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slu7formen · 29 days

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I heard you were sad about the lack of Luke asks, so l've decided to try and help! Bare with me bc this might not be the best considering I'm think on the spot and its late over here so feel free to delete!

So, reader was with Luke when he was running away with Annie and Thalia so they're really close. Then, when her and Luke were like 16 or smth reader left on a quest and its been like 2 years so its assumed that she just failed and died on her quest. This ruined Luke bc he loved her and one night, maybe at the bonfire, he hears reader screaming his name somewhere in the foresty part of camp, just absolutely terrified. He finds her and shes hurt, I'm talkin reallyyy messed up like a massive gash across her eye, (matching scar awww) leavin her like half blind, huge claw marks, teeth marks, and other wounds. He carries her to the infirmary, shes prob passed out at this point from like blood loss. Anyways, she finally wakes up in the infirmary and a bunch of fluff ensues, yk the usual "Don't ever leave me again" "I thought you were dead" the fun stuff and obv they confess to each other! (also, is 🖤 taken?)

whoever made this request, it was so good, you’re evil and brilliant; thank you 🖤

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: wounds, injuries, blood mention, presumed death, luke being heartbroken (sorry), crying

reminder: english's not my first language so l apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

Every morning, Luke woke with the same dull ache in his chest, a constant reminder of the gaping hole your absence had left in him. It was a hollow ache, a physical manifestation of the loneliness that had become his unwelcome company. Nine years old when he ran away, the world had been a harsh teacher, but three years later, when he found you, that harshness had softened, replaced by a fierce protectiveness. You, a scared, twelve-year-old with defiance blazing in your eyes and a meager weapon in hand, had become his anchor in the storm.

The streets had been a cruel way of living, but together, you and Luke had forged a bond stronger than steel. You were the same age, yet he was older by a few months, a difference that somehow granted him a silent responsibility for your safety. Thalia and Annabeth, two more lost souls swept up in the world of their demigod destinies, completed their unbalanced family. But it was you and Luke, the two eldest, who shared a silent language of understanding that went beyond words. You fought together, scavenged together, your backs against the world.

The arrival of Grover, a satyr reeking of panic, brought relief and a terrifying truth— you weren't alone. The hunt for demigods was real, and you were all in danger.

Fourteen. A year etched in his memory with the sharp point of a spear. The monsters, the desperate fight, Thalias selfless sacrifice, the agonizing transformation into the pine tree — the events played on a loop in his mind. Camp Half-Blood, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a bittersweet prison. He had you by his side then, a hand to grip in the darkness, a silent understanding in your shared gaze.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be there, by his side, facing challenges and forging a future together. He replayed the memory of your first quest announcement on a loop. The fear in his gut, a slap in the face of his fierce protectiveness. He wasn't supposed to lose you.

It wasn't fair. It shouldn't have been you, alone, facing whatever monstrous fate had befallen you. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he replayed the day you left. The forced cheer, the worry that gnawed at him, all a blur now. Training became a way to numb the ache, each swing of his sword carrying a silent plea for your sate return. But as days turned into months, the hope that had fueled him began to fade away.

News traveled slow in the demigod world, but eventually, rumors reached Camp Half-Blood. Whispers of a monstrous encounter, a lost trail, a silence that stretched too long. A year after your departure, the whispers solidified into a grim reality - you were missing, presumed dead.

Luke felt the world tilt on its axis. Denial battled with a cold, horrifying truth. You were gone.

A quest, a single solitary mission, had stolen you from him. Stolen your laughter, your warmth, your presence that had become an essential part of his world. It wasn't fair.

The quest for the Golden Apple had been a cruel twist of fate. A desperate attempt to appease his father, to offer a sliver of hope to a camp drowning in sadness, it had backfired spectacularly. Luke returned empty-handed, his body wracked with exhaustion and his spirit battered. But the most visible reminder of his failure was the jagged scar that ran from beneath his eye down to his chin, a pale testament to the dragon's fury.

He'd needed your presence then more than ever. Needed your steady gaze and the quiet strength you possessed. Needed the spark of defiance in your eyes that mirrored his own growing anger towards a world that had seemed so determined to tear them apart. He needed your touch, your hugs, he needed you.

He stood stiffly before your burial shroud, an image carved in his memory forever. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unchecked. He ignored the concerned glances of his friends, focusing only on the phantom warmth of your hand in his, a memory more vivid than anything else.

In that moment, ravaged by grief, a single truth burned bright — he loved you. And he had lost you. The world felt a little emptier, a little colder, without you by his side.

And the first nights after you left were the worst.

At first, they were hopeful visions. He'd see you, alone on a dusty road, tending to a nasty gash on your arm with a makeshift bandage. A surge of worry would course through him, a familiar anxiety honed by years on the streets. But then, a wry smile would tug at his lips as he remembered the countless times he'd taught you how to create a tourniquet, how to patch a wound and survive on the bare minimum. A flicker of confidence, a belief in your resourcefulness, would chase away the initial fear. He just knew you'd find a way back to him.

He'd wake with a jolt, his hand instinctively reaching for the empty space beside him. The sheets were cold, the air thick with the silence of your absence. But then, a flicker of hope would ignite— you were alive, you were out there.

Finally, the dreams turned into nightmares. You'd appear, but not the way he remembered you. Pale and gaunt, your eyes hollow and vacant. Sometimes, you'd be chased by monstrous shadows, their grotesque forms dissolving into a chilling whisper of your name. These dreams left him gasping for breath, his heart hammering against his ribs.

It had been a little over a year since the agonizing ceremony, the image of your burial shroud seared into his memory. But time, a supposed healer, offered no solace. In reality, it had stretched the fact of your absence even wider. Two years. Two years since he'd last seen your smile, heard your voice, felt the warmth of your hand in his.

"Luke!"

Ah, yes. He heard you sometimes. At first, it happened while he was alone; he believed it could be you, trying to contact him in some way, but it never was that way. He never found you. Then he started hearing your voice in crowded places, mistaking your voice for the ones of other campers, and his heart ached every time he realized it wasn't you.

He felt like he was going insane. Hearing you, even after years. He must be going mad. But then, it became clearer.

"Luke!"

The voice, barely audible above the crackling flames, cut through his thoughts like a knife. He froze, his hand tightening around the thin stick that held his burned marshmallow. Was it-? No. It couldn't be. He must be imagining things again.

