#to the tune of head shoulders knees and toes

[onearthwerebrieflygorgons]

Bears, otters, twinks and twunks

(Twinks and twunks)

Bears, otters, twinks and twunks

(Twinks and twunks)

Femboys, daddies, dilfs and cubs

Bears, otters, twinks and twunks

(Twinks and twunks)

[littlelillycatsworld]

where hurts?

head, shoulders, knees and toes

[tramontane-fire]

Ears, whiskers, nose and paws (nose and paws)!

[madaqueue]

PUSH AND PULL

something silent and intangible ties you to sukuna, and has for as long as you've known each other. but you can't help but wonder what would happen if you pull on that little red string of fate, bringing him closer than just friends.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: modern non-curse au, best friends to ???. suggestive/smut. language, pet names (pretty, baby, sweetheart), he calls you a slut but like as a joke, alcohol consumption, semi-public. 18+, MDNI (wc: 2.6k)

It was always just you and Sukuna, for as long as you could remember. Even as kids, the two of you found your home in the corner of the playground after he pushed someone off a swing you wanted to use; in highschool, you etched your names into the desks during some mundane class, landing both of you in detention. He wove his way into your life, and you into his, mending the frayed threads left behind by scissors and rough hands.

So of course neither of you ever dated - you didn’t need anybody else. Nobody would put up with (nor could handle) him and his moods. And you, well, nobody would dare get near you so long as you had him around.

To his credit, it took very little to scare any potential suitors off, oftentimes nothing more than a glare or a firm hand on their shoulder. And he seemed to understand that no one would ever quite compare to you, everyone else too boring, too bland, too pathetic to deserve his attention.

And so, you played along, this little game of pushing and testing and teasing and almost almost almost.

Yet, there was always something in the way, some invisible force keeping you from ever bridging the gap. “Just friends,” you both called it, a name for the insurmountable chasm between you. It was silent, unspoken, but always felt, a magnetic pull that kept you close but never allowed you to touch.

Tonight in particular, at this shitty house party of a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, that pull feels almost tangible, lingering in the hazy air.

Music blares, flashing LEDs illuminating the thin layer of sweat covering both of your bodies. Every thump of the bass electrifies the air, your heartbeat vibrating in tune. Tattooed hands hold your hips firmly against his body, your ass pressed to his pelvis.

You love this song. He loves you loving it.

That smug grin plays across his face, shadows cast by the flickering party lights above making it appear far more sinister to someone who doesn’t know Sukuna. But to you, he’s perfectly content.

When the chorus hits, you bend at the waist, dropping forward and grinding against him. Always such a fucking tease, he thinks as a quiet laugh escapes his lips. His fingertips tighten their hold but he shows no other sign of his sinful desires (he was proud of his restraint, even after all these years).

Bending your knees, the pathetically thin material of your dress rides up just enough that a prouder man would feel obligated to look away. Sukuna, of course, just chuckles as you look over your shoulder.

“You look like a slut.” Bright white teeth shine through his grin.

“At least I can dance,” you retort, hips circling against the front of his jeans. “You look stiffer than a dead guy’s dick.”

Throwing his head back, a laugh overtakes him, seemingly louder than the shitty pop song playing through the speakers. Pink hair catches under the red lights, absolutely electrifying. “Jesus, I forgot how filthy that fuckin’ mouth of yours can get.”

Fully turning around, you press your chest against his, your dress doing little to hide the way your nipples harden at the mild friction. The now-empty cup in your hand dangles at your side as you stand on your toes, lips brushing against his ear. “I’m gonna go get another drink to wash out this ‘filthy fuckin’ mouth,’” you shout over the music.

Instead of verbally responding, Sukuna steps back, slapping your ass as you make your way to the kitchen.

You know, of course, that he wouldn’t let anyone else talk to him the way you do, and you, of course, wouldn’t dare let anyone touch you the way he does (and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone else do it, either).

The kitchen is brighter than the surrounding chaos, your eyes blurry as they adjust. Finding your way to the stash of bottles, you pour yourself some combination of juice and liquor. The fake marble of the table is cold against your skin as you hop onto it, crossing your legs as the liquid hits your lips.

It’s certainly palatable, you shrug.

You bask in the muted silence for a moment before it’s broken by Sukuna’s loud footsteps marching towards you.

He always commanded attention so effortlessly, eyes turning to follow his path. At first you thought it was the visible tattoos lining his skin and notably unnatural hair, but over time you grew to wonder if there was something more innate, something living within his soul that evoked the unyielding focus from those around him.

Ruby eyes lock on yours (surely an effect of the colored LEDs still flashing nearby) as he glides in front of you. Your legs part, dangling over the edge of the countertop as he slots himself between them, arms encircling you.

Placing his palms onto the table behind your waist, the scent of whatever expensive cologne he probably stole this week hangs on his clothes as he leans closer.

“Thought I finally got rid of you when you didn’t come back.” His voice is gravelly, lips pulled into a leering smile.

“Maybe I just finally got sick of dancing with someone who only wants to paw at me,” you chuckle sarcastically. Lifting the cup to your mouth, you take another swig. “And you’re awfully close for someone who smells like shitty beer and sweat.”

“Oh really?”

Before you can respond, his lips are trailing up your neck, his nose pushing your hair to the side as he nuzzles into your skin.

His breath is hot, tickling your earlobe as he lowly whispers, “Well you smell lovely.”

On instinct your legs try to close around him, a desperate attempt to quell the ache growing between them. You hate his stupid fucking voice, his annoying flirting, how he always goes just a little too far pushing your buttons.

But he’s your friend.

(And that’s all you’ll ever be to him, too).

All you can do is chug your drink, hoping the alcohol dampens the racing pulse of your heart.

“Thanks, I actually pay for my perfume, unlike you, you fucking delinquent,” you manage to spit out.

Finally he pulls back, eyes locked on you. There’s an intensity behind them you can’t quite name, but one you’ve grown familiar with.

He’s playing with you.

A low hum vibrates from his throat in response, his gaze traveling down to your lips. “What’re you drinking?”

He changes the subject, as he always does when things threaten to get too serious, too real. Always running away, afraid to face the ever-insistent voice inside him that evokes a pause the moment before he hurls himself over the edge into desire.

You smirk. “Why don’t you try it?”

Bringing the cup to his face, it rests on his lower lip as you tilt it upwards, the saccharine liquid pouring down his throat. His eyes never leave yours as he swallows. A small trail dribbles down his chin while you place the empty plastic cup onto the counter beside you.

“Messy boy,” you coo, tone as falsely sweet as the drink lingering on his lips.

Grabbing his face, you pull him towards you, close enough you can make out the faint freckles decorating his cheeks. You collect the sugary liquor on your tongue as it travels along his skin, slightly rough from his freshly-shaved stubble. When you reach the corner of his mouth, you place a teasing peck before releasing your grasp.

“Someone should really teach you some manners, ‘Kuna.” And that devilish smile spreads across your face.

You see, you can play with him, too.

He stifles the giddy laugh building in his chest as he fixes his gaze back on you. “And someone should teach you how to make a drink, that shit was nasty.”

“You entitled brat,” you snap back, pushing him away with a hand against his chest. “I make excellent drinks, otherwise why else would you end up drunk on my couch every weekend, hm?”

“Maybe I just like the couch’s company,” he grins, dimples poking through the darkened lines spanning his face.

You’re both just staring at each other, waiting for something to happen, for someone to make a move. The air is electric, buzzing with that imperceptible desire.

Fuck it.

Just as you move to lean into him, a noise cuts through the static.

“Sukuna!” someone calls from the depths of the party.

His head whips around before shooting you an almost apologetic glance. “Guess someone else requires my attention.”

“Wouldn’t wanna keep them waiting for everyone’s favorite asshole,” you mock. With a mirrored smack of his ass, you send him away into the chaos surrounding you.

In his absence, your head swirls, overwhelmed with the alcohol and the lights and the sudden heat in your core.

Just friends.

You’re just friends.

Taking in a steadying breath, your hands shake as you pour another drink.

But at what point does it stop being a game? When do you decide to stop playing?

With a sigh you knock it back in one gulp before wandering between the bodies crowding the space.

The rest of the party is all skin and noise. It’s fluid and blurry and utterly debaucherous, the way you throw your arms around your friends, the way your body moves with each increasingly loud and repetitive song.

By the time the next few hours have passed, your feet start to ache as you make your way from the swath of strangers crowding the makeshift DJ booth at the front of the house.

Stumbling towards the back, a familiar voice calls your name.

“Where ya goin’, pretty?”

Sukuna is sprawled across one of the stained couches lining the walls, an unfamiliar girl hanging on his side. Her hands rest across his chest as her eyes cover you disapprovingly, nails digging into his shirt when you refuse to give her an ounce of attention.

“Lookin’ for somewhere to sit down,” you sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Got a free seat right here,” he smirks, patting his thigh. This fucker.

An angry glare forms along the girl’s face as she stares at you with a displeased grunt. Crossing your arms, you let out a breathy chuckle. “I would, but I wouldn’t wanna interrupt anything.”

Sukuna never even turns towards the girl who now traces her fingertips down his chest. “Nothin’ to interrupt here, baby.”

Exchanging a quick glance at the increasingly unhappy stranger lounged across him, she lets out an annoyed scoff as she rolls her eyes, finally removing herself from Sukuna. Brushing past you, she tries to shove into your shoulder before she misses, tumbling forward and back onto the dance floor.

You can’t help but giggle at the failed show of dominance, your eyes now finding their way back to Sukuna. He pats his thighs again expectantly, eyebrows quirking as he awaits your response.

He’s fucking with you, of course.

But before you know it, you’re standing between his legs. With a small sigh, you seat yourself on his lap, bare legs straddling him. A whisper of mischief dances behind his eyes while his hands make their way to your hips, holding you firmly in place.

“See? Isn’t this much more comfortable?” he taunts.

Heat builds in your core at how low his voice is, the rumbling of thunder just before a storm.

“Mmm,” you hum, letting your dissatisfaction show as you click your tongue. Wrapping your arms easily around his neck, your fingertips absentmindedly trace the lines of his tattoos to where they end at the neckline of his t-shirt. “It’s a bit better, but something’s still missing.”

“Oh yeah?” When he smiles, the lines adorning his skin crease invitingly. “And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You can’t help but grin silently. Because you can fuck with him, too.

Rolling your hips forward, your clothed pussy drags along the outline of his cock. The firm denim of his jeans provides just enough friction to have you stifling a moan. He inhales sharply through his nose, the soft sound cutting through the static noise surrounding you.

“Isn’t that better?” you coo teasingly as his fingertips dig into your waist.

A choked groan leaves his throat, his inability to let you have the upperhand fighting against the sudden desire to pin you down on this shitty couch and fuck you right here. Attempting to shake the thought off, his head falls forward into your neck.

Of course he’s thought about you like that before - you’re gorgeous, fucking hilarious, and somehow just as stubborn as he is. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

But some small part of him worries that the moment he pushes you too far, you’ll run, just like everyone else in his life. He was always too intense, too angry, too much. But not to you - you seemed to love him in spite of it, maybe even because of it.

Maybe that’s why he lets himself play this eternal game of cat and mouse, the push and pull.

But fuck, right now he wants to pull.

