#hhhh this was so precious :(

[gunsatthaphan]

#bby wants bby gets.

[mellow-mewow]

18+, MDNI.

Imagine Choso rutting into you in a random room while you guys are at some party. Choso's a very vocal man, so he's obviously moaning loudly. But then you put your palm over his mouth, telling him to shush. He immediately stops thrusting, leaving only his tip in you. His eyes turns glassy, as if tears are about to roll down, "do you hate my voice?". His words fills you with guilt, making your brows furrows. You immediately remove your palm from his mouth and cups his cheeks lovingly instead. "No, Choso. I love it but-", your sentence is cut off and replaced by a yelp when he suddenly thrusts a bit too harshly into you, balls deep. Your assurance made him so happy that his body automatically moves on its own. And this time you don't bother covering his mouth as you're being fuck silly by him.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Dancing with the devil...

@estelletheskeleton forgot to add this here but here you go >:Dc

[pan-gya]

it's always really nice when it rains in sumeru I think...

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

me when i can’t decide between writing a fluffy achey teen satoru drabble or a kinda angsty hurt/comfort cult leader geto drabble or a sickeningly fluffy hurt/comfort stsg fic ……….. 😔😔😔

[killuaisaprincess]

CUTIE

[usagimen]

As a result of today's events, Sayuri has symbolically returned to small chaos within the Kobayashi clan! One of the aunties within the facility ran back indoors hollering;     tasukete Bakemono!

Mimiko and Nanako would run toward Sayuri with chittering giggles, imprisoning her within tight embraces where they would adhere like leeches to her sides, '' Happy birthday!! We brought you a giant cake, a lot of usagi plushies and-- ! '' Until from afar, they were disrupted by more masculine voice and claps of hands: ' come on, girls, she just came in let her breathe for a bit too. ' And to that they would reply: ' haaaaaai! ~ ' While this was happening, Geto himself was engaging in some suspicious activity. The reason for screaming personnel was now crystal clear for there was a dragon nesting in the gardens of the clan and pulling together with the cultist on the string attached to some huge birthday box they tried to carefully position on the table; because why not start with cake.

'' Whoops, looks like we messed up timing, you're back earlier than we expected, Happy birthday, Sayuri-chan! "

           𝑾𝙝𝒂𝙩 𝙞𝒔 𝒕𝙝𝒊𝙨? The sudden tranquility is erupted, the black dog growls && barks as the constant shrieking is heard. Though, it does not hold malice only annoyance, her lips curl into a quirk as she tries to understand. “Okami, obey” she beckons him as the canine kneels, growling that still rings within the air. What has happened since she set foot to handle each client? Flowers that were bundled in her arms, other Geiko’s who congratulate the Kobayashi heiress, wishing to garner their own blessing in the guise of benevolence. As she blinks, the sudden appearance of both young girls causes her to understand the weight of such mayhem, she should have known. “Oh my, you two wish to spoil me? Your presence is enough for such a wondrous day” the hem of her blackened kimono is held within her grasp, no time to remove even the shawl delicately entwined around her arms as she is held firm.

          The attendants rush by in a flurry, her calm demeanor breaks the panic, “Bring them tea && see to it our guest are treated properly, don’t worry, everything will remain well” the look of shock is quickly dismissed, she hadn’t the time to listen to arguing or the ramblings of how their sanctum was pierced. If anything, it caused her bow to raise as venomous eyes softened, “Girls, since it’s my birthday - no secrets! Now, tell me, what is the commotion? Okami is in a frenzy, I’m surprised he hasn't shown his human face yet” there it was. Holding back the laughter starting to gather in her stomach, it was interrupted by the sight of the massive dragon among the wisteria tree (the prying eyes of various figures carefully watching).

     Just as she was released, her shoulders dropped as she pressed her fingertips to the bridge of her nose, “I should have known! How dare you use these two for the fake lull of security, this is why they are far more charming” the faux anger was without bite, her tongue that held no sharpness only that of mirth could not help but to echo the remnants of what her beating her wished for. Quickly, without thought a gentle kiss on the forehead was exchanged to both Mimiko && Nanako, “Cake is always delightful but I must admit this spectacle makes for an exciting day” then, her attention turned.

         With arms crossed, the elegance of her stature was shattered as she reached forth to gently grasp the tip of his nose, “Troublemaker! This is the oldest wisteria tree we have, the heart of our grand garden, it holds our secrets - alas, you should have checked my schedule one of our dearest clients decided to reschedule that is why I am here” crimson lips that outstretched as her hands clasped together, somehow, it was far more pleasant than adhering to polite customs. Mischievous && carefree, she could feel each palpitation within her chest drumming against her ribcage. “Regardless, I am thankful for all three of you, but…!” clasping her hands together, the small bounce within her step came from excitement, radiant in her moon-like image as she chirped.

      “Cake is better shared with beloved company, even if one of our guest tends to be too naughty for his own good. Let’s celebrate together, I doubt this birthday will ever be forgotten”   

[princey-talks]

Being the big scary dog fully devoted to my little puppy's every want and need>>>>

[decembermoonskz]

me after p9-12…

[sasayakc]

      Watches everyone from a distance.