The grief, the pain, he knew, could play tricks on the mind.

He brushed it off, attempting to rejoin the conversation, forcing a lightness to his voice that felt hollow. But then, it came again. Clearer this time, tinged with a desperate urgency.

"Luke!? Luke!"

The single word, laden with a desperate urgency, pierced through his defenses. He froze, his blood turning to ice. It was your voice. The same voice that filled his dreams and haunted his waking hours. He whipped his head around, searching the darkened forest beyond the fire's reach.

But the trees stood silent, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. Nothing. Yet, the echo of your voice lingered in the air, a chilling reminder of the impossible. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic drum against his ribs.

He glanced around the fire, catching the bewildered expressions of a few campers who had clearly heard the voice too. Their eyes mirrored the confusion and fear that clawed at him. If he said anything, they'd think he'd cracked, that the pain had finally driven him mad.

"Luke!"

But it was you.

Your voice, unmistakable and undeniably real. A wave of disbelief washed over him, followed by a surge of hope so intense it threatened to suffocate him.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the surprised yelps of his friends as he knocked over a tray of steaming hot cocoa cups. Stumbling over his own feet, he charged towards the edge of the forest, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He skidded to a halt just inside the treeline, his eyes scanning the darkness. "yn!?" he called out, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and desperate hope. The only reply was the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

It was cloaked in darkness, making it impossible to discern any details. But there was a smallness, a fragility to its silhouette that resonated with his memory of you.

Just as doubt began to creep back in, another call pierced the silence. "Luke!" This time, the desperation in your voice was unmistakable.

He didn't hesitate any longer. "yn!" he roared, his voice raw with emotion as he launched himself into a run.

Several campers, roused by the commotion, scrambled to their feet, their eyes wide with confusion and trepidation. They watched, mouths agape, as Luke bolted towards the treeline, his long strides eating away at the distance.

"Luke!" Your voice came again, closer this time, tinged with a note of panic.

"yn!" He didn't dare slow down, his heart making its way up to his mouth. He could hear the sound of others following him, their footsteps pounding on the soft earth behind him.

Through the dense foliage, he caught a glimpse of your figure — small, hunched over, moving with a limp. Hope flared bright within him, battling the tide of fear that threatened to drown him.

Then, you stumbled, nearly falling. He redoubled his efforts, pushing himself to the limit. As he broke through the last line of trees, he saw you standing there, bathed in the pale moonlight.

And his breath hitched in his throat.

The sight of you, once vibrant and full of life, was a punch to the gut. Dirt and grime smeared your face, your clothes were ripped and tattered, and a sheen of sweat covered your brow. But it was the wounds that stole his breath away. Deep claw marks raked across your arms, a bloody gash marred your leg, and the most horrifying of all — a massive scar stretched across your eye, a brutal reminder of some unseen battle. The campers behind him gasped in unison, their faces etched with shock and horror.

Chiron, alerted by the commotion, pushed his way through the crowd, his brow furrowed in concern.

But your focus was solely on Luke. With a desperate cry of his name, you lurched towards him, your injured leg buckling beneath you. Without hesitation, Luke launched himself forward, catching you in his arms just before you hit the ground.

"Luke..." you whispered, your voice barely a breath. Your eyes, the one that wasn't obscured by the wound, flickered with a spark of relief and a hint of something else - a deep, unspoken emotion that mirrored his own.

Then, your eyelids fluttered closed, and your body went limp in his arms. Panic surged through him as he cradled you closer, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and relief. " yn? No, no, no, no, yn?" he slightly slapped your cheek, no response. He looked back to to the campers that decided to follow him, his voice cracking with desperation. "Get the Apollo cabin, now!"

The days that followed your arrival were shrouded in a suffocating silence. The once vibrant camp seemed to echo with a collective held breath. No one dared to talk to Luke.

His eyes, once playful and sparkly, now held a deep, smoldering anger. He snapped at anyone who dared to approach. Only Chiron, with his patient wisdom, Annabeth, with her loyalty, and the healers of Apollo cabin, sworn to secrecy about your condition, were able to pierce the storm raging within him.

Each day, a relentless routine unfolded. Luke would rise with the first rays of dawn, his body heavy with the weight of his own despair. He'd force down a meager breakfast, the taste turning to ash in his mouth. Then, with a heart that felt like a lead weight in his chest, he'd make the agonizing trek to the Big House, the temporary haven where you resided. He would do it multiple times a day, actually.

Lee, the son of Apollo with a mop of messy blonde hair and eyes that held a touch of empathy, would greet him at the door, a practiced neutrality masking his concern. The answer was always the same. You were alive. The healers had managed to stabilize you. But your recovery was a slow, painful journey. The wounds you bore were a testament to a harrowing pain, and the care they had taken on your body was immense.

As soon as you had fainted in his arms, you had slipped into unconsciousness. No amount of coaxing, no whispered pleas from the healers, or songs in Ancient Greek, could bring you back. Luke was devastated. The relief of having you back, a physical presence after two agonizing years, was a fragile flame quickly extinguished by the reality of your condition. Your life hung by a thread, and he was kept at arm's length.

One particularly bleak afternoon, Luke found himself face-to-face with Chiron. The old centaur, his kind eyes reflecting the turmoil swirling within Luke, gestured for him to sit.

"Luke," Chiron began, his voice soft yet firm, "I understand your pain. Your worry for yn is valid and understandable. But you must also understand, her condition is delicate"

Luke clenched his fists, his jaw tightening with suppressed anger. "Why can't I see her? Annabeth's younger than me and yet, she gets to see her. Why not me?" The words tumbled out, laced with a raw desperation.

Chiron sighed, a weary sound. "Because, Luke," he said, his voice heavy with empathy, "we fear the emotional toll it might take on you if-, if the worst were to happen."

He slumped in his chair, defeated. Grief, anger, and a gnawing helplessness battled within him.

"How long then?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "How long will it be before I can see her again?"

Chiron reached out, placing a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. "We don't know, Luke" he said honestly. "But the healers are doing their best And you need to find your strength. She will need it when she wakes up”

He nodded dumbly, understanding Chiron's concern for him. But that didn't make the gnawing ache in his chest any less agonizing. He missed you. Missed the warmth of your hand in his, the light that sparkled in your eyes, the way your laughter could chase away even the darkest shadows.

