#also this one box that is incredibly Sturdy

[gayfour]

I have discovered that about half of being an adult is keeping random stuff Just In Case.

[commodoreshock]

Objectively speaking Boxing Day is probably the stupidest day to send off joycon controllers to Nintendo to get fixed, but that’s the day I had motivation and time for it, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[httpscomexe]

Avengers Crumbus

Summary: Everyone is excited for Christmas except Bucky.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Incredibly corny.

Word Count: 1468 (Find all chapters here)

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

It was Christmas Day in the Avenger tower.

Tony was getting drinks ready, with Pepper helping him ready enough food for everyone there. Everyone else was decorating cookies in the lounge room, a good majority of them with coloured icing to look like themselves. You can’t help but smile at it all. Everyone dressed in Christmas sweaters, smiling and all talking together like they were all a big family, and they were all there. Except Bucky. It was his first year in the tower, so you understood why he didn’t want to be part of the entire holiday. He would rather trap himself in his room and pretend he’s just a shadow against the walls.

“Y/N! Get your ass over here and help me!” Wanda giggles, standing up and grabbing your hands to drag you over to the couch, and she hands you an icing tube, she was decorating her gingerbread house. Was it sloppy and an absolute mess of icing and candy? Yes, but, it was adorable. It honestly suited her well.

“Okay, okay!” You giggled in response as she drags you over, and you help with putting the roof and walls apart, sliding the tip of the icing tube through the little cracks to keep it as sturdy as icing could keep gingerbread sturdy. You look over, and see Steve and Natasha knee to knee, painting a last minute Christmas ornament, and Tony carries in some drinks, setting everyone’s favourites on the table in front of where they were sitting.

“Alright, let’s get this party started. Who wants to go first?” Pepper follows after him, Peter walking behind her and helping her carry in plates to set on the tables as well, and you grab your plate.

“How shall we decide this year?” Bruce stretches.

“Youngest first!”

“We did that last year! How about oldest first?”

“We did that the year before last year.”

“Well, rock paper scissors?”

“That’ll take wayyy too long!”

“How about newest recruits?” Clint looks over at you. “We can have Y/N start, then we can play popcorn and she can decide who goes after her, and so forth.”

“Well, technically, isn’t Bucky the newest-?” You hesitate.

“Well, he doesn’t wanna be here. So unless you think you’d be able to get him out here.” Tony bends down next to the Christmas tree, grabbing your first gift, your name written in Steve’s handwriting. “Then guess what? You’re first.” You take it slowly from his hands, and look over at Steve, who smiles softly back at you before pulling Natasha closer, kissing her forehead.

“Alright. I’ll go first.” You lean back, and unwrap the gift, trying not to rip it because you know Vision likes to collect the papers, even though he doesn’t ever join, saying Christmas was useless.

Inside the wrapping paper is a box, which you have to open as well, and once you peer inside, you smile and chuckle a little.

“Oh my God Steve…” You roll your eyes.

“What? Maybe then you can definitely get Bucky out of his room.” You take out one of the pieces of cloth, and show it to him with a stupid blush and smile on your face.

“You got my daughter lingerie?” Tony glares at Steve, but you can tell he’s only joking.

“That’s okay, wait til he sees his.” You shrug. You got him condoms.

A while goes by, at least an hour. Normally unwrapping gifts wouldn’t take so long for a a normal family, but there was some sort of conversation about every item that was given. Soon, there was only one box left, it was a smaller box. It wasn’t very well wrapped, so it was either by Peter, who was improving with the help of Pepper, or Bruce, who’s arm is still messed up from the snap.

You take the little gift in your hands, but before you can unwrap it, you notice there’s no tag.

“Who’s this from?” You hold the gift up a little, and every glances at eachother. Bucky…? You don’t say it outloud. You didn’t want Steve or Tony to tease him endlessly for his horrible wrapping skills. Plus, it was possible that it wasn’t Bucky.

You start to unwrap the gift, taking off the little bow first before taking off the paper, a little blue box with a silver heart on it on the top cover. You take off the lid, and on a little cushion is a necklace, two rings wrapped around each other with the chain; and it looked like both with adorned with diamonds. It makes your lips go slightly agape, and you take it gently out of the box, smiling, and out of the corner of you eye, you see Steve smiling. He’s proud of Bucky. You assume he wasn’t sure about getting you something, and being the great friend that he is, Steve managed to push him along.

“I uh… Well whoever got it for me, I love it.” You mumble, and Wanda reaches out to help you put it around your neck, clasping it in place.

After everything is cleaned up, and everyone is ready to head to bed, Thor in his new My Little Pony bathrobe. You dry your hands from washing the dishes with Peoper, and tell everyone goodnight before going to your room, taking off your sweater, and switching from your jeans to your plain red and black pyjama pants. Then you look in the mirror, your hair a messy bun, loose strands falling out, looking a mess. And you touch the two rings that are hanging by your chest. Then, without another thought, your leave your room in your bra and pyjamas, heading straight to Buckys room. Your theory seriously needed to be confirmed.

“Buck?” You don’t even knock, you just walk in on him, reading a book in black joggers, comfortable already in bed and… shirtless… anyways.

“Do you have hands?”

“Uh- yea?” Weird question…

“Can you curl them into fists?”

“Yes..?”

“Do you know how to knock?” You roll your eyes and move to his bed, sitting in the edge by his feet, and you see his eyes go to your chest. Not your breasts, but the necklace.

“Did you get this for me…?” You get straight to the point, and you watch as he sets his book aside before leaning forward, and he crosses his legs before patting the spot in front of him, which you quickly scoot over until you’re both sitting with legs crossed directly in front of eachother.

“Yes. I did. I’m sorry I didn’t come out today, I-“

“Buck…” You hush him, and put a hand on his knee, which he stares at. “None of us are going to force you to come out of your room. If you want to be alone, then that’s fine.” You reach up, gently grabbing his chin so he’d look at you. “I love the gift, James.” He smiles, and honestly rare occurrence.

“Hah- I haven’t gotten a decent gift for anyone in a while… but Steve said you would love it…”

“Well, it’s amazing.” You want to ask so many questions. Like why rings? Why you? Why would he spend that much on you.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course Bucky, you can tell me anything.” You take your hand away from his face to lean back, but his hand basically shoots up, gently grabbing your wrist to keep your hand there.

“I uh… Fuck.” He shuffles a little. “I really like you.” You both stare at eachother for a minute, a tiny smile trying to force its way upon you. “Fuck that’s so corny, I’m sorry.”

“No, no that’s not corny. How did that word even get into your alphabet?”

“I’m not that old.”

“Yea you are.” You both stare again. “And I really like you too, James.” He smiles again, and his hand moves up your arm, until his palm is cupping your cheek.

“Tony would kill me.”

“My dad would kill the most perfect man that he chose for me, Buck. You’ll be fine. Equal treatment honestly.”

Then without warning while your babbling away, you feel his hand move to cup the back of your neck, and he pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds, and you melt into it, closing your eyes and reaching back to gently run your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck… I’ve wanted to do that forever…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift…” He tilts his head, both of your foreheads connected.

“But you did.” He chuckles. “I’ve got you, don’t I?”

“Of course you do…”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, James…”

[janesociety]

can you please do a james potter x reader where reader is always patching james up from quidditch injuries and comforting him in the hospital wing and stuff but roles are reversed when he's trying to teach you quidditch and reader gets a minor injury (sprained ankle or something). cue overprotective jamie & platonic marauders fluff<3

oh! darling

james potter x reader

type: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: after years of you taking care of james, it was finally his turn.

warnings: reader has sprained ankle, references to slightly worse injuries

notes: i am so incredibly sorry this took so long i don’t even have an excuse

masterlist

𝜗𝜚

You were never all that big a fan of flying. Being on a broom just never felt sturdy to you and you weren’t all that crazy about heights either. It wasn’t exactly that you were afraid per say, you just chose to avoid them when possible.

With a boyfriend like James Potter, you knew it would one day no longer be avoidable.

James, while on one hand being the most responsible, smart, and caring person you knew, was also the clumsiest.

You lost count on the number of times you’d had to walk him from the Quidditch Pitch to the infirmary for an injury. Sometimes he sustained them at a practice, a game- hell, sometimes he would just be flying around for fun and manage to throw himself from his broom. It became such a common occurrence, you now had your own little pharmacy under the sink in your dorm so you could fix some of his minor injuries up there. Then of course there were his more major injuries- like the time he broke his foot when it was smashed between the stadium wall and a bludger or when he got a concussion when he and Sirius slammed into each other when messing around. During those times, you’d sit with him in the hospital wing and keep him company. You were always sure to spend your free periods with him, catch him up on school work, bring him food- anything he needed.

To be honest, as much as you hated him getting hurt, you treasured some of those moments in the hospital wing when it was just the two of you being together.

When you woke up on that Saturday morning to James no longer next to you in his bed, you were confused. You’d both agreed the day before that neither of you wanted to go to Hogsmeade that weekend and you knew James didn’t have any Quidditch practice. You rolled out of his bed, finding one of his sweaters in his trunk and throwing it on. You made your way to the mostly empty common room- most people were already at breakfast so they could eat before leaving for Hogsmeade- and found Lily buried in her books at a corner table.

“Hey, Lils,” you said, sliding into a seat across from her.

“Hey,” she said, her eyes not looking up from the page of the herbology textbook she was reading. You leaned awkwardly back in your seat, not exactly wanting to disturb her, but not knowing what to do with yourself when you didn’t know where any of your other friends were and you were feeling just a bit too lazy to look.

“Sorry,” she said, finally looking up at you and sitting back. “I haven’t had time to study recently- I’m hoping to catch up today while everyone’s at Hogsmeade.”

“No- no, you’re fine, I can leave if you want,” you said quickly. “Have you seen James?”

“Him and Sirius walked out of here an hour ago looking for Marlene and Dorcas and I haven’t seen them sense,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They seemed overly excited, per usual. I think they were up to something.”

“God, maybe I don’t want to look for him anymore,” you said, laughing through a yawn.

Your wish was granted- not exactly in the way you wanted- as the porthole swung open as James and Sirius marched in with their hands full. It took you a minute to see what they were holding- Sirius was holding a large box that you quickly recognized as a chest that held all the different Quidditch balls and James was holding three brooms. Three.

“Oh, darling, you’re up,” he said, gently setting down the brooms next to you and kissing your head. “We were gonna come up and get you.” He wrapped his arms around your neck from behind you and rested his head on your shoulder. You made weary eye contact with Lily at the sight of the brooms. You hummed.

“What’re the brooms for?” you asked, recognizing only one of them as his. He chuckled in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“Quidditch, darling, what else?” he said, pecking your cheek after. He was always affectionate, but you could tell he was getting ready to question you about something.

“Oh,” you said, turning your head to see Sirius running up the stairs to the dorm.

“Me and Pads were thinking-“ well that’s never good- “that maybe you would come out to the pitch with us today and fly around a bit?” Your eyes went wide.

“James, I- you know I hate flying,” you said, turning to look at him. He loosened his arms to allow you to move.

“I know! I know, but I was thinking if me and Pads were there to help you out, you might feel better,” he said, massaging your shoulder. “I thought it could be fun.” You looked to Lily for help but she gave you a good luck look and quickly buried herself back into her books. “Please, love?”

“Fine.”

“Come on, darling!” James yelled from above you. “You’re gonna do great!” You resisted the urge to flip him off at his well-meaning encouragement.

You’d flown before, of course- it was a class after all. So you knew what you were doing, you just didn’t want to be doing it.

“Oh, the things I do for you,” you muttered under your breath as you began levitating off the ground. It took you a moment to get used to the sensation before you floated up to the level James and Sirius were at. Your hands were gripping the broom so hard your knuckles were white. It was less of you being scared of the broom and more not trusting yourself to be able to adequately operate it.

