot of vocal training to be able to do that

but unless Floyd takes up a new hobby, he has no use for a metal singer's voice

so, for now, he'll simply admire your talent from afar

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

People tend to see Kalim as this witless little flower who can't be exposed to anything "scary"

and, sure, he can be naive at times

but it actually takes a lot to freak him out

he's also been hanging out with Lilia Vanrouge for two years, so, you know

he'd just be impressed, if anything

"Wow, that's so cool! I wish I could do that, but my voice can't go that high, and Jamil doesn't want me to hurt my throat..."

I mean, really impressed

he'll beg you to show him all of your songs

and he might try to get you to one of his club meetings, too

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is more like,

"Well, I hope you're taking adequate care of your throat. You'll overexert yourself if not,"

...so, no

he's not even phased by it

Vil is a performer himself, after all

he's more concerned with your physical and mental wellbeing than you being "embarrassing"

the next day, he'll show up at your door with an armful

this is for your throat, this will keep your skin from drying out under the lights, this foundation is designed for stage...

he's always been generous, after all

and he certainly won't accept no for an answer

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

similarly, Rook doesn't think anything of it

he's simply taken by you

...your devotion, your energy, your heart!

sometimes he, too, feels like screaming for his passions!

you can expect him to be your number one fan

and be at each of your performances, whether small or big, on stage or just in your room

(whether you know he's there or not)

he always seems to know just what to get you, though. tea with honey? salt water for your throat?

he's thought of it before you even have to ask

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is fangirling over it before he even meets you

listen, in his defense-

one of his favorite animes is about a kawaii metal singer!

and he was already familiar with the genre, anyway

so... no, it's not weird to him

if anything, he feels weird for never being able to talk to you about it

it's basically like talking to one of his idols IRL

whether you're a well-known performer or just make videos online is irrelevant to him

you'll be receiving a lot of anonymous donations from someone named gloomurai

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

when Lilia makes an offhand comment about your music, Malleus is intrigued

you'd never mentioned being a musician, after all

the next time you see each other, he asks

but, much to his confusion, you seem... embarrassed?

he quickly explains he only heard it from Lilia, and didn't mean to offend you, and-

ah...

that's why you're embarrassed?

you think he won't like you because others have said it's unbecoming?

humans are so strange, he thinks

it's only music, after all. it'd take much more to make him dislike you

besides, this is Lilia's foster son we're talking about. he's been exposed to every genre at least once

[0o-junebug-o0]

Soft Early Mornings

summary: Emily takes care you when you wake up.

genre: fluff and smut

cw: 18+ mdni! kinda softdom!emily, kinda sub!reader, dirty talking, praise, fingering (r receiving), reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified (the only word used to describe reader's genitalia is clit), reader is written as non-male because I can't imagine emily as anything other than a lesbian, cumming in pants (I guess it counts), no use of y/n, morning sex, crying during sex, soft/emotional sex

wordcount: 1.1k

You wake up to the warmth of the newly risen sun and Emily’s hand under your shirt drawing gentle circles on your stomach. You groan softly and she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Hey, baby,” she whispers. Her voice is husky and quiet. She must have woken up not long before you did.

“Hi,” you whisper in response, pressing your back further against her chest.

She chuckles slightly and flattens her hand on your stomach to pull you closer until your body is completely flush against hers. She slips her thigh between your knees, parting your legs slightly, before once again dragging her fingertips softly over your skin.

You sigh with contentment and turn your head to look back at her as much as you can. Emily props herself up slightly, her hair falling over her shoulder and neck, and presses a brief and gentle kiss to your lips. You smile as she presses a kiss to your nose before tapping the tip of your nose with her own and settling back down into the bed. 

You can feel her shift slightly behind you as she knocks off the bit of the blankets that managed to stay covering you both throughout the night despite your squirming. Being this close to each other provides all the warmth you both need.

“I love you,” you mutter.

Emily presses another kiss to your shoulder. “I love you too, baby.”

You hum happily and she chuckles in response. Her hand slips further up your shirt, tracing swirls up to your sternum and back down with two of her fingers. You let your eyes slip shut as you focus on the feeling of her hand, her love and care for you apparent with every soft design she draws.

Emily flattens her hand on your stomach again, just resting it there for a moment before shifting it so the tips of her pinkie and ring fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts. Surprised, you shift your hips slightly, pressing your body harder against her.

She raises up and presses a kiss behind your ear. “Is this okay?” she whispers.

A shaky breath leaves your lips and you nod eagerly. 

Emily chuckles into your ear. “Words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

She kisses you again and you can feel her smile against your skin before she settles back down. Her hand dips further beneath your shorts and you gasp as one of her fingers brushes over your clit.

“Such a pretty little thing,” she mutters. Two of her fingers settle over your clit and start rubbing gentle circles. The feeling makes you moan softly as little sparks of pleasure shoot through your body. The sound makes her chuckle.

Emily doesn’t increase her pace at all, even though you know she can feel how wet you are, moving her fingers just fast enough with just enough pressure to drive you crazy without giving you more. She peppers your back with gentle kisses as you squirm against her and you can feel her smiling at every little gasp and moan that escapes your lips.

She slides her hand further down and you whine at the loss of stimulation to your clit. The sound is quickly cut off by a groan as she sinks two fingers into you at once. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. You let out a little broken moan as she curls her fingers inside of you. The angle is perfect, allowing her fingers to hit that spot inside you while the heel of her palm presses against your clit.

“E-Emily,” you gasp weakly.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” she soothes. “I’m right here.”

You whimper desperately as she slowly starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot and nudging your clit every time. She’s so gentle, making the pleasure build inside you slowly, burying deep in your gut and creeping up your spine. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible and you can feel tears pooling in your eyes. A soft and happy sob works its way free from your chest and Emily stills her hand but doesn’t remove it. She props herself up, leaning over you and tilting your head so she can press a long and gentle kiss to your lips. “You okay, sweet thing?” she asks softly. You nod and open your eyes to meet hers. You let your eyes slip closed again as she presses her lips back against yours and resumes the movement of her hand. Her fingers hit that spot again, making you gasp into the kiss. She pulls back and kisses where the tears have gathered at the corners of your closed eyes.

“You’re doing so good, baby. I’m right here,” she whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Heat climbs up your body and you whine desperately as you feel yourself getting close.

“That’s it, beautiful, so good for me.”

Her voice and words are so full of love and care and they drive you crazy, making you whimper and squirm.

“Em–“ you moan.

“It’s okay, baby,” Emily whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Cum for me.”