A few days later, he walked by the Big House again. Lee greeted him again, just as every other day.

"How is she?" Luke asked.

Lee sighed, a gust of exasperation tinged with sympathy. He looked tired himself, dark circles under his eye and a large cup of coffee in his hand. "Little change. But she's stable. Stronger than she looks. We had some healers fainting because of how much singing they've done to her"

A muscle ticked in Luke's jaw. "Can't I at least see her?" The words came out harsher than he intended, dripping with frustration.

Lee studied him for a long moment, his own blue eyes reflecting the turmoil within Luke. Finally, he spoke. "Look, I get it. You're scared, you're angry. But you have to understand, seeing her likes this... we can't let you"

Luke clenched his fists. "I can handle it" he growled, the beast within him straining against its leash.

Lee took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Can you, Luke? Can you handle the possibility that maybe she doesn't get to wake up?"

The question hung in the air, a brutal truth that stripped away Luke's bravado. He stared at Lee, the anger draining away, replaced by a raw vulnerability that surprised even him. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat suddenly making it hard to breathe.

"No" he whispered, the single word a confession of his deepest fear.

Lee nodded, a flicker of understanding softening his features. "Then trust us, Luke. Trust the healers. We're doing everything we can."

And then he remember Chiron's words. He knew he was right. He couldn't bear the thought of the last image of you being one of unconsciousness, a pale specter in a sterile infirmary bed.

The days that followed settled into a grim routine. Luke stopped asking the relentless question, 'Did she wake up?' The answer, etched into his weary soul, was a constant ache that no words could soothe. He had stopped arguing, the initial burst of rebellion replaced by a quiet desperation. He started asking more specific questions, focusing on the details of your injuries. Your eye, the massive gash that mirrored his own scar in a way that made his stomach churn, became a particular point of morbid fascination.

He couldn't bear to look at the jagged mark on his face, couldn't imagine how it felt on yours.

Not because he thought you wouldn't be beautiful —he knew you would be. But the thought of you facing the same constant reminder of pain, of vulnerability, filled him with a protective rage that simmered beneath the surtace.

But then, a shift began to occur. He noticed stolen glances exchanged between the Apollo campers, hushed whispers that died down as soon as he entered their vicinity. An unspoken secret they guarded fiercely. He tried to ignore it, burying himself in training, seeking solace in the familiar sting of sweat and exertion. Chiron's words were a constant drumbeat in his head - seeing you too soon, on the precipice of death, was a burden he might not bear.

But later that day, as the sun dipped below the horizon casting the camp in an orange glow, Chiron sought him out. Luke braced himself, his heart plummeting into his stomach. His mind spun with a thousand morbid possibilities.

He met Chiron's gaze, a storm brewing in his own eyes. "What is it?" he rasped, voice breaking.

Chiron took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Luke's with a solemn intensity. "Luke," he began, his voice thick with a mix of trepidation and hope, "she's awake."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis again. The air whooshed out of Luke's lungs, leaving him breathless. For a moment, he could only stare, his mind struggling to process the simple, life-altering statement.

Then he ran.

His feet pounded a trantic rhythm against the dusty path, each step fueled by a desperate need to see you. Chiron's protests, if there were any, were lost in the roar of blood rushing in his ears. He wouldn't be denied this. Not now. His legs pumped like pistons, fueled by a desperate hope that threatened to shatter him if it turned out to be false. He burst through the doors of the Big House, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. The interior was deserted, the silence amplifying the frantic pounding of his heart.

He flung open the infirmary door, the sight inside momentarily stealing his breath. Two Apollo campers stood by the window, their hushed whispers abruptly cut short by his arrival.

But his eyes were locked on you, the very image of him defying the cruelty of fate.

You sat on the bed, a fragile silhouette bathed in the pale light, your head bent over your bandaged hands. Your hair, once a fiery mane, had grown longer, a testament to the time that had passed for him in a blur of grief. Your skin, usually kissed by the sun, was a pale canvas.

He took everything in — the fresh cuts marring your arms, the claw marks, the way your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. And you had lifted your head, startled by the sudden noise.

Your eyes, usually sparkling with life, were dull with pain, but when they met his, a spark ignited within them.

"Luke!"

The word ripped from your throat, a cry that echoed with relief and a tremor of something deeper. You lunged off the bed, ignoring the wince that contorted your face as your injured leg protested.

"yn, wait!" Lee sprang forward, concern etched on his face. Your stitches, particularly those on your thigh, were still fresh, and any sudden movement could cause them to tear.

But you didn't listen. You threw yourself at Luke, your arms wrapping around him with a desperation that mirrored his own. He caught you, the impact sending a jolt through his body. His arms tightened around you, a desperate need to hold on, to feel you solid against him.

He held you tight, the fierce possessiveness in his grip both a comfort and a warning. Your body, the way you fit so perfectly against his larger frame, sent a jolt through him. He'd grown, you realized, his broad shoulders feeling wider, his embrace stronger. In contrast, you felt impossibly small, the warrior you remembered replaced by a shell of the person you once were. His hot tears quickly started to wet your hair.

The sudden weakness in your leg, the one that had been screaming in protest since you lunged at him, finally overwhelmed you. A sharp cry escaped your lips as your body gave way beneath you. Instinctively, Luke tightened his grip, his arms morphing into a cradle to catch your fall.

The impact with the floor sent a fresh wave of pain shooting through you, but it was a dull ache compared to the overwhelming joy of finally being in his arms again. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Luke wouldn't stop sobbing now, his shoulder shaking as his arms held you into his embrace.

The Apollo campers, sensing the intimacy of the moment, mumbled apologies as they slipped out of the infirmary, leaving you and Luke alone.

He cradled you close, the scent of your hair and the warmth of your body a balm to his battered soul. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the familiar fragrance that had haunted his dreams for so long. It was real. You were real.

"You're alive" he sobbed, the words a broken mantra against your ear. "You're alive" he repeated. Each repetition wasn't just for you, but for him, a desperate attempt to convince himself that this wasn't a cruel dream, that you weren't an illusion.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hand, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw. The wounds looked clean now, stitched and bandaged, but the raw pain was etched in the lines around your eyes. The gash across your eye, a crimson scar angry and fresh, pulled at the corner of your eye, making it appear swollen and bruised. Yet, to him, you were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

It started a finger's width above your eyebrow, then, just as abruptly, it dipped down, catching the outer corner of your eye. The scar tissue pulled the delicate skin, making your eye appear slightly narrowed and bloodshot.

