#gentle promp

[grandline-fics]

Hello! I just found your blog and I am reading everything that you have (while working🤐)

I have to say I am in love with your writing. You are amazing, can't put the phone down.

I would love to be in the tag list for everything that you will write in the future.

Also if you don't mind can I ask for the Promp "Conforting Kisses" where the reader had a nightmare of the getting badly hurt and they give them kisses to forget maybe?

If you can do it for Luffy, Ace and Shanks I will be thankful for ever. If you don't want to write it is okey💕

Hope you have a great day! 💕

Thank you again for writing💕💖

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Comforting Kisses

WARNINGS:  descriptions of injury, mentions of death. slight angst. hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Shanks

WORDS: 1,340

A/N: Thank you so much for your support and this request! I made a mistake and mis-read it to think you wanted the reader to do the comforting. I also only managed to get something for Luffy and Shanks for this but I hope this is still to your liking and you enjoy how it turned out.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LUFFY

He was so much stronger than he had been when you first met and joined him on the crew. Luffy had spent two years under Rayleigh’s instruction to ensure he’d never lose anyone else close to him again. So now why was he staring in horror, completely helpless and unable to intervene as you were overwhelmed by multiple heavy hitting opponents he’d defeated in the past. Each one got hit after hit on you, ignoring Luffy’s yells for them to leave you alone. As strong as a fighter as you were normally you were no match against these monsters striking all at once. You didn’t even seem to notice Luffy as he screamed and struggled to get to you. The Captain could only watch as your attackers fell back into shadows while you fell to your knees as a wave of Magellan’s poison and Akainu’s magma came crashing over you.

Luffy awoke with a shuddering gasp, limbs locked tightly and body trembling as the cold sweat broke over his skin. With every rapid breath he took, the images he’d just detached himself from flashed in his mind in the dark. Every desperate gulp of air just brought more of a panic, drawing him back to the darkest, lowest point in his life when he’d realised he was weak and couldn’t save his brother. What would he do if he lost you? Before a new panic could set in, he caught the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Immediately he was out of bed and approaching the door, opening it before you could even knock. “Oh, couldn’t sleep either Lu-”

Before you could finish your question, Luffy had his arms out like a shot and pulled you against him. Laying his head against your chest the sound of your heartbeat finally began to ground him, rooting him in reality and not the horrible nightmare that still clung to him. You’d initially tensed at the hug Luffy drew you into, not because of it being unexpected-it wasn’t given how affectionate he was with everyone-but because of how timid he seemed. This wasn’t a usual Luffy hug, filled with warmth and happiness. As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders you could feel the tremor in his frame and took note of how every so often his arms would try to pull you closer. Angling one hand you settled your finger’s against the back of his head, moving in gentle motions to help him relax from whatever nightmare he’d clearly had. 

Lightly you pressed a kiss against the top of Luffy’s head, a small smile tugging at your lips when Luffy slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. It was reassuring to see he seemed more himself albeit still a little shaken. “Can you do that again? Felt nice.”

“Sure.” Leaning forward you pressed a longer but just as gentle kiss against his forehead, your smile growing to hear and feel Luffy’s body relax from the comforting action. You pulled back to watch him carefully. “Ready to go back to bed? I can stay with you if it helps.”

Unsurprisingly Luffy’s gaze hardened at the suggestion. He was tired, he wasn’t going to lie but at the same time he hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to have that nightmare all over against your offer of staying helped him greatly. 

Together you moved back into Luffy’s room and lay down in the bed. Taking naps with Luffy was never anything new but since starting a relationship with him this was the first time you were going to spend the night in his bed. As much as you didn't like the circumstances that led to this but you couldn’t deny how right it felt to lie in Luffy’s arms, pressing comforting kisses against his head as he fell asleep to keep his nightmares away. 

SHANKS

Shanks knew this image well. Loguetown’s town square filled to the brim of people, their heads turned towards the towering execution block and awaiting the procession to appear on the top podium. Overhead thick grey clouds quickly swept in and darkened the clear morning, rain falling heavily as the winds began to shriek. Shanks lifted his arm to shield his eyes, his gaze firmly on the Marines who appeared. Your name was shouted out for the audience to hear and immediately Shanks’ body froze when the two Marines stepped aside and you were roughly shoved onto your knees. 

Your body looked so frail and small on top of the execution block. Even from where he stood he could see the bruises and cuts against your body as you knelt, hands held firmly by the heavy iron shackles and chains. Shanks quickly began to push through the crowd, trying to get to you but for every person he moved out of his way more replaced them. No, this couldn’t be happening. While the two Marines drew their weapons in preparation of what was to come, another stepped forward to begin calling out the charges. 

“You have been found guilty for aiding and abetting, harbouring, and consorting with known Pirate Emperor Red Hair Shanks on multiple accounts spanning years. For this clear defection of the World Government’s rule and repeated alliance with dangerous criminals we can only treat you as a pirate and deem only one punishment is suitable; death.” Over the pelting rain and thunder, Shank’s yell for you was swallowed and you defeatedly hung your head. Your eyes slid closed as you waiting the swinging of the blades, arcing straight for you. 

Shanks woke sharply, a deep pit of ice twisting painfully in his stomach as his heart thundered loudly in his ears. It was so incredibly rare for Shanks to feel powerless or weak, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare and any that came to mind paled in comparison to what he’d just seen. He’d never allow any harm to come to you, in all the years he’d known you and loved you he’d made sure the Marines and any pirate rivals he had knew nothing about you. Glancing down he saw you sleeping peacefully against his chest. Logic told him you were fine, you were safe. He could feel your warmth and feel your soft breath against his skin but still it couldn’t replace the images of your beaten body about to be put to death. 

Knowing it was irrational and stupid, he couldn’t help himself. Lightly he spoke your name and gently shook your shoulder. Immediately you stirred, a hum of sleep thickened confusion breaking from your lips. Shifting so you were on your stomach you blinked through the haze and looked to Shanks in sleepy concern, knowing he’d never wake you unless it was necessary. “Shanks? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry love, really I am.” Shanks explained softly, letting his fingers gently move in soothing patterns against your skin. Seeing you awake and hearing your voice already doing wonders to dispel the hurt his subconsciousness had created. “Had a bad nightmare. Just needed you.”

Immediately your gaze sharpened enough and you nodded in understanding. It wasn’t often but anytime you had a nightmare and Shanks was there he’d wake and be there with you until you’d calmed. Now it was your turn. 

Slowly you pulled yourself up and inched closer. With a feather-light touch you pushed the stray strands of red hair from his face before caressing his jaw. Leaning in you pressed sweet, caring kisses against his face. You started at his eyes, paying close attention to his scars before moving to his temple, then the bridge of his nose, his cheeks before finally settling your lips against Shanks’ pulling him into a deep, tender kiss, clearing the remnants of his nightmare away. Breaking apart you lay your forehead against Shanks’, smiling when he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your wrist, a clear sign he was becoming more like his usual self. “When the crew and I leave this time, you want to come with me?”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 7

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Read on AO3

CW: Smut, 18+/MDNI, CMNF (clothed male naked female), continued hamstring stretches (advised by the appropriate medical professional), praise, kissing, manual stimulation/fingering, touching under clothes, explicit consent, dirty talk

The noise you make would be embarrassing if you couldn’t feel the effect it has on him, see the way his pupils almost swallow his irises. With your calves over one shoulder, he pulls your underwear clear. You expect him to toss them aside, but instead, he places them down gently next to your hip.

Then, he parts your legs to let the left one fall back to drape over his leg. Your your face gets hot when you hear how wet you are. Simon makes an interested noise, getting your left leg back into position as he pets lightly over the hair you’d thankfully groomed before your trip. His thumb dips down to just barely brush over the hood of your clit.

“Already so wet f’ me,” he rumbles. “Set your hips. Good girl.” As he straightens your leg, he shifts his own hips and makes room for his hand between you. The breath hisses out of him when his fingers slide across where you’re wet and wanting. “Fuck. Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you whimper, resisting the urge to roll your hips into the barely there touch. “Green. Green, Simon, please, I want it.”

He doesn’t make you ask again, just lets a thick finger sink in ever so slowly. His thumb rubs soft and slow, using your wetness to glide gently over your clit. You try not to moan too loudly, to hear the way he huffs into the side of your calf. For once, he’s not staring at you. Instead, his eyes are closed, breaths shallow as his finger pulses inside of you, almost metronome steady.

The heat that’s been pooling in your belly spills into the rest of your body. You can’t help but squeeze around him, once. He’s so gentle that you can feel yourself soften and open for him, until the friction is nothing but the shivery, slow ascent toward your peak. You don’t resist the urge to tip your head back with a soft sound.

After a few long moments, you flutter your eyes open. When you look at Simon, you notice the slightest tremble in his shoulders. His head is tipped down, but you can see tension in his neck, though there’s only the lightest pressure where his temple meets the leg that is still over his shoulder.

You touch the top of his thigh, surprised by how rigid he’s holding himself. “Simon?”

“Mm?” His voice is just as soft as his muscles aren’t.

Your voice comes out just as quiet. “You okay?”

The hum he gives you is noncommittal. But he keeps petting you inside and out, steady and distracting. Three fingers on his other hand tap two times. He needs some time to think, to center himself.

Did you do something to upset him? You try to sit up to speak to him. Before you can get an elbow under yourself, he squeezes his fingers toward each other, a sudden, staggering pressure that makes you fall back with a yelp. You try to twist away, but as gentle as he is, you can’t break his hold on your leg - or between your legs.

