#but first i need him to tremble like a leaf just from a kiss.

[sistersofsilver]

(tapping mic) hey, do yall wanna think about how touchstarved moros might be. hes literally doom, and he's guardian to the fates who are notoriously constantly busy with their hands. hello. can anyone hear me. does anyone else want to think about his reaction to melinoë touching him. hello. he hasnt seen his siblings' bar nemesis, particularly often. whens the last time he saw his mother. we know there's no chance in hell that mans been in any sort of previous romantic relationship. much less any sexual one. is anyone fucking in here. hello.

[giamee]

𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 '𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐎𝐓!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🍭 )

he just can't get enough of your pussy !

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | 🚨🚨🚨SMUT !! (f!reader receiving oral & fingering), uhhh pussydrunk hsr men who are MUNCHES <3, i think this is the first time writing smut on this blog so hereee we gooo, uhh clit slapping (only once thanks blade), overstim, nothin toooo crazy, ever so slight dom!reader for sampo (that man needs to get topped so bad) + you call him a pervert idk, squirting (shoutout luocha 😙)

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ I HAVENT WRITTEN SMUT IN AGESSSS SO PLS BE NICE AND TO MY MUTUALS SORRY THT THIS SHOWS UP ON YOUR DASHBOARD LETS STILL BE FRIENDS PLS 😭

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 JING YUAN.

this is a dangerous game when he's involved

as a general, jing yuan is very accustomed to being in charge, of taking charge and ensuring that things happen

and as a man who cares more about the hours outside of his work than during, who can blame him for wanting to commemorate each time that he comes home to you?

he's always been very giving as a lover, that much is true. and as a man with a tendency to be more on the... spontaneous side, you were no stranger to a quickie in a slightly less than convenient location. he just couldn't bear to leave you uncared for, after all.

so really, you should have expected that he would quite literally stoop to this level. one minute he was walking through the front door, you calling out a greeting to him from the sink as you washed some dishes.

and the next minute, he was on his knees behind you, your skirt flipped up over your hips and panties tugged to the side as he began to eat you out with some type of renewed fervour.

it had you slapping one hand over your mouth, the other white-knuckled as you hold on for dear life to the kitchen counter. your legs were very quickly turning to jelly due to his ministrations, the feeling of his tongue fucking into you rendering you unable to form sentences.

and even worse than the sensation was the sound of it- every lick and slurp reverbating through the empty room, every squelch of your pussy making you go a shade darker as jing yuan moaned, the bastard, and delved even further into your pussy. your hips pushed against him, his hands snaking their way around your thighs to keep you pinned in place while he ate you out like his life depended on it.

you bit back a squeal as you felt his tongue flick against your clit before running back through your folds, circling the hole before fucking back into you.

"fuck, i love this pussy so much," he moaned out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he came up for air momentarily. "love comin' home to you every day- you taste so good, so good f'me-"

any attempts at muffling your noises were extinguished as you let out a sob, tears welling up from the pleasure, making you fold over so that your torso rested against the counter. your legs were spread wide by now, giving jing yuan all the access that he needed.

he relinquished one of your thighs in favour of using his fingers to pump into you, curling them just right against that spongy spot that had you shaking like a leaf, feeling the pressure build inside you much quicker than you anticipated.

"fuck- fuck- i can't, 's so good-" you were babbling now, trying in vain to break free or push his head away, the pleasure bordering on too much. it was comically easy how ineffective your attempts to hinder him were,

"you can." his voice was some soothing reprieve, and the warmth of his hands squeezing against your hips helped to ground you as he otherwise brought you to the edge.

your thighs were trembling, barely supporting your weight and you could feel your release fast approaching, though something was holding you back.

"cum f'me." jing yuan's rasped voice is what finally coaxed you to let go, to let that string snap with a final cry as you collapsed fully against the countertop.

always diligent, jing yuan continued to eat you out, making sure not to miss a drop as you spasmed against him, hips finally stilling after you ride out your high.

"bastard." your voice is muffled, head resting on your forearms as your regain your strength. jing yuan merely chuckles, placing a kiss with his wet lips to your inner thigh again, one last jolt of pleasure running through you before he stands, fixing your clothes for you.

"but you love it."

you give him a halfhearted kick in the shin.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 SAMPO.

he's the type of man who's best in small doses

the amount of times you get annoyed while he's on another tangent or trying to scam you sell you a product is..... a bit more than infrequent

but there's ways around that

"sampo, do you ever shut up?"

ironically enough, you asking him that made him do just that, pausing for a second to lick his lips as his smile widened, cheshire-like, as you watched the cogs turn in his head.

"no, but for a small standalone price-"

if youuu put a buck in my cup i will shut the fuck up (sorry)

"sampo."

the man cackles, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to his side.

"sorry, doll, but a man has to make a living somehow."

you turn to glare at him now. you really weren't in the mood.

"either shut up or i'll make you."

you watch as his smile drops for just a second, his pupils dilating ever so slightly at the underlying hint of what's to come. and bless his heart, the man decided to push his luck.

approximately five minutes later, you were grinding on his face. the only noises that he really made now were occasional grunts and moans as you rocked back and forth, and you decided that you liked him much better when he wasn't talking.

the man with a silver tongue had his uses, after all.

he was so eager to please, too- from what you could tell with the way he was eating you out. if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling, you would be convinced that he was enjoying it more than you. his moans reverberated around your clit as his tongue flicked over and sucked it, leaving you keeling over and your thighs quaking against the sides of his head.

every moan you let out had him eating you out with a renewed fervour, almost desperate for you to reach your high. you let your hand snake into his hair, getting a full handful before yanking on it, hard. sampo whines from the sensation, and you almost miss the muffled plea for you to do it "again".

his fingertips are digging into your thighs almost painfully, keeping you seated firmly against him (not that you were going to move, anyway).

your eyes land on the tent in his boxers, and an idea pops into your head as you snake your hand past his abdomen to pull his waistband down, letting his cock spring free. it looked painfully hard, the tip already leaking pearls of precum, and you spat in your hand before starting to jerk him off, ever so slowly.

he whined again at the pressure, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand, desperate for any sort of friction.

"you're getting off to this, you pervert?" you laughed as he shook his head desperately, still plunging his tongue deep inside you even as his hips bucked wildly. he was already so close, it almost made you laugh.

you yourself were beginning to feel the coil deep within you start to tighten, a telltale sign that your own orgasm was approaching.

"so if i were to just... stop, you wouldn't mind?" to emphasise your point, you loosened your grip on him, grinning to yourself as he whined pathetically.

"hm... that's what i thought."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 BLADE.

blade's mean when he eats you out

he's one of those who eats it for his own pleasure, and whether it's until you orgasm once or multiple times, he's not stopping until he's satisfied, overstimulation be damned

"you still alive there?" the man between your thighs snickers at your fucked-out state, not even able to form a sentence to answer him.

how many times had he made you cum by now? six? seven? you'd lost count long ago, and you don't think it mattered much to blade. sometime after the second one, it began to dawn on you that his goal wasn't to simply make you cum then call it a day.

"c'mon, eyes on me." you squeal at the sensation of his hand slapping down against your clit, the raw flesh stinging for a few moments before his hand smooths it over, soothing the skin.

"you can handle one more, right?" you lift your head weakly to meet his ravenous eyes, somehow even hungrier than when he had first started peeling your clothes off. the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your skin, and you gave him a sheepish nod.

"attagirl."

blade's one to keep you on your toes, never knowing just what to expect from him. he ducks his head down, leveling it with your still pulsing hole, and you gasp as you hear, then feel him spit on it.

there's a blunt intrusion as he sinks two of his fingers into you, knuckles deep, crooking them just right to hit that spot inside you. your leg twitches as an automatic response, making the man snicker again.

"you're so sensitive," he coos, and you hide your embarrassed face with your arm. "i bet if i just..." your body seizes up as you cum, again, more sudden than you ever expected as blade presses harder against you. a strangled moan flies out of your mouth, writhing at the pressure.

he's nice enough to let you ride out your high, pathetically grinding your clit against his palm, whimpering at the tenfold sensitivity and the little aftershocks wracking your body.

and when you're finally breathing normally again, you hear his voice break you out of your stupor.

"one more?"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

what he lacks in experience is made up for doubly in enthusiasm

because let's be real, this man is too busy with the silvermane guards to have enough time to be dating and fucking around

but for you? he'd make the time. and he'd learn how to get you off while he's at it, too

"so if you just, slide your fingers in, slowly." gepard follows your instructions dutifully, and even then you still winced at the feeling of his large fingers stretching you out, the slightest of burns already kicking in.

"like this?" he looks up at you, all puppy dog eyes, so eager to learn. his face was too innocent for what he was doing.

"mhmm." you smile down at him, his face rested against one of your thighs as his gaze returns to your cunt, glued to the way it stretches around his digits. he feels you pulse against him and he shudders, trying to hold back for your sake. he was here to learn what you liked, after all.

"and then you kind of... curl them a bit? and move them too." his ministrations are soft to begin with, and even there's still an unmistakeable squelch each time he pumps his fingers into you, the lewdness of it all making him turn pink.

"does that feel good?"

"y-yeah, so good, baby."

he's so close to your pussy, you can feel each time he breathes, his little pants hitting your clit, making you even wetter. the anticipation of it all had you practically squirming where you lay propped up on your elbows, watching him.

his eyes are still transfixed on you, mouth hanging open at the way your hips rolled ever so slightly, meeting each of his shallow thrusts.

"you see that bit above? if you lick it, it'll feel really good f'me." gepard nods, all too eagerly leaning forward, licking a thick stripe from your hole to the clit with his tongue, before starting to flick his tongue against it gingerly.

"yeah, fuck, you're good at this." he hums against you, starting to move his tongue with a little more fervour, his hand still pumping into you. he always had been a fast learner.

he settles into a rhythm, one that has you steadily building the pressure in your core, soft moans escaping your lips.

"just like that, fuuuck," you pant out, letting your head roll back and your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling. it's then when gepard decides to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking ever so deliciously to make your toes curl.

you let out a particularly loud moan at the sensation, one that your ever so perceptive boyfriend latches onto, increasing the pressure in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"geppie m'gonna cum- don't stop-" he obeys your every word, slurping at your cunt with a hunger that sends you over the edge. you convulse, hips raising off of the mattress to buck against his face, his fingers curling around your quaking thighs.

"use my face, darling," he murmurs into you, so eager to please. the way the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit helps you ride out your high, grinding against his mouth a few more times before you finally flop back down against, the bed, limbs turning to jelly.

"no fucking way that was your first time eating someone out." gepard merely grins, wiping some of your juices off of his face before crawling up the bed to meet you.

"'m sure it was, now give me a kiss."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUOCHA.

your life will be CHANGED after this man eats u out for the first time i just know it

like.. he's got skills. he's a certified munch i know this in my SOULLLLL

"just relax, honey, let me take care of you." his velveteen voice is what has you finally lying back, letting the tension in your body leave you as his nimble fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, sliding them off of your legs ever so tantalisingly.

he groans at the string of slick that stays connected to them- no surprises there as you had been sat on his lap kissing him for the past half an hour- and you covered your face in embarrassment.

