#thanks for the request! still taking more

[kashverse]

mamakuna showing babykuna pictures of dadkuna and mamakuna when they started dating to then getting married : 3

this was such a sweet thing to write, thank you for requesting :)

sometimes, when you feel particularly sentimental, you like to take out an old shoebox hidden in the back of your closet—a silly little memory box from when you and sukuna were still young, brimming with more ambition than the capitalist machine could ever contain.

and, naturally, babykuna, with her insatiable curiosity and her obsessive love for anything you do, wiggles herself onto your lap, her chubby hands grabbing at the pictures you pull out. "what’s this one, mama?" she asks excitedly, waving around a photo.

it’s an old one. a bit worn at the edges. you smile fondly as you look at it—it's from back when you and sukuna were just coworkers, sitting stiffly in a boardroom, surrounded by serious-looking people in suits. your hair is neatly pulled back, and sukuna’s? a disaster. 

"this was when papa and i worked together at our old job," you explain, pointing to yourselves. babykuna squints at the picture, then at her father sitting beside you, who is watching the two of you with amusement. "papa looks like he fought a tornado," she says matter-of-factly. sukuna scoffs. "it was called having style."

"it was called oversleeping and showing up late," you correct, laughing. sukuna grumbles under his breath, but babykuna is already diving into the box again, plucking out another picture. this one is years later—in front of the building of sukuna's newly formed company. his tie is a bit loosened, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and he's beaming—really beaming—in a way he wasn't in the last picture. "this is when papa started his own company," you explain, brushing your fingers over the photo.

"he looks so happy!" babykuna giggles. "yeah," you chuckle, nudging sukuna. "he was so happy he picked me up and spun me around right after this was taken."

"that’s called celebrating," sukuna says smugly. babykuna nods seriously, then turns back to the box.

next, she pulls out a photobooth strip—four little snapshots.

first one: you and sukuna sitting side by side, a little stiff but comfortable.

second one: sukuna leaning in a little closer, you both mid-laugh.

third one: you two are cheek to cheek now, eyes crinkled with amusement.

fourth one: sukuna halfway through biting your cheek. your face is a picture of betrayal.

"papa, why are you eating mama?!" babykuna exclaims, horrified. "i was just showing my love," sukuna grins.

"with your teeth?!"

"yep."

"ew."

you sigh, shaking your head, but the next picture has you laughing immediately. it’s a shot of you and sukuna in matching santa costumes, both looking like you were dragged into this against your will. your mouth is open mid-yell, probably reacting to sukuna biting your cheek—again. "uncle gojo's birthday party," you say, still laughing.

babykuna stares at the photo. "papa," she says slowly.

"yeah?"

"why do you keep biting mama?!"

"i like the way she tastes."

"ewwww!"

and then finally—she finds the last set of photos. polaroids, from your wedding. not the big, polished, magazine-worthy shots hung around your home—these ones are natural, candid, genuine. one where you and sukuna are laughing mid-toast, your glasses clinking together. one where sukuna is helping you fix your veil, an unexpectedly soft look on his face. one where you’re leaning against his chest, eyes closed, his arms wrapped around you. babykuna gasps dramatically. "mama, papa, you look so boo-tiful."

"yeah?" sukuna murmurs, looking over the photos with a soft smirk. babykuna nods. "like princess and dragon."

you snort. “who's who?” 

she blinks. 

"…obviously papa is the dragon."

sukuna grins, ruffling her hair. "damn right."

babykuna presses the photos to her chest, looking between you and sukuna with the happiest little smile. "i wanna keep these forever."

sukuna leans back, watching the two of you gush over the memories, and realizes something - he's already won everything he's ever wanted.

[ssahotchnerr]

Have you thought of doing a fic where Aaron and Reader are play fighting and Aaron ends up on top of reader? (Doesn’t have to be smut, but if you wanted…)

-🗣️

pinned down

i have not but now i'm OBSESSED cw; fem!reader, established relationship, small hurt to comfort, playful banter, fluff and some suggestion 💓

"Hi honey."

"Hi," you responded, keeping your face hidden in your drawer as Aaron entered the bedroom. He had stayed at the office late, kept by heaps of paperwork and reports. "Did you manage to get everything done?"

One thing about being in a relationship with a profiler, rarely anything got past him, noticing the smallest of shifts in your behavior. A slight change in the way you blinked, brief hesitation in your voice, even the way you held yourself could be enough for him to sense something was off.

Aaron didn't answer, but rather he came to your side, his hand finding your waist. It rest comfortably, his thumb grazing the exposed skin above your waistline. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you answered flatly, rearranging your socks as a way to keep yourself occupied.

"You sure?" His tone wavered in question, unconvinced.

"Mhm." With a shrug, you shut the drawer.

It just hadn't been your day, to simply put it. It had started off bumpy, waking up on the wrong side of the bed. You got Jack to school a little late, spent much more time at a store doing a return than you would have liked, and then got drenched by an unexpected downpour on your way to your car. To top it off, you came back to find a parking ticket waiting for you, all thanks to the meter running out.

Now, you turned and made your way back to the bed, where the laundry basket was waiting. You grabbed Aaron's clean pajamas, setting those out for his convenience.

However, just as your fingers brushed the fabric of the next shirt, Aaron swiftly intervened. He placed the basket on the floor, far out of reach.

You weren't mad at him; it was more that you were looking for any excuse to let your frustration spill onto something else. You met his eyes, a really? plastered across your face. "Aaron."

His choice of rebuttal - grabbing ahold of your waist and throwing you onto the bed, landing with you in a soft thud.

"Aaron!" His name left you in a whine, soon blending into your laughter.

You attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, but his position on top allowed him the leverage to pin you down tightly. That, and the simple fact that he was much stronger than you.

A mischievous glint filled in his eyes, his lips curved in an amused, sly smile. "Yes?"

"Lemme go!" You squeaked, fighting against his hold which he solidly maintained. All your worries seemed to vanish in an instant; the lingering, heavy weight in the middle of your chest lessening as each laugh left you.

"I don't know about that."

"I can't breathe." Tears rolled out from the corner of your eyes due to laughing so profusely. While partially true, you hoped he'd take the bait.

He let go, and you switched tactics. With all your weight, you shifted yourself, slipping out from under him and overpowering him next. You nudged into his side, causing him to fall.

That left you smirking above, straddling him as you held tightly onto his forearms.

"That's cute, sweetheart." He gazed up at you affectionately.

"Is it?" You taunted as your chest rose up and down, a breathless giggle leaving you.

"Y'know," his head tilted, feigning a light, offended pout. "You never gave me a kiss when I got home."

It was too easy to fall for his trap, the temptation to kiss him overtaking the desire to hold onto any remaining grudges you still held against this morning and your local Virginia-state parking attendant. All of which would've been easier to bear if he had been with you. You suddenly found yourself missing him, despite the fact he was right here.

The second you leaned in to grant his request, he bumped his hips up, causing you to lose your balance and topple off him - over to the side and onto the comforter.

Only a few seconds later, you were caged in again; Aaron was top of you, pinning your hands above your head. You relaxed, your posture succumbing to the mattress below; an open invitation for him to have his way with you.

"Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?" His face was a few centimeters away from yours, your skin warming from the heat of his breath. He adjusted his grasp, using one hand to hold both your wrists.

"No," you answered, gazing up at him with a spark of playful defiance.

You also took a moment to enjoy the view above you. Aaron's dark eyes, the cowlicks hanging over his forehead, his broad chest (in which the buttons of his shirt were clinging to for dear life), his cologne filling your nose. You were surrounded by him entirely.

"Can you be persuaded?" His eyebrows rose teasingly, leaning in to press a few kisses along your jaw. He let his lips linger, before trailing to your neck and doing the same thing there. He craned back to meet your gaze, inquisitively.

"Maybe. Depends on how convincing you can be." You quipped back, with an almost impish smile that hinted at your mood. It was clear that whatever you'd been upset about, long gone now. You'd still share the reasoning, but in due time.

A delightful laugh escaped him, filled with warmth and fondness. "Is that a challenge, sweetheart?"

[imujings]

[ot13] 13 ways to say three little words

synopsis. | the words that seventeen use to say i love you.

♯ pairing(s). | seventeen x gn!reader (all separate) ♯ genre(s). | fluff, established relationships ♯ wc. | 1.5k ♯ warnings. | cursing (k.sy), eating habits (j.ww), insecure thoughts (l.jh), crying (x.mh), food mentions (k.mg, c.hs)

jay’s musings. | 🎧 my heart it beats for you - grent perez

001 — 🍒. Before you can even unfasten your seat belt, Seungcheol's door clicks shut and he's on your side of the car, his smile warming you up through the window. You immediately make a noise of protest, seeing the numerous grocery bags lining his arms. He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head as he opens the door for you. "Let me handle it." He knows you’re able to do it yourself, but why should you when he’s there, ready to help in less than a moment’s notice? (That, and he takes pride in the way your eyes savor his biceps.) You can pout all you want, sure, yet the man will just kiss your forehead, telling you that you can help him by unlocking the front door and making yourself comfortable inside.

002 — 🪽. “Come over here, please,” isn't as uncommon of a phase as you think it would be from Jeonghan. He's not one to beg—and would never admit to doing so in front of someone other than you—but there’s something about the way you bundle into the bedroom, dressed in nothing but his sweater, that makes his heart squeeze. His stomach does a cartwheel at your sleepy smile and the words tumble out of his mouth in a soft, lethally desirous whine. When you glance over at his request, the man’s lips are pursed, displeased at the fact that you aren’t currently curled into his side. Unfortunately for you, he won’t say anything more until you giggle and relent to his wishes, falling into his arms as he tells you just how much he’s missed you.

003 — 🦌. Joshua’s beaming smile greets you in your kitchen, his shining eyes drinking in the tiredness of your own. You must’ve woken up from a nap. “I was just thinking about you,” the man says while turning away from the stove with a mug in hand. It’s your favorite hot drink, still steaming with heat. You graciously thank him and soak in the warmth of the beverage. The patter of rain outside does nothing to help you wake up for productivity, and you know for a fact this won’t contribute anything to it, either. Even more so when he’s already guiding you to your cozy living room, his arm circling around your waist and asking what show you want to put on.

004 — 🐈. As the two of you hop into the taxi, hand in hand, Jun’s quiet question reaches your ears. “Sit next to me?” You still don’t really understand why he asks every single time, especially when it’s only you two traveling. But of course, you agree, and he sacrifices the window seat to sit in the middle, head already falling to your shoulder with a sleepy drawl. Your cheek rests against the man’s hairline as you gaze out the window. You’ll wake him up when you reach your destination, huffing that that’s the last time you’ll let him pull a dirty trick like that, but not before you press a soft kiss to his temple and intertwine your fingers with his.

005 — 🐯. When Soonyoung asks you if you had recently switched the brand of shampoo and conditioner you use, you have half the mind to tell him straight up how weird it is that he’s smelling your hair. He barks out a laugh at your comment, saying that it’s not his fault you have a certain aura, scent, and vibe to you that he would notice even the slightest amount of change. His laugh quickly fades when you ask just what the hell he could possibly mean. Face slowly warming at the incredulous way he stares at you, as if you had asked why the sky was blue, the man’s next words make you melt. “What are you talking about? I notice you all the time.”

006 — 🦊. It’s almost two in the afternoon when a takeout bag is placed down on the table next to you, the smell wafting from it suspiciously similar to your favorite food. “Have you eaten today?” Wonwoo’s question has you flinching, eyes blinking up and away from your computer for the first time in what feels like hours. His own eyes soften at your demeanor, pulling out the chair next to you and settling in before beginning to take the food and utensils out. The man doesn't say anything more about the topic, instead opting to give you little updates about his day. As you two eat together, he lets his thigh press against yours, and you indulge yourself—just this once. (Until he, like always, shows up again.)

007 — 🍚. The poem is short and sweet. You had wracked your brain all night trying to find the perfect words to encapsulate how you feel, but as you stand before Jihoon now, your nerves are on fire. You watch as his eyes take in the curves of your handwriting, silent. He probably thought these simple words were unoriginal. Boring. Cheesy. Meaningless. You’re snapped out of your self-deprecating thoughts when the man suddenly coughs loudly, hiding his reddening face beneath his hands. His tone is meek. “Ah, you’re really something, aren’t you?” But he’s grinning, and then his lips crash into yours with a desperation you’ve never felt from him until now.

008 — 🐸. Your vision is blurry, and you aren’t really sure where you are until Minghao’s soft, reassuring voice and soothing hand at your back are processed by your brain. “I’m here, I’m here,” he murmurs. You hiccup and cling to him, your sobs slowly subsiding. It’s a little hard to breathe for a while, but with his help you’re able to lean back against your cushioned couch without feeling like the world is crumbling around you. When the man goes to make you a cup of tea you beg him to stay with you, but he merely shakes his head, wiping away the tears on your streak-stained cheeks. “I’ll be right back, okay? Stay strong now. I believe in you.”

009 — 🐶. Rows of stocked shelves with various yummy foods do nothing to distract you from your goal. You tug on Mingyu’s sleeve and ask him if you two could have a certain food you’ve been craving lately for dinner. An apology is ready to spill right after, knowing he probably already had prior plans for what to cook, but he doesn’t even hesitate before turning into a different aisle where he knows the ingredients lie. You let out a little cheer that confuses and amuses the man all at once. Why are you even entertaining the idea of him saying no? It’s your world, and he’s just living in it. “Of course,” he hums when you thank him profusely. “Whatever you want.”