He wants to pull you against him, dragging you along the length of his hardening cock through his boxers. He wants to pull you up and down as he fucks into you, feeling your warm walls meld around him. He wants to pull your lips apart with his, tasting how sweet you are, whispering things he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else. Anyone but you.

The words feel heavy on the tip of his tongue. I want you. I want you. I want you. They’re too weighted, he worries. Instead, he settles for biting at your neck, hoping that your skin between his teeth will be enough to satiate his body’s need.

“S-shit,” you stammer at the sensations of his canines digging into your flesh. “Acting like a fuckin’ teething puppy, hm? Need someone to train some manners into you? Or do you want me to tell you to sit, stay, tell you you’re doing a good job?”

And he does. But of course, he’d never tell you that.

Instead, he bites harder, leaving dark bruises in his wake, a reminder of his mark on you.

As his lips trace up your neck, he pauses to nibble along your earlobe. “Just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” he whispers, his breath hot. “Wouldn’t want anyone taking what’s mine.”

You nearly whimper at the words - his? - but you manage to hold back, instead letting your neediness out with another circle of your hips. He hopes you miss the way his breath catches in his throat at the movement.

“Oh? I’m yours now?” you tease, silently pleading he doesn’t notice the lingering waver in your voice. “Quite possessive, don’t you think, ‘Kuna?”

You feel him chuckle more than you hear it, the warm puffs of air gently blowing against your hair. “I’m only possessive of things I want,” he growls. God, you always loved that rasp in his voice, like a gravel road lining the way home.

At this point, you’re sure your panties are soaked through, the tip of his cock dragging along your clit through them. You’ve never gone this far with him before, never been so bold, so desperate.

And he fucking loves it.

“And what do you want?” Your voice is airy, breathless, as your pace seems to pick up. You’re grateful for the dim LEDs flashing distantly from the depths of the party for hiding the blush undoubtedly dusting your cheeks.

Trailing wet kisses along your jawline, his mouth comes to rest just in front of you. His lips are soft, barely brushing against yours, a few millimeters apart. So close. So fucking close.

“I think it’s rather obvious.” His breath smells like liquor and desire as he whispers, “I want you.”

a/n: getting out of my writing slump by going back to my roots (wanting to fuck sukuna)

[igotyupls]

From Stress To Bliss

[[kinda sucks pre disclaimer ig, it got lame, i lost my touch apologies people.] WC: 1878 It had been a long, exhausting day for Y/N, the up-and-coming 4th gen idol. The constant pressure of maintaining his image, the gruelling schedules, and the relentless hate, criticisms from fat ass keyboard warriors and the other torment from the public had taken a heavy toll on him. As he trekked back to his apartment, all he wanted was to collapse in his bed and escape the stresses of his demanding career.

Little did he know, his girlfriend Hanni had other plans. The petite, hottie idol had noticed her boyfriend’s low mood and was determined to lift it even amidst of her skyrocketing career. She had been waiting patiently for him, her heart racing with anticipation and a naughty glint in her eye.

As Y/N unlocked the door and stepped inside, he was immediately yanked in a warm hug. "Babe, you're home!" Hanni called out , her voice filled with genuine concern. "I've been waiting for you. I can tell you've had a rough day." She pulled back slightly to stare up at him, her delicate features scrunched in a pouty frown.

Y/N couldn't help but feel a burst of love for this tiny girl who knew him so well. "Yeah, it's been a real shit show," he murmured relaxing his shoulders. "I just want to forget about it all and relax."

Hanni's pouty lips turned into a sly smile. "Well, I think I know just the thing to help you relax," she murmured smooth like a cat, her fingers trailing down his chest. Without letting him reply , she got up on her tippy toes and put her lips on his, tongue sliding out to play with his.

Y/N was caught off guard, still jumpy from his hectic day, but he quickly melted into the kiss, his arms encircling Hanni's non existent waist, pulling her closer. The regular scent of her perfume and the softness of her body against him making him hard and lovey all at the same time.

As they pulled back, both panting slightly, Hanni looked up at him with lusty eyes. "Let me take care of you, baby," she murmured, her fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt. "I want to make you feel good."

Y/N couldn't stop a pleased hum as Hanni's thin fingers touched his bare chest, her touch making his dick rock solid in blank time. "Fuck, Hanni," he murmured, his hands sliding down to grope her hips. "You're so damn hot, irresistible even."

Hanni giggled cuntily, her teeth softly biting his earlobe. "That's the point," she whispered, her warm breath tickling his ear. And then without a warning, she’s dropping to her knees, her pretty eyes locked to his as she slowly unzips and unbuckles his belt and zipper.

Y/N's heart hammering in his chest, dick trying to rip out of its confinement  as Hanni's skinny fingers gently touched his hardening dick. "Hanni..." he grunted , his fingers messing up her soft hair.

"Shhh," she hushed him, her tongue poking out to kitten lick the tip. "Just let me take care of you, baby." With that, she gobbled up half his dick in the warm, wet cave of her mouth, her eyes shiny with teenage hormones

Y/N's head fell back, a horny moan echoing as Hanni's tongue swirls and licks his leaky tip. The tension and stress of the day leaving his body and getting replaced by a rising tide of horniness that is about to eat him up.

Hanni's movements were slow and on purpose, her eyes never leaving his face as she worked him with practised precision like a hitman. She knew exactly how to drive him nuts, alternating between long, lazy licks and teasing flicks of her tongue, almost like a snakes slither.

Y/N's fingers scrunched in her hair, his hips bucking unintentionally as his body tightened in the underbelly. "Fuck, Hanni... I'm not gonna last," he groaned, his voice graty with lust.

Hanni hummed around him, the vibrations sending his nerve endings going nuts through his body. She sped up her pace like the tiktok edits of songs, her head bobbing in tune that only she hears as she takes him deeper.

Y/N's world shrunk until the only thing on his mind was Hanni's mouth on Y/N junior, the tension in his balls growing and growing until finally, he cums with a warcry, his semen shooting down her throat.

Hanni swallowed every last drop, her eyes shiny with happiness at getting Y/N to relax. As Y/N's shaking lowered, she slowly pulled back, licking her lips with a happy hum. "Feel better, baby?" she cooed, her voice dripping with confidence.

Y/N could only nod, his mind still foggy from the orgasm. "Damn, Hanni... That was... incredible," he murmured, his breathing still panting.

Hanni beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "I'm glad I could help you chill out," she said, getting to her feet and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Now, why don't you go get comfortable while I reheat something to eat? You must be hangry."

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at her endless energy. "You're the best, you know that?" he murmured, pulling her into a tight hug, chin resting on her head.

Hanni giggled, her arms wrapping around his waist. "I know," she teased, pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of his nose. "Now go, I'll take care of everything."

With a satisfied sigh, Y/N stepped out of his pants at his ankles and allowing Hanni to drag him towards the bedroom, his heart all fuzzy with love and thankfulness for this amazing girl who made this shit of a day so much better.

As he got onto the bed butt naked while tossing his unbuttoned shirt across the room, his mind thought about how lucky he was to have Hanni in his life. She was his rock, his best friend, and the one person who could always make him feel better, no matter how rough the day was, even with her career that is more famous than his ever will be.

Lost in his head, Y/N didn't notice Hanni's come in until she was standing before him, a tray of reheated left overs, "Dinner is served, babyboo," she stated, her voice all lovey dovey,

Y/N's stomach squeezed and made noise in response, as he gave her a big smile. "You really are the perfect girlfriend, you know that?" he said, pulling her down beside him.

Hanni giggled, snuggling up to his side. "I do my best," she murmured, her fingers drawing on his chest. "Now, eat up. You're going to need your energy for later."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin on his face. "Is that so?" he teased, his hand sliding down to squeeze her thigh.

Hanni's breath jerked softly, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Oh, you have no idea, baby," she whispered teasingly, smooching his ear tip. "The night is still young, and I'm just getting started." she murmured, pressing a rough kiss to his lips, turning him on more than before. As their makeout grew longer, Y/N put the tray of food on the nightstand blindly,

before Y/N's hands got all up on Hanni's small frame, ready to touch every inch of her. He gaped at how perfectly she fit into him, her soft skin, smooth curves morphing into his bigger, more harder frame. 

Hanni let out a soft, relaxed sigh, her fingers fistimg in his hair as she shoves herself closer. The tray of food left to get cold.

Y/N's lips moved down her neck, pulling a shiver from Hanni. "You feel so good, baby," he murmured, his voice low and grating with horniness. His hands snaked up her dress, stroking the smooth skin of her back.

Hanni pushed into his palm, a moan leaving her lips. "Y/N..." she croaked out, her nails scratching his scalp. "I want you so badly."

The raw lust in her voice sends testosterones rushing everywhere in Y/N's body. He came back up to her lips, his tongue sliding in her mouth and dancing with hers as his hands quickly got to work unbuttoning her dress.

Y/N's hands raved over her body, memorising every slide, dip and bulge. Hanni's breath shaky as he cupped her small tits, his rough thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Y/N hummed, his lips going back down her neck to bite at the pale skin. Hanni's back now arching, her hands sliding down his head to his shoulders, nails digging as waves of hormones went erupting inher.

"Then take me, Y/N," she cooed, her voice drizzling with need. "I'm yours."

Y/N almost leaped forward, kissing her roughly as he slowly lined his dick to her dripping cunt,

Hanni's breath getting stuck in her throat, her eyes blinking shut as she took in the feeling of him balls deep in her. Y/N stopped, letting her adjust to his size, his forehead resting against hers.

"You feel so good, baby," he murmured, his hips rocking in a gentle sway. Hanni let out a soft moan ’mmm’, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer.

But soon Their movements grew more wild, the room filled with the sounds of their shaky breathing and the slide of skin on skin. Hanni's nails scratching down Y/N's back, bringing a groan from the deep end of his vocal chord.

"Fuck, Hanni," he panted, his pumps becoming more unstable as the squeeze in his stomach get tighter and tighter. "I'm not gonna last much longer."

Hanni's eyes opened teasingly, her lips changing into a cunty smile. "Then don't hold back, baby," she purred, sounding more like a cam girl then the innocent idol she acts like on camera, her hips rolling in sync with his. "I want to feel every last cum shot."

Y/N's control snapped with her slutty words, as he pounds into her, his only thoughts are of Hanni's body and the sound of her breathless mewls.

Hanni met his every pump, her pussy clenching around him as she scoot closer and closer towards her own orgasm. The room was thick with the smell of their fucking, and the bed creaked under their frantic pumps and rolls.

Finally, with a panting groan, Y/N reached his max, his hips shuttering as he spurt deep inside Hanni. The feel of his hot seed filling her sent Hanni tripping over the edge, her body shaking and twitching with the force of her orgasm.

They clung to each other, their limbs tangled, as the aftershocks of their orgasms  ripped inside them. Hanni's fingers writing and drawing soothing patterns on Y/N's back, her lips pressing soft kisses to his sweat-y  forehead.

"That... was incredible," Y/N murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Hanni giggled, giddy inside with a mix of satisfaction and love.

"I told you I'd take care of you, didn't I?" she teased, her fingers running down his chest. Y/N chuckled, pulling her even closer and putting a soft kiss to her lips. As their pants slowed and heart rates went to normal, They relaxed in the afterglow of their fucking. Air still heavy with the smell of semen, sweat and the sound of soft sighs and breaths, relaxing Hanni’s mind raved over everything and nothing, while in turn Y/N's fingers messaged her temple lazily, as they softly drifted to sleep, food gone cold on the nightstand.