“Settle,” he rumbles, pinning you with a heated look from beneath his lashes. He starts petting over your raised thigh. “’M okay, Bambi. Ready?”

You almost say yes. Your whole body wants nothing more but to melt into him. But… “A-are you sure?”

“’F course,” His whole face softens when he smiles. “Mos’ beautiful woman in the world ‘s in bed wi’ me. Tryin’ no’ to mess my pants like a green boy.”

You end up swallowing whatever you might say to that when he curls his thick finger back up to make quick, hard strokes against your g-spot. Even as a part of you starts purring with the knowledge that he’s so undone for you, you feel yourself start to come apart at the seams.

Simon straightens your leg, asking, “Number?” Which isn’t fair of him. You have to consciously resist the building tension in your body, resist chasing the orgasm that is building ever so slowly.

“Number, Bambi,” he prompts you again, with mean pressure over your clit.

He’s barely putting any strain on your leg, just holding your it up. “Two,” you gasp. “One and a half.”

He leans forward, just a fraction, with a grin. “Now?”

“Three-ee!” you yelp as his fingers speed up.

He holds you there, watching as you struggle to relax into the stretch. Each time you start to tense into the pleasure, he slows his ministrations, just a little. Just enough to pull you back from the edge. You want to curse him out, you want to cry. It’s agony just as much as a reward, a slow syrupy pleasure that makes everything a little fuzzy around the edges.

“Doin’ so good, Bambi,” he rumbles, what you suspect is much longer than 30 seconds later. “Ready for the other one?”

You give into the urge to arch your back as he adjusts you. Your voice is so soft you’re not sure he’ll hear you when you ask, “C’n I have more?”

Simon hums as he adjusts you to drape your other calf over his shoulder. “Ask me nice.”

Your whole body feels warm and soft and pliant. “Please, Simon, can I have another finger?”

“’F course,” he coos. He straightens your leg. It’s the barest hint of pressure. You whine as his finger withdraws, then settle when he pets at you with two. “Askin’ so nice. C’n ‘ave whatever you want.”

He pushes in, slowly, before he adjusts your leg, and you’re grateful. His hands are so large, and you appreciate them in a new way, now. His fingers are so thick you have to take a few deep breaths to let him in fully. You can feel the groan that scrapes its way out of his chest. Your own hands seek his thighs, clenching the cloth of his sweatpants in a shaky fist as he pushes your leg where it needs to go.

He doesn’t seem to need your input this time, pushing your leg just to where you need it. Or maybe he did ask, but you’re too focused on the gentle and implacable way he caresses you inside to hear him. He barely has to move to devastate you. Before, you had to try not to tense around him. Now? You’re not sure you have any command over your body. You’re at his mercy, the most serene you’ve ever been.

You can’t stop the noises you make when he starts moving again, little whines and moans that he echoes. The climax that has been building inches closer with every beat of his fingers. When he sets your leg back down, you only notice because he leans forward to brace his hand next to your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, and the hand between your legs gets so insistent that you have to gasp for breath. “Good girl, Bambi. Tha’s it. You wan’ to come, pretty girl?”

“Si-mon,” you hiccup, turning your head to mouth at his wrist.

“Yeah, you wan’ it,” he rumbles, ducking down to pant against your cheekbone as he works his hand. “You c’n ‘ave it, beautiful, take your reward. Come f’ me, now. C’mon.”

Before Simon, you’d never been able to come on command. After a few months, his voice could coax you to you peak with a little preparation. Now, with his lips brushing your skin and his presence filling your senses?

You couldn’t resist him if you wanted to.

The orgasm feels like it’s torn from behind your belly button. You can barely breathe for how it rolls through you. If Simon wasn’t caging you in, you might shake apart. As it is, you grasp at him however you can, trembling and crying out in ways you’re barely aware of. His voice anchors you through it, rasped encouragement and snarled affection that you can’t understand.

It takes all of your strength to turn your head to catch his lips with yours. Simon takes over, immediately, perfectly, and you give in to him with a panting moan. He steals your remaining breath, but also starts to gentle you down, hand and fingers gentling from earth-shattering movement to something so slow and gentle that your hips chase the echoes of sensation. He lets you. The way he kisses you, you think he really would give you anything you want.

[caramelarrowswife]

heyyy love your work! <33

I’m sorry if youre sick and tired of the purecacao/Dark Cacao promps but could I request ancients being invited to the Dark Cacao Kingdom for Choco’s birth/bakening(?) and they all absolutely fall inlove with that little bugger?

With some (not so subtle) Purecacao in the background? Maybe PV adoring Choco to the point of it bordering on fatherly love and Cacao getting so so flustered over it </33

Friends Being Foes

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

The new Heir to the Dark Cacao Throne had been born; a small warrior with the name Dark Choco Cookie.

It had taken a few days of convincing the very paranoid father, but the Ancient Heroes were finally allowed to visit the little boy.. and by the Witches, did the little boy enjoy the attention.

A/N: not at all sick and tired!! this was such an adorable request, i had a blast writing it hehe :3

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

The group of five made their way towards Dark Cacao Cookie’s bedroom; the warrior-king made sure he arrived at the cradle first, but this didn’t stop Hollyberry Cookie from getting a hold on the baby first.

“Look at you! You look just like your old man!” Hollyberry said, grinning ear to ear. She held Dark Choco up as if he was a rare gem that needed to be studied in daylight.

Dark Cacao’s hands twitched and he smiled tightly. “Why don’t we put him back to bed-”

Dark Choco babbled something incomprehensible, chubby little hands grabbing at Hollyberry’s face. The queen let out a loud chuckle, handing the baby over to White Lily Cookie.

The gentle lady looked at the small child with curiosity and wonder.

“Hello, small one..” she murmured, softly caressing Dark Choco’s cheek with her thumb. He made small sounds, grabbing for the lily on her head.

 White Lily smiled softly, handing the fragile child over to Golden Cheese Cookie - who was a little less careful.

“Hello there, tiny man,” Golden Cheese cooed. “Oh, look at you, reaching for the shinies - you want that? You wanna have my spear?”

Dark Cacao barely stifled a scream when Golden Cheese flew higher, towards the ceiling, with his baby in her arms. The winged queen laughed loudly at the sheer panic in his eyes.

“Don’t stress it, grandpa!” She said teasingly. “We don’t want to get your blood levels too high!”

“My blood levels are fine! Get down right this instant!” Dark Cacao shouted, his voice a pitch higher than usually. “I’m not joking, Golden Cheese!”

“You never are,” Golden Cheese pouted. “May you be more fun than your daddy, my little treasure..”

Dark Cacao sighed in relief as Dark Choco was brought down again, holding his hands out for his child - until the baby was taken by Pure Vanilla.

Very well, then. Dark Cacao could trust his small son in the hands of a capable man. A man that had caressed his skin at night, a man that had healed his wounds with the tenderness of a lover. Pure Vanilla would be sure to keep his boy safe-

The healer threw Dark Choco into the air, at least four feet towards the ceiling. Dark Cacao could not silence his scream this time as he shouldered his friends aside to catch his (now loudly giggling) baby.

“You’re all mad!” Dark Cacao whisper-shouted. “Vanilla, what the hell?!”

“We do this to Vanillian children,” Pure Vanilla said, a little puzzled about his friend’s extreme reaction. “With a Kingdom high in the sky, babies should learn to overcome a fear of heights immediately after birth.”

“My Kingdom is safely on the ground!” Dark Cacao looked like he might actually get a heart attack. “Pure Vanilla, Dark Choco should under no circumstance be thrown into the air like- like a- I cannot think of a single thing that should be thrown into the air!”

“Baby birds?” Golden Cheese suggested.

Dark Cacao jerked his head to her direction. “What?!”

“Nevermind.” She hovered down to his level, watching as Dark Cacao held his son close to his chest. “He really does look like you, you know. Oh, I just know he’s going to have the exact same grumpy expression!~”

Dark Choco giggled as both Hollyberry and Golden Cheese stared at him with matching grins. Pure Vanilla chose to stand by Dark Cacao’s side, later followed by White Lily as he stared lovingly at the tiny critter.

“May I hold him one more time?” Pure Vanilla murmured. “I won’t do anything bad, I promise.”

Dark Cacao hesitated, but when his eyes met those mismatched ones, he knew it was over for him. He never had been able to say ‘no’ to the kind-hearted healer, after all.

Pure Vanilla held Dark Choco in his arms, murmuring soft words the others couldn’t hear. While the new-born cookie couldn’t understand them, he found them mighty entertaining, and-

“Appa!” Dark Choco babbled. "Papa-!"

A flush crawled up Pure Vanilla’s face, but he wasn’t nearly as red as Dark Cacao was. The king stepped forward, reaching to take his son again. “Okay, that’s enough-”

Dark Choco let out a loud cry, clinging to Pure Vanilla’s white gown with one hand and Dark Cacao’s hanbok with the other. Dark Cacao tried to pry those little fingers off of his clothes, but Dark Choco held on with a vice-like grip.

“Oh, he really is like you!” Hollyberry beamed. “Do you remember when we were children, and your father tried to take that raggedy plushie you loved so much-”

Dark Cacao kicked her shin, hard. It did not take away the fact he was now face-to-face with Pure Vanilla.

“Well, his Royal Highness has spoken,” Pure Vanilla teased, not unkindly. “Brood no longer, my king, for your new partner has arrived!”

Dark Cacao let out a laugh that bordered on hysteria, his face growing redder. He wished the ground would swallow him whole.