But despite the rawness of the wound, despite the vulnerability etched on your face, there was something undeniably fierce about you. It was a look he hadn't seen before, a look born from surviving the unthinkable.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, blurring your vision. You had always been beautiful, that much was undeniable. But now, even with a scar contrasting against your features, you were breathtaking.

He didn't mean to say it out loud, but the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

"You look beautiful" he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You leaned into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his hand. "It hurts" you whispered, a tear tracing a path down your cheek.

"I know" he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. He sniffed uncontrollably at your sight, so broken and fragile, wrapped around his arm. "But you're alive. You're here" his bottom lip started trembling before he could control it. He inhaled sharply and his voice came out shaky; "I thought you were dead" tears rolling down his cheeks.

You laughed, a weak sound that was more like a sob. "You won't get rid of me that easily"

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin. In that moment, the infirmary with its sterile smell and harsh light faded away. All that existed was the feel of you in his arms, the warmth of your body against his, and the knowledge that you were alive.

"Don't ever leave me again" he pleaded, his voice thick with a mix of relief and terror. The thought of losing you again, of facing another agonizing day without you, was almost unbearable.

"I wouldn't dream of it" you whispered.

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daze4all · 3 months

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Yandere HSR Blade, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan Characterization, NSFW & Aftercare

Destructive!Yandere! Blade -Bruises and Bitemarks

A true Yandere/Yandere blade is.

Destructive!Yandere! Blade Careless. Rough, he may hurt darling accidental.h not intentionally physical or emotionally with his blunt manner but filled with want and need “ I need you”

Destructive!Yandere! Blade Mara struck Madness mara in his eyes not again….

Destructive!Yandere! Blade An all-consuming flame as he devour you hungrily like a man dying of thirst

You cannot go a drug that soothe his weary soul.

A short lived being stretched to limit of life you are the spark that remind him of is softness and fragility. All that he once was abd craves to be again.

Destructive!Yandere! Blade Fear and need to control this relationship to go his way so you stay by his side scars from old relationship gone wrong .

Destructive!Yandere! Blade fueling his bad habit to strike first so he won’t be hurt again…only you would be ruined by his own hands before he could be runed by you….not knowing he had already

Destructive!Yandere! Blade Holding you too tight…you may break but his madness keeps himself form seeing this…

As long as, you stay by Destructive!Yandere! Blade side and are his light to his madness his singular obsession by his side and do not stray, he is content for a while. Like the soothing trill you calm the mara by your presence.

Destructive!Yandere! Blade NSFW SEX

Destructive!Yandere! Blade Grasping touches too hard hold as he treat you like a plushies in bed pressing you to his chest and under him so you cannot leave. Focusing on you to drown out the bussing mara of past memories.

Destructive!Yandere! Blade Pain and pleasure intermix during intimate love bites and bruise mark, full chomp, interspersed with scraping teeth to neck and grasping hands presses so hard they might bruise.

He has a preference for sinking his teeth at the back of your shoulders to see you hunched defeated submissive. To avoid seeing faces of the past and to only

Destructive!Yandere! Blade likes to see your back laid out to claim and dominate to lean his weight on when taking from the back…to not see your tears how annoying reminding him of his sins…why cannot you just want this like him? He’ll make you scream for it

Destructive!Yandere! Blade Sex is a hard sharp quick staccato rhythm of hips pain pleasure a punishment reward in one not deserving of you and yet wanting you all the same an overindulgence that ruin you both.

Aftercare. After clumsy attempt to soothe tend to wound with sane wrapping he used but without word just long loo and linher touh /. Complex emotion pride same rembeerance in his dulled cadles like eyes but intense burning. May lick tears from eyes.

After cuddles, He leans into you stick to your side and still and steady as a stone. He is wrapped around caged you cannot leave a heavy weight as blade acts like a permanent weight blanket that lulls you to sleep if you can.

Escape? Anyone who tries take you surely end up a dead bloody pulp . A red smear and blood bath should ensue if you leave. & you don’t wat that right ? so stay in him arms he’ll protect you from all harm.

You must pay the price for making him like this…

Possessive! Delusional! Dragon! Yandere Dan Heng

You are his light, brighter than the sun.

Yandere! Guard! Dan Heng Maintains respectful distance. Is formal and blushes and is easy to tease. He does not show public affection often but for grasps hand, so you don’t stray. He keeps you in close proximity so you don’t escape..

Yandere! Guard! Dan Heng He claims to you by interjecting with calm assurance you are his wife whenever introduced. That you need to be each other side at all times like a lovestruck newlywed couple.

Yandere! Guard! Dan Heng “ah this is my wife, we need to be by each other at all times we had scare at one of the last planets we visited..” He says smoothly without explanation that the scare was you getting away…

Yandere! Guard! Dan Heng He lingers close by right behind you and may brush brief lingering touches to remind you of his presence out of others sight.

Yandere! Guard! Dan Heng After every fight he inspect you concerned and guards you.

Yandere! Guard! Dan Heng Cold rage simmers below a placid surface and he is quick and precise in taking out any enemy that so much as scratches you. He doesn’t like to see you fight or get hurt. “Stay in the back I’ll keep you safe.”

Yandere! Guard! Dan Heng Rarely he may corner you from time to time against a wall when urges act up or he is annoyed you are being reckless not protecting yourself. Enough! don’t you see he is worried why are you hiding from him? He is trying to protect you. You are his only light, his mate so stay be his side please.

“Tch again….This is why you shouldn’t fight. I’ll take care of it” Angry annoyed at any other claim than he is sure to replace it later with his in the bedroom….and patch it up so no one sees but him…

Soft Side of Yandere! Dan Heng

Soft! Yandere! Dan Heng leans briefly against you to sleep or dozes off in your cabin on your lap pillows. He is clingy possessive in sleep cuddles close a tail wrapped around you so you cannot even get up for water without waking him.

Soft! Yandere! Dan Heng. He courts you with small gestures picks up pretty shells,flower coandies you may like in and stares until you savor them in front of him. Watching your every move intently.

Yandere! Guard! Dan Heng. guard of the express that’s only normal to keep eyes on your safety at all time and if you try to escape… he might cut in if you show any sign of slipping the truth or artfully turn the conversation around so no one notices…

Soft! Yandere! Dan Heng. A subtle yandere only in private he keeps you in line. He sees you as his mate and part of his hoard driven by draconic instinct, he is sometimes ashamed of.