“You’re doing great,” James said, flying up next to you with a quaffle tucked under his arm. He reached out his free hand to take yours but you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, but no,” you said, cracking a smile and staring at his hand. He chuckled, reaching over and patting your shoulder- the act making you squeak at the feeling of being slightly unbalanced.

“Sorry!” he said quickly, laughing at how the blood had rushed to your face. “You’re alright, darling, you’re not gonna fall.” You let out a huff. “I won’t let you fall, how about that?” You smiled at him. “Alright, c’mon.” He motioned for you to follow him and you did, heading over to where Sirius was flying in circles.

“Finally!” he groaned, stopping as you two approached. “I don’t know why you’re so worried, Y/N. You were good at it in first year when we had to take the class.”

“I never liked it,” you said, pointing and flexing your feet to get used to the feeling of them not touching the ground. “But I can do it.”

“Okay, okay, finally ready to play?” Sirius asked, motioning for James to throw him the quaffle.

They explained the game. It was basically modified Quidditch so that it could be played with one ball and three people. It was decided that you would be goalkeeper first- which you were grateful for. The rules were James and Sirius were both trying to score on you, but when they intercepted the ball, they had to go back to the center. James used a charm to create foggy lines of smoke in the air where the centerline was because “Sirius is a big cheater so we need to be able to see.”

It was fun, actually. You surprised yourself with how quickly you picked up the skills you’d thought you’d forgotten. You were able to hold your own in the goal, blocking almost all their shots- even after they stopped going easy on you.

“You’re letting him win!” Sirius groaned after James scored for the third time. “This isn’t fair! You’re biased.” You rolled your eyes.

“You should know me well enough to know I’d help James lose before I’d help him win,” you said.

“Hey! I can hear you!” James yelled from farther back, tossing the ball to Sirius.

“Yeah, yeah, just get going,” you said, flying lazily around one of the goal posts. You were still moving pretty slow, the fear of falling still not totally dissipating, but you could keep up with them so far.

The games soon started again, Sirius being extra as ever and doing small spins around the stadium as James tried to chase him around. When Sirius took a shot, James raced in before you could catch it and dashed back to the centerline.

“Show off,” you muttered sarcastically as he whipped past you and sent you a goofy grin. You couldn’t help but smile at him.

You got somewhat bored when their back and forth went on just a little too long, and found yourself staring mindlessly around you. The wind was whipping your hair around your head and you were somewhat dreading what it would look like when you-

“Y/N!”

You didn’t have time to react before something hard collided with your head. You were exactly sure what was happening, but you felt everything spin and the wind picked up. You couldn’t figure out if you were dizzy or falling. When you felt your broom slip out from under you, you decided it was probably both. The simple realization you were falling from so high was enough to make your stomach start doing somersaults faster than the rest of your body was.

James immediately went into a nose dive the second he saw you slip. He was already dashing over to you before you fell- seeing the path of the ball that had left his hands seconds before. Sirius was behind him, shouting an incantation you couldn’t hear between the blood rushing to your ears and the air passing you. You slowed suddenly, the spell Sirius had cast finally taking effect, but not soon enough.

You crumpled to the ground, letting out a gasp.

“Y/N!” James yelled, stumbling off his broom and rushing towards you. “Y/N, hey, hey,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your face was pinched with pain as you gripped your ankle.

“I’m- I’m alright,” you said, shakily, your eyes still closed. You tried to move but let out a pained gasp when you moved your leg.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said, cupping your face. You opened your eyes to see the fear and worry contorting his face as he looked at you. Seeing him fuss over you almost felt worse than your foot. “Don’t move,” he said, carefully tucking his arms under you and pulling you up so he could carry you. You tried not to grimace as your ankle flopped around from the jerkiness of the lift.

“I’m fine, James,” you said, the grip you had on his shoulder betraying your words.

“Just hold still, yeah?” he said, his worry for you evident on the crease between his brows. “I’ll get you up to the infirmary.”

Sirius was quick to run after the two of you, holding all three brooms under his arm.

“Alright, Y/N?” he asked as he walked in step with James.

“Yep,” you said, grimacing as James bounced you around a little too hard.

“Sorry- sorry,” he said, doing his best to hold you as still as possible as he started walking up the hill towards the castle. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, James, it’s not your fault,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

There was silence

“So, you reckon I’ll get an offer from Puddlemore next year?”

Sirius snorted.

“Oh, definitely, but they’ll be fighting offers from the Cannons and Harpies, too,” Sirius said. “But Puddlemore will give you the best offer, so you should play for them.”

“Maybe I'll just go wherever James gets an offer for,” you said as you all stepped inside the castle.

“Poor lad won’t get nearly as many as you,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

James chuckled hesitantly as you arrived at the infirmary, clearly trying to avoid the guilt gnawing at his stomach.

Madam Pomfrey was quick to usher you to a bed with a quick “Why is it always you lot?” and a wave of her wand.

James sat you down and was quick to grab your hand as you adjusted yourself on the bed. He sat on the edge of the hard wooden chair next to your bed. His hands cupped yours as his eyes glared daggers into your ankle.

“I should… I'll go put the brooms away,” Sirius said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. You nodded and he was out of there in the next moment.

“Jamie,” you said. He wasn’t looking at you. “James,” you said again, squeezing his hand. His eyes finally met yours, and you couldn’t find the words to describe the look of hurt on his face. “I’m alright.”

“I know,” he said shakily, a breathy chuckle coming from his mouth. “I know.”

“And it’s not your fault,” you said. He looks away from you again.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, the pain clear on his face even as he faced away from you. If there’s one thing that hurts James Potter more than seeing his loved ones in pain, it’s being the one that caused the pain.

“If I accept your apology will you stop moping?”

James laughed, his head ducking down and eyes crinkling at the sides. He brought your hand up to his lips, resting them on your knuckles before peppering kisses all over your hand.

“I truly don’t deserve you,” he said, smiling softly at you.

“Don’t go all soft on me now just because I’m injured,” you groaned as he moved to peck your cheek a few times.

[prettyboykatsuki]

warms-ups | osamu + nsfw + cream

✬ wc ; 1.5k | ✬ tags ; afab + fem!reader, mentions of creampies, kitchen sex / after hours, alchohol, childhood friends to lovers, 18+

✬ a/n ; i SWEAR i did not rig this one at all😭

There's something about Osamu Miya that sends your spine tingling.

A divine kind of irony, because upon meeting them - you always preferred his brother. Atsumu is approachable to you, always has been. Poorly dyed blonde hair, with big round eyes and a signature pout that you've hardly seen him without. Atsumu is expressive and extroverted - at times deeply stupid in a way that's incredibly endearing.

You've known the Miya twins since you were snot-nosed brats though (long before the poor box dye), and it was easier for you to be alone with Atsumu. Atsumu took up so much space in a room that you never have to worry about fitting yourself in. He fills every place with his presence in a way that lets you hide behind him. Atsumu is like the sun.

And in contrast, Osamu is a lot like the moon. It took you a little longer to understand him, especially when you were young. They were twins but Osamu felt mature in comparison. Embodied a story of level, steadiness that left you unsettled.

(You learn later that this is a deceitful interpretation. Both of the Miya twins are petty and ridiculous - it's just that Osamu schemes it and Atsumu wears it on his sleeve)

Osamu has been a mystery to you since you can remember. He was never expressive enough for you to figure it out well, your exchanges being brief and stilted. It got less awkward gradually, a sense of acceptance settling in as you entered your teen years.

There's something valuable about being alone with someone, in complete comfortable silence. At 15, Osamu Miya felt a lot like an old couch. A place to come back to, with achey feet. A place you'd fall asleep, with your jeans still on and your head somewhere else.

You were there for their many milestones. When they got into Inarizaki, when they played all their games. You were there for their metaphorical break-up as they got to adulthood and you all parted ways to your different paths in life.

You still saw the Miya twins on a semi-frequent basis. You and Osamu were the first people Atsumu always called. Always in group messages and calls. When you finally graduated college, you landed a job close to the very Onigiri Miya opened.

It was probably about then. It wasn't like you hadn't always known about how good looking the Miya twins were. Your friends used to practically beg you to set them up and you don't blame them. But Atsumu always felt like a little brother to you and...

Osamu felt...not like that. But it wasn't like you could process that information at any point. Swept up in life, in teenage insecurity (because damnit, Osamu was always ridiculously good looking too) and in the general awkwardness of crushing on someone you've known since diapers - you tried to ignore it.

You thought those butterflies would die if you suffocated them, so you buried your nose in the books. Grew from a girl into a woman, into a fully bloomed person all in a few years. None of it mattered, because spending time with Osamu always seems to make you feel 15 again.

You don't quite know when it happened. One day of deciding to do your work in a booth at Onigiri Miya turned into many, and it seems like you and Osamu see each other a lot lately.

Osamu Miya is a lot bigger than his brother, you learn quickly. Atsumu is lean from his setting, muscular in a lithe way. Natural agility all befitting of his slippery character.

Osamu, too, has grown in a way befitting of his personality. Osamu got bigger. Started hitting the weights enough that he's muscular, soft and sturdy, the kind you can only see when he flexes. They're both still tall, but Osamu... is big.

Osamu is also, very handsome. Aware of it too, because he usually uses it to reel in customers. His face is different to you. Osamu looks less like a boy you grew up and more like a man you'd squeeze your legs together thinking about.

But even now, you don't understand what thoughts Osamu has about you.

You thought you were imagining it. The intensity of his gaze when he peeked at you from the counter. The subtle touches and plates of food you didn't pay for. Maybe he felt like he should take care of on old friend. Maybe the low way he whispered in your ear telling you "take care on yerr way home," were just your imagination playing tricks.

You only learn it late, taste-testing recipes in the back of his kitchen that it was all very intentional. It's your fault for forget Osamu is the kind of person to scheme.

A little sake in your system has you stumbling over your words. In the midst of your bumbling - all it takes is one, "I've always liked you" to entangle yourself with Osamu Miya.

A little kissing, a little touching - the way he coaxes you is so much like him. Subtle but overwhelming, a full moon in a deep sky.

In the back of Onigiri Miya, Osamu has your panties around your ankle. The warmth of alcohol is bubbling in your chest and embarrassment is rushing through every vein in your body - you want to shy away from him.

Of course, Osamu won't let you. You've got your arms around his shoulder, thick neck against your forearms. Your legs are up in the air, and your back is so hot against the cool metal. All you can feel his him in the air around you. He smells like a man who works, sweat and skin and salt.

You can feel the euphoria in your body to the point it's gut-wrenching, an overwhelming sensation like you're anxious. It's hard to describe. Tacky from sweat, you feel your fingers tremble as you move your hands to squeeze his shoulder.

Osamu puts his hand over it, squeezes it, kisses your wrists with all the affection of over two decades of desire. You feel it all over your body, delirium setting in. You want him so much you don't know what do. You whine, open your mouth to say his name.

Osamu shushes you. His cock is hard, thick and so heavy. He's got hair that tickles your legs. You can feel the tip press into your clit like he's kissing it, pushing against the soft folds of your pussy makes you shiver. Arousal drips out of you, a fruit squeezed in big hands that pick them. You want to cry.

"Samu," You mumble, your lips sheen and your heart in your belly "Osamu, please,"

"Look at you," He says, sounding just as bad as you "Wantin' it so bad. Never seen ya like this,"

You've never been like this. You don't get it yourself. Why you're head feels so blank. Your jaw feels heavy like you can't close it. Inside it's all empty and you want to be so full of him, surrounded by him.

"I don't know," You hiccup, holding him so tight. You want to sob "I really want you. Wan' you to want me too,"

Osamu laughs. God, it sounds good. Deep and throaty.

"I do. Ya know I do, don't ya? Our whole lives. My whole life."

"Osamu," You repeat. He laughs a little, maybe like he's amused. It feels so merciful when kisses you. The feeling of your bare chest against his makes you feel euphoric, skin practically begging for his attention.