"don't go shy on me now, hm?" you peek between your fingers, catching the glint of his emerald eyes, the way his smile widens when he makes eye contact with you from his place between your legs.

"hi, pretty."

"hi."

"we can go as slow as you want, okay? tell me what you're comfortable with." luocha's thumbs rub gentle circles into your thighs, coaxing you to open them and let him settle more comfortably.

"do you want me to touch you?" you nod, watching as luocha's smirks almost imperceptibly.

"use your words, darling." you whine, kicking at him lightly.

"quit teasing me."

"do you want my fingers or my tongue?"

"luocha!" he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.

"i'm sorry, love, you're just so cute when you're flustered." he presses another kiss to your thigh now, lips inching upwards ever so slowly, holding himself back as he waits for your go-ahead.

"could you... eat me out?" your face feels so warm just from asking the question, but the nerves are quelled as luocha smiles brightly, shifting his weight on his hips to lower himself down closer to you.

"gladly."

there's a few seconds of anticipation, of his breath hitting your core before another entirely new sensation- something wet and muscled sliding against you as luocha licks a flat stripe through your slit. his tongue sharpens, flicking against your clit as he pulls away after his experimental first taste.

you're already feeling something inside you coil in anticipation, and it tightens even more at the blissed out expression on luocha's face.

"you taste divine, my love."

and then he's delving in for more. your usually so composed boyfriend lying flat on his stomach, buried facefirst in your pussy and eating it like a man starved.

the slurping and squelching noises are obscene, echoing off of the walls and filling up the room along with your wails and moans. your head was in the clouds right now, too fucked out to even scream his name. and he hadn't even put his tongue in yet.

as if reading your mind, luocha finally shifts his attention to your hole, his tongue circling it, teasing it open, before he plunges in along with his fingers, the size of them and his fingertips grazing against your g spot bringing you to the verge of tears.

everything just felt so good, and he was going to make you cum hard and fast.

the regular pressure of an impeding orgasm kept building up, more than it regularly would, until it became an entirely new sensation altogether.

"w-wait, baby, i'm gonna pee or something-"

luocha pauses, pupils blown wide with lust as he meets your gaze.

"you're not, honey, just trust me, alright?"

and because it's him, because you'd do just about anything for him right now if it meant continuing to feel this good, you lie back down, feeling him bring you back to that point again.

his fingers are drilling into you at an almost inhuman pace, the sound enough to make you cum, let alone the sensation. his soft lips suction around your clit, warm tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you squeal and throw your head back.

"'m gonna-" luocha nods encouragingly, his nose bumping against your clit in a way that has your vision go white as you writhe in ecstasy. there's an odd feeling, of something shooting out of you, and you look down to see a spray of clear liquid. luocha's fingers rub against your pusy frantically, making you writhe again, prolonging your orgasm as he milks you for every last drop.

you finally come back down to earth, vaguely feeling a warm wet cloth wipe away at you, at the mess you had made.

and luocha's gazing at you with nothing but adoration, a pussydrunk smile on his lips.

"aren't you glad you trusted me, love?"

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

[little-diable]

Drunken Minds Sober Hearts - Dean Winchester (smut)

We love a good friends to lovers fic, especially with Dean, don't we? Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Drunk off her face the reader told Dean, her best friend, that she hasn't slept with anybody because she wants him to be her first. But will she admit to that when she's sober too?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of virginity, outdoor, oral (f), friends to lovers

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)

The cold breeze teased her arms, leaving (y/n) shuddering with her back pressed to the blanket and her eyes focused up ahead. Even though Dean emanated enough warmth to make her feel his closeness, deep down she knew that she wasn’t trembling like a leaf because of the cold, but because of the awfully intimate touch this moment had to it.

No words were spoken between the two as they kept staring at the night sky, trying to count the stars that were twinkling for them only—or at least that’s what it felt like. She felt Dean’s hand close to hers, about to touch, about to interlace their fingers, and yet neither of them dared to cross the distance between them just yet.

Dean had asked her hours ago if she trusted him and if he could take her somewhere to distract them from past hunts and exhausting weeks. And who was she to say no to Dean Winchester—her best friend, her better half, her one true love—even though he knew nothing of the feelings she harbored for him.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you.” Dean cleared his throat, letting his head roll towards her as he spoke. She didn’t reply, only looked at him as she waited for him to continue.

“I don’t think you remember much of Saturday night. But you said something to me, something I can’t stop thinking of.” Heat rose to her face as Dean’s words began to sink in. Saturday night hadn’t been her proudest moment; with too many shots poured down her throat, she had eventually lost control, blabbering away things she now couldn’t remember.

“Is it true that you haven’t allowed anybody to touch you because you want me to be your first?” She choked on her breath, having to sit up to try and let some air flood through her aching lungs. Her body was burning up in embarrassment while she made a silent promise to never drink again. She felt Dean’s hand on her back, softly rubbing circles on the fabric of her sweater as she tried to calm down.

“Did I really say that?” (Y/n) couldn’t look at her best friend and was trying to figure out how she could get the ground to open up and swallow her whole. But before she could even begin to plan her escape, Dean’s hand had found her chin, tilting it up for her to look at him.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Her words got stuck in her throat as Dean’s thumb found her mouth, carefully pulling her lower lip from the grasp her teeth had on the thin skin. Both looked at one another as if they could read each other’s minds, deciphering every emotion flushing through their systems, emotions that urged their movements as Dean’s lips found hers.

Dean didn’t allow her to break away as he pulled her into his lap, slowly feeling (y/n) relax in his grasp. Her arms found their way around his neck, getting lost in a kiss both had only imagined but never dared to speak of. The kiss was slow, allowing both to adjust to the sensation and yet it was urged on by their longings and fears, by whatever had managed to hold them back for the past years. 

“I need you to be honest with me, sweetheart. Was it the truth?” Dean murmured his words against her slightly swollen lips. His hands kept a tight grasp on her, fingertips running along the seam of her sweatshirt, about to disappear beneath the thick fabric. 

“It is the truth, and I’m sorry for drunkenly dumping that on you.” She tried to look away, tried to focus on anything but Dean, but the hunter’s grasp only grew tighter, not daring to let her go. Another kiss was pressed against her lips, a kiss that drew a soft moan from (y/n), a sound that gave Dean the needed push to flip them around. Their eyes held contact as Dean hovered over her, admiring every part of her frame. 

“We shouldn’t do this out here, you deserve a bed, something comfortable.” The concern dripping from Dean’s words left (y/n) chuckling, she pulled him back down for a kiss, and let her legs wrap around his waist to feel his growing erection against her covered heat. Both moaned in unison from the new friction this movement offered, a sensation so addicting, (y/n) knew there was no way to ever let go of Dean again. 

“I don’t need a bed, Dean. I just want you, and to be honest, something boring isn’t our style anyway, is it?” His chuckles vibrated through her body as Dean kissed his way down her throat, letting his hands pull her sweater up to her chest. The groan that clawed through him was raspier than any sound she had heard before, allowing her eyes to wander over his handsome features while his eyes focused on her naked, braless chest. 

“You’re fucking beautiful, (y/n).” No longer did she feel the cold breeze stroking her, no longer did she pick up on the whispers warning her of the way she’d lose herself tonight. All (y/n) could focus on was Dean, the man who had always owned her heart, the man she’d give her life for. 

(Y/n)’s head rolled back as his lips found her naked chest, sucking on one hardening nub while his free fingers took care of the other. Dean wanted to comment on how perfectly she fit into his hands, how it felt as if she had been created for him only, but his words got stuck in his throat as his middle moved against hers again, creating just enough friction for the both of them. 

“Can I taste you? Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” Dean’s whispers left (y/n) choking on her gasps, unable to reply with any words. All she could do was shoot him an eager nod while raising her hips for Dean to pull her jeans down her legs. Once again, a growl managed to break out of Dean, a sound that forced (y/n) to drown in the different sensations she was held hostage by. 

“You’re soaked, baby.” The comment drew a whine from (y/n), she had to grasp the blanket, had to find something to hold onto before she’d grow too eager, needing to feel whatever Dean could offer her. 

His warm fingers pushed her soaked panties aside, he gave himself a few moments to study her, hoping that he could burn this very image into his mind – forever remembering it as if he were a blind man being offered his sight back for only a handful of seconds. And for that, he’d always choose (y/n), studying the woman he felt deeply connected to. 

Dean’s tongue brushed against her pulsing bundle, leaving (y/n) moaning. He ate her out with an unfamiliar kind of urgency, offering her a glimpse into what was awaiting her. Heaven – the pearly gates – or simply the love both couldn’t deny any longer.

Whatever it was, it pushed her closer towards Dean, hearts and souls connected. 

“Dean,” (y/n) sobbed his name as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, letting them curl against the swollen spot he instantly managed to find. With her back arched off the blanket, and her thighs quivering, (y/n) forced her eyes back up to the night sky. She needed to focus on something else, keeping herself from giving in way too quickly. 

She had never allowed another man to touch her like this, deep down she had been too stuck on the possibility of Dean loving her, holding onto the thinnest thread of hope that had been close to snapping – a thread that now got woven into a thick rope, unable to ever snap apart. 

Her shaking fingers found his hair, tugging on the roots to draw a raspy groan from Dean, a sound that forced her gaze back down to him. And as they looked at one another, pupils filled with love, adoration, and longing, (y/n) felt herself being pushed over the edge. She came with a cry, had to squeeze her eyes shut to hold onto this feeling, the blinding sensation that had never felt this strong when she had touched herself to the thought of Dean. 

“Jesus, Dean. What even was that?” The sound of his chuckles echoed through the night. He moved up her body to find her lips for a kiss, letting their tongues tangle as she tasted herself on the strong muscle. Her hands disappeared beneath his shirt, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. 

“Only the beginning, sweetheart.” He let go of her to undo his belt before reaching for his wallet to pull a condom free. She took it from his grasp while he freed his twitching cock from the confines of his trousers, staring down at (y/n) whose eyes had that special twinkle to them. His heart swelled in his chest at the mere sight of her, grateful that he finally got a chance to express his feelings, to leave his anxiety behind – all so he could love her the way she deserved to be loved. 

Their eyes held contact as she rolled the condom down his aching length with shaking fingers, as she laid back down on the blanket, and as Dean positioned himself at her entrance. 

“Tell me if it hurts too much, I’ll be careful.” (Y/n)’s arm found its way around his neck to pull Dean down for a kiss. The second their lips met, he pushed into her, drawing a pained whimper from her. He held still for a moment, allowing her to adjust before he kept on moving, sinking further into her tightness. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You feel so good, baby.” Dean’s gritty voice left her walls clenching around him, wordlessly begging him for more. With his weight shifted onto his forearm, Dean started moving quicker, adding more strength to his thrusts to draw the sweetest moans from (y/n). 