[solbaby7]

S.M.O

pairing: azriel x reader

part 6 of the shy!reader massage mini-series

[ loosely based off the song Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa ]

warnings: sexual themes, jealous!az, swearing, possible typos, (idk dude🤷🏽‍♀️ I can’t help that I like men who feed into my daddy issues and Az just gives every time)

summary: Azriel’s offended to have been left out of the fun—however will you make it up to him?

[ previous part ]

—

Needy. Greedy. Sneaky, little shadows.

Silently creeping up on you while you’re distracted with the piles and piles of paperwork Rhysand had been attempting to make a dent in for weeks. But after complaining of the words blurring together and none of it making sense anymore, you’d sent him off with Cass to go blow off some steam.

You’re dipping a quill in ink when you feel it brush against your toes; a cool caress climbing the length of your leg in a barely there touch that sent goosebumps across your skin. “Why are you still awake?”

Azriel’s still in his leathers, the top few laces of his shirt is completely loose and you’re quick to pick up on the clench of his jaw—the flexing of his hands at his sides that were still wrapped in thick bandages to protect his knuckles from the hours spent before the punching bags. “I was helping Rhys with some paperwork while he’s out.” The crackle of the fire fills the silence for a few beats of time before you turn to give him your full attention. “Is something wrong?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Your head tilts to the side, a crinkle of your brow and Azriel seems—restless. Agitated. He makes a bee-line for the bar cart pushed by the corner of the room next to the window. It’s cracked open, a cool breeze sifting through the thin fabric of your clothes. “About me.”

You lean forward in the seat, elbows resting on your knees as you watch him fill a glass halfway and knock it back in two gulps. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Is something wrong with me?”

It makes your spine straighten, a clipped laugh pulling free but it fades off when you realize he’s being serious. Standing there, perched against the window with the glass freshly filled and there’s a look in rich eyes; something tortured and devastating that’s hard to definitively place. “Of course not. Why would you even ask me that?” Full lips part to answer but Az shakes it off with a scoff, nose obscured by the rim of his glass but the tension in broad shoulders is unmistakable. “Have I done something to make you feel that way?”

One full minute passes before he speaks again, voice much lower—much less confident and it makes your chest ache to hear him so soft spoken. “Cassian told me about what happened the other night. With you, him and Rhys.”

“Oh.” You shift in place, hands nervously toying with the ends of your hair, nails picking at chipped polish and dry cuticles. You pray the firelight masks the red tint that smatters across the apples of your cheeks. “And that upset you?”

He scoffs, finishing the glass and setting it down so firmly it chips. You don’t dare mention it, taking note of the restraint he was already exhibiting by creating so much distance, doing his best to keep his hands occupied before he scaled the length of the room and ripped that oversized shirt clean off your frame. “It didn’t upset me,” Azriel runs a hand through messy locks, sneering at the bandage that catches in the strands and rips it off so forcefully it breaks in two. “I have no formal claim over you—not like Rhys, but I had assumed that if something like that were to ever happen that…” Az’s shoulders slump, a vulnerability washing over his gaze that had you moving to stand. “I thought that you would’ve asked me to be there too.”

The concern melts away and a slow smile begins to form at the corner of kissable lips, voice as soft as the first few strings on a freshly tuned violin. “Az,” The way you say it forces him to look away in shame; embarrassment burning beneath his skin when his words replay in his mind and if it weren’t for your hand cupping his cheek, he probably would’ve winnowed away. “Are you jealous?”

“I don’t have a right to be.”

Maybe it’s because of how irked he truly looked, hands fidgeting and strong facial features scrunched up that prompted your touch to glide from his cheeks down to the strong planes of his chest. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm and the cool touch of his shadows dancing through the strands of your unbound hair. “Don’t you though?” Lower and lower your hand goes, familiar ridges of hard muscle taunts you beneath intricately made fighting gear and something about the shiny daggers tucked at his hips has your thighs clenching. “I’ve spent just as much time with you as I have the others. I know your body like the back of my hand but I never wanted to assume—I wanted you to come to me when you were ready.”

He wastes not a second more, a groan rumbling through his whole being when he closes the distance and presses his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy, sloppy as teeth clash and tongues touch but you can’t bring yourself to care about bruised lips and being perfect when Az was holding you so close—like he was scared you’d change your mind and run off. “Was ready the first time you touched me.”

Azriel bends at the knee, hands curling behind your thighs to carry you in his arms. It doesn’t last long, just enough for long legs to bring you to Rhysand’s desk. The mountain of papers are swiped from the table without second thought, ink pot seeping into the wool rug as ravenous hands eat at any and all exposed flesh he can get to. “You never said anything.”

“I wasn’t worthy of you then,” Something in his tone changes, something darker and more primal that sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m not worthy of you now but I’m too selfish to care now that I’ve got you all to myself.”

His touch is branding, the grip on your hips keeping you firmly pressed against him and the whimper that you let out is eagerly swallowed by his mouth. Azriel’s not gentle by any means, desperate kisses down the length of your neck and the mark he sucks into the juncture of your shoulder has liquid hot need pooling in your panties.

It’s positively whorish.

Slutting yourself out to the High Lord and his brothers but you can’t bring yourself to care; too busy tugging off your—Rhysand’s shirt to make room for the mouth making a claiming path towards your breasts. “Az,” You gasp out when lips wrap around a peaked nipple, back arching into his touch when teeth bite down with the most perfect pressure it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “Please. I need more.”

“Wait.” A simple command that can’t be simply fulfilled and you begin to think he enjoys the way you squirm beneath him. “Do for me what I did for you,” A cruel smile quirks at the corners of his mouth and you nearly want to scold your body for betraying you, legs parting at the sight of him so unhinged—so hungry. Azriel settles between your thighs like he was made to be there, shadows curling around your knees to keep you spread and self-consciousness has no place to rear her ugly head when he’s staring at you like the Mother had presented him his wildest dreams on a shiny silver platter.

“I can’t,” You can feel his fingers touching, pulling soaking undergarments to the side, collecting the drip of your slick and sliding it back up. A thumb ghosts over the bump of your clit and Azriel can’t fight the groan at how your hips chase the retreating finger for more. “Please, I need you.”

“Evidently, not bad enough,” You thought Rhysand was insufferable with his teasing. Cool wisps of murky darkness lick at the strong line of his neck, blending into the deep umber of his hair and golden eyes seem to glow ten shades brighten against such a contrast. “Keep telling me though, I like hearing you say it.”

How are you not to comply?

When his head lowers and presses a kiss to your bare cunt; the only kind act you’d receive before he begins his feast. There’s no running away, no squeezing your legs for reprieve when his tongue drags and sucks and fucks into you with such skill.

Azriel doesn’t mean to but he can’t help but work harder than normal, feeling some need to prove himself—each moan and whine, breathy whimpers and teeth biting so harshly into the plush of your bottom lip he worried you’d break skin and draw blood. So be it. Whatever it took to prove he wasn’t last choice; to prove that he was deserving of being nestled between your legs, slurping at your sex like he’d found the fountain of youth and vitality. One finger slips easily into your sopping hole, a second added shortly after and Azriel’s pleased hums send shocks up the length of your spine. “So good, Az.” It’s breathless, choppy, chest heaving and cheeks flushed with your hands palming at your breasts and fingers pulling on your nipples while he works you through the pleasure. “Feels so good—please fuck me. Please, need you inside me.”

His mouth glistens with you when he raises his head, chin dripping and fingers unwavering in their steady pace. In and out, in and out, in and out. Golden eyes darken as if scalded in fire and covered in soot. “Wait.”

Cruel. So devastatingly cruel and yet when fingers curl inside, rubbing deliciously against spongy inner walls you’re thanking him. Babbled praises and garbled pleas for more as you writhe beneath him but he doesn’t stop; seemingly entranced by a spell unable to be broken by sweet words and soft touches. “I’m sorry, Az. I was wrong—please. Please, just touch me.”

The hard line of his brow finally loosens but only an idiot would think he’d let you off easy. Handsome smiles and husky words nearly distract you from the stealthy way he rids himself of his pants, boxers swiftly following. A sinful moan at the sight of him fully hard and weeping at the tip. “You’re sorry?” Azriel’s fucking hung, long and girthy and so utterly beautiful it makes your mouth water when he holds it tight at the base and settles it between your folds—taunting, teasing with the weight of it but never fully giving. A free hand glides up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, ghosting over your neck before sinking into your hair. “Tell me how sorry. Make me believe it while I fuck you stupid.”

He demands the impossible.

Words escape you when he finally fits the tip inside, feeding you inch after inch of perfect cock that you can do nothing but grip him tighter and whine. The first few thrusts robs you of thought, brain eddying to mush as he gives you time to adjust. “Azriel,” His back flexes at the sound of his name on your lips, eyes hazy and hair messy as he forces you to watch where you start and he ends. “It’s so fucking deep.”

“Yeah?” A kiss is pressed to your forehead. “Feel good?”

“So good. So, so good.”

“That’s sweet, baby.” The pillow comfort in the gentle tone dries up when his cock slowly drags out until there’s barely anything breaching your entrance. “But, that doesn’t really sound like apologies,” Azriel shoves it all back inside with one sharp thrust and the pace he starts is unforgiving. Hard wood digs into the base of your spine and your nails leave marks in the mahogany when searching for something—anything to brace yourself.

You can’t fulfill the request; eyes rolling back as the air is knocked from your lungs with each snap of his hips. Az refuses to stop despite your insubordination, a broken moan shoving its way past his pretty lips when you can’t stop clenching around his cock. “I’m—“

“Just wait for me—so close. Just a little longer.”

It takes effort to pry your eyes open, gazing up at him with glassy eyes and you’re tugging him closer to feel his mouth on yours. There’s no staving off the tight coil in your belly any longer, your release sounding with a pathetic shout and you can feel him filling you up, his hips faltering with sensitivity. “I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be—I was never offended in the first place.” A boyish grin on manly features, wings relaxed on the mattress and hair falling over his forehead. “Just wanted to hear you beg.”

[bookishdreamer28]

Rafayel x reader

Just Rafayel being head over heels in love 💜

"Rafayel are you drunk already?" You giggled as he gently picked you up and twirled you around. His melodious laugh filled the air. You and Rafayel were celebrating your anniversary together, and you decided to stay home, drink as much wine as you want and of course, kiss and cuddle as many times as you want.

"Nope, just in love" he said and gave you a peck on your lips.

"How lucky I am, having my own personal sweet-talker"you said and once he set you down, he kissed your hand and held it close to his chest.

His eyes were shining, like two crystal stones.

You rested your forehead on his, a fleeting smile displaying on your faces. This was all you needed. Just the two of you getting lost in your own beautiful world.

"Hhm I'm so happy" he sighed and his hands found their place upon her hips as always, further pulling you closer to his figure. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your bodies magnetically connecting as one while moving to the rhythm of the music playing in the background.

Your eyes found his as he kept looking at you.

"You're staring..again"

"How can I not? It's the most impossible thing to do when I have you in front of me"

"Oh please, do tell me more" as you stood on your tippy-toes, you heard him stop breathing, anticipating for your lips to touch his.

