#but anyways lots of love to you anon! thank you much for the prompt!

[skeletalheartattack]

hi I like gelato a lot

[heyitslapis]

🌹🌹🌹 do three roses get three sentences 👀

Of course, anything for you, nonny 💙

Abby followed suit behind Ellie, standing in the kitchen doorway just in time to see the exasperated look on Dina’s face as she let out the world’s most dramatic sigh.

---

The wildest thing Emma ever did was one night a few months ago when she got really drunk and made out with Apatite in the bathroom, but that was a one-off thing and the morning after it seemed that Emerald didn’t remember the events of the evening.

---

Even if it was a mistake to come here and Emma really didn't want anything to do with her anymore, Apatite needed just one question answered.

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing

[always-just-red]

I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you��ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.  

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

[crheativity]

Hello! Mind if I send in a request? How about some headcanons for the reader making cute little plushies for the overblot squad?

SUMMARY: You decide to make plushies for the overblot squad. How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: ANON I want you to know that this prompt randomly smacked me over the head at like 10 pm a couple nights ago and I have not been able to get it out since even though I haven’t been able to write until now. I hope you enjoy it!!

Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

Riddle absolutely loves it, please don’t mistake his silence for displeasure. He thinks it is skilfully made and quite adorable, really! He’s just… a little concerned. Does making a plush toy of the Queen herself count as sacrilege…? He’s racking his brains for any rule or law that would prohibit this adorable little toy’s existence, yet none come to mind. Does that mean he gets to keep it…? He really hopes so.

After a few days of diligent research into the matter, he determines that keeping such a cute thing is not against the law, and is overjoyed to find that he gets to keep it. After some deliberation, he decides to leave it on his desk - out of view from Cater, who would almost certainly want to take some “cammable pics” for Magicam. This way, the toy can sit on his desk and remind him of his studies… and also of you. Almost every time he sits down, he finds his eyes wandering to it and can’t help but smile.

Heh, this is kinda cute. He doesn’t mind the plushy at first - it’s cute, but he finds the expression on your face as you give it to him much cuter. Of course he’ll keep it - it’s soft and squishy enough to be a pillow, so he’s eager to try it. Especially if it means skipping class.

As he attempts to fall asleep next to said plushy, however, he realises something - the plushy smells like you. He’s a beastman, with a heightened sense of smell. Even if the plushy doesn’t smell at all, it still smells of you. As a result of this realisation, the plushy now lives on his bed. He begins to find it frustrating to sleep without it, although he’d never be caught dead sleeping in the grounds with it. You’ll just have to replace it then instead.

(Ruggie has so many blackmail photos of Leona sleeping with the toy prepared just in case)

Prefect, this is magnificent! Imagine the money you could make off of these! Hm? What do you mean they aren’t for sale-? It’s just for him…? Oh. Give him a moment, his brain just crashed. He doesn’t quite know how to respond. He loves it, and he loves you even more, but that doesn’t mean his brain is capable of forming a response, especially when you give him a big smile. Give the poor guy a minute.

He leaves it on his bed. This man definitely cuddles it while he sleeps. He gets easily distressed when it isn’t there. After a rough day at work or school, he’ll talk quietly to the plush until he feels better. If worse comes to worst, he’ll hug the toy and cry as he needs to. He loves it so much. It’s almost a new friend to him - something he finds great comfort in.

(The Tweels are no longer allowed in his room. When they inevitably come in anyway, he swears them to secrecy.)

Is that the Sorcerer of the Sands… as a plushy? For him? Thank you, Prefect. Jamil doesn’t have a whole lot of plushies - he never particularly saw the point. But he’s absolutely charmed by this one — and by you. And the fact that it’s the Sorcerer of the Sands? You definitely knew him well. He’s smiling and shaking his head as he takes the plushy. You’re so cute, it’s so endearing.

At first, Jamil isn’t quite sure what to do with it. He can’t quite sleep if it’s on his bed - it reminds him of you too strongly - so he settles with leaving it on his desk. Occasionally, in his rare free time, he’ll sit at his desk and play with it, like a grown adult finding a lost but treasured toy again. It always reminds him of you. When life calls him back, he’ll set the plushy aside for now and get to work. It will be waiting for him.

Just like you, he hopes.

Prefect! He didn’t know you could sew. It looks amazing! It’s for him? You’re very sweet, he’s very in love. He loves the plush toy so much, no matter if it has any imperfections. It was made by you, of someone he looks up to, for him. He hates to sound like Rook, but to him, that makes it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He’s so proud of you. Vil is taking that plush EVERYWHERE. It’s always in his bag no matter where he’s going. Anytime someone questions it, he shuts them down immediately. No one will dare slander something that his beloved made for him. In fact, he uses every opportunity to sneak the plush into photos for Magicam. Whether he’s holding it, it’s nearby or in the background, it’s always there. People start looking for it in all of his pictures.

If you’re okay with the plush being online, that is.

If you’d rather it stay private, he’d kiss your forehead or hand and tell you he understands. The plush toy then stays in his room, on his vanity table. Looking at it makes him feel like a teenage schoolgirl. He supposes it’s alright to indulge in such silliness occasionally, hm?

Wow, you made him a marketable plushy? Of one of the Great Seven? He wasn’t expecting you to have such a normie hobby. Oh, but that’s not a bad thing. He’s extremely grateful, but extremely awkward - does this mean he has to get you something now? What kinda thing would you like? Ah, wait, was that not the appropriate thing to say? Ortho’s giving him the “shut up and be polite” look.

Please don’t be offended if it seems like he doesn’t like it when he receives it. He actually really, really does. He decides to make it his new “gaming buddy”, making him a little custom headset and fake controller and sitting it next to him while he games. He’s stunned to silence when the lil guy’s presence improves his gacha rolls by, like, a LOT. He was already taking pretty good care of it, but now he’s being WAY more careful with it.

Occasionally, Ortho will catch him talking to it. Idia genuinely loves the plushy - and you - a lot. Even if Idia doesn’t quite know how to show it, Ortho does - by recording Idia’s conversations with the toy and showing them to you. Idia is mortified.

Oh? My child of man made me this… adorable plushy? My, how generous of you. He’s absolutely in love. If you thought he was attached to his tamagotchi, just wait and see. Malleus is NEVER letting the plushy leave his presence. Lilia had to take it away to clean it once and it stormed for a week. He loves it so much - and you so much more.

He absolutely treats the plushy as a human, and asks the others to do the same. Occasionally, he (or rather, Lilia using his phone to assist him) will send you a photo of him and the plushy doing something together, such as having a tea party or a picnic. Almost always with the caption, “Dear Prefect, would you care to join us? Kind regards, Malleus.”

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[lyneira]

Hi! May I please request headcanons for how the Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami would react to his gn crush kissing him because they're so in love with him? Thank you!

Headcanons of Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami's reactions after their s/o kisses them passionately out of nowhere

Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami (separately) x reader

fluff with some spice!

a/n: I changed the prompt a bit in which the reader is already in an established relationship with the characters rather than being their crush. I misread your ask the first time I read it and only understood what you meant when I had finally finished writing. So sorry anon, I hope this is okay anyway! 😭

TOJI

He'd chuckle, "Well, aren't you such a sweetheart?", before grabbing your chin and kissing you back, full-force.

He'd find it so endearing that you loved him greatly. Surely, he'd show you how much he felt for you as well.

You'll see it in the way his eyes glint dangerously at you, like a predator ready to capture his prey, as he kisses you relentlessly.

You'll hear it in the way he lowly hums with delight into your lips with each kiss.

You'll taste it in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring every part of it before dancing with yours.

You'll feel it in the way his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer to firmly press his body up against yours. You'll feel something in particular begin to press up against you too.

Through all this, Toji would hope that you at least understand one important thing - You can't kiss him without expecting it to get steamy ;)

CHOSO

He's as over the moon for you as you are for him. He'll kiss you back with the same intensity, if not more.

Choso will never hold back in terms of expressing his love for you. So when you openly and freely express your love for him, it brings his heart so much joy that he could cry. (and no doubt he would)

He'd cup your cheeks and smother your face with kisses, each kiss holding tons of affection. (His adoration for you would grow tenfold if you would do the same)

In general, with Choso, once you show him even an ounce of affection, he'll never hesitate to give it back. If you two continue to reciprocate each other's affections, then it'll be a long night of giving each other love and much more~

GOJO

I could imagine he'd grin, "Oh, you're too cute, Y/N. C'mere", and pounce on you with a big kiss.

Sure, he might be used to being fawned over and being the object of others' affection, but he doesn't take any affection from you for granted. You're special to him, after all. He'll love any gesture of affection from you the most and will always show his appreciation for it in fun-loving ways.

So I think he'd be the type to continue kissing you playfully: leaving light kisses on your lips, down your neck, around your collarbone, and maybe even further down, all while keeping his hands on your hips to ensure you're grounded underneath him. His firm grip on your hips was his way of telling you that he isn't letting you go any time soon.

Anyway, you'll end up finding quite a lot of love-bites all over your body, also in the most intimate places, once he's done with you.

NANAMI

He'd probably get caught off guard from the sudden gesture of affection.

Yet, in that moment, he'd feel at peace. Looking at your smiling face full of happiness and seeing your beautiful eyes shine with love and adoration staring back into his own couldn't bring him more joy.

Knowing that there's someone who loves him this much warms his heart and soothes his mind. Especially after a long day from work, he's incredibly grateful that you're the one he can come home to.

He'll wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in closely while keeping his gaze upon you, his eyes so gentle as he admires your visage.

"I love you", he'll whisper with a soft smile before going in for a kiss.

As he kisses you back, you'll feel the passion he has for you in his lips, claiming them over and over again as he embraces you tighter.

Your hearts would be so close to one another's, and each heartbeat would be his vow to protect you, the most precious thing on earth to him, with all his might.