010 — ⚔️. In the dead of winter, Seoul’s city air is, quite frankly, freezing. The scarf covering your face, along with your mittens and thick winter coat, all feel like thin notebook paper against the biting winter wind. Seokmin, on the other hand, is snugly encased around your arm and giggling all the while during your walk. “You’re so warm!” he laughs, the man’s gloved hands digging into your clothes like you’ll float away if he isn’t careful. He doesn’t even have a hood on, and you scold him for this, to which he just hugs you tighter. A particularly harsh gust of wind threatens to topple you two over and he presses his face to yours, skin surprisingly toasty. “No, I’m okay, really. I mean, how can I be cold when I’m with you like this?”

011 — 🍊. Seungkwan fiddles with the photograph in his hands. “We knew each other too late.” His gaze is almost mournful, and it tears at your heart, resting your head on the man’s shoulder as you murmur that fate has its reasons. He huffs as he slides the photo—one of you and him from an outing, smiling with cheeks pressed against each other—into its placeholder that’s colorfully decorated with stickers and annotations in pen. Closing your shared scrapbook of memories, he lays his head on yours and speaks softly into the silence. “You don’t understand. I wish I could’ve known you longer. I wish I could’ve made more memories with you. I wish I had known you sooner.”

012 — 🐢. Your hand is already on the doorknob when you call out to Hansol that you’ll be going to run some errands. To your delight, the man is at your side immediately. “Okay. I’ll go with you.” He helps you pick out some bright red strawberries for the shortcake you want to try making tomorrow. He gives his opinion on what flowers would look best on your dining room table (spoiler alert: they’re white tulips). He even goes with you to the post office, standing in line for a whopping thirty seconds as you drop off your return package. On the way back to the car, you ask him what he wants to do next. He shrugs with an easy smile. “S’long as it's with you, I’m cool with whatever.”

013 — 🦦. “I knew you could do it!” Chan cheers, strong arms grabbing your waist to lift you up and spin you around. Your laughter is contagious, infecting him with your symptoms of pure adoration and a lightened heart. He places you gently on the ground, letting go for only a moment before his arms are enveloping you again in a hug. His comforting cologne fills your senses and you relax against his hold. Your body feels weightless, somehow, and any heaviness settled on your shoulders is gone as the man’s lips find the crown of your head. All the hard work, all the sleepless, worrisome nights led up to this moment—and you know you’d do it a thousand times over if given the chance to hear his euphoric words again.

#s — @etherealyoungk, @ylangelegy, @shinysobi, @heartepub, @junplusone, @fallminlove, @wheeboo. if you’d like to be notified when new releases drop, don’t hesitate to send in an ask! <3

[loafysainz]

DADDY DUTY | CS 55

carlos sainz x fem!reader

no warn

I got inspired by a request where Charles/Carlos gets sick, and their y/n takes care of them—but I made a version where Carlos takes care of his baby instead. Thanks for the idea, sender! 🤍

Carlos had just come home from a long, exhausting F1 season. The moment he stepped into their house late at night, all he wanted was to collapse into bed. But as he entered the bedroom, his gaze softened.

There she was—Y/N, peacefully sleeping, curled up under the blankets. The dim glow from the bedside lamp illuminated her face, making her look even more delicate. Carlos felt a tug at his heart. She looked tired. No, more than that—she looked exhausted. And of course, she would be. She was carrying their second child, and pregnancy had been tough on her.

Instead of getting ready for bed immediately, he knelt beside her, just watching for a moment. His fingers brushed against her cheek, gentle and slow, as if afraid he might wake her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then leaned in, pressing the softest kiss on her forehead. She didn’t stir, just let out a quiet sigh in her sleep. He smiled, a mix of love and guilt weighing on his chest. He had been away for too long.

After a few more seconds of just looking at her, he finally stood up and headed to the bathroom to shower. But even after cleaning up, he didn’t go to bed just yet. There was someone else he needed to see.

Carlos walked down the hall and pushed open the door to his daughter’s room. There she was, his little girl, fast asleep in her tiny bed, her long lashes resting against her chubby cheeks. She was three—almost four—but still his baby.

He crouched down and kissed her forehead, then her temple, then her cheek, unable to help himself. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake up.

“Te extrañé, princesa,” he whispered, running a hand through her soft hair.

With one last look at his daughter, he finally returned to the master bedroom, climbing into bed beside Y/N. He wrapped his arm around her, careful but firm, holding her close without pressing against her stomach. She let out another soft sigh, unconsciously shifting closer to him. Carlos let out a deep breath, finally feeling at home.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up first. She turned to see Carlos still fast asleep beside her. His face was relaxed, but the exhaustion was evident—dark circles under his eyes, the slight furrow in his brow even in sleep. Her heart ached a little. He had been running on fumes, and now that he was home, he finally allowed himself to rest.

Not wanting to disturb him, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Carlos stirred slightly, but instead of waking up fully, his arm tightened around her waist. His voice was raspy when he mumbled, “Stay a little longer. Still wanna cuddle.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh. He sounded so clingy, so unlike the Carlos the world saw. “I need to make breakfast,” she whispered. “our daughter will be wake up soon.”

Carlos groaned but didn’t let go. “Five more minutes. Please?” His voice was still thick with sleep, and he was being so dramatic about it.

Y/N sighed but smiled. “Fine. But just five.”

He hummed in approval, but before letting her go, he tapped his lips—a silent request. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully but leaned in, pressing another soft kiss against his lips. Only then did he loosen his hold, allowing her to slip out of bed.

But just as she stepped out of the room, a loud wail pierced through the quiet house.

Y/N’s heart dropped. That was their daughter.

She hurried down the hall and into her daughter’s room. The little girl was sitting up in bed, face scrunched up as she sobbed. Y/N’s concern deepened when she pressed a hand against her forehead—warm.

“Oh, baby,” she murmured, stroking her daughter’s back. “What’s wrong? Does something hurt?”

Her daughter only cried harder, arms reaching up. “Mommy… I want a hug…”

Y/N’s heart twisted. But she couldn’t. Not while she was pregnant.

“Baby,” she said softly, rubbing circles on her daughter’s back. “Mommy can’t hug you right now, There’s a baby in Mommy’s tummy. But how about I hold you in my lap instead? Will that be okay?”

But the little girl just wailed louder, her tiny fists gripping Y/N’s shirt. Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes, hating that she couldn’t give her baby what she wanted.

The noise must have woken Carlos, because within seconds, he was at the door, hair a mess, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was alert despite just waking up.

Y/N looked up at him, concern written all over her face. “She’s got a fever. And she wants to be carried, but I can’t…”

Carlos immediately crouched beside them, his hand brushing over their daughter’s forehead. He clicked his tongue. “You’re burning up, princesa.”

Their daughter sniffled but shook her head when Carlos reached out. “No… want Mommy…”

Carlos let out a small sigh, but instead of getting frustrated, he softened. “I know, sweetheart. But Mommy has to be careful with the baby, remember? How about Daddy carries you instead?”

The little girl whined, hesitating, still clutching onto Y/N. Carlos pressed a kiss to her temple, whispering, “Come on, just for a little bit? Mommy will still be here, I promise.”

After a few more sniffles, she finally relented, reaching for Carlos instead. He lifted her easily, cradling her close. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, rubbing slow circles on her back. “You scared Daddy for a second there.”

She buried her face in his neck, still sniffling. Carlos rocked her gently before looking at Y/N. “I’ll take care of her. You go rest.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, I’ll get the thermometer and some fever patches.”

Carlos didn’t argue. He just kissed the top of her head. “Okay. But after that, you rest.”

Y/N gave him a knowing look but smiled before heading off. Meanwhile, Carlos sat on the bed, still rocking their daughter gently, whispering soothing words.

[jarofstyles]

I don’t know if you’d want to write this but I’ve been reading some stuff with primal play and I feel like you’d do a good job with it! Or something with that vibe. Anything with that, I’d love to see!

Omg I’d love to do that! I’ll try and do something with Wolfrry and that at some point as a whole one shot but I’ve whipped up an enemies/lovers little thing for you. Thank you for the suggestion!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 230+ exclusive writings and series.

Warnings- primal play, cum play, edging, a bit of degrading, exhibitionism, Dom!Harry, finger sucking, daddy kink if you squint

————————

He had her where he had been waiting to get her. Pretty, perky, perfect Y/N knelt on the floor, the filthy bathroom floor of the club, looking like the slut she was- the girl he had been chasing for months now, being met with resistance, a cat and mouse game that made him want her even more.

Her hair was a mess from his fingers, her face flushed, and her lips swollen from kissing, the unusual unkempt appearance making his cock throb. It was obvious she had her hair done tonight, perfectly pin straight and pretty as it had flowed over her shoulder- now ruined from his hands. He took it as a stroke to the ego, making the only girl he ever knew to be so put together into a disheveled mess.

He’d gotten her where they both knew she wanted to be, holding one of his digits in her mouth, sucking gently as she gazed up at him with wide, adoring eyes, mouth hot and her tongue unbelievably soft as she ran it over the underside of the digit. Brushing over the ring at his knuckle even as she pulled back to the tip, he watched her clenched hands squeeze together as they rested on her thighs, waiting for her next command.

This sweet little thing sullying herself by sucking his finger like it was his cock, showing him exactly what he could expect, it only spurred him on. The impatience was starting to show by the minute, just letting her do this. Watching her get more and more desperate. Her tongue swirled around the digit, teasing the tip before taking it deeper, mimicking what he really needed around his dick. “D’you want something, baby?” He feigned innocence as his other hand palmed over his cock through his pants. “Hm?”

He chuckled darkly as she let out a hum. Still stubborn. Slowly, he withdrew his finger, letting it out with an obscene pop from between her swollen lips. Her eyes fluttered as she gazed up at him, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his fingertip that he promptly wiped over her perfectly made up cheek. "Tell me what you want, angel. Use your words. Thought you were running your mouth tonight about how you can’t stand me, and now y’can’t even pull your mouth off my fingers t’tell me what you want?" His voice low and teasing. The hand palming his cock squeezed gently as he waited for her request, knowing damn well what she craved.

“I..” She didn’t want to admit it. Harry won this game most of the time, but he had her in the sweet spot. Incredibly horny and desperate for approval. This was always the hardest part of it. Getting past her pride. Somehow, she always gave in. “I want to suck you off. Please.”

A wicked grin spread across his face at her words, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. It was one of his favorite parts, watching her unravel like she hadn’t been scoffing at him earlier. Like he didn’t know she’d end up on her knees saying ‘please, Daddy’ while begging for his cock. They both knew how this went. It was just a question as to who would break first every time they saw each other. How long it would take for him to catch her.

He unzipped his pants slowly, revealing his cock. Y/N hated how much she loved it, how thick it was, how obvious it was that their back and forth and the thrill of the chase had the tip ruddy and wet. He was leaking and she had been the one to do it. There wasn’t an ounce of embarrassment on his face as he took it into his hand, stepping closer to her kneeling form. "Come here then. Show me how badly you want it." He gripped his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched her with a hungry gaze. "Pout those pretty lips like you did before. I want t’see that again."

She did as he asked, letting her bottom lip poke out as she looked up at him in slight confusion- before he brought the tip over to her mouth. “Keep that pout.” He instructed when she went to open it, gripping her hair in his fingers as he dragged the tip over her bottom lip. Tracing over each one, he let out a soft hum as he painted her lips with his own arousal, watching his precum slick over her lower lip. Repeating the process again, he watched her lips glisten in the shitty light of the stall. Somehow, he hadn’t seen anything better in his life- Her pouted lips, glossy with the evidence of how much she worked him up.

“There we go. Made me so hard, looking the way you do. Y’look so pretty on your knees for me, but I think you needed that touch up.” Rubbing the top back and forth over the seam of her lips, he let out a groan as she pursed them. “Think you like it too. Filthy little thing. Pretending y’havent been gagging for it.. Runnin’ from me like we both don’t know you’re gonna get caught and you’re gonna get on your knees or bend over f’me after you talk all that shit to your friends about what an asshole I am… Leading me to places you shouldn’t be just to get a taste.”

She clenched her thighs together unconsciously, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between them- the one he always put there. When he finally pulled away, she couldn't help but lick her lips, tasting the trace him. Her eyes lulled as the salty-sweet flavor hit her tongue, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her. Her gaze darted up to meet his, embarrassment and arousal warring in her expression- smugness on his own.

She hated how much she loved it.

“Yeah, I know.” He cooed. “Y’love to taste me. Daddy’s good little whore.” Her expression turned to confusion as he slipped himself back in his trousers, zipping them back up. She was ready and on the floor, hands on her knees- and he was putting it away?

Harry caught the look, a patronizing smile on his face as he reached down to cup her chin. “What? Did you think you could run ‘round, acting like a brat this whole time n’I was just going to give you what you want?” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. Giving her chin a squeeze he motioned for her to get back up on her shaky feet.