"That's right, 's me" He says, trailing his lips down your neck "I'm already here,"

He doesn't ask you for anymore, so it feels like he's reading your mind. His fingers grip your hips as he eases his cock inside of you. Inch, by agonizing inch - you can feel it. The rubbing of such sensitive skin. You gasp and tighten your legs, crossing your feet at the ankle. You hold his back and feel your eyes roll over into your head. Pleasure pulls you apart.

"Oh, oh fuck," You feel your nails dig into his skin, Osamu hisses "Y-yeah, yeah, like that."

You don't know where you start and Osamu stops. It's all the same, one mess of limbs and one train of thought where your feelings swallow you up. Your heartbeat beats against your ribs and you feel like you can't handle. Osamu eases into you slow, his cock makes you so full. You can't take in enough air for how much it pushes out, walls taking shape of him naturally.

"So damn good," He says with all the force in the world. You think Osamu means it when he says you wants you "Shit."

"Please fuck me."

"Till ya can't take it, yeah? Promise, promise I will."

"Want you to cum in me," You admit, shame disappearing as the seconds pass. As Osamus cock fucks you open enough to confess about it "Over 'n over,"

"Want me to cream in you so bad? Yerr so dirty, where'd you go 'n learn that from huh?" He taunts, but it's not mean. You whimper as you roll your hips, your clit throbbing's with need.

"Please, pretty please?"

"Anything for you," He says, and you feel your insides tremble with need - even buried to the tilt. He pulls out in one swift motion, pushing back in with the same force as before. You cry out his name and your body loses it's strength "Take it f'r me, okay?"

[mysaintkitten]

Blush | Kitten Braden x fem!reader

prompt: kitten needs a bit of spice in the bedroom (NSFW!! NO MINORS!!)

WARNINGS: bottom!kitten, strap-ons, feminization, fingering, rimming, praise, slight degradation (light use of the word slut/whore)

word count: 2.4k (not proofread lol)

“kitten, i’m gonna trip!” you squeal as kitten holds her hands over your eyes while trailing closely behind you, you stick your arms out in front of you in attempt to blindly navigate throughout your shared flat. you hear her giggling from behind you, “just trust me, darling!”

you feel around the walls, shuffling your feet to try and not stumble over whatever miscellaneous things may be skewed throughout the hallway.

“can you at least give me a hint?”

“no hints, we’re nearly there.” she hums, continuing to guide you. the anticipation is killing you, kittens been dangling this surprise in your face the entire day. and now you’re mere moments away from finding out what it is.

she then stops you, “hold on, keep your eyes shut” she whispers while removing one of her hands from your eyes. despite your eagerness, you obey her wishes and screw your eyes shut. you hear kitten twist a knob and nudge a door open before she resumes leading you towards the surprise.

once in the room, she lets go of you and shuts the door behind her. then, you feel her creep up behind you. the front of her body is flush against the back of yours, she drags her fingertips along your arms.

“open your eyes.” she purrs into your ear, her warm breath sending chills throughout your body. you slowly peer your eyes open. you realize you’re in your shared room, the beds neatly made and there’s a box placed atop the duvet. what could she be hiding in this box? you giggle, “what is it?”

“open it and find out.” she responds, distancing herself from you and creeping over to the mattress. she crawls onto the bed and grins widely at you, clearly excited.

you sit on the edge of the bed and begin to unbox the surprise. as you pry the box open, you’re met with a strap. there’s a medium sized dildo, nothing huge but certainly not small, and a harness. you feel your cheeks burning slightly as you glance up at kitten. you had definitely teetered with the concept of topping kitten, occasionally slipping some fingers inside her while you suck her off, watching how much she enjoys the feeling of being full. she primarily preferred to top you, but sex and pleasure are extremely fluid. and since the two of you have formed a sturdy foundation both romantically and intimately, she thinks now may be the time to start exploring a bit more.

you pull the dildo out of the box, analyzing its curves and veins. “how long have you been wanting this, sweetheart?” you question, pulling the harness out as well.

she sighs “a little while now ..” she scoots closer towards you, “your fingers feel nice ‘n all .. really nice .. but i wanted something more.” looking into kittens eyes, you can tell something has shifted within her, seeing the toy again has ignited a sense of excitement within her. you strip your pants off and kitten aids in attaching the strap to your hips.

you smirk, looking down at her plush pink lips before looking back at her eyes. her eyes are just as shifty, the tension in the room becoming more palpable by the second.

you chuckle softly, “you’ve been craving something bigger for that little pussy, baby?”

a light pink blush spreads across her cheeks at the dirty words, her breath also becoming slightly more laboured. you love to just examine her. all this time spent together has made her incredibly easy for you to read. her bubbling arousal is clear as day in her expression alone.

she nods, gently batting her lashes, “i’ve been so desperate, darling,” she whines, tracing small patterns onto your hand with her finger. “it’s even worse when you’re away, my fingers don’t feel nearly as good as yours.”

you click your tongue and pout slightly, “oh, my poor girl ..” you lean in to kiss her lips, bringing one of your hands to her hips. while rubbing the smooth skin, you occasionally sneak your hand towards her ass and grip the soft flesh, making her whine into your mouth. she slips her tongue into your mouth and her kisses become needier, “you wanna get filled, hm?” you moan against her lips. kitten nods and places her hands onto you, feeling up around your thighs and waist. you pull away from her, “get on your hands and knees, love.”

she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth and shifts onto her hands and knees. swaying her hips in front of you, almost tantalizingly. her mini dress barely covering her ass.

you crawl forward, running your hands along her exposed thighs and nearly exposed ass. you flip the end of her dress up, pressing lightly against her barely clothed hole. she whines and arches against your touch. you slip her panties to the side and place a flat stripe against her opening.

“o-oh!” she gasps out of shock, her thighs shaking gently beneath her. her hips shift forward at the overwhelming stimulation. “stay still, let me taste you, baby ..” you groan against her, gripping her thighs harshly. you lap kitten up, her mewls and gasps enabling you to keep going. as you eat her out, you bring one of your hands between her legs and palm her growing bulge. making her hips jolt suddenly.

she moans into the pillows, grinding against your hand and face.

you hum against her and pull your mouth away, bringing your other hand to her hole. you slowly slide a single digit into her, fucking her slowly with your finger.

“mmh, baby ..” she whines, her voice high and airy. you place small kisses along her ass cheek and hips, sneaking a second finger inside of her. she moans louder and arches her back harder, you feel a small damp spot form at the front of her panties.

“oh, darling .. are you getting wet for me?” you purr, her arousal is nearly intoxicating to you.

“mhm ..” she whimpers, rutting her hips back to meet the thrusts of your fingers. you add in a third and her movements halt, her moans becoming shaky “use your words, hun.” you breathed as your own arousal begins to stir between your legs. hearing her moans, feeling her desperation, you could probably come from her sounds alone.

“y-yes .. ‘m wet for you-“ she groans, placing her hand on top of yours as you palm her. she moves your hand against her bulge, small breathy whimpers pouring from her lips. “you ready for my cock, baby?” you coo as you lean toward the nightstand, pulling a bottle of lube out from the drawer. “yes-s! please!” she huffs from anticipation. you squirt a generous amount of lube into your hand and coat the strap, then using the excess lube on kittens hole for good measure.

you line yourself up, teasing her ring of nerves with your cock head. “hm .. please .. no teasing, baby ..” she moans, pushing her hips back to try and get the tip in. part of you wants to prolong this and tease her more, but the other half of you needs to fuck her as soon as possible. you give into the latter, you can tease her another day.

you comply and slide the cock in while gripping her hips, a loud whorish moan comes from kittens mouth as she looks back at you with glossy eyes. her brows furrowed and her cheeks flushed while biting her lip harshly, you’re almost afraid she might draw blood. as you slowly slide back out she places her hand behind her and grips your shirt and drags her fingertips along your torso.

you bottom out again and begin to pick up your pace. you watch as her expression changes as you fuck into her faster, her eyes roll back and her mouth hangs open slightly. small gasps being punched out of her as each thrusts meets her hips.

“such a sweet, tight pussy, baby. taking me so so well.” you praise, bringing one of your hands down to her ass to grip her roughly as you fuck her.

kitten just moans in response and drops her head down and clenched her fists in the sheets, the cock filling her up exactly how she needed. you watch yourself pound into her, seeing her hole grip your cock was a sight you didn’t know would affect you so much. one of the harness straps has been applying consistent friction and pressure to your clothed wet cunt, it almost aided in the fantasy. you imagined how she felt stretched around your fingers, and how it would feel if she was stretched out on a real cock. the thoughts mixed with the sight in front of you was deliciously hypnotic.

you pick up your pace and slap her ass and you hear her yelp beneath you.

“who owns this pussy?” you purr, desperate to hear kittens fucked-out tone. “y-you do ..” she whines, barely audible as she hides her face within the pillows.

you bring your hand forward and lock your fingers into her hair, tugging her head up roughly. she moans loudly at the gesture, “i couldn’t hear you, baby, who owns this pussy?”

“you d-do, fu-ck!” she cries out, the tip of your cock rubbing perfectly against her sensitive spot. you release her hair and slap her ass again, “that’s it, good girl.”

she whimpers against the pillows, little ‘fuck’s and ‘so full’s pour out from her mindlessly. her senses being completely overwhelmed by pleasure.

“fuck me h-harder-“ she whines, meeting your thrusts with her hips. “desperate little thing ..” you mutter before fucking into her harder, kittens sounds becoming even more intoxicating- which you didn’t even know was possible.

you continue to fuck her at this harsher pace, “ha-arder!” she whimpers. you’ve never seen kitten act this way, she’s so blatantly cock drunk beneath you, and you’re eager to give her whatever she may want.

“jesus, you want me to fuck you like a whore?” you growl, pounding into her even harder. you’re afraid you might hurt her, but judging by her moans and her body language, she’s on cloud 9.

“yes, yes!” she rambles, turning her head to the side to speak more clearly, “‘m jus’ a whore, your whore, b-aby!”

“didn’t know my girl was such a cockslut .. i could fuck you like this for ages ..” you groan, glancing down at her reddening ass. the harsh pounding along with the smacks have left her cheeks clearly irritated, but it only added to the erotic nature of the scene.

“ngh, fuck!” she cries as she snakes a hand between her legs to hastily rub her neglected bulge.

you realize what she’s doing and you stop your thrusts, then proceeding to pull out. you watch at her used hole clench around nothing, gaping ever so slightly from your cock. kitten whines and attempts to catch her breath while peering behind her, “why’d you stop?”

“get on your back, i wanna see your face when you come from my cock.” you coo, hooking your fingers into her panties waist band and sliding them off. once removed, she turns onto her back, you can’t help but moan at how she looks. she’s so clearly fucked out, her lipstick and mascara smudged slightly with a faint blush spread across her cheeks, the strap of her mini dress sliding down barely exposing her tits, her flushed wet cock between her legs. she’s perfect. you then get a good look at her panties, which are significantly damp with her arousal.

“god, kitten, you’re drenched,” you chuckle lowly, “does the cock feel that nice?”

she struggles to look at you as she becomes embarrassed, but she nods.

“jesus ..” you mumble, tucking the panties behind you, “so hot how wet you get .. all f’me ..” you add as you bring your hips forward and tease her hole with the tip again. she brings her gaze back to you, this time wanting to watch as you enter her while mumbling small phrases about how she only gets wet for you.

you run your hands along her thighs soothingly while slowly sliding the cock in, “now, i want you to touch your clit for me while i fuck you, got it? show me how good it feels, sweetheart.”

her chest rises and her eyes flutter shut, she tried her best to watch you, but the euphoric fullness was too much for her to handle.

as you fuck into her at that same harsh pace, she brings her hand between her legs and begins to pump herself. her tip glistening with pre come as she twitches beneath you, her sensitivity at an all time high. seeing her face as you fuck her gets you unimaginably wetter, you think you might actually be able to come from the friction of the strap and kittens erotic aura.

“sh-it, darling, so good! ‘s so so good!” she whimpers loudly as her cock spills even more slick onto her dress.