“Don’t stop, don’t ever stop touching me, Dean.” She sobbed her words as her fingernails began leaving crescent shapes on his neck. (Y/n)’s thighs quivered around his waist, she was torn between all different sensations, unsure what to focus on, while her second orgasm was close to flushing through her all too quickly. 

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock.” His command left (y/n) gasping, forcing her eyes back up towards Dean’s green ones. The smirk playing on his lips was enough to leave her sweating in need while feeling him buried oh so deep inside of her. She rubbed her pulsing bundle with quick movements, set on pushing herself over the edge while Dean fucked her into the blanket. 

“Dean,” his name left her lips like a prayer, in desperate need of guidance, unsure what to do with the massive wave of emotions which were about to flush through her. And with another whine leaving her, (y/n) came for Dean, allowing him to watch her unfold right in front of his eyes. He kept fucking her, didn’t want to give in before he had managed to push her through the intense sensation, only as she relaxed beneath him did Dean finally give in with her name leaving him. 

“Promise to hold onto me forever, Dean.” (Y/n) panted the words with a smile glued to her lips. Her fingers brushed through his hair, desperate to keep on feeling every part of him. 

“Let the stars be my witnesses, I promise to love you till the day I die, sweetheart.”

[hoernypie]

He's late buying you a gift (」＞＜)」

|He'll come back, he'd never leave you because he loves you so so sooo much!|

tags: they don't matter today wc: idc, let's cope

Satoru, running late, found himself in a high-end jewelry store. Scouring the display cases for something that screamed 'perfect gift', he realized time was ticking.

As the seconds stretched into what felt like hours, Satoru's heart raced, knowing he was being unforgivably late. His eyes darted from diamond necklaces to sapphire rings, searching for the ideal symbol of his love. Finally, a delicate pendant caught his gaze, reminiscing the one he gave you before you two shared the first kiss under a fall’s sky. It was as if fate had led him to it, just like it did previously to you. "I'll take this one," he exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency. With a nod of understanding, the saleswoman swiftly wrapped the necklace in luxurious velvet and placed it in a sleek black box. The anticipation grew palpable, each second seemingly bringing him closer to the moment he could finally put an end to the tormenting doubt that had plagued him since he got back to his body. Would you forgive him for going with a plan like that? Would you be mad? Most importantly, would you still love him? “Stupid,” he murmured to himself knowing you’d love him forever - no matter what. 

Rushing home, Satoru's thoughts swirled with excitement. The cool evening air brushed against his cheeks as he weaved through the bustling street, the delicate box nestled in his pocket like a secret treasure. His heart hammered in his chest, matching the rhythm of his hurried footsteps. His heart was pounding as he approached the home that held the answers to his fears. As he pushed the gate open, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. Finally, he stood in front of the door, squeezing the box with the pendant in hand, ready to face you. He paused for a moment, a silent plea to the universe for everything to go right. Then, with trembling fingers, Satoru knocked, the sound echoing through the hall inside like a declaration of love and hope.

As the door swung open, there you stood, the soft glow of the hall lights framing your surprised yet delighted face. Time seemed to freeze for an eternity, the only movement the soft rustle of the curtains dancing in the gentle evening breeze. Then, in a burst of unbridled joy, you leaped into Satoru's arms, showering him with kisses that seemed to wash away the weight of his guilt and doubt. The gift was forgotten in the heat of the moment as your embrace grew tighter, your cries bubbling up like a celebration of his life. His heart soared, feeling lighter than it had in days. He kissed you back with fervor, the world outside the door fading into a blur of insignificance as the two of you reveled in the warmth of each other's arms.

After a moment that stretched into an eternity of your kisses, you finally pulled away, laughing with delight as you playfully slapped Satoru's cheek. "Punctual as always," you teased, your eyes sparkling with tears. "What's with the late arrival, Mr. Gojo?" Satoru chuckled nervously, "I got a little… distracted," he said, the words trailing off as he held up the small black box. "I wanted to get you something special," he added, a hopeful smile playing on his lips. “You know that I only need you,” you smile gently caressing his cheek, “Don’t ever scare me like that, understood?”

Satoru's smile grew as he watched your eyes fill in love while looking at him. He took a step carefully opening the box, revealing the delicate fall-leaf pendant that gleamed under the soft light. "It's beautiful," you whispered, reaching for it with a trembling hand. "It's similar to the one I lost," you added, your voice filled with wonder and nostalgia. Satoru nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he gently clasped the necklace around your neck. "I had to find a way to bring back the memory of that perfect moment," he said, his voice thick with emotion. The touch of the cool metal against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and as you looked into the mirror, the reflection of the pendant swaying gently, you felt a warmth in your heart that transcended time and space. "Thank you," you murmured, leaning in to kiss him again. The air was charged with love and deep affection as you both knew that this small token was not just a gift, but a promise of a shared life, filled with moments as precious as the first kiss under the fall leaves.

[just-jordie-things]

Hi! Idk if ur still doing the kiss prompts, but can I request number 65 for Inumaki? If ur not writing for the prompts anymore feel free to ignore this.

kiss prompt 65: one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other ___

"that was really stupid,"

you were a little upset.

"i mean, did you even fucking think? you're not an idiot. or maybe you are!"

you were a little more than upset.

toge could only sit on the cot of the cot in the infirmary, knowing no other help was coming to save him from your scolding, as it was the middle of the night and the place was pretty much abandoned at this time. it was only him and you. and you were storming around the place as you familiarized yourself with shoko's organization, trying to gather the supplies you needed to fix him up after an assignment gone awry.

he'd tried to assure you that he could tend to his own first aid, but you'd given him a sharp glare that told him to shut his mouth, sit down, and not argue.

"i've never seen something so reckless and so fucking pointless in my whole life," you're muttering as you slam cabinet doors and throw supplies one after another on the counter beside where toge sat. "you're lucky you're not dead, you know that?"

you don't look at him, despite his eyes following your every movement. you keep your head down, or you're too focused on finding something.

"salmon" he agrees quietly.

when you've finally gathered everything you needed to tend to the open gash on his arm, as well as the various smaller wounds covering his body, you walk back towards him. you still don't meet his eyes as you silently begin to soak a rag in rubbing alcohol. but he can see the deep frown pulling on your face.

he feels guilty- as well as a lot of pain- but the guilt sits heavier in his stomach. you have every right to be this angry with him. he had acted recklessly. but in his defense he'd been trying to protect you. the large slice on his shoulder would have been nothing compared to what would have happened had he not shoved you out of the way and taken the blow for himself.

you very well could've lost your head. and here you were fussing over a banged up arm that hurt now but would heal in a few weeks.

"this is really gonna hurt" you mumble before you began cleaning up the wound.

you're right, he hisses and shifts his weight around as you wipe away the excess blood and sterilize the wound as quickly as you can. you're just as uncomfortable seeing him in so much pain, and it makes your throat burn, but you keep yourself focused on cleaning him up to the best of your ability. you're no stranger to tending to wounds such as these.

you're still muttering in a scolding tone as you prep the needle. something about how much you hate doing stitches, how stupid he is for acting without thinking, how shoko should be the one here to fix him up, and toge takes it all with a grain of salt. even if he could speak, there wasn't anything he could say to ease your irritation.

but he hates it. he's seen you upset, but not like this, and never with him. his stomach churns with the discomfort of knowing you were so cross with him.

you warn him again before you begin stitching up the wound. but there's a hesitation in you as he braces himself, and he glances over to see that your hands are trembling. violently. your hands shake so much he's surprised you haven't dropped the needle, but you seem to have an iron grip on the small tool.

you still refuse to look at him, your eyes set hard on the wound that was going to start bleeding again if you didn't get your shit together.

"mustard leaf?" with his other hand, toge reaches towards you, tentatively resting his hand over yours, easing some of it's shake, but not completely. he still feels the tremors under his touch.

but almost as soon as he touches you, you're pulling your hand away from his grasp, letting out a long breath, and getting to work on stitching him up.

twelve stitches. you curse each one you knot up. twelve stitches that could've been avoided.

you're tying off the last one when he hears a small sound come from you that has him trying to get a better look at you, even though you're avoiding his gaze like the plague.

but then it happens again, a small choked sound comes from your throat and there's nothing you could do to cover it.

it was a whimper.

with furrowed brows, toge reaches for you again, this time firmly grabbing your hand. finally, you look up at him.

your eyes are filled with tears, and they're pouring down your cheeks in steady streams. his face contorts into one of unease, eyes flickering over your features in a hurried assessment to find what was wrong.

and when his hands began moving across your arms, trying to find where you were hurt, you shook your head, grabbing his wrists and moving them away before he could continue.

"i'm fine," you choke out, wiping the tears from your face. "it's you i'm worried about,"

his expression falls. you sniffle as you reach for the gauze on the counter, unrolling it a generous amount.

"it's just- just- why would you do that?" you mumble between quiet sobs. "you can't do that. you scared me, toge"

you're avoiding his eyes again, but he's staring at you with concern flooding his lavender eyes.

tears still fall off your lashes as you gingerly wrap the gauze around his arm. you've probably overdone it, but as the thought crosses your mind you give it two more loops, just to be secure.

when you're done, his hand catches yours again. you don't look at him. you shut your eyes and hang your head, wishing you had a stronger resolve than you did. you're still angry, but it's starting to melt into something else as reality settles in. had things gone worse... you don't want to think about it.

toge's other hand touches your chin, barely, but enough that you get the idea, and you look up at him again.

i'm sorry, he mouths the words out slowly so that he's sure you understood. you sigh, your shoulders falling heavy.

then he points to the bandage you'd applied, and you follow his gesture as he brings his finger to your clavicle, staring at you ardently, needing you to understand what he was trying to communicate.

for good measure, he drags the tip of his finger across the base of your neck, and then points again to the wound on his arm, and at you.

you sigh, shaking your head at his rough explanation. you pull his hand down away from you.

"that wouldn't have happened," you say quietly. "i had that under control, neither one of us would have"

"ikura" it's a curse, likely him calling bullshit. he tilts his head at you, staring at you with an expression you couldn't read as easily as you usually could.

"i'm sorry for yelling," you mumble. "i was just worried, that's all"

he gives you a small smile before shrugging his shoulders and shaking your head, likely trying to tell you he's fine. you huff, knowing fully well he was going to have a long night of pain and discomfort ahead of him still.

"salmon" he says with a reassuring smile.

you wince back at him.

he tugged on your hand, gently, but enough to make you shuffle forward. your face felt warmer the closer he drew you, pulling again and again until you're as close as he wanted you to be. your eyes are wide as they land on his, silently asking what he was doing, what he wanted.

his lips pull wider into a proper smile, and your gaze falls to the way a dimple forms in the center of the mark on his cheek. you have the urge to reach up and poke it, but you don't. there's a bruise that blooms too close to the spot, and you don't want to be the cause of anymore aching.

his fingertips touch your chin again, tilting your head until your eyes meet his again. you look forlorn, like you have a deep regret. he frowns at you as his index finger hooks under your chin.