Soft! Yandere! Dan Heng. He always provide aftercare yet somehow cannot let you go although he knows its best. He makes up with presents and gestures apologies and guilt you into staying with him.

Yandere! Dragon! Dan Heng However if you resist it irritates his dominance as dragon to show you are his mate but always patches you up after.

Sex with Yandere! Dan Heng

He has a preference for your neck to claim ,mark, lick and nuzzle. Where the blood pulses and make his intact run wild in this moment he can let free his draconic high elder form freeing him from his human visage. In private, the dragon emerges possessive protective hungry for you.

Yandere! Dragon! Dan Heng

Settled in his cabin he may take liberties. Claiming bites, rutting heat.

He may keep you in there for days to satiate the beast playing with tail, talon and teeth.

Not gentle dragon during rut but overwhelmed with pain and pleasure you may bedridden by the ordeal. Not one cam mistake that you are his.

Nesting He has draconic nesting of breeding and though impossible his instincts cry to tie you to him even with child. Though he doesn’t really want them to take your attention from him. It’d be hard surely to travel with one. Though he thinks you being motherly sweet to the kids and domestic caring for their nest would so nice instead of fighting him…

Escape? hah don’t even think of it. he broke you long ago. He keeps an eye at all times as fellow guard of the express you are by his side. He may even get countermeasure like ipc gadget to track you with gps …. A necklace perhaps a collar hmm discreet enough but a claim nonetheless.

If you escape, He’d hunt you down throughout the galaxy as the hunt sings through his veins

Obsessive! Yandere Jing Yuan

Sugar Daddy! Yandere Jing Yuan: Big bear hugs suffocating softness and sweet. A yandere to cater to every need and then some.

Sugar Daddy! Yandere Jing Yuan The type who’d buy out store of jewelry or dresses for his sweetheart to sweep them off their feet.

Sugar Daddy! Yandere Jing Yuan Sweet teasing gestures begging for more hiding the pervert he is for you behind the dirty thoughts and how touch starved he is for you.

Sugar Daddy! Yandere Jing Yuan. He is a soft yandere he wants to protect, provide and keep you safe in his mansion cuddled up with him.

Yandere Jing Yuan He may manipulate circumstance so you cannot leave but subtly emotionally so you may be guilted into staying of your own violation.

Yanqing guilts you with puppy eyes to stay and spars with you too late so you miss your flight per the generals secret orders.

“Oh no now there are problems that came up with your starkiff so you cannot fly away…” Sugar Daddy! Yandere Jing Yuan says sadly with a smirk

Obsessive! Yandere Jing Yuan He is clingy coming ever closer leaning over hand over shoulder waist linger waiting to strike lean in closer touches ghosting your wrist or elbow.

Obsessive! Yandere Jing Yuan He’d like to do more but wait ease you into getting used to him like its natural and let the rumors fly.

Sugar Daddy! Yandere Jing Yuan with sly smile “of course dear you can stay another night forever even perhaps” he has all the time in world for you….

Obsessive! Yandere Jing Yuan. One day on the loufu you caught in compromising position with him. he doesn’t care reputation as long rumor involve you and him solidifying a relationship.

Sex with Yandere! Jing Yuan

Pervert! Yandere! Jing Yuan! Likes to tease you in public to be caught is the thrill to show you as his.

Pervert! Yandere! Jing Yuan! To coax you into compromising position where you might be caught to assert his dominance to whittle you down begging pleading mess to show he’s won.

Pervert! Yandere! Jing Yuan! He likes when you wear what he gets for you secretly under you clothes like treat or present to unwrap at home or in quickie in closet or under desk. If he cannot wait for his treat.

Escape? Yandere! Jing Yuan.

Any other competition he’s squash silently out of sight through power, wealth, and influence.

Try to escape or run away? He’d be devasted but muster up his forces he is general after all specialized to play the long game and send a fleet to find you.

Ah I do love it when you fight, he says amused it makes the game more interesting ~

Continuation of Yandere Jing Yuan in previous posts.

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daycourtofficial · 5 months

Note

Hello. If you dont mind i have a request for azriel where maybe reader has just given birth and has lately been feeling very insecure about her body and azriel comforts her...with lots of fluff

A New Warmth

Sorry about how long this took anon, but I hope the wait was worth it!

You watch the baby nestled in the crook of your arms, mirroring her deep breaths to keep yourself calm. She was so soft, so sweet, and whenever she reached for you, it made your heart melt. She was everything you and Azriel had hoped for - healthy, chubby, and sweet as can be. She even had the cutest little wings that twitched in her sleep.

The problem with having an Illyrian baby is you develop an Illyrian’s appetite while pregnant with them, along with the other stretching and tearing your body has gone through to accommodate her.

She was two weeks old at this point, and you knew you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. Your body created this - a perfect mirror of you and your mate. But you couldn’t help the negative thoughts fluttering through your mind as your hand rested on your stomach, knowing the fresh stretch marks that lay underneath. You gained a good deal of weight during the pregnancy, your labor only removing about a dozen of those pounds.

As if sensing your spiraling thoughts, your mate walks in the door of your shared bedroom, his eyes alight with love and adoration at seeing his two girls.

“My loves,” he greets the both of you, setting the mugs of tea he had brought down, lifting the blanket to lat next to you. His presence under the blanket providing a new layer of warmth- not just physical, but the warmth of the three of you being together.

You lean your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm behind you, slowly to not disturb the baby in your arms. “Will I ever get my body back?” You mumble into his shoulder. His fingers start caressing your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into it.

“Mmm, no, I don’t think you will.” You want to snap your head up, tell him that’s no way to console someone who had just pushed out his baby out of a tiny opening in their body when he uses his hand to hold your head in place.

“We will never be the same. We cannot go back.” He looks down at the baby in your arms, “maybe one day you’ll have more autonomy again - you won’t have a baby latched to your breast every other hour.”

His hand snakes down to rest on top of the hand you’re using to cradle the baby. “But she’ll always be a part of you.” The baby starts stirring, moving her tiny hands, and he reaches out a finger, which she quickly wraps her delicate fingers around. You both watch the scarred flesh in the pristine grasp of your innocent babe, no idea of an outside world that could cause harm. All she knows is the sanctuary of your home.

