#i love clouds. did you know i love clouds

[joeyfranchise]

clouds in my coffee

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: everyone says joe is cocky, arrogant, self-centered… why do you keep letting him take you home?

warnings: explicit sexual content 18+, MDNI. mentions of alcohol/drinking.

word count: 2.2k. (much like general grievous, this fic was shorter than i expected.)

note: omg it’s been a while since i posted a joe fic… but i’m so back. i miss you guys and love you ♥️

every head in the building turned to watch joe burrow stroll through the door. you’d seen it happen many times, any time you wound up at the same event he was at, his natural gravitational pull drew all eyes and all attention.

he waded through the bodies with an effortless confidence, his aura hung heavy over the room like a fresh blanket of fog rolling in. his sunglasses sat low on the bridge of his nose and you could’ve sworn you saw him eyeing himself in one of the windows he passed - but could you blame him?

any man who looked that good, had that physique, that confidence… joe deserved to feel good about himself. the stats didn’t lie, despite the difficult seasons he’d unfortunately endured the past few years, he was the best in the league. nobody could really argue that he wasn’t, and anyone who did spewed baseless nonsense in defense of their own sub-par quarterback.

his friends flanked his sides as he continued to roam farther into the party, they were all poised just like joe, their heads were held high.

you knew all the girls here dreamt of being his partner, those who surrounded him at every gathering hung on to his every word… but you also had the strange satisfaction of knowing that at every shared event you both attended, he’d end up taking you home.

despite his big reputation, you liked joe. there was just something about him that drew you in.

at some point in the night he’d make his way over to you and buy you a drink, or lean in and whisper in your ear seductively - and sometimes he didn’t have to say a word to you. he’d glance over his shoulder toward the door and you would follow him wordlessly out to his car.

this time would be no different, but you intended to play coy. you sat alone at the bar, your presence innocuous as the party raged on around you. you were hyper-aware that joe had already seen you, and you could feel his gaze burning into your back as your body was faced in the opposite direction.

you ordered a rum and coke, something fairly light, and you didn’t plan on finishing it. you took a few sips as you listened to the chatter of conversations around you, and you took out your phone to lazily check your notifications.

the girl next to you droned on to her friend about the boy problems she was having and you forced back a giggle as you saw her friend roll her eyes for what seemed like the fiftieth time. you scrolled through your text notifications and your instagram feed as you waited for joe to approach you, just like you knew he would.

after waiting for what felt like forever, you turned your head to see if you could find joe somewhere in the crowd, and you did. he sat at a round table with his friends. a few girls sat close to them, but they weren’t necessarily on top of the group. as if he could feel you looking, joe’s eyes met yours and he raised an eyebrow playfully. you jokingly rolled your eyes at him before turning back to your phone and taking a sip of your drink.

seconds later you could feel his dominating aura behind you, and the girls next to you suddenly went quiet. joe picked up your drink and took a swig, slightly grimacing at the rum as it burned his throat.

you bit back a laugh as you eyed him up and down. “you look good,” you told him, a careful attempt at complimenting him without stroking his ego. “mhm,” he agreed, leaning into you, “so do you.”

the girls next to you were now completely enthralled with the scene playing out before them, their eyes wide with bewilderment. joe’s breath fanned over your face as he continued to lean in, all the way down until his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. “wanna leave?” he teased, his teeth grazing over your earlobe.

“what if i don’t wanna go with you tonight?” you countered, much to his surprise. he pulled back, wide eyes searching yours as he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “you… don’t want to come with me?” he asked, pointing back and forth between the two of you. you giggled at him before hopping off your stool and grabbing your things. you extended your hand toward his and he took it, eyeing you up and down.

“take me home, hot-shot,” you winked.

he didn’t need any further coercing. joe led you out of the crowded party and immediately to his car, opening the door for you so you could slide in just as you had many times before.

you weren’t sure what spurred it, what always kept you naturally drawn to each other like this — but you weren’t complaining. he quickly backed the car out and pulled into the road, heading straight for his house.

his hand found purchase on your thigh, his long calloused fingers squeezing over the flesh as his other hand white-knuckled the steering wheel. had your attempt at a joke pissed him off? you weren’t sure.

you kept your eyes trained on the road as your breathing started to quicken, all due to joe’s hand slowly sliding up your leg and closer to your throbbing core. you gasped as you approached a red light and joe finally turned his gaze toward you, the apples of his cheeks burning red as he dipped his fingers into your panties and scooped up some of your wetness before he traced the calloused pads over your clit.

that was why he was gripping the steering wheel so hard… it wasn’t that he was angry, he was just ridiculously horny. maybe it had been the alcohol he consumed, maybe it was knowing he’d get to take you home and fuck you silly… maybe it was all that wrapped up together.

the light turned green but joe didn’t notice, his focus was on the soft gasps he was pulling from your mouth as his fingertips continued to work over your sensitive nub. you’d begun to spread your legs wider for him, arching your back against the seat as he quickly worked you up to your high.

but then, a car behind you beeped their horn rapidly. joe pulled his fingers from your heat and gripped the wheel again, his foot pressing down on the gas hard to accelerate the car. you weren’t far from his house, and you silently pleaded not to hit any more red lights, you needed him bad.

joe continued to speed all the way home and quickly whipped his car into the driveway, barely putting it in park before he was jumping out and running over to your side and opening your door. you stepped out too, walking the short distance to the stairs and following him up.

joe quickly unlocked the door and pulled you inside, his hands finding your hips immediately as he pushed your back against the wall in the entryway. he leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth as his knee slipped between your legs. he moved it up, slightly bumping it against your clit and you whined into his mouth. he pulled back from you and smirked at your already disheveled looks.

you gave him a wide-eyed gaze and he laughed before gesturing down the hallway. “you know where my room is, go ahead. i’ll be there in a sec.”

you furrowed your brow at him before following his command and heading to his room. once inside you slipped off your shoes before sitting gingerly on the edge of his bed, your hands resting on your knees.

he strolled in moments later and your mouth gaped open as you noticed he was already shirtless. “not in the mood for games tonight, i take it?” you asked him, looking him up and down.

“i’m not,” he shrugged, walking over and closing the distance between you. his hands reached around you until the found the zipper of your dress and he pulled it down as far as he could while you were sitting.

you stood from the bed and shrugged it off unceremoniously — you’d been with joe too many times to care about something so trivial. your clothes would end up on the floor each time anyway, so who cared about looking sexy while taking them off?

joe smirked at you and looked you up and down again, appreciating the navy blue lingerie set you had worn underneath your dress.

he slid his finger under the strap of your bra, pulling it forward and letting it go so that it smacked back against your shoulder with a loud pop. “this one’s pretty, baby,” he teased, walking you backwards until your body met the bed again, “too bad it won’t be on much longer.”

joe lifted you and sat you on top of the bed before reconnecting his lips to yours. his hands skillfully undid the clasp of your bra and he tossed it aside before attacking the column of your neck and shoulders with kisses and nips. when his lips finally wrapped around one of your pert nipples your body shuddered, and he laughed.

he used his thumb and forefinger to roll and pinch the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth, leaving you a whiny mess already beneath his touch. your hands tangled into his hair and you pull him off your breast with a loud pop to look him directly in the eyes.

“i’m not in the mood for games either, okay?” you challenged, a weak attempt at letting him know you meant business. he let out another low laugh. you could see he was already rock hard, it was evident by the very large tent in his pants, and you could feel how sticky wet you were with every shift of your panties against your core.

joe knew you wanted it and you were ready, the ball was in his court now. he pulled away from you to shuck off his pants and boxers and you used the opportunity to move up toward the pillows, encasing yourself with his scent as you waited for him to please you.

he crawled on top of you and pressed soft kisses to your stomach as he slid your panties down your legs, adding them to the pile of clothing that was accumulating on his bedroom floor. before he could continue to press any more kisses to your body you grabbed him, hauling him up toward you and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“no games, please. i need you, i need this. fuck me,” you pleaded… and who would he be to deny you of that? he pressed your legs to your chest and held them there with one arm as his other hand gripped his cock, pumping it a few times before slowly sliding into you. the pleasure was immediate, the feeling of being stuffed full took over your senses as joe pushed all the way into you and rested there.

you barely waited any time before you were scratching your nails down his forearm, signaling for him to move. he started with slow shallow thrusts and you let a few soft moans fall from your lips. joe let go of your legs so you could spread wider for him and pressed his chest to yours.

his hands were now holding a bruising grip on your hips and he dug his fingers into your skin as he began to thrust harder. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and laboured breathing, and soft moans that fell from both of your lips.

joe’s fingers skillfully found your clit again and he began rubbing tight circles into you. your climax was approaching fast but you didn’t care, you knew you’d end up going a few more rounds before the night was over, that’s how it always worked.

joe knew the ins-and-outs of the exchange too, so when you warned him you were close and he said he was too, you knew he wouldn’t bother pulling out to cum. he knew very well that you were on birth control, he’d been in this situation with you far too many times to count.

he continued pistoning his hips into yours and the force kept driving you up the bed, so much so that you had to press a hand to the headboard to keep your head from smacking against it. joe was determined to get you both there quickly and with one more particularly hard thrust you were knocked over the edge, enveloped into toe curling pleasure.

you took deep breaths as joe worked you through it, he came just as you did. both of you were sweaty and needed a moment to catch your breath. he rolled off you quickly and gathered all of your clothes, throwing them into a bin next to his dresser.

you sat up and watched as he trudged toward the door, most likely headed to get some water. you admired your lovely partner’s ass and the way his back muscles rippled as he reached out for the door handle.

“babe?” you called, waiting for his response. your boyfriend then turned to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he answered. “yeah?” he said, laughing as he saw you waddling toward the bathroom.

“next time we do this role-play shit, i’m picking you up from the bar,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

he laughs too, then answers. “better not ever tell me you aren’t coming home with me again, then.”

photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.

taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @slimshiesty @yelenasbraid

[amoressb]

───── LIKE HIM ? 박성훈 P. SH

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ there are times where sunghoon wishes he was…like him ｡｡ bf!sunghoon x reader. angst , fluff & wc. 1.06k ; insecurity , reassurance , skinship ｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

the rain drummed softly against the apartment windows, it’s steady rhythm filling the quiet space. sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his elbows resting on the worn wooden surface, his hands clasped together. he stared down at his coffee, now cold and untouched, his thoughts heavier than the storm clouds outside.

your laughter carried faintly from the living room. you were on the couch, scrolling through your phone and watching videos. normally, the sound of your laughter eased sunghoon, made him feel like everything in the world was okay for a moment but tonight, it only made the knot in his stomach tighten.

sunghoon wasn’t blind to the differences between himself and your ex, eathen. he’s seen the photos on your social media—snapshots of eathen holding you close, planting kisses on your cheek, or wrapping his arms around your waist in public like he couldn’t bear to let you go. eathen had been open, warm, and effortlessly romantic. sunghoon… wasn’t. he loved you deeply, but he wasn’t good at expressing it in the same way. he didn’t instinctively reach for your hand in public or shower you with compliments.

he wondered if you missed that.

the thought gnawed at him until he couldn’t take it anymore. he pushed his chair back, the sound scraping against the floor, and stood. your head turned toward the sound, your face lighting up when you saw him. “hey,” you said warmly. “i was wondering when you were going to come join me.”

sunghoon hesitated in the doorway. “can we…talk for a second?”

your smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of concern. you put your phone down and sat up straight, patting the seat next to you. “of course, come here.”

he walked over slowly, sitting down beside you but leaving a small gap between. you noticed immediately and scooted closer, resting your hand on his knee. “what’s wrong?”

sunghoon looked down at your hand for a moment, then took a deep breath. “do you ever… wish i was different?” he asked quietly.

you blinked, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”

“like… do you ever wish i was more like eathen?” the words felt heavy in his mouth, but he forced them out. “he was so good at showing you how much he cared. he always knew the right things to say, the right things to do and i’m just…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “i’m not like that. i’m not good at being affectionate and i know i come off as cold sometimes. i just… i don’t want you to feel like i don’t love you because i don’t show it the way he did.”

your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. you shifted closer, your hand moving to his cheek to gently turn his face toward hers. “hoon,” you said softly, “where is this coming from?”

he shrugged, avoiding your eyes. “i just… i think about it a lot. you deserve someone who can give you all those little romantic things. someone who’s warm and expressive and can make you feel loved all the time and i don’t know if i’m that guy.”

your expression softened as you listened. you let your hand drop to his, lacing your fingers with his. “hoon,” you began gently, “i don’t want you to be eathen. i don’t want you to be anyone but you.”