“Not getting an inch of my cock in here. You’re goin’ to go back out there with all your little friends, act like you weren’t jus’ on your knees on this filthy bathroom floor for me.. Complain about me watching you like it doesn’t make that cunt soak whatever panties you’ve got on. S’alright, baby. I know the drill.” Squeezing her cheeks, he watched her face morph into irritation despite his grip. Just how he wanted her. “All you’re getting is the taste of me on that smart mouth. When you’re done, meet me in the hallway. If I get a lick of attitude from you, you aren’t getting anything else.”

[scarlet-bee]

[Plain text:

please help a disabled lesbian take care of her infant niece (urgent)

please help me. please. i’m only one person, i can only take so much before i lose it. it's been one thing after another after another and i'm at my wit's end. i can't do this alone

in the last month: my grandma passed away, our family dog passed away, my hydradenditis has flared up under my arms and my chest, and the icing on the cake is my sister is in jail and i’ve been tasked with taking care of my niece until she gets out. i have no clue when that will be, her next court date is the 17th. and this is all on top of the hell i’ve been going through the last year

i can’t even afford to feed myself or buy my medicine or pay my bills, let alone afford to take care of an infant who completely relies on me. i don’t even care if i have food or insulin at this point, please please help me take care of my niece. she’s going to need diapers and wipes very soon and she has food for now but will need more within the next two weeks? i’m not sure, i’m not equipped to deal with this but i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that she is taken care of

i take art commissions, the turnaround time is obviously going to be slow right now but i’m more than happy to complete any requests, the link can be found below. if you’re not interested in art but still want to help, please consider sending a few dollars my way – every little bit helps more than you even know

Please boost this.

commissions post

p-yp-l

c-sh-pp

k-fi

monthly update:

my sister’s court dates have finally concluded; she’s being held in jail for four and a half months with time served counting towards her time on the shelf, so she’ll be released in late april if everything goes smoothly. 

i’m still the sole caretaker of my niece. she just had her first birthday! she’s crawling like crazy and learning to walk while holding my fingers. she loves mac and cheese, and she hates carrots. she’s been sleeping a little better at night, although she still wakes up crying a couple times a week.

i hope i’m doing a good job of taking care of her, but i’m only one person, and i can’t even afford to take care of myself. my pain levels are never below a six, and i’m still living in this abusive household where i’m expected to play cinderella and be the caretaker for my niece.

i’m a multiply disabled unemployed person with no source of income – i am completely relying on the generosity of others to survive. if anyone wants to help support me, you can find my links below. if you can’t help monetarily, please spread this post to get the word out, i would appreciate it so so much. thank you for reading!

commissions post

p-yp-l

c-sh-pp

k-fi

End plain text.]

please help a disabled lesbian take care of her infant niece (URGENT)

please help me. please. i’m only one person, i can only take so much before i lose it. it's been one thing after another after another and i'm at my wit's end. i can't do this alone

in the last month: my grandma passed away, our family dog passed away, my hydradenditis has flared up under my arms and my chest, and the icing on the cake is my sister is in jail and i’ve been tasked with taking care of my niece until she gets out. i have no clue when that will be, her next court date is the 17th. and this is all on top of the hell i’ve been going through the last year

i can’t even afford to feed myself or buy my medicine or pay my bills, let alone afford to take care of an infant who completely relies on me. i don’t even care if i have food or insulin at this point, please PLEASE help me take care of my niece. she’s going to need diapers and wipes very soon and she has food for now but will need more within the next two weeks? i’m not sure, i’m not equipped to deal with this but i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that she is taken care of

i take art commissions, the turnaround time is obviously going to be slow right now but i’m more than happy to complete any requests, the link can be found below. if you’re not interested in art but still want to help, please consider sending a few dollars my way – every little bit helps more than you even know

PLEASE BOOST THIS.

commissions post p-yp-l c-sh-pp k-fi

[limethefirst]

Hello! I have a request for movie shadow if your alright with it? Can we have one where maybe shadow saved the reader at gun when he escaped and after he visited the base he kept Maria's skates perhaps and then as he trusts the reader cleans them up and give them to them on the crab?🥹. Showing them how to use them and the two end up bonding even more over it, shadow in his head promising to protect them after and not let what happened to Maria happen to them. This just sounds so flipping cute I hope this request I'd okay. Thank youuuu🥰.

Skating Friends

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: none

summary: After Shadow saves you from GUN during his escape he takes you along with him to visit the old base, stumbling upon a pair of skates he hadn't seen in a long time

a/n: did yall miss me, sorry i have so many requests this is gonna take me some time...i also want to drop a new story sometime maybe a DC one if life permits me, anyway sorry the requests take forever here you go see you all next time, tysm for keeping my blog relevant <3

Shadow didn't know why he brought you with him, he isn't the type to get close to people, at least not anymore. Yet here he was, walking through the old base, the lab, his home. Well, before it became a ruble of dust and broken pipes that gathered dust.

When Shadow first met you, he was shocked. You were being held at GUN against your will, trapped just like he was, it was part of the reason he kept you so close now. It was like he saw himself in you. Just some scared thing that had no choice in your own life, a slave to responsibility and ever droning duty.

You kept a safe distance between you and the hedgehog, he was solitary and it was easy to tell. He was slow as he walked through the dark and dusty corridor, like he wasn't all there. His min was else where, no matter how much he'd wish it wasn't. It was better to stay quiet when he was like this anyway.

Suddenly he stopped, his gaze was unwavering as he looked towards a pile of rocks that leaned against the cold wall. Quickly he made his way over, he was looking at something in the mess but you couldn't tell what yet. Quietly you moved a bit closer to him, following his line of sight until it landed on a pair of skates.

They were dirty and old. Like they'd been left behind, you gave Shadow a small look before putting your attention back on the skate he'd picked up. His brows furrowed as he held it in his hands, his gloved hands slightly tensing as he looked at the skates. A small huff escaped his lips as he put the skate back down and continued walking.

You stood there for a bit longer, watching as he walked off. A curious expression gracing your face. You didn't know exactly what Shadow went through, you'd heard bits and pieces, but it was easy to tell these skates meant something to him. As he was distracted you grabbed the skates on the ground, and shoved them into the small bag you had slung across your shoulders and quickly made your way back over to him. Following him again through the base.

As the day passed Shadow met with Gerald, a man who you came to learn was someone Shadow seemed to share deep rooted trauma with, and apparently that man had a grandson who was considerably just as intelligent as him. Both men as well as Shadow all made a plan to infiltrate GUN HQ and steal the keycard to an old plan that Gerald had some up.

Shadow not wanting to leave you behind, gestured for you to follow. So now here you were, onboard a strange crab like plane with 3 older men who seemed to have some strange thing going on and the resident hedgehog who kept to himself.

While you waited you went over to a quieter part of the Crab that would leave you unnoticed by everyone. Slowly you took out the skates that were still in your bag; you let out a small hum as you examined them. They were very old and very dirty, it even looked like they had stains but that just made you determined. This was going to be a long trip anyway might as well find something to do.

So while you all flew to London, you'd decided to try and refurbish the old skates. Sitting down in the corner you began to try and brush some of the dirt and dust away, clearly that didn't do much. So you quickly got up and grabbed some paper towels near the kitchen area of the Crab, dampening them slightly so that you could clean up the skates. You felt your arm getting sore from all the scrubbing that you had to do just to get all the gunk off.

The skates looked slightly better, you could actually see the color now. Blue, they were blue. Whoever owned them before had taste. You looked at the wheels, also cleaning them and taking out anything that would disrupt the skating process.

Shadow, noticing the lack of your presence behind him, turned around and tried to find where you'd gone before his eyes landed on a familiar sight. He's eyes scanned the skates, he noticed you trying to clean them. Unable to look away he made his way over to you in quick strides. You looked up at him and smiled at the hedgehog, one skate in your hand and the other still dirty on the ground.

He let out a small huff at the sight, it was oddly endearing, but it also brought back slight pain. Without hesitation Shadow grabbed the skate off the ground and from your hand before walking off without explanation. You sat there, mouth agape as he just grabbed the skates away from you.

Quickly you stood up, following behind him, "What are you doing?" You asked, trying to get a look of what he was doing with the skates.

"Here," he grumbled as he handed them back to you. They were clean, and the wheels turned fine, he had fixed them, "Put them on." He stated, leaving you no room to decline. Sitting down you took off your shoes and slipped the skates on, they fit well considering their age.

Shadow grabbed your arm, and helped you to your feet. He looked at the skates before looking back at you, "Keep them safe," although he tried to keep a cool demeanor it was easy to tell his voice softened as he addressed you about the skates. Clearly they held a lot of sentimental value for him yet he trusted you enough to have them.

"I can't skate, Shadow.." You stumbled a bit as you stood up, trying to keep your balance. He took notice of this and kept a safe distance as a way of making sure if you fell he'd help.

He thought for a moment before speaking up again, "I can show you then" He walked back slightly before he started to glide around a bit. His shoes seemed to have some type of wheels on them. Your eyes widened at this sudden revelation, not realizing he had his own skates this whole time. A subtle smile found it's way onto your lips before you tried to skate towards him, flailing your arms slightly to keep your balance. Shadow sighed at the sight, realizing he had his work cut out for him but you guys had a good amount of time before you reached London, which meant he could teach you.

Stone turned around from enviously watching the Robotnik's to look over at you two, his ears perking up at the sound of laughter that seemed to escape you. Shadow wouldn't admit that he was enjoying this, but then again he didn't need to. There was a small underlying understanding between you two.

And that was just fine.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Ain't That a Kick in the Head

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Nudity but in a totally non-sexual way (you share a bath)

Summary: You watch Clayton take a puck to the face, suffice to say you are very much worried for your boyfriend at the end of the game.

Notes: Y'know someone needs to psychoanalyse why I thought it was so hot that he took a puck to the face, got 12 stitches, came out, played and still scored? Someone want to explain that one to me?

I've not written Clayton before but @wannabehockeygf has me hooked so...I hope this is okay?

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"...that one up high caught Keller, let's hope Clayton is okay...he took that one right up in the face and he's headed to the room for some stitches I would imagine..."

"Keller's girlfriend has stood straight up from her seat, clearly not happy with what she's seen."

"Can you blame her? Keller's just taken a puck straight to the face and I imagine he's going to have more than a couple of stitches to fix that..."

It's an instinctive reaction really, to jump out of your seat at the way the puck soars into Clayton's face, the way he spins and falls to the ice. The blood that you can see pooling underneath his hand as he holds it tight to his eye and brow.

You've seen him get hurt before, seen him take hits to the boards, hits from other players, pucks to the ribs, sticks to the legs, but this...fuck, this was dangerous, this was scary. You're thankful for your seat overlooking the tunnel, thankful that you can reach a hand down as he makes his way off the ice, that even as he clutches a towel to his face to mop up the blood and try to stem the bleeding, he sees you, and reaches out briefly to touch your fingers, an attempt to reassure you that he's okay. That he'll be fine because fuck he knows you're probably freaking out about it.

Then all you can do is sit back down in your seat and wait. Waiting for him to come back out made you feel sick, stomach tied in knots, leg bouncing up and down in anxious impatience. Was he concussed? Was he in need of hospital? Or would it just be a few stitches to stop the bleeding? Had it done any serious damage to his skull? Was he actually okay? Was it just a flesh wound or something deeper?

It was taking too long, far too long, your eyes not even on the game, but on the tunnel waiting for him to reappear, watching people come and go back and forth each one not Clayton. Still you waited for that reappearance.

And reappear he did. Brow coated in blood, 12 stitches holding his face together, swollen, bruising planning it's spots as he stops at your section, looking up at you from the tunnel as you look down.

Your hand reaches out again and this time he holds it properly, fingers intertwining with yours to give your palm a tight squeeze, his ring digging into your skin slightly from how firmly he grips you. Like he needs to reassure you he's still strong, still good even as a blood drip starts to slide from the fresh stitches towards his eye.

"I'm okay, sweet girl," His voice is rough from overuse on the ice and he doesn't linger long, but it's enough to reassure you that he's at least fine, even if his face looks like he's been through the wars.

It's enough for you in that moment, enough for you to let his hand go, to watch him make his way to the bench even as that sick feeling still permeates your gut.

You spend the entirety of the second period watching him like a hawk, assessing to see if he should actually be out on the ice or not, relieved to see him skating well, stable, sturdy. Despite the physical wound he doesn't seem unwell and that is enough to settle you down a little, enough for you to start to enjoy the third period.

An enjoyment that is made 10 times better by Clay's empty net goal firmly confirming Utah's victory over the Winnipeg Jets. The moment the period is over and the players have left the ice you don't waste much time before making your way down to the locker rooms, leaning against the wall and waiting for Clayton to clean up and change.

He's out last, Kess stops to tell you he's just getting some of his stitches redone, and while you appreciate the heads up from the taller man it actually only serves to make you more anxious to see your boyfriend.

When he walks out he looks like he's been through the wars or been mugged badly or had a bad boxing match. New stitches means no quick shower, no water on them for at least a day and he still looks bloody, sweaty and definitely not okay. You can't imagine how uncomfortable he was putting his suit back on when he couldn't even have a proper wash, sweat causing his clothes to stick to his skin. Clayton's always been a stickler for cleanliness and you know he probably feels disgusting, probably hates it almost as much as the injury itself.