“Perhaps Dark Choco remembers Pure Vanilla’s face from all the times you’ve drawn him?” Golden Cheese said.

A look of betrayal was sent her way by Dark Cacao. “The paintings were a secret.”

Pure Vanilla raised an eyebrow and his smile widened. Had he tried to look mischievous, he failed miserably; love and adoration streamed through his very being. “I’d like to see those, Cacao.”

Dark Cacao let out a low, embarrassed groan.

He never should’ve brought them here.

[httpiastri]

🍈 - could i request oscar and "already barely holding it together as they're getting their hand held but then they feel that reassuring squeeze and they just can't" from the touch starved promp list?

happy 3k! you are so deserving and there is so much more to come 🫶

🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!

author's note: getting closer and closer to that 200 word mark!! 😭 anywaysss thank you so much and thank u for requesting, hope u enjoy <3 (idk why my queue doesnt work sometimes 💔 this was scheduled for like 4 hours ago 💔)

3k celly !!

oscar finds you sitting on the floor right outside of the exam hall, your head in your hands. any other day, the sight would make him laugh or want to tease you – but he knows that this isn't the time and place for that.

his heart sinks in his chest when he walks closer, taking in your slumped shoulders and the way your body sags even further when he hears you sigh. he knows that this exam is important for you, and he knows how easily you become stressed over schoolwork, but he never would've thought it would affect you this much.

"hey," he starts, leaning against the wall next to you before sliding down it and sitting down on your left side. "you're not crying, are you?"

"not yet..."

oscar's gentle touch on your skin sends a shiver through your body, one you hope he doesn't notice when his fingers gently pry your hands away from your face. your right hand drops to your side, but he doesn't stop at removing your left one from your face; he traces his index finger along the length of your own, before letting it slip in between your fingers and intertwining them with his.

it takes you a few moments to realize the fact that he's actually holding your hand, but when you do, your breath hitches in your throat. you had been nervous to look over at him even before, but now? no way you can muster that much courage.

"you're going to do well, you know," he says, and your heart practically melts at the soft aussie accent seeping through ever so slightly in his words. "you've studied so hard."

you merely shrug, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of forgetting that oscar piastri is holding your goddamn hand for just one second so that you can let some helpful thoughts into your mind. it doesn't work, however, leaving you speechless yet again.

"go in there and crush it."

and then, there it is – the action that makes your knees weak, your heart skip a few beats, and your mind spin all over again.

it's not a big gesture per se, and the delicate little squeeze of your hand in his has a much bigger effect than you'd hoped. you feel a bit embarrassed, frankly, because you're over here freaking out over some simple physical contact. all you can do is pray that oscar isn't noticing it.

he does, of course, notice it. however, contrary to what you think, he finds your reaction adorable. it makes him want to give you even more, to hug you, to cradle your pretty face in his hands and stare right into your eyes.

but he'll save that for another day.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Heyyy! I wanted to say i rlly luv your fanfic and it would be great if you wrote a nanami kento one with prompt 6 🩵✨

There you go! Sorry this took me quite some, guess I'm too much of a hurt writer. But since 3 people requested prompt 6 with Nanami, I just couldn't let this one slide. Hope you like it though <3 I also added Promp 64 to this! 6. "I'm not crying. It's not worth crying." 64. "Don't be stupid, I'm not leaving you."

Beautiful mistake

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: You are in a secret but healthy relationship with none other than Nanami Kento despite being the sunshine to his rain. Until one day, you accidentaly spoil your secret to Gojo Satoru.

Warning: None, slight language like always

Your heart is pounding against your ribcage. The sun has just set, which means he’ll be here any second. You nervously fumble on the hem of your sundress. Do you look good? Hopefully he likes your new dress.

It’s always weird to meet outside of Jujutsu High in everyday clothes. Of course you should be used to it by now, considering that it’s been like this for two years now. Nanami and you decided it is best to keep your relationship private, far away from work. Therefore no one knows about your meetings late at night or the fact that you basically live at Nanami’s place. And this is just fine, perfect the way it is.

“There you are, sweetheart. Is this dress new? It suits you very well.”

The sound of his voice alone sends shivers down your spine, you greet your boyfriend with a wide grin and a tight hug. As usual, he smells absolutely breathtaking good. You need to finally ask him about his perfume.

“Glad you came”, you reply, face buried in his suit.

You love the fact that he’s always wearing suits, it definitely does something to you.

“You know I would never miss spending an evening with you. Here, I just couldn’t show up empty-handed.”

He hands you a gorgeous bouquet of purple, white and rose flowers, perfectly arranged and coordinated. You smile to yourself, taking in the delicious scent of lavender that now hangs in the air. Words can’t express how much you love the man standing in front of you. Even if he acts aloof and uninterested, he has a heart of gold. Suddenly you feel overwhelmed by your feelings, tears water your eyes. Unlike Nanami, you are terrible at hiding your feelings.

“I’m not going to cry”, you whisper to yourself, fanning air into your face to stop the tears from running.

“It’s not worth crying, I bring you flowers almost every time. But I’m glad you like them.”

Strange how your frequent bursts of emotion don’t bother him at all while everyone else is getting on is nerves. You truly are something special for him, the sunshine that scared away his rain, the joy that helps him to overcome his numbness. You are a gift, a true sweetheart, loved by everyone who knows you. Maybe this is the reasons why no one seems to even notice the chemistry between you two when working together as jujutsu-sorcerers. You are an absolutely poor liar, bad at hiding your feelings and the blush that creeps up your cheeks whenever you look at him. Even an untrained eye would be able to see your affection towards him – everyone expect members of Jujutsu High, as it seems.

“How was your day? Did your mission go well?”

“Oh, not at all. I’m glad you weren’t assigned to accompany me”, he signs and takes off his glasses.

Your hand gently brushes through his thick blonde hair. You can tell by one look at his tired gaze that this day was rough.

“Maybe I would have been able to help you.”

He gifts you a small but gentle smile, hands wrapped around your waist.

“Sure, but I just can’t risk you getting hurt because of helping me.”

“You know that’s also my job, right?”, you tease him.

“And you know that your job sucks, right?”

You can’t help but giggle at his response, the warm feeling in your chest keeps growing and growing. How is it that one man can make your life feel so much better just by his sheer existence? You simply cannot imagine carrying on without Nanami anymore.

“And you know that I love you, right?”

Your hands gently cup his face while your body aches to close the minimal distance between your bodies. Oh, how much you’d love to stay in this position forever, for the sun to never go down this evening. But you know all too well that tomorrow will be an exhausting day with a meeting of all higher up jujutsu-sorcerers that you and Nanami have to attend. It would be foolish to stay here any longer. But still you want to let these delicious seconds of togetherness melt on your tongue.

“Well, considering you already told me 13 times today alone, I sure hope so”, he replies before pressing his soft lips against yours.

You simply can’t believe it. The man that is holding you is the love of your life, the one you want to marry someday, the only one who has the key to your heart. Even though you are the complete opposite of him, even though no one seems to even be aware of the fact that you are in a relationship, you are absolutely mesmerized and obsessed with him.

“I hate to say it, but I think it’s better to get home. After all, we have to be up early in the morning for that stupid meeting”, he growls against your lips, face twisted in annoyance.

“How much I hate it when you’re right”, you sign while taking in his delicious scent.

“But that happens quite often. Come on, I’ll cook us dinner tonight.”

-Next day-

“There you are, golden girl!”, Gojo cries out in excitement as soon as you enter the room.

You gift him a breathtaking smile. In some way, you and Satoru are pretty similar to each other. Almost always in a good mood while wearing a bright smile on your faces along with loving a good joke and the company of other people. But unlike him, you tend to be quiet in your own way, only opening up around people you know and love.

“Nice to see you again. How have you been Gojo?”

The sincerity that glitters in your striking eyes is always a blessing for everyone around. You are so real, tender and kind in this cruel world that it’s sometimes hard to believe that you are able to survive in it.

“I’m doing better since you came here, (y/n).”

You giggle at his light-hearted comment, very aware of the fact that he’s just trying to tease you. Although you know that Gojo is very easy on women, you never felt more than sympathy for him. After all, you laid your eyes on someone else this whole time…

Oh, where’s Kento?

He told you this morning that there’s something he has to take care of, but it’s very untypically for him to show up late. Worry lines appear on your effortless features. Did you miss something? Did he maybe tell you about a meeting?

“Why do you look so worried, (y/n)?”, Gojo questions.

“I’m just wondering about Nanami-san…Normally, he’s never late”, you mumble while racking your brain.

To be honest, you’re pretty forgetful, without your boyfriend you wouldn’t even be here right now. But something important like a reason for being late wouldn’t escape you, right?

“Who knows? He never tells anyone about his private life anyway.”

Lost in thoughts, you slowly but surely fall into panic mode. Something has to be wrong. This behavior doesn’t suit him at all.

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine, (y/n). Nanami is a tough guy”, Gojo tries to calm your tingling nerves down.

But it doesn’t work. Frantically, you swipe over your phone, desperately trying to find an excuse in one of his text messages – nothing. You try to call him multiple times only to be greeted by his mailbox.

Oh no, this is bad. This is very very bad. Something must have happened, you just know it.

“I should now if he has something to do, I mean, I’m his girlfriend after all. It’s kinda my job to know these things-“

Gojo stares at you wide eyed, mind trying to process the information that just came out of your mouth. Did you really just call Nanami your boyfriend? This can’t be true…right?

“(y/n)”, he interrupts your babbling, your innocent eyes darting at him immediately.