“but what if that’s not enough?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“it is,” you said firmly. “you’re enough. you think i don’t notice the way you show me you care? you do it in your own way and it means more to me than anything eathen ever did. you don’t hold my hand all the time, but you always make sure i’m okay. you bring me my favorite snacks when i don’t ask for them. you remember the things i say, even when i forget i said them. that’s love, hoon.”

sunghoon looked at you, his doubt still lingering but softened by your words. you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. he stiffened at first, but your warmth was impossible to resist. slowly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and let himself relax into your embrace, his head resting on your shoulder.

“come on,” you murmured, guiding him to lie down on the couch with you. you tugged him gently until he was resting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the cushions in a way that felt grounding.

he opened his mouth to protest, but you shushed him softly, your hand moving to the back of his head. “just let me hold you for a bit, okay?”

he closed his eyes, letting himself sink into your touch. your fingers threaded through his hair, your other hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back. you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, then another, your lips lingering as if trying to imprint reassurance into him.

“you’re everything to me,” you whispered against his hair. “you don’t have to be anyone else. you don’t have to do grand gestures or say all the right words. just being here with me, like this, is all i’ve ever wanted.”

sunghoon’s arms tightened around you as your words washed over him, his chest aching in a way that felt both painful and healing.

“i love you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “i love the way you care, even when you don’t think it’s enough. i love your quiet moments, your thoughtfulness, the way you see me. you’re more than enough, hoon…always.”

he didn’t respond, but you could feel his breathing start to slow, his body growing heavier against yours as he began to drift off. you continued to rub his back and press soft kisses to his head, whispering sweet nothings into the quiet room.

“you’re my everything,” you said softly. “my home, my safe place.”

the rain continued to fall outside as you held him close, your love for him pouring out in every touch, every whispered word. sunghoon, for the first time in weeks, felt his doubts quiet, replaced by the steady beat of your heart beneath his ear.

as he fell asleep in your arms, he realized that maybe he didn’t need to be perfect. maybe just being himself was all you ever wanted.

[scriobh-an-iontas]

The dream comes after a particularly bad day. Your children seem to be celebrating, or mourning, Aslan. It's a name you've heard them say, but you don't know who or what this Aslan is. Only that today is "his day". You want to hold them, to tell them that it's alright. You want them to fight like they did, to laugh and love like they did, like they did when the world made sense, and the sky didn't burn from war. You want to howl, to scream, to beg your children who are not children to be your children again. All these, and more, but you cannot. Something has taken this from them, from you, and it wasn't the war, no matter how much you tell yourself it was.

They whisper to each other on this day, and look at you like they've only just noticed you, really noticed you, for the first time since they got back from the country. You excuse yourself, unsure as to why you need to excuse yourself from your children in your own home, but you do, and you go to your bed, and you dream.

You dream of a vast garden, one full of trees with the ripest fruits, fruits you've never seen, but that you somehow know.

"Eat, Helen Pevensie, and be restored," says a deep voice.

You look up, and before you is a lion. Not a tame lion, though. Never a tame lion.

You know you should smell the sweetness of the fruit, but at that moment, you can only smell rot.

"I will not eat. You cannot give me a fruit and expect me to forget what you have stolen from me, child thief," you say. You don't know why you say it. That doesn't make it less true.

The lion ...

The lion diminishes, then looks away.

"They came of their own accord. Even if I had not called them here, if they had come under their own power, they would not have changed in their course, to come, and to stay. Their return was the only mercy I could offer," the lion says, as if that could change what he did.

"But you didn't return them!" you cry, months of sorrow bursting forward and striking the lion like a charger's lance. "You stripped them of who they were and who they had become and sent what was left to me! You broke them into pieces and sent those shards back after you had used them up, and call it a mercy? Jesus protect me from your cruelty!"

The lion winces, then speaks. "Will you walk with me?" the lion asks. "I wish to show you what they were called to protect."

You want to say no, but you think of your children, those strangers in your home, then steel yourself and walk towards, then next to, the lion.

You and the lion walk deeper into the garden, until you reach the ledge of a cliff. You know that it's high above the clouds, or it would be, on any other day. Today, though, the sight is clear.

Below is a beautiful country. Everything you could ever imagine to be a perfect land is here, you know it in your heart. The stories you told your children, when they were still your children, are alive here. Thriving. Happy. You know that if you went into that country, you'd see dryads, talking animals, tree-folk, magic.

"This place is not my country, not truly, but it is dear to me. It was trapped under the power of a terrible witch, until your children came, your sons of Adam and daughters of Eve. They destroyed the power of the witch, and freed it, and ruled it, ruled it well. They spoke of you, Helen Pevensie. They missed you."

You turn to face the lion. His eyes are wet with tears, as are yours.

"I am so sorry. If there had been another way, I would have taken it. There were none. So eat, Helen Pevensie, and be restored."

You take a final look at the land below, knowing somehow that you will never see it again, and go back into the garden. The lion follows you, saying nothing. You go from tree to tree, not sure what you are looking for, until suddenly you do. It looks a bit like an apple tree, and a bit like what toffee might look like if it was a fruit. Yet, in this garden, in this place, it is also moreso. It smells of home, and of here.

You take the fruit.

You eat it.

Each bite brings with it a memory of your children, as they were before they left, and as they are now, and of memories of them in this place. Not perfect visions, but living pictures, perhaps.

When you finish, you turn back to the lion.

"You aren't done with them yet, are you?" you say. It isn't a question, but neither is it an accusation.

"No," says the lion, his great shaggy mane tossing as he shakes his head. "But I will not again keep them away to myself, that I promise you. I will not say that they will return unchanged, but they will return in life and spirit as they left," says the lion.

You don't say thank you. That would be too much, and it would be a lie. The lion has taken so much already. This is the least he could do. But you nod, and you understand.

When you wake up, you feel refreshed, and restored.

When you walk down the stairs from your bedroom into the room your children are in, you feel, for a moment, as if you are their mother again.

You sit with them. You smile at your daughters, and at your sons. Then you speak.

"So. Tell me about Aslan."

They smile back at you, and they begin to chatter.

you have invited strangers into your home, helen pevensie, mother of four.

without the blurred sight of joy and relief, it has become impossible to ignore. all the love inside you cannot keep you from seeing the truth. your children are strangers to you. the country has seen them grow taller, your youngest daughter’s hair much longer than you would have it all years past. their hands have more strength in them, their voices ring with an odd lilt and their eyes—it has become hard to look at them straight on, hasn’t it? your children have changed, helen, and as much as you knew they would grow a little in the time away from you, your children have become strangers.

your youngest sings songs you do not know in a language that makes your chest twist in odd ways. you watch her dance in floating steps, bare feet barely touching the dewy grass. when you try and make her wear her sister’s old shoes—growing out of her own faster than you think she ought to—, she looks at you as though you are the child instead of her. her fingers brush leaves with tenderness, and you swear your daughter’s gentle hum makes the drooping plant stand taller than before. you follow her eager leaps to her siblings, her enthusiasm the only thing you still recognise from before the country. yet, she laughs strangely, no longer the giggling girl she used to be but free in a way you have never seen. her smile can drop so fast now, her now-old eyes can turn distant and glassy, and her tears, now rarer, are always silent. it scares you to wonder what robbed her of the heaving sobs a child ought to make use of in the face of upset.

your other daughter—older than your youngest yet still at an age that she cannot be anything but a child—smiles with all the knowledge in the world sitting in the corner of her mouth. her voice is even, without all traces of the desperate importance her peers carry still, that she used to fill her siblings’ ears with at all hours of the day. she folds her hands in her lap with patience and soothes the ache of war in your mind before you even realise she has started speaking. you watch her curl her hair with careful, steady fingers and a straight back, her words a melody as she tells your eldest which move to make without so much a glance at the board off to her right. she reads still, and what a relief you find this sliver of normalcy, even if she’s started taking notes in a shorthand you couldn’t even think to decipher. even if you feel her slipping away, now more like one of the young, confident women in town than a child desperately wishing for a mother’s approval.

your younger son reads plenty as well these days, and it fills you with pride. he is quiet now, sitting still when you find him bent over a book in the armchair of his father. he looks at you with eyes too knowing for a petulant child on the cusp of puberty, and no longer beats his fists against the furniture when one of his siblings dares approach him. he has settled, you realise one evening when you walk into the living room and find him writing in a looping script you don’t recognise, so different from the scratched signature he carved into the doors of your pantry barely a year ago. he speaks sense to your youngest and eldest, respects their contributions without jest. you watch your two middle children pass a book back and forth, each a pen in hand and sheets of paper bridging the gap between them, his face opening up with a smile rather than a scowl. it freezes you mid-step to find such simple joy in him. remember when you sent them away, helen, and how long it had been since he allowed you to see a smile then?

your eldest doesn’t sleep anymore. none of your children care much for bedtimes these days, but at least sleep still finds them. it’s not restful, you know it from the startled yelps that fill the house each night, but they sleep. your eldest makes sure of it. you have not slept through a night since the war began, so it’s easy to discover the way he wanders the halls like a ghost, silent and persistent in a duty he carries with pride. each door is opened, your children soothed before you can even think to make your own way to their beds. his voice sounds deeper than it used to, deeper still than you think possible for a child his age and size. then again, you are never sure if the notches on his door frame are an accurate way to measure whatever it is that makes you feel like your eldest has grown beyond your reach. you watch him open doors, soothe your children, spend his nights in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea with a weariness not even the war should bring to him, not after all the effort you put into keeping him safe.

your children mostly talk to each other now, in a whispered privacy you cannot hope to be a part of. their arms no longer fit around your waist. your daughters are wilder—even your older one, as she carries herself like royalty, has grown teeth too sharp for polite society— and they no longer lean into your hands. your sons are broad-shouldered even before their shirts start being too small again, filling up space you never thought was up for taking. your eldest doesn’t sleep, your middle children take notes when politicians speak on the wireless and shake their heads as though they know better, and your youngest sings for hours in your garden.

who are your children now, helen pevensie, and who pried their childhood out of your shaking hands?

[pssyscker4life]

"What's so weird about liking her?"

Syp: An obsessive guy who never really knew how a woman could be interested in a crazy guy like him. But he's so hot tho, you couldn't resist.

Warning! :satoru x f! reader! kind of a size kink? MDNI GUYS MDNI, sexual interactions, +18, a bit of dirty talk teheee :3

Weird af! Gojo Satoru who was unaware of his obsession with you until Suguru asked him.

It all started out normal; simple glances at your face, your curves, your ass. Everything seemed normal, until slowly the obsession grew bigger.

"Bro, i told you i just find her cute!" Satoru protested as Suguru just said "Sure, sure..." while rolling his eyes.

He forgot about that obsessive subject for a long time, because he believed it was a lie. You're just attractive, that's all. "She's just a girl," the white-haired boy repeated to himself every day he lost himself looking at each of your gestures.

And that level of love led him to this; In his room fucking his fist looking at your Instagram photos. Your bikini photos, with elegant dresses and a smile so charming that he swore that just by looking into your eyes he would be able to release all his precum.

Weird af! Gojo Satoru who never thought about doing it, but he did witchcraft on you so that you would fall in love with him once and for all.

It was all because of a conversation with Shoko, she was talking about how she used that method to make a boy fall in love with her. And oh, of course Satoru wouldn't let that information slide when he got such a pretty girl to bewitch.

And now he's in his kitchen, writing your name on a piece of paper with a red pen and following Shoko's orders. He felt like the luckiest boy in the world; well, now you would be interested in him as much as he's interested in you.