“god, such a fucking whore. you’re gonna come all over your pretty little dress and ruin it, baby. all from my cock, huh?” you purr, dragging your nails along her sensitive thighs.

“yes, mh! so clo-ose!” kitten moans loudly, she fully doesn’t care if someone hears her at this point, all that she’s processing right now is overwhelming pleasure.

“come on my cock, pretty girl, that’s it.” you praise. your own orgasm is inching closer and closer and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to maintain your composure.

she grips the duvet with one hand and pumps herself feverishly with the other, “i’m coming-g!” she shouts, her thighs shaking around you violently as she shoots ropes onto her dress. watching her come undone on the strap sends you over the edge and your thrusts become shaky, causing you to cum in your underwear.

you give her a few more slow thrusts before she whines and signals for you to pull out, you oblige and slowly slide yourself out of her. you look at her entire body, her post-orgasm glow evident in her face, her slightly sweaty chest, her cum stained dress, her abused hole.

“who knew someone could look so gorgeous after getting the daylights fucked out of them ..” you coo, leaning your body above hers to kiss her sweetly on the lips, “‘m really glad i bought that ..” she hums while being barely coherent, “i am too, darling.”

——

don’t mind me just pleasing my wife thank you

[arabellavernierwrites]

take this to the bath. s.r.

summary : after a long day at work , spencer asks you to take a bath with him.

word count : 711

warnings : mentions of nudity , slight allusion to sexual acts

a/n : hello everyone ! i want to start this by saying thank you so much for being so incredible to me with the things i post. it genuinely means so much to me , and it makes me smile seeing everyone engage with my stories in such sweet ways. i wanted to make something a little more intimate for you all , so this is what came of that. i’m thinking of possibly delving into smut , and have even been tossing around the idea of making a version of this story that involves smut ? if that interests you , please let me know ! i would also love to hear some requests from you guys , my ask box and messaging is open if any of you would like to send anything in ! thank you all so much again. each and every one of you is so greatly appreciated and i really adore how kind you all are. have an amazing and wonderful day ! love you all !

spencer’s finger gently traced the skin of your thigh.

you both had had a somewhat exhausting day, and found yourselves seeking refuge on the couch. bodies entangled, hands glued to each other, one mouth searching for the other every once in a while. the living room was dark, the whole house was. the sun had set hours ago, but neither of you wanted to escape the comfort of your lover to turn a light on. so you stayed sewn together.

“would you like to take this to the bath?” spencer asked quietly, his voice innocent and thoughtful.

you smiled, turning to place a soft kiss on his lips, “i’d love to”.

his hand came up, lovingly placed against your cheek. the pad of his thumb rolled across your skin, back and forth again. his eyes were sweet, swirling around as if he were searching yours. a small, slightly timid smile came across his face, brought on by its own volition.

spencer carefully slid from your grasp, placing two sturdy feet on the ground. he reached out, grasping your wrists, pulling you up from the depths of the couch cushions.

in the bathroom, spencer kneeled down at the side of the tub, letting the hot water run. his fingers splashed beneath the stream, waiting for the temperature to be right. you stood back, unable to help yourself from watching in adoration. the way his brows came together in focus, his toes tucked beneath his feet to hold him up, his hand wrapped around the edge of the tub, it made your heart swell in an indescribable way.

your reflection slowly disappeared as a cloud of steam overtook the mirror. the small, tiled room was foggy, the air thick and sticky.

“it’s perfect,” spencer stated, standing and turning around, “what?”

“what?” you grinned.

“what are you smiling about?” he inquired, his hands gathering the fabric of your shirt at your sides.

“you’re cute,” you chuckled, placing a hand over his.

“may i?” he asked, pulling at your shirt.

you nodded.

spencer gently lifted the fabric over your head, placing it on the counter behind you. he stopped, reaching down to place a well-meaning kiss on your lips.

“may i?” you asked in return, unbuttoning the top of his work shirt.

“of course,” he stopped himself from stuttering, his face threatening to turn red.

you and spencer fully undressed each other, nothing more than the blanket of steam from the bath wrapped around your bodies.

undressing in front of spencer differed from what you had experienced in the past. no part of you ever felt vulnerable when you weren’t clothed in front of him. you knew you were safe from judgment, any sense of harshness or unkindness was absent from his mind. his gaze never felt disapproving or animalistic. around spencer, you always felt safe and equal.

he lowered himself into the bath, his bare back pressed against the cold tiles. a caring hand reached up for yours, assisting you as you carefully stepped into the tub. spencer spread his legs as you slowly sat yourself down between them. he adjusted slightly as you moved in his lap.

you allowed yourself to lean back, your shoulder blades flush against spencer’s chest. his body radiated heat. his long arms coming to rest against yours, thoughtfully rubbing circles on your elbows. you turned your head to the side, laying it against spencer’s collarbone. he nodded down, kissing the top of your head, his lips lingering.

“are you comfortable?” he asked, moving to meet your eyes.

“very,” you smiled quietly.

you and spencer met in the bathroom often. it wasn’t rare for the two of you to finish the day with a bath or shower together. sometimes it resulted in something more, but for the most part, you found comfort in such a simple activity. spencer’s sweet hands always had a place to call home on you. his touch was special, always gentle, and residing in the right places. and when you two were together like this, he always knew how to touch you.

“i love you, spencer,” you stated, lips pressing to his shoulder.

his fingers ran along the tops of your thighs as the warm water gently sloshed against your stomach.

“i love you, too”.

[balkanradfem]

So I decided to learn to knit! I've never before found a way to ethically and cheaply get yarn. I found a little ball of yarn outside at some point, as one does, and saved it, but beyond that I didn't have any other tools. Then I saw a video showing how you can take a thrifted machine-knit sweater, and undo it back into yarn, and then just knit with that. Incredible, since I have a full box of old sweaters, I just need to figure out which ones are easily undone.

So I grabbed my little ball of found yarn, and then I needed some needles. I looked up what I could use instead, and found there's plenty of alternatives; pencils, chopsticks, wooden sticks for barbecue. Looking around my room I realized I had some very long paintbrushes; I tried to use them, and immediately realized they need to have a pointy end. I grabbed a pencil sharpener and sharpened them; only this made them very rough and splintered. I needed to sand them down, but I had no sandpaper, and then I remembered that recently someone gave me a flat tool that removes dry skin from feet. I sanded them down with that, and it actually worked, they worked perfectly like knitting needles. They're even the same size.

The knitters probably already know this, but if you start knitting for the first time, especially if it's winter and you're under a blanket, some ancient human instinct will activate and you will feel that you are doing exactly what you're supposed to be doing and everything is well and right with the world. Creating fabric is a powerful thing to do, in a society where everyone needs fabric to stay alive, and go outside, and I like having this power to myself.

I found out there are two basic types of stitches; knit stitch, and purl stitch. I liked the knit stitch better, on the basis that purl stitch had 'bad vibes'.

It knew before that most fabric will be woven, or knitted, or in some cases, crochet, so I got little curious, and studied each layer of clothing on me, and every single item of clothing was knit, and it was all a purl stitch. I got fascinated by this, wondering if this is true for most clothing, or if I just somehow prefer knit things on me because they're nice and stretchy. Looking into other fabrics, I could easily tell that all of the sheets, pillowcases and kitchen cloths were woven, and that they were much sturdier and less stretchy for it.

I looked at stuff in my closet, and found that I had a scarf, hat, and pants that were woven, but in very soft and warm fabric, and they were very sturdy and non-stretchy as well. I then wondered what was the logic behind it, and is there a traditional type of things that will be woven, that isn't just bedsheets and cloths?

I tried to find a video on youtube detailing that stuff, but no female-made video was found, so I'm now downloading several women-written audibooks on the topic of history of textiles. I think we should just take the power to make textiles back to us, because back when women were the maker of the cloth, it was just something we 'did out of the goodness of our hearts for our families' but it was also environmentally friendly, practical, sustainable and a beautiful, powerful craft. Now that m*n decided it's something to make money off, they created fast fashion, tons of waste and environmental damage, new types of slavery for workers, and the clothing isn't even practical anymore, it's made to fall apart.

So, back to my knitting, I have to say it's not happening very fast, I thought by the end of the day I would be done with that little ball of yarn and be able to tell how much fabric it can make, nope, did not happen, in fact I've been working on it two days and by this time I've barely made any progress. Apparently the 'purl stitch' is faster, well, I'm still refusing to do it. Boo purl stitch. The yarn I found outside is some of the worst quality yarn I've ever seen, not only it's different in thickness everywhere, but in some places there are 3-4 different threads distangled from each other, and it confused me so much while knitting that I kept adding stitches on the brush unnecessarily, until the entire thing could barely fit on one.

One thing that surprised me was how incredibly soft, stretchy and comfortable the fabric feels when made. I genuinely expected the fabric to be as horrifying as the yarn quality, nope, it's nice and comfy I absolutely love it.

There is a movement in online spaces for being mindful of environment when purchasing clothing, and making our own wardrobes, which is absolutely delightful; seeing people gain new respect and fascination for clothing, sewing and textile making, and then doing it themselves and becoming non-dependent on capitalism, it's the change the world needs. I didn't think I would try to join in, because I get so much discarded and unwanted clothing from others, I wouldn't need to buy any ever, but I did get fascinated by looms, natural fibers, and women doing all that work, that I can't resist trying it out.

[melodiousmonsters]

"Wubbox (Divina Mechana) average around 22ft/6.7m tall. The Wubbox are mysterious monsters that were discovered in an underground vault between all the natural island’s locations. There was one already activated named Wub. It seemed to know a lot about its species and was fairly happy to give out certain information, but would clam up at other requests like asking who made them or what their purpose is.

They are activated by placing living single elemental eggs into specially made cavities in the interior of their boxed form. Once that is done they activate. They start off able to talk and do basic things but they have virtually no personality like a hatchling. After a few days it starts to rapidly mature and starts acting more like an adult monster. They’ll start messing around with their environment and running experiments on things they are curious about.

Wubbox are made of an alloy of brass and bubblerite called steptanium. It’s a strong substance with a plastic-y finish that’s outstandingly conductive, the extent of said conductivity would not be elaborated on. Steptanium can also shrink and grow and “dissolve into pure energy” which allows for the Wubbox to box up. A thin enough plating of another metal or other substance can be put over steptanium without interfering with its properties. That information was asked for by another Wubbox named Machin who wanted to paint itself pink. Wubbox like to customize themselves, except for Wub, it says that it’s for “sentimental purposes”.

Wubbox are made up of four main parts, the head, body, arms, and legs. The head has a mouth, eyes, and a base. The base holds the eyes in cups and the mouth is attached at the front. On the back of the base is a button that allegedly (thanks Wub for the information) causes the Wubbox to box involuntarily, I say allegedly because none of them will let me test it on them.

The body is a cage that surrounds their core. Their core is the power source of the Wubbox and holds their consciousness. It has a rubbery texture and is incredibly sturdy. It can squish a lot without breaking.

The limbs are very basic other than the fact they have perfectly safe exposed electrical currents running through them. The electricity has been manipulated to only flow through special disks that their limbs are made of. Even if you touch the disks right where the electricity hits them it still won’t shock you as you are not the disk so the electricity can’t flow into you. The forearms and feet also have the same properties of the disks except that they can be replaced with anything, it’s a mystery how that works, but it does."

To expand on the customization, a Wubbox can do a lot to themselves as long as they keep their basic body plan and primarily steptanium composition. I have only one example as i have been very busy as of recent (I'm on vacation and will be for every summer), it's the water island Wubbox (there's one wubbox per natural island not including Wub, making 6 Wubbox total) an it doesn't have a name yet as usual for the more individual monsters.

As for variants, well at least at the time this was made in universe Wubboxes didn't have variants, customizing themselves doesn't fundamentally change them as monsters so those aren't counted as variants. The epic Wubbox do exist but are too integral to how important things work in the monster world so I can't talk about them yet.