“Did you just call Nanami your boyfriend?”

Your heart sinks to the floor, mind going completely blank. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were so lost in thoughts that you accidentally spoiled your secret relationship of two years to none other than Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, please don’t freak out”, you beg.

“So it’s true? Oh god, I can’t believe it. That are some pretty fucked up new. How long?”

“How long what?”

Kento is going to hate you for this. From all the people you could have told about your secret, why on earth did it have to be Gojo Satoru? Your face goes pale just thinking about your boyfriend’s reaction.

What if…What if he doesn’t want to be with you anymore? Your thoughts are raising, eyes getting wetter and wetter the more you think about what you just did. This was your little secret, the only thing you had to do was keeping it to yourself. And you? You ruined everything by mindlessly telling Gojo about it.

“Sorry I’m late, the traffic-“

“Nanami, when did you plan on telling me about your relationship with (y/n)? You have to be kidding, right? How the hell did you pull her?”, Gojo blurts out immediately.

You are on the brink of tears, Kento's eyes darting towards you without emotion.

“None of this is of your business. Let me talk to (y/n) alone for a second, we’ll be with you soon”, he instructs the white-haired man with firm voice.

“Only if you promise that you’ll tell me every little dirty detail about this.”

“Leave. Now.”

“Urgh, what a bummer…”

You swallow hardly, your gaze glued to the floor while you try to blink away your hot tears.

“How did this happen?”, he questions, his well-polished shoes standing right in front of you.

“I-I…I was so w-worried about y-you that I panicked and…and then it j-just slipped out…”, you stutter.

“Huh, I understand.”

Your eyes dart up at him.

“Are you going to leave me now?”, you cry out, tears now running down your cheeks uncontrollably.

Kento tilts his head and steps forward, hand gently cupping your face.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not leaving you. Sooner or later, he would have found out anyway”, he responses.

You wrap your still trembling arms around him tightly, tears soaking into his fine suit.

“I’m really sorry”, you mutter into his chest.

It’s like a massive weight falls from your heart. For the split of a second, you really thought he’ll end things with you right here and now. You simply can’t afford to lose him, Kento is your ray of sunshine on rainy days, you love him with all of your heart and more.

“Please, don’t be. I should be sorry for you worrying about me. Be prepared for Gojo’s constant teasing though. These will be hard times.”

He brushes a soft kiss against your lips, a tender smile on his face. God, how much you feel for this man. More than any words could ever express.

“We’ll get through this together”, you reply.

“Yes. Like always.”

[fyotherat]

Hi! You have slots free? I wanna take one! The promp: I would like something romantic and erotic. I think that the president's hands are the type of strong and kind hands when necessary (he is a great swordsman for a reason), you could do something about that idea? Fukuzawa Oc is ok!I leave the rest of the details to your liking. Thanks for your work!

With Care and Passion

Characters: Fukuzawa

Warnings: NSFW, mostly sfw-ish till the warning!

Notes: I'm so happy to get a request for Fukuzawa! He deserves more appreciation around here! Also.. it is my first time writing and sharing nsfw content,, so be kind please!!

A samurai's most important possession was his sword, not only the means of his livelihood, but also the symbol of his hard work and status.

•••

Being a skilled samurai, Fukuzawa's hands had to move with utmost precision, just a little too much pressure would interfere with the techniques he had been polishing for years, and too little strength would result in a weak blow.

Yet, after the foundation of the Armed Detective Agency, something new had replaced the title of his most important, and beloved possession.

His every touch was filled with so much care and affection that no one knew this man had, his touch was always comforting whether it be a caress on your soft cheeks or a hand finding its place on the small of your back.

However, things were always prone to change in the privacy of your home.

(NSFW)

Fukuzawa's hands were moving with utmost patience and care, definitely trying harder than he should to not hurt you or cause you discomfort at all. His left hand was calmingly caressing your shoulders and neck as his other was slowly but steadily building a comfortable pace, getting in and out of your warm and wet walls with ease.

His lips were occasionally meeting yours in a passionate yet romantic way, muffling away your soft moans... His focus was entirely on you, your sounds.. your expressions.. your body moving to feel more of him so desperately...

"Yu-..kichi.. please.. you're too slow.."

Oh, how hearing his name slip through your parted lips made him shiver every time.. how your pleas made him lose control of the gentle pace he so patiently set up...

"As you wish, dear."

As his lips crashed against yours in a more passionate kiss, his free hand pulled your hips closer to him, the sensation increasing with one more finger finding its way into your burning walls.

Everything was getting more and more heated with each passing second, whimpers and moans escaped your lips as his skillful fingers found just the right spots to put pressure on.

"Are you alright?"

You could only muffle a small yes before your voice was cut off by moans, his gentle words contradicted how sensual his touch had become.

His hand found yours, intertwining to support you through your high that was only drawing closer with his movements.

"So.. close- ah.."

With a nod, he quickened the movement of his fingers, keenly observing your every little reaction, his thumb occasionally rubbing against your clit to deepen the arousal you felt.

And with a sugary sweet yet pornographic moan, followed by your body shaking as you did your best to hold onto him through your high, you reached to goal, covering his lithe fingers with off white liquid.

"There.. there.. good girl."

He praised, his voice full of pride as he planted a chaste kiss on your lips.

He was proud, proud and glad that you trusted him enough to show him such vulnerable sides of yourself.. to let him explore you in a way no one else is allowed to do, to be one with him, and only him... and most importantly, for loving him.

[naturesapphic]

Hey! I'm in love with your oneshots! I would like to know if you can do a Mommy!Rhea Ripley x Little!Fem Reader where they have play date with other Mommys and Littles ( Any other Wrestlers of your choice if possible ) where she has to explain that a new member is joining them today and that reader has to be good and if she is she will get a special treat but the new kid starts to make fun of readers things which Promps reader to tell Rhea and Rhea confronts other parent defending reader ( I'm Just alittle upset still from Monday I still can't believe It 🥺 ) Thanks you so much 😊

Meanies

Mommy!rhea ripley x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression, random oc wrestlers lol, arguments

You were having playdates today with your friends at your house and you were so excited. Soon enough all of your friends and their mommies were here but there was two strangers that were talking with your mommy. Rhea came in the living room where everyone was at and had the new guest following behind her. “Attention everyone! We have new guest Here today. We have Alexis and her little. Her name is Sophia so I want everyone to welcome them with open arms.” Rhea said as she introduced them to everyone.

Then Rhea came over to you and brought them to you. “This is my little one y/n. Y/n are you going to be a good girl right? And if you are I’ll give you a special treat okay?” Rhea said and you nodded your head excitedly. “I bes goods mommy I promise!” You told her. You were pretty excited to have more friends but when you looked over to give her a friendly smile, Sophia glared at you which made you confused on why she did that to you. You shrugged it off and continued to play with your friends. A few moments later Sophia came over and started playing with everyone, it seemed normal until she started making fun of your clothes.

“Dey ugly. Why chu wears dems?” She said and your face got red in embarrassment. “Cuz mys mommy bought its for mes.” You explained and she stuck her tongue out at you. You ignored her until it was pretty much the whole time she was here she was making fun of you and your things. The last straw was when she was making fun of how you were coloring because Rhea said you were great at coloring so when Sophia wasn’t looking you ran over to your mommy with tears visible in your eyes. “Mommy! Sophia keeps beings means to mes!” You cry out but not too loud.

Rhea looked at you with shock and worry in her eyes and she picked you up and went upstairs to y’all’s room so the two of you could talk privately. “What is she doing babygirl?” She asked you with a gentle voice as she holds you close to her as y’all sit on the edge of the bed. “She keeps makings funs of mys stuffs an mys Clothes. Den she keeps making faces at mes. Den she says mys coloring bads an den wen I told hers dat chu said it’s was goods she says dat chu lies an don means it…” you say sadly and Rhea felt her heart break at the information. “I’ll go talk to her mommy okay? You can avoid her if you want okay? You don’t have to play with her anymore today.” Rhea explained and you nodded your head in understanding.

The two of you went back down the stairs and Rhea went over to Alexis to tell her about what her little is doing to hers. Alexis couldn’t believe her ears at this information and accused you of lying. Of course Rhea was fuming and she defended you. No one was going to accuse her baby like that and by the end of it both caregivers were pissed and Rhea told Alexis to leave and don’t plan on coming back until they are both nice and kind. Alexis mumbled something and called for Sophia. Soon enough, they walked out the door and you ran up to your mommy and jumped in her arms. “Tank chu mommy. Cans I till has my treat?” You asked her genuinely wanting to know. “Of course you can baby but after the playdate is over okay?” She chuckled and put you down so you could continue to play with your friends. Then luckily for you and Rhea. They never came back.

A/n: hey anon I hope you enjoyed this and omg same I miss Rhea sm too :( I hope the rest of y’all enjoyed it too and remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[mischiefmaker615]

Hard to Get

Promp: He longed for her and was going to find her if it was the last thing he was going to do.

Requester: @catwoman8565

Theme Song: Trouble by Camylio

Rating: R *Warning dark*

Loki's POV

The pain in my fingertips remind me I need to ease up clutching Asgard’s balcony as I gaze down at the festivities. It is of nothing new, nor of real importance. It’s a celebration gathering that happens nearly every night after a successful kill or battle than most likely was easily accomplished but most people snag an easy excuse to drink. Not me, there were more important matters to focus on..

Finding her.