"does it hurt?" you murmur quietly as your fingers tremble over his jaw.

toge shakes his head, a bold lie, everything hurts, but nothing about you could ever inflict pain on him.

he convinces you of this when he leans forward, only needing to move a small amount in order to touch his lips to yours.

you startle, remaining perfectly frozen before him at the new sensation. you and toge had always been very close, but you weren't kiss-each-other close. this was completely new, and unforeseen.

your eyes are still wide open when he pulls back all too soon, leaving the kiss chaste, and your lips tingling with the desire for more. even in that small, quick kiss, you understood him.

he gives you a small smile when he looks at you, as if cheekily asking if that made up for the stress he'd put you through tonight.

but you're already leaning back in, eyes falling shut this time as you slant your lips over his as though this wasn't a completely earth-shattering experience. he's still smiling against your mouth as you kiss him eagerly, trying to pour every last ounce of love and concern from your mouth into his.

your movements are gentle as you rest your hands over his shoulders, barely applying any pressure, too worried you'd catch a scrape or bruise in an unpleasant way. it makes your rushed series of kisses soft and sweet, but still you're breathing heavily by the time you pull away again, your forehead resting against his.

you'll scold him again later for being reckless. but for now you could share sweet smiles and sweeter kisses in between whispered confessions of fondness. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[zyafics]

ok dis a request and ik u already writing a lot but i gotta share my idea ok so what if, the reader writes like fanfics kinda IDK WHAT TO CQLL IT but they in her notebook and it smutty and ones about rafe, and the reader has to tutor him and hes snooping obviously and he finds the notebook👅 and he turned on bt it THAT WHAT I GOT SO FAR BUT 👅👅

i can’t definitely see this in a best friend’s brother’s scenario!

you’re the type of person who keep your emotions under locked and key. it almost makes you timid, quiet, and shy. people never understood how you—of all people—are best friends with sarah cameron, kook princess and ultimate extrovert on kildare. but you were.

you carried a notebook around you everywhere. it’s how you channel your thoughts and regulate your emotions. no one was allowed to see it—not even your best friend, who often catches you scribbling furiously into the pages after a dinnertime with her family. however, despite her adamant need to be nosy, she respects your privacy enough to not pry.

rafe doesn’t.

one night, after coming back from using the cameron’s shower, you catch rafe in sarah’s room, flipping through the pages of your journal languidly, as if he’s leafing through a magazine. your eyes widen, your heart racing, and you lunge across the room to knock the book out of his hands—but rafe is too quick.

he gives you that cocky smile, that knowing look that says he has a dirty secret about you. and he does. he says your name, dripping with feigned shock and scandalousness, and say, “didn’t know you were thinking about me this much.”

your face is full of embarrassment. all the little secrets and thoughts you had about rafe is exposed through layers of pages. the ones where you deluded yourself to thinking rafe might have something of a thing for you. where every accidental brush of his fingers against your hand when passing plates was accounted for—and meant something—and wet dreams you concocted while spending the night at sarah’s were documented, with rafe just a few doors down.

it’s mortifying.

“give it back,” you reach for the diary again, but rafe’s much taller. and he’s too entertained to let it slip from his grip.

“and return my favorite stories? not a chance,” he says, flipping through the pages until he ended up in a spot of his choice. there, he started reading your words—your dirty, stupid, and lustful words about rafe bending you over a table and fucking you roughly from behind.

you can’t do anything but stare in embarrassment. needing him to stop. wanting nothing more than to disappear. when he finishes the last line, the last sentence to your humiliating fantasy, rafe would lift his head up to meet your stare.

“this is practically porn.” he says.

and you know it is. but you refuse to let him make you feel ashamed about it.

“it’s not porn!” you argue, heat flushing your cheeks. “it’s a healthy outlet for my thoughts.”

he scoffs, but his head tilted with challenge. “i have an healthy outlet for thoughts.”

you still. at first, you thought he was mocking you, but his voice is light, and… daring. your eyes wander down his frame to see the tent in his pants.

is rafe turned on by you? turned on by this?

you didn’t know what to say. and you didn’t have to. because rafe crosses the distance you shared and captured you in a kiss. his hands wandering, the journal long forgotten. from there, he dragged you to his bed, locking the door and putting you in every filthy position you had ever dreamed of. bending you in all different ways.

and when you finished the night, breathless and sweaty, legs trembling with sensitivity, his cum dripping down your thighs, rafe whispers, “better than any fantasy, huh?”

because next time you had a thought, instead of scribbling it down like a daydream, you came straight to rafe to experiment.

trying this new thing of writing blurbs of requests like this… don’t know if i like it… let me know ur thoughts <3

[hey-august]

We all have already made the connection between detachable cock and sexytimes whenever you want, but let’s consider the opposite for a second.

Taking away Buggys dick for a while to rile him up, he gets it back after a few days away and you will make sure that Buggys basic needs are attended to, his hygiene will not be neglected… but you will not help him out whatsoever. Buggy, at sea, away from you, planning and scheming and doing whatever he does just a bit more on edge. Sometimes it’s manageable, sometimes he lays alone in bed at night and his mind wanders and he knows he’s hard right now, there’s no doubt about it, the images in his mind have gone straight to his dick and he would love nothing more than to relief himself… but he can’t. He just has to lay there alone… and be hard. Rubbing the chopped area of his pelvis helped a little at first, but now it just makes it worse and he’s whining and panting whenever his hands roughly knead the soft, smooth flesh down there, humping his pillow, taking a bucket of cold water and dousing himself of with it till his teeth are chattering, it’s the only way he can calm himself down enough before he gets back to sleep.

He’s ready to fuck you so hard you see stars when he gets back, till you forget your own name, till the only name you can remember is his…. But then you two go back to your quarters and you pull out a little, pretty box out of your drawer, sit down on the bed and tell him that you’re gonna unlock him now… but he’s gotta tell you all the naughty things he thought about while you were apart and that little command just throws him into subspace immediately. He’s on his knees, burying his face in your lap, babbling about how he wanted to fuck you so badly, how he wanted YOU to fuck him so badly, how he wanted you all over him and himself all over you in any and all positions, milking him dry till his voice is hoarse, bending you over the vanity and fucking you from behind till you’re screaming, just every little filthy thing he thought about and how desperate he was. „And you did so well. Go ahead, take it back and cum.“

And he just lasts about five feverish strokes before his delayed orgasm hits him like an ocean wave and he’s trembling like a leaf, putting his arms around your waist and hugging you even closer while you coo and pet his hair. Between feeling exposed and embarrassed, your soothing voice also makes him feel comforted and accepted and by god if that wasn’t one of the hottest things that ever happened to him in his life…. But also please let’s not do this for a while again and just have regular sex again when he’s recovered properly yes? Please don’t make him wait for longer than necessary okay?

Anon. Anon. I have been at a loss of words from this. You just show up and drop this delectable morsel and I just want to keep eating it 🤤

Rubbing the empty spot, hello?? Hell yes, absolutely. Maybe finding something phallic to hold there and jack off, hoping that the movement would give even a little relief.

And of course you'd take such good good care of your little captain. Holding it gently, nice warm water, sudsy bubbles, getting eeeeevery growing inch of it clean. Maybe a second scrub, just to be certain. A little kiss on the head before putting it back in the box.

Late at night, you hear something. Muffled thuds from a blunt object wishing it knew what to do. That it could do what it craved.

You might take a peek, wanting to see how pathetically hard and wet that pretty clown cock is. How it's dripping and glistening with precum. A swipe from your finger to get a taste and you could practically see his dick shiver.

Maybe one night you take matters into your own hands. Unfortunately, you finish faster than Buggy and he's left even more unsatisfied than usual.

The rest of him is feverish. Flushed and sweaty. His hands are shaking. His throat is dry. His teeth are chattering. There are tear streaks in his make-up. He was so fucking close. His balls ache so goddamn much.

You were all he could think about. You had consumed his mind, but not his body. Every little fucking thing reminded Buggy of you. And his lack of dick.

Drinking too fast and some liquid escapes his mouth? You struggling to swallow all the damn cum his heavy balls are holding right now.

Climbing the ship's rigging? Using the rope to tie you up and tease you until you're the one with tears and snot running down your face.

Polishing and sharpening his knives? Fuck, he wants to jack off so badly. Anything to break the constant horny hell he's living in.

All the frustrations and fantasies pour out of him when you two are finally together. You're finally here, filling his senses. It's like a dream come to life and all he can do is the one thing he's wanted - to come.

Buggy could not put into words how his incessant neediness heightened everything. How the delay in gratification made the very act of touching himself seem downright sinful. How he needed to orgasm almost as badly as he needed to breathe. How he hoped you would be pleased with each stream of cum that spilled from his swollen head and trembling fingers.

Yeah, this was fun. In a way. Too much to do again soon. Although, imagining coating you in all that cum. Pumping you so full that you're the one exploding and dripping... Well, maybe Buggy could be persuaded to let this happen again sooner than you think.

[linomilkers]

can u use a safe word with felix ?

yes :-)

[warnings: overstimulation, safe word use, aftercare]

Typically, Felix doesn't have a mean bone in his body.

He's sweet; he's a type of tender that Y/N has only ever known him to be. Clingy and soft, all gentle kisses to wake her up and careful hands brushing hair from her face. Felix doesn't ever even raise his voice at her, if they aren't playing around with each other. In bed he could be rough, but only when she wanted it, and only when she'd specifically asks.

Just because he isn't exactly rough with her, doesn't mean that he's shy with his kinks. There's plenty of non-vanilla things that turn Felix on, and something Y/N has come to find is that overstimulation was a big one. Whether she was overstimulating him (or he was overstimulating himself) or vice versa, Felix didn't care, she just knew that by the end of it he was cumming hard, flushed red all the way down his chest, with pupils blown.

And Y/N never minded that. She liked it, even, and sometimes it was fun to see how many times either of them could cum before it was too much. Before she was shoving him away and twitching, sensitive, needing a break. How he could resort her to tears even when he's still cooing at her, soft and sweet, in between the moments where his mouth is fixed on her pussy like he's starving for it.

Everyone had a breaking point though. Sometimes it was too much far quicker than normal, and usually Felix is good at picking up when she needs a break or needs to stop all together, without her having to mention it. Whether it be from the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, the way she closes her thighs and uses her hands to push his head away -- he'd slow down and check in with her, make sure everything was alright.

But today, things were just a little different. Today, Felix had her hands tied behind her back and a blindfold fixed around her head. At first it was nice not knowing where he was, or what he was going to do. To feel his hands first rather than see them, to be shocked by the wetness of his tongue caressing the insides of her thighs. All Y/N could focus on was the thudding of her heart in her ears, and the sound of his voice, and the way his hands grab her, and squeeze, and touch.

It's nice the first few times he makes her cum too, and then it starts to waver into territory that she doesn't get too often. When it's becoming too much, but she's too far gone to voice it. Where she could usually say 'yellow' for a small break, and Felix would come back from between her legs and talk to her, bring her down a little, check-in with her to see if she wanted to keep going or stop all together -- she couldn't find her voice. She couldn't shove him away and she couldn't plead with him with her eyes. Her skin felt like it was sizzling and popping similar to burning grease and the ties are suddenly too tight, rubbing wrong against her skin. The bed is too big, and Felix is too far away, and she can't see him.