[galaghiel]

Of course i gave my chocolate to Emiya and received one from Serenity hehehehe

[digital--dreamer]

The more i learn about you

the more i realize you are my type

and you already are *very* much my type

Youre too precious 🥺🥺🥺

Why are you SO CUTE 🥲

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

AFTERMARE WEEK: day 3- light and heavy

a wedding ring; usually made of gold, platinum, or silver. it's given by one partner to the other as a symbol of commitment

such a small and deceptively light object should not be very heavy, but that does not prevent it from holding the crushing weight it's promise implies.

aftermare week is hosted by @bluepallilworld

[killuaisaprincess]

chivalry

“Here. Let me kiss it better, Your Highness.”

Gon takes his small, delicate hand gently and brings it up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the red spot.

He lowers it carefully, and Killua pulls it back, shyly holding it to his chest, blushing.

He bites on his lower lip, just enough…

“K-Kiss me here too…”

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

i'm adopting them your honor<3333

Happy birthday Celest and Luna Part 4 (final)

Keep reading

[sh1-n0bu]

I’d like to order some nsfw genshin impact SAGAU stuff:

More specifically, its when the Creator uses a vessel different from Wanderer, their main, and he gets jealous all the time.

So, when they descend on teyvat, one of the first things they do is fuck the jealousy out of him so badly he cant speak. (Yes its overstimulation because MAN…)

♡︎ 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙙 ♡︎

characters: sub!AFAB!wanderer (or scaramouche) x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, dacryphillia, jealousy, oral fixation, squirting, fingering, slight cult-ish and religious undertones

notes: hhhh my first sagau smut

kabukimono adored the creator.

how could he not? he was just a mere creation and a vessel of the god of all gods.

the first to tell the poor, discarded puppet of you was niwa. when seeing how everyone in tatarasuna worshipped a being called divine creator, the poor puppet couldn’t help his own curiosity and ask. in response, niwa patiently explained to him how there was once an ancient being. a god of all gods. one who even reigned over the archons, celestia itself. one who created teyvat, blessed it with life and in their weakened state, went to an eternal rest.

kabukimono adored the creator with the hollow remains of where his heart is meant to be. an empty shell filling with fuzzy feelings, smile spreading on his face whenever he goes to pray at your shrine, offerings of small yet precious things left in your altar. he only hoped it would please your soul.

kunikuzushi has secret reverence and respect for the creator.

you took away his friend, his home, his family and yet he still hopes for your guidance. carrying hope in the shape of a small wooden carving that he made, which he clutches closely to his chest.

during restless nights and moments when he feels himself slipping, losing hope, losing sight of loving you — he clutches the wooden carving to his chest. tight, tight to the point it leaves a dent in his pale hand and whispers into it. how he wishes to be in your care. how he hopes that you didn’t abandon him. how he hopes that your loving arms would hold him one day. how you are the only source of life he has.

how all the blood he shed was meant for you. a sacrifice for you. to appease you. to bring you back to teyvat. to see you in flesh.

kunikuzushi has secret reverence and respect for the creator.

scaramouche despises the creator.

you left him. when his own mother betrayed him and left him alone, he was lucky to be found by nagamasa. he was lucky that niwa was kind enough to let him stay at tatarasuna. how you were so cruel that even after all the metal and iron, gold and silver he molded and modeled to make tiny offerings to your altar. how you were twisted to give him small slivers of hopes in the form of niwa and the sick child, yet to take them away.

he hates you. despises you. loathes you. every little altar he sees, he hopes to destroy it. every statue of you he glimpses at, he uses his delusion to shock the old and eroded stone until it breaks and crumbles. oh, how badly he wished to do the same to you.

the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers won’t even hesitate for a split second to spit on your name even in the presence of the tsaritsa. childe always looks down on him whenever he does. the ginger’s hands twitching, delusion and vision mixing up together as he tries his best to hold himself back from jumping on the short arrogant puppet.

and yet despite it all… scaramouche still clutches the small wooden carving of you. holding it close to his chest as he secretly whispers in his mind how much he wishes to please you. the puppet only hopes all the bodies he piled up would satisfy you, even just a little bit.

wanderer loves you dearly.

he has been wrong this whole time. you were never twisted, never sick in the head nor heart, never wishing to manipulate him, never wishing harm or pain upon anything. you were gentle. loving. every life form you passed by would swoon and sway, hoping to touch you. even touching your clothes or robes would be enough.

when be first got his vision, he heard your voice in his head. it was the same loving warmth that enveloped the traveler. it was warm, gentle, loving but still not fully there. when he protected the traveler and the floating thing, he could hear you cheer for him. for him.

but when an array of shooting stars engulfed the fake skies, wanderer looks up as always. blue ones, purple ones and then he felt it. a certain pull in his chest. like how red strings of fate tugs on your pinky in all those fairytales.

and he follows.

running, running, running — until he eventually reaches an odd place. a clear sky, one that looked real and one that cradled him in a gentle warmth.