"You do love tormenting me, huh?"

"I just love seeing you all flustered" you gave him a small pinch on the cheek. He rolled his eyes and grabbed you by your waist.

"You are such a tease"

"Oh look who's talking"

You said and without saying anything more, he suddenly crashed his lips against yours violently. Savoring every taste and feeling. You softly moaned and Rafael's heart beat quickened. The noises you made every time you two kissed drove him crazy. He was weak on his knees for you.

"The things you do to me, the things I feel, nothing can ever be compared to the feeling of you touching me like this, loving me like this" he said once he pulled away from the kiss, and stared deeply in your eyes, letting himself swim in the starlight ocean of your pretty irises.

"Looked at you, my pretty flower" he said and softly laughed at your blushy face.

"And you say that I'm the one tormenting you. But when you say things like these..." you hide your face on the crook of his neck and he chuckled at your adorableness.

"But you're my everything! I want to remind you every minute just how much I adore you" Hearing all these words made your heart flutter in a way you didn't know you could feel. You looked up at him and he leaned down to leave a small peck on the tip of your nose and you smiled at the action.

"Now, will you dance with me again m'lady?" He held out his hand from below like a prince and you immediately held it, a huge smile displaying on your face.

"Of course my prince" you said in a teasing tone and for the rest of your dreamy night, nothing else mattered when you danced in each other's.

Rafayel is just so....so 🙇🏻‍♀️

Next is ma man Zayne so stay tuned !!!

[urhoneycombwitch]

65 w/ sbeve (if ur up for it 🫶🏻)

65- “you’re being particularly insufferable today”

foreword: for Syl @thecreelhouse <3 from Lulu xx

cw: public sex (bar bathroom, no one sees/overhears), dommy Steve, hittin' it from the back in this one folks, R w breasts + V

___

Your hair is threaded between the fingers of Steve’s right hand, palm warm and wide at the back of your head, pressure light but enough to have your cheek pressing into the bathroom door. 

Your entire front is flush to the wood, as well- tits spilling obscenely from the front of your tight dress as Steve ruts into you, cock sliding easily with a coating of your arousal. He slides all the way into your pulsing cunt, hips stilling against yours, waiting for your breath to return in choking gasps before nipping behind your ear.

“Gotta be quieter than the music, right, honey?” His voice is caramel-sweet, in stark contrast to the sharp tug at the roots of your hair. “Don’t want the whole bar hearin’ you get these pretty brains fucked out.”

Another deep drag of his cock in, out, and this time when he sinks back into you he angles his hips up, hitting that gummy spot against your front wall. A whine slips out before you can catch it, thighs and knees trembling; Steve shifts to take more of your weight, pinning you in place and chiding again- “Hush. You can take it.”

You feel a little delirious, orgasm building at the edges of your pleasure, Steve’s fingers (the ones that aren’t pulling your hair) rubbing slick over your throbbing clit. In stilted whisper, you get out- “you’re b-being particularly- ah- insufferable, today, Steve.”

He chuckles without any humor (makes your damn toes curl), hitting that spot again just to see your brows pinch in pleasure. “Careful, baby, you know how riled up I get when you use big words.”

Caramel turned bittersweet, Steve’s using teeth set to bruise at the base of your neck, that sensitive spot where shoulder muscle curves in; a cry gets smothered behind your teeth as you squirm against the full, solid weight of him along your back. 

“That’s good,” he coos, purring and kissing over the mark he’s made, lips soft and repentant on your skin. “I’ll let you come before the song’s over if you keep this up.”

“You’re on, Harrington.”

You regret expending the effort it takes to get those words out because as soon as you do, Steve’s setting a merciless rhythm, pistoning into you with impressive speed and strength. The breath gets punched from your lungs (probably a blessing in disguise), jaw going slack in silent rapture, eyes rolling up behind fluttering lids. 

Steve murmurs your praises as he feels you clench tighter around his cock, picks up the pace to start fucking you through it. To your credit (and to the tune of Steve’s glowing compliments growing hoarser by the moment), you’re quiet when you come, biting into the meat of your own hand to stifle any noises that do manage to bleed through.

The same can’t be said for the moan Steve lets out as his cock pulses inside of you, way too loud for the small space- Jolene is playing over the bar speakers, but it isn’t totally enough to cover the sound of him coming. 

You laugh, unintentionally clenching up further, Steve nudging at your cheek with his nose, panting and whining now- “Honey- please. Please stop laughing. Fuck me…”

“Sorry-” you do your best to relax, giggles still overtaking in brief spasms- “...it’s just. You were way louder than I was. After all that ‘telling me to be quiet’ stuff…”

“All right.” Steve’s huffy (not annoyed enough yet to pull out, apparently), thumb skimming fondly over the curve of your arm. “Now who’s being insufferable.”

[pumpkinbxtch]

apollo, more apollo or lester please???? without conditions or anything specific just apollo thank you, you write him so well

is the tune of my heart, can you hear it? ♪｡･:*˚

— apollo x fem!reader

warnings: none

a/n: hi baby, thank you for you sweet sweet SWEET words. don't worry, heres your girl. enjoy bby.

✧

You felt like a real nymph. You know, those ones sitting by the rivers on a rock with the water trickling over their toes and the sun bathing their skin, but mostly for the company they used to have. You glanced over, and even though he was still focused on his thing – pursing his lips and grumbling – you thought he'd never looked better.

You wondered how you ended up like this and fixed your gaze on the way the water bounced the light. It was funny because Apollo used to boast so much about how handosome he looked that you ended up trying to avoid him, even disliking him (nothing new among other campers), but now he was definitely a new person.

Lester or Apollo, whichever name he preferred, now presented himself with less pretense, and the simplicity of both his appearance and attitude seemed ten times more attractive.

He let his golden curls mingle with the chestnut ones, kept those eyes as blue as the sky, and toned down the exaggerated muscles for a more athletic body. You knew he had truly changed when he left some of the scars he had acquired during his quest, setting aside the perfect texture of his skin.

You hugged your knees and felt the urge to sink into him; his beauty was so ethereal that you resisted reaching out to confirm that he was real, that he was indeed beside you, creating beautiful sounds with the lyre and that you weren't delusional. He was like a dream, he was a dream. God, you could think about that all day.

Do, re, do...

His eyes were fixed on every note he made resonate on the instrument, as if he feared making a mistake, as if he weren't the god of it all.

Totally distracted, his hair began to cascade like a curtain of gold and bronze. You leaned in gently, and before you knew it, you were already running your fingers through his hair behind his ear. He immediately looked up at you, and the tension in his gaze eased, almost you could see a smile. Were you that remedy for him as he had become for you?

— Darling — minutes had passed in silence before he said it just audibly, the sun beautifully lit up his eyes, leaving you breathless. His hair brushed against your fingertips back, resisting being contained, or maybe, that small gesture was enough to make you lose the strength to take something as light as that. You just smiled at him.

You were good friends, but you no longer felt that way, how is it possible to fall in love with a god? If that was one of the views their ex-lovers had, now you understood all the parents of Apollo's cabin children. Ugh, you felt bad for having that thought and hugged yourself again as you watched him return to the lyre.

— This melody...— he said, breaking the silence, —it always comes out better when I'm in love.

You rested your head on your knees as you tightened your grip on them.

— But it sound beautiful.

And he nodded with a radiant smile. Wait, was he in love?

— Oh,— your disappointment choked you, and you raised your eyebrows pretending interest. — Who is it?

Apollo closed his eyes, letting out a laugh, shaking his head mockingly as if it were obvious and you had to know the answer. That annoyed you, how the hell were you supposed to know who he was in love with if he could be there and in Alaska at the same time?

— You're hopeless, aren't you?— He left the lyre by his side, and it was his turn to crawl towards you. You lowered your gaze, watching as the lake snaked, you could almost see your chances being dragged away by it. He touched your shoulder to get your attention, and you wanted to resist, you didn't want to see him, it was embarrassing.

— What? — you snapped.

— You get in a bad mood so quickly — he teased, affectionately taking your hand, making your heart race even though you knew it wasn't uncommon for him, that's just how he was, so you just sighed. He smiled, trying to find your eyes as you avoided them, then he leaned back and directed your hand to his cheek for you to cradle him, Apollo didn't stop pleading until you looked at him. — It's been better since I met you.

You returned your gaze to him, confused. How could he say that so calmly and with those sparkling eyes? Damn the way he looked at you, you wanted everything from him.

Apollo kissed your knuckles and traced your arm with small kisses, when he started laughing, he stopped to look into your eyes once more.

You weren't a nymph, to him, you were a goddess.

— And do you love me? — he asked, innocently.

You knew the answer.

[kengan-daddies]

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Female Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4

Anime : Baki: Son of Ogre Character : Baki Hanma Warning : Mention of child abuse, child neglect, questionable behavior, horror aspect

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Female Reader

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Female Reader

It's been about 5 months since Baki moved into your home, life has been the best it's ever been for you both. Baki had a mother and you had a son. Baki's grades have improved greatly since then too, you've helped him with his homework whenever he needed it and he also seemed to learn more easier with your help. You couldn't help with everything but with a few subjects, you could. He's been happier lately too, he'd spend most of the week at home while on weekends he'd go to his 'man cave' and he'd work out and train nonstop for hours. Then on Sunday evening he'd come home and eat dinner with you before he'd go to bed. Some weekends he didn't train at all, opting to stay home with you instead. Helping with chores, watching TV with you, going shopping, and even hanging out for the day.

You've gotten use to folding extra clothes, washing extra dishes, cleaning an extra room, and taking care of a dog. It was all familiar yet new to you. You've gotten used to helping Baki sleep at night, combing your fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. You've gotten used to him being up long before you on weekdays, you've gotten used to him following you around like a lost child, always ready to help you with even the smallest of tasks. He was always around, always there to help you when you least expect it, you found it cute. You've learned that Baki was a nervous kid. He wasn't used to asking for help or having a parent around. He was quick to leave without saying goodbye, but he'd always come rushing back in to either give you a hug or a quick goodbye.

You've gotten used to his physical affection, he liked hugs, but he didn't give hugs. instead, he'd rather receive them. He'd lean his head on your shoulder, or he'd hover around you quietly, looking sad or deep in thought. You didn't mind giving him hugs, it reminded you of his childhood, when he'd come rushing to you, tattered and beaten. Blood staining his clothes, his hair a mess, and bruises covering him. He'd say that he wasn't in pain but that he was sad, sad that his mother didn't love him. You've always given Baki hugs since you've known him, he'd find you in the most random of places, and he'd hang around you for the day, feeling comfort from your presence alone, and that still stands to this day.

You stood in the laundry room, and you were loading your clothes into the wash, starting with your pants, then shirts, and lastly underwear. You hummed a little tune as you hunched over the edge of the washing machine, one of your legs bent at the knee while your other leg was pushed up on your toe to help you reach into the washing machine. You sighed as you stood back up straight, Baki was standing behind you, a blank look on his face as he watched you load the wash with cleaning supplies. You closed the wash and turned it on. You turned around and almost ran into Baki but his hands held your shoulders to keep you from walking into him. You stared up at him in shock before you smiled at him. "Oh, Baki you startled me." You said with a chuckle.