"Shit, Clay..." You gasp at seeing his face up close, his eye is bruising into a proper shiner, closing a little from all the swelling that's happening. The skin around starting to go a deep purple. There's an array of angry stitches holding his skin together, 12 to be exact, lined up neatly but clearly the only thing stopping more blood from falling down his face. They've clearly tried to clean as much of the old blood up as possible, but there's still enough left over that he looks rough around the edges.

"Right in the money maker, huh? It's okay if you think I'm ugly now, baby.." He's joking around as he steps into your space, trying to take that god awful look off your face. You look like you've seen a ghost, like you might be sick.

"Clay..." You reach for him as he leans over you, one arm leaning against the wall by your head, while your own hands cup his cheeks tilting his head so you can get a better look at his stitches.

"Sorry, sorry, just tryin' to get my girl to smile s'all..."

"I know..." He lets you get your fill, moving his head in whatever direction you tilt it while his free hand grips your hip. He wants you to believe he's fine but he knows you won't believe him, and in truth it fucking hurts taking a puck to the face. He's surprised he doesn't have a concussion. He feels a little sick, very gross and his face aches like nothing else.

"Clay...What do you need?" You, he thinks, just this. Just the soft way your thumbs brush his cheeks and tenderness with which you cradle his face, like he's not 170lbs of hockey player. He's not delicate and he knows that, you know that, but sometimes you treat him that way and it's nice sometimes. Nice to feel cared for.

He doesn't say any of that though, instead lets out a big sigh, "I need to go home, wash at least my body because I actually feel fucking gross..." He's still sweaty and he knows he needs help washing his hair without getting water on his stitches.

"Okay, I'm driving." You're reaching for his keys in pocket as quick as a whip, but he's quicker. Clayton's hand wrapping entirely around your wrist and stopping it from delving further into his pocket.

"You're not driving my car, baby. No." There's no amount of injury that could bring him to let you drive when that's his job and the grin he gives you is the sort you give a child who thinks they know better. It makes your eyes narrow.

"Clay, you took a puck going like 80 miles per hour to the face..."

"And I can still drive, and you are still and forever my passenger princess." It's not that he doesn't trust you to drive. You're a pretty decent driver, but that's not the dynamic you have. He drives you around. Always. If he can't then you drive yourself, but if both of you are in a car together? He's driving and you get to sit, relax and look pretty.

"You're impossible." You roll your eyes but concede defeat, pulling your hand from his pocket even as he continues to grip your wrist like now that he's got it the thought of letting go is preposterous.

"Impossibly handsome." Clay's hand moves from your wrist to slip into your own, fingers twisting together as he pulls away from the wall with you. His other hand tossing his car keys about with a jingling sound.

"Impossible hard headed."

"Ouch, that hurts, sweet girl." He finally gets a smile from you at that and that's all he wants as the two of you walk hand in hand to his car. If he's got to deal with stitches, bruising, swelling, then at least he gets to see you smile.

"Did it hurt more than the puck you took to the face tonight?"

"You're determined to not let me forget this aren't you?" He asks as he opens the passenger side door, watching you slip into the pristine seats because he'd be damned if he ever let his car fall into disarray.

You're quiet for a few moments as he leans over you to pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it into place. It's the proximity of him to you that's probably the only reason he actually hears your next whispered words as you look at your hands in your lap.

"...I was really worried, Clay..."

Clayton sighs heavily, large hand cupping your cheek until you look at him. You grip his wrist, fingers playing with the array of bracelets he always has there.

"I know, baby, but I'm okay. I promise. Got some stitches, no concussion, I'll be a little ugly for a bit but..." All Clay ever wants is for you to be happy, the worst part about getting hurt is that he knows you're stressing about. He's fine, but he knows he looks like he's gone 10 rounds with Mike Tyson and he'll probably look like that for awhile. He also knows you worry, and you'll worry over him until he looks completely back to normal.

"You could never be ugly," He smiles at the way you frown at him, like it's the worst thing he could do right now to insult himself, "You're just fishing for compliments." Your eyes soften under his smile and the frown loses some of its bite.

"You're the one biting, sweet girl."

"Shut up and drive us home."

"As you wish." Clayton presses a quick kiss to your lips, pulling out of the passenger side and closing the door on you. He's quick to make his way round to the driver's side and even quicker to get the car started so he can start driving back to the house.

You watch him the whole time, eyes fliting from the stitches in his eyebrow to the way his left eye is swelling to the point you don't know if he'll be able to see out of it in a minute if you don't get ice on it. Clayton chooses to ignore the staring, hand reaching out to rest on your thigh, rubbing warm strokes across it as he drives, like always.

When you pull up you wait, like always, in your seat because Clay complains if he can't open the door for you and unbuckle your seatbelt. So you wait and let him do it, just as you let him wrap an arm around your shoulders and led you inside as if you're the one that needs the TLC and not him.

You only briefly watch him struggle out of the suit he'd worn to the game before stepping in to help. The medical team not letting him wash had meant his shirt and trousers stuck to him from all the sweat left on his skin, and the extra pair of hands was helpful as he shrugged off the button up he'd been wearing.

He lets you lead him into the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet seat and watching as you fuss around the bath tub. You're running him a bath even though you know he prefers showers because there's no way those stitches are staying dry in the shower, not with his ridiculous need for the most intense waterfall shower on earth.

Still, Clayton watches as you try to make the bath more enticing. Copious amounts of bubble bath, the sort that's designed for sore muscles, being thrown in, water running warm, but not too hot because he doesn't like his bath water to be as hot as the fires of hell. Unlike you. But, he draws the line at you helping him into water, it's his face that hurts not his legs, shrugging your hands away with an eyeroll when you go to reach to help him.

"I can get in on my own, baby."

He doesn't let the fussing annoying him because he knows you fuss out of concern and that any amount of fussing is still your attention on him. Fussing means you love him and if you took a puck to the face he knows he'd be fussing over you too.

You watch as Clayton eases himself into the water, a sigh rippling out from him as he slides into the warmth. His chains hitting the water because he'd never wear anything that wasn't solid enough not to tarnish over time, expensive taste as always. You watch the way he closes his eyes and just relaxes for a minute, skin turning slightly flush under the warmth of the water, neck pulled taut as his head tips back.

"You want me to help wash your hair?"

"Please, baby." It's sighed out, eyes still closed and you kneel next to the tub without a second thought, urging him to move forward and lean back until his hair touches the water.

You're careful about it, slowly wetting his hair, trying to avoid getting water on his stitches and while he might not want to be fussed over, this though? This Clayton can't help but love. The way your fingers thread through his brunet strands, how you stop occasionally to scratch at his scalp, the feeling of sweat and grime falling away? This is pretty much heaven.

You huff a laugh when Clayton groans a little while you massage shampoo into his roots. The pressure you apply making him sigh and groan like you're relieving knots in his back and it's sweet, how he can relax into this, into you, when he's normally the one giving and doesn't necessarily prefer to receive the care.

"You good, Clay?"

"Mmmm...." He hums and you smile down at him, the way he leans back into your hands, how his eyes remain closed, the content little smile on his face that just slightly shows his teeth.

You take extra care as you rinse the shampoo from his hair thoroughly, avoiding his stitches and his eyes as you do so, before getting him to sit up a little so you can place some conditioner on the ends.

"Get in with me..." His eyes are heavy lidded, like he doesn't quite have the energy to open them the entire way, a wet hand reaching out to grip your fingers, tugging lightly.

"Clay, there's barely any room left." His legs take up half the tub, you're a little concerned that you plus water displacement will result in water all over the floor of the bathroom. Another injury waiting to happen when one of you inevitably slips on wet tile.

"Please, just want to hold you for a bit, no funny business, sweet girl, promise." His cheeky little smirk that shows the dimples on one side of his mouth doesn't exactly fill you with confidence in his words, but the water is still warm and there's something always enticing about Clay, he has a way of convincing you to do something even if you shouldn't.

"Mmm, sounds likely..."

"Seriously, just want to hold you...I'm an injured man..." He pulls the guilt trip card, biting on his bottom lip. Something which would have looked sexier if half his face wasn't swollen up like a balloon. Still, you've never been good at saying no to Clayton even if you probably should from time to time.

"Fine..." You sigh, pretending to be reluctant even as you strip your clothes off, ignoring the way his eyes light up like a kid in a candy store, and step into the bath water with him.

It's a little tight, the water rising to levels that are mildly concerning before the overflow drain does the job of removing the excess water. Your legs twine with Clayton's and his arms slide around your waist until he can pull you comfortably back to lay against him, your back to his chest. It's funny, how you can be completely naked and feel completely comfortable like this with someone, every little touch is comforting rather than sexual, every kiss to your shoulder an attempt to be connect to you rather than start something intimate.

"Clay?" You wince out, the sensation of metal digging into your back causing you to squirm slightly in his lap, water sloshing nearer to the sides of the tub.

"Mmm...?"

"Can...can you move your chains? They're digging into my shoulder."

"Shit, sorry, baby." He's quick to do so, the chains being thrown over his shoulder and out of the way until settling against him is more comfortable, the rise and fall of his chest meeting your back in a rhythm that helps any residual anxiety from the events of the day melt away.

"You comfy, sweet girl?" He presses a kiss to your temple and you smile into it, humming as you lean as much of your weight back into him as you can.

"Yeah, you?"

"Mmm, might have to stay here..." He's tracing circles on you tummy, a series of circles that meet in a variety of patterns that remind you of crop circles from all those conspiracy theory and unsolved mystery shows Clay likes to watch when he can't sleep. Every few seconds a kiss lands somewhere else, whether your temple, your cheek, your neck or your shoulder. Each is quick and soft, but no less delightful. It's all so soft, the world feels like its humming a little.

"The water'll get cold."

"Good thing I run warm..." He tries to argue with you, like always, a sassy little remark to entice you to stay in the moment even if neither of you can.

"Clay, we're not staying in here all night, we'll die of pneumonia or something."

"Would be worth it." He grins into your shoulder, eyes relaxing when you reach a hand back to scratch his scalp and play with his hair. He's tired, so fucking tired and his face still aches like a bitch but this is nice, this so nice.

"We should really get some ice on your face, try and take some of the swelling down."

"Do we have to?" The idea of putting ice on his face right now is anything but appealing, but he knows you're right. His face is already pretty swollen and bruised and it's only going to get worse if he doesn't look after it.

"Do you want to be able to see from your left eye in the morning?"

"Good point, just...5 more minutes, baby?"

"5 more minutes." You let him have his 5 more minutes and then some, using the time to get clean yourself and rinse conditioner from his hair before the two of you stand from the bath after the water has cooled significantly.

He's sat crossed legged on the bed in a cosy hoodie and boxers by the time you've put together a makeshift icepack, ice piled up into a ratty old tea towel you got when you first moved out.

The look he gives the icepack is nothing short of disdainful, a glare that's combined with a pout of his top lip like the icepack has personally offended him already when it hasn't even touched him. If anyone should glare it's you because your hands are getting cold.

"The only way that is touching my face is if you're sat in my lap, sweet girl." He pats his thighs like its a given, like you'll just go over and plonk yourself down without question.

"You already agreed to ice your face, Clayton John Keller." Your hands find your hips, a stance Clayton calls your mom stance and it's extra apt when you're using his full name like that. Not that that deters him from his goal of having you wrapped up on his lap because that's the only thing that might make ice to the face semi-bearable.

"Only if you sit in my lap."

"That is not the original agreement."

"Yeah, well, trade talks, deals get renegotiated all the time." He shrugs with a smirk, pulling out the dimples because he knows you struggle to be stubborn when he does that and as much as you hate it...he's fucking charming and it works. You're sighing and stomping over like you're not totally endeared by him, letting him pull you up and onto his lap without any real protest until your legs are wrapped around his waist, your butt sat perfectly in the hollow created by him sitting crisscrossed.

"You are incredibly difficult to care for, Mr Keller." You grumble as you cup his face with one hand and raise the makeshift icepack to his eye with the other.

"Can you really deny an injured man small comforts like his girlfriend in his lap?" His smirk only widens until it doesn't, a hiss leaving his lips at the way it pulls on his stitches as his eyebrow moves.

"Mmm, you're ridiculous." You're smiling when you say it and that alone lets Clayton know that you're enjoying this as much as him.

He hisses again when the cold finally touches his skin, almost jerking back but your hand on his cheek stops him from going very far. The icepack is cold, so fucking cold, and he knows you're going to force it to stay there until you're satisfied that some of the swelling has gone down. You're cruel like that.

Clayton's hands fall to your hips, fingers clenching and gripping onto you, not painfully, but firmly enough that you know he hates this, hates the sensation of ice on his skin even if there's a tea towel in between.

You try to make it as bearable as possible, pressing kisses to the right side of his face even as the left faces the terrible ordeal of icing. The kisses have Clayton humming, hands stroking from your hips to your waist and back down again in a rhythmic motion that brings back memories of every make out session you've ever had with the man, and that you wouldn't be having until you were certain his face wasn't swollen and bruised.

When you finally pull the icepack away his face is less swollen, eye still partially closed, but no less bruised, you know the purple is going to eventually fade to a horrible yellow. You throw the damp tea towel into the laundry basket from where you're sat, excellent aim that has you letting out a little cheer that gets Clayton smiling up at you.