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Don’t know if you take writing prompts so if you don’t feel free to ignore this I have an idea for a dcxdp crossover ghost hunger au ( but only if you want otherwise it’s just Danny being able to eat anything and everything literally )ghost prince Danny au Redeemed Vlad au Vlad x Maddie x jack 

 Halfas were mistaken for a lot of things in mythology and being very rare they were often considered the “special ones” of whatever species they were mistaken for and the last halfa before Vlad was the one that inspired the novel of Dracula Yes there are vampires, but the one from the story of Dracula was not a vampire

Anyway, Danny trying to hide from the GIW decides to lean in on the mistaken identity, and what better city to do that in then Gotham, the one rumored to have monsters already patrolling its streets anyway Danny, gets mistaken for a vampire and Danny decides to roll with it setting up shop in an abandoned cathedral while trying to get the undead of Gotham back into the zone ( Grundy, the talons, Jason, and possibly a few others)

And Vlad occasionally has him going to galas for business (and practice for when Danny is the ghost king ) and of course, Danny continues the vampire act there too tone down, but still enough to give off an otherworldly vibe

I love this idea! I think I've only ever seen one other story about fake vampire Danny.

I'm not really able to write an actual story with world building or anything nice like that (trust me I've tried not pretty🫠😆), my stuff is usually just gibberish that I clean up a bit before posting, so I'm really sorry if you wanted an actual mini story.

~

But I'll try to do a little prompt!

~

Tell Me What I Am

There had been some odd rumors going around Gotham.

Those who were more sensitive said that the dead becoming aware, most didn't pay much truth to all that was being said.

Still everyone was more alert feeling like the entirety of Gotham was in the presence of something Other.

~

Jason didn't enjoy going to the galas when he was young and now as the recent 'No Longer Dead Wayne Child" he was forced to go once again.

He looked around trying to avoid all the rich snobs that were trying to push their daughters practically into his arms

He snorted at his thoughts, "Very much not my type."

Distracted he bumped into someone and oh-speaking of his type.

~

Danny didn't mean to bump into someone especially the guest of honor of the gala but it had been a while since he was able to properly eat something that actual filled him up and not just distracted his mind a bit before it came back,

So forgive him for being distracted and-

oh

oh?

Oh!

"You smell divine" he mumbled in between his suddenly overly sharp teeth

"..Wha-Thanks I guess?"

Danny's foggy mind suddenly snapped back into sharp focus once he felt Vlad call for him.

He quickly fled from the man

' Shit I almost bit him what the hell! '

~

Jason thought back to the night of the gala

"Hey B, do the Masters seem...odd to you?"

Bruce glance up from his work

"Did something happen?"

He thought about the sharp fangs suddenly in the young man's mouth alongside his comment feeling almost like prey under his intense gaze that pinned him in place with the sheer hunger and want in them.

How the older man pulled him away but not before Jason saw his eyes flash red for barely a second.

"....Maybe."

~

Just an Idea

Hope this was to your taste Anon!

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hi! Jumping into your ask box to continue the 'afraid of having sex' series. Still with a female reader and the exact same prompt. But this time, with Usopp & Sabo because they are underrated. And also with Ace, Shanks and Mihawk. We need the whole cast with this headcanon! Ty and anon <3

Oh damn, let's go for a round 3 with some soft/dilf/underated boys! I'm so happy to receive a request with Sabo ♡ And sure, a round 4 with more underrated characters would be funny, especially with Killer & Marco. Anyway, for the moment, let's go for Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk :D Thank you for requesting, I hope the outcome will match your expectations!

☆ Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW (generals): MDNI, smut, v!sex, f!reader, more are listed under each character 

WC : 3K

⇢ You can read the part one here and the part two here 

Usopp 

CW : virgin!Usopp, fingering (reader receiving),  oral sex (reader/Usopp receiving), slight pet name (babe), slight dirty talk, protected sex 

(Aw, poor Usopp is probably really stressed too)

Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Due to his lie about his experience, he would feel extremely anxious. He claimed to have had sex many times, but it was a total lie. He's a virgin. When you confess that you're afraid because it's been a while since your last sex, he's relieved. At least you're nervous together, isn't that nice? Nevertheless, he is also ashamed and embarrassed by his deceit. He wants to be honest like you have been with him! But he's so nervous about your reaction.

"Y/N… I lied… I mean… I may exaggerate a bit my experience…" he would babble, avoiding your gaze. "It's possible that… this actually is my first time..." while fidgeting nervously and sweating wildly.

He's confused when you burst into laughter. "It was quite obvious to me. You're a bad liar." 

Poor Usopp is even more flustered. "Still, you have to make it for your lie." 

Even if you're not mad at him, he's still ashamed and jittery. Maybe as much as you, or even more. His lips would gently touch yours, and his shaky hands would roam all over your body. 

Please, guide this poor boy. Tell him how to pleasure you. 

His hands would be a bit butterfingered while circling your clit or fondling your breasts. Luckily, he cares about your needs and has a creative mind, so he would be pretty good at figuring out how your body works. 

Eager boy. He would stare intently at your pussy, astonished by its increasing wetness. He would never be satisfied. The way you squirm, moan and clench around his fingers is mesmerizing. 

"Babe, you're so wet down there. Love how you clench around me. Please do the same for my cock." 

And if you decide to go down on him… damn, Usopp would just turn into a whimpering, whiny mess. Would probably cum because he can't handle how good your mouth feels around his member.

Poor boy would be so embarrassed to cum that fast.

He would make an effort to repay the favor. But finding the right angle with his long nose is quite a challenge. "Ouch, my nose" all the two seconds. 

Again, eager boy. He would remain between your legs throughout the entire day and still crave more. Your pussy tastes and feels so good for his sanity. Please keep moaning his name, it's music to his ears. And if you pull on his hair, burying his head against your folds, he's in heaven. 

He's a conscientious boy, so he would wear a condom, use lube, and make sure you're relaxed enough. 

He would try to be as close to you as possible while slowly burying himself within you. Your walls stretching around his thick girth would be so captivating for him. 

"You're alright? Can I keep going?" 

A lot of shudders, shaky hands on your hips while he slowly starts to thrust into your tightness. "Babe, you feel so good clenching around me…" 

He would absolutely love to watch his cock covered with your wetness sliding in and out of you.

Wouldn't last that long because it's so overwhelming for him. But damn, he's so eager to make you squirm and moan all night (and all the next day...) He's already addicted to your body.

Sabo

CW : Dirty talk, fingering and oral sex (reader receiving), mention of choking, mention of spanking, slight teasing, protected sex, slight praises, slight pet name (sweetie)

Sabo is probably a very kinky boy. Pretty sure he would enjoy wrapping his claws around your neck and choking you. Or to make you wear his hat while you ride him. Or use his gloves to spank you, or... yeah, the list is endless. However, his soul is also kind and compassionate. He's a revolutionary, a big brother, and a protective person who craves freedom and justice. So if you're afraid because it's been a long time or nervous about getting hurt, he would be really nice to you.

"Sure sweetie, we'll take it slow." with a big, reassuring smile. 

Again, revolutionary boy. He would ensure that you are comfortable with each action and constantly verify your consent. "You're alright?" , "Can I touch you there?", "Can I keep going?"

"You're so beautiful" while looking at your naked body, covering it with a lot of sweet kisses along your collarbone, neck, breasts and lower stomach. He would be delighted to stroke your breasts for hours, as they feel so warm and soft in his hands. 

"Can I take them off?" While reaching for your panties.

Upon your nod, he would pull your panties down your legs with his teeth. Just to tease you. He would look at you, leaving a kiss on your inner thighs. He's good  (and a god) when it comes to anticipation. 

"You look so pretty for me. Want me to go down on you?" 

He would gently massage your legs with his thumbs, circling your inner thighs as you nod. The more you shiver and squirm in need, the more he feels satisfied with himself. "Need me so bad, Y/N?" 

Once more, kinky boy. He would love to spread your legs wide open to get a better look at your pussy clenching around nothing. Before finally going down on you. And damn, Sabo is a god when it comes to eating you out. He's really attentive to your needs and always cares about your reactions. He will follow your leads if you guide him or tell him what you like. Please, bury his head against your wet folds. He likes that. The way your body arching, the way you moan, beg, shudder, cry out while he circles your clit. It's music to his ear. If you cum against his lips, then, Sabo would be in pure heaven.

"Look at how wet you are. Can't wait to fill you up." While pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. And as he pulls them off, oh, sure, he would show you how wet you are because he's a tease. Before licking his fingers covered in your wetness. "You taste so good. I bet you pussy will be amazing around my cock."

If you tell him you're ready for more, Sabo, being a smart and responsible boy, would use a condom and lube.

"Shit… you're so tight. You're okay? Want me to stop?" While slowly burying his length inside you.  "That's my brave girl, taking all of my cock so well."

Sabo would make an effort to stay soft and sweet just for you. But you feel too good around him, how you clench and spasm around his girth, your tightness, and wetness... it’s too much for him.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside you."

He would let out a shaky breath, gently steadying you while thrusting into you. Really beautiful moans close to your ears. 

And really clingy during the aftercare. 

(In his mind, he's already thinking about your next round and how his claws would look awesome on your throat.)

Ace

CW : creative use of DF (in a soft/sweet way), slight praises, fingering, face sitting, protected sex, slight dirty talk

If you explain to Ace that you're always nervous and stressed during sex, his first reaction is to panic. And to ask for help from Marco, because Ace is kind and afraid of hurting you. Or not being good enough for you. So he needs some advice, and well, Marco is a doctor. 

Once he's more informed, the next time you're having a passionate making-out session, Ace would try his best to reassure you and be extra sweet for you.

In fact, he doesn't have a lot of experience. He always thinks he's not worthy. So it's not easy for him to be intimate, and random hookups are not something he's comfortable with. 

He would sit you on his laps and cherish every inch of your body. Your curves are a sight to behold. He feels lucky to touch you. His hands are probably shaking a bit because he's both nervous and excited. He would slowly reach for your bottom and cup your ass cheeks with his hands. "I need you so bad, Y/N" 

He would always make certain that you are okay with every action. Like, asking you before touching your breasts, taking off your clothes etc. Such a sweet boy. 

He would just push your panties to the side, feeling the heat between your thighs. "Can I?" His voice thick with need and adoration. Your tightness and warmth around Ace's fingers would make him mesmerized. He would hold you tight while fingering you until you beg and beg for more.

Even if his cock is throbbing with need, but he would be focused on you, and only you. "You're so pretty. Feel how hard I am for you?" 

"You taste so good. I want more" while licking his fingers. 

He would ask you to sit on his face. Because he's so eager. He loves your body, how you feel, how you taste, and the warmth of your thighs pressed against his face. He would love to feel you squirm as he circles your cheek with his fingers and push the tip of his tongue inside you. 

Would playfully slap your ass or grip it to press your pussy more firmly against his lips.