His blank stare was strong and it made you slightly nervous. "Baki? ... What's wrong?" You asked. He stared at you a little longer before he released your shoulders and he looked down in thought. You stared at him in question and curiosity, your nervousness leaving you as worry overcame you instead. "Well... I was wondering... Would it be okay if... Kozue came by today?... I, uh... Want her to meet you." He said nervously. Your worried stare slowly melted into a sweet smile. "Of course, you can Baki, I don't mind at all dear." You said as you placed a hand on his shoulder. He gave released a shaky sigh at your response. "Awesome." He said.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

Baki was walking home with Kozue next to him, they were quiet most of the way, just enjoying each other's company. Kozue was the first to speak up. "So... I'm going to meet your 'mom'?" She asked her gaze still on the pavement. Baki's lip twitched and his hand slightly clenched into a loose fist. "Yes, you're going to meet my Mom." He said in a light defensive tone. She looked over at him, seeing his jaw tight, his gaze cast forward. She looked away with an apologetic stare. "Sorry... We're going to meet your Mom, and I'm sure she's lovely." She said in a much more accepting tone. His jaw loosened and he gave a small smile. "She is... She's the most wonderful person you'll ever meet... She's so beautiful and so kind... I don't know where I would be without her." He said his voice full of admiration and love. She stared at him with a perplexed stare before she looked away her eyes towards the sky as she smiled. "Yeah... I most certainly can't wait to meet her now." She said.

He gave a light chuckle, his eyes gleaming as he saw the apartment complex not too far. "There, just up ahead." He said. She looked at the apartment complex. "Wow, it's a good-looking place." She said Baki's cheat swelled with pride. "I know right? My mom got the best taste." He said in a boastful voice. She chuckled at him as they entered the gate, heading towards the stairs. Their shoes tapped against the concrete stairs as they ascended to the fourth floor, once there, Baki dug in his pocket as he led the way, fishing for the key as they neared the door. They stopped in front of it and he began unlocking the door, however the door opened and Baki pulled back in slight shock when you suddenly opened it.

You stared at him with a smile, your hair combed and some light makeup on your face, you wore a casual outfit your purse on your shoulder, and some comfortable shoes on. "Hey Baki!! Glad to see you're home!" You happily said with a wave. They both stared at you as they blinked in thought, trying to understand. Baki was the first to speak. "Mom, where are you going?" He asked as he eyed the purse and your light makeup. You chuckled with a light wave of your hand. "Oh nowhere now, I just got back from the store actually." You explained. He frowned. "But I wanted to come with." He whined. You gave him a half-assed apologetic smile as you reached up to ruffle his hair. "Sorry Baki, I'll wait for you to get out of school next time." You said.

He pouted in response. "Okay." He said. You smiled sweetly as you gave him a light punch to his chin. "Aww, don't be like that sport, I promise to bring you with me next time, I promise, plus I got cha a snack!!" You said with a cheeky smile. A smile graced his face. "Really!?... Weeeeel." He said with false contemplation as he rolled his eyes in thought. Kozue watched you both, observing you both in your most natural element. She smiled softly at the two. 'She isn't his birth mother, but she's practically his mother... Their bond is so strong and it's full of happiness too.' She thought to herself as she watched you both laugh and goof around.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

Kozue and Baki both sat in the living area on the couch, they were watching TV, and the sound of you fixing them a light snack could be heard in the kitchen, the two were watching the news, listening to the newsreportor speaking about crimes going on about in their area. Kozue looked over at Baki without moving her head, her eyes stared at him in wonderment and question as she saw the strange look on his face. 'Emotionless... Yet thoughtful and... What was that last emotion? I've never seen it before... It doesn't look right on Baki's face.' She thought as she stared at him from the corner of her eye. She looked to where he was looking and she saw you. She stared at you, trying to understand the reason for the look on his face. 'She's not doing anything strange to be gawked at like that, she's just making a snack.' She thought as she stared at you.

You moved back and forth slightly, preparing the light fulfilling snack for the two teens, you hummed a little tune while you were deep in thought, you walked over to the fridge and pulled out two cans of soda for them to drink from. You picked up their plates one in each hand as you turned around and you walked to them with a sweet smile on your face. "Here you two go, I hope sandwiches, chips, and cookies are enough to fill you two." You said as you placed the plates on the little table. They both smiled as they got off the couch and sat down before the little table. Baki had 4 sandwiches, 2 bags of chips, and 5 cookies while Kozue had 2 sandwiches, a bag of chips, and 4 cookies. Kozue smiled. "I haven't had a snack like this since I was a kid." She said as you placed their sodas down next to their plates.

You smiled at her. "Trust me, when you get older, you'll go back to these 'childhood snacks', they save so much time and they're actually pretty fulfilling." You explained. Kozue smiled at you. "What makes it so good?" She asked. "Nothing, it's just the fact that now you can actually appreciate the 'snack' as an easy meal is all." You said with a shrug. She stared at you for a moment before she looked at the plate. "Appreciate the snack as a meal..." She said to herself as she pondered the words. You chuckled at her. "You may not understand now, but you will one day, until then eat up!! I'll most definitely be cooking dinner tonight so that'll be a good 'meal' to hold you both over until then." You explained as you ruffled Baki's hair.

He looked up at you like a curious puppy and it made your heart melt. 'He's so adorable!!!' You thought. You pulled your hand away as you stretched your arms high, squealing in pleasure when you heard some bones pop that you didn't know where from. Your shirt rose up some, showing your lower stomach, you walked towards the stairs and you sighed, you stepped up on the first step before you looked back at them. "If you two need anything, just come ask, until then, Kozue?" You said giving her a pointed stare. She perked up as she looked over at you. "Yes ma'am?" She asked. You pointed over at Baki. "Ask Baki for anything and make yourself at home okay?" You said placing your hand on the railing. She nodded her head.

"Good. I'll see you two later, I'm tired, I need a nap." You said as you walked up the stairs. "Okay, bye Mom, sleep well." "Bye Miss (L/N), sleep good." They both said bidding you farewell you waved back lazily as you vanished upstairs. They both listened as your door opened and closed, they looked at one another and they smiled before they closed their eyes and clasped their hands together, and said their thanks.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

Dinner has been cooked and served, and the three of you sat at the dining table eating your dinner. The sound of chopsticks lightly tapping together, the sound of bowls and cups being softly placed back down, and the sound of talking and laughter. That's all that could be heard as the three of you ate. Kozue could feel the love in the air, it was thick, it was beautiful, it was real. She could stay here forever, watching both you and Baki. "You guys deserve each other, the love is real and strong." She said. Both you and Baki stared at her. "You guys share so much harmony, it's truly one of a kind." She continued. Baki gave a soft chuckle as he looked down at his hands and you smiled at her. "Thank you, Kozue, you're a lovely girl. I'm so proud that Baki has found such a young woman like you." You said as you reached over and lightly pinched his cheek. "Ow." he whispered. Kozue blushed as she smiled bashfully at you. You chuckled as you let go of Baki's cheek. "Yeah, Kozue is a one-of-a-kind girl, she's real special." Baki said softly as he looked over at Kozue.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched them both smile at one another. "So many years have gone by... I missed so much... I'm sorry Baki." You said with a sigh. Baki looked over at you in shock at your words. "What are you talking about? You've done more than enough." He said a wavering smile on his face. You shook your head. "I could've done more, when I heard of your mother's death, I should've came to you, but I hid out... I was afraid." You said your gaze locked on your fingers as they rubbed against each other. "Afraid of what?" He asked, his voice almost a whisper. "I was afraid that you wouldn't want me in your life anymore, that your mother was your one and only, I didn't want you to feel like I was replacing her." You explained. Baki's hands balled into a fist as he breathed in shakily. "Don't say that." He said. "But it's true... I should've came to you sooner, I left you alone for four years, Baki... I'm a terrible person." You said with an empty chuckle.

He slammed his hands sown on the table, making both you and Kozue shake. "STOP SAYING THAT!!!" He shouted. You both stared at him in shock. "Baki." Kozue whispered. He walked around the table and he grabbed your arms, making you stand up as he turned you towards him. "Don't ever say such terrible things about yourself. You lie when you say that you left me alone for four years. You always left a bento box at my door for me to take to school every morning, you always folded my clothes for me when I wasn't home, you always kept my home clean, you kept groceries in my fridge, you'd buy me new clothes. You weren't there physically but you were there, and that was more than enough for me!!" He said his eyes gleaming in rage and passion. You stared up at him, speechless. "You were always there for me, you were always making my day brighter!! And then... You came to see me that day." His voice and grip relaxed, he wasn't holding you so tightly anymore, and his stare wasn't as intense.

"That rainy Saturday morning, you knew I didn't have any school that day, and you came to see me, drenched in rain, no shoes, the only thing you wore was that large shirt you like to wear to sleep, soaked in rainwater... You looked so pitiful yet so beautiful and strong at that moment... I was so happy to see you." He said, the memory just as vivid in his mind as if he was reliving it again. He held you in his arms, getting soaked himself but he didn't care, as he crumbled to the ground with you, the sound of your small voice constantly apologizing to him over and over, and he constantly replied with his hand rubbing your head as he reassured you that it was okay... It was a fond memory that he held close to his heart... Kozue watched as Baki hugged you tightly, his hand rubbing your head gently, your hand balled into the back of his shirt your face pressed into his shoulder, she didn't know that she was watching what happened that rainy Saturday morning, she smiled at the tender sight. Her smile slowly faded when she saw the gleam in Baki's eyes.

Even his face seemed different, it was the same stare she had seen earlier that day when you were making them a snack, it made her shiver in fear as she saw the look, it was so unfamiliar... so un-Baki... It was almost sinister. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise... I won't let anyone ever separate us ever again... No matter who, they are." He said, his gaze cutting over to Kozue. Her blood froze in her veins, and her eyes widened in fear as she stared at the dangerous glare in Baki's eyes. 'It's aimed at me... He's including me as a threat too... Does that mean... that everything we've been through doesn't matter to him?... Does his mother mean more than that?... Would he actually kill me?' She thought, his gaze was dangerous and filled with promise of violence. He finally looked away from Kozue and he pulled back from you, his eyes back to being loving and kind as he looked down at you.

You smiled at him. "Thank you, Baki, you're so sweet." You said, your hand reaching up as you pulled him down by his shoulder, and you kissed his forehead gently. "I'll do my best to be a great mother to you." You said. He smiled sweetly at you. "You already are, Mom." He said.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

Kouze and Baki walked down the dark street together, silence enveloping them both as they walked to Kozue's home. You told Baki to walk her home and to make sure she got there safely, you gave her a hug goodbye and you let Baki know that you'll be at home waiting for him to get back and that he couldn't hang out because he had school tomorrow... They never spoke, from the time they left Baki's home to the time they were all the way to Kozue's home. He bid her farewell and that he'd see her later, and with that, he left, almost anxious to get home... She sat up in her room, dressed in her night clothes as she brushed her hair out, her mind wondering to what happened at dinner. "That stare, that look... It wasn't Baki at all, he almost seemed like a monster... He gave her that stare at the most random at times." She spoke aloud to herself as she thought back to the strange blank stare he would give you. "He almost looked... Hungry in a way... Like he was hunting... It wasn't normal." She said as she placed her brush down. Her eyes widen in realization. "No... not hunger... but possession... He's possessive of his Mom... It's normal, no matter how you look at it." She said as she looked down at her lap.