I'm going to probably switch to doing one of these every two weeks instead so I can put more time into them as I haven't been too happy with the quality of the recent ones. Also there isn't a lot here because it's Wubbox, they're lore important. I also changed out the egg waking up mechanic from the monster boxing because 1. the wublins don't use the egg mechanic anymore they just get shocked, and 2. there are only very small populations of monsters in the contemporary monster world in this au so boxing monsters would decimate the population.

[mostmouse]

Desperate Times

Hotaru's actions were calling for desperate measures. The man wasn't taking care of his wounds like he should be. You, being such a loving wife, have created a master plan of subduing and restraining him. All he has to do is give in.

(Hotaru x f!reader, explicit, 6,000 words, AO3)

In the days after Tanjiro had left the swordsmith village, things had calmed down but remained incredibly busy. Chief Tecchin was healing up, other swordsmiths helping him up to the hot springs for a daily soak, along with themselves. Many were injured and needed daily bandage changes, and burying those who you had lost in the demon attack weighed heavily on your soul.

You did what you could in the rebuilding, working from dawn to dusk, only returning home to sleep alone in your bed. Hotaru was still working on the special sword for Tanjiro, no matter how hard you worked to get him to rest. He had at least gone to the hot springs a few times with you to soak and heal - but in your opinion it wasn’t nearly enough.

The man was as stubborn as ever, but you wouldn’t thrive as his wife if you weren’t also incredibly headstrong. You’d been crafting into the late night on a way to subdue him and force him to let you care for his wounds. No doubt they were constantly reopening as he worked in his shack in the woods. Secluded away from everyone else, away from you, and keeping busy honing that damned sword.

After a couple weeks had passed, you had seen Hotaru twice and both times you were forcing him into the hot springs with the threat of breaking the sword while he slept. Not that you’d do something like that to a legitimately ancient sword, not that he needed to know that. But with how things were going, if it had been one he crafted and not a sword that carried the dreams of countless slayers and swordsmiths… You’d certainly consider it.

Stretching high, you stood from the table in your shared home, not that you’d shared it very much in the last few months. Grabbing the leather goods you had painstakingly crafted over the course of just barely an hour a day during the last few weeks of rebuilding, you also grabbed a tea set and placed it in a sturdy box before closing it all up tight and headed out to Hotaru’s workspace.

The village was coming along nicely, and everyone was gradually healing, some were even back to their full health. You were still sore, deep wounds healing nicely as you did what you could to support your fellow villagers. Rolling your shoulders, you tried to stretch out your stiff muscles. You hadn’t had much variety in work, and the repetitive actions were making you sore in other ways rather than your healing body.

However, conditioning could wait until after you looked after your husband. You knew he wasn’t caring for himself like he should. Did he even disinfect his wounds when you weren’t there? Heaven knows his eye needed special treatment that he most certainly wasn’t keeping up with. Your box had all sorts of healing items you planned to wrathfully unleash upon your dear love.

Approaching his shack, you hummed, heart fluttering at getting to see Hotaru. Even with as much of a handful as he was, he still unleashed a bundle of butterflies in your tummy every time. Smiling behind your mask, you made your way through the foliage, tilting your head as Kanamori opened and closed the door behind him, leaving the building with a shake of his head.

You lifted your hand in greeting, calling out to him. “Kanamori! Hey! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in the village much.” His head swiveled in your direction as you called out to him, trotting over to you and waving as well.

“Ah, I’ve been helping Haganezuka. Well, sort of. I’ve been trying to at least. I know you’ve been checking in on him as well, but I always see you so busy in the village that I thought I would help as well.” He shook his head, sighing with his hands on his hips, “That man is too old to act this way. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll get amnesia and forget all about swords. Then you could both retire and live happily.”

The two of you laughed, shaking your heads. “I don’t think there’s a force in this world that could ever make Hotaru forget even a scrap of his sword making knowledge. The second he woke up, he’d see the glint of steel and it would all come rushing back.” Kanamori sighed at your reasoning, agreeing immediately.

“You’re right. Oh well, who’s to say we can’t wishfully think?” Laughing once more, he pointed to your box as you calmed down, “What do you have there?”

Grinning behind your mask, you swayed side to side, “It’s a secret~” Leaning forward, the two of you snickered darkly, “I’m going to force him to obey me. That man is taking a break and letting me completely redress and sanitize his wounds. And then he’s going to kiss me and thank me for being so kind and loving to him.”

Kanamori covered his mask’s mouth, giggling. “I wish you the best of luck. I won’t come by for a bit to give you two privacy. Please, don’t hold back, he deserves no mercy.”

You nodded, clenching your fist, “I’m going to be completely ruthless. He’ll wish he had never married a harpy like me.” The two of you laughed happily, saying goodbye and parting ways.

Approaching the door Kanamori had just let himself out of, you slid it open and peered inside. As usual, it was dark and quiet, save for the sound of a whetstone. You smiled softly, letting yourself inside and closing the door behind you. Walking over to the desk, you lit the few oil lamps and sighed at the light. Finally, you looked down at your husband, working dutifully and unaware of the world around him.

It was charming, honestly. No matter how much he annoyed you and made you feel crazy, you admired his work ethic and determination. You dedicated yourself to your craft as well, but you knew you could never be at Hotaru’s level. Not that you wanted to, per se. Your marriage only had room for one clueless workaholic.

Making yourself comfortable, you pulled out the blanket and tea set from the box you carried. Laying it down flat, you smoothed out the wrinkles before lighting the small fire next to where Hotaru was working. Fishing out the small steel platform you had stowed here ages ago, you filled the pot with water, set it atop the stand, and let it boil.

You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at your husband, his mask obscuring his face as he silently worked. Sighing and shaking your head, you went back and prepared the tea leaves. Gathering a small glass jar, you tugged out some herbs and crushed them, adding them to Hotaru’s tea bundle in his cup.

You were sure this would be able to take down your burly monster of a man. They were powerful sedatives you had been using with other villagers to help prepare the wounded for surgeries that were needed urgently. Humming quietly, you contently prepared everything, going over and fluffing up the bedding that you’d soon have Hotaru in.

Finally, as the teapot began to whistle, you sat next to your husband and bumped him with your body. When he didn’t react, you reached up and tugged off his mask and bandana. “Hotaru~ I’m here with some treats for you.”

Once his handsome face was exposed, you leaned over and scattered kisses across every expanse of skin you could reach, petting his thick mane of hair. With one final kiss to his shoulder, you grabbed the teapot and prepared the tea, carefully noting which one was drugged. Finally, you brought out your secret weapon: dango you had spent the morning making.

It didn’t take long before Hotaru began sniffing the air. The homely aroma of the tea and sweet scent of the dango catching his attention. Whipping around, his good eye settled on you before immediately zeroing in on the treat in your hand. “Hotaru~ won’t you come eat with me, my love?”

With a grunt, he placed the blade down carefully, making his way over to the soft blanket and sitting down gruffly. Taking the dango from your hand he looked at it intently before his shoulders relaxed and a light blush covered his cheeks. Biting into it, he sighed, smiling slightly as the taste flourished on his tongue.

Humming, he looked down at the tea cup. Swallowing his mouthful of dango, he brought the tea to his mouth, blowing slightly before drinking it. You watched him with a fond, lovestruck gaze. “I’m so glad to see you, I miss getting to look at you, you know. I’m not sure if you remember, but I’m your wife.”

You laughed softly at his pout, interrupting as he opened his mouth, “I love you, you silly man. You know I admire your craftsmanship, but I wish you’d take even a second for yourself.” You frowned slightly, tilting your head, “The bandage over your eye is filthy. Let’s go to the hot spring and soak for a bit, okay? I’ll let you have your way with me~”

Winking, you pressed a palm to your cheek, trying to lure him in. However, he merely finished off his dango and grabbed another stick from the dish between you. You may or may not have also drugged the treats on the plate. “No. I have work to do.” You growled at the complete dismissal. “Kamado will soon begin his conditioning training at the butterfly estate. I need to make sure his sword is ready before then.”

You pouted, crossing your arms and huffing. “You can’t finish the sword if your eyes fall out, Hotaru.”

“My eyes won’t fall out, only one is damaged. Besides, that wouldn’t stop me.”

“The infection will spread inside of you and you’ll keel over.”

“I’m much too strong for something so small to kill me.”

You groaned at his petulant answers. “I’m gonna tell Chief Tecchin you’re out here working on that blade while your body enters necrosis.” He huffed, turning his head away and finishing off his tea. “And…” You clenched your fists, “I’ll tell him you made me cry with your horrible words and actions.”

At such a claim, Hotaru balked, whipping his head to you, “I’ve done no such thing!”

You stuck your tongue out, internally bewildered how he was still standing, even as he finished his second dango. “All’s fair in love and war, dear. I’m not above lying and scheming to get my way.”

The swordsmith huffed, standing quickly and turning back to his work station, “You can stay and do what you want, but I’m-” He stumbled slightly, and you grinned maliciously, rubbing your hands together. “I-I’m getting… back to… work… on this…” His words trailed off, and you immediately dashed to be in front of him, catching his massive body with yours and a sharp cry as you strained to hold him.

However, to your shock, he was still just conscious enough to speak to you, “Woman… what did you do to me?”

You groaned loudly, helping him onto his knees and nudging him backwards, “I’m making you rest, Hotaru. I need to clean your bandages. You’ll be up and going soon enough, just- give in already!”

Straining against his muscled body, you tried to shove him onto the bedding. However, even being massively drugged, he still fought back - although thankfully not anywhere near full strength. “No! I- don’t- need- rest!” With great effort he lifted you above him on his shoulder, wavering as you kicked your legs and slapped his back.

“Yes, you do! You big dumb meanie! Just lie down!” You anchored your feet on his waist before throwing all your weight to the side, rejoicing as he fell over with you. “Good boy! Now, get on the bed!”

His eye was fluttering as he tried to fight you off, movement becoming lethargic. Finally, he gave in and let you push him onto the bedding. He glared up at you from where he lay, “Just remember… I can take… what you dish out. But you,” He closed his eye, breathing evening out as his body relaxed, “Can’t ever handle… what I give back.”

Soon, his soft breathing was all you could hear, and you sighed in relief. That was always going to be the most difficult part of the endeavor. You ignored his last words, confident in the plan you had concocted over countless sleepless nights.

Grabbing one of the scrap steel rods around the shack, you dug a small hole and sat it there before grabbing a mallet and hammering it in. About halfway, you sat for a moment of rest. Taking a sip of your long cold tea, you gave yourself a few more moments before continuing your task. Once the rod was in the ground and you couldn’t move it even with all your strength, you went back to your bag of supplies.

Cheering as you grabbed thick leather straps, you held them up in the light. They were your pride and joy, having tanned the skin and crafted them specifically as restraints for your insanely strong husband. Looping them around the stake in an intricate knot, you secured them around his wrists, padding them with flexible medical tape beneath them beforehand.

Tapping his chest happily, you stripped his kimono off and finally started to unwind the bandages scattered around him. Gently dabbing them with disinfectant, you lovingly stroked salve on them and started to rebind them. Scooting around him, you sat his head on your soft warm thighs, pulling up your kimono so he had skin to skin contact. You blissfully ignored his thick arms as you pushed them aside, tied to the stake you had drilled into the ground.

You took great care with his damaged eye the most. You took your time in cleaning his face of dirt and oils before disinfecting the area. Humming softly, you leaned down and scattered kisses all across him before tugging his hair up and binding his eye once more.

Smoothing your hands across the soft white bandages, you whispered sweet nothings to him softly. “You’re such a silly man.” Petting his hair, you gently eased the tangles and knots out. “I wish you’d let me take better care of you, you always take care of me when I’m hurt.” Sighing, you leaned further forward, pressing the bandages on his torso, checking for any fresh blood. “I love you more than you know, you’re my whole world, Hotaru.”