When you tell him you're ready for more, Ace would feel a bit nervous again. So he would let you straddle him. At least you can control the depth. Plus, your body is beautiful, so cowgirl is an awesome position to watch all of your curves again and again.

"Fuck, you're amazing"

Another responsible boy, he would use a condom. Ace is too frightened to have a child by accident. 

He would hold your hips tightly and the moment his cockhead starts to stretch your walls, Ace would turn into a moaning mess because it feels too good for his poor soul. 

"Y/N, you feel so damn good." The more you impale yourself on his length, the more Ace would moan. The sensation is too overwhelming for him, he can't handle it. 

"You're taking me so well. You're alright? You feel me right there?" While gently rubbing his palms along your lower stomach. And if it hurts a bit, he would use his DF to gently massage your lower stomach, soothing you with the nice warmth. 

Ace will lay you on your back and nuzzle his head on your neck once you feel comfortable and relaxed. Although his thrusts are gentle, you can still feel the force behind them. He’s probably holding back a bit. He would be fond of the way you squirm when the cold pearls of his collar touch your skin. 

Beautiful, really beautiful moans. 

And would randomly fall asleep on you after he cum. With his cock still inside you.

Shanks 

CW : face sitting, slight praises, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, pet name (pretty girl), slight size kink, teasing

Shanks may be kinky as Sabo, but if you're already nervous due to stress, he won't bend you over the table to fuck you senseless. 

"Aw, my pretty girl is stressed? Why? Because I'm too big?" with a playful smile on his lips. He's such a tease.

He would be a little goofy, with some silly dad jokes that would make you laugh. Shanks is not always goofy. I mean, if you want him to fuck you rough, he can. But if you're nervous, then he won't mind making things extra fun. The more you laugh, the less nervous you are after all, and that's all he wants. He likes when sex is enjoyable and natural. 

"Maybe I'm armless, but at least, I'm pretty good with my last hand. Wanna try?" with a playful grin.

And damn, he's right. He is talented, even if he has only one hand. The easiest position for Shanks is to sit on his face. First, you're pretty and he loves feeling your juice drip on his chin. Secondly, he's sure he won't lose his balance and just fall on you randomly. Keyword: goofy.

Your pussy's taste would be so intoxicating. Perhaps even better than alcohol. With his hand, he would circle your clit with his thumb and push two thick fingers inside you. You can't help but cum as he stimulates you with his hand and tongue. 

"Mh, that's my pretty girl, all wet and open for me. Look at how my fingers are sliding with ease. I bet you're ready for my cock?" 

He would love how you feel flushed and flustered by his words. Such a tease. 

As you look at his thick and long cock twitching in need, he would just laugh playfully. "Aw pretty girl, don't be afraid, it doesn't bite. I'll stretch you out juuuust nice." 

Shanks is probably a bit lazy sometimes and also loves to look at his girl, so his favorite position is always when you're on top of him. He enjoys observing your curves and how you use him for your own pleasure. 

"Ride me, don't be lazy." 

(So sassy.)

"That's it, take me all the way in." As you gradually impale yourself onto his thick length. Despite your nervousness, he did a fantastic job of soothing you. He will try to alleviate your pain with more silly jokes if it's still painful. "Atta girl" as he's finally balls deep inside of you. 

He would love to watch you bounce up and down as you ride him. His gaze would be fixed on your breasts or his throbbing cock, sliding in and out, all covered by your wetness. "Fuck, you're really swallowing me. You like how nice I'm stretching you?" 

"You're riding me so well. You love riding your captain, huh?" He would squeeze your breasts or ass playfully while you're doing all the work. And, because he's a tease, he would circle your clit with his thumb. He would laugh as you squirm and coat his cock with your juice. "What's wrong, pretty girl?" 

Really chatty and playful throughout the whole time. If you tease him about his missing arm, he would laugh first. If you continue, be ready for him to fuck you senseless, pull on your hair, spank you, and even bite you. "Say that again?" 

(Sure, he would know you're unable to answer because of his relentless pounding. That’s too bad, right?)

Mihawk 

CW : slight size kink, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), mention of knife play, slight praises, slight dirty talk, protected sex 

Mihawk is a gentleman. While he may have some kinks, sex with him is always about consent and respect. Even when he's extra rough.

So if you tell him you're really stressed because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and because of his size… he would be extra careful. 

Mihawk is really classy, so first thing first, he would run you a hot bath for the both of you. And tell you a couple of times how beautiful your bare body is. Gently, he would kiss all of your wet skin, easing your fears, and fondling your breasts. It's probably a bit scary to be so intimate with Mihawk, because his piercing eyes are really impressive. But he's a god when it comes to observing your reactions and learning from them. 

If you lean against his torso, his cock will be pressed against your back. All throbbing with need. But he won't ask you anything: he wants to satisfy you and only you. 

He would love the feeling of your breasts against his palms and sucking on your nipples. "I'm sure you're already all wet for me." Yes, even with the water, he would still know. Again, piercing eyes. "Wanna bet? Let's find out" 

And then, he would carry you to the bedrooms. Extra luxurious and precious bedsheets. The texture is heavenly on your skin. Mihawk would kiss every inch of your body, then spread your thighs. "Look like I was right" with a slight grin, before burying his head between your legs. 

Again, he's all about anticipation and elegance. He won't lick your folds as if he were a savage without manners. His first step would be to kiss your inner thighs. Keyword: teasing. He wants to see you squirm and loves to watch how wet you are already, just for a bit of teasing and anticipation. Perhaps he has a fantasy about running his sword (the small one around his neck) along your inner legs. In a soft way, sure. But he won't do it because you're already anxious.

And when he finally starts to eat you out, damn, it's pure bliss. He would constantly look at you with his hawk eyes to gauge your reactions. Figuring out how your body is working won't take him a long time. Be prepared to cum at least once against his lips. "Stay still." If you squirm too much because it feels too good.

After you cum, he would reach for your face and lips and kiss you. "You like how you taste? Because I do." With a playful grin. 

Another smart man, so he would both use a condom and lube. To reassure you, he would allow you to ride him. As you slowly sink yourself down his length, Mihawk would fall into an exquisite loss of control. 

While holding onto your hips or bedsheets, he would exhale a shaky breath. "You're so tight, I love how you clench around me." While circling your clit with his thumb to ease your potential pain. 

"You're riding me so well. That's my girl." Before giving you his hat. So now, you're a real cowgirl. Seeing his girl riding him with his hat would make his cock throb with need. His hands would tightly hold your hips to help you move up and down his length. The sloshing noises, your moans, shudders, how you clench around him, how your juice is dripping down his cock, how your breasts are bouncing with each thrust… it's too much to handle for his sake. 

"You're so pretty for me." 

He would end up really needy to feel your skin against his. Get ready to stay still on your back as he fucks you with a strong yet gentle pace. A lot of eye contact and intertwining fingers. 

And his deep sighs, maybe even low grunts. A pure delight.

[withleeknow]

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]

[w2sology]

Kids fic/dilf Harry plsss

big little boss, harry lewis.

summary: harry just can't seem to say no when it comes to his little girl, especially when she's taken his pestering and temper.

warnings: mentions of baby teething, not proofread!

notes: had to pull out the prompt list for this one 😭 anyways babygirl finally has a name thanks to the beautiful anon who recommended it :))

darcy had recently began teething and it was an absolute mare. you and harry were up later than usual trying to get her to sleep or soothing her pain, and nothing seemed to be working. one of the few things that did work was letting her lay skin to skin on harry's chest until she fell asleep.

however a problem with that was that darcy was a biter. as in anything remotely near her mouth would feel the consequences of her not-yet-there teeth.

harry was taking the brunt of it, his skin littered in little marks from when he'd hold her close to him and she'd just grab at whatever was closest to her. and in response, harry would yelp or cuss, hoping she was still in that phase where she didn't yet understand words enough to repeat them back.

with you on the other hand, darcy was much more gentle. she'd only give you a nibble here and there if your fingers were close to her mouth, somehow being able to sense that the look you were giving her wasn't one of approval.

also, unlike harry you actually utilised the teething toys that were gifted to you two at your baby shower, so darcy was pretty much preoccupied with chewing on something else other than you.

today was a pretty regular day for your small family; harry wasn't filming with the boys and you were still on maternity leave with no plans for the day. deciding to use it as a means to go for a big shop later on, you and harry made a start early on in the day.

"did you make her bottle or should i?" harry mumbled as his arms wrapped around your body, tucked in comfortably right behind you as you made yourself a cup of tea.

"that's alright, love, i already did it," smiling at this soft kisses he left along your neck and on your cheek. "is she up yet?"

harry nodded, telling you that darcy was having a bit of tummy time in the sitting room. and as you looked over, you couldn't help but laugh at the makeshift fort harry had made our of pillows to make sure nothing happened to darcy.

he allowed you to finish your tea, opting to get darcy dressed for the day.

"how the fuck does this go on?" harry mumbled to himself, fiddling with the button on darcy's blouse. he really didn't know why kids clothes had to be almost as complicated as adult clothes.

darcy babbled on to herself as harry slid on her socks, making random noises as harry entertained her too, pretending they were having a conversation of their own.

as he picked her up off of the bed, harry looked through his wardrobe in search of his own outfit for the day.

darcy's head lay on her dad's shoulder poking around at his skin before she stopped briefly.

next thing harry knew, her sharp gums were sinking into his bare shoulder.

"ow─── darc!" he groaned, mismatching her smile and refusal to release his shoulder.

maybe that was harry's fault for not wearing a shirt.

"i told you to wear a shirt around her," you couldn't hold in your laugh as you walked in, taking your daughter from her father's arms and wiping over the baby pink mark that she left on him.

"i didn't know she was gonna fucking bite me at every chance," harry huffed, kissing your lips before leaving to get changed himself.

"you," you said, tickling darcy's tummy and hearing her bright laugh. "need to stop biting your daddy."

it turns out you and harry didn't actually pick a place to shop at. usually you'd go to tesco, sometimes asda or costco. but since you didn't plan which of them to go to, harry ended up driving to tesco.

ever since you gave birth, he'd been offering to drive you around a lot more, slotting away from his preferred role of passenger princess. and you weren't complaining, not one bit.

so as you opened up the makeshift shopping list on your notes, harry sat darcy in the kids's seat of the trolley and began to push her.

shopping with harry usually consisted of him grabbing random things and claiming they were needed, whereas you were more organised and actually took note of what you did and didn't have at home.

now with a little one, it was like harry's role had been multiplied by two. whenever she could reach out for something, darcy would make a show of clinging onto it with her little hands until you and harry had no choice but to take it with you to the till.

as you picked out two boxes of cereal, harry was entertaining darcy, who seemed nothing short of unamused. she watched as her dad poked and prodded gently at her, waiting for a smile to decorate her face.