Panic floods her, her breathing comes short, and she musters all she can to say, "Red! Red, I -- I can't --"

Felix responds instantaneously; before Y/N can even realize that she was the one who spoke, the blindfold is off and she's blinking away tears as his face comes into view. She trembles like a leaf desperately clinging to a branch against the winds onslaught, and Felix cups her face with his clean hand, "Alright, Sweetheart, you're alright. What do you need?"

"My hands," she pouted at him, "Untie me, please."

"Okay, let's do that," he kisses her cheek, then her nose, then her forehead, then her other cheek, and carefully slides his hands under her body. He rolls her to the side and works quickly to untie her and a little sigh of relief bursts from her chest. Felix, in the time it took him to take off her blindfold, how somehow managed to pull a blanket over her naked body. He rests on top of it, straddling her waist as he brings her wrists to his mouth. He kisses where she's tender, rubbing and massaging lightly, and when he realizes she's staring at him, he smiles softly at her.

"We can stay like this as long as you need, hm? Was it too much?" She nodded her head, "We never have to do it like that again, baby."

Tears prickle at her eyes again, "I'm sorry," she frowns, "I don't know -- I don't know why --"

"You don't need to apologize," he murmurs, he's still caressing her wrists, "If anything, I'm sorry. I should've noticed when you weren't enjoying it."

His voice is deep, melting over her ears, and her eyes flutter closed as she tries to even her breathing. Felix is always so good at his -- it happens rarely, but you would think he practices how to take care of her like this in his free time. She doesn't know why she doesn't expect it, since his aftercare is always so extensive and tender. He's an expert at grounding her, bringing her back into the moment, making her feel safe, and loved, and cared for. He kisses her wrists again, moving up her arms and then back to her face -- he peppers them over her cheeks and nose until she's scrunching up and giggling, wiggling beneath him.

"There you are," he murmurs, his hands move to cradle her cheeks and caress them carefully, "Do you want a bath?"

Y/N nodded, succumbing to the soothing sound of his words, letting her body go boneless, "Yes please," she agreed, "I'd like one a lot. Will you get in with me?"

Felix grins, as bright as the sun, and pushes another kiss to her mouth.

"Of course I will."

[hypersomnia-insomniac]

TKR Men Taking Care of Their Sick Partner HCs

Characters: Hakkai, Mitsuya, Taiju

CW: None

Reader: GN w/ high fever/super sick

Part 2

Mitsuya

As much as he loves you, he will be wearing a mask and maintaining a 3 feet distance at all times. He has little sisters to take care of and a sewing club to run, getting sick is not an option.

He'll sit you on the couch swaddled in blankets with your favorite show/movie playing while he goes and cleans. Mitsuya's the type to clean so well that he'll leave things better than when he arrived.

If you're the type that has a chronic illness or get sick often, he'll make you a few sets of custom of PJs that are so comfortable you feel like you're floating on clouds.

Since he often cooks for his sisters and mom, you bet you're gonna get an easy to eat, nutritious meal that is so good you groggily propose to Mitsuya right then and there.

"I'll think about it. Get better first," he says calmly. Deep inside he's already designing your wedding outfits.

Once you're asleep, cuddling the plushy he made, Mitsuya will gently push your hair out of your face and just bask in your beauty.

"Sorry I can't cuddle with you, baby. I'll make it up to you when you're better, promise."

Hakkai

Even though the both of you have been dating for some time, Hakkai is still nervous when it's just the two of you. So, his visits will usually be with Takemichi or Yuzuha and you guys might play some games or watch some shows if you're up for it. He'll slide you some sweets or takeout you're craving as well.

If he visits by himself, however, that's different.

When he first enters your home, he's flustered. He hasn't been in your room before, especially not with just the two of you alone. But when he sees you passed out on your bed with a flushed face and heavy eyebags, he puts all his nervousness aside.

If you end up waking up a little, Hakkai will bend down beside your bed and caress your face.

"Ho- How ya feeling? Have you eaten yet?" He'll whisper, eyebrows furrowed.

You say no, and he gets straight to work. He lifts you gently from your bed and props you up on the couch. After opening the blinds just enough to let some needed light in without adding to your migraine, he'll unpack the soup he brought.

Let's be honest, no one can top Mitsuya's food, but he tried and that alone made you feel better.

Once you're done eating, he'll let you hold his hand or let you lay on his lap if you ask. Of course, Hakkai's face will be just as red as yours and trembling like a leaf. But, he loves you and you're already his partner, so he'll brave it.

Taiju

My HC for him is that he's a germaphobe, total clean freak. He hardly ever gets sick, but something about snots and boogers grosses him out. Taiju runs a tight ship, a clean ship.

He probably won't visit very often. If you're just sniffling a bit, he'll drop off food and snacks before leaving. Maybe a hug, and definitely no kiss.

If you're having a full on coughing fit and sneezing like your lungs are filled with dust, he isn't coming within 10 feet of you. Taiju will use his long limbs to keep you faaaar away from him.

Taiju is the type to call you and stare at you through a window scolding you for getting sick. You're tired of it, but you know he cares when he sends someone by with a goody bag.

It's usually Yuzuha or the cat and dog duo (Koko and Inui). Most often it contains medicine and food that he forced had someone make. If you're lucky you might even get a card!

"Get Well." It reads. You're unsure if it's heartwarming or a threat. Either way, you're happy.

Author's Note:

This is the first installment of my "Sick S/O" HC series! I'll be adding onto it as I watch the anime and read through the manga. I hope to do all the characters and eventually do a girl version, but I don't quite have a grasp on Senju's personality yet and I want to release all the girls in one post.

[lovebugism]

hm maybe for blurb you mentioned, some nervous reader about a storm/ reader being shy about having storm insecurities w/Steve?? it’s storming pretty bad where I am so that’s what made me think of it lol

hi, lovely! i also have a pretty bad fear of storms so this is a very self-indulgent fic hahah tw for mentions of parental abuse, not heavily described — the one where steve protects you from a big, bad storm (hurt/comfort, 1.7k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

You’ve always been scared of storms. Maybe thunder most of all.

Thunder was loud, and it shook the walls whenever there was enough force behind it. Sort of like the voices of your parents when they were upset — which they were pretty often. At you, most of the time. 

You hear a crash! rumble in a black sky, and it makes you feel like a child again. You usually did whenever you were frightened. And being a child again was more terrifying than any storm.

Steve knows you hate when the weather gets bad. 

Not because you’ve ever told him as much, but because you shake whenever it rains too hard, trembling like a leaf on one of the trees outside. You tense when it thunders, squeeze your eyes shut when it lightnings.

He doesn’t know how much it really terrifies you — he can’t because you don’t let him see it — but he knows the fear is there.

It’s why it hurts him so bad to leave you when the sky grows dark. 

Gray clouds hang heavy, and the smell of rain swirls in the whipping wind. The wet, earthy scent is so potent that it seeps in through your closed window. Thunder rolls softly in the distance — the promise of a soon storm. 

Steve doesn’t want to leave, but he knows he has to. He opens at Family Video tomorrow morning, and he doesn’t have any clothes at your place. You live pretty far away from town, too. He’d have to wake up before sunrise to swing by his house to get ready. 

You know this. So for his sake and yours, you pretend you’re not as scared as you really feel.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Steve presses.

He stands just over you, right beside the bed you’re curled up on. He shoves his feet into his already-tied sneakers and looks for any reason not to leave. He peers down at you with glittering honey eyes that swim with concern, bushy brows pinched in a puppy-like worry. 

You muster a wavering smile up at him, half of your face shoved into your pillow. “I’m okay, Stevie. I know you need to go.”

“But I can stay if you—”

“I’m fine,” you assure in a dramatic drawl. “You should go before it gets bad, okay? I don’t want you driving in the rain.”

You meant it. The last bit mostly, though maybe not the first one as much.

You’re just scared of being a burden. It was your fear that made you a bad daughter. You don’t want Steve to hate you the same way your parents did. 

“Okay...” Steve concedes, though his distantly perturbed look only slightly ebbs. “I’ll call you when I get home, yeah? I’ll stay on the phone with you all night. Won’t even make fun of you for snoring, either.”

He says it just to make you smile.

You do, but just barely.

“Okay,” you hum quietly, almost inaudibly, in response.

Steve bends at the waist to press a kiss to your mouth. He rests a wide palm on your arm as you lift your head from the pillow to meet him halfway. Your lips lock with his pink ones in a chaste kiss goodbye. 

Thunder rumbles overhead — a loud clap that shakes the walls of your bedroom.

Steve knew it was coming. He saw the lightning streak purple in the sky just before he kissed you, so it doesn’t scare him as much as it does you. He feels you jolt against his mouth when you tense at the sudden boom. It feels like he’s holding a rock in his hand.

He pulls away from you a few inches, gazing upon your scrunched face and squeezed-shut eyes with his own look of distant horror. His honey-colored stare floods with concern all over again.

His hand on your arm clutches you more intently, a warm reminder that he’s there — much closer than the wretched thunder.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you promise though the words sound stiff in your mouth. You haven’t relaxed yet. Or opened your eyes. You’re scared of what you’ll see when you do — Steve’s worried face or your mother’s angry one.

“Are you sure?” he presses like he always does. 

He knows many of your responses are automated, like you’ve been coded to shrug him off along with all the fears you keep hidden. It takes a bit of prying for you to be honest sometimes. You can’t open up unless you’re really sure he wants you to.

“Yeah,” you nod, then huff. The sigh tumbles from your mouth in a trembling exhale — distant laughter mixed with distant terror. “That was just… That was really loud.”

“Yeah. It was, huh?”

“I’m good, okay? I’m sorry, I—” You cut yourself off when you open your eyes, finding Steve toeing off the sneakers he only just shoved on. Your brows furrow as your gaze flits up to his. “What are you doing?”

The boy clicks his mouth against his teeth. His sock-clad feet melt into your carpeted floor. “I think I’m gonna stay, actually. As long as you don’t wanna kick me out, that is—”

“No, don’t,” you whine. Not because you don’t want him to stay (because, truth be told, you were praying that he would), but you don’t want him to feel like he has to. “It’s just gonna make you late to work tomorrow.”

Steve shrugs. “Screw work. I don’t care.”

“No, Steve!” you protest. You scooch over to make room for him on your bed, anyway. His larger frame takes up the majority of your mattress. You curl into him despite your fussing. Your legs entwine with his fuzzier ones, your cold feet knocking with his sock-clad toes. You melt into him while you complain, “You can go, okay? I’m fine! Really!”

“Too late,” he dissents as he bounces his shoulder, slightly jostling your cheek resting there. “I’m already comfortable.”

You sigh and tuck your face into his chest. His musky cologne clings desperately to his cotton t-shirt — vanilla and rose and sandalwood. Your left-hand curls into the fabric as you clutch onto him. 