"Thank you, sweet girl, always taking care of me..." He presses a kiss to your lips, short and sweet, only because you refuse to let him stay there too long, determined to let the man rest.

"Yeah, well, you're always taking care of me too."

[grandline-fics]

The quote "No, don't give me those puppy-dog eyes!" with Trafalgar Law and possibly with gn!reader? (If not, then afab!Reader is fine too!)

Thank you. ✨

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: “No! Don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes!”

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 750

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. I struggled a lot with coming up with a situation for Law and this prompt but I hope I was able to bring something together to your liking. Hope you all enjoy and thank you all for your support

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI

————————

“Law?” Law’s back went rigid at the sound of your voice drifting towards him. He knew that lilt, that almost innocent call, searching for him and the call a precursor to hear his response in order to gauge his mood before speaking what it was you truly wanted from him. To anyone else that would seem considerate, given how busy he was being both Captain and doctor for the ship. But to Law when he heard your call it set him on edge because he never knew what to expect. He heard the soft knock on his door and braced himself. Slowly he looked up just as your head poked into the doorway. Your bright gaze met his and you smiled. “Law? You busy?”

“I’m researching the island we’re heading to.” Law began carefully, watching as you came further into the room, letting the door shut behind you. He kept his eyes on you, taking in your soft smile and slow movements towards his desk. Lightly he cleared his throat and briefly tightened his hold on the book lying open in front of him, trying his best not to lose track of his work when you were around. “And after that I was to check on Bepo since he’s got the navigation charts.” You stopped at the side of his desk and nodded, lips pursing at his words. “What did you need?”

“Not need really but…” You began, reaching over to curl your finger around his hand that still held the book on the desk. At your touch Law immediately reciprocated by entwining his fingers with yours. He knew what was coming when you let out a small sigh before continuing. “If you weren’t busy I was wondering if I could get a hug?”

Law let out a small huff of amusement and got to his feet, his smile growing when you immediately closed the distance to wrap your arms around him, your body relaxing more when his arms pulled you closer. He knew he’d been busy lately and hated how his relationship with you had to be made less of a priority. The two of you only got to see each other at meals and at nighttime but in those moments you were both either surrounded by the rest of the crew or so tired you both barely got to give the other a goodnight kiss before immediately falling asleep. Now that he was holding you again, he was reluctant to pull away but he still had a lot more research to do. 

Squeezing you one more time and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, Law made a move to let you go and return to his desk only to stop when your arms tightened and you shook your head against his chest. Law all but kicked himself for not seeing this coming. One of you had to be strong, and unfortunately for him, it had to be his task. Gently Law rubbed your back and gently spoke your name only to sigh when you let out a grumble against him. “C’mon just another couple of hours and then I’m all yours. Okay?”

“Law?” He flinched at that same innocent tone and slowly looked down just as you peered up at him, unleashing the full power of your stare, compelling and fierce. 

“No! Don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes!” Law all but groaned down at you, unable to look away. How did you make your eyes shine like that in moments like these when you wanted your own way. Worse still he knew his resolve was crumbling faster and this was only going to go one way. 

“Please just a little longer?” You asked, attacking the final flimsy thread of Law’s restraint with your softly spoken request. “Five minutes and then I’ll let you work?” Law bit the inside of his mouth and cursed himself for being so weak for you. Immediately he used his shambles to take you both to the sofa in the room and pulled you close, unable to stop his own smile from growing when you beamed up at him happily before you got cosy in his arms. With a content sigh you nuzzled in close and absently wondered if you’d be able to stretch out this cuddle with your boyfriend a little longer than your previously requested five minutes. If any of the past times were anything to go by then yes, yes you could and you definitely would.

——————————————-

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

[auraisereigh]

"For Her, Always"

oneshot

Garrick Tavis x Riorson reader Request: Garrick x riorson little sister (she is a 2 year with Bohdi they are bff) they fell in love when they were little and now she is a rider but they hide what they feel to not upset Xaden, but the some guy flirts with her and we get MAD JELOUS Garrick and he hurts the guy on challenges, Xaden notices and they have a talk so then reader and Garrick can be together (Love confession Bridgerton style) wc: 6.8 ☆ no specific spoilers. Uses pronouns: she/her.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

If there was one thing about Garrick Travis then it was that he was attractive, always had been- even when he was younger. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel something for him. And maybe, just maybe, I would have said something by now if it wasn't for the fact that he's best friends with my brother.

Xaden.

He has enough on his mind. Adding to that is the last thing on my mind. Even if that means I'll have to keep my feelings to myself. Even if that means my heart will keep yearning for what I can't have. At least I can still stare at him. From a distance, in the practice room. It's better than nothing I suppose.

"You're staring." Bodhi muzes next to me. I shoot a small glare his way as I continue to wrap my hands for sparring. "Am not." I respond tense.

Second year is more difficult and stressfull than it seemed. RSC hanging over my head. Xaden has done his part in preparing me but that didn't make it less terrifying and seeing as it's unpredictable when leadership would come and get us, well, that just makes it worse.

Not that I have seen a lot of Xaden lately, he's been occupied with a certain Sorrengail.

That thought brings me back to where I am. Xaden is training the youngest Sorrengail on one of the mats in the corners, Garrick not far away from them as he practices with his sword.

And I'd hate to admit it but I am staring.

After I finish wrapping my hands I stand and pick up my daggers. They had always been my preferred weapon. Light but easy to use.

I go through my usual warm up routine. Swinging them around. It's all going smoothly until I hear a voice call out. "Looking good, beautiful."

I glance toward the voice, only to find Oren—the overconfident third-year with a cocky grin plastered on his face—walking toward me. He’s twirling his sword as if to show off, his steps relaxed.

“Your technique’s good, but I think you’re missing something,” he says, a smirk on his face.

I raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “And what would that be?” He shrugs, a look of mischief appears in his eyes. “A partner. You know, someone to make things more… interesting.” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe someone who can keep up with you.”

I roll my eyes and focus back on my daggers, spinning one lazily between my fingers. “I’m perfectly fine. Thanks though.” I reply sarcastic, focusing back on my daggers. In the corner of my eye i catch Garrick's gaze.

But Oren doesn’t back down. “Come on, beautiful. You’ve got moves, but I bet I could teach you a thing or two. Maybe over a Meal?” His grin widens. I shake off the shiver that runs through my spine. An uncomfortable look on my face.

"Back off Oren." Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension. "She's already got someone to spar with." Bodhi's voice is on the cold side, almost as sharp as my brother Xaden's.

I give Bodhi a grateful smile as Oren retreats a step, his hands up in surrender. The smirk on his face is still present and I can tell he's not finished. For now maybe. But not forever.

♤

I stand by the surrounding crowd. All our eyes are on the mat, at the fight that is happening. It's a good match-- the matches before this one were a little meh but this one is actually good, we might be onto something.

The match ends after the second year taps out. From the corner of my eye I can see Garrick talking to Emmeterio. Why would he talk to him?

"Next match. Seifert and Travis." Emmeterio announces and my heart jumpes in my throat. That can't be a coincidence can it? Garrick against Oren not even a day after the small incident in the sparring room.

I can feel Xaden's eyes on me but I don't turn to face him. My eyes are solely on Garrick as he takes his place on the mat. His face holds the sole emotion of anger.

Oren charges first but Garrick side steps him, around his attack. Oren tries again but Garrick takes a hold of his arm, twisting it and Oren let's out a groan.

I can see Garrick say something to Oren but it's too quiet for me to hear. Garrick starts twisting his arm at an unnatural angle. He puts his leg between Oren's and he falls backwards on the mat. I knew Garrick was a good fighter but he's really good.

Garrick easily straddles Oren, a dagger at his throat and I wouldn't wish the look upon Garricks face to anyone. Not even my worst enemy.

He moves his dagger slightly, enough to draw blood but not enough to seriously injure him. I hold my breath at the sight. There is no way Garrick would actually kill him right?

He presses the blad harder against Oren's neck. I hear the familiar tap against the mat, he taps out. I let out the breath I'd been holding, Garrick slowly gets off him. He takes a step backwards, his dagger still in his hand.

I also take a step back, most people in this room night not know what this means but some do. I can feel bodhi's and Xaden's eyes in my back, burning holes.

I can see Xaden follow Garrick out of the sparring room and I don't hesitate to follow. I follow them quietly until they stop in a dark alley.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Xaden snaps at Garrick. His voice full of authority. I stay hidden behind the wall.

"He was flirting with her last night." I hear Garrick argue, frustration laced in his tone. "I'm aware of that. I saw it to but she can defend herself." Xaden voice grows bored.

"You're telling me you don't care that an asshole was flirting with your sister?" The frustration in his voice grows harsher.

“Of course I care,” Xaden snaps. “But I trust her to handle it. You, however, handled it as though you were issuing a challenge. That’s not protecting her—it’s claiming her.”

Garrick falls silent for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the alley. “Maybe I am,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. My breath catches in my throat.

“You don’t get to do that unless you’re willing to back it up,” Xaden warns, his tone razor-sharp. “You don’t get to make her your responsibility unless she’s choosing you. So tell me, Garrick, what exactly are your intentions?”

There’s a long pause before Garrick speaks, but when he does, his voice is steady. “My intentions are to love her. To protect her. To be the one she can turn to for the rest of her life. If that’s claiming her, so be it. I’ve loved her for longer than I care to admit, and I’m done hiding it.”

I press my hand to my mouth, trying to contain the gasp that threatens to escape. Did he just say…?

“And what about her?” Xaden challenges. “Have you even thought about what she wants? Or is this just about you?”

“It’s about her,” Garrick snaps back. “It’s always been about her.” “Then maybe you should say something to her instead of throwing daggers at every man who looks her way,” Xaden retorts. “Because this whole display? It’s not going to win her over. Talk to her. And for both your sakes, stop making me the middleman.”

I hear footsteps retreating, the sound of Xaden walking away. My heart pounds as I realize I’m now alone with Garrick, hidden just around the corner.

I take a shaky breath, stepping out of the shadows. “You could’ve just asked me,” I say softly.

Garrick whirls around, his eyes wide with shock. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “Is it true? What you said?”

He looks away, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter—” “It does matter,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “Because I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself that what I feel for you is one-sided. That you could never see me as anything more than Xaden’s little sister. And now you’re telling me that you… that you’ve felt the same way?”

His gaze snaps to mine, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “You… you feel the same?”

I nod, my chest tightening as the words spill out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Garrick. But I thought you’d never… I thought it wasn’t possible.”

He takes a step toward me, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. “You have no idea how hard it’s been, keeping my distance. Watching you with Oren last night, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“And today?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “On the mat?” “I wanted him to know,” he admits, his thumb brushing against my skin. “That you’re not just some girl to flirt with. That you’re… everything to me.”

I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes as I lean into his touch. “Then stop keeping your distance,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s both fierce and tender, years of longing and unspoken words pouring into that one moment. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re my everything,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

I smile, my heart lighter than it’s ever been. “You’ve already done enough,” I whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you try.”

♤

[p5buecks]

grind on me

paige bueckers x oc

bathroom stall hook up

cw: smut

hi first smut post so i wanted to keep it pretty chill. let me know what you think and you can also send me requests!

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `

When the opening beat to Grind On Me by Pretty Ricky blasted through the club, there was only one person on my mind. My boyfriend; Caleb. This was our unofficial, official song. We met in a similar setting two years ago and as this exact song played, the brunette boy couldn’t take his eyes off me. As I danced and moved my body to the beat, Caleb watched intently before making his move.

I navigated through the crowd of sweaty, swaying bodies, eyes focused on my boyfriend who was stood with a group of his friends. I could feel myself grinning cheesily and there was no doubt, it was vodka induced. My vision had also significantly blurred since the beginning of the night and despite my steps being cautious and careful, I was still knocking into people. Without saying any words, I pressed my body against Calebs. I moved sensually, the way he liked it. My back pressed into his front and I waited for his hands to find my waist as they usually did but the familiar feeling never came. Instead I felt his flat palm press against my back before his voice muttered into my ear, “Chill, Selene.” I was tipsy and payed no mind and further pushed into Calab, ass directly in his crotch as as my hips moved to the beat.

“I said chill.” Calebs voice was deeper and more intense this time and paired with a slight shove, knocking me off balance, I couldn’t ignore him any longer. “What the fuck Caleb?” I spun around, coming face to face with my boyfriend. “You’re drunk and it’s embarrassing.” Calebs scolds, “You’ve never had a problem before.” I rebuttal, frowning while both hands rested on my hips. “Well, I have an image to keep up and people are looking, so chill.” Calebs eyes narrowed and I was taken aback, he never acted like this, I was caught off guard but I wasn’t about to back down. “I don’t give a damn if people are looking!” I flung my arms up in the air for dramatic effect and raised my voice several decibels higher. If people weren’t looking, they definitely are now.

Despite everyones eyes being on us having a domestic dispute in the middle of a busy club, Caleb had no problem reaching out for my face, holding me under my chin and squeezing my jaw, “Chill the fuck out or go home!” His tone was venomous and I sobered up quick before muttering a sharp ‘fine’ and hurrying away with tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

I barged my way to the bathrooms and locked myself in a stall before giving in and letting myself cry. The salty tears made my eyes sting and cheeks wet. I needed to go home.