"what's gotten into you, hm?" he frowned, stroking her cheek with his finger, momentarily forgetting his daughter was teething.

"darc, you've gotta stop biting me," harry whimpered, pulling his finger away from her grip. he looked over at you with a frown, cradling his finger but you were to immersed in the food shoo to realise.

you continued to scroll through the aisles, harry and darcy following right behind you. every now and then you'd turn to harry, holding up and item and he'd either nod yes or shake his head no.

it went on like that for a few moments until darcy grew a little agitated with sitting still for too long. just harry's luck, you guys were near the baby aisle, so he took darcy down there in hopes of finding something to distract her for a little bit.

a small teething toy caught his eye, and actually made him let out a sigh of relief, as if darcy would be able to take it out on the toy now and not on him.

"here you go," he smiled, letting her hold on to it. he wasn't sure if you two would end up buying it or not, so he kept it in its packaging, hoping she'd find some entertainment in just looking at it.

and that she did; she was quiet for the rest of the shop aside from the occasional babble and giggle she let out.

now at the till, harry helped you unload the shopping, and it was then that you noticed the nee toy darcy had. "really, harry?" you held in a laugh.

"what?"

"she's got like ten of those already, and some are in her bag," you gestured to darcy's baby essential bag that you brought with you.

harry glanced down at the bag, then back at you, shrugging as he continued to unload the shopping. "one more won't hurt."

harry was such a girl dad, he couldn't ever bring himself to say no to her. quite like he was with you sometimes.

you rolled your eyes, attempting to take the toy away from darcy to place on the till with the rest of the stuff. "darcy, babe, i'm just going to pay for it," you laughed at her super strong grip, and the frown that replaced her smile, similar to how harry looked when he was moping about.

she shook her head, trying to hide the the toy close to her chest. she looked over at harry with those huge eyes of hers, expecting him to intervene.

and that he did. he let you unpack the small amount of items still in the trolley as he picked darcy out of it, kissing all over her face to distract her from the fact that the toy was no longer in her hands, but instead on the conveyor belt.

but darcy didn't seem to notice. instead, both her small hands were on either side of harry's face, squishing and poking as she smiled and babbled to him.

you didn't know how he did it, it was as if he was just meant to understand her better than you. you didn't mind though, it meant that harry was the one who got the end of darcy's little tantrums instead of you.

when it came to pay for the items, harry reached over and tapped his phone on the card machine, ignoring the glare you were giving him as you collected the receipt.

"you thought you almost got away with it," he laughed, knowing that no matter what, he'd always pay if you were with him.

he helped you but the bags back in the trolley, darcy safely in his hold as you walked back to the car.

when she was buckled in, harry handed her the toy that she surely forgot all about, kissing her forehead. "now you can stop biting me," he smiled, going back to the driver's side.

you smiled at your daughter through the mirror, matching that smile to harry's when he put his seatbelt on.

"why're you looking all soppy, then?"

"nothing," you rolled your eyes, smile still on your face. "just happy, is all."

[alaskasmonsters]

Hola! Congratulations on 1k followers! The 2nd part of your Gojo writing was 🤌🤌🤌 chef's kiss!

If it's not taken could I please request a sanji drabble for the angst prompt "You're hands are shaking"? Idk why but I think that would be sooo suiting ^~^ if not that's obviously totally fine! Thank you so much, have a nice day, mwah!

𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 (sanji)

pairing: sanji x gn!reader

content: fluff, angst-ish, trembling hands possibly caused by distress/anxiety (not disclosed), established relationship

a/n: uHm?!? no one is as surprised as me for posting this i literally just sat down and wrote this like an hour ago or sth i am being so fr? idk what has come over me. anon?? idk if you’re still here and ik it’s been a year like lITERALLY but?? hope you like it?? ig?? anyways sanji is the loml and i think he is so cuute and he has lots of trauma to work through.

☁️1k follower event (open)

Your eyes softened as they fell upon Sanji's frame, slightly hunched over the sink, shoulders rounded as he leaned forwards slightly to wash the dishes. You hadn't noticed before, too caught up in your irritation with him as a person (Sanji sometimes did that to you) and with his earlier persistance during the physical altercation you have had with another pirate crew to throw himself in front of you whenever someone dared as much as look in your direction.

He was so overprotective sometimes and it annoyed you. It also led to you scolding him about it and throwing petty retords at him whenever the opportunity presented itself, which you had been about to do before you noticed that something was off.

The words died on your lips then, and your irritation disappeared as quickly as it had taken hold of your body before.

"Sanji," you called softly, eyebrows bunching together as you narrow your eyes slightly in an attempt to take a closer look at his hands.

He didn't react and that was weird, because Sanji always reacted to you calling his name or attempting to draw his attention to you in any other way. Usually he perked up like a fucking dog whenever you just entered a room.

You took a step closer, frowning as calling his name again didn't show any differeng result. Carefully you reach out and grab his wrist and almost recoiled by how violently he flinched from your sudden touch and the way his unfocused eyes snapped towards you.

When he saw it was only you his body relaxed again.

“Y/n…”

“Your hands are shaking.”

He stared at you for a moment, not understanding or comprehending your words before he blinked quickly, eyes darting down to his hands and the trembling plate he was holding and that he had been attempting to clean for the past 5 minutes.

“Oh, yeah I…” He trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence empty.

You sighed softly and reached out to take the plate and the sponge from him, softly nudging him with your hip to step back and let you take over. He did, watching you with his hands still half raised in the air, looking disoriented.

You finished the plate and the rest of the dishes in silence, giving him a moment to come back to himself. When you dried your hands he was still standing right behind you, looking at you, so you took the towel you had just used and turned back to him. Carefully, you grasped one of his hands and started drying it.

"You're an idiot."

Sanji grimaced at your remark.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to.” You interrupted him, causing him to shut his mouth again. “I’ll dry your hands and then I’ll help you sit down.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sanji, you’ll sit down and you will sit until your hands stop shaking.” You peered up at him, pinning him with your gaze as you squeezed his hands. “Cool?”

He nodded, not wanting to argue with you. Instead he just lowered his head, shoulders relaxing as he let out a sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you mumbled and lifted his hands up to your lips to leave a kiss on the back of each of them.

His lips twitched, smiling softly at that.

[ryuichirou]

how would the TWST boys react if they were chosen by the cat distribution system and a stray cat choose them to be its cat dad?

Today I decided that it’s time to write about something delightful lol I keep smiling every time I remember that we have this ask in our askbox… Thank you for waiting, Anon! I’m sorry it took this long.

Maaaybe I’ll write more hc posts next week… I try to write at least two per week, but there are so many good prompts that I should probably try to do more.

Anyways! Once again my bias is clear because I am a poor soul that loves cats but doesn’t own one, so spoiler alert: all the boys end up loving cats as well lol But I think it’s fair… How does one not like cats? Don’t ask Ciel.

Riddle – his first instinct is to refuse poor cat’s attempts to hang out because his mother never let him own a cat: they claw furniture, they bite, and Riddle has allergies! Or… he thought he did. He didn’t get any reaction from the cat, so maybe that was a lie?? Anyways, he would melt almost immediately because a fluffy creature wanting to be his friend is something that Riddle always wished for. He loves animals and taking care of them, so there is no way he is letting go of that cat! Of course he has to get used to it because a cat would never follow any rules, and sometimes it would get frustrating for Riddle, but… whenever a cat wants to play with him or cuddle with him, Riddle giggles like the happiest kid in the world. No one is allowed to pet his cat without his permission.

Ace – he will brag about it a lot. He’ll take the cat everywhere and always have it either on his lap or on his shoulders. He’ll always talk about just how much the cat purrs for him and him only, and how cool of a person he is because the cat clearly chose him specifically to be his owner. The cat really does like him a lot, but it doesn’t mean that Ace doesn’t get scratched or bitten all the time lol Also, at some point it will become the freshmen’s cat that everyone takes care of a little, and Ace would start to constantly remind everyone that this is in fact HIS cat!

Deuce – aw, he would probably be a little awkward at first. He strikes me as someone who is more of a dog person and doesn’t have much experience with cats… He would be very careful around it, as if he isn’t just afraid to hurt the cat, he doesn’t even want to offend it somehow. Of course he would swear that he’ll take care of the cat and be very responsible about it! But it will take a while for him to take it inside the dorm; he’ll just feed it and hang out with it outside at first… until the weather gets too cold.

Trey – he would have this “why me though?” vibe to his reaction, but he would still be kind of happy. Maybe he shouldn’t have fed it, now it follows him around everywhere… Trey says that this isn’t really his cat, but keeps taking care of it anyway. He never expected to be this delighted to have a cat. He would get much more into it than he expected, to be honest. He’ll probably feed it with home-made treats and give it toys that he made himself…

Cater – OF COURSE he’ll start taking selfies with this cat. OF COURSE. After some time he might even make a separate account for the cat, to see if it would surpass his follower count. Other than that, he would cuddle the cat a lot, talk to it, play with it, dress it up all cutely and meme-y. I think it would be very good for Cater to own a cat… He needs to learn how to take care of it properly though, so some assistance might be necessary lol

Leona – would he even care? Maybe a little bit, but he would act like he doesn’t care at all. He doesn’t even know who the fuck this cat is, it just appeared suddenly and now lives in his room. It can stay or leave, doesn’t make any difference to Leona. In actuality though, on some level he does appreciate the companionship of another cat sleeping next to him or on top of him and grooming his ears. But only when no one sees it or comments on it. He could chat with the cat btw, but he just doesn’t – for the most time they hang out in silence.

Ruggie – another cat to take care of?? And also, another mouth to feed?? Well that can’t be helped, it’s not like he is going to throw the poor thing away. I think he will manage to train it to do all kinds of tricks, like stealing stuff from others’ pockets or sneaking things away for Ruggie… the cat will be his partner in crime lol He would also probably have conversations with it, since it’s easier for him to talk to animals.