“I just don’t wanna you to think I’m a baby or something,” you confess and rub your burning cheek against his clothed chest. “You don’t have to stay—”

“Stop,” Steve coos. His chest rumbles with the softly spoken word as his fingers rise to your hair. The tips of them massage gently at your scalp. “It’s okay, babe. I promise. I don’t think you’re a baby for being scared of storms, okay?”

“You don’t?” you murmur with a soft pout scrunching your features.

“No way,” he scoffs, the answer obvious to him. “I mean, it’s actually a pretty normal thing to be scared about, babe.”

Your heart stops for a moment — just a blink of a second that makes you feel like you can’t breathe. Your fears have never been validated before now. You were never taken seriously, only punished. They called you weak for letting something so insignificant have so much control over you. 

It made it almost impossible for you to take yourself and your problems seriously. You eventually ended up punishing yourself for them — just like your parents did. All those words they spat at you turned into thoughts that lingered like dark shadows in the back of your head. 

Steve’s turning all that into sunlight, and he doesn’t even know it.

Your chin brushes against the fabric of his shirt when you turn to look at him. You’ve got a slight furrow to your brows that he meets with a lopsided smile. The boy sits propped up against your pillows, his hair wild and his eyes soft.

“You think so?” you murmur.

“Oh. Totally,” he snorts in a laugh. He tilts his head to his shoulder as his brows shoot up. “I mean, it’s more normal than having a deathly fear of quicksand.”

Your brows pinch further. The frown between them deepens when your face contorts in confusion. “Are you implying you’re scared of quicksand?” you mutter with a curious inflection.

His eyes widen at your lack of understanding. “Babe. There is nothing more terrifying than drowning in the ground, okay? And, like, once you’re in it, there’s no getting out! You’re totally stuck!”

You purse your lips to hide the wide smile threatening to take over. Your giggle gets trapped in your throat.

Steve keeps on rambling — one hand cradling the back of your head as the other flails wildly in explanation. “Sometimes, I’ll have these nightmares where I’m, like, getting home from work or something, and I step out of my car, and I’m like, ‘who the hell replaced my driveway with quicksand?’”

Your previously concealed laugh sputters from your mouth like rays of sunshine.

“Don’t laugh!” Steve chuckles, feigning offense, though his soft touch on you never wavers. “I’m being serious!”

“I know you are,” you hum affectionately. “That’s why it’s so funny.”

“Rude,” he grouses with a playful pout. The corners of his pretty pink lips turn downwards, and his bushy brows pinch softly together. Despite his dreadfully sculpted features, he’s still so soft — like a puppy or melted ice cream. You can’t help but take awe in him.

You rise from where you lay against his chest, shifting against your mattress until your face is level with his. The two of you share a single pillow despite its impracticality — noses inches apart, breaths entwining, eyes crossing at the proximity.

You keep one hand beneath your head as your other rises to his face. The scruff of his jaw tickles your fingers as your thumb brushes the warm apple of his cheek. His honeyed gaze dances between both of yours, sparkling with an adoration you don’t feel deserving of. 

“I’m sorry,” you concede with pretty eyes and a gentle smile. “I promise to protect you from any quicksand we happen to stumble upon.”

“And I promise to protect you from all the storms,” he swears with a similar softness that makes you melt.

His eyes turn golden when he smiles at you — the exact color of sunshine. You bask in the flaxen rays, safe and warm. You forget to be scared of the rain.

[blitzwhore]

37 with stolitz?

37. Kissing it better

Stolitz | 1.1 k | G | kid fic (The Circus flashback), Stolas likes Blitzo, Stolas needs a hug, child neglect, fluff, tree-climbing, Blitzo likes pirates

On AO3

Blitzo was having so much fun. Now that the whole stealing stunt was over and done with and most of his anxiety had finally left him, he was in such a great mood. 

Against all odds, he genuinely liked Stolas. The kid was a bit weird, sure—and very, very gullible—but he also seemed kind, and he'd said Blitzo would be a good boss, which was always nice to hear. 

Energized, he climbed the tree again. It was so huge, and, admittedly, beautiful. He got to the nearest branch and once again stood on it, extending his arms to keep his balance and imagining himself on the circus’ tightrope before a roaring audience. He jumped up and down, and he could almost hear the cheers growing louder just for him. 

“What are you doing?” Stolas asked curiously from where he was still sitting at the tree's base. 

“What do you mean?” 

Stolas turned his head inquisitively. 

“I mean… why do you keep climbing the tree?” 

Huh? What kind of question was that? 

“Uh, because it's fun.” Blitzo shrugged. This kid didn't seem to know what that word meant. “Haven't you ever climbed it before?” 

At that, Stolas chuckled, like Blitzo's suggestion was the weirdest thing he'd ever heard.

“Of course not!” he said, in that adorable, posh accent he had. 

Blitzo gaped, and promptly decided that having a giant tree in your garden and not climbing it had to be illegal. 

He hopped down onto a root, extended a hand, and said, “Let's do it!”

“What?” Stolas’ eyes widened with concern. “But I—I don't know if I can.”

“It's okay, I'll teach you. Come on, I won't let you fall!” Blitzo said with a smile. Stolas’ cheeks went slightly pink. 

“O-Okay,” he stammered. He left his fancy book on the floor and stood, taking Blitzo's hand. “How do we…?” 

“Put your hands here and here,” Blitzo instructed, guiding Stolas’ black talons to two small lumps on the trunk. “Now put one foot here and the other over here.” 

Stolas followed his instructions with trembling hands.

“Okay, n-now what?” he asked, looking back at Blitzo. 

“Now what? Now you climb!” Blitzo cheered him. “Push yourself up and grab that other lump. Come on, I'll be right behind you!” 

“V-Very well,” Stolas hesitantly agreed, and actually began to push himself up, maddeningly slowly at first, but progressively faster as his confidence grew.

“Let's get to that branch!” Blitzo said, pointing to it, and Stolas hummed and reached out toward it. But, just then, his foot slipped and almost kicked Blitzo in the face. 

“Ow!” Stolas winced. Before he could lose his grip on the tree's trunk, though, Blitzo extended a hand and grabbed Stolas by the leg, helping him stabilize himself by guiding it back to the bump it had slipped off of.

“Told ya I had you,” Blitzo said with immense pride. “Come on, you're almost there!” 

When Stolas made it to the branch, Blitzo jumped up beside him, and they sat next to one another. Stolas was looking down at the ground with worry, but Blitzo was looking right at Stolas, and saw the moment the boy's eyes darted up and his concern turned to wonder when he noticed the leaf-covered branches that surrounded them. 

“We're so high up!” Stolas said, awed. Looking much more relaxed now, he let go of his grip on the branch and rested his hands on his legs—and then hissed. Blitzo looked down just as Stolas moved his hand to reveal a scratch on his… well, Blitzo didn't know that much about bird anatomy, but he guessed it was best described as his front knee. 

“Oh,” Stolas murmured. 

“Ouch,” Blitzo agreed. “Happens sometimes. Here, my mama has the best remedy for these.” 

Careful not to lose his balance, Blitzo leaned down and pressed a tiny kiss next to the scratch. 

It was only after sitting back up and noticing Stolas’ bewildered expression that he realised maybe randomly kissing a royal better the way he would Barbie or Fizz wasn't the smartest decision.

“Uh.” Blitzo winced. “Sorry if that was weird.”

Stolas’ cheeks had gone completely pink, and all four of his eyes were wide open. 

“Oh,” he hooted, a high-pitched little sound. “Um.” He shook his head. Several times. “It's more than okay, please don't apologise. I just wasn't expecting to have my first kiss just now.” 

“Your—” Blitzo shook his head in utter shock. What was this guy on about?! “First kisses only count if they're on the lips!” 

Stolas’ eyes grew impossibly wider, the pink on his cheeks beginning to properly glow.

“W-Well, typically in romance books, that's true,” he argued, “but this was my first… overall kiss. Surely you know what I mean.” 

“Ermmmm… nope,” Blitzo said. 

“What I mean is, we all have our first regular kiss, and our first romantic kiss on the lips.” 

Blitzo shook his head. 

“That makes no sense. Your first regular kiss happens when you're a baby and your parents kiss you goodnight, you can't remember it.” 

Stolas looked away, and his face contorted with something close to... shame? 

“I suppose so,” he murmured. “That's probably true for most people.” 

Blitzo had no idea what to say to that. Surely Stolas was messing with him, right? 

… Right? 

Though, his dad had kind of seemed… off, earlier, when he'd chastised Stolas for bowing to Blitzo. And then he'd left so quickly, leaving them to their own devices in this gigantic, eerily empty palace. 

Not to mention the lack of family portraits in the palace's walls. For all the fancy decorations across the hallways and rooms, every single portrait had been of just… Stolas. All alone. 

Could it really be…?  

“In any case,” Stolas said all of a sudden, turning back to Blitzo with a shy smile. “What I meant to say is I'm glad it was you. Thank you, Blitzo.” 

“Er—you're welcome,” he said awkwardly. He didn't know how to feel about this. He really hadn't meant for it to be a big deal. 

“... So,” Stolas said, “what do you do once you've climbed a tree?” 

Oooh, now that Blitzo could confidently answer.

“Well, that's easy.” He grinned as he stood. “When you climb a tree with someone else, you have to carefully choose your sacred sword”—he snapped off a big enough branch from above his head and pointed it menacingly at Stolas—“so you can defend your honor in a pirate's combat!” 

“A pirate's combat?!” asked Stolas. When he saw Blitzo's devilish grin, he hesitantly stood, and looked nervously around for a fitting branch. Man, he was such a dorky kid. It was adorable.

Charging toward a barely ready Stolas, Blitzo laughed with glee and shrieked, “A pirate's combat… to the death!!!!!!!”

[rilamelafin]

May I Be Your Shield

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Rating: T Pairing: Cullen x Female Lavellan Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Here Lies the Abyss, Protectiveness, Non-sexual intimacy References Male Lavellan as the twin brother of Female Lavellan, who died during the Conclave.