“Pull yourself together.” I urged myself as I wiped my tear stained face, my makeup was ruined and as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I could only agree with my boyfriend. I was drunk and embarrassing. I was an embarrassment to him. I held my hands underneath the cold running water in a hope to ground myself and closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths, “He’s right.” I whispered.

“He’s a jerk.” A voice other than my own made me realise I was no longer alone in the bathroom and I flicked my eyes open. It took them a minute to adjust to the low lighting but the tall blonde at the door was crystal clear. Whoever she was, she was right. Caleb was a jerk but I wasn’t about to admit that to a total stranger.

I dried my hands, avoiding eye contact, just wanting to leave. “You good?” The blonde spoke again and this time she took a few steps further into the bathroom, closing the space between us. “I’m fine.” My response was short and quick and may have sounded rude, “I’m good. Thank you.” I corrected myself, shooting the girl a tight lipped smile and stepping around her. Our arms brushed each others and I was close enough for her scent to reach me. It was floral and sweet with hints of amber and vanilla. It made me stop in my tracks.

“You not allowed to have fun or sum?” She continued as I reached for the door handle. Everything told me to open the door and walk out. Go home, sober up and apologise profusely to Caleb in the morning but my body betrayed me. I let go of the door handle and turned back around to two artic blue eyes locked on me. Her pupils were dilated ever so slightly and she raised a brow as she awaited my answer.

“I guess not.” Was all I could muster and I leant against the basin. The cold marble cooling my heated skin. “Pretty girl like you should be having all the fun. Want me to go let him know?” Even though there was nothing funny about this situation and I could still taste my salty tears on my lips, I giggled, “It’s good. Don’t want you getting in trouble.” The blonde was now stood in front of me, our height difference glaringly obvious as I looked up at her. “What do you want?” There was a change in her tone, it was lower, more breathy and I suppressed a shiver. “To go home. Forgot about this mess of a night.” I tried my hardest to look away as I spoke, break the eye contact, relieve the tension that was quickly building but I couldn’t. Her hands weren’t on me but this girl had me in a chokehold.

“Forgetting is easy.” She said pushing loose curls off my face causing me to take a sharp intake of breath. Her hands were big but slender and cool against the warmth of my heated skin. “Yeah?” My voice came out croaky but I quickly cleared my throat, it was clear to me what was happening here and maybe I wasn’t thinking straight or maybe I was and just didn’t care but I was as game as she was. “Yeah. But if you need some help, just let me know.”

Two people in one stall was cramped to say the least but with my back pressed up against the wall and the blonde pressed up against me, any thoughts of this being wrong had exited my mind. She was everywhere. Her lips on my lips, then on my jaw, sloppy as they made their way down my neck before nipping at the skin on my chest. “No marks.” I breathed out and I got a chuckled response, “He don’t give a fuck baby.” And her hands that had found home on my hips tightened their grip.

Her knee was nestled perfectly between my legs, pressed firmly against my pulsating cunt and the firmer she pressed, the more I rolled my hips on her.

There were very few words spoken between us before her foot knocked mine apart and she pulled my panties to the side and pushed her fingers inside of me. Her pace was immediately fast and hard and her long fingers had no problem reaching that precise spot that made me gasp out loud. As quick as the sound tumbled from my parted lips, her hand came up to cover my mouth. She didn’t have to say anything for me to know that was a command for me to keep quiet.

She pounded in and out of me with no mercy, her hand having migrated from my mouth to my throat, squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. I was quickly losing control and was unable to stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head. I bit down on lip in an attempt to keep my breathy moans captive in my throat but it was pointless and as I whimpered in pleasure the blonde simply smirked at me, a small dimple revealing itself. “What would your boyfriend think if he knew some random had his girl moaning like this?” She asked cockily. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think of a reply. Hell, I couldn’t think of Caleb at all. Not while the wet sound of my arousal filled the small bathroom stall.

“Does he make you moan like this?” No. “Does he make you feel this good?” No. “Do I fuck you better than him?” Yes. But I wasn’t about to admit any of that to the girl I didn’t even know the name of. In an attempt to shut her up, I pressed my lips to hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth. Our tongues fought with each others. Sloppy and heated. I groaned into her mouth as her thumb rubbed soft, tight circles over my clit. “Fuck.” My voice was shaky as I pulled away and my legs almost buckled beneath me as my stomach flipped and contracted as I was worked to the edge. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The blue eyed girl mumbled as she held me firmly in place, against the wall.

With her hand no longer covering my mouth my sordid sounds were no longer being interrupted and my back arched off the wall as my body was overcome with pleasure. “Don’t stop.” I begged as I felt myself clench around the fingers buried inside of me. My skin prickled and my body twitched as I came undone. My head dropped to the taller girls chest and the guttural groan that I let out was damn right sinful.

Breathless and trembling, I whined as her fingers slipped out of me leaving me empty and dripping. I watched with hooded eyes as she took her slick fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of what I wanted to say but the moment was harshly interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open.

“Paige! We’re leaving!” I expected both of us to remain silent. Inconspicuous. But the girl in front of me called out back, “Give me two minutes.” At least she had a name now.

Paige fixed my skirt back into position after it had hiked up to my waist and she ran her thumb under my lip, no doubt wiping away smudged lipstick. “For the record, you can grind on me anytime.” And just as quick as she had made me cum, she left me stood alone, heart still racing from my climax.

“Unbelievable.” Whoever had called out for Paige was still in the bathroom so I remained hidden in the stall, “Give me a break, Azzi.” Paige replied and I was quickly met with silence as the two girls exited.

thank u for reading bbys, smooches!

[eeboyysworld]

Hello! Hope you're having a nice day. If you're taking requests, could i ask for Dae-Ho x male reader? Thank you! :)

“ I know you wanna kiss me-“

—⋆. 𐙚⋆.˚

Genre: Smut

Kang Dae-ho X Male!Reader

Cautions/Warnings: Praise kink, Enemies to (not) lovers, Teasing, Hair pulling, hand job, Dae-ho pops a boner and you’re the most decent person to help.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Pain swirled inside your ankle, a purple mark forming there. You just had to twist it , didn’t you.

the previous game left a huge mark on you, a large turning compartment in the middle of the room.

Mingle, that’s what it was called.

People fighting for their life’s, shoving and pushing innocent (or not) people into the ground, that includes you. Getting slammed to the hard ground froze you on the spot, the pain coming in waves.

You would had died. If it wasn’t for the man , whom you had bothered the past days of being in this hell hole, saved you.

Getting out of his own way to drag your limp body into the blood covered room.

Dae-ho, Cheery despite the situation, cracking jokes but remains serious when needed. You didn’t know him outside these games, but being divided into two groups, ‘x and o’ , you had no choice but to dislike them.

You voted to stay inside the games, the debt and reality of the outside world crashing down on you. It was stupid , voting for your own death.

You had every reason to thank him endlessly for giving you another chance at life, bowing towards him.

Despite the brawls the two of you got in, he shook the past aside , reassuring that ‘you would do the same for him.’

———

The bed you resided on was comfortable enough to rest on, the metal underneath the thin material digging into you.

The state your foot was left in wasn’t half bad , considering it had been a couple hours since then.

The bruise still contrast to your skin.

Rice mushing around your mouth, the flavour dull as you could taste the fork more than the food.

Swashing it down with a bottle of milk.

Your bottom became sore after sitting on it for the past hours , during the time passing you had been accept into this little group.

Diverse people combined into one alliance, to stop the games. The new faces marking a memory in your head.

A few of them offering their bread and milk towards you and another young girl.

Flustered under their gazes, smiling accepting the offer with a thanks.

Sluggishly nibbling the crust, zoning in and out of conversations. You tried your best to not get attached to them, dreadfully knowing sooner or later you’ll all die.

Despite the Traumatic scenes that unfolded Infront of all of you, one person lifted the mood.

The smiling marine kept making advances towards you, keeping you company.It was sweet, the two of you talking about the past and hopes for whatever future you could get.

Guilt crept at you, apologizing for the harm you caused.

“This place can make a person crazy.” Patting your upper thigh as he spoke,” I don’t blame you, we were on different sides only trying to survive.” His gaze felt heavy, lowering your own head, attention drifting to the ,used to be, white shoes.

“If I could..” stammering the words out,” In any way- I would repay you.” Your leg involuntary bouncing.

He paid no response, staring off into the distance, eyes glinting with uncertainty.

The silence between you guys hadn’t flatter, even with the voices and shouts in the background.

You guys sat like that until an announcement rang, lights dimming as the hallway lights shined through, casting a glow just enough to navigate.

Having the need to stay up, you accepted the challenge of fighting sleep to keep watch. Nestling yourself in between two bunk beds.

The night rolling on , countless snores and conversations could be heard.

An hour in of keeping guard, flinching when a hand slapped your shoulder, suddenly becoming aware of your surroundings.

Dramatically exhaling as the familiar face appeared before you. “Ah..you scared me.”

A nervous chuckle left him, slotting himself beside you. He felt off, energy leeching off of him.

You had notice the way he slumped, eyes twitching to get a glimpse of you, fingers digging into his pants.

Neither of you spoke, stealing ‘risky’ glances towards each other. It went on like that , before he finally got the courage to voice his thoughts.

“I .. have a problem..” concern adorned you, had he been hurt last game? , whispering your question.

Getting a shake of a head left you wondering what happened. “I was just thinking..you were the only one who could help.”

Biting his lip, gulping as he muttered.

Barely hearing it, kindly asking him to speak up a bit.

Locking his eyes onto you, “ It’s.. uhm-“ cutting himself off, licking his lips as a habit.

Letting the quietness settle before speaking, “ D-down..theree.” Dragging the ‘e’ to a halt.

Huh.. taking a peak downwards, curiosity getting the better of you. Eyes slightly widening, catching the bulge between his legs. Wow.

Now..what would a rational person do in this situation. Kindly turn down the offer. But you were not rational.

Turning your body to the side, bringing your gaze to his face, making eye contact.

It had suddenly become too hot in this place. Feeling your face tingling from his attention.

“Oh..” there was practically butterflies swooning inside you, he wants you to help him.

He was quick to apologize for making you uncomfortable, steadily getting up, bowing towards you. He knew he shouldn’t have asked..

But before he could get away , a hand grabbed onto his loose shirt, pulling the other closer to you.

The feeling of arousal pooling inside you, whispering so that no one but you two could hear.

“I would love to help you.” Was it the fact you pitted him for popping a boner out of all places, maybe , he was rather cute, a perfect face to be ruined by you.

He was shocked to say the least, trying to regain composure only to be pushed to the bed farthest away.

You kept on your feet , despite just recovering from the injury you endured,while he was seated.

Greedy hands exploring his body, flushed face inches away from you. He was so close to your lips he can feel your breath.

It was awkward in the moment, as he never was this close to you, he shyly thanked you for doing this for him.

You could only smile, the soft lights shining both of you, silhouettes dancing on the walls.

muttering , “I told you I would repay you..” eyes wandering across his face, noticing every detail you could drink up.

Becoming shy under such gaze, the other melted into the comfort of the bed.

Trailing your hands downwards, ruffling the stained tracksuit. Your body moving with your hands, dropping to your knees.

The soft thud bouncing off the arena, the rough floor digging into the your flesh.

He was like jelly under your touch, folding as skilled hands gripped his waist, every touch riling him up more.

Breathe fawning his clothed bulge, it was like you were examining him. He peered at you, mouth agape.

He nearly yelped as you lunged frontwards, throwing his palm to silence the sounds.

You sat there knees spread slightly aprat, mouthing the fabric, saliva seeping through the material, the warm wetness lubricating himself.

His other hand shakily made its way to your head, softly resting on the head of hair. You didn’t want it just sitting there.

Roughly grabbing his fingers to thread the locks, swapping your tongue out to cause a reaction out of him, the sensation made his fingers grip.

Muffled apologies hidden behind his palm, neck tense from how he contained himself.

You continued to torment the poor guy, keeping his junk in his pants. He was frustrated and sensitive to the touch.

Mouth kept working towards him, pants dark from the amount of spit on it, outlining his length.

He couldn’t even do anything about it, he couldn’t scream and beg you to touch him, that would end bad.

Left to squirm and whine in his seat.

After you felt decent about your work, pulling yourself away, admiring him.

“Try to be quiet, ay?” It was a statement, you couldn’t have him moaning into the air, not when you knew the other people now.

Shoving your hand into the tracksuit, slipping through the others boxers,

Feeling the pre-cum drip down along with your spit, creating the perfect natural lube.

Steadily dragging downwards and up, purring sweet nothings, “ Aw, hold on a little longer..” slipping up and down, fastening the pace. “You’re doing so good for me.”

Your words went straight to his head, not the one on-top his shoulders.

The hand he chose to mouth on had a red mark, the other settled into your locks of hair, tightening and letting loose.

Sounds of desperation could be heard if someone listened too intently.

It was too much , the soft padding of your hand left him a mess. You kept reducing the speed before fastening it up, the stimulation was overbearing.

Finger playing with his angry tip, the touch as light as a feather, yet it had him stuttering. “Mm- m-more..”

He was heavy in your hand, was practically throbbing.