Jack – not only a dog-person, but also literally a dog, so he might have a hard time at first understanding that cat’s behavior. He is probably going to act like he isn’t interested at first, but jokes on him, because this only makes the cat more into him. He will literally sit all alone, radiating “don’t talk to me” aura, and the cat would think that this is exactly where it wants to sit – on Jack’s lap. Even though Jack is a tsundere, he is going to warm up eventually… and even while he is in his denial phase, he will take care of the cat by keeping it fed and letting it inside when it’s cold. Speaking of cold, Jack is very warm, so the cat loves him a lot…

Azul – “I don’t have time for this” at first, with all the reasons why having a cat is a bad idea popping up in his head at once. Similarly to Riddle’s mom’s mantra: it ruins furniture, it causes allergies, it sheds, it doesn’t behave… but he would also break very quickly, probably the moment the cat starts rubbing against his leg or purring at him. Azul would probably make quite a drastic 180 degree turn and enter his “a cartoon villain with a cat on his lap that he pets menacingly” phase by the end of his first day with the said cat. It feels good. It feels correct to pet a fluffy purring creature while you’re humiliating someone who is indebted to you. Also, of course he is going to treat the cat like royalty and get it all the best things… and also train it like a dog at the same time.

Floyd – people would think that he isn’t responsible enough to own a pet, but actually a cat would probably be the best pick for him. At first he would get all excited because this little buddy just suddenly decided to hang out with him. Floyd would just suddenly start appearing everywhere with a cat on his shoulder like he is a pirate or something. But then both the cat and Floyd would lose interest in each other, until they meet again and decide that they want to hang out again lol But while Floyd and cat are together, he takes it everywhere, plays with it a lot, races with it, cuddles it, smooches it, throws it in the air and catches it. Some of Floyd’s games aren’t the best for the cat, so Floyd ends up getting scratched and hissed at quite often, but for some reason the cat still adores him enough to let him do anything with it, even hold it upside-down.

Jade – it’s easy to picture him being a cat-lover because of the Sebastian parallels lol I think he would really enjoy owning a cat, and he would make it everyone else’s problem. Just like Floyd, he would walk around with a cat on his shoulders, but he would always mention it: please don’t mind my cat, he just loves me very much. I hope you are not bothered by my cat’s presence, he won’t bother us, I swear. Also, I think because Jade would actually try to properly take care of the cat, he would encounter some unpredictable issues, like a cat refusing to eat certain cat food or eating something it’s not supposed to eat. Jade would have a couple of moments that would make him fuss over it and even though he wouldn’t enjoy it… he likes the unpredictability. Keep chewing on random things, cat! But not too much, please.

Kalim – he would be so happy and excited!! It’s like making a friend, but a new kind of friend, a very fluffy one! Kalim is probably way too cuddly for the cat’s liking, so sometimes he would get confused by it running away from him. He just wants the cat to be happy… he would buy 5 cat towers, 30 toys and a bunch of cool accessories for the cat during the very first day of owning it (then he’ll buy more)! And 10 beds, so the cat could pick whichever it likes most (it sleeps in Kalim’s bed of course)!! And of course he will ask Jamil to learn how to cook delicious meals for the cat. He would try to feed the cat his own food first, but of course would stop once he learns that the cat shouldn’t eat spicy food…

Jamil – another one who would think that he doesn’t have time or energy to take care of another thing at first, but would warm up very quickly. He would tsundere up a bit when Kalim says that he is happy that Jamil has a little fluffy friend now, but after a while he will realise that Kalim is kind of right… a cat is even better than a friend. Hanging out with it doesn’t take as much energy, in fact, Jamil feels very energised after petting it and playing with it. Wow… a cat would do wonders to Jamil’s psyche…! He would both cuddle with it and let it sleep in his bed at night, and play a lot of active games with it whenever he has time for it.

Vil – despite how busy he always is, I think he would accept the cat immediately. The cat clearly chose him – it’s only fair that it’s Vil’s responsibility to take care of it now… I don’t think Vil has a lot of experience with cats, but he would read a lot of books and articles to make sure that the cat lives a good life in his dorm. He wouldn’t be as excessive as Kalim, but… he might have gotten carried away with the stuff that he got for the cat. But all of it is very necessary! The best cat food (he’ll ditch it after a while and start cooking for the cat himself), the best sleeping place, the best toys to make sure that the cat is active and healthy. He will also bathe it, brush its fur every day, trim its nails… Vil’s cat is going to be such a wonderfully groomed cat that knows all kinds of tricks and is very smart and well-behaved… but also Vil’s capricious baby that hates everyone other than him lol

Rook – oh, he wouldn’t consider himself an owner, he would always say that he is a companion to his cat lol He wouldn’t get surprised when the cat suddenly starts to follow him around, but he would act so flattered and honoured! Such a beautiful creature decided to illuminate his life with its presence. Rook is pretty good at talking to animals, so he would have conversations with his cat… While sitting in a tree together lol He would feed it of course, but he would also hunt with it and would prefer for it to catch its own prey. He also doesn’t want to trim its nails or groom it more than necessary, but alas, if it wants to live in Pomefiore with him, it has to follow Vil’s rules~ Rook wouldn’t want to anger the queen with an ill-behaved and dirty cat, right? Maybe he would prefer to keep the cat outside though, to keep it as undomesticated as possible. A weirdo…

Epel – he would be so happy! It’s been a while since he owned a pet, and this is the first time he has a cat. He would pet and cuddle it a lot, even if it’s still dirty… Of course, his first instinct would be to feed it and to bring it to his room. But he would also probably be anxious to bring it to the dorm: what if Vil sees it and takes it away… and even if Vil doesn’t see it, Rook is definitely going to notice the cat smell or something, and he will snitch on him! Anyways, he won’t be able to keep it a secret for a long time, but the cat will do some damage lol Surprisingly, Epel will only get scolded for not being a proper owner, so as long as he does better, the cat can stay. But it probably means that his senpai will start taking care of the cat as well. Epel will be a bit jealous, it’s his cat after all…

Idia – he’d die. He’d be so happy. A cat that doesn’t hate him? A cat that wants to hang out? A cat that FOLLOWS HIM TO HIS ROOM AND STAYS THERE? HIS CAT? Idia would feel like he spent all of his luck points that he had saved up for these 18 years. Or was it good karma? Anyways, Idia now spends all his time building cat towers and automatic feeders and toys and all kinds of gadgets for his cool new cat. At first he wouldn’t be as good at talking to a cat, and it would be very obvious that he is a bit worried when he pets it and doesn’t want to scare it away, but he’ll start cuddling with it pretty quickly. He’s so happy… It doesn’t feel real, it doesn’t feel real at all. Even when he gets used to the cat and stops being so awkward around it, he will still feel such huge wave of happiness every time he sees it, as if every time he sees it is the first time…

Ortho – this is the first time he has a fluffy friend, well, other than Grim of course! And Lucius isn’t very friendly with him either, so this is a pretty new experience! Of course, partially he would be excited because if he owns a cat, it’s Idia’s cat as well, and he knows how much Idia loves cats. But also, this is such a good opportunity to make a proper cat-to-human translator!.. It’s weird with Ortho. He has all the info he needs, and he is very good at some things, but somehow… petting and interacting with a cat is a bit difficult. Why doesn’t kitty want to eat this food? Why did it pee in the wrong place? What’s going on? I think he’ll end up asking Trein for advice a lot, and this will be a good experience for everyone involved. Also, his cat loves him more when his processor gets hot lol he is a walking heater.

Lilia – he would be happy at first and show off and brag because now he isn’t just cute, he’s double cute! With a cute cat on his head/shoulders! But at the same time, I don’t know if he is the best person to have a cat. I feel like he is one of those who try to feed it with milk, but also knowing Lilia, he literally makes those he cares for drink milk from a mug. Maybe he’d act differently with a cat, but it surely will be an adventure for this poor animal lol He plays with it similarly to how Floyd plays with his cat, and just like with Floyd, somehow it makes the cat very attached to him. Sometimes Lilia cuddles it and kisses it a lot, but a lot of times it’s the cat that gets clingy with Lilia and wants to sleep with its head on his shoulder. Acting like a baby, smh…

Silver – aw, he would be so good. Similarly to Rook, he would consider a cat to be a companion, but he would also try to be very responsible with his he takes care of it. He would take it to Diasomnia and let it sleep in his bed, wouldn’t do much grooming or brushing, but he would do his best in terms of playing with it and feeding it well, I think. Especially the latter lol But the majority of time the cat would just cuddle up and sleep with him whenever he’s dozing off.

Sebek – he has better things to do than to indulge in these games!! He says as he brings the cat home with a bunch of books with all the necessary information on how to take care of a cat!! Did he also fall victim of cute paws and purring? Maybe! But it won’t affect his performance as Malleus’ guard in a slightest! I think he will try to train the cat, and he might even succeed to some degree, but his cat won’t be as well-trained as Vil’s or Azul’s. Maybe the cat just doesn’t take him seriously and just wants to make biscuits on his stomach while sleeping on his lap… Sebek would seethe, but won’t move until the cat leaves :(

Malleus – the cat isn’t afraid of him? Oh he would be so delighted. He was very happy about the goat in the Glorious Masquerade event, and I think his reaction would be similar here: first amusement, a little surprise, but then he would get so tickled and excited for this new companionship. The cat would be allowed to seemingly disrespect Malleus by positioning itself on his horns, leaving fur on his garment, playing with his hair, and Malleus would laugh… until the cat scratches him. Then Malleus would start sulking. But he’ll get over it, he’s not a baby.

[jennifer-jeong]

Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...

Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)

HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!

I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe

Fluff + Angst | LADS x Fae!Reader Angel

CONTENT Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.

It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.

You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.

You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.

The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.

Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.

It’d take years, but it was worth it.

2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.

XAVIER

Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.

Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.

He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.

After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.

Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.

“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”

ZAYNE

Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.

He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.

He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.

Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.

Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.

Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.

You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.

Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.

“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.

The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.

Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.

Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.

Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.

After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.

When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?

Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.

“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hello darling. Hope you had nice day and that I'm not disturbing ☺️. Please drink some water, eat something and take your meds if you take any.

Now . Hear me out. Sub!Larissa x Dom reader. Larissa had really bad day and r comforts her. Slowly things heat up and basically ends in L drooling and moaning with every hole stuffed to the brim. (R is type of outcast that can clone themselves but it disappears at will) . Some fluff and aftercare as well. Cuz heavens know this woman deserves it.