Weird af! Gojo Satoru who felt like his dick was going to explode from that text message you sent him.

It wasn't anything important, just you asking him if he wanted to go out to get something to eat. But, need I repeat? Satoru is obsessed with you, and every single move you made or every single thing you said to him made him hotter than the fucking sun itself.

Weird af! Gojo Satoru who felt an enormous and unbearable need to simply bend you over anywhere and take you. They were just perverted thoughts but god he was so tempted.

He was with several girls, but he knew that you were going to be much more affectionate, much sweeter and much more submissive than any other girl.

Every thought drives Satoru crazy. He imagines you, trembling and eyes rolled behind the back of your head as he fucks you dumb. He's sure your pussy would be far more angelic than his calloused fist that he must stroke himself with while thinking of you.

Weird af! Gojo Satoru who got so fucking excited when you two started dating. You had a crush on him before, but you didn't know if that feeling was mutual, so you kept it a secret.

But, the dates kept going on and on until it happened; that kiss you both wanted so much came true. It wasn't like the rom-coms on TV, but it was so magical. Your lips were so soft and pink, he swore that your lips were like touching the clouds.

He felt so cheesy at the time, but it was all worth it. Because it was you, and he was only interested in you, no one else.

And he knew that this wasn't temporary, he never felt this way. Your eyes were like seeing the most beautiful star, your touch so soft that he felt like it was all just a dream.

Weird af! Gojo Satoru who felt like he was in heaven as your fingertips tangled tightly his hair as you tried to fit Satoru's length inside your wet heat.

"Nggh, 'Toru— 's too big" you complained between overstimulated sobs, which made Satoru chuckle meanly.

"C'mon, baby, i know you can take it all." The white-haired man said as he thrust mercilessly, making his head roll back in pleasure.

He felt like if he came early, he'd have to pull out of your addictive pussy. But you've already cum twice with his fingers and now you're chasing your third orgasm with a thick, rock-hard cock.

"'m cumming, 'toru! mmhh–" Erotic sounds escaped your lips as you felt a knot that needed to be released.

"Yeah? You're gonna cream all this cock, huh?" Satoru was smirking so hard that it didn't seem like he was trying not to cum the whole time. The heat was burning in your insides, and you felt your orgasm hit you like a fucking truck, so hard that you felt like that had been the best orgasm of your life.

Satoru gave a couple of hard thrusts, leaving all his seed inside you, and watching as it slowly overflowed inside you after having completely filled you with his hot cum.

Weird af! Gojo Satoru who now knows that Shoko's witchcraft trick worked, because now he has you asleep in his arms after fucking you senseless! :3

HEYYY!!! this is my first time posting on Tumblr 😺😺 Would love ya if you like and repost, that would be so sweet 😌😌

English is not my first language, so correct me if smth is wrong!

[precupid]

─── b2b

WC ─── eight hundred twenty-seven

GENRE ─── fluff, just fluff, idk kinda angsty though, established relationship

SYNOPSIS ─── sleeping with you is hard, but sleeping without you is even harder for jake.

MARI NOTES ─── not proofread bc i literally just finished writing this </3 very very self indulgent, i literally could not stop thinking of sleepy and cuddly jake and that one quote “not when it’s you” m(_ _)m please enjoy and leave feedback if you’d like <3

Jake is not used to noisy sleepers. He is not used to people who are constantly moving in their sleep. And he sure as hell isn’t used to being punched in the face during slumber.

However, that doesn’t mean he won’t sleep with you. In fact, because you’re you, Jake willingly allows you to torture him in your sleep. That’s how much he adores you. He’ll take every punch, every slap, and every kick just to hold you close when you’re away in dreamland.

Yes, he does lose a lot of sleep. Yes, he does have large dark circles. And yes, he falls asleep during his classes. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop sleeping with you.

“Jake. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

The statement is enough to send Jake’s heart and mind into a frenzy. Are you mad at him? Did he do something wrong? How does he not know?

His puppy dog eyes are enough to give away that something is amiss and you pout at him, “I’m not mad. Just so you know.”

His voice is wobbly when he replies, “Then why? Do you hate me?”

Well. He wasn’t supposed to say that, but it comes out anyways.

You laugh, patting his cheek, “No, of course not! I just think you deserve a good night’s rest. I know how hard it is to sleep within my general vicinity, so I want you to have the bed tonight.”

Jake’s eyes go big and he grabs the hand that rests on his cheek, his thumb softly rubbing against your skin. “Thank you, my love. You’re so sweet.”

Truth be told, Jake is not looking forward to sleeping alone. Despite how difficult it is to sleep with you, he’s gotten used to the disarray that comes with sharing a bed every night. He’s used to falling off the bed, being whacked in the face, and your random murmurs every so often. He doesn’t know how he’ll cope without your warmth radiating from your side of the bed.

The night goes on, and suddenly, the night sky is draped with clouds and stars, the moon hung low in the sky. Jake pouts at you from his spot on the bed, pillow in his arms, as he watches you do your skincare routine, “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep with me? Like a thousand percent sure?”

A chuckle leaves your lips, “Yes. You should sleep for more than four hours. You deserve to.”

His heart hurts at that statement. He wants to sleep so badly, but not without you. Eight hours of sleep without you is nothing compared to the four hours he gets with you.

Jake follows you to the couch, which has been pulled out into a bed, and stands in front of it. His arms are spread out like a starfish, preventing you from going any closer. “Please. I’m desperate. I want to sleep with you.”

“Jake, but you should have a night to yourself where you can sleep soundly,” the way you sound almost sad makes Jake rethink his begging. “Just one night, Jake. Then I’m all yours.”

His arms drop to his sides and he holds out a pinky, “Promise?”

“Promise,” you smile, intertwining your little fingers.

Two hours after you’ve gone to bed, Jake lays limply and alone in the dark. His eyes are glued to the ceiling, his ears glued to the snoring coming from outside the bedroom. He hasn’t slept a wink at all and all he can think about is how much he misses you and your sleeping form.

Huffing, he pushes himself off the bed, and walks to the living room. You sound like a hacksaw, sprawled out along the couch. The comforter is on the floor and your pillows have been tossed to the side.

Jake picks up a pillow, dusting it off quickly, and places it under your head. He takes the other pillow and places it next to yours. Slipping into the spot beside you, he sighs as your warmth envelopes him and the back of your hand whacks him softly on the cheek.

Feeling the impact, you open one eye and whisper, “Jake? What are you doing here? I thought you were sleeping already?”

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” he mumbles. You shift so Jake can position you in his arms.

“I thought my sleeping bothered you, so I wanted you to sleep alone for once. Y’know, sleep peacefully,” you admit. The grogginess in your voice makes Jake’s heart flutter, but your confession makes him feel like he’s sinking.

“You could never bother me. I love you,” Jake replies. He digs his nose in your neck and leaves a chaste kiss. “Nothing about you could bother me. I adore everything about you.”

Sniffling, you turn in Jake’s hold so you can look into his eyes. “I love you,” you say, trying to kiss Jake’s lips. Your brows furrow as he dodges your kiss. “What?”

“Sorry, babe,” Jake laughs breathlessly. “You got sleepy breath.”

“Whatever,” you pout.

Jake runs a hand through your hair and kisses your forehead, “Let’s just go back to bed.”

© PRECUPID. do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works anywhere.

[bttrflybb]

𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄 ≡ neji hyūga (18+)

contains: fem reader˒ neji x reader˒ crvix stim˒ breeding˒ praise˒ prgnancy ment.

summary: you find out what makes the genius of the hyūga clan tick. your sex life is good, but he’s always been a bit uninvolved in the decisions around it.

w/c: 1.5k.

a/n: this was supposed to be multi headcanon post including others about you finding out their biggest kinks, but i’d figure i’d just get it out now since it’ll take a bit for the rest. ero-sensei and the sixth are already gonna be included but if you have anyone else you’d like to see, let me know ! barely proofread, if you’re stumbling along this post in its infancy before i get back home and make some more edits… im sorry . ;;

neji, at his core, is a gentle man. he’s slow, intent on doing his best for you, making you feel the best for him. during the act he’s the one taking the lead, but outside of it you’re the one telling him just how to do so. truth is, he had always been a bit unsure of his sexual preferences. it’s no surprise that such a straight-edged n’ pent up shinobi like him has less developed kinks and fetishes than his pervy lover. 

that is, until the both of you let something slip.

it was in the middle of a hazy entanglement, you were flush against the futon and neji was hungry. by the way he spread your legs open, rounding one palm to the underside of your right thigh and lifting it up and out and hooking the other underneath your left knee to stretch it outwards against the floor, this man was starved. he swallowed your moans the second they came, sloppily tonguing you down and devouring the mix of saliva you two created. so fucking desperate. the fat tip of neji’s cock draagged along your wet slit forcing a whine out of you from just the sound. your head clouded with confusion and lust- it felt so fucking good but it contrasted starkly aside the usual sensual pace and tone neji tends to set. he rut against the outside of you, rocking back n’ forth while your lips enveloped him and covered his cock in your juices. he looked so good above you, his hair a mess and his brows furrowed in horny concentration. your thoughts still run with curiosity, did he drink at all? no, he doesn’t taste like anything. neji isn’t the kind of person to be open about his sex so he definitely didn’t ask anybody-

“talk to me, lovely.” he rumbled, the undertones of desperation seeping through such a caring, gentle voice. he even sounded different. neji tapped his forehead against yours, resting against it for a moment while he waited for you to come back to him. “m’ okay, neji.” you nodded, locking your gaze with his. “jus’ so… feisty.” you flush. neji separates his forehead from yours and you swear you catch a sly smile beneath the umber veil that falls across his face as he shifts and dips his head down to the crook of your neck. instinctively you tip your head up to make room for the licks and nips that make their way up to your ear.

“yeah? you like it?” his breathy words laced with lust choked you like poison. a pitiful moan crawled its way out of your throat and all you could do was nod and breathe out an ‘uh-huh’ while he ravaged the side of your neck. lavender eyes fix onto every movement of your face, peering at you from below through dark strands of hair like an animal behind bars. oh so fucking slowly neji fucks his tip in n' out of your entrance, fixated on the way your eyebrows knit together and mouth twitches as he sinks his cock deeper with every other thrust. each word of praise goes straight to your cunt while it eagerly swallows more n’ more of his length. you sound like a slut in more ways than one and it’s fueling neji like he’s a goddamn incubus.

your knees are up by your head and neji's pace is grueling. throughout all of this neji's words of praise never stop flowing- like sweet thick honey. you're drowning. each time he buries his pretty slender cock all the way in he draws it out slow, then fast, then all the way back in again- and again- "neh..jiii- nnghh- hahh-" you mewl, your words and noises staggering each time his tip meets with your cervix. between the abuse of your cunt and that sweet, demeaning voice, it’s all too much. he speaks down to you like you're stupid- and you are. he knows you are. "yeaah, sweetheart? what is it, angel?" he knows what it is, he knows what he's doing. "mm' close n'ji... m' reaaal close-" you whine, grasping at his wrists planted on either side of your head. he's so sweet, delicately taking hold of both of your hands and interlocking his fingers between yours. "y-yeah angel?" he stammers, he's close too and you squeeze his palms in acknowledgment. "hahh, you want it sweet thing? what you said earlier- about a baby- gghhah-" his moans descend into an airy, rough laugh and you swear you can feel his dick throb when he says it. “you want my seed, pretty girl?”

fuck. it all clicks now. when he had come home and you awoke to the sound of shoji doors sliding open and closed. dinner was ready and warm, the garden was tended to, the house was clean and you had showered and slipped into a nap on the couch in just your night robe . neji kissed the sleep from your eyes and you joked about how peaceful it was; the only thing that could disrupt it would be one or two little ones running around. that's what it fucking was.