As if on cue, you cum around her fingers. Pleasure washes over you and your body shudders. You moan and clench around her as she works you through it, whispering praises into your ear. When your orgasm subsides, Emily gently removes her fingers and you practically melt into the bed. It wasn’t a violent or overly powerful orgasm, but the slow build and gentle release of pleasure exhausted you. 

Emily slips her leg out from between your knees and you roll onto your back. You open your eyes and blink up at her with a dopey smile, uncaring of the tears still on your face. Emily wipes her fingers clean on her shirt and props herself up on her elbow to look down at you. Her hair falls over her shoulders and brushes against your neck and chin, making you giggle slightly.

You reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, both to stop it from tickling you and so you can get a better view of her beautiful face. “Hi,” you say softly, lowering your hand to rest on your chest.

“Hey, sweet thing,” she responds. She presses kisses to each of the tears on your cheeks. “Did so good for me.”

You feel your cheeks warm. “Do you wa–”

Emily shakes her head. “No,” she says softly. “This was just about you.”

She kisses you softly and you raise your hand to cup the back of her head. When she pulls away for air, Emily rests her forehead against yours, pressing the tips of your noses together. She slowly opens her eyes to stare into yours.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you too.”

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

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[shirefantasies]

The Hobbit Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader)

Part 2 of this post! Time to find out who has daughters or sons first 😁 also requested by anon, but it was already drafted hehe~

Warnings: Blood mentions, birth complications in some (happy endings for all!)

Balin

Knitting was a bit of a struggle those days, you reflected as your elbows ached from bending to keep your needles above the curve of your belly. Balin sat in the armchair at your side, a hand idly drawing circles upon your thigh. Thus, he felt your sudden jerk, rose with you when you all but threw your needles and their work to the side table. "What is it?" He asked. "The chair," you cried out, "It's ruined!" Moisture seeped into the seat of it, a dark stain upon maroon velvet. "We can most likely get that out," Balin comforted you, a hand on yours, "But what is it?" "My water," you answered lowly, dread of realization creeping in on you. "What water?" "My water," you repeated urgently, dragging your husband by the arm, "I am going into labor!"

~

The only thing that got you through your labor was chuckling at Balin's attempts to hide his nerves, which somehow seemed greater than yours. Likely due to the way your body went into a near-primal focus, your every thought channeled not even into pushing your child out, but simply keeping them safe. Safe indeed, for soon a very loud cry pierced your ears. "Mahal," Oin remarked, dark eyes widening as he extended your newly-wrapped babe to you, "He's a strong one!" "He?" You asked. "He is strong!" Balin cried out, pulling you into his chest from where he stood, one hand reaching for your son, who immediately gripped his finger tight. "Oh, he is indeed!" "We did it," you sobbed into your husband's chest. "You did," Balin corrected, "I can't imagine how you endured all that." "All for him," you replied, gazing down at your son, whose eyes squinted open and blinked. Brown, just like his father's.

Dwalin

"Get out of the way! My wife is giving birth! Our child's coming!" All but shoving the crowds as he burst through with you in his arms, one hand wrapped less loosely about you so he could fling it out at offending pedestrians, Dwalin carried you down Erebor's halls all the way to Oin's. "It- It takes a long time, you know! The baby isn't coming right now," you stuttered out, jostled by your husband's brisk pace. "I'll not take my chances," Dwalin replied as he disappeared with you into the doorway.

~

"Stars above, why'd ya wait so long?" "Huh?" Your head snapped up from the bed you'd been draped onto, the world fading sharply back to focus amidst the pain. "You either took yer sweet time or else this is an unusually fast labor." Dwalin grinned down at you. "Now is not the time," you shot back, gritting your teeth. In the end, the agonies of labor were over for you in four hours' time. "Unusual all the way around," Oin remarked, settling the mewling babe in your arms, "You two've got yourselves a little girl." "'N she's going to look just like you, too," Dwalin told you, reaching a tattooed hand out to stroke your daughter's cheek and nuzzling against your head.

Thorin

Thorin knew by the way you gripped his arm, swiveled his head to meet your eyes and see your faint nod. Register the fear in your eyes and cup your cheek gently. He was prepared, bringing you a blanket to hold beneath you when your water began to seep through your skirt. Your husband led you by the hand as you waddled with the blanket between your legs all the way to Thorin’s most trusted healer, his old journey’s companion.

~

“You can do this. I have seen firsthand how much you can endure. You were made to do this, my love.” “I know,” you whined, unconcerned how pitiful you sounded for despite being a queen, at that moment you were a woman in pain. Pain that had gone on for hours, burning and tearing through your body. “The head is stuck,” Oin told you. “No,” you breathed. “I’m afraid I may have to widen the opening. Looking up to meet Thorin’s eyes, you simply tightened your grip on his hand, squeezing your eyes shut tight when the healer took up a small blade and letting out a cry of agony as he cut. Finally, though, blessedly, a weight lifted as your little one came free with a sound of confusion. Panting, you gave your husband a weak smile, sitting up a bit further and wincing at the pain, enduring to hold your newborn. “My son. Our son. A new prince is born to Erebor,” Thorin whispered, leaning down to connect your foreheads, warmth pooling even amidst the sweat glistening there, “I cannot take away your pain, but I will do anything in my power to be the best king, husband, and father you both could ask.” “You already are,” you told him, laying your hand over his, which was joined with your son’s.

Oin

"It's time, isn't it?" "How did you know what I was about to say?" You asked him, head cocked. "Because I've seen the signs a thousand times," Oin reminds you, "Now come on. Go get yourself comfortable. I've got everything ready." Patting your shoulder and kissing your cheek, he guides you to your bed and leaves the room, only to return with his supplies. "I'll go put the kettles on." "Why two?" "One to keep me clean 'n one for your tea." Oin had, in fact, told you about the tea he made patients to help with their pain. You nodded. "Of course. I trust my healer." The affection in your husband's eyes matched your own gaze as he disappeared through the door one more time.

~

"Yer doin' great." "I don't feel like I am," you cried. "Shh, I know," Oin soothed, making his way back up to your head to kiss you, "It'll all be over soon, though. Promise. In fact, can you give me one more push?” For all the frustration you may have felt, your husband was both delivering your little one and reassuring you. He was doing amazing for your baby and you could do the same. Whimpering and straining, you pushed until a cry pierced the room. “You did it! A wee thing, too. Oh, oh, love, it’s a girl! We had a girl!” Daughters were all too rare among dwarvenkind. Eyes widening and lips parting, you leaned over to let Oin wipe the sweat from your brow with one newly-cleaned hand after he handed over your daughter. Tears poured from his eyes as he rested his hand over yours that held your daughter’s. “I’ve seen this a thousand times, and yet this is like never before. Thank you for this gift.” Whispering your name, he guided you gently by the chin into a kiss of pure love and gratitude.