[Read on AO3]

~~~

The tremble in Cullen’s hands had nothing to do with the way his body craved lyrium, and everything to do with the Inquisitor disappearing through a Fade Rift. He had heard from his men about what had happened at the top of Adamant Fortress. The corrupted dragon under Corypheus’ control had attacked, and the floor had crumbled underfoot. The Inquisitor, Cassandra, Cole, The Iron Bull, Warden Stroud, and Hawke had all fallen, and then a flash of green light had enveloped them. Mere moments later, they had returned through the Rift at the ritual site, and Neddirra had sealed it closed behind her. Warden Stroud had not made it back with them, sacrificing himself so the rest of them could escape.

In the aftermath, Neddirra had banished the Gray Wardens from Orlais as punishment for their deeds. Only Blackwall remained with the Inquisition, as he’d proven his trustworthiness and had not been subject to the false Calling in the first place. The Inquisition forces marched back to Griffon Wing Keep, where they could take stock of their casualties and heal the wounded. It was closer to morning than night by the time Cullen had finally gotten the chance to breathe, which was why he was surprised when he was summoned to the Inquisitor’s quarters.

When Cullen had entered her chambers and closed the door behind him, he was knocked back a step by Neddirra as she all but threw herself into his arms. Her hands were on his face, her lips on his in a desperate, searing kiss. She sobbed into his mouth. All he could do was hold her. The trembling in his own body had stopped, but he was certain that was only because she was shaking like a leaf in his arms. He held her close, hurriedly tugged off one of his gloves so he could brush his fingers through her hair. Cullen wasn’t sure how long they stood just behind the closed door before she finally took a shuddering breath and rested her forehead against the side of his neck.

“I needed to see you,” she admitted breathlessly. “After what I saw... what that thing said. I needed to know you were still here.”

“Of course, I’m here,” he murmured. “Are you alright?”

“Better now. I walked through the Fade again, Cullen. You’ll see the reports, but I wanted you to know from me first.” A cold stone settled in his gut. The last time Neddirra had walked through the Fade, he hadn’t even known her yet, and it had been the source of the explosion in Haven. He was grateful that particular experience hadn’t been repeated, but he could tell that whatever she had seen had rattled her. Neddirra had seemed so put together, even when she had banished the Wardens. There had been anger, but none of the fear he could sense in her now.

“What happened?”

And she told him. Whatever he thought he might hear — whatever he could have imagined — was nothing compared to what she described. A Nightmare demon that fed on the fears of mortals, and had stolen her memories of what happened at the Conclave. Divine Justinia, memory or spirit Neddirra did not know for certain, had guided them through the Fade, providing a beacon of hope as they traversed the Nightmare’s extensive lair. They had fought their way through Fearlings, which had taken the shape of spiders in Neddirra’s mind, and demons alike. The Nightmare had taunted all of them — Cassandra with the doubt that the Inquisition was truly going to make a difference, Cole with a declaration that he was no different from the demon, The Iron Bull with the threat of possession — but it had dragged the worst out of Neddirra’s greatest fears. She told Cullen how she heard the screams of her clan, all slaughtered, and none of those who had accompanied her could hear it. Neddirra trembled the entire time as she told him, and he could feel her tears as they dropped to his skin and rolled down into his collarbone.

“I saw Mahanon.” Cullen’s hold on her tightened, and he shifted to kiss the top of her head. Her brother had died at the Conclave, and Cullen understood how painful it would have been for her to see him again, even if it was only a spirit. “It wasn’t him. I know that. He was like the Divine, I think. A spirit, or a memory. But—” She sobbed again. “Mi’nas’sal’inan.” Cullen wasn’t going to ask her to translate; her grief was evident enough. He didn't have any words that would suffice in the face of her pain, so he kissed her crown again and shielded her in his arms. Not for the first time, Cullen wished he'd had the forethought to remove his armor before he'd answered her summons, if only so there wouldn't be a layer of metal separating them. As much as she seemed to need the physical connection to calm herself, he also craved the feeling of her as close as possible – to feel her heartbeat against his to prove that she was still there and whole. Her voice was uncharacteristically small when she spoke again.

“Will you stay here tonight?” Cullen didn't even consider the rumors that would spark at the Commander of the Inquisition sharing a room with the Inquisitor herself– he couldn't find it in himself to care. It wasn't like any of the gossip had gone away after they'd kissed on the battlements anyway.

“Of course.” They separated just far enough for Cullen to begin the work of removing all of his armor, gloves, and boots – Neddirra kept one hand on him at all times as she helped him shed those layers. Once in the bed, Neddirra curled into him with her ear pressed against his heart. More of the tension seemed to ease out of her as she listened to the proof that he was still alive.

“There's something else, isn't there?” he asked softly. Neddirra’s arm around his chest tightened, and she pressed a kiss over his heart.

“It told me it would kill you,” she whispered. “That you were the first it would hurt once it came through the Rift, just to make me suffer.”

“You stopped it,” he reassured her.

“No demon will ever have you.” The certainty in her voice gave him comfort as much as her words in ways she couldn't know. He kissed her head and wished he could convey to her just how much it had meant. Perhaps one day he would be able to tell her.

Cullen wasn't aware of falling asleep until he awoke to the desert sun shining through an arrow loop, and he shifted so he wouldn't be blinded. Neddirra was still asleep beside him, curled into a ball by his side with her head still resting over his heart. His left arm had gone completely numb, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. She was sleeping peacefully, even after the horrors of Adamant Fortress. The rest of the world could wait a little while longer.

[kittenfangirl20]

*back in Eden Eve saw an angel and a woman by the tree bearing the Forbidden Fruit, she walked over and both smiled at her, the angel had a kind smile, but the woman’s smile seemed cold*

Eve: Hello, you must be new here, but the tree bears Forbidden Fruit. I was told by my husband that eating that fruit will bring evil to this paradise.

The Woman: You must be Eve, I am Lilith and this is my husband Lucifer.

*Eve was frozen with fear, Adam told her about Lilith, a cruel woman who takes joy in causing pain and she looked at Lucifer who was Adam’s first love until Lilith stole him, she wanted to grab Lucifer and demand to know why he couldn’t see the cruelty in the woman, Lucifer walked over to Eve and gently took her hands*

Lucifer: The fruit is not evil, it will give you knowledge which is a good thing, your eyes will be opened to all the possibilities that life has to offer.

*Lucifer leads her to the tree and plucks an apple from the tree, it was a much brighter red than a typical apple and it seemed to glow, he then placed the apple into her hand*

Lilith: You just need to take one bite and everything will change for you.

*Eve nervously lifted the apple and took a bite, it was so sweet like honey, but when she swallowed it she felt unbearable pain in her head she saw so much that humanity had to offer, both good and evil, she screamed wishing the pain would go away, when the pain faded she was horrified to realize that she was naked and that she would now be thrown out of Eden, away from Adam, the thought made her cry as she tried to cover herself up with her hands, Lilith walked over and had a look of mock concern on her face*

Lilith: Don’t cry, you are free from that hideous creature, come with us.

*Lilith then kissed Eve the way that Adam would kiss her and while she had no problem with the idea of two people of the same gender kissing, she was horrified by the fact that it was Lilith kissing her and grabbing at her body, Adam heard Eve’s screams and ran to her, he felt anger at seeing Lilith treating Eve like this when she was so scared*

Adam: Let go of her!!!!!!!

*Lilith pulled away and Eve ran to hide behind Adam as she shook like a leaf*

Adam: What happened?

Lucifer: Adam, we gave her knowledge.

Lilith: Now she must leave with us because Eve would be seen as corrupted, don’t worry I am sure that you will get a third wife.

*Adam looked down at the Forbidden Fruit lying by his foot with a bite taken out it, he didn’t want a third wife, he wanted Eve and they were trying to take her away from him, he couldn’t lose someone he loved again, he knelt down and grabbed the Forbidden Fruit and turned it so that side that didn’t have a bite taken out of it was facing him, he pressed his lips against it almost as if he was going to kiss it while Lilith and Lucifer looked on in shock, he then took a bite and swallowed it, he then fell to the ground screaming, Eve held onto him as he screamed, Lucifer wanted to run to Adam, but Lilith held him back, when the pain faded he felt so exposed being naked and started to curl up in a ball as a way to hide his nudity, Eve held onto him as they both trembled in fear*

Eve: How could you, we were so happy and you ruined everything. You have your freedom, you could have just left us alone in paradise.

*Eve then turns her glare at Lucifer*

Eve: Adam said only kind things about you, but you helped that serpent hurt him, don’t you feel any regret? He ate the Forbidden Fruit because he didn’t want to lose me like he lost you.

*Lucifer didn’t know what Eve meant by this, but then God and the angels arrived, Eve knowing that they would be punished took the blame by saying she tempted Adam even if it meant she would suffer in childbirth, both Adam and Eve were made to leave, in an act of kindness God gave them clothes and Michael handed a very distraught Adam his sword of angelic steel, Lucifer and Lilith were then condemned to live in Hell where they would only see wickedness and Lilith would never bear a living child of her own, Lilith clung to Lucifer as the ground opened beneath them, Lucifer was shocked when Adam reached out and grabbed Lucifer’s hand, but as he fell and was unable to fly, his hand slipped out of Adam’s*

[atiny-piratequeen]

Play Bratty games....

Summary: ...Win bratty prizes. Did you really think you'd get by running your mouth to a god like that without him putting you back in your place?

𓆩⟡𓆪 Pairing: Fem!Reader x Whiro (Jongho)

𓆩⟡𓆪Genres/Aus: Against the Tide Verse (its an Au in an AU-), Non Idolverse, Smut

𓆩⟡𓆪Tws: Swearing, Jealousy

𓆩⟡𓆪Sws: (Everything is Safe, Sane, and Consensual), Bratty Reader, Brat tamer Whiro, Spanking, Slight Objectification, Degradation, Pierced Cock, Unprotected Sex, Claimin, Rough Sex, Creampie

𓆩⟡𓆪Rating: Explicit/Mature (18+)

𓆩⟡𓆪WC: 600+

𓆩⟡𓆪A/n: For any of my non AtTiny who want to know who Whiro is and how he's tied to Jongho...idk maybe read a bombastic in progress work of art that explains it all cough cough.

This was a popcorn commission from the lovely @atiny-dazzlinglight that I finished a bit ago but life happened and I didn't post it till now. Sorry for the hold up and I hope you and all my AtTiny can enjoy~

𓆩⟡𓆪AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪Network Ping- @kwritersworld| @k-vanity | @cultofdionysusnet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪©atiny-piratequeen. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪

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“You’re quiet now. What’s wrong? Nothing to say?” the growl of a man’s voice cut into the sounds of skin slapping against skin in the room. A tattooed arm is woven around your frame, with a firm grip placed on your throat as soft lips find their way to your ear. 

“C’mon~ I want to hear you mouth off again. Bring up the flower boy, isn’t that your favorite thing to do to rile me up? Mmm? Tell me again how you’ll just ask him to fuck you since I won't ‘give you enough attention’, was it? C’mon baby, I’m dying to hear it.” 

“W-Whi…ro-” You gasp out, clenching around him as he sped up the moment you force more than moans past your lips. Your eyes flutter, rolling back as your mouth falls open. His balls slap against the curve of your ass, and you have half a mind to be flustered by how wet it sounded. 

How many times had he come inside of you since he’d pinned you here, growling filth into your ear and pinning you with your hips propped up by pillows? 

“Be a good cock sleeve and sit right there. I’ll do all the work, since you think I’m not being a good enough man for you. We’ll play a game. If you can get your ass up after I’m done with you, I’ll relent and admit flower boy is a better lay.”