You look at Azriel with tears in your eyes, feeling incredibly silly over being upset at stretch marks. But as if he can read your mind, he tells you, “you have constantly given me what I thought I’d never have. You loved me, you gave me a true home, you gave me a mate, and now?” He laughs, flexing his finger in her grasp. “You’ve expanded our family. You gorgeous thing, you.”

He kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “Your love knows no bounds, and I am eternally grateful for you.”

You start crying, post partem hormones taking control of you. “It’s so shallow,” you laugh as a tear falls, “I just was so upset over how weird my body feels. The pregnancy glow is gone so now I just feel heavy and weird in my own skin.”

He uses the hand not gripped by your baby to grab your chin and tilt it towards him. “I couldn’t look at my hands for a long time, after they had done it.”

Azriel always has a way of leaving you speechless, telling you another facet of himself he never had before.

“I could barely look at them before I met you. But you called them beautiful, this part of me I hated so much.” He looks into your eyes, the bond between you two humming in joy and adoration. “It’s okay if you don’t like how you look right now, I will find you beautiful enough for the both of us.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff

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tsunami-of-tears · 2 months

Text

ACOTAR males reacting to Reader’s piercings

Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris & Rhys

A/N: I have a lot of piercings and thought this would be fun ♡ In my case with the nips they got LESS sensitive (thank goodness honestly) but I know a lot of people have the opposite happen. I have also decided that since they have fae blood - the piercings would heal much quicker and therefore they can do the nasty the same/next day.

Warnings: sexual themes (kinda smutty - especially the last one); piercings featured: ears, belly button, nipples and female genital.

Cassian - Belly Button

Cassian LOVES your stomach!

Especially after you’ve given him children. He always takes the time to kiss every stretch mark and worship you…

You didn’t tell him about your plans for your piercing, deciding to surprise him.

He’s about to ravish you when he lifts your top… His eyes go straight to the red gem at your navel and they light up.

“Babe is that sore?” “A little, but it’s so pretty right?” He strokes your tummy and kisses it all over. “I didn’t think I could like this any more than I already did… I need you,” he lifts you, you wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you to bed.

Azriel - Nipples

He saw them your first time together, he had the biggest smirk on his face as his fingers felt them through your shirt.

He looks at you with a raised brow, slowly peeling off your shirt before taking your nipple in his mouth.

They’ve been much more sensitive since they got pierced, so you start squirming as soon as he touches them.

He delights in toying with you and gives them lots of attention - always licking/sucking/softly biting/pinching/pulling.

And then when the shadows play too? They feel so cold as they swirl over your skin - your nipples get so hard it’s almost painful (in a good way).

Outside of the bedroom, Azriel would love it when you don't wear a bra and he can see the outline of your jewellery through whatever you’re wearing. He probably gets a bit jealous if you go out with them visible without him, but he’d be so proud of his hot partner and showing you off.

Lucien - Ears

Lucien would have multiple earrings, and maybe even an eyebrow piercing on the opposite side of his scar.

Of course, all his jewellery is gold and he swaps them out to match his outfits. He’s so stylish and you love that, always admiring him.

You have your lobe piercing, but you want more. You finally decide to get some yourself, not telling Lucien.

You come home from your appointment and wait for him to notice.

Lucien is instantly by your side to greet you, he goes to kiss your cheek and stops when he sees the glinting gems and metals adorning your ear.

He smiles so wide, gently taking you in and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “My love, what did you get up to today?” He asks. “I got some more earrings, do you like them?” “They look beautiful, Y/N.” He traces the tip of your pointed ear sending a shiver down your spine. “But you are the most exquisite gem of all.”

After your new piercings heal - Lucien will help you pick out new pieces and change the jewellery for you.

When you attend formal events together, he loves matching with you and takes pride in the subtle details. You always make a handsome couple, but no one appreciates your beauty more than Lucien.

Eris - Nipples

You didn’t always have them, but it was something you’ve thought about for many years.

The man loves titties, especially yours.

When he sees your new bling for the first time, you’re in the bath and he comes to join you after a long day.

He’ll slip in behind you and wrap his hands around you. He’ll squeeze your breasts in appreciation. They always feel nice, but they feel different today. He spins you around in his lap to get a look.

“Cauldron boil me, you are going to be the death of me, Y/N.”

Eris will kiss all over you, completely worshipping you, and it’s not long until most of the bath water ends up on the floor.

Rhys - Female Genital

Rhys always calls you cute star-themed pet names - so it was only fitting to add some sparkle to his favourite part.

Rhys would be taking his time, loving every inch of you as he strips you down slowly.

When that last piece of fabric is removed, he is straight on his knees.

Of course the gem you picked is violet. Rhys looks very smug as he goes down on you - his eyes flicking between the stone and your face.

He would send images of you writhing under his touch down the bond, so you get a good view of your newest adornment.

Rhys was already completely obsessed with you, and seeing that colour marked you as his in a new way. From then on he loved taking you in any position that gave him the best view…

Help I wanna get this piercing now

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar men #acotar headcanons #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #eris x reader #cassian x reader

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nyxthejinx · 8 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

Guess who's back- yeahh Wrio altered my brain chemistry and i gotta cope with everything that just happened in the archon quest (iykyk). I haven't written in ages, I'm a bit rusty :')

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Slow mornings are the sweetest.

𝐓𝐖: Fluff (incredible, I know) nudity and intimacy in general (nothing too explicit, more on the romantic side), allusions to the night before, reader loves wrio's butt and is shameless about it (don't we all), mention of scars (wrio's), I tried to proof read it multiple times but my brain is fighting against me, lemme know if I missed anything

𝐅𝐭.: Wriothesley - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1056

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: Eclipse - Pink Floyd

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 that his body is covered with scars, nor does he try to hide them. But the bedside lamp and the afterglow shed a new light on him, one that only you have the privilege of enjoying.

He sits at the edge of the bed, hands by his sides, sinking comfortably in the mattress. The slightest twitch of his muscles can't go unnoticed, not when everything is so slow and still as if time had stopped.

But that's what happens in the Fortress, no? Unless you keep an eye on the watch, minutes and hours blend into a placid flow, until you end up thinking you have all the time in the word.

That's why you lay down the clocks in the room, when darkness begins its descent up in the overworld.