Gloin

“Are you alright?” Your husband’s voice was like a buzz beneath the ring of your ears, lightheadedness overtaking you until you felt a hand take yours and heard a louder, firmer call of your name. No anger colored it, just concern that had you finally swinging your head Gloin’s way. Soon as your eyes met his, you nodded faintly and smiled before the spots dancing in your vision won.

~

When you awoke, your brother-in-law was checking your pulse, nodding as you started. “She’s doin’ better,” Oin told Gloin, “Get back up there, she’s going to start pushing.” Shuffling back up from his brother’s side to yours, your husband took your hand, gently smoothing your hair and dabbing cold sweat off your brow with his sleeve. “I’m ready whenever you are,” he told you, and off you went into another haze of pain and encouragement and anticipation. Oin’s cry of victory actually alerted you both to the birth before the baby made a sound, emerging into the air with a small whine of confusion and near annoyance that had you and Gloin chuckling. The baby started crying as Oin checked him over, fussing in your arms as Gloin leaned down to rest his forehead over his new addition’s. “I’m a da. I’ve finally got a son of my own,” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes.

Bifur

“Bifur!” Plodding footsteps filled your vision as your husband tore into the room, almost careening into your dresser. Entering the room, his dark eyes widened as he caught side of you folded over, your water leaking onto your shared bed. “The blankets,” you panted, “I’m sorry…” Waving a hand and shaking his head, Bifur dismissed you, removing his gloves to caress your cheek and feel your forehead before he lowered you down and gestured for you to wait. Squeezing your hand when you nodded in agreement, he disappeared out the door in search of Oin.

~

Gasps sounded at your feet as Oin motioned for Bifur to join him and rake up a tool. Muscle memory kept the feeling and warmth of your husband’s hand in yours alive for another moment, but you all but forgot it in the panic of Oin tracing a circle around his neck. The cord was wrapped. Spears of ice pierced your heart as you watched your husband frantically aid the healer, eyes stone in focus and motions deliberate. After what felt like hours, you saw both their chests rest in exhales. “He’s alright,” Oin told you, “Your son will be just fine.” Crying out, you reached out your arms, embracing your husband and then sobbing into the blanket that held your new addition. You could tell by his wisps of black hair, the shape of his nose, that he was going to look just like his father. “Our miracle,” you sobbed to Bifur and Oin, “You are true heroes. Thank you. Our son will have no shortage of great dwarves to look up to.”

Bofur

“Bofur, my labor is beginning.” “Your what?” Wincing, you shuffled forward to clutch your husband by the collar. “Your child is coming, so I suggest you get some help unless you’d like to have a fun adventure with our rug later.” Swallowing, Bofur nodded. “Right. On my way.”

~

“And I’ll never forget the day I met you. When I saw you I thought ‘There’s simply no way she could be real’. Goodness me, if I’m not thinking the very same right now.” Bofur’s hand never left yours and his mouth never stopped moving, even if you were in no state to respond. Contorting with the pain, you cried out as your body gave its all, spending yourself for one last push. “See what I mean? Oin just caught the wee bairn. You’re all done! Just pushed a whole baby out all by yourself. Plain amazing’s what it is.” “And a girl no less!” Oin chimed in, slashing the cord as your daughter began to cry. “Hear that, love? A little dwarrowdam!” Smiling at your husband, you felt a tear slide down and mingle with the sweat glistening upon your cheek. Oin placed her in your arms and Bofur bent over to meet her blinking eyes. “Hello there! It’s me, yer da! I’m the one who’s going to buy you everything you want, alright?” “Not even five minutes old and she already has you wrapped around her finger,” you teased. “Damn right.” Bofur kissed her head, then yours.

Bombur

“Bombur.” “I’m on it.” Your sweet husband needed only a word to rush off across your home, fetching you a pot and holding it beneath you. “What’s this for?” “The water,” he answered, nodding down to where your skirt soaked through. “Oh,” you accepted one of the cold steel handles, “right. That works.” “You ready? I’ll get yer bag too.” “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer with a smile.

~

Taking a cloth, your husband wiped the sweat off your forehead gently, patting your cheek affectionately. “Still doing alright?” “Best I can,” you grunted. “Everything look good down there? Well, good as it can,” Bombur amended with a glance down to his old companion, who nodded. Bombur had been asking questions and checking in the whole times, not to mention keeping you as clean and comfortable as could be. Rather that annoy you, it made you smile to see how much he cared. You had a healer, yes, but a nurse also. “Almost here,” he said, “just a few more pushes, eh?” Exhaling sharply, you focused all your might, forcing your muscles harder than you thought possible until a wail pierced the room. “You’ve done it,” Oin congratulated you, crossing the room with a little bundle in hand. Reaching out, Bombur wrapped his hands gently around the little one, lowering your baby down to let you uncover her head, which already had whisps of red hair. "She's beautiful." "'Course she is," Bombur replied, nuzzling into your cheek, "Came out o' you, didn't she?"

Dori

"Love, are you alright?" "Yes." You paused, crumpling and wincing beneath the crash of more pain. "Wait, no. That is to say I've never felt this before. I think my labor has started." No more words were necessary; flitting about your home, Dori fetched blankets and a skin of water and all manner of other supplies. "Will Oin not have all we need?" "Can't be too sure," your husband replied, striding to your side and smoothing your hair before he caressed your face, blue eyes staring into yours, "I want you to be safe, you know. I love you." And what could you say? You loved him, too, for all his quirks and for that big beautiful heart.

~

"Is that normal? That's not normal, is it?" Oin had drawn you a warm bath, lowering you into the water and checking your progress. "What's he doing all this for?" "To relax her," the healer replied to your nervous husband with a shake of his head, "And yes, this happens. 's just a slow labor is all. Some of 'em rush on out and others take their time. I suspect your wee bairn is just in no hurry." No hurry indeed. For all your pains of labor, it was almost 20 hours to the minute before your bath ran red and plaintive cries of confusion drifted into the air, Dori's fretting and even apologizing to you for putting you in this position turning to gripping your hand and all but leaping in anticipation. "You did it," he congratulated you quietly, embracing you without care of the water, sweat, and Mahal knew what else soaked you. "You sure did," Oin agreed, smiling as you accepted your little one, whose face was still red from crying, "She's here." "A daughter," Dori whispered, "A little girl! All my dreams are coming true and it's all thanks to you. How could I ever thank you? You'll never want for anything, neither of you, not love or warmth or all the pretty things you'd ever want."