My eyes raise and fall closed slowly at the mere thought of her and I could almost smell her perfume. If she were kidnapped, it would have made it all the more easier to locate her and much fun bringing an end to those who thought they could take what is mine.. but she seemed to have fled on her over volition.

I know she is merely in denial of her own feelings towards me, most women tend to play hard to get, in Midgardian terms. I’m fully aware that she misses her home there, but what better place to live than the one you are suppose to be with?

PAST

“you cant just send spies! I can handle myself-‘’

‘’darling.’’ I cut her off, knowing she was going to bring up the fact that she used to be an Avenger- a name that leaves distaste in my mouth as I gaze down before her. Her shorter height was an advantage to take things in control when I speak but often it feels like I was speaking to a child as she looked up at me with stubborn eyes.

‘’you are new to this realm, you could get hurt or lost or worse.. they are there to protect you, given the same duties as they would protecting the royals.’’ I indicate myself as she looks away from me, clutching the balcony’s edge as I look at her while her back faces me. I would admit that my eyes took the chance to travel down but I focus my words on the conversation at hand as I clear my throat. ‘’I don’t like being under protection either, but I serve an important part to Asgard. Some things we just have to accept-‘’

She turned around as her fingers clutched her dress at her sides, not knowing fully what to do with her dainty hands as she took a deep breath to calm herself. Her attitude makes me stiffen as I stay quiet. For now.

‘’I’ve been on Asgard for a month! I have memorized the palace and know the borders of the city, the creatures that would hurt me and the curfew you apparently set up for me to be back in our room.’’ Sarcasm hinted in her voice as she stiffened as well, glancing behind me at the curtains that moved with the gentle breeze of this night in Asgard. ‘’I can take care of myself and the fact that you want me watched, back at a certain time and to report my actions of the day every day is highly unnecessary..’’

At this point I have already made my way over to her while she spoke, her words fading off as her hands grip the balcony edge behind her while I stop just before our shoes could touch. Why couldn’t she understand that I am only trying to protect her.. my hand raises slowly, caressing her cheek but to my dismay, she didn’t return my affections through her eyes.. as if I were touching stone.

‘’I’m doing this for your own good Y/N, you’ve put yourself through danger countless times on Midgard- and you’ve only been here a month, how can I believe you’ll be safer in a place you’ve been in a short amount of time compared to the dangerous place you call home?’’ my words seemed to sting, but it was true.. but her moving her head away from my hand made my body tense.

‘’then why don’t you return me home?’’ she snaps. ‘’if I’m safer in a place I’ve been in longer compared to here, then why did you bring me here if all you’re going to do is fuss over my safety all the time??”

My eyes sharpen at her tone. She could be so ungrateful at times.. but her fire is what I first noticed about her, and I felt myself growing hard even by her words towards me as I shift in place. Yet by my silence, she looks at me and understand,.. understands the fact I’ve been trying to avoid verbally for a long time.

‘’you’re not letting me go back.. are you?’’ she asks in disbelief, her voice just above a whisper as I take a deep breath as my hand raises to caress her cheek once more.

‘’this is your home now Y/N, where we can be together forever.. they won���t let me go back, it’s the only logical explanation as to bring you back here-‘’

‘’and those spies and strict regulations.. aren’t just to keep me safe but to prevent me from.. going home?’’ she whispered and I see her body beginning to tense, her finger tips gripping the edge as her back digs into it but I stand my ground as I cup her cheeks.

‘’for your safety-‘’

‘’its not just about that! I’m basically a prisoner here! you can’t just- force someone to stay, I made the choice to come here but with the option to go back and forth- my family! Friends-‘’she was raging now, I’m not exactly sure why but as she shoved my hands away from her, my jaw tightened.

‘’you were taken for granted, brushed aside, people didn’t see your true worth or appreciate you fully over there love. Here you are loved, appreciated, trusted-‘’

‘’trusted?’’ she scoffed and shoved me, though I take a step back I stare at her in honest disbelief. ‘’you claim to trust me but send spies day in and out? Trust comes with love!’’ she shouted and shoves past me as I turn to watch her walk back into the bedroom. Our bedroom.

My heart was beating fast, my muscles tense and a rage rang in my ears as I followed her, my cape giving a little bit of weight behind me as it flowed but I had no issue keeping up with her as she went through her wardrobe.

‘’what are you doing?’’ I ask, irritation failing to hide itself in my voice as I join her side. She doesn’t even give me the light of day as she pulls out her night cloak.

‘’I need some air.’’

‘’we have the balcony.’’

‘’I need some time alone.’’

My words fell silent. I would have suggested I could take some time in my study just a room away to let her have her time.. but I had a terrible feeling she would be gone longer than I would be comfortable with.. especially when I have another issue at hard as I feel strain in my pants and as I push down my irritation towards this whole conversation, she seems to be more and more beautiful by the minute as she bends down in front of me and change her shoes, her perfect ass that stayed hidden by her silky dress almost teasing me as she turns for better balance and her cleavage was next to be shown. I swallowed thickly, the tips of my fingers tingling before I couldn’t help myself-

It all happened so fast..

The struggle.. the way she bounced on the bed as I pushed her back.. the heat of her underneath me as I lay on top.. her silky skin brushing against mine everywhere it could as I hike up her dress.. my lips on her neck and jawline as her head shook from side to side, her soft hair brushing against my face and her perfume consuming my nostrils.. her words.. I couldn’t hear them.. not a single word.. not while she was so tight around me.. milking my cock as I plunge in and out of her.. she was so beautiful.. so beautiful.. all mine..

By the time I had woken up that morning, she was gone. Gone and without a word or sign of her whereabouts.. I had servants and soldiers searching every day, everywhere, I even had to reveal some of my secret exits out of Asgard just to be sure of her whereabouts.. but as each day passed, the answer was the same.

She was gone.

PRESENT

It was getting close to being an entire week without her and the more I thought, the more I panicked.

‘stay in control’ I told myself, although I knew there was gossip throughout the palace over the whole thing. I had to find her.. I needed too.. my whole world seemed to have shattered and there didn’t seem to be a single thing that mattered anymore except to find her.

I have thought about the fact that perhaps.. if not dead, she had ventured back to Midgard, but even Heimdal brought himself to tell me that he didn’t open the Bifrost within the past week and a half, and do to her disappearance and timing, I believed him.

My lust made me blind, which is why the last night we had together.. my body seemed to take over.. I needed more.. the very thought of her made me calm myself before I took a deep breath and left the balcony finally. Even after al this time, her clothes were just where they were left.. pieces scattered on the bed and floor but I dare not touch them. I would soon smell her wardrobe than cradle the last memories at where she lay last, although I still resume my place at night on the other side of the bed.

I made my way down the halls, my mind visiting the memories we shared from each place I passed. the garden.. the halls in which I loved to chase her.. the dining hall where I took her once when we actually had a meal to ourselves.. the library.. I smiled at the memory how I loved to try to make her squirm and moan in a place in which needed to remain quiet.

I’m hard again. By norms what does she do to me..

I finally reach the cell room, straightening my posture in which that alone had the guards bow and open the doors for me. My shoes echo in a mild pace as I keep my head high, my peripherals taking note of new prisoners and old, each either shying away or cussing in another language, but I ignore the scum. They brought it upon themselves to end up here, it was for the best..

My shoes stop at the last cell, very few guards scattered at each corner but each not daring to stop me. Royals had that privilege and although I’ve done particular things on Midgard that had me returned here permanently, my position in the palace did not change.

With the press of my hand, the shield door vanished enough for me to step inside before it fell back up. Perfume immediately filled my lungs as my body shuddered with pleasure while I stepped slowly to the prisoner who immediately stood to back themselves up to the wall.

‘’shy little thing, how long must it be before you are finally admitting that you love me still?’’ I cooed, hoping my voice would ease things a bit as I take up the remaining space between us to raise my hand and caress the soft cheek that remained like stone.

‘’oh my dearest Y/N.. I’ve searched for your old self every day out there.. but the parts that I did manage to receive still hate me right here..’’ I smile practically to myself as she gripped the sides of her dress, perhaps to prevent herself from striking me like she had once before and her mouth remained close. Perhaps she is finally realizing how her words of negativity won’t help her situation here..

‘’every place I visit, I am reminded of you.. the fond memories and how I long to have them physically put back in a person again.. you..’’ I reminisce as I cup both her cheeks now, feeling her shiver but I just tell myself perhaps she is cold; ill have to bring her more blankets..

‘’perhaps if you’re behavior continues to improve, we can see about having things back to the way they used to be..’’

Theres that look, the hope in her eyes I loved so much that shows me she’s almost ready to be good again.. I tilt her head down and bring my lips to kiss her forehead, my cock straining again as I bring her close into me, folding her as my arms fold around her. She hugs back but not nearly as tightly as she used to grip me.. I’ll have to bring a bit more food then to help regain her strength..

‘’you’re still not missing Midgard darling?’’ I ask, pulling away just enough to see her slowly shake her head, making me smile.

Progress..

‘’I’m glad love, Asgard has always been your home, with me..’’ I whisper, having turned our bodies around before I suddenly shove her away, earning a small gasp from her beautiful lips before she falls back onto the bed behind her, my knee already on the mattress as I begin to crawl towards her frame.

‘’and I will continue to make sure you don’t forget that..’’

[tedwardremus]

PROMP! 'the yawn trick' (pretending to yawn to get your arm around the person next to you)

James and Lily sat in the quiet corner of the Hogwarts library, their books spread out before them. The soft glow of the enchanted lamps cast a warm light over their study area.