My that sounds dirty 😂 I'll understand if you are uncomfortable with writing this love, no pressure. Have nice rest of the day/night.

💤-

Heyyy, 💤 anon!! Thank you for your patience. Yes, I love this idea 🥰 I love Sub!Larissa Weems content! And I won’t judge you, this is a safe, dirty-friendly space 💗 Anyways, hope you Enjoy!! ♥️

In Times of Need ~Sub!Larissa xFem Dom!Wife!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, strap-on fucking, eating out, body admiration, cloning, crying, kissing, drooling, anxiety, implied anxiety attack, stress, stress aches, overstimulation, etc.

Enjoy (;

Larissa walked through your front door and closed it behind her. You heard the click and your eyes flickered to the clock.

9pm… On a Friday…

She made it into the middle of the ground floor when she suddenly stopped.

“Hey Love!” You exclaimed from the kitchen.

But you got no response. You had heard the blonde come in but you hadn’t heard or seen her… Puzzled, you threw the towel which you were drying your hands with aside, and you walked into the living room which connected to the front hallway.

And there you found your wife, standing frozen in the middle of the hallway. Her shoulders were tensed, her lips pursed, her hands clutching her briefcase tightly, And her eyes were moving frantically from side to side.

“ ‘Rissa…?” You softly spoke.

Larissa’s eyes blinked and she was pulled from her thoughts back to you. She sighed incontently.

“I’m sorry, Darling… Lot of my mind…” her lips moved imprecisely in a combination sigh and mumble.

“Oh Love… Bad day…Lots on your mind…?” you comforted, lightly correcting her choice of words and coming up into her personal space.

Her eyes darted away and began its frantic movements once more. Your hand went to her cheek, caressing her face.

“Forgot my anxiety medication today…” Larissa whispered and nodded, her eyes still frantic and now starting to tear up.

Suddenly she dropped her briefcase. You sighed lightly and began to coax her out of her coat.

“I’m so sorry, ‘Ris…” you comforted the blonde.

You got her out of her coat, taking it and placing it away on its designated hook.

“It’s too much… I… no meds… got yelled at… I… c-can’t… think anymore…” the tall principal choked out.

You sighed and ran your hands lovingly down her shoulders, leaving your hands in an embrace with hers. You squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“Let me, Love…? Let me help…” you cooed.

The woman bit her lip and nodded.

“Deep breaths for me ‘Rissa please.”

Larissa listened to you and took a few deep breaths.

“Have you eaten?” You asked.

She nodded.

“Stress eating…” your wife mumbled.

Your face was filled with concern and care at her the more the blonde spoke.

“Alright, well let’s get you upstairs.” You softly cooed.

Larissa nodded and follows your lead as you brought her with you upstairs and into your shared bedroom. You placed the woman on the edge of the bed, sitting behind her. You began removing her tight pins, pin after pin, while also massaging her tight muscles. The blonde let out many small whimpers and sighs of pleasure along the way.

Once you had let all of your wife’s curls loose, you helped her stand up slowly. You unzipped her dress slowly, letting it pool to the ground. Once Larissa had stepped out of the garment, you took it and placed it in the laundry basket. You then guided the woman to the middle of the bed.

You laid down next to her, her figure inside yours, as you spooned her. One of your hands massaged her hair and scalp, and the other wandered her body, slowly massaging the tension away.

“Breathe, Baby… Deep breaths… Let me take care of you” you whispered into her ear.

Larissa let out a sigh of relief at your words. She felt safe in your arms.

“T-thank you…” she mumbled, a few tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Of course, Love… Anytime” you comforted.

At your words, the blondes tears fell down her cheeks.

“I… my make up… mess…” Larissa stammered.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it…” you cooed, moving her body to face you and looking her in the eyes, “I’ll help you with that later…”

More tears flowed from the woman’s eyes as she nodded. You then placed your hands on her shoulder and hip, and lovingly pecked her lips, effectively picking up a good amount of her lipstick onto your lips. You then began to kiss her neck, transferring her lipstick from your mouth to her skin.

Larissa’s breath was evening out the more skin contact you made. You went back up to peck her lips once more, and then started kissing her shoulders, so that both her neck and shoulders were littered with kiss marks. After yet another peck to the lips, you marked the valley of her breasts with smudges of red. At this, the blonde moaned lightly. You looked up at your wife to check in with her.

“Is this alright…?” You gently asked.

Larissa nodded vigorously.

“Yesss…” she breathed out.

You looked up to the blonde and smiled at her response.

“You wanna talk about it…?”

You received a strangled sigh from her in return.

“I… I just have so much to do, all of time time…” Larissa whispers, “And it all piles up. I go to bed with things I couldn’t get done, then I wake up, and I’m behind because those things and ten others need to have been done in the days before” she rambled.

“I hear you, love… But remember, you’re doing the best that you can. You’re amazing, and you’re giving it your all.” You lovingly hummed.

“I just can’t remember the last time… a time where I wasn’t this stressed and—” the blonde’s voice chocked out for a second, before she continued, “and anxious… I just live with constant anxiety, my body aches all day long from the stress… Sometimes I wish I could just scream at the top of my lungs and get it all out” she answered.

Your face was filled with concern and care. You continued your administrations as Larissa let out all that had been bothering her. As you went on, she started to let out breathy whimpers and light moans more and more, while you worked the stress out of her body.

Eventually when Larissa had talked herself out for the time being, sitting up, you moved yourself to sit in between your wife’s legs. You then doubled yourself. Your clone moved to sit behind you, placing Larissa in between your clone’s own legs. Larissa’s eyes widened lightly and looked at the original you in question.

“Easier to cover more ground” you quipped with a light smirk.

You and your clone then took turns kissing the tall woman’s lips, then kissing, marking, littering her body with the lipstick smudges. Larissa leaned into both of your touches, lightly purring with delight. Her breathing had evened out. But you could still feel some tension in the tall blonde’s body.

“What do you feel for most of your day? What emotions do you carry with you the most, ‘Rissa?” You caringly asked.

Larissa let out a deep sigh at your posed questions. She had to think about it for a minute.

“I suppose… I feel trapped for great portions of my day… and I also feel lonely and inadequate…” she confessed.

Your heart ached at the words and meanings coming from your lovers lips. You wanted to take all the pain away from her, carry it on you back for her.

“Im proud of you for expressing yourself, love.” You praised the blonde, while unclipping her bra and removing it out of sight and mind.

Larissa sighed in relief at the harness of her breasts and back being relieved. You began to pay special attention to the newly visible skin, making your woman get goosebumps as you kissed her bare breasts. Your clone was massaging the parts of her back, which were sore from her bra.

“Can you tell me a bit about what it’s like for you to feel trapped…?”

You heard her take another shuttered, deep breath, needing a moment to compose herself, before going to answer your question,

“I feel— I feel like I’m stuck in a loop or tornado, where I can’t get out. No matter what I do, I never do the right thing. I can’t change anything. I can’t satisfy what others need of me, even though that’s all I try to do, all day long…” she vented.

Tears has started to come back to your wife’s eyes. She was trying to hold them back as best she could. You kissed each tear away as it fell down her cheek.

“Hey, hey… It’s okay to cry…” you whispered near her ear, nipping at her earlobe lovingly.

The blonde nodded in recognition of your words and croaked out a soft thank you. You nodded, then slowly moved down from her ear, making your way down Larissa’s figure, leaving litterings of lipstick stains and kisses everywhere you went.

“How about feeling lonely…? Can you expand on that feeling in your day?”

Larissa’s breathing had gotten shallow once more, but it wasn’t because of her anxiety this time. Your clone was sucking on her pressure point, as you kissed her up and down her inner thighs. When she didn’t seem to recognize your question, you pulled up slightly to look at Larissa. She was leaned back against your clone, her eyes screwed shut and her mouth open, taking ragged breaths.

“No no please…” Larissa breathlessly groaned, her eyes immediately perking up, “Please don’t stop…”

“Ok… But try your best to answer my questions, alright?” You chuckled lightly, and while doing so, beginning to slowly remove the blonde’s knickers.

Larissa sucked in a breath in recognition of what you were asking of her, and she nodded. You then fully removed her undergarments, and the woman swiftly spread her legs for you without needing to be asked.

“Good girl…” your clone breathed out under her breath, right in the shell of Larissa’s ear.

Your wife caught your praise and it send shivers straight to her core. Her face lit up with redness too, and you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked.

“So… you had said that you feel lonely…?” You prompted Larissa, before lowering your mouth to her heat and slowly exploring her folds.

Larissa’s eyes flew shut and she nodded vigorously. Your clone now took to teasing the blonde’s perked buds, making it only more difficult for Larissa to reply to your asks.

“Yes I… I sit in my office all day long… alone, except for meetings… N-none asks me how I’m doing, no one stops to say hello, no one knows when my birthday is, I have no f-friends…!” The blonde breathlessly whimpers, “faster please…!”

“Because you answered my question and asked so nicely…” you hum in delight, speeding up the pace in which you lap away at her sex.

Larissa’s hands tightly fist the bedsheets and her head is rolled back against your clone���s body. The blonde rocks her body against your tongue, chasing her much needed high.

“Want… wanna cum… please help me—! Need more…!!” Your wife pleads with you.

“I’ve got one more question for you…” your clone purrs in Larissa’s ear, “and then we’ll let you cum.”

The blonde lets out a strangled moan and nods in recognition. You continue stuffing your face in the woman’s cunt, your tongue fucking into her walls and tasting her delicious juices.

“Tell me about the last feeling… inadequacy. How does that impact/feel in your life?” Your clone caringly asks.

This time, it really takes a lot of concentration from Larissa to give you a solid answer.

“It’s like I—I step into ever-y room and and… Oh God—!”

Your bringing Larissa right to the edge and then pulling her off of it, over and over again.

“And I’m always… always in-nadeq-quate, always not worthy not enough, t-too difffferent! Please please please…!!” She whimpers.

Your clone has her mouth attached to one of Larissa’s nipples, sucking on it teasingly, while Larissa’s hand is driving your head further into her pussy.

“I’m— I never enough! Outcast lesbian tall woman shapeshifter…! Please Y/N Mmm gonna cum…!!!” Larissa cries out.

Your clone releases her mouth from the blonde’s tit with a pop!, her hands replacing where her mouth was.

“Cum for me, ‘Rissa” your clone purrs into Larissa’s ear, and you purr into her pussy.