Nori

Nori’s arms were snaked around your middle when you jerked forward, pushing his hands away. “For goodness sakes, you could’ve just said you didn’t want to-” “No,” you waved a hand frantically, feeling the gush of liquid trickling out, “My water just broke, Nori. It is time.” “Right now?” “Sorry if it’s inconvenient for you,” you sassed. At that, your husband smiled faintly and shook his head. “Not at all. In fact," he quipped, "I was a bit bored.”

~

“Push!” “What does it look like I’m doing?” Now your ire is focused on Oin, bringing many a snicker forth from Nori. At least until you crush his hand with a steel grip, crying out and falling limply against the sheets on which you lie. “That felt like something. Am I done?” “Almost,” the healer replied, his head popping over the curve of your heaving body, “The other head’s coming out now.” Double-taking between Oin and you, Nori bursts out, “The other head?” “Congratulations,” Oin agrees roughly, hands glistening with blood as he cuts a cord, “You’re a strong one, my friend- you made two at once!” At that, he bursts into a raucous laugh, gingerly transferring each of your sons into Nori’s arms. Bringing them closer, your husband grins like a dwarf showing off his most precious gems. “Look at that, love, two for the price o’ one. Our handsome little lads.”

Ori

Ori had been asking you every day at just about any hint of discomfort if the baby was coming, jumping up before you could tell him no, just a hard kick or your back troubling you again. Thus, the same he had done that day, so caught in the fray of his actions that he failed to think about why you weren't stopping him. At least, that was, until you finally met his eyes with a nod and a nervous smile that sent him pitching sideways. Only, of course, to promptly catch himself and, wide-eyed, take your hand and lead the way.

~

"You sure you want 'im in here?" Oin asked you, peering up with a teasing glint in his eye. "He looks more afraid than you do!" "He is my husband," you replied indignantly, tightening your grip on Ori's hand, "And I am quite certain I would faint too if I saw the head half-stuck right now." "Oh, beyond half," the healer told you, "Couple good pushes and I daresay you'll be done." Hearing Ori's gasp of excitement had your eyes shining with even more determination than the older dwarf's words, and focusing all your might you pushed and pushed until you felt a weight lifted, your body relaxing. "He's out! A little lad, too!" "Hear that?" Ori turned to you, gathering you up into his arms. "We've got a son! Our son is here!" "'N he's a gentle thing," Oin told you, laying him in your arms, "Didn't even fight me." "He's sweet," you gushed at the sight of your son nuzzling into your bare skin and leaning up to kiss your husband's cheek, "Just like his da."

Fili

“I think I’m in labor.” “You think?” Blue eyes wide and golden brows raised, Fili stares incredulously at you. “I feel it. I feel the pain. But where is my water?” Glancing back up, you see your husband inhale sharply, exhale and steady his expression. Truly a king in the making. “Oin will know,” he tells you, urgently but calmly, “Let us go.” Nodding and taking a deep breath of your own, you take his hand and make your way.

~

Labor indeed. All the other signs matched and soon- or far sooner than you had hoped- you are pushing, Fili’s hand firmly clasping yours and his head resting atop your own, braids dangling over you as you pant and work. From your feet, you see the healer’s eyes widen and lips part, rounding in surprise. “Is something wrong?” “No, no,” Oin shakes his head, “This is simply a marvel. Your heir coming in a veiled birth.” Frowning, you immediately ask him what he means. “See for yourself,” he replies, showing you the reason your water had not broken. The baby had emerged still inside the birth sac. “Does that harm them?” Fili asked. “Not at all. This is just a very rare sight. You may not want to watch this part.” Fili took both of your hands in his, leaning his forehead against yours as Oin extricated and cleaned the little one. “A veiled babe and a girl. What are the odds?” Accepting your daughter, you grinned up at Fili. “We have a princess!” “Our little queen in the making,” your husband agreed, caressing your daughter’s cheek as a rear rolled down his, “A true miracle.”

Kili

Poor Kili- you had been sitting on his lap when the break happened. Venturing your name with the utmost caution-and fear of your hormones- your husband asked, “Do you, by chance, need help getting to the lavatory?” Shaking your head even as it was hidden in your hands, you told him, “No. Kili, that was my water. The babies.” “Now?” “Now,” you agreed with a nod. Shooting up from his seat and all but yanking you into his arms, he lifted you bridal-style. “Kili, you’ll get wet!” “Already am. May as well give the babies as much time with Oin as possible.”

~

As much time ad possible being a near-record-speed delivery of three and a half hours. “Impatient little buggers,”Oin teased, tossing aside a red-stained cloth, “But strong little fighters. The sister kicked especially hard!” Chuckling, he lowered the aforementioned girl twin into your husband’s arms, handing you your son. They squirmed considerably less when you held them, both of you loosening your upper garments to hold them against skin. “She gets it from her mother, no doubt,” Kili teased with a wink as if he wasn’t crying, “But the good looks? That’ll be us both. This is all so beautiful. This is the most beautiful thing beyond anyone's imagining. Thank you for being the one to share this with me.”

Bilbo

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" "Yes, Bilbo," you chuckled despite the pain coursing through your body, "All I need right now is to have you with me." "And Matilda," your husband named your neighbor and midwife who was on her way. "And Matilda," you agreed with a faint nod, "Now come here. Please." "Of course, dear," Bilbo agreed, shuffling across the room so quickly you could hear every hard step clattering off the boards.

~

"Is she going to be alright?" "Yes, she's still doing great," Matilda replied with an equal mix of amusement and exasperation at your husband, who leaned over to speak to her and immediately balked at the sight of your body dilated, a head beginning to emerge. "I- I feel a bit faint." "Try being me," you shot back as he returned to your side fully. "You're right," he nodded, fingers curling even tighter around yours for the last pushes. After what felt like ages, Matilda finally called up "Cutting the cord!" Her voice barely rose above the cries. "Hear that?" "I do," you answered Bilbo with a nod, tears welling up in your eyes. "You should be proud," Matilda told you, cleaning up your babe and handing her off to the pair of you, as both of you extended hands simultaneously, "She's beautiful." Bilbo lowered her to where you lie, pushing back the folds of her blanket so her skin could touch yours. Wispy hair curled atop your newborn daughter's head. "I never thought anything could be so beautiful, but here we are," your husband told you, voice barely above an awed whisper, "My girls."

Thranduil

"Thranduil." Your husband smirked at the way you panted his name, glancing upward only for that very expression to melt into horror at your buckling knees. Rushing to grasp your hand, he simply says, "It is time, is it not?" Nodding, you allow him to lead you all the way to the healing chambers, breathing heavily and wincing with each crashing wave of pain.