Settling back down on your legs, you braided his hair before moving away. Packaging away the medical supplies, you placed the box on a workbench. You could probably keep them here since he wouldn’t leave the shack for at least another week or two. Finishing up everything you wanted to do, you looked back at your wonderful husband.

Trailing your eyes up his handsomely fit body, you shrieked as you met his open eye, staring you down. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling, his face stoic and gaze unwavering. “Ah! H-Hotaru, you’re already awake! That didn’t take long…”

Your voice was nervous, you were expecting him to start shouting, to wake up animated and upset as he usually did when you pulled stunts like these. You laughed to ease the silence in the shack as he continued to stare unblinkingly at you. Taking a hesitant step forward, you waved your hand timidly, “Ah, Hotaru? Can you hear me? Maybe you’re still asleep-”

Face twisting into one of effort, you screamed as he flexed his bulky arms, muscles straining as his cheeks turned pink with effort. “Stop that! You’re gonna reopen your-” However, with a loud roar, he pulled the steel stake clear out of the ground, leather bindings keeping him tied to it.

Speechless, you stood still as the rod clattered against the ground, Hotaru’s arms relaxing, letting out a long sigh. Pouting, you shouted in frustration, running out of the shack. Your husband’s eye widened, “Hey! You can’t run from this!”

Using his teeth and hand, he managed to untie one wrist and then the other, the rod landing on the ground heavily. Growling, he marched out of the shack, sword forgotten and the only thing on his one track mind being you.

“Where did you go?! I know you aren’t far, my wife wouldn’t abandon her target so easily.” Listening closely, he tried to make out any man made sounds, ignoring the rustling of the leaves and branches swaying in the wind. Finally, he saw a bush move as if it were trembling. “I see you. Come out.”

You held your breath, fists clenched in your lap as you sat there petulantly. You couldn’t see him through the thick foliage, but you could sense him near you. And of course, him being your hot headed lover, he wouldn’t leave without his prize in his possession.

“Don’t make me come get you, I’ll be much less gentle if I have to.” His voice wasn’t nearly as mad as you thought he would be, considering you drugged and restrained him.

Huffing to yourself, you peered over the top of the bush, glaring at him, your eyes shining in the setting sunlight. “No.”

Hotaru growled, face flushing, “And why not? I’m the only one here who’s allowed to be upset in this situation, what are you pouting about?” You balked at his accusation, pouting further.

“I am not pouting! And I can be mad, too! First of all, do you know how hard it was to get that stupid pole in the ground? And- and- you just rip it up! No problem! Ignoring how I wrapped you all back up again!”

Stomping towards you, the swordsmith stopped just before the bush, “Is that it? That I’m stronger than you? We both know-”

“That’s not it!” Your cheeks grew warm, frustrated tears gathering on your lashes, “Hotaru! You’re so- so-!” You stood finally, angrily stepping over the shrubbery and poking him in his chest, no force behind your hand. “I’m worried about you! You shouldn’t be straining yourself so hard!”

He leaned down over you, intense amber eye watching you, “If you hadn’t tied me to it-”

“I shouldn’t have to tie you up! Let me help you! You’re still wounded!” You threw your hands in the air, shouting in frustration, “Or don’t! Die for all I care! You’ll get some weird infection that’ll necrosify your muscles and you’ll wither away!”

Turning on your heel, you huffed as you walked away. However, to your irritation, your husband grabbed your wrist, obviously not content to leave the conversation like it was. “That’s not true and you know it.”

You refused to look at him, trying to tug your arm away, although there was no real effort behind it, either. “See, you’re not even trying. You barely touched me when you pointed at me earlier, as well.” You let yourself be dragged back towards him, melancholy slowly blooming in your chest as his massive arms wrapped around you from behind. “I was awake before you noticed me. I heard what you said.”

Feeling him take a few deep breaths, he groaned behind you, words tight, “I’m sorry I haven’t let you take care of my wounds. And I’m sorry I haven’t come home to you.”

You went limp in his arms, letting him hold you closer as your hands came up and rested on his forearms that held you. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tied you down like that.”

Hotaru quirked his brow, “Aren’t you going to apologize for drugging me?”

You huffed, turning your head, “No. I’m not sorry for that. That was necessary and I’d do it again the second you turned your back.”

Surprisingly, Hotaru began laughing softly behind you, his chest shaking you as he did so. You blinked, confused, before you began laughing with him. Wiggling your shoulders in a way to tell him you wanted him to turn you, you finally met his warm golden gaze. “I love you, ‘Taru. More than anything ever.”

Quieting down, he stared at you lovingly. Leaning down he kissed you softly, letting your hands stroke the loose braid of his hair. Pulling away, he lifted you into his arms, kissing you as you began to protest, “Carrying my wife won’t hurt me.”

You sighed, resting your head on his chest as you stared adoringly up at him. “We’re two crazy people, huh?” That had your husband huffing in short laughter, shaking his head.

“We’re lucky to have found each other.” You smiled softly, kissing every expanse of skin as you could reach. Hotaru leaned down as he entered his workspace once more, setting you down on the bed as he went back and closed the door. You started to get up until he shot you a glare. Stilling, you looked up at him in question. “I think you should make it up to me. Seeing how you interrupted my work, drugged me, harassed me…”

Laughing incredulously, you gave him a look. “Make it up to you? And how exactly should I do that, Mr. Haganezuka?”

The massive man in front of you merely smirked, licking his lips. Letting his hand caress your cheek, he soon found his way and tangled up in your hair. Giving it a tug, he made you look up at him from your knees. “Surely you can think of something, Mrs. Haganezuka.”

You whimpered softly, shining eyes looking up at him. “As long as you don’t overexert yourself.” He smiled softly, assuring you he wouldn’t before you scooted forward on your knees. “Good. Well then, let me make it up to you, my love.” His cheeks flushed slightly as you tugged at his baggy work pants, long since stained and patched over a dozen times.

Kissing his belly, you pulled down the fabric bit by bit, until finally his semi hard cock was freed and they pooled around his ankles. Slipping them off, along with his shoes, you then gently removed his socks as well, kissing his knees once you finished. Hotaru covered his face with one hand, the loving and intimate gesture flustering him.

You hummed, kissing his thighs as you peered up at him, “So cute~ My husband is the most wonderful man in the country. I’m the luckiest person to have had the honor of marrying him.” With a smile still on your lips, you brought one hand to hold his shaft gently, listening as he hissed.

Licking his underside up to his tip, you kissed him there cutely, making a loud smooching sound. You loved being able to do this, to help him feel good. You knew he didn’t bother getting himself off when he wasn’t with you, always too focused on his work. Occasionally he would take you during his work, but almost always it was when you were at home together.

Slipping the tip of his cock into your mouth, you swirled your tongue around him, petting the underside where you knew he was sensitive. He sighed above you, hand tangling in your hair as he rocked his hips forward a bit. Along with his muscle and weight gain over the months, his cock had swelled as well, filling out your mouth and throat deliciously.

You moaned as you took him deeper, eyes closing as you tasted him. Soon, he was panting above you, your hot wet mouth slipping him in and out. It wasn’t as good as your cunt, but he adored seeing you on your knees for him, especially knowing what a prideful person you were, how you could be compared to him in hotheadedness - yet here you were. Happily sucking him off on your knees, and soon you’d be spreading your legs and begging him to be inside you.

Moaning loudly, he held the back of your head and sunk deeper into your mouth, tip reaching the back of your throat. You smiled, eyes opening and peering up at him. One hand squeezed and rubbed the base of his shaft as the other held his package in your hand. He was heavy and full, further proof he hadn’t touched himself in some time.

Wiggling in your spot, you pulled back, popping him from your mouth as you licked along his shaft. He leaned forward, bracing one palm against the wall of the shack as the other held your hair. He watched as you licked all around his cock, hand tracing his veins as you made your way to the base of him. Nuzzling his dark bush, you met his eyes once more, dipping lower to kiss and lick his package.

Hotaru moaned, letting his head fall back and his eye close, basking in the feeling of you lavishing him with your mouth. You hummed, laughing softly before licking and sucking on his tight bundle. Kissing him all over, you slipped to the other side before repeating yourself.

Your hands didn’t stop, massaging where your mouth wasn’t and gently jerking him off. You whispered his name softly, listening as he moaned in response. Lips curling into a broad grin, you left his package and went back to swallowing his cock. He moaned louder, hand twisting in his hair as you slipped him nearly all the way into your throat.

He gave you time to adjust to him, knowing it had been some time since you’d last had him in your mouth. Panting as you worked him deeper, he moaned as you whined around him, gagging softly. Your wide eyes watched him as you continued to suck him off, head bobbing as you relaxed your throat and took him all. Hotaru moaned loudly as he bottomed out in your mouth. Soft package against your jaw.

He watched you as he tugged your hair, pulling free from your mouth before holding you still and pressing back inside. You moaned loudly, eyes rolling slightly before he repeated himself. Seeing as you moaned and grabbed his thighs, not fighting back against him, he took control, hands holding the back of your head as he began to fuck your face.

Panting, he quickly became a moaning mess, cock slipping down your throat with each thrust. You gagged and drooled around him, muffled sounds echoing around his shaft as he fucked you fast. Your nails bit into his skin as you cried out around him, hips wiggling as you sat on your legs on the bedding.

Hotaru grit his teeth, hissing as he felt his climax coming. Gasping for air, he cried out as he bent forward a bit, hands pressing against the base of your head, tilting you up slightly. You moaned loudly, the wet sounds of him fucking your mouth mixing in with your own pleasured noises. “Fuck!” His voice was rough, pulling your hair as he tossed his head back.

You whimpered, nails scratching him as he pounded your throat. With another loud shout, he finished inside, filling your mouth and throat with hot cum. You moaned longingly, tears slipping past your lashes and gasping for air through your nose.

Hotaru panted above you, his hips moving much slower as your tongue pushed against his shaft and licked up all the cum around him. Hissing as you slowly began to overstimulate him, he held your hair and pulled himself from your mouth, gasping as he was freed and letting his head fall back once more.

You coughed softly, rasping breaths leaving your shining lips before you wiped your mouth. Looking up at him, you hummed softly until he met your gaze. “Is that all my sweet husband wants?” You licked your lips, giggling as he glared at you.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” You squealed as he kneeled down, twisting your hair in his fist before he leaned down and bit your neck. You cried out as he moved his mouth over you, biting, kissing, and sucking your skin. “If you think that’s enough to make it up to me, you’re more deluded than I thought.”

You gasped, slapping his back before moaning as he slipped his hand between your legs. “H-Hotaru~”

Letting him readjust you, you sighed as you soon found yourself on your back. Easily, your husband stripped you down, repeating your earlier actions with just as much love and kindness. You writhed subtly, excited to see how he would take you. “Remember to be careful of your wounds, okay?”

He huffed as he slid between your soft thighs, immediately grabbing your legs and spreading them wide apart. You squealed, covering your face as he exposed you. Smirking at your sudden bashfulness, he brought you closer to him. Hotaru couldn’t help but sigh at the intense heat radiating off your wonderfully soaked cunt.

Whining, you wiggled your hips, peeking at him through your fingers. When he didn’t move, you pouted, folding your arms under your chest and making your breasts bounce. “‘Taru!” He raised a brow, looking down at you as his cock rested against your slit.

You whined louder, trying to wrap your legs around his waist but his hands wouldn’t budge from their tight grip on your ankles. “Beg for it.”

His low gravelly tone had you moaning. “Please, Hotaru, please! I want you inside me, want you to fill me up and make love to me! Please, please, ‘Taru!”

He blushed suddenly, your sweet desperate voice echoing in his head. Sighing before smiling softly, he moved his hands to hold your thighs and slip them around his waist. Guiding his cock to your soaked cunt, he whispered gently to you, “I’ll make love to you as much as you want, my perfect wife.”

You sighed as he slipped inside you, arching your back and hands grabbing the soft bedding on either side of your head. “Hotaru~ You feel so amazing! I’ve missed you so much, you belong inside me.” Your flushed cheeks were hot as he rocked his hips gently into yours. Bracing his hands on either side of your head, holding your gaze as his hair tumbled down on either side of you, he began a gentle pace.