The tall woman lets go with a loud cry, her body trembling as the waves of euphoria wash over her. Her mouth hangs open and her knuckles go white as she clings to the bedsheets.

Your tongue guides her through her through her high, and you happily drink all of her squirting goodness. Meanwhile, your clone whispers words of praise into Larissa’s ear and uses her hands to massage and comfort the blonde through her climax.

Eventually, your wife’s eyes flutter back open and her body’s shaking calms down to more of small shivers. You come up from in between her legs, glistening cum all over your face, and you meet the blonde face to face, connecting your lips to hers. She hums in delight as your tongue gently enters her mouth. You kiss her lovingly, letting the woman taste herself on your tongue.

You pull away and meet Larissa’s content yet at the same time wanting more expression. You cup her cheek, caressing her face, before you and your clone slip off of the bed.

“We’ll be right back” you reassure the blonde who nods with anticipation.

When you’re both ready, you and your clone come back into the room, revealing matching straps to the blonde on the bed. Larissa gasps and bites her lip, nodding eagerly in approval. You came up the the blonde and positioned her so that she was trapped between you and your clone.

You both then eased into Larissa’s holes, effectively stretching her out and making her keel over in pleasure. Her lips quivered and spewed forth strings of moans and whimpers. Once the blonde gave you the go ahead, you two and your clone began to fuck her deeper and more intense, but keeping the pace slow and painfully pleasurable.

Larissa’s mouth hung open and her eyes were rolled far back in her foggy mind. Her creamy thighs trembled, but you quickly supported the blonde’s frame lest she collapse on you. Your clone took the opportunity to palm your wife’s tits, only making Larissa cry out in pleasure even more.

“Mmmmmm Darling…! S-so closssse…!!” The woman cried out.

You brought your fingers to Larissa’s mouth.

“Shhhh, sweet girl…” you cooed, “I know, Baby… You’re all drooly for me…”

You smirked at Larissa’s drool, traveling down her chin, as you stuffed your fingers into her mouth. She gladly accepted them, moaning at having another hole of hers stuffed.

“Cum for me, ‘Rissa…” you purred into the blonde’s ear.

Your words sent Larissa into a frenzy, and with all her jokes being so tirelessly worked, she tipped over the edge once more with ease.

Her high left her limp and panting. You were about to continue, push her further, when her voice interrupted you.

“Red D-darling… too much…” Larissa breathlessly stammered.

You immediately understood, making your clone slowly pull out of her and then making the clone disappear. You then slowly pulled out of the blonde, and set your strap-on aside.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m so proud of you.” You caringly comforted the woman.

You then went to the bathroom and returned with a washcloth. You cleaned Larissa up, gently and taking your time. Afterward, you guided her into the bathtub. You ran the water, and got in the tub as well, starting to lovingly clean and caress the goddess in front of you. You made sure to clean the make up of her face as well.

Larissa was all ready for bed once she’d had you help out on her nighttime clothes. She practically fell face first on the bed. You giggled lightly, before joining the woman. Snuggled up into each other’s bodies, Larissa spoke for the first time in a while.

“Thank you, Love. I mean it.” The blonde whispered.

“Of course, ‘Ris… Anytime” you cooed in a hushed tone, then kissing the woman on the forehead lovingly.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[gortash-week]

hello gortash nation. it is i, host of this week @sankttealeaf here! gortash week may "officially" be over but that means nothing when the archduke wants more! (he will not stop until he has more, please i miss my family he's keeping me locked away in wyrms rock prison and is making me dance for his amusement! i cant dance! help please!!)

anyway - despite the event ending, i will be leaving the AO3 collection open until the end of august / early september for those who found the event a little later and want to make something for these prompts. time is a weird soup after all, we don't follow rules here!!

if you've made something and have thought "oh no! its not the day of the prompt anymore - i cant post it" PLEASE share it!! i'm still accepting submissions and i'll still reshare any gortash week work here & tag whichever day its for! i know some people found out about the event as it was happening and if the prompts have inspired you - please share!!! i'd love to see it!!

thank you from the bottom of my heart if you've participated in this event - whether that's making things or simply engaging with the content shared. it means the world to me that people found the prompts interesting enough to take time out of their day to make something for it. i had no idea this event would be as big as it's become and i'm so so so impressed with the wide variety of work made and shared!! everyone is so talented and i cant wait to see what other things you all make and write <3

as for the future? well, i'd love to run more events like this! i've mentioned before about a hypothetical "gort month" that would include two prompts per week, 8(ish) prompts in total. that way there's a loooot more time to work on things & if people wish to join halfway through it's a lot less pressure to do so! my aim for running events is to keep them as stress & pressure free as possible because theyre here to be fun! i'm also open to comments & ideas & feedback on how you (yes, you!) found this event so if i do end up running something else in the future it can be better and better! pls feel free to shoot me as ask (anon or not it's fine! be respectful though, that's all i ask<3) if you have any post-event comments you want to air and i'll respond!!

again, if i've missed any of your work you've posted, please send it my way! no message required, just drop me the link & i'll share it asap!! thank you to those who have done that already!! i easily miss things and i dont want anyone to feel like im purposefully leaving them out!!

thank you again for making this week so enjoyable! ive had such a blast hosting it and if i see any other events i'll be sure to reblog them here (for those interested: i've seen a wyllmancer week, a galemancer week (both on twitter), and a lae'zel week on here that i can't seem to find the post for to link to :( )

again - super open to comments and feedback or even if you just want to say hi! i'm way more active on my main blog if you're interested in hanging out there :3

thank u so much for this week, it's been so much fun <3 <3

[descendantsramblings]

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense or sounds weird😭 but can u write morgie x glinda the good witch’s daughter and there’s like a “pink goes good with green” moment? I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense😖😖

No you made perfect sense, sweetheart! Even if it didn’t I’d find something to do with your prompt and let you tell me you hated it and want me to try again if I didn’t get your vision. This is a cute prompt, I’m excited to use it.

Also as per her wiki page, Glinda is a sorceress and not actually a witch so I had such silly idea for this, I love it. Thank you so much for the request anon.

Also, something about them is giving me season 3 Jancy vibes and I adore it, anyway.

Flash Photography

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: the most unlikely of students somehow ended up on the yearbook committee and tasked with their own page in it

Warnings: I swear like once, this one is honestly really sweet and fluffy and honestly a little bit (lot bit) cheesy

Word Count: 2.4K

    As luck would have it, Merlin Academy’s walls only held two students who happened to be the children of sorcerers. Ironically though, as the school’s requirements for every junior to have at least one extra curricular would have it, both young sorcerers were on the yearbook committee. Morgie le Fay made one hell of a photographer, no one in the school could argue on that and (Y/n) was possibly the best journalist the school had seen. No one should have been shocked that the two would be paired together on the magic section of the yearbook. I mean, in a school made for magic, you’d only want the best for the pages about it. And don’t get him wrong, Morgie loves magic. He loves being a sorcerer and he’s excited to have a whole two pages dedicated to sorcery. But to work with (Y/n)? He’s not as sure he’s excited about that, actually there’s this odd feeling floating around in his gut as he thinks about it. Not one he seems to be able to recognize and that drives him crazy.  

    The bubble of pink joy that was the school’s only sorceress seems to float around the place, the movements being nearly mesmerizing. It’s oddly similar to her mother and Morgie can’t help but find some sort of jealousy in it. How was it seemingly so easy for her to connect into her mother’s energy and magic when he never felt like he deserved his own mother’s legacy? It was this mind boggling thing that seemed to leave him staring and unsure as to what caused it. Like she was something to be studied in his mind. 

   Not that that matters though, how could it when she’s perched in the seat next to him, bubbling off ideas as she talks with her hands. The scent of her sweet perfume taking an overwhelming amount of his attention as she nearly beams at him. Bright features filling up the space at their two person table top as they workshop different layouts for the opening pages. They have a base idea for the layout, and a good grasp on when he needs to pop into classes such as “Caring for Magic Creatures” and “Honors Alchemy” to get good shots. But moving on to do their page seems to put both teens at pause, eyes flickering over each other as if begging the other person to make the first decision.

   Morgie finds himself speaking first, words coming out on a groan that he hopes sounds playful, “Well, with the way we dress our spread is going to be a visual nightmare to put together.” It causes the sorceress across from him to scrunch her brows, “What do you mean?” With a vague gesture that seems somewhere close to a wave he references to both of their outfits, “Well you know the green and gold with the pink and silver. Totally clashes, it’ll be a nightmare to take pictures of.” It earns him a giggle, her head shaking as she smiles at him, “No it’ll look great, pink goes great with green, they’re complimentary colors. Trust me, we’ve got this.” Something in him begs to argue with her, but he can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like that. 

   So he nods, pulling the notebook in front of him closer with a smile, “Well then, Madam Good Witch, what are you thinking of writing on this page?” She smiles, looking at him as she absent-mindedly doodles little flowers in the margins of her notebook, “Well, obviously we need to explain what makes being a sorcerer different from other magic users, then I was thinking we could talk about our mothers’ legacies. You know, a good magic versus black magic sort of thing.” Morgie hates the idea, the last think he wants to do is praise his mother and her legacy, but surely that’s what Madam Jinx is looking for. And when the bright bubble beside you looks so excited she seems like she might burst, how do you tell her no? So he smiles, teeth on shy display and nods, giving into exactly what she wants from him. What else was there for him to do? ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・     Morgie le Fay was no idiot, his camera obviously had a timer, there was no need for anyone else to take his picture. But when she asked to do it, bouncing on her toes with that bright smile, how could he say no? How could Morgie do anything but slide the strap of the camera over her head and gently position her hands over his most prized possession? He’s got his hands on top of hers, holding his camera as he points it towards the school, coaching her through how to use it. She’s smiling, soft giggles escaping her lips as she follows his instructions. Bodies seeming to find a comfortable temperature in the January air against one another.  “Okay, now you feel that little wheel at the top of the left side? Slide it until the words on the sign are legible.” She nods, following his instructions, her thumb brushing over his in a ghostly fashion with each movement. “Okay, now what?” “Now, press the button that I put your right index finger on.” He hears the shutter click, her finger dipping down under his as he puts the lightest pressure on it. “There you go! Now, when you do it for pictures of me, you won't need to focus it in as far, just make sure I’m not blurry and you can handle the rest. I believe in you.”