“yeeesss!! you’re finally home! welcome home, wanderer!” a voice rings in his head loud and clear. excitement, happiness, elation, joy, pride — all sorts of emotions bubble in him, ready to burst out. but instead it fell down in the form of a tear. a happy tear.

it was you. it was the creator. the all-knowing, all-loving one. and you wanted him! him of all people! and you were happy that you had him!

yet wanderer doesn’t get it.

if you loved him so much, wanted him, pre-farmed for him as you said and even got his signature weapon, why were you using someone else? why use that cocky cryo user from mondstadt? why use his brother who is equally cocky but knows how to keep it hidden? why use that annoying old archon who flaunts that he is your oldest and most devout follower? or even the yashirou commissioner!

was he not enough? was he not strong enough? did you needed to “farm” for his talent materials? if so, no need! he already went ahead and got them for you when you logged out! everything to make him the perfect dps as you called is all there and ready!

strange.

why was your other characters are all either dead or on 1hp when you log in? only wanderer is there — your main — in full hp. standing proud and cocky with the same grin.

——

it’s tough to be a god.

no seriously. all jokes and that damn catchy song aside, it was indeed tough to be a god. especially when all these powerful people who can literally control elements and even gods themselves were worshipping you. how can you be a god of all gods?

well, you found out the answer to that question on one of your earlier days when you got a little bit too curious. all in the form of an ichor bleeding out of your palm that you sliced. and perhaps a bit pressured too. after all, being put on a pedestal for everyone to see and worship and grovel to is hard to deal with. especially when you were suddenly thrown into a world that you thought was only fictional!

but there was also something else that was incredibly, unbelievably, astoundingly hard to deal with was your main. the puppet who was abandoned. the short, sarcastic asshole. but never towards you! he would hate to make you even slightest bit sad or angry.

and yet he does it anyways.

going out of his way to stalk down some poor merchant you like buying things from to buy most of their stock so you won’t visit the merchant’s shop again. picking fights with your acolytes when you show the slightest hint of favoritism. hell, he almost killed childe. but of course, the battle lusted ginger loved the thrill and had asked for more future fights.

which all led to here. him getting his well deserved punishment.

poor wanderer thinking he was all too slick. how he was doing everything behind your back so you wouldn’t know anything. how you would stay innocent to his actions while he goes and picks another fight. but you noticed. every single jealousy inflicted actions wanderer had pulled and orchestrated, you knew.

anyone could walk in right now and see what was happening. anyone of your pathetic other acolytes could walk in and see how good you were fucking him. fingers knuckles deep into his cunt, fucking him so good, so deep.

and dear stars and you, wanderer wanted that. he wanted those pathetic worshippers to see how you favored him above them.

wanderer had lost his sense of self and mind long time ago. the moment you wrapped your hand around his throat to manhandle his tiny body to sit on your lap, his mind was gone. a blank sheet of paper.

the puppet doesn’t remember how many orgasms you’ve wrung out of him but he loved it. he wanted it. he wanted more. he wanted your fingers to fuck him open.

in his hazy mind, lust ridden babbles and overstimulated body, he can feel it. how your other hand is keeping his labia spread open. how you apply pressure around his cunt. how your fingers are squelching into him, creating a filthy wet shlick! shlick! noises.

how your hand keeping his labia open goes to tug on his clit. pinching the bud of muscle as he writhes and screams in your lap. squirting over your fingers again like a common brothel whore. and he loved it. by the stars above, he loved it.

because deep in his most depraved part of mind, wanderer knew that he was a whore. your whore. your common brothel cheap whore. your whore who would spread open his legs for you if you asked for it. who would eagerly finger himself so he can provide you with some sort of entertainment. who would take your hand and guide it inside his shorts, not even bothering to wear undergarments, so he can give you easier access.

he doesn’t remember. doesn’t want to remember how many times he came. when you place him on your own throne, legs propped on both sides on the armrest, his wet, slick covered pussy and hardened sensitive clit for the world to see, all he can think about is how good it feels.

when you get down on your knees in front of him, it feels like a sacrilege. shouldn’t it be him who’s on his knees in front of you, trying and hoping to please you?

yet all of his thoughts fly out the window when your fingers stretch his sensitive pussy open again. fingers hooked on the inside slightly, just enough to open up his inner labia and for you to admire his gaping hole. waiting eagerly for you to claim it once again.

“your gra—aanhg!! grace! grace! your grace!! f-feelsh good. feelsh good feelsh goodfeelsgoodgoodgood ghk—! aammh!♥︎“ the jealous puppet whines and babbles on, your title falling over his lips over and over like a mantra as he drools. mind long gone, sanity on the thin line between delirium and lucidity. struggling to comprehend just what is happening.

he feels your mouth on him. tongue lapping at his juice greedily like an insatiable animal while he struggles to keep his legs open. hand twitching, hesitating for a moment before he grips onto your hair tightly — his only anchor. he can feel everything too greatly.

body sensitive, pushed over the boundaries of his virgin state. he could feel how you suck on his sensitive clit, forcing him to squirt into your mouth.

if this was how you would treat him to stop his jealousy induced rampages, maybe wanderer should do it more often.