Her hands in her lap gripped the fabric of her pajama pants. "And then there was that stare he gave me... when he promised that he and his mom would never get separated... no matter who it was... It was full of violence, no ounce of love in his eyes as he stared at me... I've never seen him look at me like that, not even to his opponents would he would look at them like that." She spoke, her voice wavering from fear. She sat there a little longer before she reached over and she turned off her lamp light, she walked over to her bed and she got under the blankets, she laid there for a while on her back before she turned towards the window, the slight slither in between her curtains let her see the night sky. 'I'm starting to think... That Miss (L/N) might be in danger.' She thought as she pulled the covers closer to her chin. 'I just hope I'm wrong again.' She thought.

The Boy Next Door

The Boy Next Door

You laid in your bed, sleeping soundly, your blankets pushed off you in your sleep as you got hot, your shirt rolled up to your under breasts, Baki's dog has found himself to like your company so much that he actually sleeps in your bed with you, curled up to your side. Your room door was wide open, the house was dark but you could still see faintly. Next to your bed stood Baki, the same blank stare as he looked down on you, he was wearing his muscle shirt and pajama pants. His eyes studied your face, neck, breast, arms, stomach, crotch, thigh, legs, and feet. He leaned down till his nose was barely brushing against yours. "I'll always keep you safe, Mom... and I'll kill anyone who ever tries to separate us... we're meant to be together, forever." He whispered.

[nateezfics]

joong who loves teasing you bc its sooo cute how you get all huffy and desperate for him just for your features to melt when he finally gives you what he wants...

joong in his sunglasses and a gorgeous suit smirking at every camera because in his peripherals he can see you eyeing him up and trying to hide the very obvious effect he has on you !!

so when you press up against him in his dressing room and shyly ask him to take care of you (which drives him crazy bc he Knows ure dirtier than that) he whisks you home and teases you with a vibrator while you paw at his shoulders begging for more but he just laughs at how desperate you are ....

bringing you right to the cusp of an orgasm over and over again until you beg for him properly and then he's fucking into you with his mouth and fingers and his cock until you can't say anything but reverent whimpers of his name that barely even sound like his name by the time he's done with you

“joong in his sunglasses and a gorgeous suit smirking at every camera because in his peripherals he can see you eyeing him up and trying to hide the very obvious effect he has on you !!”

in sunglasses and a suit? and smirking? something like this —

ok so. the above pic is from when he attended the balmain show during fashion week. so imagine this.

you’re with him as his plus one. you’re witnessing before your very eyes how delectable he looks, styled head to toe in balmain. confidence and power radiate off of him, and his aura is so addicting. more so than normal. you’re wet the moment you see him, hair styled, sunglasses on, in that outfit, and looking so sexy you have to keep your knees from buckling. he’s so fucking desirable when he’s in his element.

hongjoong, being so tuned to you and your body, instantly knows you’re aroused. teases you the whole evening with quick touches, that to every onlooker appears innocent, but have your breath catching in your throat and goosebumps scattering over your skin. teases you with low whispers in your ear during the show, making sure his lips graze your ear. you’re at your wit’s end by the end of it all, and so wet your panties stick uncomfortably to your pussy.

you’re so desperate for him, but when he gets you back to the hotel room, all you can manage is whimpers and small pleas. you grind your hips into his hardening cock while he kisses you against the wall. he’s so amused, but you’re frustrated and impatient.

“if you’re really so needy for me, say it. i know a dirty slut like you can beg for me better than this.” picks you apart with comments like this, while his hands tease the sensitive parts of your body.

and just when he puts that vibrator against you (it turned out to be a good idea that he told you to bring it), and you think that finally he’ll relent, he rips it away before you can cum. he does this over and over until you’re a begging, whiny mess underneath him. he gives in after deeming that you’ve begged enough, and he makes up for all his teasing tenfold.

soooo many orgasms. on the vibrator, on his tongue, on his fingers, and on his cock. fucks you while he’s still dressed in that outfit, save for the glasses. doesn’t even care how your release gets all over his pants. ruins you so good, ruins you until the only sounds you can manage are the broken syllables of his name.

[luimagines]

He’s Turned into a Kid Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Twilight, Warrior and Hyrule.

Content under the cut!

Twilight

The small boy looked around quietly. He was so much smaller than you thought he would be. Curiously, he walked around everyone, taking in what everyone was wearing and what they looked like. 

With enough time, of him checking everyone out and everyone staring at him, he reached up and gently ran his fingertips over his ears. “You look like me.”

He then smiles from cheek to cheek, looking so innocently happy. “No one looks like me in my village!”

Oh your heart, you kneel down. He’s taller than you this way, but you don’t mind. You doubt he does either. “Well hello there, young man. Traveling our way?”

Twilight tilts his head, looking around himself one more. You can see the way his demeanor shifts when he sees that he’s not anywhere that he recognizes. “Uh-oh...”

“What?”

“I’ve never been this far away from home before.” He clutches his arm before he turns to you, tugging on your shirt. “Hey. Are we close to Castle Town? Rusl used to go there from time to time. He might be there.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just take you straight home?” Hyrule mutters. He’s quickly elbowed by Legend and with good reason.

You’re not even in his era. You wouldn’t know how to help him get back to his village to begin with. But you can get to Castle Town from here no problem. And maybe Zelda would be able to help get Twilight back to normal. Otherwise, this might get very messy very quickly.

You hummed. “Well, what if he’s not in Castle Town? Then what would you do?”

It seems like a dumb questions, but part of you wants to be prepared for that very real possibility (certainty) when you get there.

Twilight didn’t seem to consider that. “Well, then I can take the road like he does. He says that it’s a three day trip from Castle Town to our village. So I would take me a while to get back... but I think I can do it on my own.”

“Have you done it on your own before?” You stand because your knees are starting to hurt from being in that position for so long. 

“Well... no...” He looks un certain again.

You nod, sticking out your hand. He takes it without hesitation. “Well let’s try to get to Castle Town first. We need to talk to some people there anyway.”

“We do?” Wild looks around for confirmation from the others.

“Yes, Wild, we do.” You try to stress the words so he can get the hint across. “There’s a little problem that we need to see of the Princess can fix because she’s really good at magic. Right guys?”

“Right.”

“Of course.”

“Naturally. We were already on the way there.”

“See?” You turn back to Twilight. He looks calmer now and he even starts to swing your hand back and forth. “We’ll help you out, ok?”

“Ok!” He smiles back, humming a small tune to himself before he changes his direction with a little skip .”Let’s go!”

You giggle, letting yourself b puled forward as he charges. “Easy! Hey, hold on!”

“This is going to be so much fun! I’ve never been on an adventure before.”

“Well hopefully this is a nice one.” You smile. He was a cute kid.

Warrior

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” Warrior wrings his hands in front of himself, toeing the ground shyly.

Everyone stands frozen at the sight of him.

He’s hardly at the height of your hip and he can’t be any older than seven years old. He’s adorable. It’s not fair.

Warrior shuffles nervously on the spot. He knows that everyone is looking at him. He looks around for a moment before he shyly tugs on your shirt. “Where’s my mama? Have you seen her? She’s really pretty and tall and wears a lot of red.”

You gulp and kneel down to meet his height. “No, I haven’t, honey. Sorry.”

You can see his lip wobble before you put your hands on his shoulders. You smooth down his shirt and brush away the tears that have yet to fall. “Don’t cry. We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

“She’s probably looking for me.” He tightens his hold on his shirt. “I’m going to get in trouble.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no-” You brush him down a bit more, fussing over him. “We’ll find her and explain to her what happened, ok? You won’t get in trouble. We’ll all friends here so we’ll look after you, ok? We’ll help you.”

“Promise?” He looks up to you with wide, wet eyes and your heart aches.

“I promise.”

“A heartbreaker before he even knows what that means.” Twilight shakes his head. “Using his looks to get something his way.”

“Twilight.” You hiss, turning to him. “Not helping.”

Warrior nods and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “Ok... Thank you...”

You nod and stand up again, holding out your hand for him to take. “Ok. We need to make our way to Castle Town. It’s about a day away. Think you can make the trip with us?”

He seems to take courage and nods, taking your hand in his. “I can! I live close by to Castle Town! It would help me get home faster!”

“Ok.” Legend stretches. “But we’d need to talk to Princess Zelda first before we can help you get home.”

He tilts his head. “Princess Zelda?”

“Yup!” You start to walk forward, signaling for the group to start making the trip. “She’s really nice. You’d like her.”

He hums quietly before he shifts to stand a little closer to your side. “My papa says he works close to the princess. He says she’s very pretty... Is that true?”

“She is very pretty. Yes.” You agree readily, mostly to humor him. 

“Is she as pretty as you?”

You trip over your own two feet. You turn to look at him, not wanting to make it awkward. Even if you’re incredibly flustered.  “I would say she’s prettier than me.”

“Impossible.”

Many of the others start snickering around you. You turn to give them a mild glare. Warrior doesn’t seem to notice.

“Mama would like you. She likes pretty things.”

You have to bite your lip. “Thank you, sweetheart. That’s very kind of you.”

Hyrule

“My name is Link, what’s yours?” The small child looks up at you with a bright smile. Hyrule got hit with a magic blaster faster than you could call out to him and this was the being who stood in his place.

You stutter out your name with wide eyes. He giggles and adjusts the hat on his head. “That’s a pretty name. It’s nice meeting you. Goodbye.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” You dive to catch his arm. Your action startles him and you’re quick to let him go again. The others around you are equally as startled but offer you no help. You try to catch your breath, taking a knee to match his line of sight better. “Where are you going?”

The boy suddenly eyes you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Why are you alone?” You ask him instead. “It’s not safe to go alone.”

He hums and kicks the dirt under his foot with his toe. “But I’m always alone.”

“They’re right though.” Four offers a little assistance. “It’s not safe to go alone. Do you know how to use a sword?”

The child looks a little uneasy. “...My aunts don’t want me to use a sword. They say that I have o get stronger first. My sisters try to keep me from using too much magic- but I’m really strong now! So I’ll be ok.”

You snap your fingers. “The fairies!” You turn to the others of the group. “Maybe they can help us fix this.”

The small boy takes a step back, clutching his hands over his chest. “I didn’t say fairies-”

“Are there any Great Fairies even nearby?” Legend runs his hands down his face. “It would take a lot to find them. Their fountains can be well hidden enough to avoid detection- not to mention the potential dangers that surround them.”

“We have to try.” You press on. “They might be strong enough to help him!”

Time takes a knee getting close to the child. “Do you know where they are?”

Tiny hands cover a tiny mouth. He shakes his head.

That’s...odd, you think to yourself. Hyrule wasn’t exactly open about it, but he didn’t try to his relationship with the fairies around his home. You tilt your head. “Well that’s ok if you don’t knw where they are. We can look them for them together.”

“You can’t.’ He whispers. He sounds scared suddenly. “I won’t tell you anything. I won’t let you hurt them!”

He turns to run away again but time grabs his arm again. this time he tries to fight back and Time is at a loss of what to do. You dive in, grabbing his legs as he starts to kick. “We’re not trying to hurt them!”

“Let me go!”