"neji-" you choke out and wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him into you. that brazen expression falters more and more and he's boring holes through his own eyelids- it feels like he's in a fucking sauna. his sly little smile slips away each thrust and he gets sloppier and sloppier each time he dives inside. "m' close angel- hahhh do you want me t-ngh," you can feel him throb inside you, he's actively holding himself back. "please neji, hah- fuck- get me fucking pregnant neji-" and with three pumps and the help your vulgar rambling he's driving his own cum deep inside. out halfway and back in, hard. the prettiest fucking mix of groans and whines spill out his mouth with each rope he shoots inside you. he feels so hot, his head feels so heavy he just lets it drop- n’ if he wasn't holding himself up with locked elbows and you werent keeping squeezing his hands so tight your knuckles were turning white, he might've just toppled over. you look so fucking good underneath him this way, twitching n’ arching while taking everything he gives you- and he’s sure to let you know that. “look so good, pretty girl, taking it all- fuck,” you cry, his words, his pelvis to clit thrusts, his voice, his warmth flooding you sends you clumsily toppling over the edge. the sound he makes when he starts to feel you throb around him is flithy, and the words of praise that follow after are just as gross. “yeah take it all pretty thing, take what you want. milk my cock f’r me…”

the highs of both your orgasms slowly wear off together and the exhaustion hits. your heart pangs with pity when neji’s elbows shakily hit the futon with a poof and you look up at him trembling n’ panting above you. you’ve never seen him so unkempt. honestly, a small wave of pride washes over you and you can’t help but breathe out a small giggle while you quiver and take spaced, shaky breaths. your foreheads meet once again and he offers you a weak smile. “what are you laughing at?” his voice is hoarse and laced in faux venom. his eyebrows knit together for a moment and his eye contact falters- a simultaneous whine comes from the two of you as he drags his half hard cock out and the results of tonight make themselves known. neji sits back on his knees and just watches it spill out onto the robe beneath you, barring it from leaking out onto the futon. there was so much. you can almost see stars form in the blank space of his eyes while he watches you and you just want to hide. none of that here though. before you can even start neji’s got his hands back on you palming at the inside of your open flat right thigh and gripping the top of your left knee, preventing you from closing your legs and rolling to the side. “nejiii… you’re staring too hard.” you whine. “m’barrassing.” you’re hiding behind your hands at this point. neji shakes his head and cuffs your wrists with one hand and brings them to lay on your tummy. his right snakes around your left knee and he scooches in so he can kiss the top of it and rest his head on it, letting his hand travel down and rub your thigh.

“did you mean it?” he asks, a bit hushed.

“mean what?” obviously you have a grasp on what he’s inquiring about.

“what you said- about… um… getting you pregnant.” neji murmured, censoring the word tailing the end of the sentence between his lips and your knee, kissing it again.

“if i didn’t i wouldn’t have said anything- the first or second time.” you pull yourself up with his hand (well, more like he pulls you up single-handedly after a couple taps and tugs to show him you wanted up) and are eye level with him again. soft kisses meet his left cheek and cool and clammy skin flushes at the affection.

“is that fine?” “mhm.” “you liked it?” “a lot.”

[httpsdana]

30 & 5 from fluff with pedri?

Quiet Hours~Pedri González

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: this was a bit rushed sorry. A hector fic next <3

5-“stop laughing! I'm trying to tell you that I love you"

30-“What are you doing up?” “my personal heater went away”

It was well past midnight when y/n shifted in her sleep at the sudden coldness. Her hand reached out instinctively to the other side of the bed, only for her to be met with the empty warm bed.

She sat up confused, rubbing her eyes to try and clear the haze of sleep still clouding her mind.

She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders, and shivered as her feet met the cold tiles of the floor.

She walked herself out of the room, and to the room that was only lit up in the house.

She saw Pedri in the kitchen, a glass of water in his hands but his posture seemed off. His shoulders seemed tense, not as relaxed as always. His back was to her, but when he heard her come in he quickly turned around.

“amor?” he said softly, his eyes softening at her sleepy sight. “What are you doing up?”

“my personal heater went away” she whined, making his face melt into a smile as she tightened the blanket around her shoulders.

“lo siento princesa,” he murmured, reaching forward to cup her face in his warm hands. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again.

“Why did you leave?” she asked him

He shrugged, his finger running over her cheekbone lightly.

“I couldn't sleep,” he said, although she wasn't convinced. He seemed to be carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

“something's on your mind. spill,” she urged, making him sigh.

" it's just…I've been thinking about something for so long,” he started.

“about what?” she asked curiously.

" I don't know how to tell you” he breathed out.

“Are you trying to tell me that you've been stealing my snacks?” she couldn't help but tease him slightly before he shook his head.

“No, it's more serious. I-” she interrupted him again before he could finish.

“did you crash my car again?” she teased, her smile widening as she watched the blush rise up his neck. She couldn't help but laugh softly at his flustered state.

“stop laughing! I'm trying to tell you that I love you" he said, his voice rising slightly as he blurted out what's been weighing on him for a while.

The room went silent as her eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly at his confession. She hadn't expected him to say those words, not in this situation and in the middle of the night.

Pedri noticed her face and his face dropped immediately.

“dios mío” he sighed, his hand running over his face. “I knew this was a bad idea. lo siento”

As he tried to walk away, she was quick to pull his hand back.

“Pedri. Stop” she smiled slightly, as he avoided her eyes and focused on the floor.

“I love you too,” she murmured, making him look up at her quickly.

“you do?” he asked, his smile appearing on his face once again.

“Yes, stupid. I'd be the dumbest person on earth if I didn't” she joked, making him chuckle.

She grabbed the strings of his hoodie, before pulling him down so that his lips met hers in a reassuring kiss. He melted into the kiss as his hand reached up to cup her face again. When they pulled away they were both slightly breathless. She smiled at him before leaning her head against his chest.

“carry me to bed? I'm cold” she looked at him with a pout. He leaned down to kiss her pout away, before wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her effortlessly off the ground, her legs wrapping around his waist.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes already heaving with sleep.

“te amo mi vida” she murmured, before her eyes fully shut.

“te amo más preciosa” he mumbled back, unable to stop the wide smile from spreading on his face.

He placed her gently in bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around her then laying next to her. He pressed one final kiss on her forehead, before pulling her so she could lay on him.

And having her in his arms was the way he could sleep peacefully at night, especially after hearing her say those words back to him.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[daenysx]

I seriously love the vibes of all your sleepovers. Can I ask for modern!au where James Potter babies and comforts reader when she’s having a hard time? If not totally understand <3

James has big hands. Big, not so soft because the air is dry and he neglects applying hand cream, but always gentle. He's really good at putting on the right amount of pressure as he rubs wide circles on your back. You kind of want to melt here and never deal with anything else.

It's a bad day. More like a bad week. You can find reasons or maybe excuses if you try hard enough, but you don't want to. You feel beyond overwhelmed, so emotional but also so empty. Something disturbs your stomach, your legs get numb if you don't stretch them enough. Your body doesn't feel like it's yours and- that's too annoying to be true.

James is here. He always is. His fingers press on the tight spots on your back and you try to relax. It works, mostly. It works better when he kisses you.

"Can I get a kiss?" you ask him with a low voice. You know he tries to be cautious, not overbearing, just here for you. You don't mind asking for things.

"Of course," he says, cupping your cheek to get you closer. "You can have as many kisses as you want."

This is a good promise. You feel better, focusing on James' lips and controlling your breathing. His thumb gently circles on the skin of your neck, you sigh softly. He takes his time, cuddling up and holding you in his lap. A hand goes on your thigh to stroke the tight muscle.

"I feel better," you tell him. He never asks verbally, but you know he likes it when you let him know. Your fingers linger on his cheeks, he smiles broadly, the kind of sunshiny one you love seeing so much.

"Happy to hear that, angel girl," he kisses your neck sweetly. "Are you hungry? Maybe we can order something, Sirius was talking about a new place."

You shake your head. "Can we decide later?" Suddenly making the simplest decisions is hard.

"Sure," he agrees. "You know, actually I changed the coffee brand we always get. Do you wanna try it?"

"Hmm," it sounds good, you just don't think you can leave the bed.

"I can just make it really quick."

"I'm gonna come with you to kitchen," you tell him. "Just- 5 minutes later."

He laughs, and it's bright. He's so strong as he pulls you to his chest, hugging you so tight. "My sweetheart, did I tell you how much I love you today? You smell so good, I wish we could just stay like this forever."

"I love you." you say with your softest voice.

"I love you, I love you so much," he kisses his way on your neck, holding you in his lap so tight. "My sweetest angel, I love you so much."

You laugh, smiling so big as he kisses you again and again. He keeps holding you until you're ready to go to kitchen, you're on clouds, being in love with him feels so safe- you like being in his arms. You like being kissed so sweetly. You like how you can stop thinking, he's here and he thinks of everything when you can't.

starry girl sleepover ☆

[blondemrk]

°˖ medical love ១ requested!

p marklee× fem!reader w.c 4.6k t.w death,blood,angst.

the hospital had settled into a strange rhythm, as it always did after midnight. the controlled chaos of the day had dwindled, leaving behind the quiet hum of machines and the occasional shuffle of feet echoing through the halls. it was the kind of silence that forced you to confront the weight of the day, and tonight, the weight seemed unbearable.

you stepped out of the operating room, tugging your gloves off with a snap. the faint scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang of blood clung to the air, but you hardly noticed anymore—it was just part of the job. you were tired, the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that blurred the edges of everything. still, something caught your eye as you turned toward the scrub room.

mark lee was sitting on the floor outside or 3, his back pressed against the pale green wall, his knees drawn up. his head hung low, and his hands were tangled in his dark hair. the sight stopped you in your tracks. mark wasn’t the type to sit down, let alone sit down like this.

you took a step closer, your sneakers squeaking softly against the tile. “mark?”

he didn’t respond, didn’t even lift his head. his shoulders rose and fell in shallow breaths, the only indication that he’d even heard you.

you tried again, softer this time. “mark, are you okay?”

he let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a bitter laugh. when he finally looked up, the expression on his face made your chest tighten. his eyes, usually bright and full of determination, were rimmed red and clouded with something you could only describe as defeat.

“she didn’t make it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

you lowered yourself to the floor beside him, ignoring the cold tile against your scrubs. “who?”

mark stared straight ahead, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his voice steady. “ten years old. she was in a car accident on the way back from her piano recital. her mom was driving. the car flipped, and she…” he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. “by the time they brought her in, it was bad. massive internal bleeding. her heart stopped on the table twice. we got her back the first time, but the second…” his voice broke, and he scrubbed his hands over his face, leaving smudges of dried blood on his skin.

you felt your own throat tighten. you’d seen countless patients in critical condition, but children were different. they always were. the fragility of life seemed sharper, crueler, when it was someone so young.

“mark,” you said gently, your voice cutting through the heavy air. “you did everything you could.”

he let out a humorless laugh, his hands dropping into his lap. “that’s what they always say, isn’t it? ‘you did everything you could.’ as if that makes it hurt less. as if it makes it okay to walk out of that room and tell her parents that their daughter’s gone.”

you didn’t respond right away. instead, you studied him, taking in the way his hands trembled against his knees, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of the night.

“you know that isn’t true,” you said finally. “it’s not just something we say. it’s the truth. you did everything humanly possible to save her.”

his head turned toward you, and the look in his eyes made your heart ache. “then why does it feel like i failed her? like i failed everyone?”

“because you care,” you said simply. “and because you’re human.” mark shook his head, his lips pressing into a tight line. “what’s the point of these hands if they can’t save someone like her?” he held them up, his fingers trembling slightly.

without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his to steady them. “these hands have saved more lives than i can count,” you said firmly. “and they will save more. but you’re not a god, mark. none of us are. sometimes, no matter how good we are, it’s not enough. that doesn’t mean you failed.”

the silence that followed was thick, the kind that stretched and pressed against your chest. mark’s gaze dropped to your hands, still clasped together. his fingers twitched slightly, but he didn’t pull away.

“you’ve lost patients before,” he said after a long moment.