~

Despite his wide eyes, your husband keeps calm and speaks well the entire birth. "Focus on what is above you," he distracts, golden voice soothing as ever, "What do you see?" "Branches," you breathe, huffing with the force of your latest push, "Lights." "Remember the festival of starlight?" "I daresay that was when we conceived," you grunt, "Remind me to write an edict discontinuing it." At that, Thranduil simply chuckles deeply and winces at the way your voice breaks into tears. "Good," your midwife encourages you, "One more push, My Queen. One more. That is it. Find your strength." Your face contorts in frustration, but you comply, body wracked with one final stab before lying still. "Well?" Thranduil immediately asks. "Is the child healthy?" "Small, but breathing very well. A lovely little princess, My Lord." "My little princess," he all but gasps, head swiveling back your way, "Our daughter is here." A weight falls into his arms, and leaning down Thranduil reveals your little gift to you. Eyes still closed, your daughter wails and reaches for the air with delicate little hands. "Our beautiful woodland princess."

Feren

"Feren." "Yes, my love?" "Feren," you breathe with greater insistence in your loss for words, "I think it is happening." "Right now?" "Yes," you sit up in bed, throwing the blankets off your lap and inhaling sharply. Luckily, you have no need to tell your husband twice; he all but bounds across the bedroom to retrieve your things and find a robe to wrap you in, one hand guiding you up and to the side of the bed. "Breathe, breathe. One moment; I will fetch help." At first, you were reluctant to release his hand, but finally you nodded and let him go. When he returned, a midwife rushed to your side where you squatted and your husband to the other, where he took your hand and immediately winced at your vicelike grip.

~

Both you and Feren were red in the face and streaked with tears before you heard the wail; your husband from the pain of his hand and of hearing and seeing your body, voice, and expression all rent in agony. Every head in the room turned to face the sound, though, pain almost forgotten. With a soft white cloth that quickly reddened, your midwife cleaned the skin of your newborn. Who was, by the looks of it... "A son! My darling, a son is born to us! Our little boy is here." "Let me see," you cried out, reaching your hands for the elfling extended to you and lowering him to the bared skin of your chest. He was beautiful. "Perfect," you sobbed, "He is perfect." "Just like you," Feren adds with a kiss to your forehead.

Bard

The moment you crumpled, Bard took one look at you and nodded solemnly. “One moment,” he told you, rushing back into the house and calling requests to the girls. Through a wave of pain you saw Tilda hand her father the bag you’d packed as he made his way back to your side. You felt your hand clutched tightly again. “We make for the midwife’s.” At that, all you could do was nod. Luckily for you, she lived close enough that you needn’t take a barge, though the increasing difficulty of hurried walking and weaving through crowds of fisherman and sellers almost had you wishing you did. Your husband called to them to move, his wife was in labor, and luckily many of them began to part at that. All too soon another wave of pain came and Bard hoisted you into his arms, carrying you over the raised threshold of the wooden house that was your midwife’s home.

~

Hours. Hours it took, hours that wracked your body and soul as your mind was kept knit only by the grace and care of your husband. The midwife's care as well, of course, but all memory beyond the veil of pain went to the feeling of his hand around yours. Bard's grip, warm and solid right up until the moment cries filled the room. "It's a girl," the older woman breathed from at your feet, "A healthy little girl." "A daughter! Oh," Bard told you, bringing your baby closer, "The girls will be thrilled. And look, see how she looks just like you." Looking down, you pushed aside the blanket from your newborn daughter's head, seeing soft strands of hair the same color as yours. "As I had hoped," your husband added.

Beorn

“Three babies. Remind me again why it had to be three babies.” “My people commonly-” “I know, I know!” One arm slung over your shoulders and one tightly gripping your waist, Beorn led you from the garden back into the house. “Do you care to lay or to squat?” “Squat,” you panted. Acquiescing your request, your husband releases you at the bedpost once your hands leave his to grip the wood. “Let me boil some water. I will be right back.” Sometimes you wished he would be less serious. This was not one of those times. Calm washed over you at the sheer capability Beorn displayed, the confidence so present or so well affected. Taking a deep breath as a contraction hit, you attempted to mirror his manner.

~

“There was one. How do you feel?” “Lighter,” you groaned in between pushes. “Glad to see you have yet to lose your sense of humor. That one was a boy, my heart. Our firstborn son has arrived.” “A son,” you breathed, wincing as another massive contraction came. “Yes, yes, that is it.” A second cry filled the room, this one a bit quieter than your son’s. “And a daughter. Only one more. Whether you know it, you have the strength.” Finally a third set of cries filled the room, these the loudest by far. “Another son. Two boys and a girl.” Smiling, Beorn gently lowered one of your sons into your arms, the other babes swaddled in each of his. “This one looks like you,” you remarked, smiling at your husband though you did not bother peeling your eyes from your new baby yet. His eyes were well occupied with your daughter anyhow. “And I can tell this one will have her mother’s eyes. Much more beyond that, we can hope. …Hope. For my people after so long.” Eyes falling shut, Beorn let tears of joy and relief flow from his eyes before bringing you and his other son into one massive embrace.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

[legalmente-loca]

Pervertboyfriend!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

18+ nsfw

A/N: Requested by @b3llar0ckz

❥ Pervertboyfriend!Dean always has one hand on you, and if it's on your ass, even better.

❥ When you're not together, he sends you pictures and videos of his cock, already wet or halfway through masturbation.

❥ And he won't stop until you answer him or send him pictures and videos of yours too.

❥ Pervertboyfriend!Dean likes watching the semen drip out of your pussy a little too much.

❥ “That view is worth it all, sweetness.”

❥ He doesn't feel guilty about not using a condom. In fact, a part of him wants to get you pregnant and have his child inside you.

❥ He wants to see your belly getting bigger and your fat breasts filled with milk.

❥ Pervertboyfriend!Dean would love to suck every drop out of you.

❥ He loves to put his hand under your skirts when you're sitting, his fingers running up and down your panties, spreading your wetness, before he puts in the first finger of five.

❥ He loves your body. Maybe even to the point of obsession. He's always watching it or touching you, and if he can't do either of those, then he's thinking about it.

❥ He takes every opportunity to treat you to tight little skirts and t-shirts. Pervertboyfriend!Dean enjoys seeing you in them and then ripping them off, promising to give you more later.

❥ You can't even spend five seconds in the car with him when he's already thinking about sex.

❥ “How about—?”

❥ “No.”

❥ “I had to ask.”

❥ The only seat you can use is his lap, sometimes even with his cock deep inside you.

❥ “That's it, pretty girl, keep my cock warm.”

❥ He always wants to kiss you. Your lips drive him crazy and he likes to run his hands up and down your thighs while doin' it.

❥ He slides his hands under your shirt and caresses you over your bra if you're wearing one.

❥ Every porn video he's ever seen he'll relate to everything that happens.