“We just need help!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Enough!” Time booms in what you can only call the angry dad voice. He holds the child close to his chest, keeping him off of the ground. Hyrule stops moving, but he begins to shake, little tears star coming down his face.

You let him go and start to dry his tears and lower your voice to be as comforting as possible. “No one is going to hurt them and no one is going to hurt you, ok? We have a problem and we just want to know if they can do something about it.”

You feel bad but you don’t want him to run off, especially since he’s not where he thinks he is. 

He sniffles and Time slowly lowers him to the ground again. “Better?”

Hyrule nods, pulling his hat over his face. He looks up at you with wide, wet eyes. “Promise.”

You hold out your pinky. “I promise.”

He copies your movement and nods. “If you hurt them-”

“We won’t.” You sigh. “Just stay with us for a little bit, ok? Just until our problem is fixed.”

Hyrule whines, stepping forward to hug you. You have no idea why or what’s going through his head, but you hug him back, rubbing what you hope are soothing circles on his back.

“I’ll be watching you.” He tries to sound threatening. “And not because you’re pretty.”

You have to bite back a snort. “Of course.”

[trashpandato]

Lunge and Parry

Just a short little thing that was inspired by this Tweet

---

Lena is thrilled. Thrilled and sweaty.

She hasn’t had to be on her toes this much against an opponent in a long time and she’s enjoying every second of it. It’s not a big surprise; this is the championship bout after all, so the woman currently advancing on her would have had to win against top notch fencers in the tournament to get to this point. 

Lena isn’t very familiar with her. Kara Danvers is her name and as far as Lena knows, she hasn’t been fencing competitively for very long, or else their paths would surely have crossed a few times already. The world of fencing is small, and even smaller once you get to the level where they are at, competing for one of the few remaining spots on the Olympic fencing team.

Either way, Lena isn’t about to let some newbie beat her. She’s worked too hard for this, and Lillian likes to remind her of that every chance she gets, like now, when she yells at Lena from the sidelines while Lena works to parry Kara’s current attack.

“That was pathetic,” she hears her mother scoff. “I’ve paid your coaches thousands of dollars and this is the best you can manage?”

Lena tries to tune her out as she bounces backwards on her feet. Kara’s fencing style is aggressive. It’s effective, the score is close, but Lena sees that Kara is a little bit reckless at times, and she’s been scoring points off defensive moves more than she usually does in her bouts.

It works. She’s up 12-9 and there are less than 30 seconds left. Lena figures she can goad Kara into one or two more lunges and either avoid contact or score her own points off a defensive thrust. It’s an uphill battle for her opponent, and Kara is likely to go all in on her offense in an attempt to even up the score.

It’s a solid strategy, defend her lead and win. But then, as she takes a quick step back in the wake of Kara lunging at her, Lena’s right knee buckles. She hears a pop and loses her balance. As soon as her back hits the piste, Lena feels excruciating pain shoot up her leg, and she knows immediately that it’s bad. 

Then a few things happen all at once. Lena focusses on her breathing and on trying to muffle the sounds she is making. She doesn’t want to cry, not here, not in front of everyone, but the pain in her leg is beyond anything she’s ever felt before, and she can’t help but let out small whimpers as she tries to roll onto her side. Then, her coach is there, helping her pull her helmet off. He is asking her questions that barely register, and Lena tries to hold in a yelp when he touches her leg. But the thing that captures most of her attention is her opponent, Kara, who is kneeling down next to her with a deeply concerned frown on her face.

“Get up,” Lillian hisses from somewhere behind Lena. “Luthors aren’t quitters.”

Lena clenches her jaw. She doesn’t really see the point of trying to finish the bout. Even if she is able to get up and stand, she knows she can’t fence properly with her knee in its current state. There are still 20 seconds left and Kara would have no problem scoring enough points to win. If she stays down and forfeits, Kara wins, too. Either way, it’s over for Lena.

“Do you think you can continue?” Her coach asks.

As much as Lena wants to yell no and tell both him and Lillian to fuck off, she knows she’ll never hear the end of it if she gives up now. Lillian is going to spend the next twenty years reminding her that she’s a disgrace to the Luthor name, too weak, too soft. Maybe she can try and hobble on one leg for 20 seconds and maybe, just maybe it’ll be enough.

Lena nods. She’s not sure she can speak at this point, so she sticks to glaring at her mother and shifting around a bit to let her coach hook his arm under her right shoulder to help her up. When she wobbles immediately, Lena feels a second set of hands on her. Her head snaps around and she’s met with a very close-up view of blonde hair, tan skin and vibrant blue eyes.

“Careful,” Kara says as she helps Lena to her feet and lets her lean against her for balance for a few seconds.

It’s only when Kara is sure that Lena can stand on her own that she lets go, and Lena immediately misses how steady her hands felt on her body. They lock eyes and Kara asks:

“You sure you want to finish the bout?”

Lena isn’t sure. She can’t put any of her weight on her right leg at all, and the throbbing pain is so distracting that she completely misses her coach’s instructions for what to do now. But she nods anyway. She doesn’t think she has much of a choice. She’ll try to stay upright and maybe, with some luck, she can stay out of the way of Kara’s attacks long enough to maintain her lead. It’s 20 seconds. All she has to do is get through 20 seconds.

Kara nods back at Lena and then, just before she slips her helmet back on, Lena thinks she spots a small smile on her opponent’s face. Her stomach sinks. Kara isn’t stupid. She’s a talented fencer. She’ll know how to outmaneuver a severely limited Lena with ease to score enough points to win three times over. And that smile on Kara’s face tells Lena all she needs to know. Kara is probably already planning her victory celebration.

Lena sighs, puts her helmet on and hobbles into position. She can barely move. Anytime she jostles her right leg by hopping around on her left, the pain shooting up and down her body makes her feel dizzy. Even just keeping her balance enough to stay upright seems like an impossible challenge.

The referee tells them to get ready and Lena lifts her foil and her chin, and tries to drown out the run-on commentary coming from her mother. She knows she’s going to lose, but she can at least try and keep her pride intact. 

“Allez,” the referee tells them and Lena hobbles backwards to put distance between herself and Kara. Her main strategy now is to stay out of her way as much as possible.

Kara, as she has done throughout the bout, bounces on her feet and gets into position to lunge. Lena braces herself for the attack but then Kara simply bounces backwards, toward her end of the piste. Lena is confused. It could very well be a set up for a running attack, one where Kara needs more space to generate momentum, but it’s not something she’s seen Kara do before. Still, she tries to set her feet as much as possible to give herself a chance to dodge whatever move Kara has planned.

But nothing happens. Kara continues to bounce on her feet far away from Lena. Her foil is up and ready but it doesn’t look like she’s going to approach at all. Lena can hear Lillian’s voice, biting and loud as always, but she can’t hear what her mother is saying. She is too focussed on Kara and the fact that she’s not attacking at all.

And then the buzzer signals that time’s up, that the bout is over.

Lena moves towards Kara. She’s on autopilot, hobbling two steps but before she can even reach the middle of the piste to shake her opponent's hand, Kara is there, pulling her into a hug that Lena knows is meant to be congratulatory but ends up feeling more like something else. Kara is a bit taller than her, her shoulders broader, and in that moment, Lena feels cocooned and safe even as her thoughts oscillate between confusion, elation and irritation.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lena snaps.

They’re still hugging and Lena doesn’t intend to let go anytime soon, but the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

She feels more than hears Kara chuckle. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have let me win.”

Lena expects Kara to pull away, to tell her to go fuck herself. It’s what she would do if their roles were reversed. Instead, Kara only hugs her more tightly and even presses a soft kiss to Lena’s forehead before she pulls back a little to look at her.

“You won fair and square,” Kara tells her with a smile on her face before pulling Lena back against her body, one hand gently cradling the back of Lena’s head.

The whole moment feels like an out-of-body experience to Lena. They’re competitors who barely know each other, and here she is in Kara’s arms like they’re best friends. Kara even kissed her fucking forehead. A part of Lena wants to pull away and ask her what the hell her deal is, but something about this moment feels too good to fight it. 

So Lena doesn’t.

“Will you let me buy you a drink,” Lena asks and her voice is muffled because her face is still pressed against Kara’s shoulder. “To make it up to you.”

There’s another chuckle and then Kara takes a careful step back but holds Lena up with firm hands on her upper arms.

“Let’s get your knee sorted out first, okay?”

And just like that the spell between them is broken. Lena sees her coach approach her, and somewhere behind him are two EMTs who are pushing a wheelchair towards her. Lillian is there, too, of course, barking instructions at the EMTs to take Lena to Lakeview Hospital, even though that’s on the other side of the city, but Lena knows the Luthors have connections to several surgeons there.

In the flurry of activities around her, Kara disappears out of view as soon as Lena is helped into the wheelchair. Lena is sure she won’t see her again, at least not for a while. Fencing will likely be out of the question for a few months until her injury heals, and that’s pretty much all she knows about Kara, that she is a fencer. As she is pushed out of the building and into the back of the waiting ambulance, the door closes with a loud bang. Lena tries not to cry.

Lillian’s connections and large donations to the hospital mean that Lena heads into surgery that very same evening. Both her ACL and MCL are shot, and while the surgeon manages to repair both, he tells her that recovery will take many months and a lot of hard work. It’s not something Lillian likes to hear.

“She can’t miss that much time. She’ll have to prepare for the Olympics.”

The drugs in Lena’s system allow her to doze off during the argument between her surgeon and Lillian that follows. 

When Lena wakes up the following morning, Lillian is gone and Lena is thankful. The nurse tells her that her mother had to take care of some business matters but would return after lunch, and Lena can’t help but hope that Lillian might stay away longer. Her hopes are dashed when she hears a small knock, but when she looks up, it’s not Lillian who is hovering in the doorway. 

It’s Kara.

“Hey.” 

Kara is holding a large bouquet of flowers and is sporting that same small smile that Lena saw the day before just as they were about to finish their bout.

“You came,” Lena says, her voice still a little drowsy from sleep and the pain medication. 

Kara grins and pushes off the doorframe. Lena watches as she comes closer and deposits the flowers into a pitcher of water that’s sitting on the small table next to her bed. She’s pretty sure the water was meant for her to drink, but she feels too mesmerized to say anything to Kara, who is now standing right next to her bed.

“I did. Is that alright?”

Lena’s eyes drift towards where Kara’s hip is leaning against her bed and without thinking, she shifts her hand and reaches out to touch Kara’s, loosely letting her fingers curl around a warm, soft palm.

“More than alright,” Lena manages to say even as her eyelids droop.

Kara laces their fingers together and squeezes.

“You should rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. I need you to be rested and lucid when I ask you for your number later.”

“Mhm,” Lena mumbles, barely awake. “I believe I asked you out first.”

That prompts a proper laugh, a sound that sends pleasant shivers down Lena’s spine.

“You did. You win.”

[lovejosephquinn]

slow sex with joe, but then he just says “fuck it” and goes all the way with breeding you 🤭🤭🤭🤭

My face when I read this simple yet smutty req:

Joe’s got his cock filling the tight space of your cunt, slow and soft strides from a half asleep stature because he woke up all horny and just had to be inside of you, right where he was only just a couple of hours ago. It just felt too good and he was obsessed with the way your soft walls clenched around him, the way you made him feel like he’d drifted off to heaven, the way he never wanted to rid this high.