“i have,” you admitted. “and it never gets easier. but you learn to carry it. you carry them. and you keep going because the next patient needs you just as much.” he nodded slowly, as if trying to let the words sink in. his grip on your hand tightened, just for a moment, before he let out a shaky breath.

“i don’t know how you always know what to say,” he said, his voice soft. you smiled faintly. “i don’t. but i know what it feels like to sit here and think the weight of the world is your fault. and i know what it feels like when someone reminds you it’s not.”

mark’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile—a ghost of his usual confidence. “thanks,” he said, the word simple but heavy with meaning.

you squeezed his hand one last time before letting go. “anytime.” for a while, neither of you moved. you just sat there, side by side, letting the silence do what words couldn’t. and in that quiet moment, the crushing weight of the night felt a little easier to bear.

hospitals thrived on chaos, and over the next few weeks, the er seemed to exist in a state of perpetual motion. ambulances pulled up one after another, dumping cases that ranged from minor injuries to full-blown emergencies. the surgeons were stretched thin, constantly scrubbing in and out of surgeries, barely getting time to breathe.

you and mark crossed paths more often than not, your shifts overlapping in what felt like a cruel joke played by fate. but instead of feeling burdensome, there was a strange comfort in his presence.

it started with small moments—a quick exchange of updates during rounds, a passing joke in the break room, or a knowing glance across a crowded or. you found yourself seeking him out, your eyes scanning for his familiar figure among the flurry of activity. and more often than not, he was there, matching your pace like a partner you never asked for but somehow needed.

one night, after finishing a particularly grueling appendectomy, you stumbled into the break room, desperate for caffeine. the coffee pot was empty, of course. you groaned, leaning heavily against the counter, debating whether the effort of making a new pot was worth it.

“rough night?”

you turned to see mark leaning against the doorway, a tired but amused smile tugging at his lips. he held out a fresh cup of coffee, steam curling from the rim. you raised an eyebrow. “did you just read my mind?”

he shrugged, stepping closer. “you looked like you needed it more than me.” you took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped through your hands. “i’d thank you, but i’m too tired to be polite.”

mark chuckled, his laughter soft but genuine. “i’ll take it as a compliment.” he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat across from you, leaning back in his chair. “how many hours are you running on?”

“don’t ask,” you said, grimacing. “it’s depressing.”

he nodded knowingly. “you’re telling me. i almost asked one of the med students to remind me what year it is.”

the image made you laugh, and the sound surprised you. it felt foreign, almost out of place in the sterile confines of the hospital. but it also felt good.

moments like these became more frequent. you started to notice the little things about him—how he ran a hand through his hair when he was thinking, how he always had a spare pen tucked into his pocket, how his voice softened when he spoke to patients’ families. he was sharp and quick-witted, but there was a tenderness to him that you hadn’t expected.

the turning point came on a rare quiet night. the er had settled into an unusual calm, giving the staff a chance to catch their breath. you and mark found yourselves alone in the surgical lounge, reviewing charts.

“i think i forgot what silence feels like,” you said, breaking the stillness. mark looked up from his tablet, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “don’t jinx it. the second you say that, the pagers will go off.”

you laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “fair point.” for a moment, there was nothing but the faint hum of the vending machine. then mark spoke again, his tone more serious this time.

“do you ever wonder why we do this?”

you frowned, tilting your head. “what do you mean?”

“this job,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the charts in front of him. “the hours, the stress, the… everything. we lose so much of ourselves to this place. why do we keep coming back?”

you considered his question carefully. “because the good moments outweigh the bad,” you said finally. “even if they’re rare. that feeling when you save someone, when you give them a second chance—that’s worth everything.”

mark’s gaze lingered on you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “yeah,” he said quietly. “i guess it is.”

the weight of his stare made your pulse quicken, but before you could say anything, the familiar trill of a pager shattered the moment.

“trauma incoming,” he said, glancing at his.

you nodded, already on your feet. “guess the silence is over.”

“guess so.”

as the two of you rushed out of the lounge, side by side, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted.

the days blended together in a blur of emergency calls, surgeries, and brief moments of quiet that were often too short to catch your breath. but somehow, despite the chaos, you found yourself gravitating toward mark more and more. his presence was like a steady anchor amidst the storms of your daily life—comforting, but also quietly intense in a way you couldn’t ignore.

there were moments when you’d catch him looking at you with an unreadable expression, his eyes lingering just a little too long before he’d look away. it was always when the two of you were alone, usually after a particularly difficult surgery. the tension was subtle but palpable, and you weren’t sure if you were imagining it or if he was feeling it too.

one evening, after a particularly grueling trauma case, you found yourself sitting beside him on the rooftop. the night air was cool against your skin, and the sounds of the city below seemed distant, almost peaceful compared to the whirlwind of the hospital. you’d both escaped for a brief reprieve, needing a break from the constant demands of your jobs.

mark leaned back against the low stone wall, staring up at the stars. you mirrored his position, your arms folded across your chest for warmth.

“do you ever think about what we do?” he asked, his voice quiet but thoughtful. you glanced at him, frowning slightly. “what do you mean?”

he took a deep breath before answering, his gaze still fixed on the sky. “i mean, we save lives every day. we do everything in our power to help people. but sometimes… it feels like it’s never enough, you know?”

you knew exactly what he meant. it wasn’t just the long hours or the physical toll; it was the emotional weight that lingered, the feeling that despite all your best efforts, you couldn’t save everyone. sometimes you couldn’t even save yourself.

“i get it,” you said softly, your voice tinged with the same exhaustion. “it’s why we keep pushing. but there’s only so much we can do before it starts to wear you down.” mark was quiet for a moment, and when he finally spoke again, his tone was more somber. “i don’t think i’m cut out for this anymore.”

the words hit you like a punch in the gut. you turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat. “what do you mean? you’re one of the best surgeons i know.”

he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “i used to think i was doing this for the right reasons, but lately, it feels like i’m just going through the motions. like i’m losing touch with the reason i started this in the first place.”

you studied him closely, seeing the exhaustion in the lines of his face, the weight in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before. there was more to it than just the job. you could tell.

“mark…” you hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. the space between you felt different tonight—thicker, heavier, as if the walls that usually kept you both at a safe distance were beginning to crack.

he turned his gaze to you, his expression guarded, but his eyes were vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache. “i don’t know what i’m doing anymore. i don’t know if i can keep pretending like i’ve got it all together when i don’t.”

you felt a rush of empathy, the weight of his words settling in your chest. you could relate more than he realized.

“you don’t have to pretend with me, mark,” you said quietly, your voice breaking the tension between you. “you don’t have to do it alone.”

there was a long pause, as if he was weighing your words. then, finally, he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know what to do anymore. i’m so damn tired of pretending.”

you reached out, resting a hand on his arm, offering a silent comfort that you weren’t sure would be enough. but it was the only thing you could offer. and in that moment, as the night stretched on around you, you felt the distance between you close just a little bit more.

the days that followed were a blur of surgeries and patient rounds, but there was something different in the air. an unspoken understanding lingered between you and mark. you both carried the weight of the hospital together, but now, there was something else—a connection that neither of you had acknowledged, but both felt.

you noticed mark’s eyes lingering on you more often, his smile softening when you spoke. and when you looked at him, you saw something different too. something that made your heart race just a little faster and your thoughts scatter.

it was after a particularly long shift that it finally happened. you were both in the break room, grabbing a quick snack before heading out for rounds. your conversation was light, filled with small talk and the kind of easy banter that had come to define your moments together.

but as you finished your meal and prepared to leave, mark stopped you. “hey,” he said, his voice low, but with a seriousness that caught you off guard. you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “yeah?”

“i’ve been thinking about what you said the other night,” he began, taking a deep breath. “about not having to pretend.”

you felt your heart skip a beat. “and?”

“and i think… maybe it’s time i stopped pretending.” his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of hope, maybe. but then it was gone, replaced by his usual stoic expression.

you stepped closer, your pulse quickening. “what do you mean?”

mark hesitated, his fingers running nervously through his hair. “i mean, i’m tired of hiding behind this wall. i’m tired of pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not. maybe i need someone who understands what it’s like to be in this—someone who doesn’t just see the surgeon, but the person underneath it all.”

your breath caught in your throat as the words hung between you. his eyes were searching yours, as if waiting for you to say something, anything. and in that moment, you realized how much you had come to care about him—not just as a colleague, but as someone who shared the same struggles, the same heartache, and the same need for connection.

“i’m here,” you said quietly, stepping even closer. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

and as mark closed the distance between you, his hand gently resting on your arm, you knew that whatever came next—whatever challenges you faced in the hospital, whatever insecurities and fears you both carried—you would face them together.

the weeks after that night on the rooftop passed in a blur of shifting dynamics. the connection between you and mark was no longer subtle; it was there, undeniable, even if it was still tentative. neither of you had put a label on it, but the moments you shared were enough to make your heart race in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

there were times when mark would linger after rounds, walking beside you down the hall, exchanging a quiet word or an inside joke that made the rest of the world fade away. he seemed to be more present now, his once-distant demeanor softer, as if the weight of his thoughts had lifted—at least a little. but with that shift came new challenges.

one late afternoon, the hospital was chaotic as usual. the sounds of the er echoed through the hallways—pagers going off, medical staff rushing to and fro, and the steady beep of monitors. you were in the middle of stabilizing a patient after a traumatic car accident when you heard your name being called.

“y/n!”

you glanced up to see mark hurrying toward you, his face tight with urgency. his eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you saw the familiar strain in his expression—the same one you’d seen the night he opened up to you about his doubts.

“what’s going on?” you asked, moving toward him instinctively.

he didn’t answer right away, his lips pressed together in a thin line. then, without warning, he grabbed your arm, guiding you into a quieter part of the hospital. “mark, what’s happening?”

he stopped just inside an empty conference room, his back to you as he ran a hand through his hair. when he turned around, there was a new kind of tension in his gaze. “i need you to help on a procedure with me. it’s urgent,” he said, his voice unusually clipped.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s the rush?”

“just trust me.” his eyes softened slightly, but the concern in them was clear. “it’s complicated. i need your expertise.”

something in his tone made your stomach tighten. you didn’t need any further explanation. you nodded and followed him back to the or without a word.

the procedure was grueling. the patient’s internal injuries were extensive, and the time spent trying to stabilize them felt like it stretched on forever. both of you worked in sync, each movement seamless as you followed the rhythm of the operation. but as the hours dragged on, the stress began to show.

you noticed how mark’s brow furrowed with concentration, his hands steady but his eyes flickering with doubt as the situation became more complicated. he’d glance at you more often now, his expression a mix of trust and desperation.

the room grew heavy with the weight of what was happening. time seemed to freeze, your every move calculated and precise, as though you were both operating on autopilot.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, you and mark exchanged a brief glance. he gave you a small nod, his lips pressed in a thin line. it wasn’t much, but it was a signal—a recognition of your shared strength in the face of crisis.

after what felt like an eternity, the patient stabilized, and the immediate threat was over. the two of you stepped back, wiping sweat from your brows and exchanging a tired look.

“good work,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse from the tension of the past few hours.

mark didn’t respond right away. instead, he wiped his hands and took a step closer to you, his expression unreadable.

“thank you,” he said, his voice low. “i don’t know what i would’ve done without you in there.”

you met his gaze, and for a moment, everything else in the room seemed to disappear. there was something in his eyes—a mix of gratitude, admiration, and something deeper that you couldn’t quite name. before you could say anything else, the moment was broken by the sound of the door opening. a nurse walked in to update you both on the patient’s condition. you both straightened up, falling into professional mode once again, but the connection between you lingered in the air, unspoken yet heavy.

it was a few days later when things came to a head. the hospital had quieted down, the frenzy of the past week finally dying down to the usual low hum. mark was finishing a round when you bumped into him in the hallway. he was looking down at his phone, but when he saw you, his eyes softened slightly.

“hey,” he said, tucking his phone away.

“hey.” you smiled, and for a moment, the weight of the hospital life seemed to melt away. it was just the two of you in this small moment of peace.

“i was thinking about what happened the other day,” mark began, his voice hesitant.

you frowned, a bit unsure of where this conversation was going. “what do you mean?”