James was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on his Transfiguration textbook. His eyes kept drifting to Lily, her fiery hair glowing in the candlelight cascading over her shoulders as she scribbled notes with fierce concentration.

Feigning a yawn, James stretched his arms above his head, careful to make the movement look as natural as possible. As his arm descended, he slyly draped it over Lily's shoulders, pulling her closer. "Merlin, studying is exhausting," he said, trying to sound casual.

Lily paused mid-sentence, glancing sideways at James. A small smile played on her lips, her green eyes shining, sitting so close he could see his reflection inside them. "Is that so, Potter?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Before James could respond, Lily laughed and gave him a gentle but firm shove. Taken by surprise, James toppled off his chair and landed on the floor with a thud. His glasses slipped askew, and he looked up at Lily.

Lily's laughter was a sweet, melodic sound that filled the library, earning them a few annoyed glares from nearby students. She stood up and extended a hand to James, who took it gratefully. As she helped him to his feet, she leaned in and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips.

James's eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat. Before he could fully process what had happened, Lily winked at him and walked away.

James stood there for a moment, stunned, before a wide grin spread across his face. He adjusted his glasses and watched her go, feeling a warmth spread through him.

As he sat back down, a sense of satisfied success filled him. He might have been pushed off his chair, but he was clearly making progress.

A kiss from Lily Evans.

Who would have thought he'd ever be so lucky.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

March

“what are you doing with that” - Sage/Finn

Third entry for @yearoftheotpevent, cutting it close but here's March,

More SageXFinn for Year of the OTP, still from Stolen Three and lots of talk of hair.

---

16th century

It was easy to lose himself in the weaving of strands, bright red crossing over his own brown, free of the lighter colour the summer leant him.

Finn had grown up braiding his siblings' hair, 

Braiding was something they had done for each other; from the long boat ride sitting in Freya's lap as she showed him, to taming Elijah's baby hairs as he grew, to just before he had left to find Sage, sitting still as Freya braided his hair while he mindlessly did the same to Elijah’s.

It was a comfort as much as a habit.

His necklace was made from his, Freya and Elijah’s hair, the summer after their Sleeps had begun. 

Elijah’s dark hair stood out between his summer and Freya’s naturally lighter strands, he had them tie their magic into it before he had braided it, allowing him to use it to trace them when they were separated, Freya had done something similar with their blood soak into precious stone and neither Dahlia, as the holder of their connection or Elijah, who had never really lived free of it had needed anything else to find them.

During his first year after the sleep, as he traveled he had collected new braiding techniques and patterns for Freya as much as he had found new spells and magic and sooth any anger Dahlia may have gathered from their absence.

Elijah had returned dressed like one of the richest nobles of the time and with a glint of mischief in his eyes that had the hairs on the back of Finn’s neck rising until their aunt had appeared and it vanished.

He hasn't had much time to question his little brother about that during their reunion, only able to give him a brief warning to be careful, muttered quietly to keep from their aunt’s hearing as he used Elijah's hair as a model to teach Freya some of what he had learnt while away.

He never had learned how or where Elijah had gotten his new costly attire.

“What are you doing with that?” a voice called him from his reminiscing.

Finn looked to see his love, Sage's vibrant red hair almost glowing in the midday sun. Leaning against the doorway with just a loose shift to preserve her modesty, he had to force his eyes back to the braid.

She was a walking sunbeam, he thought, able to light and warm any room or space for him with her sole presence

“It's a protection spell woven into the bracelet.” he explained as she stepped closer

“That's why you asked for a few locks,” she mused, bringing a hand to rest against his throat “you've added yours to?”

“A sign of our connection, physically as entwined as our hearts are.” He told her, leaning into her hand, soft, gentle and hiding the strength to tear a head off with ease.

His valkyrie, his warrior spirit to lead him in death, his possible escape.

But he couldn’t, wouldn’t even dream of that chance, not when it would both mean leaving Freya and Elijah alone with their aunt and would risk Dahlia's attention falling on Sage and That was the last thing Finn would allow.

He couldn’t save his siblings or himself from her but he would protect Sage from that fate, Matthias was one lesson none of them would repeat.

So he'd treasure as much of her time that he could and so what was needed to ensured he wouldn't lose any.

The protection spell wasn't the only spell weaved into it but it was the most important part, the protection spell that he had placed much of the magic that gathered over his last forced century long sleep, as much as he could without gaining Dahlia's attention.

Besides, he doubted Sage would care if he told her it was a way for him to always find her.

Afterall she had given him a vial of her blood after their first year together for that reason.

He doesn’t know what he would do if he woke up from his sleep to find his sunlight gone, with this he hoped to never find out.

---

Now onto working on April's Prompts

[rose-vybe]

@starsmadeinheaven , based on yet another of those promps ;) Happy New Year!

That nightly vision of signor Ludwig was terrifying by any and all standards.

Not just the appearance of him, the looming shadow, the horrific, foreboding majesty of those black wings of a fallen angel, all but draped in tar; but the raw, sheer feeling in Feliciano's gut upon witnessing the beauty of perfect skin, of sculpted muscle, of all that which one could not quite call nudity for it was more of a natural state than anything.

In the dream, he recoiled in fear from the incubus.

He asked him not to touch him.

But now, in daylight, he knows better.

He knows, even as signor Ludwig is coming casually up the stairs, carrying a bag of groceries, Otto happily trailing after him.

Even as he's wearing those mundane, nondescript clothes - sneakers, slacks, a suede jacket over a checkered flannel shirt - in lieu of the black velvet of *back then*, his every movement is effortlessly graceful, alluring, impactful by default.

And Feliciano is standing there, elbows propped onto the railing as he's peeking down into the stairwell, taking in the sight right up to when his courage deserts him.

He slips back into his own apartment and hides behind the quickly closed door just before Ludwig comes into view of his landing, and slides to the floor on the inside, face buried in his palms.

The quiet darkness is comforting.

In the darkness, in solitude, he doesn't have to pretend he's human himself.

He doesn't have to pretend he doesn't miss his long-lost mate.

The dream may have been frightening to his unawakened self, but now he remembers fully his fingers into that lovely golden hair, into the soft coal-black plumage of Ludwig's wings. That mouth on his. Those arms holding him in passion, but also in comfort. Lustful one moment, gentle another.

Signor Ludwig is a demon.

He also used to be Feliciano's impure, sinful, and yet most caring and gentle companion. The only one who's ever shown him love, from nothing but emptiness.

And he wants him back.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Mutare: Vampire!Ignis Scientia x Reader

A call had woken you in the night.

From dreamless, floating sleep you awoke to the ringing of your phone on the nightstand, the vibrating rattling the wood and buzzing in your head uncomfortably. You squinted in the darkness, eyes blinded slightly by the bright light of your illuminated phone next to you.

You grabbed it, annoyed at whoever it was on the other end for ruining your sleep. You relaxed, your shoulders dropping in contentment seeing it was Ignis who was calling.

He needed to stay late to greet diplomats and other high-ranking officials to prepare for some royal ball coming up. Something about some party for a different prince or something, you couldn’t really put together what Ignis was saying as he rushed out the door, stopping to give you a quick kiss goodbye like he always did.

You raised the phone to your ear, humming instead of saying hello.

But it wasn’t Ignis’ voice on the other end.

“(Y/n), you need to get here.” It was Gladiolus. In the background, you could hear Noctis and Prompto freaking out. “There’s been an accident.”

You nearly dropped your phone.

It felt like a spike had shot through you. Your chest ached, you suddenly felt cold despite being wrapped in the luxurious blankets your fiance had just bought. You were surely awake now.

“What happened? Where’s Ignis?”

Your voice wavered, if the royal shield noticed it, he didn’t mention it.

“It’s too much to give over the phone. You need to get here, he’s in a bad shape.”

The phone cut off in your ear, leaving you in the still silence of the apartment. For a moment you just sat there utterly stunned. You sat and stared into the empty void of darkness sitting in the apartment, and for a moment, you felt all alone.

You sprung out of bed, fear now controlling you like a puppet, you threw on shoes and a jacket and rushed out with keys in hand, still in your pajamas. The elevator ride down was suffocating, time seemed to drip like honey but it also felt like you were wasting it standing in the descending box.

The doors opened with the usual chime and you dashed out, nearly plowing over some people in front of you.

In the car, you struggled to breathe correctly. Each breath was shakier than the last, your eyes were prickly with tears. You sat in silence in the car, your foot slowly growing heavily on the gas pedal. You were sure you ran a stop sign or two, but at this point, you didn’t give two shits. The radio was off, you listened to the vehicle hum beneath you, afraid that any music or even breaking news over the radio would make you break down.

You saw distant flashing lights, red and white and blue lights racing towards the grand Citadel standing tall maybe just a mile away.

Your heart ached, your hands shook and clutched tighter to the steering wheel. You wondered what would break first under the pressure; Your knuckles now light or the steering wheel creaking.

You were forced to stop just a little ways away from the Citadel, police had blocked off the roads, ambulances were filed neatly in front. You saw medics running stretchers up and down the towering stairs.

You booked it, weaving through the crowds that had formed and ducked under the barricades. You managed to get to the base of the stairs when you were stopped by two officers.

“Get off of me! My fiance is in there!” you cried, attempting to somehow wiggle your way out of their grasps.

“Let them in!” you heard a voice boom. The three of you looked to the top of the stairs to see Cor hurrying down the stairs, Prompto was right behind him. “Let go, officers.”

“But Marshall-”

“But nothing! I said: Let go.”