He was almost laid on top of you, the only thing stopping him from completely crushing your body was the way he leans onto his forearms, his muscles flexing as he lifted up his stomach; giving more intense thrusts causing you to feel the base of it hitting your folds.

He moans into your ear in a quiet admission that this indeed felt amazing, pushing down into one side which hits your sweet spot frantically, he keeps it deep but continues to slam in harder, causing your own moans to seep out of your mouth from the the erotic and unhurried fuck.

Your orgasm is so close, the tip of his length pushing up onto your cervix. His words bringing you to the edge. “Fuck baby, you feel so good.” Your entrance gapes at his response and your stomach tightens, the ball of pleasure inside of you becoming explosive when his lips find your neck, attacking it passionately, nibbling and tonguing motions devouring the body part, leaving a lovely marked bruise right in the centre.

Your slick runs down his cock, dripping outward and onto his balls, coating them with a glossy tone, your beautiful climax sends you into a eurythmic state of mind, your throat singing whimpers creating a melody that is now his favourite tune.

Joe’s hips become unsteady when you push your head up to meet his ear. His eyes that were squeezed shut flash open when he listens out for your words.

“Faster. Fuck me Joe.”

Joe groans fiercely, he didn’t need you to ask twice. You lay back down when Joe sits up fully onto his knees, gripping his fingers against your legs and pulling them up onto his shoulder, using them as leverage as he smirks a wicked grin.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” It’s like your words snapped something inside of him and he was now going at what felt like 100 miles an hour, breeding you into a frenzy. Not taking his sweet time but simply claiming your cunt by ramming his cock at a rapid pace.

“I’m not stopping until you cum again. Shit.” His thumb reaches down and begins to rub your clit, causing the ache to greaten when he deepens the friction; creating such a rhythm into it with the way his hips buck up into you. His cock was leaking hefty amounts, his swollen tip throbbing for release.

You scream his name when your second orgasm washes over you, your toes almost grip onto the side of his curls and the entirety of your back lifts in pleasure like it’s being ripped from you without warning.

“Yeah that’s it, such a good girl for me.” Joe snaps his hips into you one last time before an ungodly sound unleashes itself from his throat, his eyes rolling back into his head and his fingers almost seeping through your skin the way they’re holding on for dear life. His seed spewing inside of you, using your cunt to milk himself until he’s completely spent, his thrusts slowing again but he rides out his length deep inside you moving against your walls for the next minute or so, the pleasure too complex to put into words, yet he wants it to last forever.

[raccoonfallsharder]

I just found out Rockets VA can sing (really good actually) do you have any headcanons based on that?

mmmmm. sorry for the delay, i got distracted by rocket prompt week and also by thinking about rocket crooning in your ear.

he’s always humming, you know? (this is not a headcanon — it’s in the movies.) he’s often humming while he works. and that scene on berhert? where he’s sort of purring along with the music while plotting severe injury to the incoming ravagers? i…

sorry. focusing.

im sure the first few times you hear him mumbling lyrics under his breath, you damn near need to excuse yourself. you know you can’t call attention to it — in a best-case scenario, he'll stop singing entirely. you say nothing, and your silence is rewarded: rocket's mumbling a tune — so low your toes curl in your boots — almost whenever the two of you are working quietly on some project or another. most of the time, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. the rest of the time, he thinks you can’t hear him.

once, while the entire crew was dicking around in the common room and rocket started humming under his breath, pete had commented on it. you'd shot him a murderous look but it had been too late: rocket’s ears had gone flat and his tail had tucked between his ankles and his eyes had swiveled around the room. he'd been shifting and snapping out harsh words so frantically that you were sure he was scarlet under his fur. you’d had to go a miserable dozen cycles before you’d stumbled across him lilting low to himself again in the engine room one night.

fuckin pete. you still haven’t forgiven that guy.

but things get easier — at least between you and rocket — after that. there's a day when rocket looks up and realizes that you can hear him — maybe you're swaying slightly to the sound of his voice, or lightly tapping the soft pads of your fingertips like raindrops on your knee. he stumbles to a fumbling halt. you don’t say anything, though: you just pass him an encouraging half-smile before returning to whatever you were doing. you’ll hang out with him regardless of whether you get to lull yourself to the sound of his deep, pretty voice or not, you figure.

it happens again — and then again. and eventually, rocket stops stopping. he sees you walk into the otherwise-empty common area while he’s clanging away on some new cannon, or you slide into the seat next to him while he’s piloting the bowie alone — and he tosses you a little smirk and keeps going, keeps humming those bars or rumbling those words up over his ribs and out the corners of his mouth.

you’re not the first person he’s sung to, of course.

there’s a reason groot loves music. when he was just a sprout, rocket would carefully place groot's small pot right next to where he lay his own head, and he’d croon a lullaby from star-lord’s library of songs. this was how the little flora colossus first learned to fall asleep — and how he woke up — every rotation for the first dozen cycles of his life. even when groot got a little bigger and could leave his pot and run around chasing orloni, he’d still drift off sprawled on rocket’s shoulder or across the top of his head: dozing to the sound of his father clinking away on aero-rigs while humming some melody or another.

even before that — i think rocket probably sung to groot the elder, too, at least once or twice. maybe the first time rocket had seen the big guy lose his limbs, before he'd learned that they would grow back. rocket had promised tibius lark that he’d look out for the flora colossus, and now here's groot — mutilated and in pain. rocket had tried to soothe the groaning, moaning groot to sleep, wracked by guilt before eventually realizing the big idiot was just a giant frickin’ crybaby with limbs that would essentially regenerate.

still, rocket hadn’t minded singing to his friend too much after that.

maybe even earlier, too. maybe there had been a time, after explaining music to his cagemates but before telling them about flying machines. maybe he’d hummed for batch 89 too.

they would’ve thought his childish voice was the most comforting, lovely thing they’d ever heard, i think. sometimes, as you might guess, the members of batch 89 would have nightmares or be in too much pain to close their eyes and rest, and when those nights happened, rocket would have hummed them back to sleep, all low and slow and sweet.

floor would have begged for songs every chance she got. teefs would have marveled at how beautiful rocket had sounded, and lylla — lylla would have told him, very solemnly, that he had a gift.

rocket doesn't think about that very often — tries not to think about those days at all, if he's being honest — but eventually, as you know, his past comes out. it's long after he’s gotten comfortable with you, of course — and raised his son, and saved half the universe, and purchased the skull of a god, and freed himself from the high evolutionary for the last time, and become a captain, but now—

now, he remembers lylla's words.

the star children descend from the arête and different households try to take them in, but it only takes one or two failed sleep-shifts across all of knowhere before it becomes apparent that none of the kids can rest. the children have nightmares — of course they do — and they’re used to sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder with each other in cages, on hard floors. they're used to whispering stories and comforts to each other, listening gratefully to the quiet words of their siblings, small hands gripping small hands in the darkness.

it takes a while to figure out, but eventually arrangements are made — at least until the kids can adjust. spaces are shifted so the children can nest together, and it helps — mostly. drax tries telling stories. cosmo recommends warm milk. howard suggests a quarter-shot of ginsky for each kid (you promptly put the kibosh on that one). nebula comes one night to tell the kids in great detail how she’ll destroy anyone who dares to harm them. you’re so happy mantis went on her journey to find herself but sometimes, when you see how exhausted and hollow-eyed the kids are in the morning, you just wish she were back so she could help them sleep.

and then suddenly it's a few cycles later, and you realize you haven’t heard any more concerns about the kids’ night terrors. you look around and realize they’re bright-eyed again, cheeks glowing, chattering at breakfast. curious as to what ended up working — if it was the indigarran lavender satchets sent by one of kraglin’s ex-wives or it it was the broker boring them with the droning details of the histories of various artifacts he’d once had in his shop on Xandar — you come visiting one night on tip-toe, just to check in.

rocket’s there — curled up on an old armchair someone had brought in for the neverending parade of storytellers and caregivers. his voice rolls over the sleepy children, and their eyelashes droop while he lingers on some notes and skips up and down others. the sound of it curls around them — and you. his voice nestles into the shadows, practically plucking up the edges of the blankets and tucking the kids in all on its own.

you watch as, handful after handful, they drift: eased deeply into dreaming by the power and protection of the captain’s voice, all on its own.

[silvercap]

OOOOOH OOH OOH!!!! 'Up walking around when they're sick and should be in bed' please! ;u;

Alright ;) (Prompts)

Leon's too hot. He can feel his body burning as he groans and thrashes into awareness against sweat-soaked sheets, breaths ragged and short as he pants for air. His entire body feels like it's been dipped in ice water, chills drawing goosebumps to the surface of his skin despite how nauseatingly warm the rest of him is. His underwear clings to him with a layer of uncomfortably warm dampness beneath the thin bedsheet, a lukewarm cloth on his forehead offering the same miserably tepid attempt at relief. Leon groans, flinching when it spikes the headache crawling around the base of his skull.

It takes a moment to recognize the bedroom around him as his own, all soft mattress and the lamp he liked at the thrift store, the fan overhead twirling lazily in the stagnant air. He makes himself sit up, blinking away spots. He could really use a glass of water right now, and maybe the fan could be turned up. He's not sure where the fancy remote is, though, Piers probably has it somewhere on his side of the room---which is much too far away for Leon to want to crawl over there. He sighs heavily.

It's harder to walk than he remembers it being, knees trembling as he staggers upright with a mighty push away from the bed and tries to remember how to breathe evenly. The change in posture makes known the ice cubes bobbing through the liquid fire in his blood, a shiver running down his spine and tingling in his toes. Leon moans pathetically, colliding with the doorframe to the room for support. Not too far left to the kitchen, now, but it feels like he's already walked miles. He steadies himself for a moment, then pushes on, sweat beading on his forehead.

He's almost to the end of the hallway when a figure appears at the corner, Leon's muscles going weak as he jolts in surprise. His hands are shaking, vision slightly blurry, and the cry of shock and horror that meets his ears makes him flinch. Did he do something wrong? A split-second later, Piers is pulling him into a hug, broad shoulders the perfect place for Leon to rest his sweaty forehead on as he gasps for air and shudders convulsively.

"Leon, baby," Piers murmurs, voice pitched low and soft like he's trying not to frighten him despite the evident concern curling the edges of his tone. "You should not be out of bed!"

Leon scowls. "Why not? 's fine, I'm thirsty," he says, the effort of speaking enough to make his head spin. His voice doesn't quite sound right, either, too breathy and distantly dazed to belong to him. He grunts, a wave of lightheadedness buckling his knees. Piers catches him tightly with arms around his back and a muttered curse, a faint whimper of distress breaking through Leon's control. Why does he feel so awful?

Why can't he seem to stand upright?

"Shh," Piers soothes, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Leon's head. His lips are warm, and Leon craves the contact, pressing closer as he tries and fails to regain his footing. Someone guides his arm around a pair of strong shoulders, a sudden shift in position leaving Leon to figure out where Piers went. He's not thinking straight, he recognizes distantly, but eventually he comes to the conclusion that Piers is the one holding him up with another arm around his waist as he limps back towards the bedroom.

"Let's get you back to bed," he hums, Leon's eyelids fluttering shut to the sweet tune of his voice. "You need your rest."