“the procedure,” he clarified, his gaze meeting yours. “how you stayed calm. how you just… took charge. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you.”

“you would’ve figured it out,” you replied automatically. “you always do.”

mark shook his head, stepping a bit closer. “no, i don’t think i would have. you didn’t just help me in there, y/n. you… you made me believe that i wasn’t alone in this. you’re not just a colleague. you’re…”

he trailed off, his words hanging in the air between you. the tension in his expression deepened, his vulnerability laid bare in that moment.

and you, too, felt the shift—the silent understanding that had been growing between you both. something unspoken, yet undeniable. you took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “mark, we’ve been doing this for a long time. i think we’ve both been pretending that everything is fine when we both know it isn’t. we can’t keep ignoring this, whatever it is between us.”

mark was quiet for a moment. then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours in a simple, yet profound gesture.

“i don’t want to ignore it,” he said quietly. “not anymore.”

and in that instant, you knew. this wasn’t just a fleeting connection—it was the beginning of something more. something that would require both of you to be vulnerable, to face the challenges ahead, and to step forward together, no longer afraid of the space between you.

the days after the procedure were a whirlwind of patient rounds, late-night shifts, and brief moments stolen between surgeries. but through it all, the unspoken connection between you and mark remained, growing stronger with each passing day. it was no longer just a shared understanding of the chaos of the hospital. it was something more—a mutual recognition of the uncharted territory you both had entered, a place that blurred the lines between professional respect and something deeper.

one evening, after a particularly draining 24-hour shift, you found yourself standing by the elevator, waiting for the door to open. your mind was foggy, your body ached from the exhaustion of being on your feet for so long. when the elevator finally arrived, you stepped in and pressed the button for the parking garage, the silence inside the small space almost deafening.

but as the doors were about to close, a hand shot out, stopping them. mark stepped in, his expression weary but still holding that quiet intensity you’d come to recognize. “hey,” he said, his voice low, the exhaustion evident in his tone.

you gave him a tired smile. “hey. didn’t expect to see you this late.”

mark sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i could say the same about you.” he glanced at you, his eyes lingering just a second longer than usual. “how are you holding up?”

you gave a nonchalant shrug, though the truth was, you felt like you were running on fumes. “surviving, i guess.”

the elevator descended in silence, the hum of the machinery the only sound between you. then, just before the doors opened to the parking garage, mark spoke again. “y/n…” he started, his voice a little strained. “i need to tell you something.”

you turned to him, feeling the weight of his words before they even left his mouth. the elevator door opened, and you both stepped out into the dimly lit parking garage. “what's going on?” you asked, your curiosity piqued, but there was a quiet tension in your chest—something that told you this wasn’t just small talk.

mark stopped walking for a moment, his hand reaching out as if to steady himself. his gaze was intense, and for a moment, you saw that vulnerability that had been slowly building between you two—he was struggling with something, something he hadn’t yet shared. his usual calm composure was slipping, and you could feel the weight of it.

“i’ve been thinking about… us,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “about how things have been between us lately. and it’s…” he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “it’s confusing.”

you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. “confusing?”

mark nodded, his expression tight. “i don’t know what’s happening, but every time i’m with you… it feels like there’s something else, something more, that neither of us is saying. i don’t want to ignore it anymore. i can’t.”

the words hit you like a wave crashing over you, sudden and powerful. you stood frozen for a moment, trying to process the emotions that were bubbling up inside you. he felt it too. this unspoken tension between you, this pull that neither of you could deny.

“mark,” you began, your voice quieter than you intended. “i…” you hesitated, your own emotions catching in your throat. “i don’t know what to say. i’ve felt it too, but i didn’t want to—”

but before you could finish, mark closed the gap between you, his hand gently cupping your face. the touch was so tender, it made your breath catch in your throat.

“i don’t want to keep pretending that i’m fine with just being your colleague,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “i don’t think i can anymore.”

your heart pounded in your chest as you stared up at him, the distance between you almost nonexistent. his face was inches from yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. the space between you, once filled with the weight of unspoken words, was now filled with something undeniable.

“i don’t want to pretend either,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “but this… it’s not just something we can ignore. we can’t pretend like it’s just going to go away.”

mark nodded, his eyes searching yours, looking for some kind of confirmation. “i know,” he said softly. “but i think… i think we should stop pretending.”

before you could answer, mark closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. the world seemed to fall away in that moment, the only thing that mattered was the heat of his kiss and the quiet realization that everything had changed.

the kiss was slow, unsure at first, as if both of you were still processing the enormity of the moment. but as it deepened, the uncertainty melted away, replaced by a growing sense of belonging. mark’s hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if afraid you might slip away.

when you finally broke the kiss, your breath was shallow, your chest rising and falling rapidly. you looked up at him, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that you hadn’t before—something raw, something real.

“y/n,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m not sure where this will go. i don’t know what happens next. but i want to find out. with you.”

you took a deep breath, your mind racing with everything you were feeling. the uncertainty, the fear, the excitement—it was all there, tangled together. but as you looked at mark, standing so close to you, you knew that whatever came next, it was something you wanted to face with him by your side.

“i’m in,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. “i don’t know what this means, but i want to see where it goes, too.”

mark smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “then let’s figure it out together.”

and in that moment, you realized that, for all the uncertainty that lay ahead, there was one thing you were sure of: you weren’t alone anymore.

masterlist

hey guys!! this was a request! i hope u like it! @thevirginsuicidenotes

[golurkart]

Hi! Sorry to bother, but I just started looking through your art and I really love the colours and mixing lines; so I wanna ask, what brushes do you use and how do you get that blocky-stroke look?

That sounds a bit confusing- basically, I wanna know how you made the clouds and fire here look painted and blocky

Thank you :) Your art is beautiful!

ok this is a tough question, not because i have opinions about sharing brushes or anything... i just tend to cycle my brushes around and forget which ones i use for which. BUT as best as i can recall i mostly used this clip studio paint set for this (you can look it up by ID, 2094247):

the blockiness comes from liberal use of the lasso tool (mostly on the fire) and magic wand tool (for the clouds).

i distinctly remember having trouble grouping the light and dark values on the clouds so i let the magic wand tool decide which parts were gonna be the shadows by creating a selection for it, and i did the same for the light.

that's pretty much it! i still have a lot to learn about clouds, etc and having a reference handy is always useful. hope this helps!

[sothisart]

It has been a crazy month but I’ve managed to finish something I have been working on for a long time. This scene has been melting my heart for weeks now and I don’t think that’s gonna change. It’s such a beautiful chapter of a fic called But What a Way to Go by amazing @r33sespieces (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44784199/chapters/140581672), I specifically wanted to show this sweet moment:

“Hello,” Remus croaked and placed a soft kiss on Sirius's palm. “Thank you for feeding me.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’d do anything for you, love, you know that. This is the least I could do.”

He helped Remus shuffle up against the headboard and piled pillows behind him until his back rested against a feathery cloud. When Sirius set the tray in his lap, he gasped with delight. “You got me flowers!”

His eyes shone, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to kiss him. He laced their fingers together instead, not wanting to push, but Remus wrapped his fist in Sirius’s t-shirt and tugged him forward. He pressed their lips together and Sirius’s eyes fell closed, the world narrowing to only the points where he and Remus touched. Remus let him go with a soft sigh and a brush of fingertips over his cheek. “What did I do to deserve you? Padfoot, this is perfect.”

Sirius felt his cheeks flush in the face of his husband’s wide-eyed sincerity. It wouldn’t have been the first time Remus drew him in with a soft voice and feigned coyness, but this felt different somehow, like he was letting Sirius in on a great secret.”

It’s such a unique story, so many complex and fascinating characterizations and motifs, and Wolfstar is just exquisite there!

Be sure to read the tags! ;)

Thank you @r33sespieces, I’d have to write an essay of how much I love this story (and I kinda have in your comments ;))

[insomniadreamzz]

I love the color blue

Jinx x Fem!Reader modern AU

Reader being a tattoo artist, no smut just mentions of nudity

The sound of the tattoo pistol buzzing was the only thing that filled up your tattoo studio, you being focused on your work. You wanted to make it perfect, especially because the woman you tattooed wasn’t just a normal customer.

You and Jinx have known each other for a while, you could say you became friends but she didn’t know you had a crush on her. Jinx always talked about the blue clouds she wants to get tattooed and today you finally gave in and made her wish get true.

She looked at you working on her arm and every now and then she looked at your face, seeing you being highly focused. One of the things she loved about you being focused was definitely the way your tongue got a little bit out, thinking you look so cute like that.

„Are you okay? Or do you need a pause?“ You asked her, Jinx shaking her head in response. „No don’t worry I am fine you can continue.“ She responded, making you keep doing your work. You knew she wasn’t the one to feel a lot of pain. Jinx past made her numb, she had to go through a lot of shit but every time she was with you, she showed at least a bit of true emotions even though she hid them very well behind her quirky behavior which seemed manic to others. It wasn’t a secret for you, you knew about her mental problems but you never thought they are a real problem for your relationship.

You couldn’t help but blush when you reached for her exposed chest. She wanted the tattoos to go along her boob and then down her ribs until they reached her tummy on the side. Of course you didn’t say no to her wish even though you needed to collect yourself once you saw her upper body naked. You could ignore it while you worked on her arm but now you are directly facing her chest, even tattooing on it. Your blush wasn’t unnoticed by her, making Jinx smirk as she looked at you still focused but this time with a blush on your cheeks. „Enjoy what you see?“ Jinx teased you but you didn’t pay much attention to it. „Yea I think these clouds came out pretty well.“ You mentioned, of course knowing what she meant but you had no time for flirting now, not wanting to mess up.

Once you finished, you took a last look at your work on Jinx, smiling as you felt satisfied with the result. „Good, I am done, go look at it yourself and tell me how you like it.“ You told her and Jinx hopped off the chair and walk towards the huge mirror in your studio, smiling as she admired your work on her. „You did a very good job toots! Thanks for that. Now I have you on me forever.“ She said as she turned to look at you, a little spark in her eyes. „M-Me? How’s that? It’s my job and I gave you the tattoos you always wanted.“ You simply reply, looking at her, noticing the tension building up between the both of you in that tiny room of your studio.

„Yes that’s the point dummy. YOU made it.“ She chuckled before walking closer to you, wanting to hug you. The feeling of her exposed chest in you making you blush. You hesitated for a moment before wrapping your arms around her waist, looking back into her beautiful eyes. „So? How many more hints do you need to understand my feelings?“

Your eyes widen a little bit at her statement. It was true, you did avoid all of her hints and attempts to get closer to you just because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship or just misinterpret something but the way she kept staring into your eyes made you realise it more. „So? You’re not just being your usual playful self?“ You said with a smirk, wanting to hear it from her but instead of using her words, Jinx decided to close the gap between you both, pulling you into a kiss.

You felt butterflies in your stomach when you kissed, tilting your head a little bit to deepen the kiss as you got lost for a moment, only wanting to enjoy the moment. When you pulled back, you both blushed, staring at each other for a a few seconds, the silence being interrupted by Jinx’s giggle. „Heh…I love you toots.“ You smile brightly at her words, not being able to hold back and ignore what just happened between you two, pecking her lips once again. „I love you too.“ You admitted, feeling the weight of your shoulders fall and you felt much lighter. „We still need to finish you up tho, the tattoos need to be protected.“ You mentioned, knowing you were still not done with your work.

„Yea sure but after you wrap them up…do you still have any customers coming today?“ Jinx asked with that special look on her face, knowing what she wanted. „You’re the only one today love. You want me to lock the doors?“ You asked mostly in a joking way but Jinx’s smile became darker, showing a little hint of lust.

„Yes…it’s time for me to take care of you after you did such a good job my love.“ She answered and you were eager to finish this up so you can focus on each other more and finally getting closer to each other like you always dreamed of.

[kurogane2512]

Imagine being tight eith yellow rops for hours in bed, wanting to get that sweet realise, yet Agalaea does not let her darling to cut. And all becouse they behave badly...