❥ One time you got really stuck in the washing machine when Pervertboyfriend!Dean came through the door.

❥ We already know how that video goes.

❥ When you have sex and you're on your stomach, he loves to watch your ass bounce and has even made it red from spanking it so many times.

❥ Pervertboyfriend!Dean definitely loves it when you're on top.

❥ From that vantage point, he watches your breasts bounce against his face. He has an obsession with them.

❥ On one occasion, he couldn't take his face off your breasts and kept biting them.

❥ “You taste so good, baby.”

❥ He holds your legs tightly around him, his thrusts coming in hard and fast, drawing gasps from you.

❥ Finally, never ask him to change. He's obsessed with you (in a good way) and he won't stop showing it.

Dean Winchester Imagines/Headcanons

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Masterlist

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[sapphicteadragon]

Link Click season 3 untranslated text

Hey yall! Since the subs on the new season of Link Click are ass (who would have thought) and also don't translate any of the on-screen text, I figured I'd just compile my translations of all of it in case anyone's curious.

These are all the texts from episode 1, as follows:

"Partner, let's play basketball together again tomorrow~" (the 啊 gives it a cutesy/friendly tone)

Top: But you do know

Bottom left: that once the contract is established, no matter whether you succeed, you will have no way of going any further into the future

Bottom right: After it is complete, your soul will dissipate, and regret will be to no avail.

Hmm... in order to do my utmost to save the things I treasure, what is there to regret!

Bilibili Message

"Ranxi Chronicles" The signing event will begin next Saturday at 15:00. Every person will have three minutes of interacting time, and must book a slot in advance to obtain a signature or drawing. The order is determined based on the on-site queueing order.

BILI SEARCH (these are the same characters as bilibili, which is a fun easter egg)

"How to become a comic artist" (search)

1: how do I become a comic artist? Suggestions from those in the profession

Not only must you have a grounding in basic skills, you must also unceasingly practice and learn. You can do this by drawing sketches, and practising tracing lines until your foundation in drawing skill improves.

2: How do I become a qualified comic artist?

You first must set your mentality straight and clearly set your objectives. Your objectives must be established on the foundation of a strong mentality. If you want to become a comic artist, there is no harm in first asking yourself why you have this kind of goal.

3: How to become a comic artist? The state of comic artists in the profession

This specialisation is not as bright and pretty as it appears on the surface. The living and working conditions are also not as satisfying as you might imagine; right now they truly are frugal. (the word used here means skinny/sparse) So, listen to my advice:

SKY5690: There's no future in it, you won't earn any money in the first place

RAIN1352: Run away fast

CAT7931: Haven't slept in 3 days

Shen San Shui (lit. sink in three waters)

Today I went to a comic con, and joined a signing event for my favourite comic artist. I was inspired in no small measure, and from now on I plan to advance courageously on the path of becoming a comic artist! Fortunately a demon girl-jiejie (jiejie means sister, but is also used to refer to an older female friend/acquaintance) helped me find something very important, and if it weren't for her, I definitely wouldn't have been able to muster the courage. But this demon girl-jiejie left something of hers with me, and I have no way of finding her. If anyone knows this jiejie, please contact me anytime!

Description: wearing a demon girl cosplay, around 160cm tall, shoulder-length black hair

Top: My sister was hospitalised again today, the doctor said

Middle: My sister's treatment costs are accumulating. If the investment path is good, and you choose the right one, then the path will naturally be magnanimous

Bottom: Today's profits are in. I rarely do anything luxurious, can't forget to reward myself with food and drink while rushing about~

V: Xun-ge, the profits you entrusted me to handle before have arrived in the account <3

X: Heavens, you're impressive

V: Hehe, next time I can try investing a little more, and can earn even more <3

"Sorry I couldn't get there yesterday, can we meet up again? I want to chat with you"

That's all for episode 1, there weren't any in episode 2 that I saw. If I missed any please tell me and I'll add them, and I'll keep an eye out for any text in the upcoming episodes!

[hello-kuni]

𝐃𝚬𝚨𝐃 𝚶𝐅 𝚴𝚰𝐆𝐇𝚻

syn: when you're sleeping and they need you and how they remedy that situation

ft. diluc, itto, thoma, kaeya

cw: 18+ mdni, f!reader, somnophilic elements, dubcon-ish, m masturbation, f receiving oral, dry humping, thigh fucking

a/n: welcome to my genshin debut (bear with me pls i'm getting out of my slump)

❁ diluc

it's late in the night when he creeps into the bedroom. you're already fast asleep and unaware of his late arrival. he keeps the light off to change, unwilling to disturb you. as he crawls into bed beside you, he notices the covers have slipped down your body, knowing goosebumps are rising on your skin in the chilly room. he catches a glimpse of your figure as he reaches to cover you, nothing more than a shadow in the dark.

"archons," he whispers, feeling himself harden at the sight. he hadn't realized just how...frustrated he is until that moment. the last thing he wants is to wake when he knows he can stave off his desires for the time being. so that's exactly what he does.

conjuring an image of you, he lays back against his pillow and lets his hand wrap around his cock. his strokes are quick and uncaring. something about touching himself to the thought of you feels wrong to him and he'd rather not draw it out for too long. not to mention his body his heavy with sleep.

he's getting close to his release, unaware of the fact he's quietly moaning your name as he's imagining that it's your pussy squeezing him instead of his own hand. he hadn't noticed you stirring beside him, awoken by the gentle sound of you name in the beloved timber of his voice. but he's well aware that you're now awake when you wrap your hand over his, effectively stopping his strokes moments before he cums.

heat creeps up his neck at being caught. your hand trails lower as you whisper, "even at times like this, i'm yours to have."

he lets out a shaky breath, but his conviction is solid. "i'll never disturb you for a need i can satiate on my own. not like that."

the mere implication of your words was enough to shake any hint of sleep from him, now fully awake and present. the thought of doing something such as that would never cross his mind.

you bring your hand up to cup his jaw, sultry eyes peering up at him. "then come to bed earlier and let me take care of you."

now that was something he could work with. he brings his lips to your own and mumbles in agreement. after this exchange he's prepared to call it a night, his earlier frustration a fading memory, when you disappear under the sheets. and at the warmth that envelopes him, sleep becomes a distant thought.