The same bratty side of you that got you in this position in the first place wanted to try your luck, see if you could run your mouth, but you’d ended up on your stomach faster than you had the chance to think of a witty comeback, a thick finger pushing into you as he chuckled. 

“You’re sopping back here. Does pissing me off make your pussy that much of a mess?”

“F-fuck you.” You hiss half-heartedly. He arched a brow, laughing to himself before placing a thunderous slap on your ass. You cry out and moan brokenly, eyes widening in surprise while he puts another finger in, stretching and curling them deep inside of you, his teeth grazing over your ear. 

“No, no. Tonight, you don’t get to. You get to be a perfect little breed slut.” 

And that’s how you ended up here, your hands fisted in the sheets, a blissed-out smile on your face as Whiro fucks into you, every thrust making the tip of his pierced cock kiss your cervix. His fingers flex against your throat and you almost cry out in need when you feel him loosen his grip, even if it's slightly. 

His weight on you, his growls in your ear, and the tattooed arm around your frame holding you were the only things keeping you grounded. He chuckled, pinning your hips with his own, speeding up and growling into your ear as your eyes fluttered closed. 

“Yes, yes, yes right there thank you!” You finally feel yourself clench and clamp down, your body trembling like a leaf as he pinned you with his hips, groaning loudly and cumming deep inside of you. He stayed settled, hips slowly working, milking every last drop of his cum inside of you with hard, powerful thrusts before slowly coming to a stop, smiling down at your spent and fucked out form. 

“Thank…you…thank you…ah~”

Whiro grinned, canines flashing. He wanted to ask if you felt like getting up and going to Geb like you’d teasingly threatened to do before this all started, but he took one look at you, sleepily kissing and nuzzling his palm, and decided he’d let you rest without teasing.

At least this time.

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[smallestapplin]

Let me handle it.

Alpha Ingo x omega reader

🔞18+Only!MDNI!🔞

Cw : this is an aftercare fic, omegaverse, rut/heat cycles, aftercare for alpha

Summary : your alpha always takes care of you after your heats, so you want to return the favor after his rut hits him hard.

Word count : 1,049

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His rut had hit him earlier and harder than he thought.

Ingo is a mess, not recalling much after the first few orgasms, having fucked himself stupid in a matter of moments after getting to you. You always knew how to ease his ruts, without tiring yourself out, and he was forever grateful for that.

Especially now, as he lays back against the bed. Drool slides down from his open mouth, his silver eyes slowly focusing back to reality, and all he sees is you.

You breathlessly chuckle at his weak purring.

He adores you, his lovely mate who’s sat so pretty on top of him, taking his knot so perfectly. He can’t decide where to look, either at your stunning face, or at your stuffed hole where you two connect.

You lean down, laying against his chest to kiss him. Ingo shakily moans against your lips, his hands on your hips tightening as he trembles. Pulling away from him, you coo, trying to soothe him.

“I think you overdid it, my love.” You whisper to him.

Watching him shake like a leaf.

Ingo lazily looks at you, huffing out “Yeah…yeah you’re right…”

He knows you’re right, he can feel his body become so tender, and with the pleasure gone he feels near painful.

You cup his face, stroking his sideburn, smiling as he leans into your touch. He’s so out of it, and so drained form how aggressive his rut was.

It’s still not over, you know he’ll be back up and ready to go in a few hours, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make sure he’s okay. Ingo’s eyes widen before fluttering back, with a silent cry leaving him.

You mumble your apology as you lift off of him, once his knot deflated of course.

Ingo whimpers, weakly trying to grab for your retreating form. You kiss his tears away, cooing softly at him to help calm him down.

“I’ll be right back, I’m not leaving you, Shh shhh it’s okay.”

“Please…”

“I’ll make sure to give you so many kisses, for being such a good mate to me.”

His eyes stay trained to you, looking on the verge of tears as you walk to the bathroom. One the door closes, you sigh, groaning at how stiff your legs feel.

He definitely fucked you good and hard. You try to clean the cum leaking from you as fast and as gently as you could, but he filled you up so much.

You get a few small towels, soaking one of them in warm water and squeezing out the excess.

You head back to the bedroom, and are instantly greeted with a happy Ingo, making grabby hands at you. You can’t help but chuckle at how he looks, looking so small in the nest you made.

“Hello handsome.”

He trembles at your praise, humming contently. More so when you lay the warm wet towel across his clawed and bitten chest, while using the dry towel to carefully clean up all the cum and slick on his thighs and cock.

He doesn’t even flinch, only focusing on you, and the sweet kisses you are pressing against his face.

A perfect distraction.

Once he was cleaned and dried, you stood back up. And he goes right back to pouting.

“Ingo, let me go get you some water.”

“Please-“

“Ingo, you of all people should know safety checks are important, and you need to drink something.”

You wipe away his tears, kissing his forehead.

“I’ll be back to love on you.”

“Please hurry.” He mumbles, watching your ice again retreating form.

As you go to get him things, Ingo lays there, fighting back tears.

He isn’t sure why he’s so emotional all of a sudden, but he just feels so much love it’s overwhelming! He loves you so much, he can’t stop the tears.

“Oh honey…” he perks up at the sound of your voice.

He tries to blink and wipe his tears away, but you just get into the nest with him, and curl around him. Ingo wraps his arms around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

“I love you.” You whisper to him, running your fingers through his short silver hair.

He nuzzles against your scent gland, and kisses over the bonding scar.

“I love you too, I’m so happy to be your husband.”

You lay there, holding him close to you as you soothe him. Once he’s done, he sniffles, pulling away from your chest.

“If I may…I’m quite thirsty now.”

You chuckle softly at his rather sheepish tone.

“Well lucky for you, I brought you a cold bottle of water.”

You unscrew the cap, but pull it away when he tries to grab it.

“Honey, I’m not letting you hold this.”

“But I-“

“No, not with how shaky you are, just let me take care of you, okay?”

You see him hesitate, knowing he’s so used to doing all the care taking in his day to day life. You just want to spoil and pamper him, but he has a hard time letting you.

You smile warmly at him, as he relaxes against the bed.

“Okay.”

“Thank you, Ingo.”

You tilt the water bottle to his lips, letting him drink. You have to stifle a laugh when he keeps drinking, not realizing just how thirsty he really was.

“Easy, love.” You carefully pull the now almost empty bottle away.

You place it on the nightstand and curl back up around him, just basking in the moment, basking in his scent and warmth.

Ingo always pampers you, even after sex.

You just want to do the same in return, to show him you love and care for him.

He can be a hardheaded alpha sometimes, especially when it comes to taking care of you and your heat. But as he lays there, snuggled against you, and your legs tangled with his.

He realizes just how much he likes it.

He feels so loved, so protected, so safe.

And to be in the arms of the one he loves the most? He couldn’t ask for anyone better.

He’s already planning the extravagant breakfast he’s going to make you, he will make sure you feel just as loved as he does.

[alouiadina]

I've got a few ideas for you to choose between or you can do all of them whatever you prefer.

1. Crosby thinking Bubbles is dead, and them being reunited at the end of the war.

2. Curt and Dickie timeloop situation, where they both keep dying over and over again until they can figure out why, and their deaths keep getting worse and worse every loop.

3. Ken comforting Rosie after the Münster mission.

4. Kidd and Harding trying get Crosby to sleep like he is their son.

5. Buck taking care of Bucky after he gets to Stalag.

Have fun with either one of these or all!

Marz🖤

@darkimpala1897

Hi Marz! Sorry for the long wait. I originally wanted to do 2, but where I have it ended currently is a bit depressing, so did 3 instead.

Title: Something Magical

Warnings: panic attack

Word Count: 872

Ken didn't want their first kiss to be like this. He wanted it to be something magical. A perfect moment for a perfect kiss. The last night of their leave, just coming back from dinner, they would stop in front of their hotel. Ken would look up at Robert, with a shy, but not too shy, look on his face, and he'd say "Robert..." looking up into Robert's bright blue eyes. 

Robert would lean in close, lips a breath away and he would murmur, "Yes, Ken?" Ken would shiver, and whisper back, "Kiss me," and Robert would smile, just the hint of a smile, before kissing him softly. It would be perfect. 

This wasn’t. 

Robert had come to Ken’s office, his bright eyes now a dulled gray. He looked like he was holding back from showing any emotion. He had this same look when going off for interrogation. That was Robert. Being strong for the boys. But with Ken, he could let that mask slip a little.

As soon as the door of Ken's office shut, Robert's breath quickened and he pulled Ken into a crushing hug. He buried his head in Ken's shoulder, shaking like a leaf in a storm.

As soon as the door of Ken's office clicked shut, Robert's breath quickened and he pulled Ken into a crushing hug. He buried his head in Ken's shoulder, shaking like a leaf in a storm.

Ken had seen Robert after a rough mission before. But nothing like this. 

Robert's body was tense and trembling as he clung onto Ken, his fingers digging into his coveralls as if it were a life preserver. His breaths were shallow and rapid, barely making it out of his chest. Each inhale was followed by a harsh exhale as he struggled to catch his breath.

Ken's voice shook with concern as he placed a firm hand on Robert's shoulder. "Listen to me," he commanded, "Breathe with me. In and out." Ken took deep, slow breaths, encouraging Robert to do the same.

But Robert's panic only seemed to escalate. Each gasp was more desperate than the last, his words coming out in strained whispers. "It hurts...my chest...I can't..."

Ken could see the panic in Robert's eyes as he desperately tried to suck in oxygen; two quick breaths in, one short breath out. Two in, one out. Two in, one out. He was hyperventilating. 

He placed a hand on Robert's back and rubbed it gently, trying to bring him back to reality. "Robert, focus on my voice. Look at me." 

Robert pulled away from Ken, still gasping for air, tears streaming down his face. Ken hesitated for a split second before leaning in and pressing his lips to Robert's.

For a moment, there was no movement or response from Robert. But then, as Ken poured all of his love and affection into the kiss, he felt Robert finally relax against him and kiss him back with equal fervor.

It wasn’t magical. It was raw and messy; it was real. But it was exactly what Robert needed at that moment. He needed something to ground him, to take his mind off of everything else and just be present with Ken. And for that brief moment, nothing else mattered except for the two of them.

And Ken would give him anything he needed. Anything at all.

Robert pulled back, his eyes closed, his chest still heaving. Ken pressed their foreheads together, and whispered, "Breathe with me, Robert." He breathed in and out, slowly. Robert tried to follow, his breathing evening out.

Ken pulled away from Robert, just enough to look him in the eye. Robert was still crying, but his breathing was better.

Ken's voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, "Robert?" He hesitated before continuing, "I know this is kind of a dumb question, but are you okay?"

Robert let out a small, choked laugh that sounded more like a sob. "18 went up, I came back. I'm fine," he said, his tone hollow and distant.

Ken squeezed Robert's hand. "You don't have to be fine right now. It's okay not to be fine."

They were both silent for a few moments, the only sound being their shallow breaths in the quiet room. Then Robert spoke again, his voice shaky and vulnerable. "Ken? Can we... Can we do that again?"

A soft smile graced Ken's lips as he leaned in to kiss him once more. This time, it was slow and gentle, full of tenderness and reassurance. Robert let out a deep sigh against Ken's lips, and Ken could feel him relaxing into the kiss.

"I'm here for you, Robert," Ken murmured against his lips. "Whatever you need."

Robert looked down at their joined hands. "Thank you."

It wasn't magical. But it was perfect in its own way. Because they were together. And Ken would always be there for Robert. Just as Robert would be there for him. And that's all they needed.