Yup exactly the kind of Aglaea thirsts I was expecting you guys know me so well 😇

18+ CONTENT

Honkai Star Rail

Aglaea x fem!reader || Smut

A/n: I'm not too good with poetic writing and Aglaea's manner of speech is a nightmare for me but I'll try my best so as to keep her in character, sorry mommy Aglaea I can't write you too well 😓

Delicate trickling of water and sounds of soft breathing enveloped your senses. Sweat melted down your bare body as you laid stripped of all clothing barriers on none other than Lady Aglaea's private chamber. Your eyes covered by a golden silk cloth, all your other senses were heightened especially touch and hearing. You heard faint rustling of clothes followed by feeling the bed sink as someone— most likely Lady Aglaea, climbed on and approached you.

"My angel, relinquish your inhibitions, for now you are in my care~"

Her silvery yet commanding voice brushed past your ears, a shiver going down your spine when her lips lingered, her warm breath tickling your skin. You instinctively recoiled, yet couldn't even move an inch since your limbs were bound by Lady Aglaea's golden threads. Her eyes hooded at your reaction, the threads conveying each and every emotion you felt. She extended a hand to cup your face and gently caressed it, then leaned down to peck your lips.

"It seems my darling has been caught in some unruly incidents, is there anything you'd like to say in your defense?~"

"I.... I didn't mean to deceive you. I was just—"

"Shh~" she placed her index finger on your lips, hushing you.

"I'm well aware of your actions and the intentions behind them, but that doesn't change the repurcusions caused, does it?~"

Your lips trembled, "S-Sorry, it won't be repeated...."

"I'm certain about that. However, an appropriate punishment will be bestowed for your defiance~"

You felt her hand trace your lips and down your chest then suddenly felt the threads tighten around your ankles and spread your legs more, causing you to whine.

"Now, my love, you shall listen to my voice and do as I say lest you disappoint me again~"

You eagerly nodded, making Aglaea smile.

The next few moments were nothing but a blur as you let out screams of pleasure, tears clouding your vision and body arching off the bed simply being held by the golden threads. Aglaea stuffed a specially made toy in your hole, the buzzing of the toy drowning out all other sounds except Aglaea's occasional words near your ear. She controlled the toy with her golden threads, simply waving her fingers to command its movements.

All the same while, her lips dragged over every inch of your skin on your face and down your neck, licking and biting you for herself. The cloth around your eyes was stained with tears by now, and the movement of the toy in your cunt was making you lose your mind. Aglaea merely smiled at your state and leaned down to press your lips together, as if granting some kind of sweet relief.

"Relax, my love. Give your body to the golden threads~"

Having your vision stripped made you far more sensitive to every touch and feel she did, even whispers of her voice making you shiver to the core. Aglaea moved her hand to touch your clit now, gently grasping and circling it while the toy vibrated inside you. You whimpered into her, making her tease you even more as she rubbed your clit faster.

"P-Please.... Lady Aglaea.... I want to—!~"

Aglaea smiled, "Your release hasn't been granted yet, my love. You remember this is still a punishment, don't you?~"

You whined more at her order, desperately trying to hold back. You tried to bring your legs together but were in vain as the threads effortlessly spread them apart with a simple wave from Aglaea and the toy pushed even deeper, touching your sensitive spots. Aglaea then leaned down to tease your breasts, gently running her tongue over your nipples and pinching them. The added stimulation to your breasts made things harder as you recoiled away, fumbling your limbs around and making the bed creak.

"Hm, you are being rather disobedient. Seems I shall bring in some aid~"

You stopped moving at her statement, realizing what she possibly meant. In no time, Aglaea summoned two of her mannequin puppets around you, their presence looming over you despite being blindfolded. One of the mannequins held your arms while the other removed the toy inside your hole and instead inserted its own finger, gradually caressing your outer folds. You bit your lower lip and shivered from the cold metallic sensation, once again trying to close your legs but were unsuccessful.

"Ah, this is better. Now I am capable of performing the correct measure of punishment~"

You soon felt something on top of you and were quick to realize it was none other than Aglaea as she moved to straddle your lap. Her painted fingers caressed every crevice of your body, tracing sensual patterns as if painting a blank canvas before stopping at your nipples. The mannequin near your legs now pushed inside you, parting your walls to accommodate its fingers while Aglaea pinched and groped your breasts. You threw your head back with a whimper feeling the mannequin's fingers fill you, the sensation somehow even more stimulating than the vibrating toy.

Aglaea smiled and leaned down to kiss you again, her tongue slowly licking your lower lip and slipping in. She was quick to explore your mouth, yet moved with gentle and precise motions before dancing your tongues together in harmony. You moaned into the kiss as the mannequin thrusted in and out of you, pleasure overcoming you and edging you to release. Aglaea's eyes hooded watching you while kissing, her hand moving to cup your face and tilt it to deepen the kiss while she commanded the mannequin to thrust faster.

"Aaahn! L-Lady Aglaea, please..... I-It's too much— ngh!~"

Aglaea leaned up with a soft chuckle then slyly moved her right arm behind and touched your clit, a startled moan instantly resounding in the room.

"Will you be a good girl and listen to me from now on, my angel?~"

"Y-Yes! I promise! Please let me....!~"

She smiled and moved the mannequin out of you then vanished them altogether, the empty feeling in your core was quickly replaced by her fingers as she pushed them inside and thrusted at a wild speed, eager to make you release.

"Cum now, my sweet girl. You have been pardoned for your sin, let me bask in the revelry of your pleasure~"

Her words came as a command, an unignorable order which you were waiting for what felt like an eternity. She hilted her fingers deep inside and hit your most sensitive spots, issuing your allowance to release on her fingers. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as you came, clenching onto her fingers buried inside you and coating them with your essence. A squelching sound was produced when Aglaea pulled out her fingers and felt the sensation of your essence around them with a smirk drawn on her lips.

She then released the golden threads binding your limbs as well, giving you the much-needed rest and comfort as you fell limp and panted. She moved down from your body and sat beside you to pull your head on her lap, gently caressing your face and hair before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Splendidly done, my love. I see a reward is in line for your obedience and resilience. Come, accompany me to the bath~"

[luvst4rc0r3]

“The price of love”

Sevika x F!reader

Apocalypse AU

Warnings:death?

WC:681

Note: there is probably gonna be a part two because I cannot do sad endings😭

The safe house was barely standing. Wood creaked under the weight of the storm outside, and the faint smell of damp earth seeped through the cracks in the rotting walls. Sevika had you pinned beneath her on the tattered couch, her flesh arm braced beside your head while her metal one teased at your waist, her sharp smirk betraying her softer, unspoken feelings.

“You keep staring at me like that,” she murmured, her voice low and gravelly, “and I’m going to start thinking you actually like me.”

Your laugh was soft, shaky. The apocalypse had a way of robbing joy, leaving behind only desperate echoes of it. But Sevika? She was a living, breathing piece of joy you refused to let slip away. “Maybe I do like you. What then?”

“Then you’ve got terrible taste,” she teased, leaning down to kiss you. Her lips were surprisingly soft—one of those small, rare comforts in a world that had gone to hell.

The kiss deepened, and for a moment, you forgot about the rotting corpses outside. It was just you and Sevika, the weight of her frame grounding you as her hand brushed your cheek. You almost smiled against her lips, ready to whisper something about how you’d never let her go.

That’s when you heard it: the guttural growl.

“Sevika, behind you!” you screamed.

Her instincts were sharp, but not sharp enough this time. The zombie—a grotesque husk of what might’ve been a human once—lunged, its decaying hands reaching for her exposed back. It was too close. Too fast.

And without thinking, you moved.

You shoved her off of you, rolling into the creature’s path. Its claws sank into your shoulder before its teeth followed, ripping into flesh. Pain exploded, white-hot and blinding, but it was nothing compared to the fear in Sevika’s eyes as she realized what just happened.

“No!” Her voice cracked with rage and disbelief as she scrambled to her feet, her metal arm winding back to deliver a blow that crushed the zombie’s skull in one swift motion. Its body slumped over, but the damage was already done.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” she roared, grabbing you, her hands trembling as she tried to inspect the wound. The blood was pouring too fast. Too much.

“Had to,” you gasped, your vision blurring. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t lose you.”

“You’re not losing me, damn it!” Sevika barked, her voice shaking. She was panicking, for once utterly unable to control the situation. “We can—we’ll find something. There’s still time.”

You reached up, your hand brushing her jaw. “No time, Sev. You know that.”

Her lips parted as though to argue, but the words didn’t come. She knew you were right. Once bitten, the infection spread fast. Minutes, maybe seconds.

“You have to go,” you choked out, your body already feeling heavier. “Run. Before I…”

Her eyes burned with fury. “Don’t you dare tell me to leave you. I’m not—”

“You have to,” you interrupted, grabbing the front of her shirt with what little strength you had left. “I won’t be able to stop myself. You can’t stay. Not for this.”

Her jaw clenched, metal fingers twitching at her side. “I can’t—I won’t leave you.”

“Sevika, please.” Your voice cracked, and her name felt like glass in your throat. “You have to live. For me.”

She stared at you, the storm outside muffling the sound of her ragged breathing. Her good hand cupped your face as though memorizing every inch of it. “I love you,” she finally admitted, her voice breaking. “I should’ve said it sooner.”

You smiled faintly, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I know. I love you too.”

She kissed you one last time, a desperate, searing thing that left her trembling. And then, as your eyes clouded with the infection and your hand fell limp, Sevika stood. She didn’t look back.

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving you alone in the dark as the virus finished its cruel work.

And somewhere in the distance, Sevika’s scream echoed into the night.

Ain’t no way am I not making a part two

I want food and sleep

[jenosonlywife23]

Hoodie-Tee

Lowkey got pissed while proofreading this hehe!!! Anyway Jeno is so cute teehee!!

The sun was shining brightly, the perfect weather for a picnic. A light breeze carried the laughter of your group as you all sat on a checkered blanket, snacks and drinks scattered everywhere. Jaemin was laying on his back, staring at the clouds. Haechan was cracking jokes, making everyone double over with laughter, while Chenle munched on a bag of chips, giving commentary on everything.

You were seated beside Jeno, comfortably leaning against him as you picked at some fruit. Things were perfect—until Arin shivered and caught Jeno’s attention.

“Are you cold?” Jeno asked, already shrugging off his hoodie before she could respond.

Your eyes narrowed slightly. Oh, really?

“I’m fine, but—”

“Here,” Jeno said, draping his hoodie over her shoulders.

“Thanks, Jeno,” Arin said with a smile that lingered a little too long for your liking.

Chenle, ever the observant one, glanced at you with raised eyebrows, his chewing slowing as if he were watching a drama unfold. You pursed your lips, trying to keep your composure. It wasn’t Arin’s fault, but it still stung. Jeno’s hoodies were your thing, something he always reserved for you.

He should know that.

When Jeno leaned toward you with a bright grin, holding up a strawberry like he was offering you a gift, you turned your head away.

“Not hungry,” you mumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

Jeno blinked, confused. “You sure? You love strawberries.”

“I’m sure.”

Haechan looked over, sensing the tension. “Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?” he teased.

“Shut up, Haechan,” you snapped, a little sharper than intended.

Jaemin finally sat up, rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken from a nap. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you and Jeno said in unison, though your tone was far less convincing.

Chenle, still munching his chips, leaned closer to you and whispered, “You okay? You’re looking a little… stormy.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though your clenched jaw said otherwise.

Jeno reached for your hand, but you pulled it away, grabbing a drink instead. He frowned, his confusion growing by the second.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, leaning closer.

“Nothing,” you said, plastering on a fake smile. “I’m just peachy.”

Jeno tilted his head, his gaze searching yours. “Did I do something?”

Finally, a clue. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Nope. Not at all.”

Haechan snickered. “Bro, she’s mad at you.”

“I’m not mad!” you insisted, though your voice was a little too loud.