His cock barely left you before sinking inside you once again, listening as you sighed and moaned. Watching your chest instead, he picked up speed, watching as you bounced and cried out for him. He panted above you, stamina still not quite rebuilt but loving how it felt to press his hips against yours.

As he continued to fuck you, his mind wandered to all the nights he had spent along here in his workshop while you were all alone in your shared bed at home. Growling to himself, his eye flicked up to your expression. He moaned as you were smiling, biting your lip and crying out as he quickly fucked you. “Hotaru! Y-You feel so good, please don’t stop! Don’t ever stop- ahh!”

He groaned lowly, hand gripping one of your thighs and moving so it was pressed to his chest. Choking out a moan, he felt himself slip deeper inside you. You must not have been touching yourself on your own considering how tight your cunt was wrapped around him. Sweat gathered on his brow as he bucked his hips against you. “Fuck!”

Your heat was overwhelming, possessing every thought in his head as he forced himself deeper and deeper inside. with a harsh grunt, he grabbed your other thigh, pressing both to his chest as he leaned down close over you, folding you closer to yourself as he pressed deep inside you. “‘Taru! Fuck- ahh~ please!”

Dragging your nails down his back, he moaned lasciviously. He loved when you left marks on him, it made him want to expose his upper half more often, to show off the love marks his beautiful wife left on him for other smiths to see when they visited him as he was working. He loved how they became flustered or jealous, and it fueled his obsession with you. He loved knowing you marked him up and everyone else knowing that as well.

He cried out as you squeezed around him, “Fuck! I-I’m close-” His voice was strained, and he watched as you looked up at him adoringly, cheeks and body hot as you panted under him. You bounced with each powerful thrust, small moans leaving you every time. Squeezing his eye shut, his fingers twisted in the sheets, “C-Can’t-” He gasped for air, trying to hold back so you could finish before him.

Feeling your hands tangled up in his hair, he moaned as you pulled it, amber gaze meeting your own lustful eyes. “Want you to- ahh! Want your cum, fuck! Finish in-inside me, please ‘Taru! Fill me up, want it all, ahh~” Your wanton moans stoked the fire deep inside his belly, shoulders straining as he felt his climax approach.

With a loud moan, he burst inside you, hot cum filling you up. He continued his pace, thick cock stretching you out. He loved how he could feel how much hotter it made your messy cunt, your hips folded upwards so not a bit could escape. Slowing down to just rocking his hips against you, he moaned as you whimpered beneath him.

Your face was pinched, gasping and whimpering. “T-Touch me, please, ahh!” He quickly let one hand slip down between you, harsh rough callused fingers rubbing your warm silky clit.

Back arching, you pressed your hips tighter against his as he shuddered. Rubbing you harsh and fast, he whimpered and moaned as you clenched down around him, “Gonna cum! ‘Taru, fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t st- ahhh~” Your voice surrounded him, his hand faltering for only a moment before continued to rub you.

Changing between tight circles and pinching your clit, you bucked against him, whipping your head into the sheets, crying out his name loudly. He was sure if there was anyone remotely nearby, they’d be able to hear you. “Hotaru! Hotaru! Fuck!” Ripping the sheets in your hands, you finished on his semi hard cock.

Your husband cried out, shoving his fingers against your clit roughly, feeling himself be milked of the last bit of cum he still had. Bucking his hips, he whimpered as you squeezed him in a vice, hot wet cunt tighter around him than you had ever been. He gasped as he felt himself being easily overstimulated, especially considering you had sucked his soul from his cock earlier.

You panted as you came back down from your high, unfocused and bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling of the building as Hotaru slowly unwound your legs from his body. He swallowed thickly, throat dry as he finally laid you flat. Shuffling to the water jug he had in the shack, he poured some into the empty teapot, praying you had only drugged his cup and not the pot itself.

Crawling back towards you, he laid heavily at your side, propping you up slightly to pour water into your mouth. He watched as you drank slowly, pulling it away as you waved a hand to show you were done. Drinking some as well, he set it down carefully before dropping down next to you.

He dragged your body close to his, tangling the two of you up. His thoughts were blissfully empty as he hugged you tight. The only thing that mattered in that moment was that you were in his arms and happy. Kissing your crown, his gruff voice echoed in your empty head, “I love you. More than you’ll ever know.”

Watching as you passed out, he let his eyes close as well, the warm night air surrounding your heated bodies. Feeling the previous weeks of nonstop work and fatigue catch up to him, he let himself fall asleep as well. Perhaps when you both woke back up, and praying he wasn’t tied up once more, the both of you could soak in the hot springs.

[meluiloth]

I saw your post regarding Silvan Elves and Mirkwood. Curious as to your thoughts on where most reside, rest their heads...Do they have a place within the Elvenking's Halls or do they mostly conduct themselves outside of the Halls? I have opinions but am curious to see what others think. TY!!

This is a really great question!

During the Third Age, when the Necromancer became a prime threat and the Silvan Elves were forced to move northward, the Elvenking Thranduil built his Kingdom in the Mountains of Mirkwood. This provided a lot more stability and relief for the Elves, since this was the last pocket of Mirkwood that no evil could—or would—breach. Since they had the protection of the mountain, and the acceptance that they wouldn't be able to rebuild their old homes in the South, the Elves poured their entire concentration into making the mountain as beautiful a home as they could. Despite being underground, the halls are luxurious and filled with trees to remind those who dwell within of the forest outside, and there are plenty of places for feasting and celebration. Interiors are beautifully furnished.

That being said, I don't believe that all of the Silvan Elves live in the subterranean halls—their hearts still love the forest above all, and many of them still remember the beauty of their former homes. These Elves choose to build a community outside of the mountain, still within a concentrated safe area within the borders of the Elvenking's Halls, but in areas that are still wholly woods. These dwellings are constructed high in the trees, to protect from Spider ambushes, Orc attacks, and whatever other evil creatures that would seek to harm the Elves. They are sturdy, but elegant, and also incredibly well-hidden. These houses act both as homes and watchtowers.

These two districts—the Halls of the Elvenking and the last Woodland City—are not quite two separate entities, but rather a tightly-woven community. The bridge between the mountain city and the forest one is well-trodden, since the Elves love to connect with both regions for both the scenery, people, vendors, and resources. As Thranduil and his house dwells in the mountain halls, most of the official business is conducted there, but in peaceful days, many of the celebrations are held in the forest, where the Elves can be more connected to the beating heart of Mirkwood.

In times of peace, this allows for the exchange of trade, knowledge, and communal festivities. But during times of conflict, these two communities serve a more strategic purpose: the sentinels of the Woodland City would be able to see danger before it attacks, and if it is too great, all the Elves would retreat to the Halls of the Elvenking for protection.

So, to answer your question, the population of Silvan Elves is pretty much evenly split between the Halls of the Elvenking and the city on the borders of the forest, but they are still one tightly-woven community!

If you're interested in my imagining of the Silvan Elves in Mirkwood, check out my mirkwood headcanons tag! If there's a headcanon you want me to explore that I haven't already, my ask box is open!

[fourseasonsfigs]

Taolin Forest Wen Kexing (Handcrafted)

This beautiful figure showed up on the artist's Xianyu page as an immediately available in-stock piece, and I pounced on it. You can tell by my profile pic how much I like this costume, after all!

The artist works in ultralight clay, which has been a new medium to me, and so far I've been impressed. It is very light (as the name suggests!) and appears to be extremely flexible. I was initially very worried about her figures breaking in transport, as they all have very delicate thin little details, but everything seems surprisingly sturdy. It bends, but doesn't deform, and doesn't seem to break with careful treatment. I do baby my figs, but shipping / customs is always a wild card.

For something like this, I would normally absolutely air column wrap it to protect it from crushing damage. I don't worry about the fig breaking parts off - I worry about it getting squished! If this fig got crushed it would certainly destroy it, given all the thin, flat loops of clay making up most of this figure.

But, I didn't have to, because the artist packed it in a rigid styrofoam cooler box. This is of course deadly on the shipping fees, especially since my warehouse flags the wooden base as air freight only. But, the only thing worse than paying volumetric air freight charges is getting a crushed figure, so what can you do?

I too am deeply disappointed by my lack of quality unboxing photos. Why did I not remove this top layer of bubble wrap? NOBODY KNOWS.

This is an extremely tall figure, by far my largest figure by a wide margin. The full size, including base, is 27 cm, of which 2cm is the base. This makes the figure itself about 10 inches high for us Americans.

The fan is not clay but paper, which was a nice surprise. I would have been fine either way, but I like the paper. I'm also very appreciative that the artist included it in this rigid plastic box so keep it from getting squished inside the protective cooler. Box. Protective box.

Here he is without the fan. He's gorgeous! You can really see the detail on his belt and his long, elegant fingers.

In fact, here's a closeup of those hands and the beautiful detail on the belt. His fingers may look even a bit longer than you might expect, but that's because they need to hold the fan. You can even see the slight indent for the fingernails. This artist is just amazing. She says she puts her whole heart into crafting these figures, and you can tell.

Holding the fan as so. If you don't think I wasn't a little stressed out carefully wedging the fan in between those beautiful fingers, you have somehow (incredibly) missed all the other cases of my fig related anxiety on this blog. I'm not even a high stress person! Normally.

Alright, let's spin this beauty around, shall we?

My camera decided to focus on many things, but Wen Kexing's perfect face was not always one of them. So we'll get some closeups. But first, let's do our bottoms-up and top-down pics:

Please do note the beauty mark on the middle finger of his right hand!

For size comparison, here's Wen Kexing with his OG official fig counterpart:

You can definitely see what I mean by how big this fig is! Maybe I should call it a statue instead of a fig.

Alright, time for our close ups.

Just beautiful. I'll need to commission a matching A-Xu in the Taolin forest costume so I can have them heading off to Siji Manor.

This figure was an incredible price - less than $50 USD. An absolute bargain. I can't even imagine the time that went into this. This was less expensive than other individual figures or pairs of this size, so perhaps I just got lucky with the artist clearing space.

I had really wanted semi-realistic figures like this when Word of Honor was released and I watched it for the first time, so getting this now makes me really happy. The artist also had a snowy mountain set that I picked up around the same time, which should be arriving here relatively shortly. Please look forward to it! I can't wait myself.

Material: Ultra-light clay

Fig Count: 386

Scene Count: 26

Rating: Pure artistry

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[itty-bitty-writes]

The Shrinkie Sex Club Part 2: Giants

[part 1: Intro]

Logan considers his options. “Giants,” he decides. “I think I would like my initial experience with this fascination of yours to not also include a drastic physical change.”

Remus laughs, leading him down the hallway to the giant side. “That's fair,” he says. “I still hope to talk you into shrinking with me today.”

“We'll see,” Logan says, a smile playing across his lips.

“So, you got any ideas on what you wanna try first?” Remus asks as they reach a large room. There are a few other people present, but it's nowhere near crowded, and the present occupants hardly acknowledge Remus and Logan's presence, much more interested in their current intimate activities.

The room is dotted with several waist high plinths, each of which supports a rectangular box. Roughly half of the boxes have holes in the sides, and the other half have open tops. A man stands near one of these, looking contemplatively into it, his hand hovering over the opening as he decides.

There are benches scattered around the room, some next to the plinths and some separate, and more benches ringing the walls. There are also curtained doorways leading off into what Logan assumes are private rooms. There's a colorful infographic on the wall, but they're too far away to read the words.

“I don’t know,” Logan says in answer to Remus's question. “I haven't considered it in detail yet.”

“Do you want to let the tinies pick?” Remus suggests. “I was gonna say we should grab a couple out of the free use boxes to play with, but we could do the glory holes instead.”

“The what?”