Because you get to see him like this. Sleep ridden, quiet, a bit grumpier than usual. Shamelessly naked from head to toe, with the sheets thrown over his lap for the sake of decorum, as if you didn’t see and feel each other all night along.

This morning too, he stills for minutes on end, staring ahead and gifting you the precious sight of his toned back, now painted with marks and scratches fresh from the night. He runs a hand on his nape, down his shoulder and you know he loves the stinging carvings you left behind with your nails.

But your favourite part rests further down.

“You have a nice butt.” You mumble with a lazy smile, as you let your eyes wander to his lower back. “I ought to tell you more."

Wriothesley looks over his shoulder just enough to glare at you, but you know that fiery glimmer stems from amusement; the way his eyes wrinkle at the sides nullifies the frown creasing his brows.

He's lovely, incredibly entertaining whenever he tries and fails to hide his eagerness for compliments.

The man huffs through his nose, shaking his head before standing up. He holds the fabric around his waist, now covering his rear out of spite, as he rummages through the small puddles of discarded clothes on the room's floor.

You, on the other hand, aren't as diligent as he is. There's no hurry, no impending chores more important than this moment as you make yourself comfortable on your side, in the softness of your pillow —that inevitably smells like him too.

Only a fool wouldn't enjoy how incredibly clumsy he appears right now, fighting with the sheets and getting more and more impatient with every passing second that he can't find his underwear.

It's like admiring the dark side of the moon, knowing that no one else gets the same privilege, the same trust.

Which... Might be revoked after this little stunt you pulled.

"Looking for these?"

Wrio's head snaps towards you and his frown deepens at the sight of his boxers hanging from your hooked fingers. You smirk, backing away as far as you can, until he's forced to stretch across the bed and over your body.

You can't help but giggle and snicker, too amused and definitely too confident in the power you hold over him. You both know his pinky finger would be enough to turn the tables, but he wordlessly enjoys this silly game between you two, just like he adores seeing your petty smirk.

Oh, and how he loves wiping it off your face. If he only had more time, in this dreaded Monday morning.

Without much effort, he eventually grabs the garment. "Pervert." He mutters, pinching the skin below your ribs.

You flinch, chuckling breathlessly. "Mean."

But not wrong. You can't stop your eyes from drifting down, where the sheets have slipped dangerously low after all the fighting.

Everything, from his scarred pecks and abs, to his V line looks so... imperfect, gruff, hostile. He's a man who's rough around the edges, like the claw marks that decorate his throat; hardened by life, on guard all the time.

Untrusting.

And yet, he shows his back to you without much thought.

Even now, with his pants back on, he plops into his previous position idly, placid in his every move.

There's no need to check for threats, because there's none.

And you realise once again —like you do every day— that you're not ready for the sun to come up and for the moon to switch sides.

For him to glance back.

There's things that need to be done, affairs that only the Duke can handle, no matter how greedy and jealous of his presence you are. Your hands itch to wrap around his wrist, to pull him back by your side for another hour or two.

Wriothesley, on the other hand, spins along without thinking twice, as he adjusts his boots back on. Hadn't you known him long enough, you'd dare to say he doesn't yearn for you as much as you yearn for him, but it's the little things that speak in his stead.

It's the lazily unbuckled belt, the messy hair, wobbling around with his every little movement. "I'll do it later, for it means that we'll spend more time together" they say.

It's the blemished, vulnerable back, offered so humbly.

And suddenly you can't resist the urge anymore.

You navigate your way through the sea of sheets to wrap your arms around his waist, and your bare front against his back stops his motions altogether. Blurred memories from the early night flare up one more time, as your lips burn invisible seals on the skin of his shoulder. Every mellow kiss is so fond, intimate. Just for the two of you to feel.

Never have you felt a stronger sense of belonging. Not when he relaxes so easily in your presence and the world ceases to spin.

When turning his back to you feels so natural.

"Be careful, mh?" You kiss the crook of his neck again, while your hands trace the rough skin around his navel. "I want your pretty butt to be safe and sound."

Wrio's deep chuckle shakes his shoulders and chest, and you feel it deep deep deep in your own heart.

"Your wish, my command." He hums, his coarse fingers guiding one of your wrists to his lips.

The moon, you decide, is prettier when it's dark.

DON'T copy/repost/translate my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

#Genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #Wriothesley x reader #Wriothesley #genshin Wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin drabble #genshin blurbs #gn reader #genshin fluff #genshin images #| Genshin Impact 🌓 |#| Nyx Writes 🌑 |

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bangtanintotheroom · 10 months

Text

6:42 AM (M)

Every hour, every minute, every second You know night after night I'll be fuckin' you right Seven days a week

• Pairing: Jungkook x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Fluff, Smut, Established Relationship

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 1,973

• Summary: Jungkook is ready to kick off a new day of loving you.

• Warnings/themes: JK and Y/N are horny but in love 🥰, mentions of sex all over the house, mentions of oral (f. receiving), lots of kisses 🥺, fingering, hitting it from the side, unprotected sex, c*ckwarming

• Song Inspo: Seven - Jung Kook (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: As much as I loved Seven, I didn’t plan to write anything related to it until I got the sudden urge this past weekend. I’m in a fluffy mood lately and it clearly shows in this fic 😳 If anyone can guess what anime I’m talking about, I’ll give you a platter of cookies because wow, was it a passing line 😂🍪

• Notes (2): Thank you to my lovely Sunclair @minisugakoobies for reading over this for me! ☀️💖

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp

When Jungkook opened his eyes, the only thing he could see was the tangled mess that was your hair. Blinking to clear the sleep out, he pulled his head back to get a better survey of the bedroom. It wasn’t as dark as the last time he’d had his eyes open, but not bright enough to make out every feature.

Shifting his body enough that he wouldn’t wake you, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

6:42 AM.

Normally, Jungkook would grumble before rolling over and burrowing himself deeper into the Downy-scented covers. Why the hell would he get up at this time if he didn’t have anywhere to go?

But today?

His pierced lips curled with eagerness.

Today, he had a mission to complete. The earlier, the better.

Resting his body completely now, he watched your profile as you still ventured in dreamland, lips parted as you let out soft breaths. You always lamented the fact that you tended to drool in your sleep, but Jungkook wouldn’t let you finish before telling you that he thought you were the most beautiful thing in the world, drool on your face or not.