“Yeah, you’re not mad,” Chenle chimed in, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Jeno looked between you and Arin, clearly trying to piece things together. When it finally clicked, his eyes widened. “Wait, are you upset because I gave her my hoodie?”

You stayed silent, sipping your drink aggressively.

“Babe…” Jeno started, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, Jeno. It’s just a hoodie.”

“But—”

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the wrist, yanked him toward you, and put him in a light headlock, your strength catching him off guard.

“My hoodie. My thing,” you muttered close to his ear, your voice low and sharp.

Jaemin burst out laughing, nearly toppling over. Haechan was cackling so hard he had to hold his stomach, while Chenle simply gave you a slow clap.

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Jeno said, his voice muffled as he tried to wiggle out of your hold. “You’re gonna mess up my hair!”

“Good,” you said, finally letting him go.

He turned to face you, his cheeks flushed and his hair slightly mussed. “I didn’t know it meant that much to you.”

“Well, now you do,” you said, crossing your arms.

Jeno reached for your hand again, this time gripping it firmly when you tried to pull away. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone earnest. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. My hoodies are yours, okay? Only yours.”

“Damn right,” you muttered, though the corners of your lips twitched upward.

Arin, oblivious to the drama, returned the hoodie with a sheepish smile. “Thanks again, Jeno. I’m fine now.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jeno said, though he didn’t even glance her way. His full attention was on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Forgive me?”

You sighed, finally relenting. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “And you’re scary when you’re jealous.”

“You haven’t seen scary yet,” you teased, though you couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto your face.

As the group dissolved into more laughter, Chenle leaned over and whispered, “That was better than any K-drama.”

“Shut up, Chenle,” you said, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

[letsquestjess]

Paint My Love (Echo x F!Reader)

Summary: Echo loves to see you paint, but doesn't bank on the swell of emotions when you lovingly paint your love onto him.

Word count: 2.1K

Warning: 18+ / MDNI! Smut. Unprotected PiV.

-- -- -- -- --

With a gliding swipe of the paintbrush, blush tones outstripped and tempered the fiery red beneath. Fleecy clouds met with silky sky, the canvas filling with the delightful distant landscape as your rendition unfolded in mellow curves and serene shades. 

Your involvement in the clone network rarely permitted you time to indulge in a hobby. Planet hopping, eluding blaster bolts, and cracking codes occupied every waking moment, hauling captive and injured clones from the depths of Imperial prisons and extracting vital information from enemy systems. The task you undertook voluntarily, a decision you neither regretted nor deplored, but in the process, you abandoned much of your life. 

In moments such as these, you gladly seized whatever buffers and downtime you were offered without complaint about the shortness of the respite or the chance of being called to another critical situation. Everything Rex and his network did ensured a better galaxy, a denial of victory and power to the Empire, and the opportunity to see the sun rise over the freedom of every despairing world. 

You hoped the sunrise of that prospective dawn promised to prove as beautiful and inspiring as the one you painted, tracking the migration of sky vapours with your brush and the silvery streak contrasting the subdued corals and cardinals. A lilac hue crowned the horizon, and you contemplated which tints to mix to get the matching shade. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you painting,” Echo commented as he descended the ramp, distracted by the array of pleasing colours and shapes crafted by your skillful hand. 

“It’s been a while since I had the chance,” you replied. “Does Rex know to expect some more brothers?”

“He does. Also told him we’re going to stay for a couple of days to check the transmissions. I’ve set up a sweep of Imperial systems, but it could take a while, so we have some time.” 

Scomp link coasting down your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, he considered your artwork with a contented grin. “You always manage to see the good in everything.” 

“Bad things do not deserve a thought wasted on them,” you replied with a decided shrug. “I reserve that space for the things that make me happy.” 

“And that stubborn streak.” 

In answer to his jest, you dabbed his nose with the tip of your paintbrush and swallowed a chuckle at the responding arched eyebrow, dropping the brush into the jar of pigmented water. 

“I’m not used to having free time,” you said, mopping up the sapphire blob with the frayed towel over your shoulder. “What will we do?” 

“Wait for the scans and ensure we’re ready to move as soon as we get the results, but the rest, I suppose we… relax.” His face scrunched as though he sniffed something foul. That sounded wrong. In their line of work, relaxation never presented itself. Not even in times of quiet. 

The rumination creased his features, and you eased your fingertips up to his cheekbones to encourage him to loosen up. “At any rate, I’m going to need more canvases. I didn’t realise I had my supplies until I checked the cupboard last night. Must have left them there when I painted those posters for Rex.” 

Echo nosed into your touch. Faith in the good and your confidence in a better tomorrow shone in those images, declaring to the galaxy that they were defended and inspiring them to rise. “You could always use me,” he said, more tease in his tone and temptation in the amber flecks in his eyes than he intended. “As a canvas, I mean. If you needed. I… um… wouldn’t be opposed to you… trying that out…”

Covering his face in embarrassment with a gloved hand and his posture slumping, he retreated. Since you formed your attachment almost a year ago, his attempts at flirting grew worse in his mind, fumbled words attempting to sound exciting and falling flat. Yet each time, you found him more endearing and increasingly sweet.  

“The paints I use are safe for skin if you wanted to be my canvas,” you told him, removing the rectangular painting from the easel and setting it beside the ship steps to dry. 

He wound up to graciously refuse, to insist he did not wish to disturb your quiet peace or steal away your artistic resources, but everything you touched with your talents, you planted a shred of your soul into, and he pondered how he might look with your creations decorating him. “Actually, I’d like that.”

“In that case,” you said, your bright smile making every facet glow, “I’ll go set up the cockpit and I can paint you while we wait for those scans.” 

Spare rolls of fabric draped the co-pilot seat, and a tiered palette kept the array of matte and metallic colours neat while you organised your utensils. Pillars of sunlight provided a muted bloom, and settling Echo into the covered seat, you counted the various brushes and tested the bristles were smooth enough not to irritate his skin. 

“You’ll have to remove your shirt if you want me to paint on you,” you told him, offering an opening for him to retract his offer if he decided not to continue. He pulled an arm and his scomp link through the sleeves of his blacks and set the article of clothing over the navigation console chair. 

“Am I sat right?” he asked, wriggling and twisting in the seat. “I can move if you need me to, or-”

You dumped your jacket onto the inactive panel behind you and covered his lap with an old tatty blanket. “Just relax.”

Soaking the first brush into a silky maroon tint, you knelt and softly began your patterns. You let your heart guide your hand, winding around the embedded ports in his stomach and chuckling at the slight laugh he returned when the strands tickled his sternum. 

The colour choices flowed with your instincts, motifs and designs floating in your mind as you washed the brushes in between each pigment. You tuned into the steady swell and drop of Echo’s chest, meeting every breath tenderly pushing at the paintbrush. 

Enraptured in your concentration and the blossoms of your creativity, Echo remained unmoving, peeping as you expressed your love on his torso. You never ceased to amaze him in your artistry and your innovation, head tilted at a tender angle and teeth snagging your bottom lip as you chewed in studious contemplation. Your innate ingenuity permeated other parts of your life and on more than one occasion, hauled you from the fire and came to your aid, preventing you from ending up in an Imperial prison or worse. 

Stars, he wished he could express how you made him feel, how your radiance warmed him and your surety emboldened him to believe the galaxy would see better days. He hoped you realised how wonderful you were, that you never once needed to doubt yourself, because if he had to place bets on anyone, it would always be you. 

Inch by inch, brilliant designs of strength and light coated his skin, the rising and easing of his chest pulling the strings of his life into glorious being. For the first time in far too long, he felt himself, vibrant like he once was before the explosion that ripped him apart and remade him a machine. Your art brought together both parts of him into acceptance and new perspectives. 

“How incredible you are,” he breathed in a besotted exhale, swallowing the bloated tears of elation. 

His palm nestled your cheek and his thumb flicked over your lips. You set the brush aside and went to cup his face, stopping short at the stain on your palms. 

“Considering how much paint I have on my chest, do you think I’d mind a little more?” Echo coaxed you onto his lap, mindful of the drying designs as he let you wiggle yourself comfortable. “Thank you.” 

“What for?” you asked, planting a kiss to the tip of his nose and trailing your lips towards his neck. 

“Reminding me who I am.” 

Your kisses ceased, and you fixed on the reminiscent glimmer in his gaze. “You don’t need me to remind you who you are.” 

“Sometimes I forget. It’s like I was someone completely different before… before everything that happened, but that same trooper is still in there.” His scomp link rested on the small of your back and his thumb massaged circles on your hip. 

“Still the same foolhardy ARC trooper to me,” you assured him, fingers delighting in the contours of his face before idling on his jaw. “Only now with added stubble.” You scratched playfully at the scruff on his chin. “What was it Rex told me once? You used to shave so meticulously you could use your cheeks as mirrors?” 

A spirited chuckle rumbled in the depths of Echo’s chest and your designs fluttered with the movement. “That is a wild exaggeration.”

“Wild exaggeration, huh?” 

Echo clocked the mischief in your tone and the arched eyebrow as you pursued the strain in his pants. At the wriggle in your feigned repositioning and the grind of your hips, he momentarily closed his eyes and grunted under his breath. Maker have mercy for the way you liked to tease him. 

“I know you’re doing that on purpose,” Echo pointed out.

“Am not.”

“I believe that is what we would definitely call a wild exaggeration.” 

You gasped dramatically and splayed your fingers on his chest. As he laughed at your antics, he wrenched your hips down onto him again. “Anyone would think you liked that,” you cooed, your own arousal dripping and desperate for attention. 

“Perhaps I do,” he responded, dipping his thumb into the waistband of your pants. His touches graced your core, tiny flicks and presses of his fingertips edging you towards delight. 

Hungry for him the more your flirts danced, you hopped off him to remove your clothing and straddled him before the fabric even hit the cockpit floor. Soft kisses became starved as you rocked on him, the intensity between your legs unbearable. 

“It’s been too long since we’ve had some time to ourselves,” Echo panted. 

“Need you,” you keened, intent on not permitting your nails to sink into his shoulder in your haste to feel more of him. 

“No patience?” 

You shook your head and stopped grinding your hips long enough for him to reach into his underwear and withdraw his cock, give it a few pumps, and line himself with your entrance.

“Take your time, love,” Echo soothed, sensing the impatience in the little creases between your brows as you gradually sank onto him. “We don’t need to rush.” 

While you knew you had no reason to hurry, the ache within you burned boundless and fluorescent. You lowered yourself the last centimetre, and a satisfied breath escaped your chest at the fill. 

In an unhurried, endless rhythm, your thighs tensed in the rolling flow and you brought yourself down again on his length, assisted by his encouraging lift as he met you halfway. As your bodies moved as one, your breaths intermingled, kisses exchanged instead of words between the rise and drop of your love. 

“Echo,” you whined, the knot inside you unravelling and pulling deliciously as he buried himself in your heat and rolled your nipple between a finger and thumb, the thought of approaching your activity without haste abandoned. You both needed each other. Patience be damned to the depths. 

Your whimpers met with a low grunt. Neither of you were going to last much longer, you craved that closeness, that blessed bond. Building the friction between your sweat-coated skin, you crested the gratifying wave together, nails biting into flesh and your climaxes hitting their groan-filled peaks. 

Echo clutched you as the final throes circuited and fizzled, nuzzling at your neck. He peered down between your bodies where paint smeared his torso and residue smudges dusted yours. 

“Maybe we should wash this off,” you suggested in a calming breath as his release began to leak out between your legs. “Share a shower and save some water. Who knows how long we will be waiting for the scans to complete?” 

“Hopefully long enough for us to do this again,” Echo chuckled, boosting you into his arms, still comfortably inside you. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll make some breakfast.” 

“You spoil me,” you murmured, snuggling into the rocking motion as he moved you to the rear of the ship. 

“Oh, that’s just for starters.” He balanced you in one arm and nudged the button for the fresher with his scomp link, the door whooshing open. “I’m going to spoil you as much as I can and then some.” 

If you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, feel free to send me a message (18+ only).

@cw80831 @stardusthuntress @spicy-clones