Remus grins. “Yeah, you know, you stick your dick in a hole in the wall”— he gestures at the several boxes with holes in their sides, into one of which someone indeed has stuck their dick—“and do a sex with a random person on the other side. Same as a normal glory hole, except here the other people are only as big as your dick, max, and sometimes there are several of them!”

“I see.”

“You can also give them your ass,” Remus continues, “but it's a bit awkward to get the position right, and you won't always get a taker.”

Logan nods. “And the… ‘free use’?”

“Over here.” Remus leads him to one of the open-topped boxes. Looking inside, Logan sees a miniature room with a tiled floor. Inside that room are several people who can't be more than a few inches tall, mingling as casually as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

Logan's never actually seen shrunken people before, and for a few moments he just stares. They're incredible, human beings in perfect miniature. They look incredibly delicate, though he knows from his research that they are actually absurdly sturdy. Something about the shrinking process making them more compact. It wasn't his field of expertise, and he'd been more focused on other particulars.

“The hats are color coded by what they're into,” Remus explains, and Logan notes that every tiny person in the box-room is fully nude except for what appears to be colorful swim caps. “So you just pick out some that look interesting, and then you can do whatever.”

“I see,” Logan says.

“These guys are the mediums,” Remus adds, and points to another box. “There's larges over there, and itties, there. The glory holes are sorted by size too, so even if you wanna let the tinies pick what you do with them you're gonna have to pick what size to start with, and if you want to mix and match you gotta pull from multiple boxes.”

“Is there a best size?”

“That depends entirely on what you want to do with them!” Remus says cheerfully. “Itties aren't great for anal, cause you can barely feel them, but they are amazing going down the inside of your dick, and the others aren't gonna fit in there. But don't let me tell you what's best. You should experiment and draw your own conclusions.”

“Very well,” Logan says. “In that case, I want to start with…”

[epithet-beloved]

Hello, me again!!

I was just busy doing homework when I started thinking about epithet characters (who am I kidding, I think about them all the time LMAO). And then Sheriff Gorou just popped up in my head and then WOAH BIG BRAIN MOMENT!! What if he was friends with a prisoner reader? They can eat donuts and drink pinecones together :)

Hope you all have a great day/evening!!

-Ryan

HANGING OUT

synopsis… hanging out with sheriff gorou

ft. sheriff gorou

tags… platonic, fluff, nothing much happens you just hang out

word count… 662

a/n… I LIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FOR A LITTLE BIT. BEEN INCREDIBLY BUSY WITH ASSIGNMENTS BUT IPAD IS OUT OF BATTERY RIGHT NOW SO I'M WRITING THIS WHILE IT RECHARGES. ENJOY THE GOOFY ✧ 🦇

“So, how do you drink these?”

“I don’t know! But it’s the only drink we have here in Redwood Run!”

“... And the well?”

“Oh! It’s completely dry!”

Sheriff Gorou’s hearty laugh echoed in the small cabin he had made his headquarters in the city in the middle of the woods. You stood behind some not-very-sturdy metal bars with a pinecone in your hands, a straw had been jammed in the thing. Gorou had brought it for you from the tavern when you had asked him to bring you a drink to share. He had a pinecone of his own, and he was unsuccessfully trying to try from the straw stuck in it.

You watched him with an amused smile from your spot in the cabin, jumping slightly when he handed you a donut from the box that rested on his desk.

“Here!” He stated with an enthusiastic tone, “Can’t have a drink without a snack!” He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a small, amused giggle as you took the sweet treat from his hands, “Why thank you.”

Somehow, Gorou managed to have a box of fresh donuts on his desk every morning. You weren’t quite sure where they came from, as the old man from the tavern didn’t seem like someone who’d take interest in baking, and Redwood Run didn’t quite have a bakery. You wondered if he had lied to you about his epithet (that, of course, he had told you about straight away), and it was actually “Donut” instead of “Bluster”, and it let him have a fresh box of the things every morning. They were incredibly tasty and somehow still a bit warm- but this wasn’t surprising, despite being in the middle of the woods, the clearing Redwood Run found itself in was often subject to the light of the high sun, making everything in the small city and its houses warm. It was like the city was stuck at the high noon of a western movie.

And if that was the aesthetic it was going for, Sheriff Gorou stuck out like a sore thumb, with his bright ginger hair and beard, the latter adorned with all sorts of sprinkles, and his happy go lucky attitude; everyone in the city was a criminal, after all! Even you! Why do you think you were hanging out in the sheriff’s cabin, behind the bars of the only cell in the entire town? He didn’t even catch you himself- you turned yourself in! You just felt a little bad that he never seemed to be able to do his job right.

But life in that single cell ended up not being so bad.

Gorou was a nice guy to be around, and you never got bored hearing his repeated stories or watching him gift guns to whoever stepped inside the cabin, even if they did so by accident.

“That guy over there seems new,” You commented after taking a bite of your donut and gesturing to someone outside with a nod. Gorou turned in the direction you pointed to, and he noticed a Banzai Blaster that seemed to be quite lost.

“He does!” He commented,

“Do you think I should go give him a gun? As a welcome gift?”

“Nah, I wanna see how long he goes without one. Also, he didn’t come in here.”

“Hmm… You’re right!”

Gorou shrugged and smiled as he leaned back in his chair, trying to prop his feet up on the desk, but failing and almost falling backwards. You couldn’t help but snicker as he regained his balance and composure, his cheeks red from embarrassment for almost falling like that in front of you.

“Aw, come on,” You cooed with a smile “You’ll be able to do it someday. I believe in ya, sheriff.”

Gorou gained his big smile again, his round cheeks peeking from under his beard.

“Why thank ya! You’re the nicest inmate I’ve ever had! And the only one!”

[snkts]

A long wooden case with no return address is left for Logan to find. The hinges are brass, the edges worn with age. Inside lay several polished blades, nestled in carefully so as not to rattle around. The assortment is made up of a shortsword and matching daggers, and then the reason for the case being the length it is: a spear, tipped in bronze. 

Bronze in color, at least. Closer inspection will reveal its nature as adamantine.

As adamantine comes from only one source, the gift giver is painfully obvious. The note tucked under the shortsword indicates that Hercules — the obvious sender — had intended it to be a show of good faith and an apology for years of bad behavior and embarrassment. Extra blades to use as protection in dire straits, a show of friendship.

The timing being on Logan's birthday might have been intentional, though there's no indication of a happy birthday anywhere — only a wish for good health and good luck on the back of the note. 

It’s been moved to his door when he gets home. It’s just sitting there. He stops mid-stride and tilts his head. What is that…? He scents the air once, twice. Then he freezes. There’s no way. 

There’s no fucking way. 

Logan knows that scent. It’s from a series of memories he only just got back - thanks to Charles and, regrettably, Wanda. It was strange and familiar at the same time. Yeah, he remembered that scent - he just never thought he’d smell it again. He shouldn’t be smelling it again. It had been so long… He lifts the box in his arms. It’s heavy, and he can hear metal - solid metal - shifting softly inside; anyone else would’ve missed it. Whoever left this here took great pains to make sure it was well-packed. The box itself is probably worth a good chunk of change - it’s old and sturdy and well-made. He kicks his door closed behind him and sets the box in front of his bed. He stares at it for a moment longer. It’s definitely from Herc. Aside from the smell, it’s exactly the sort of thing he would drop off - and not many people would be able to lift this damn thing to drop it anywhere. Logan pops the latch and swings the lid open. He can’t help but smile. 

“That old bastard.” He chuckles to himself. Yeah, only him. Logan pulls the shortsword out first, and gives it a few experimental swings. It’s well-balanced, sharp enough that the air whistles around the blade, and gleams even in the low sunlight coming through the balcony doors. Logan runs the edge along his palm and even with no pressure, the skin splits, bleeds, heals. Logan lets out a low whistle. This was a real beauty. Couldn’t find anything like that at your run-of-the-mill black market. (And he should know - he’d looked.) 

Setting that down on the bed, Logan turns to the daggers. Another show of master craftsmanship. He twirled them in his hands, admiring the way the cool metal glided against the callouses of his palms. He catches them in a reverse grip and runs through a quick drill, slashing and blocking and manoeuvring around an invisible opponent. These are also incredible - but not quite so eye-catching as the last item in the box. He sets the daggers aside and finally pulls out that beautiful goddamn spear. This, he grins at, wide and toothy, like a kid on Christmas. 

“Hello, gorgeous.” He coos. He twirls it slowly in his hands, pondering… Then he opens his balcony doors, cocked his arm back, and threw the spear with a grunt. It cracked into the trunk of a tree loud enough that it mimicked thunder and earned a series of shrieks from some nearby students. He swung over his balcony and dropped onto the grass.

“Logan!” The kids protest. He rolls his eyes as he walks towards the ruined tree.

“Relax. I wasn’t gonna hit ya’.” He says. He grips the spear with one hand, braces his foot on the trunk, and pulls, retrieving his prize before he turns to scale the wall and go back to his room. It’s only when he goes to put the spear back that he spots the note - it must’ve fallen out when he was playing around with the weapons. Huh. Logan stoops to pick the note up, holding it between two fingers as he reads. He hums, then glances over to the weapons and huffs a laugh. 

“Dunno what’cha think you did,” he says to the empty room, propping the spear over his shoulder, “but you’re alright in my books.”

[dcggersedge]

It hadn't been too hard to find the other woman—considering she was an instructor and all. Teaching... honestly, it wasn't the sort of job Etie ever expected Yunaka to take up, but she had to admit stability and groundedness did look good on her.

Especially with the hardships her past seemed to have held.

"Etie, busting in! And I have a special delivery." Etie calls out as she enters the Lions' classroom, a pink cake box held in her arms, wrapped with a white ribbon, and topped with a bouquet of flowers. "From my hometown, to you."

First, she offers the bouquet. "Marigolds, cultivated in my hometown. They just reminded me of you, you know? Joyful, strong... you're one of my biggest inspirations in that regard, and I wanted to represent it through this. Next is... um, hold on—"

With the bouquet out of her arms, Etie offers the pink box next. "Ta-da! You can open it whenever you feel like, but I hope you like peach! ...And cake. Peach cake. Hope you like it."

The archer chuckles, somewhat sheepishly. "I had some peaches sent in from my village too, and used them to bake this for you. It's always been one of my favorite pieces of home. I feel calm whenever I have some, and I wanted to share it with you."

She smiles, "Happy birthday, Yunaka."

"All the way from home?" Yunaka repeats. Etie's not very subtle outside of combat. Yunaka heard her approaching long before she arrived, and simply raised her head to smile at her when she came parading into the classroom. "Like, across the ocean and everything? And it's still fresh? Wow..." The flowers were just as sturdy as the people she met from Firene...

Her casual tone goes directly against the excitement already bubbling in her. Gifts! For her! Twice in one day! Her fingers drum rapidly against the top of her desk until she holds her hands out to take things from Etie.

The bouquet is expected, especially after Alfred also brought her one. It's also incredibly welcomed, as sniffing the flowers makes a perfectly good excuse to hide her face as Etie starts explaining why she picked them. "Aw, I'm sure you could find plenty of people who are stronger than me..." And better people, more suited to being an inspiration than her... She hopes her face is a little less red when she pulls it out of the flowers again. "Thanks though...seriously, that's so sweet of you."

And homemade peach cake. She'd have matching stars in her eyes if she could. "Uh, I only like it a whole freaking lot. And you made it? That's amazing, Etie!" She didn't even need to see it to know that she'd done a good job.

Yunaka tucks the bouquet into the crook of her elbow as she stands. Rather than taking the box, she places her hands over Etie's to keep her from leaving. "I hope by share it with me, you meant share it with me right now. As completely and totally delish as it sounds, I think I'd like it a lot better with good company. We can even get some of those fancy Fódlan teas and see how they compare to the stuff you guys make, yeah?"

Happy birthday Yunaka. She laughs quietly to herself. "Oh, you're smart. Alfred got me some flowers too, but he didn't tell me what they meant. Could you tell me? Hang on, I wrote them down somewhere..."