The Marshall towered over the two officers, he had the coldest gaze that would put Shiva to shame. The two officers let go of your arms and Cor put a surprisingly comforting hand on your shoulder.

Prompto came to your other side, gentle hands stroking your shaking back.

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain, but we need to move.”

“Where’s Ignis?”

“He’s inside,” Prompto murmured.

The normally bright and cheerful man seemed to want to tuck into himself and disappear. He looked so nauseous and scared like he would vomit the moment you mentioned something gross to him.

As you three ascended, your eyes never left Cor’s face.

“It was an attack. A Nifilheim diplomat. I knew something was wrong with him the moment I laid eyes on him. I only wish I had stopped him before he entered the Citadel.”

“An assassin?”

Cor paused for a moment.

“Something else. We’re not sure of his motives. He’s in captivity under the Citadel, however.” You three reached the top of the stairs were officers, Crownsguard, and Kingsglaive all stood. Two Kingsglaive immediately pulled open the doors and stepped out of the way. “Gladiolus can explain to the rest. I need to finish here.”

As if he was called, the towering shield rounded the corner. Prompto ushered you forward, leaving Cor behind. The halls had diplomats all either scared out of their minds with makeup runny and expensive clothing ruined or dirtied, or being taken care of by medics and Citadel nurses. There was a bit of blood splattered across Gladio’s hands which were balled at his sides.

It was a little tough to keep up with Gladio’s long and powerful strides, but you somehow managed.

“Where’s Ignis?” you questioned as soon as you got into a quiet hallway. “What happened?”

“Niflheim sent a vampire,” another voice stated.

Looking down the hallway, you saw Noctis approaching. His expensive suit was torn at the arms, his hair you knew he took care of so meticulously was now a mess.

“You’re supposed to be with the King, safe and away from this,” Gladio stated plainly. “How did you get past my father?”

“He’s with Drautos in the cells.”

“A vampire?” your eyebrows raised. “Niflheim has vampires now too?” The pit in your stomach suddenly grew deeper. You looked back at Gladio with nervous eyes. “Don’t tell me-”

“Ignis was attacked.”

“Is he alright? Where is he?”

Gladio guided you down another hallway, avoiding rushing nurses and maids. Down the hall stood a large elevator, metal shining brightly.

“You need to see him,” Gladio nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Looking to Noctis and Prompto gave the shield nothing, suddenly the shield was no longer confident in himself to tell you exactly what happened. “He’s still here, we can’t let him leave on an ambulance,” was all he said as he pressed the button to summon the elevator.

The four of you piled into the regal elevator as Noctis pressed multiple buttons on the panel. The descent was quiet and cold, none of you made a noise until the doors finally opened. It was all blank and dull, the hallways painted a few shades of gray and the floor cold stone was dark.

“What is this place?” you looked up to the shield.

“They go with the cells, medical rooms,” he didn’t look back at you.

His unruly eyebrows were knit together in mixed emotions;

Somewhere between discomfort and regret.

Gladio lead the way for the three of you, twisting down a corner and following the corridor down until you finally came upon a door that had a ring of light around it.

The hallway was empty. No nurses, not even any carts in the hallway. Only a small pool of blood at the closed door before you four. Gladio pushed the door open, eyes wide with shock.

“He’s not here.”

Peeking into the room, you could confirm that it was empty. There was a mess, however. The bedding was rumpled and thrown to the foot, the IV was toppled over and fluid was all over the floor, there were blood droplets all over the bed from where the cords were yanked out.

The three entered the room to see if there were any signs of a struggle when you heard the faint sound of glass shattering echo down the hallway followed by a soft moan. Almost as if you were drawn by the noises alone, your feet carried you down the hallway until you could peek around the corner. All the way down the hallway stood a glass door now opened, shattered pane in the center with blood around the hole.

You stepped into the hallway and carefully stepped forward, trying to stay as quiet as possible as you crept up to the door. The closer you got, the more you could make out a tall and shadowy figure through the glass. You could hear glass moving, drawers opening, metal bending.

It was like you were in a trance. The closer you stepped towards the door, the harder it was to reason to yourself to stop, to shout out for them. Next to the door was a damaged card reader, no longer sparking. There was a sign for biohazards in black and yellow.

You placed your hand on the door, careful to not touch the shards of glass that remained. You could feel the presence of the person, the air around you was thick with dread, you were suffocating. You slowly pushed the door open just a bit, just enough to let a little more light into the room.

Suddenly, your back struck the wall behind you, the air was knocked out of you, your head suddenly grew fuzzy. You whimpered and gasped as slender fingers harshly wrapped around your throat to keep you pinned under fierce strength. It was only when you unscrewed your eyes from the pain did you feel your world come to a hard stop.

He stood before you.

Glasses obstructed, skin paled and clammy, hair a mess now falling before his eyes. But what were once emerald green eyes were now dark and reddened. His lips were pulled back to reveal sharp canines, capable of puncturing holes in your neck without resistance.

“Ignis?”

[achirding]

SatBK Week 5: Blooded

Summary: Sir Lamorak participates in his first tournament and is wounded grievously, and as he lays agonizing on his death bed, is surprised to find aid comes from an unlikely source- aloof, cold Lancelot and his family enemy Gawain.

Contains: Minor Injury! Lamorak dislocated his shoulder and got cut. but is exaggerating a lot. Gawain and Lancelot are friends! Lamorak and Gawain are enemies! Percival is Lamorak's sister!

Rating: G

Word count:   1,376

Note: Omg, finally, a Lamorak POV piece! C: This is for SatBK Prompt Week 2024's promp, "Valor." Reminder of characters: Sir Lamorak is Jet the Hawk! Sir Lancelot is Shadow the Hedgehog! Sir Gawain is Knuckles the Echidna! Sir Percival is Blaze the Cat!

-----

It’s a right of passage for every knight, almost as important as kneeling and receiving the title of knighthood.

The first blood drawn in combat. First injury undertaken in defense of king and kingdom. First proof of courage and determination on the battlefield.

It is a knights first honor- and Lamorak is in so much agony that he wishes he would just die already. 

Honor and glory do nothing to soothe the ache in his shoulder that leaves him breathless from pain. Chivalry and duty will not keep the blood from oozing down his shoulder blades.

It wasn’t much of a life, but the young knight is still depressed that it’s being cut so short. Lamorak simultaneously wishes it would end faster, because agonizing through a slow death is even worse.

“You are not going to die, Sir Lamorak,” Lancelot’s voice is low and soothing as the older knight gently dabs a cool rag against the hawk’s face, wiping away sweat and grime and blood, “Not today. Not from this wound.”

The hedgehog’s hands are calloused from swordplay and bumpy from a thousand scars, but his touch is gentle... Practiced in a way borne of experience and soothing in a way borne of kindness.

That might be the most surprising thing of this all- not Lamorak embarrassing himself as he agonizes on his deathbed, not that his life has been short and violent, and not that he will die alone without his sister noticing his absence until it is too late... 

The greatest surprise is that intimidating, grim, cold, standoffish, and self-absorbed Sir Lancelot is so kind. 

The Knight of the Lake owes him nothing. Lancelot doesn’t know Lamorak. He doesn’t have any form of friendship or affection with Lamorak’s father, and Percival is still so new to the Round Table that it’s likely the hedgehog has no strong opinions of her, either. 

Lancelot has enough great deeds and spoils of war to his name that there is nothing Lamorak could offer him in return for this kindness. And what could the hungry, unknown bastard of an older knight possibly offer someone like the great Sir Lancelot?

Lamorak’s only inheritance was old rivalries and blood debts the hawk was expected to undertake and endure. If anything, Lancelot was probably taking on a grudge for helping Lamorak, if anything, so why…?

“Indeed!” A gruff voice from the other side of the tent agrees, sounding /ncredibly annoyed. Lamorak cranes his head back to look at the man somewhere behind him, but the movement sends a shock of searing pain down his arm and throughout his body. He makes an undignified mewl that a full-blooded hawk would never make- but Lamorak hurts too much to care right now. 

“Gawain,“ Lancelot says with a tired quality to his voice like this has been an ongoing argument. Lamorak forces an eye open when he feels Lancelot dab the towel under his chin, but the hedgehog is looking at Gawain.

Sir Gawain of Orkney. A fearsome warrior known throughout the land for his great skill in combat, tremendous strength, and chivalrous conduct. The nephew of the High King and heir to the throne until King Arthur sires his own luckless bastard.

Also the eldest son of King Lot, the man who Lamorak’s father defeated and killed in combat. Gawain had every reason to hate and resent him, and would be in his right to collect on that blood debt now. Lamorak should hate him, too, and be a good son and honorable knight- 

But it hurts to breathe and his arm throbs in pain, and getting into a fight over his dad’s stupid grudges is the last thing on his mind right now. 

“Sorry,” Lamorak grunts between gritted teeth, the only thing he can bring himself to say. It isn’t clear who he’s apologizing to.

“It will take more than that to set things right between our households,” Gawain turns his nose up with a sneer, looking down with cold eyes, “Blood demands blood-“

"Then take it and be quiet."

Gawain cuts himself off with a sputter as a bloody rag smacks into his face, immediately wrestling it off and throwing it across the room. The echidna rubs at his nose and face while cursing loudly, "Lancelot!“

“Dégage,” Lancelot tells Gawain with a shake of his head, pulling a wet towel from the basin on the floor. The hedgehog wrings the towel free of moisture before folding it in half and pressing it to Lamorak’s forehead, “There will be other opportunities for you and the boy to kill each other.”