“ You deserve it ..don’t you?” You were playing with him, watching the desperate head nods.

Continuing to stoke him, leading him to Chase his high , thrusting into your hand.

Bed ever so slightly squeaking with the weight of his body moving up and down.

You let him rut into you like a dog, his hair tie loosening up, hair pieces flowing out.

You let him rock his hips in your hold, only choosing to add pressure back and forth.

Dick twitching, incoherent words stammering into the air. “Please.. I’m so c-close..”

Taking pity, you began to move with him, lining the timing perfectly.

He basically humped your hand, gripping your hair , moving you along with him. Letting him to use your body.

His stomach held a pit that kept growing, throwing his head backwards, biting his hand to keep silent.

The body movement he made told you he was close, moving your hand the fastest you can, the sounds encouraging you onward.

He spoke your name like a prayer, face flushed with the amount of heat he felt, the urge to just say fuck it and throw you onto the bed.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wanna do that, despite all the people. Images flashed through him, he didn’t think he could imagine such things.

Your mouth on him as he fucked your face, he would be the one setting the pace, not you.

He could feel himself twitch.

Breathe ragged as he let himself spill into you, pulsing in your hand, body becoming limp in the hold.

Sitting there before slowly moving, long breaths leaving him.

The feeling of your hand leaving, taking the warmth with you. He whimpered from lost of contact like a kicked puppy.

Instead of wiping the evidence away, you decided to lick at it, swirling the liquid away into your warm mouth.

He was left agape , eyes focused on the way your tongue came out to lap it up, head tilted towards him, fluttering your eyes at him.

That’s one way to get rid of it.

The saltiness was bittersweet.

Latching off with a pop, moving to your feet, legs sore from sitting down. Guiding the other into you, lips finding his.

Nipping at him, slotting your tongue inside , letting the taste of bitterness sweep all over.

Moans vibrated through the both of you, hands finding what it can to ground into.

A shout had you yanking away, fearing you had hurt the other man.

“I didn’t see anything.” Slowly turning to the side, making eye contact you didn’t want to make with the most nonchalant man you ever met.

Greeting him with a ,”Good morning Young-il..”

You didn’t expect that scream to lead to that face.

———

I did not finish this when i said i would ❤️

[synvil]

if ur up for it maybe a smutty part 2 for the tiktok trend where reader doesnt say ily back? have a great day!!

say it back pt. 2 // bf! rafe cameron

a/n: my first request!! thank you anonnie! (☆´3｀) i hope you enjoy, even if it’s pretty short!

synopsis : rafe teaches you to think twice before playing a prank.

warnings : nsfw ahead! penetration, crying, spanking, cum swallowing, etc.

tiktok trends masterlist !

“screw that, i’ll spend the next couple hours pounding those three words into your damn mind so you won’t ‘forget’ again.”

“w-wai—“ ignoring your protests, you gasp when he suddenly brings his hands down to the waistband of your bottoms and rips them down your legs without hesitation. “rafe!”

rafe unbuckles his belt and lowers his slacks just low enough to let his already hardening erection spring free. at the sight of you backing up, trying to appease him by raising your hands defensively and explaining, rafe growls low and grips onto your ankle and drags you down the edge of the couch before flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips so your ass hung in the air.

and that’s how you spent the next hour, your face a teary, drooling mess as your cry out endlessly, your arms behind your back, wrists pinned together by rafe’s hand as he pounds into your pretty little pussy mercilessly, his other hand recording the sight.

“great, barry’s callin’. how should i explain to him for my absence, hm?” rafe condescendingly smirks as he waves his phone in your direction. “should i answer the call and let him hear the reason why?”

your breathing is ragged but you slur a weak, whimpered no, pleading for him to deny the call. “r-rafey.. ‘m sorry! please-“

rafe grunts, unamused at your apology as he tosses the phone onto the cushion beside your head, the device still vibrating due to barry’s calling. “too late. should’ve thought about the consequences, sweetheart.” rafe mocks, his hand delivering a sweet sounding smack across your cheeks as he thrust his hips deep against yours, making you moan loudly, your body trembling from the nth orgasm in the last hour.

rafe could feel his climax approaching, his own breathing becoming heavier as he groans out, feeling his hips pick up the pace.

“do you remember what you say to me, now?” you’re too exhausted and a blubbering sobbing mess, breasts and body shaking with every thrust he gives to register his words. upon no answer, rafe spanks you again making you cry out and jump. “i asked you a question, darling.”

“y-yes; i remember!”

rafe squeezes the flesh in his hand and he grins. “you gonna play that little joke on me again?”

“n-no, i promise- i won’t ever again.”

taking your words as genuine, rafe suddenly pulls out and pulls on your body to bring you to the ground and guides your head to his throbbing cock. “prove it. be a good girl and do your job.”

understanding what he needed, you fall to your knees and bring your lips to his tip and lick it, before fully wrapping your mouth around him and rafe hitches a breath.

his hand jerks himself for a few minutes before he slips a moan out of his lips and seconds later, his cum spurts into your mouth, you instinctively swallowing every drop.

he pants lightly before pulling out and crouching down, cupping your cheek lightly. “you alright, sweetheart?”

you sniffle, wiping your eyes free from your tears and you nod, looking up at him and he smiles softly, using his thumb to wipe any stray ones.

“i’m sorry if i went a little too rough, baby.” he murmurs and you shake your head. “i’m okay, rafey.”

“good. i love you, [name].”

“i love you more, rafe.”

a/n : not edited!! but thank you so much for the request anon, i hope you liked it and i apologize it’s so short!! feel free to request more <3

[thechaoticcherub]

oooh i’m so excited you’re taking requests! can you do one where joel makes reader call him daddy a bunch? and just like…fiiiilllthy dirty talk 🤩

ah! A request!! Thank you!!!!

Say It

Pairing: Daddy!Joel x reader

Summary: No plot. Just fucking.

Warnings: 18+ please, daddy kink, fingering, begging, light smacking, mocking, humiliation, vague degradation, pet names, pussy pronouns, pussy smacking

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: I didn't really edit this at all and just kinda spewed it out! Enjoy!!!

Wanna read something specific for Joel Miller? Send me a request!!

“Say it,” Joel was holding your jaw in his hand and his voice was gentle but uncompromising. You looked up at him, your heart was racing. You desperately wanted to say it, there was a flood in your panties at the mere suggestion of it that proved that you wanted to. You were nervous though. Nervous to let go of control in such an intimate way.

  Joel’s thick fingers dug into your cheeks, “C’mon, sweet girl, I know you wanna say it…I can see that you’re drippin’ onto my floor.” Joels eyes darted down to between your legs. You were kneeling on the ground in front of him, completely naked, knees splayed out. Joel had guided you through removing every piece of clothing in front of him. 

Take your shirt off, babygirl, lemme see those tits. Now your pants, go on, don’t be shy, darlin’. Panties too. You’re makin’ a mess of ‘em anyway. 

You had shakily done as you were told and knelt in front of him while he stood before you, clothed, towering over you, imposing. That was when he suggested it and it knocked your breath out, not because it was really shocking but because you wanted it so bad. Joel had consistently told you what to do, called you ‘babygirl’, read you stories to fall asleep to, instructed you on how to pleasure him. The word seemed obvious but the subject had never been broached until now. You craved it. Joel had given a simple instruction but the word at the end had been something you had daydreamed about and he knew it. As you had sat, waiting for more instruction from him, naked and trying not to be ashamed of yourself Joel had smiled knowingly, his eyes roaming over you.

I want you to beg for it tonight, beg your Daddy. Your eyes had gone wide and all voice had gone out of you. You just stared up at him, leaking with need onto the floor. That was when he had grabbed your jaw and forced you to look up at him. Now he was looking down between your legs, bending slightly. 

“If you’re goin’ to drip like that, you’re goin’ to start doin’ what you’re told. Now say it.” He gave your jaw a little shake. 

“P-please, Daddy” You managed to squeak out. Joel crouched down in front of you so he was more level with you, his hand still holding your jaw. 

“Now, see here, Princess,” He started, studying your face. “I know you can beg better than that.” he said, his breath whispering across your skin, giving you shivers. “An’ I aint goin’ to tell you again.” He added. Joel’s free hand wandered up to your breast, his pointer finger traced around your nipple in a slow, lazy circle. Your whole body ticked upward, reaching towards the feeling of his touch. 

“Daddy, please, I need it. I need you to touch me, please, please I’ll do anything.” You let the words spill out of your mouth, trying not to think about how slutty you sounded or him. There was something so vulgar about being completely nude, on your knees, on display for him while he stood in front of you, flannel sleeves rolled up, belt buckle still closed, even his hunting knife was still tucked into a loop on his belt. 

Joel pursed his lips in mock sympathy, “Awww, babygirl…” he said, “Is she achin’ for her Daddy’s touch?” He asked. Your eyes fell down in shame as you nodded. Joel’s thick fingers tightened again, “Look at me,” he growled. You couldn’t force your eyes up to meet his stern, brown ones. His hand loosened on your jaw only to give your cheek a quick slap, “Babygirl, focus here, focus on your Daddy and do what you’re told.” He grabbed your jaw again, thumb pressing into one cheek and his fingers into the other. 

You forced your eyes up to meet his, Joel’s face softened slightly. “That’s my good girl,” He purred. His other hand reached down, “Alrigh’ I’m gunna touch that leaky pussy just to see how wet you are.” He informed you. You nodded and his hand went down between your spread knees and up to the lips of your pussy. 

“Holy hell, girl!” He laughed, “You’re soakin’,” You shuddered as Joel’s fingers stroked along your pussy lips. “Like I said, drippin’ all over my floor.” he cooed as his fingers languidly teased along your slit. 

“Daddy!” You whined, pressing your hips down. He pulled his hand away bringing it up in front of his face, looking at the mess all over his hand. 

“Uh-uh,” He shook his head. “You stay still, keep your eyes on Daddy, and get beggin’,” he instructed. Joel kept your jaw in his hand, holding you to make you  keep looking at him while he sucked your slick off of his fingers, relishing the taste, relishing that you were desperate for more. 

“Please, Daddy! I need your fingers in my pussy-”

“In your leaky, needy pussy, babygirl.” He corrected. You whined at the vulgarity but you knew you had to say it. 

“In my leaky, needy pussy! Daddy! Please! Daddy I want it!” You cried. Joel nodded,

“I hear ya, babygirl. I know.” he said, his finger traced one of your nipples again and then trailed down your tummy towards your pussy. Your stomach twitched, your pussy clenched. 

“Please! I just… need it so bad, Daddy! She’s aching, Daddy!” You felt a sob forming in your throat. Joel let out a throaty chuckle, his finger tickled over your pubic bone. 

“You love callin’ me Daddy, dont ya?” he asked. You nodded vigorously. “Words. And eyes on me, babygirl.” he said. 

“Yes! Yes Daddy! I love calling you Daddy!” Your eyes met his and he nodded slowly as his finger dibbed into your slit. He started to circle your clit and you knew you would be a goner soon. 

“You like giving up all your control to your Daddy?” he asked, leaning in towards you and pressing his forehead against yours, still crouched down, fingers circling your clit in a dizzying way. 

“Yes,” you whined, you felt your orgasm mounting inside you and you wanted to make sure you did everything right so he wouldn’t ruin your orgasm. The circles around your clit tightened, you clenched, longing for more but unable to ask for it with how focused you were on chasing your orgasm. Your breath burned through you, your cunt was twitching and you could feel your clit twitching under his finger. You needed to come, you could feel tears in your eyes as his finger stroked your closer and closer. Your knees shook under you and you let out a long whine of need,

“I can feel that pretty pussy is close, aint it?” Joel asked. You nodded. “Ask Daddy if you can come.” he instructed. 

“Please, Daddy, can I come? Please! I’m so close…it’s…please!” You tried to hold off, you tried to wait until he told you you could but his thick fingers stroking around and around your clit, swiping over it occasionally were relentless and you couldn’t hold off any longer. Your orgasm shook through you and it was clear he felt you coming as you clenched on nothing. You bit your lip to keep from crying out as the orgasm washed over you and you rolled your hips against his fingers. Joel rubbed your clit through it until you were shaking,

“Fuck,” He groaned, “You are…in a lot of trouble, little miss.” He chastised. Before you came down completely from your high, his thick fingers smacked your overly sensitive clit and you squealed, nearly collapsing. You pressed your knees together and sat back on your feet.

“Uh-uh, you’re aint gettin’ away that easy. Lie back, spread your legs for Daddy. I gotta punish you.” Joel’s voice was gruff and strained and your heart sped, 

“No, Daddy! I’ll be good! I’m sorry!” You whined. 

“I hear that you’re sorry but that ain’t good enough.  Daddy’s going to make sure that pussy is sorry for coming without permission. Lay back. Legs spread. Now.”

[adieutristana]

Hi! Can you make arcane characters x reader who is afraid of touch?

of course! thank you for the request <3

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn

summary; arcane women with a girlfriend who is afraid of touch.

tags/warnings; hurt/comfort, (vague) mentions of past trauma, fluff, mentions of poor mental health

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is pretty understanding when it comes to fear of being touched. she is as well, for the most part. when it comes to a relationship, i think jinx would be incredibly touchy, but if you tell her that you're afraid and/or uncomfortable she'll give you the space that you need. yes, jinx enjoys physical touch, but she doesn't want to overstep any boundaries.