❁ itto

fours rounds before bed apparently still wasn't enough for itto. he awoke a few hours after falling asleep, hard from a dream where you were--no, no he can't think about it. if he thinks about it his problem won't go away. but not thinking about it isn't helping either.

he resolves to ignore the ache and go back to sleep, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling you in close with his face tucked into your hair. but all that does is rub your ass against his already sensitive cock and now he's greedy for more. he shudders at the feeling, breath catching in his throat. he tries to resist, he really does, but he's weak when it comes to you.

the next movement is accidental, he tells himself. he's just trying to get comfortable. but that little taste is all he needs to be rutting against your ass. it's not the rough thrusts from earlier in the night, but something sloppy and vaguely desperate. all the while, he's still cautious, unwanting to wake you.

guilt is distant feeling creeping closer as he continues to drag the length of his cock against you. but that all dissolves when he feels your gentle hand on the back of his neck. he sucks in a breath, uncaring of the hair in his mouth.

"is this okay?" he asks, voice a rough whisper. "tell me it's okay."

at times like this, it's like his personality does a complete shift. it sends a heat through you and you just want to hear more of it. you don't have the energy for another round, were barely able to keep up earlier, but this--this is fine. your reply comes out a mumble, "it's okay."

the arms wrapped around your waist tighten and his speed quickens, chasing what he's craved since his interrupted dream of you. he doesn't stop until his cum is coating your back.

❁ thoma

the sun still has a bit of a journey before the first rays begin to peak over the horizon. yet thoma is regretfully awake to begin the day's duties. which wouldn't be so bad any other day, but today he awoke with an ache. he feels only a little guilty as he trails kisses down your naked body--the memory of that little fact doing nothing to help his case--scattering them across your thighs and gently coaxing you from sleep.

as he nestles between your thighs, you begin to stir, a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips as your hips wiggle at the first lick of his tongue. your hands gravitate to his hair, urging him on from those teasing kitten licks. he's quick to get the hint. he groans into you as his tongue delves between your slick folds.

in moments like this, even when he’s desperate to alleviate the growing ache, he prioritizes your pleasure over his. always. it's no fun for him if you're not enjoying it. but being buried between your legs is as enjoyable for him as it is for you. his mouth works you like a man who’s forgotten the last time he’s had a meal. it’s sloppy, yet not without thought behind each movement. his tongue licks long, languid stripes up through your folds, flicking across your sensitive clit. his mouth closes over the aching bud to suck and slurp. every lewd sound he makes mixes with the ones he’s drawing out of you.

he would have stayed there a lot longer if you weren't pulling on his hair. he crawls up your body, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. when he gets to your face he gives you a sleepy grin, and says simply, "good morning."

"a very good morning," you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and one leg hooking around his back to pull him closer.

his gaze drifts to the window where he can see just enough of the sky to decide he can spare a few more minutes with you before he gets ready for the day. the slight roll of his hips against you is all you need to understand his plan.

❁ kaeya

archons above, he really can't stand those little shorts of yours. it's gotten to the point they haunt him in his dreams. nightmares, really. the slight peak of your ass is always taunting him in wake and sleep. not to mention the way they hug you so perfectly, sculpting you ass and framing your thighs, his eyes can't help but stare as you walk by him. it doesn't help that he knows you're wearing them right now.

it's no secret to you that he has a rather strong fixation on your ass and thighs. it's those thighs he wants to feel right now, highlighted by those little sleep shorts. he has a long day ahead of him, he should be sleeping, but the only thing on his mind is you.

there's little shame as he reaches down between your bodies and frees his cock from its confines, one hand holding onto your hip. a shiver crawls down every nerve of his spine as he slips his cock between your plush thighs, the warmth enveloping him like a sinful hug. he bites back a moan, swallowing it as it wells up in his throat. chewing on his lower lip, he rolls his hips once.

and it's enough to shatter whatever self-control he has left.

a strangled moan leaves his lips and there's nothing he can do to stop it. his thrusts pick up pace, racing him towards his climax he's desperately sought since crawling into bedside you and feeling the expanse of the bare skin of your legs. he's so close, so close--

"kaeya." your voice cuts through the room, thick with sleep. his hips stutter but don't stop.

"couldn't help myself," he groans. "not when you're dressed like this."

you hummed in response, hand covering his as his thrusts pick up pace again. warm breath fans across your neck. it's not long until he's painting your thighs. and soon after rolling you on your back to lay between your legs.

[citrus-writing]

Hello-hello

In your headcanons, Chrollo is very careful with reader, afraid to scare her away with some thoughtless actions or words. Especially when it comes to intimacy

But could something happen that would make Chrollo just take her by force?

Perhaps something made him very angry or upset, but that wasn’t fault of the reader herself?(He’s a leader of the Troupe after all…)

Will Chrollo blame himself the next day?

Spoilers for the yorknew and succession war arcs! 

Warnings: nsfw, non-con 

------------------------------------

I imagine there are a few things that could upset Chrollo so deeply he acts impulsively, and when it comes to his darling, the impulse he’s constantly holding himself back from is taking them by force. Because he wants them so badly, and normally he has a great deal of self control, but when his grip on his emotions start to slip, so does his control over his more innate desires when it comes to you.

The deaths of his fellow troupe members hit him hard, harder than he’d like to admit, and as much as he tried to push the despair from his mind, it left him reeling. How someone could be there one moment and then gone the next- of course he’d always know this, but to lose so many so dear to him so fast has him desperate for something to ground him. 

And of course, it’s you. You’re all that he needs, he knows this, he’s always known. Just to hold you close, smell the scent of your hair, feel your soft breath on his skin, listen to the soft beating of your heart. It’d be enough. It’d be more than enough. 

Chrollo wraps his arms around you tight, pulling your back against him as you lay together in his bed. It’s not uncommon to lay like this together, but you can tell something is wrong. His breathing is a little off, and his heartbeat is pounding. 

His hands trace little patterns on your skin, inching over your bare arms and across the fabric of your nightclothes. It’s not like him, to get so handsy with you. It’s so unlike him that you squirm a little, uncomfortable with the advances he’s making. 

“Chrollo-” you whisper, unsure what’s gotten into him and scared of what it could mean. 

“Forgive me, my love.” he whispers against the back of your neck, before pressing an open mouthed kiss against your skin. 

He’s been holding back for so long, wanting you for what seems like an eternity but never able to have you. But tonight he can't resist you, whatever it is that draws him to you is too strong and he cant stop himself from indulging in you. Surely you’ll hate him for this, surely all the progress he’s made will be lost, but he needs you- more than he’s ever needed anything. 

He pins you down beneath him, body caging yours against the bed, and before you can let out a noise of protest his lips are on yours. Gone is the way he normally kisses you; so soft, so sweet. 

The way he normally gently caresses and touches you is gone, replaced with this new side of him, hungry and desperate. 

It’s not that he’s rough with you- even now, he hates the idea of having to hurt you. But if you insist on making this difficult, he won't be able to hold back. But he’d much rather have you willing beneath him. Or, if not willing, then at the very least, not defiant. 