   (Y/n) feels slightly cold as Morgie pulls away from her, letting one hand drop from the camera as she pulls it lower on its strap. Her eyes set on watching the boy walk to stand in front of the cobblestones beside them, setting up a blank backdrop for their photos. She’s studying him, taking in his green button up and gold scarf, leather clinging to his arms in a way that should clash with the rest of his outfit but instead makes it oddly dashing. With a smile pressed over his lips as he eyes her up and down. “You know, you need to hold the camera up to take my picture, right?” “Right, yeah,” and she lifts it back up, focusing the camera in on him, just to drop it again, “Hold on.” The girl's mary janes make a sweet little tapping sound on the concrete as she approaches him, slow and gentle as if she’s sure he’ll startle off like a hurt animal, “Just let me-" A hand comes up to Morgie’s face, softly sweeping a few stray hairs back into the shellacked style he tends to keep it in. “There, that’s better,” she hums, smile laying sweetly on her lips as she backs away, returning to  her former spot as she holds the camera back up. Angling it back to his face and twisting the focus ever so slightly. A lip slipping between her teeth to mask her prideful smirk as she realizes the boy is suddenly a twinge more pink than he was when she first went to take his photo, but what was it she said? Pink goes good with green, doesn’t it? She smiles to herself, letting the shutter of the camera click as she captures that boyish smile and his freshly fixed hair eternally. 

    “Okay, I want to take one more, do you want to do a different pose?” He hums, propping a leg up against the wall and bringing a hand to rest on the back of his neck, the other settling on his stomach. “How’s this?” It earns him another one of those bubbly giggles, the girl softly shaking her head, “If you’re going to pose like that, your face better give me attitude, le Fay.” “Oh, I have attitude, don’t you worry about that.” With dramatics he’s tossing his scarf over his shoulder, giving her a once over with a cheeky smirk on his lips, as if he knows he's being outrageously flamboyant. Then the boy lets his face fall to a smolder but from the glint in his eyes, you can feel the way he’s trying not to laugh, something about the mix is nearly intoxicating and (Y/n) finds herself taking two pictures of it, one of him smoldering and one when the dam finally breaks and he can’t stop himself from laughing. His posture falling to be so relaxed as he leans, hand on his stomach coming to clutch it as if that will help him recollect himself, and he just looks beautiful. She can’t help but question if it would be weird of her to ask if she could keep this one for herself. Just a little memory for the road, right? 

   “Alright,” he’s catching his breath as he reaches an arm out to her, “It’s my turn, give me my camera.” She slides the strap off of her neck as she approaches him, handing it back as she turns to take his former place against the wall. “And if I had to give attitude, you better be able to bring it, (Y/n).” Both teens share this cheesy smile for a moment, then Morgie winks, and backs away from her, “I’m serious, you better pose for me.” 

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

    When they first got this assignment, any time that Morgie didn’t spend with his friends or in required yearbook committee meetings, he was with (Y/n). Answering questions about his mom and her legacy for (Y/n)’s half of the work for their magic spread or eventually, just letting himself exist in her presence. Watching movies or reading trashy tabloids together while they did a face mask. Whatever kept him in her presence worked for him. They made an unlikely duo, Morgie was well aware of that, but something about her made him feel at peace. As if he was safe with her. But that was January and February, when deadlines didn’t hang over them as if threatening to fall and crush them. Now as flowers begin to take up every bush on campus and the snow is finally gone, meetings have doubled and Morgie can’t seem to find enough time outside of the dark room. Or if he does manage to get out of the dark room -and not have plans with the other villains- (Y/n) is too busy hunched over a type writer or a notepad for him. Considering he didn’t know how he felt about her two months ago, he seemed oddly lonely without her presence. 

    To say that Morgie got too attached would be the understatement of the year. Through every bubbling giggle and gentle brush of her fingers the sorcerer went from being unsure about her to absolutely infatuated with her. She felt safe, of course he craved that, but there was something else. Something intoxicating about her that he couldn’t help but to crave. Morgie should be embarrassed, he shouldn’t feel this way about her at all, and yet, all he can think about is asking her to the end of the year formal. About a pink tie with his dark suit and a sparkling gown accompanying her glowing complexion. There was nothing to take his mind off of it when he was alone in the dark room like he was now, and he knew better than thinking about his friends like that. At least, he thinks that she’s his friend. The boy shakes his head, as if the motion can clear his thoughts, hanging up the last of the photos that needs to develop so it can dry. He needed to get out of the dark room, maybe go find Hook or someone else who could occupy the quiet spot in his mind.

    He doesn’t expect anyone to be in Madam Jinx’s room when he slips through the door, but to say the sorceress standing over that table was a disappointment would be a lie. He smiles, idling up behind her to peer over her shoulder, eyes flickering over her late night work. Pictures of the two of them are laid out around her, as well as her paragraphs on both of their mothers and what a sorcerer is. She’s moving the slips of paper seemingly aimlessly around the scrap book paper in front of her, the pages a muted yellow tone that matched the rest of that year’s "Excalibur" to a t. “What are you doing in here this late?” He keeps his voice soft, careful not to scare her as he lets his hands come to rest on either side of his friend. Effectively trapping her between himself and the surface before her. (Y/n) slightly jumps at the sound of his voice, taking in a sharp inhale as she does. “Don’t scare me like that.” He whispers a sorry in her ear, leaning over her shoulder to look at the pages. 

    “Try alternating the pictures and the bodies of text, and put the explanation of what a sorcerer is over the top of both pages.” She hums, tilting her head as she picks up the pieces just to drop them back down again, “Show me?” Morgie picks up the picture of him smiling, just to move it aside and grab the picture of him smoldering. “First of all, I look better in this one,” there’s a teasing tone hanging off of his words as he places the photo a centimeter away from the outer edge of the left piece of scrapbook paper. Next, shifting the writing about Morgana over until it’s about two centimeters from the inner edge, the words lower down as to avoid any overlap. He does the opposites with her pictures and the information about Glinda, leaving an open space between their two photos with either body of text next to one another. Finally, he takes the paragraph on what a sorcerer was, letting it fall between their pictures, “There, how’s that?”

   He leans a little further off of her as he speaks, watching as she tilts her head from side to side, taking it in. Then, with that picture perfect smile but no warning she turns on her toes to face him, making Morgie suddenly deeply aware of how close the two of them happen to be. She doesn’t pay it any mind though, smiling up at him with a hand slipping onto his cheek, “Morgie le Fay, you might just be a genius, do you know that?” He's not sure if it's the praise or the physical contact, but suddenly he can’t seem to control himself. Not with the way she’s smiling at him and the feeling of her soft palm against his face. Morgie finds himself leaning into her lips, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses her. The motion is soft and gentle and just as he realizes what he’s doing, he goes to pull away. (Y/n) starts kissing back though, her other hand coming up to his neck and pulling him ever so slightly closer, effectively keeping the boy against her lips. He’s still the first to pull away though, eyes fluttering open as he looks down at her flustered little smile and half lidded eyes. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I-” But she laughs, cutting him off as she softly rubs his cheek with a smile, “It’s just like I told you Morgie, pink goes good with green.”

[druidrot]

Okay 1 and 13 from the sultry prompts list feel VERY Gale to me, if that inspires you at all!

Your honor, based on provided evidence the jury has come to the conclusion that Gale Dekarios is indeed guilty of being a munch. Not actual smut but like pretty damn suggestive. It borders on it. It’s dirty. Don’t talk to me 😭😭

Real talk I’m sorry this has sat in my drafts for so long. Anon, you deserve better but work has been draining lately and tonight for some reason was the night my mind decided to work. Anyways muah i love u thank u for requesting, i hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x Reader

Prompts:

1. A kiss to the thigh

13. You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me.

Rating: Explicit - MDNI

warnings: foreplay, like lots of it. this came out a lil worship-y but gale is a fucking loser and I’m so weak to that shit. i say that with the most love but 😭😭. allusions to good ole’ cunillingus babey!

unsure of the word count

Gale takes his time tonight.

There is no urgency in his actions, no desperation–just pure, unadulterated adoration. His hands are gentle against your skin, soft, like too much pressure might shatter you like glass. He is resolute though, driven, unyielding in the face of his desire for you. He knows exactly how to touch you; he knows exactly where to touch you. It's like your body was made to be known by him, to be loved by him.

You sit comfortably in the big armchair he has nestled in his study, legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. He is kneeled before you like a man devoted; like a man pious, besotted and yearning for you . He looks so very hungry when he turns his gaze up to meet yours, though his smile is soft, beckoning, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You answer his smile with one of your own, smoothing a hand through his hair as he begins to creep his hands under your dressing gown.

"I will never tire of this," he murmurs, reverent, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your knee. "I will always be starved for you, my star. I will never have enough; there will never be enough to satiate the hunger you inspire.”

You can’t help the silly, lovesick grin that pulls at your lips. To you, he is breathtaking in his want for you, unabashed and proud. You love the way he loves you, so fully, so complete, like this is what the two of you were made to do together. It is intense, all-encompassing, makes your insides twist and turn.

“You spoil me rotten,” you whisper, all sweet smile laced with heavy-handed desire. “I burn for you, Mr. Dekarios. You make me ache.”

He offers a punched-out sound, a chuckle, and his molten eyes darken in the heat of his want. His kisses grow heavy, then, hot where they land on your skin, teasing where they trail up and up and up…

“You are my renewal and ruin all at once,” he breathes, sticky with need. “I am lost to you, my darling. Eternally lost to you.”

You mewl, tangling your fingers in his chestnut hair. “Show me, my love. Show me how you love me.”

He grins a wickedly handsome smile, pressing another hard kiss to the soft flesh of your thigh. He bites down gently, teasingly, basking in the sultry moan that rumbles in your chest.

“Gale,” you urge, pleadingly. “Let me see how lost you are. Let me see what I do to you.”

He squeezes the flesh of your opposite thigh, tongue laving over the little indents his teeth left in your skin. His eyes are sharp, heavy with lust, and you think you might drown in their depths forever.

“How desperate you are,” he teases, hands now moving to push the fabric at your hips up higher and higher. You can only sink further into his touch as his intentions become clear.

“You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me,” he muses, eyes locked on your pleading gaze. “I sometimes forget how eager you are to have me. But no matter, my star. I will happily oblige your desire to be tasted.”

You can only gasp, body pliant, mind foggy, already drunk on him as you surrender to the heat of his mouth.