“Sorry,” Lamorak says again as he closes his eyes, enjoying the cool rag against his sweaty forehead. Everything still hurts terribly.  

“Do not apologize,” Lancelot tells him firmly but not unkindly, petting them top of Lamorak’s head gently, “You fought well and valorously. You brought yourself and our kingdom honor today.”

The ultimate knight never struck Lamorak as affectionate, in any sense of the word, but this is really nice. It makes Lamorak think of his childhood, where his mother would sit at his bedside to soothe fevers and pains. It should be embarrassing to be doted on like a child, but if he has the choice, he would rather leave this world with gentle kindness like this. At least he is going to die in the arms of an angel.

“You will not die this day, Sir Lamorak,” Lancelot tells him, again, still gently stroking his head, “Take heart-“

“Notice that fair Sir Lancelot did not deny being an Angel!” Gawain interrupts loudly and abruptly, moving to stand next to the hedgehog. Right next to Lamorak’s cot, too, but the echidna only has eyes for Lancelot right now, “He did not say he was not a creature of light and beauty here to grace us mere mortals with mercy and kindness!”

Lancelot presses his lips into a thin line as he stares at Gawain, hand resting on Lamorak’s head absently as the older knights become engrossed in a staring contest. The hawk is more than a little offended that his death bed is being co-opted by whatever disagreement Gawain and Lancelot are trying to work through. Not everything needed to revolve around them.

“I am not an angel,” Lancelot tells Lamorak, voice serious but obviously exasperated as he looks down at the hawk. There’s some holes in the top of the tent that sunlight is streaming through, giving the hedgehog a lighting that makes him look even more angelic. 

“And neither is the boy,” Gawain adds cheerfully, standing in the shadow just outside his periphery that makes red fur looks like flames.

Lamorak really was going to die-

“It feels worse than it is, I assure you,” Lancelot dips the towel in water again, wringing it out of blood before gently rubbing the dirt and blood from his arm. That hurts even more than before, and Lamorak can’t help crying out again no matter how lightly and tenderly the hedgehog tries to clean the area, “It will be a scar you can be proud of earning.”

“Unless they have to cut the whole damn thing off,” Gawain is suddenly much closer again, looking down at Lamorak’s arm with vague disgust, “It is looking rather green, perhaps its already infected beyond saving.”

Ice settles in Lamorak’s stomach as he freezes, staring up at Gawain in growing alarm and horror. Lose his arm…?

“Enough,” Lancelot puts one hand on his hip as he points at the tent flap like a stern matron, “If you are not here to help, then you may leave, Sir Gawain.“

“I would be delighted to help!” Gawain says cheerfully as he elbows Lancelot aside, a dangerous edge to that sharp smile. This is obviously a nightmare, Lamorak barely has time to think as the hilt of his own blade is shoved into his beak, “Chew this unless you want to lose your tongue. No great loss.”

Lamorak doesn’t have any time to protest before Gawain is grabbing his arm roughly and shoving it against his body with a loud crack. The hawk lets out a screech that would deafen a banshee as white hot pain sears throughout his body, vaguely aware that he is blubbering like a child before darkness takes him again.

Lamorak hopes this time he does actually die because he won’t be able to live with the embarrassment. 

(Unfortunately, he has always had bad luck.)

[astravates]

@stellaescriptum asked: "[ underwater ] a kiss shared while submerged in water" // different ways to kiss promps;; open

The vast, unending expanse of the ocean has never truly felt like home to Caleb, not like Fjord, who seems to thrive in its depths. But as the months have passed, even the human cannot deny the beauty and allure of the endless blue waters. The gentle ebb and flow of the waves, the salty tang of sea air, and constant call of seagulls. Serendipitously, his arrival to visit Fjord is perfectly timed. His ship docked at the harbor near Bisaft, granting him and Fjord a chance to visit the beach.

And with Fjord by his side during their beach venture, Caleb takes a deep breath and submerges himself fully into the cool water. His ginger hair, usually neat and orderly behind his head, becomes wild and untamed in the waves. The saltwater gently stings his eyes, but he doesn't mind as he opens them to take in the tranquil blue world below. With what breath he has left, he swims towards Fjord and plants a tender kiss on his temple before surfacing for air.

[streakyglasses]

#18 on the Sleepy OTP Promps plsss!

hi, dear! thank you for your patience on this; i hope you enjoy!!

god it's just not fair of him (to make me feel this much)

also on ao3 and ffn!

The house is small, but it’s his. 

Theirs, really, counting Luca. And really, really, it’s Luca’s name on all the paperwork. But, okay, for all intents and purposes, the house is his. The water always stays hot through his entire show, and natural light gleams in over the hardwood as long as the sun is in the sky. The walls are thin but safe—a welcome embrace after long shifts and hard days. Every square foot is a tangible piece that he’s slowly learning he doesn’t have to white-knuckle because he isn’t going to lose it. 

So, yes. It’s small, but it’s his, and it’s perfect. 

And then he spends the night with Chris in his arms. 

He realizes quickly that he had no clue what perfect was. 

Her skin is warmer and softer than cloud nine, and he takes a deep breath of her sweet, musky scent and sinks further into his newfound bliss. Before she even flutters her lashes open or turns to give him the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen, he knows he wants to wake up to her for the rest of his life. And then she does, and he ghosts kisses over her forehead and cheekbones and lips. That’s perfect.

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

Months later, Chris starts to slip from the bed like she always does on Street’s off days; quick and quiet, and without letting too much cold air underneath the covers. She still remembers the relief of not having to be up at 4:30, of waking surrounded by warm covers and just getting to burrow in deeper, and she does her best to make sure that he gets all the sleep he can. 

If only he’d stop throwing wrenches in her plan. 

“No,” he murmurs, once her legs are dangling off the side of the bed, his fingers clutching her worn t-shirt. His voice is somewhere between groggy and whiny and her lips tug upwards into a gentle, sympathetic smile. When she slots her fingers in-between his, her body immediately settles like a puzzle piece that’s found its match.

“I have to get ready for work,” she whispers back, thumb brushing over his. He shakes his head and gives an even more grumbled voice to his displeasure, and then shifts closer until his head is almost on her pillow and his arm cages her in completely. 

“You’re the boss. You can go in when you want.” 

Her eyes roll but she can’t deny how comfortable the weight of his arm is and how much she wants to slip her legs back under the covers and tangle them with his. Still, old habits and new responsibilities. 

“I’m not the boss,” she counters, holding back the urge to turn and run a hand through his hair. “And Paloma has an appointment at 8:30, so I have to get there by 8.” 

She hears him lift his head up and can picture his expression—eyes narrowed in contemplation and mouth open before he captures his bottom lip with his teeth. The look burrows underneath her skin.

“That’s in two hours.” 

Sighing, she shakes her head but it’s a sweet kind of exasperation that fills her stomach, the kind that makes her wonder what she did to deserve him. Sunlight hasn’t even started to slip in through the blinds yet and there’s no early morning birdsong from the backyard. Even Duke seems to still be asleep. 

“Yeah, but I have to shower and get ready.” She says, though the conviction in her tone is waning, and he snuggles even closer. 

“Takes thirty minutes.” 

“And I have to make breakfast.” 

“Breakfast burritos in the freezer.” 

“Well—” but she can feel how dry the straws are that she’s grasping at. Can feel his hot breath on her wrist bone. “Traffic?” 

“You don’t even take the freeway.” 

He’s right. It would maybe be infuriating if she wasn’t so damn content. 

Maybe old habits only die hard if you let them, she thinks. The low humming noise of her thoughts catches his attention. 

“What’s that, Babe?” 

“Nothing,” she huffs, swinging her legs back onto the mattress and pulling the covers up to her chest, just underneath his arm. “Scooch over.” 

A half-cocked smile graces his lips, just one shallow dimple barely visible in the darkness, and he shuffles back to his side of the bed but keeps her t-shirt loose in his hand. Underneath the warmth of the blankets once more, she takes a deep breath as all the tension drains from her muscles. One of her ankles locks with his and her ear is flush against his steady heartbeat, arms holding one another close. 

“Happy?” She whispers. 

He kisses her forehead and nestles further into her, balancing just on the edge of falling back asleep. 

“Mmhmm. Perfect.” 

[shadow-sandiego-shipping]

Daily prompts - Day 15

When winter comes

When winter comes, shrubs die in the snow.

When winter comes, the world turns on its vows. The animals sleep the plants comatose.

When winter comes, I protect all my toes because the cold weather reminds me of memories old.

I once had a close call a winter long ago, I forgot my coat, and for hours, I froze.

When winter comes, I always think of you. Because there is nothing in common between the winter and thou.

You are warm and caring. You are summer and spring. So stay close during the winter, I'm begging you, stay...

I crave not only your heat, your gentle touch, I crave laying in a couch and watching movies, and our talks. I crave your gaze, which warms me and shakes me to the core. I crave everything you're willing to give me. And I crave more.

Because the winter is the season when everything dies, so stay with me, so in spring, we may blossom in ties.

Maybe that lonely winter left more scars than I care to admit for.

Maybe I should see a therapist... perhaps I will.

In the meantime, my love never leave my side, you're my angel during winter, my stove, my light.

We'll watch the stars in the night, light a bonfire by our feet.

Laugh about old times, reminiscing on our feats.

Forever and ever as long as you'll be mine, we will make it a tradition to spend the winter in tide.

So when winter comes, do me a favor so. Spend with me and take away the cold.

Previous day // Promps Aquired from Write App. // Next day