He kisses you again and again, his tongue sliding into your mouth when you try to gasp. His body presses up against yours, hips moving against yours in a desperate attempt for friction. This is what he needs- all of you. And soon enough he can wait no longer; pulling at your clothes to free your body to the night air, delighting in the sight of you finally, finally, bare to him after all this time. 

He knows he’ll hate himself tomorrow, he knows he’ll fall to his knees and beg you for forgiveness, plead for you to give him another chance. But with you beneath him like this, tomorrow seems so far away.

------------------------------

[hoonigiris]

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

l. heeseung x reader

1.2k

chat, what do you do when you accidentally sleep with your TA that you didn't know was your TA? asking for a friend.

fuck my life.

it's the only thought you've had in the last two hours, maybe even three, if you count the expletives that flew out of your mouth this morning when you woke up to an alarm clock blaring the wrong set of numbers at you.

the clock on the wall ticks with each bounce of your knee. you swallow hard, palms clammy, eyes darting to anything that isn't the man sat at the desk in front of you. it's like some kind of sick joke—maybe even cruel and unusual punishment—to be sat in this chair with too-soft cushioning in deafening silence as you wait for someone to say something.

(not you though. you think you've done enough to last a lifetime.)

if there was one thing you liked about your major, it's that everything was predictable. the same classmates sat next to you, the same bespectacled old professors teaching at the front of the classroom, the same books lining the shelves of every office you enter. until today, that is.

predictable my ass. you distantly wonder if it's too late to switch to another major in the last semester of your senior year. maybe even switch schools.

objectively speaking, heeseung looks downright sinful: perfectly mussed hair, forearms exposed, thin-wired glasses drooping a little on his nose. your eyes catch onto the bit of skin left bare from where he's kept his shirt unbuttoned. you almost can't help yourself, trailing your eyes down, down, down—you blink hard. maybe you need holy water.

he hums in thought, drawing his thumb up to his lip to lick and flip to another page in the packet, and you let out a small, strangled sound. like a shark to blood in water, his eyes flit to you through his glasses, an eyebrow raised.

are you okay? you're pretty sure he asks, but it all comes muffled in your ears when all you can think of is how that's the same exact look he gave you a few nights ago. back when he was just some guy at the bar who offered to buy you a drink, someone that was nice enough and, most importantly, hot enough, to help you forget about the fact it was holiday season and you were freshly alone.

(at the time, you had told yourself that it didn't matter that you hadn't flirted with anyone since your break up with your long-term ex—you'd never learn if you didn't try. at least that's what you had told yourself when you went up to the mystery man you'd been exchanging glances with all night.

hi, he'd said, tilting his head. i'm heeseung.

dark eyes, messy hair, kissable lips, it was exactly what you needed to get off your training wheels again. pulling out the stool next to him, you sat close enough to ignore the way your head spun a little at the sudden movement.

you definitely downed your drinks too fast after your friends left you alone, but you pushed the feeling aside and fixed your eyes on heeseung as best you could in the lowlight. come here often?

no, actually, i'm new in town.

really? it was hard to believe anyone would willingly come to a town where nothing ever happened except stagnancy. not for fun, i'd imagine.

he laughed. i start my new job in a few days, at nearby university. would you call that fun?

you hummed, intrigued. hot and smart, you really scored big time with this one. but small talk could only ever interest you so far, especially when the top thing rolling in your mind was the scent of his cologne, the bob of his adam's apple, the chain around his neck just close-fitting enough to catch the eye and lead your gaze downwards to the dip in his throat. at least this one, you know to be indecent. i could show you something more fun, if you wanted?

he raised his eyebrow, setting down his glass and leaning close. bergamot, lilac, patchouli. maybe i'll take you up on that, then.

the rest you remember was getting an uber home, tugging him into your apartment the second you managed to push the door open after fumbling with your keys for god knows how long, making out with him in the kitchen for longer than you care to admit, and the trail of scattered clothes you found the morning after, leading from the living room couch to the bedroom.

well, you remember this too: the hot touch on the couch cushions, the laughing against the softness of each other's mouths as you tried to shuffle your way to the bedroom while keeping as much intimacy as possible, and of course, the actual sex—)

"you're off to a good start, but you need to work on your sentence structure." you jump, back straightening. heeseung looks up at you, neutral-faced as ever. "there are only so many loopholes to not ending a sentence before you just have to use a period."

ok. you frown. that was uncalled for. "that's not—"

"also," he turns the paper around, pointing at the third paragraph. "make sure to check if your em and en dashes are used appropriately. it's a sloppy look, otherwise."

it's like it never happened. he hasn't even spared you an extra glance, not when you saw him during discussion section, not when everyone else filed out of the classroom, not even when he called you in for individual office hours to check over your paper. you'd made the appointment days ago, of course, before you knew of the...predicament you would land yourself in, but the nonchalance in which he barely looks at you has the wolf inside you howling the longer you sit here pretending nothing happened.

(if you didn't know better, you'd think you were mistaken—it's what you'd initially thought when you saw him in front of the blackboard. maybe Hot Guy At The Bar had a twin brother. if he was also named heeseung, that was more of their parents' concern than yours.)

but you do know better, which means you know there are sinister intentions beneath his act. he's playing mind games on you, watching carefully, waiting to see when you'll crack. a trap laid specifically for you.

if there's one thing you don't do though, it's lose. so you push aside all memories if his hands anywhere on you and the feeling of his bare back underneath your nails and his mouth on your neck and you clear your throat, blinking rapidly.

"are you listening?"

"yes." he looks up at you again through his ridiculously slutty glasses, gaze smoldering. a sudden vision hits you, of the big pile of papers on his desk getting shoved in a big sweeping motion to the floor, of you and him getting up to no good in this very office, on the chair, on the desk, under the desk—

"—understood?"

"i agree."

he blinks. you blink back at him. "sorry," you clear your throat, speech jilted. "i mean yes. completely understood."

you grab your bag and scoot your chair out, standing to leave before any more beastly imagine spots threaten to further shatter your academic and professional life to pieces.

maybe this is a good thing, you think. maybe you were being paranoid and he didn't even remember you at all. maybe if you played it cool, you could pretend like nothing ever happened at all, dignity in tact. your pride was another matter, but you'll soothe that over with a nice trip to the college bar tonight, a strict 'NO TEACHER ASSISTANTS' sign plastered on your forehead for your next hookup.

"thanks, heeseung," you say oh-so-professionally, turning back to nod him goodbye.

heeseung nods back, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "i look forward to working with you, miss y/n. i'm sure we'll have a lot of fun this semester."

it's nothing special, you're sure he says that to everyone, but the way he says it... you freeze, hand on the doorknob.

he remembers you.