✧.* jinx will probably resort to words to show her love instead, though she's not the best with them. saying sweet things like "i missed ya, trinket! i've got something to show ya, yeah?" or "oh gods, you just look so pretty, it's impossible!"

✧.* jinx is the textbook definition of clingy. look up the word in a dictionary, and her face will be underneath. so she won't physically hang off your arm if you're afraid of touch, but she'll still follow closely behind you like some kind of lost puppy. it's endearing, honestly. jinx just needs to be close to you somehow at all times.

✧.* the closeness reassures her. she's used to everyone she lets in, everyone she cares about dying. so to share that proximity with you and have the reassurance that you're here, alive, with her, it means a lot more than jinx thinks you'll ever understand.

✧.* like i said, jinx is the same way to an extent. touch-starved, but also won't let anyone close enough to touch her. so when she met you, let you in and began to trust you, part of jinx did expect that touch. you're in a relationship, after all. but once you explain to her, she understands wholeheartedly!

✧.* also constantly showing her love through gifts and grandiose gestures. makeshift firework shows that are a fire waiting to happen? yep! music boxes that play your favorite songs (although slightly out of tune)? also yes! tagging walls in the undercity with your initials together in hearts! you bet! jinx will go above and beyond, she doesn't want to scare you off by doing something she knows you're afraid of

✧.* on the off chance you do let her touch you she'll be making sure you're alright, but also very very happy for those little moments.

✧.* pressing soft kisses to your cheeks while whispering, "you okay, sweetness?"

✧.* jinx doesn't really question you on these things, she just lets it be. if you say you're afraid of touch, then so be it. not a problem for her.

✧.* "come with me!" she'd say, using her hand to wave you over. "what's this about, jinx?" you'd ask, quirking an eyebrow. jinx would be giggling all the way, shaking her head and nearly skipping towards her destination. "don't worry about it, toots! you'll love it, i promise!"

✧.* knowing jinx, she's probably dragging you to the last drop after hours so she can show you how she decorated it just for you (don't question how she managed to pull that off), or she's taking you to her hideout to show you some of the gifts she made you. she's just so excitable around you, she can't help it

vi;

✧.* vi is a little confused at first i think, but that's just because of her need for communication and specifics. like yes, you're afraid of touch, but what kind of touch?

✧.* she has a loooot of questions. she's not trying to pry at all, genuinely just trying to understand you and where you're coming from better. is it alright if she hugs you every now and then? can she hold your hand? what don't you want her to do? do you need her to ask to touch you, or not touch you at all?

✧.* literally just doing everything in her power to not scare you off. vi has a good thing going with you, something real. the last thing that she wants is to fuck it up because she couldn't keep her hands off of you

✧.* vi is sooo so good with her words, though. a master at sweet talking you to show her adoration.

✧.* "you look so beautiful right now, y'know that? i mean- you always do, but gods, right now..." or something along the lines of, "look at you, all focused and stuff. you always amaze me, cupcake."

✧.* one of her defaults is that it's a trauma response, mostly because she knows that's most of where her sister's fear of touch comes from. she'll try to approach the subject delicately, letting you know that if you need to talk about anything she's here and she only wants to help. it can come off as slightly patronizing without her meaning to, so it really all depends on how you take it.

✧.* if it is a response, then fine, vi wants to help and support you the best she can. if not, then she backs off still, settling for just doing you favors and vocalizing her love for you

✧.* she will not let you do a damn thing if you're in a domestic situation. vi is so loving and attentive. she will handle the cooking, cleaning, laundry, all that... you just rest!!

✧.* honest to gods, vi is just such a sweetheart. literally whatever makes you happiest and most comfortable is done without question by her.

✧.* on the off-chance that your girlfriend does scare you or accidentally crosses a line, she'll be profusely apologizing. asking if there's anything she can do to make it up to you, this is the absolute last thing she wants.. if you need space, you've got it. need words of reassurance? consider it done. literally anything.

✧.* generally, i'd think vi is touchy but not enough that this would be a problem. she's versatile, she can show her love in a lot of ways!

✧.* "mm.. i'll do your laundry for you tonight. give you some time off." "vi, that's not necessary-" "shh. it's done. see? i'm already on my way, getting your laundry..."

mel;

✧.* honestly a bit confused at first. mel has grown up around war, tragedy, and despair, but she hasn't met many people who are just downright afraid of being touched- even in the midst of chaos.

✧.* she probably immediately goes to thinking it's because of something that's happened, though, only because of the war and tragedy that she's seen. she hasn't seen fear of touch in particular, but mel has seen a lot of things affect a lot of people in different ways. if it is, then she wants to support you, of course. if not, she still will do her best to show her appreciation for you in other ways.

✧.* mel is easily one of the most devoted and gentle lovers ever, and she has so many tricks up her sleeve when it comes to affection. we've already established that she'd be spoiling you constantly, but she'd also be using her words so well. i also think mel might be the type to write you poetry, honestly. is she the best writer? probably not. but damn, she pours her heart into it.

✧.* "hey, darling. i wrote something else for you, see?" she'd say while holding up another slip of paper, just to add to the collection of your endless others. "written just for my dearest girl."

✧.* mel is just so attentive. she'll probably be a bit protective, especially in public. even if it's just a stranger innocently tapping you on the shoulder to ask for directions to the station, she doesn't want you to get scared.

✧.* "aht- i'll handle that. directions, yeah? you'll go straight here, then take a left, and another left right past the council building." all before someone can touch you.

✧.* if you do allow any kind of touch later on, mel will tread lightly. it's not that she thinks you can't handle yourself or you're fragile, but she just wouldn't be able to live with herself if she scared you off somehow or hurt you.

✧.* light caresses to your cheeks, gentle hugs, guiding you by the small of your back, her head on your shoulder or lap. always so careful, but so sweet and loving

✧.* of course mel will have a lot of questions initially, but it's only because of her need for connection and understanding. she doesn't mean to push or prod, she just wants to understand her lover better and know exactly what is and isn't okay. what will make you most comfortable being with her, that's all that she wants

✧.* hands-down the best at comforting you if you do happen to get scared by touch, though it's usually not at her own hands.

✧.* "hey. hey, tell me what happened. i'm right here, you're alright." she'd say, her voice low and soothing. "nothing's gonna hurt you, nothing's gonna touch you. at least not while i'm here. just let me make things better."

sevika;

✧.* i don't think you'd really need to have a conversation with sevika about it. she's intuitive. the first time you flinched from her touch, trying to wrap an arm around your waist, she knew something was up and she backed off. she wouldn't ask, wouldn't push for more information than you're comfortable giving her. something in her tells her that it's a sensitive topic, and asking might make things worse.

✧.* if you want to talk to her about it, the floor is open. you know that she'll listen, she always does. but until then, she won't pry.

✧.* if you do decide to have that conversation with sevika, she'll take in and cling onto every last word. we've established time and time again how loyal and devoted she is, how she'll do anything just to make sure you're content. she'd listen attentively, taking note of every little thing that you say scares you, of every shift in tone of your voice.

✧.* "i... thank you for telling me this." she'd whisper, her eyes locked with yours. "you know you don't have to hide a thing from me, yeah? but i won't ask for more than you wanna tell me, either. just don't hold out on me, dove."

✧.* besides, sevika has a lot of other ways she can show her love to you. that connection can be achieved through other means! late night talks, bringing you to play games of blackjack and poker with her, etc.

✧.* that's actually one of her favorite ways to have fun with you: gambling! as odd as it may sound, it's one of her favorite pastimes, and getting you involved in her world is a big deal for sevika. someone who famously doesn't let anyone in. so for her to play games alongside you when she's typically merciless, giving you tips for your own hand, it's a big deal.

✧.* if you do allow sevika to touch you, it'll be fleeting and soft. almost as if she's afraid. it's only because she wants to ensure your comfort and sanctuary, really.

✧.* light kisses to your jawline as she whispers things like, "look at you, so beautiful," or "my sweet girl, you look tired. let's turn in, hm? i can hold you. or not. your call, dove..."

✧.* like she doesn't need to be told twice that you're afraid. sevika is very good with respect, very good with communication and laying off. she loves you, she doesn't want to make you afraid or uncomfortable at all if she can help it.

✧.* super protective in public, though. if anyone tries to touch you at all, even if just to push past you in a crowded place, she's immediately pushing them away from you and telling them off.

✧.* "hey. you lay off her, ya hear? thought we learned as kids to keep our hands to ourselves."

caitlyn;

✧.* i think caitlyn would also catch on pretty quickly. she'd ask just to be sure, but she's a smart woman. she can take hints, put pieces together, figure things out. the first time you inched away from her touch was coincidence, the second time was anything but.

✧.* naturally, cait brought it up with you when she got a moment that was just you and her. she tries to approach the subject with caution and care, as she doesn't want to scare you off or seem like she's aiming to force information out of you. but she loves you, and she worries.

✧.* "you can tell me things, love. i promise, i won't get angry. whatever it is, you can tell me."

✧.* she's understanding once you do tell her! she's been raised knowing devastation and war, though her upbringing is privileged. she still knows about trauma, about fear, about phobias, all that kind of thing. even if it's just a thing of general anxiety and you not wanting to let people in that way. she won't take it personally, she knows that this is just something innate within some people

✧.* caitlyn will likely resort to her words and acts of service instead. she's constantly doing things for you, trying to make your life easier in any way that she can. if there's some housework you need done, consider it taken care of. if you're feeling hungry, she's cooking your favorite without a second thought.

✧.* she might accidentally touch you without thinking- like a brush against your back or a grasp of your hand, but she immediately pulls back and apologizes the second she realizes what she's doing. she gets the hang of it rather quickly, but she's used to showing physical affection to her family and friends.

✧.* she still loves sharing a bed with you at night, but cait makes it abundantly clear that she doesn't expect you to cuddle up to her, and she won't hold you unless you ask her to. she's perfectly happy having you next to her, just your presence soothes her to sleep.

✧.* "shh... just sleep, dear. i'll be right here. you always look so peaceful when you're at rest, it's beautiful."

✧.* cait is honestly just so sweet and understanding, she'll do anything and everything in her power to make sure that you're at ease!

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Hihi!! I have a small request idea if you're still taking them.

What if Shadow needed to take off his gloves -maybe they got a tear and needed to be fixed, etc, and the reader gets to admire his paws/ hands/claws (and perhaps the lil experiment number/mark I’ve seen him have in some things)? Can be platonic or romantic!! If romantic... maybe some hand smooches?

“A Show of Trust”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Mobians almost never took off their gloves. So when you get the chance to see Shadow’s hands, you aren’t going to take it lightly.

Notes: Eeee fics like these are always so cute! I hope I live up to that expectation with this one, and I hope you enjoy!

(Reader will be gender-neutral, and will be mobian for story purposes.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

It was a basic day for you; you didn’t have work today and there wasn’t much to do. Though, your partner, Shadow the Hedgehog, was off doing his own thing.

He was probably with Team Dark or racing with Sonic. Or shopping with Amy.

…Actually, you were banking more on the first one.

While you were in the middle of watching Cutthroat Kitchen, you heard the sound of Shadow warping back into the house, causing you to pause your show.

“Hey Shads! Welcome back,” you say, turning around on the couch, away from the TV.

…Only to immediately turn back around.

“I- didn’t realize your gloves were off, sorry,” you mutter.

“…And why is that a big deal?” Shadow asks.

“Well, um- Mobians typically only take off their gloves around the people they deeply trust,” you explain. “And partners, of course.”

“Considering you’re my partner and I trust you, I don’t think it matters if I have my gloves off,” Shadow says.

“You’re…allowing me to see your hands?” you ask.

Shadow steps in front of you, holding out his hands, palm side up.

“Only if I get to see yours as well,” he states.

You immediately take off your gloves and hold his hands by the back, admiring them.

His hands are more like, well, human hands, but he has paw beans and noticeable claws.

Each of his beans are the same color as his hand, except for the big one in the middle, which is pink, and the one on his middle finger, which is red due to his arm stripe reaching up to his middle finger.

“Shadow. Your paw beans are adorable,” you tell him.

“Thank you?” he says.

You kiss the tip of his middle finger, causing his face to tint green slightly, before turning his hands over, now holding his palms.

On the back of his left hand is his symbol, while on the back of his right hand is a different marking. His stripe goes around the back of his hand to make a red-outlined rectangle, the inside of the rectangle reading in red letters, “P.S. 02.”

“P.S. 02?” you question.

“Project Shadow, the second attempt,” Shadow mutters.

“Oh,” you mutter. “Sorry for prying.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “You were just curious.”

You pull his right hand up to your lips and give it a kiss as well, causing the green blush on Shadow’s face to become deeper.

You were starting to wish he would take his gloves off more often with how cute he was.

“Your hands are…much different than I thought they’d be,” Shadow says, holding yours up. “They’re more…paw-like.”

“Is that a compliment?” you ask.

“It is,” Shadow says. “They fit you.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet to me, moonlight,” you tell him.

“Not as sweet as you are to me, sunshine,” Shadow replies with a small smile.

You give him a kiss on the cheek.

You couldn’t be happier to have him in your life.