Even as he admired you, he felt his heart picking up in rate and a stirring in his groin.

It didn’t help that your bare body was pressed against every inch of his under the comforter, legs tangled in the mutual desire to be as close to each other as possible as you fell asleep last night.

He could visualize every inch on the fly. Every scar, mole, stretch mark.

Then again, if he didn’t by now, he’d be disappointed in himself. Spending the last few days inside of you in some way or another was guaranteed to sharpen his memory.

Jungkook licked his lips as he reminisced on what the two of you had been up to. You both agreed to take vacation around the same time, planning to go somewhere to relax. But when it came closer, no one had any suggestions nor the energy to travel. It was a mutual decision to remain home and just take it easy.

Although, take it easy was far from what was happening.

On Saturday night, the two of you shared a bottle of wine and somehow, some way, the conversation ended up on sex. It wasn’t the topic itself that was unexpected, but how it deviated that made Jungkook hold back a giggle just now.

You had questioned whether it was possible to have sex for a week straight, thanks to a passing line in an old anime you revisited. Your boyfriend humored your sudden query, entering into a conversation that should not have lasted almost an hour. But you had opened up a box that neither of you wanted to close.

By the time the bottle was on its last drop, you and Jungkook decided to test this theory out, starting on Monday. Sunday was designated as laundry day and neither of you planned to shake up the tradition.

As soon as the two of you woke up Monday morning, your boyfriend was grabbing at your half-asleep form. You had called him an ‘insatiably horny monster,’ but he was quick to defend his desires as he worked at your clothes. He just had so much love to give you. It made you give a laugh that swiftly morphed into a gasp as a tattooed hand dove between your legs.

And then the rest was history.

Sex wasn’t delegated to the bed only.

Jungkook would make love to you on the couch.

Jungkook would fuck you while you were bent over the kitchen counter.

Jungkook would hold you up against the wall if he was feeling adventurous (although you freaked out when you felt him nearly drop you a couple of times).

Jungkook would even have you ride him as he sat on the bench in the shower, the water making every inch of your bare skin glisten like diamonds.

No area in the house was off-limits.

While he was reminiscing on the last few days, you were beginning to wake up. Opening your eyes a mite, you could tell it was earlier than expected. You figured that Jungkook was still asleep as well, but when you turned your head, you were greeted with dark, loving eyes. A sight that never failed to bring a smile to your lips.

“Good morning.”

“G’morning, babe.”

He was quick to place a peck on your slightly chapped lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

“Slept well?”

“Mhm. You?”

A bunny-like grin sprung up on his handsome face.

“Of course.”

A giggle left you at his answer. He didn’t stay with the world of the living for long after laying down in bed; the much-needed shower the two of you had taken before sapped the last bit of energy he had. This was pretty much what had been happening since Monday night.

But judging by the way his hands began roaming your body, he was wide awake now.

Someone didn’t want to waste time today, huh?

“Kookie…”

“Yeah?”

You bit back a smile as you felt his fingertips dancing under the curve of your breast.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook kept them moving as he leaned in next to your ear, sleep still lingering in his voice as he whispered, “Starting our day off right.”

Your hunch was correct as he started decorating your neck and shoulder with kisses, each press kicking off sparks underneath your skin.

“What about breakfast?”

Another kiss.

“I ate last night.”

You hummed, both at the feel of his lips and his reply.

“Pussy doesn’t count as actual food, baby.”

Now a light dig of teeth into your skin.

“It does to me.”

You weren’t surprised at his insistence; once his mind was set on having sex, there was little that could sway him off the path.

It was a new day, also…

Making your decision, you shifted your body to press back against your boyfriend, feeling his cock twitch from the movement. You slowly wiggled your hips, making deliberate grinds with your ass on him. The act earned a quiet groan from Jungkook, the arm underneath your body tightening its hold while his hands slid up to cup your breasts, fingers greeted by your stiff nipples.

He immediately began teasing them, savoring the breathy sighs you made as you kept rubbing back on him. Every second that passed ended up with the warmth between your legs increasing because of his touch. You could feel him getting harder and harder, starting to hear him make sounds of his own as well. Your lover must have been running out of patience as one hand began trailing down your body, its intended destination clear.

You were about to roll onto your back to give Jungkook easier access until you felt that same hand take a hold of your hip. He eased your confusion by saying softly, “Stay like that.”

Relaxing into the mattress again, you were bombarded with kisses and bites to your neck once more, the sensations of that and the fingers on your nipple combining into something wonderful. Wonderful enough that you were caught off-guard when you felt the other set of digits beginning to explore a more intimate part.

Jungkook knew your body like the back of his hand. Knew what areas made you keen or tremble with need. How to get you so worked up that you would be begging for him to fuck you silly. He tended to like bringing you to that point.

Yes, it was a bit selfish on his part, but he couldn’t help but admire the faces and sounds you would make in such a vulnerable state. It made him feel good that you granted him the privilege to witness that sight and also be the one to fix the problem.

As of now, said problem was a result of you rolling your hips down on his hand as two of his fingers took their sweet time massaging and stretching your inner walls. The side of his thumb would brush against your clit, but it just wasn’t enough pressure.

“Jungkook—”

Pausing his movements at the frenzied way you said his name, Jungkook realized that he wasn’t feeling very patient himself this morning. He was quick to slip out of you with a light squelch before taking your leg to rest it on top of his muscular thigh. Taking a hold of his stiff cock, he lined himself up with your entrance and slid into his rightful place with little resistance.

The sounds of satisfaction the two of you made melded and joined the early morning air in the room, quickly followed by the occasional smack of your bodies against each other. Every loving whisper he’d utter into your ear would be returned with words of your own, ranging from praise to pleas for him to not stop.

A useless request, honestly. He would never stop. Not when you felt this amazing.

At some point amidst the fog of pleasure shrouding your brain, you realized that the two of you hadn’t kissed since waking up. Wanting to fix that immediately, you turned your head back, almost enough to pull a muscle in your neck. You husked your request, your boyfriend jumping on it with lightning speed.

The angle made it a little uncomfortable, but you couldn’t care at the moment. Not when he was filling you up and loving you so well.

Just as you felt a jumble of knots deep in your belly, Jungkook’s movements became less fluid and moderate, bringing more speed and power into it. He was just as close as you were. But you didn’t even have to ask him to help you with hitting that high point. As soon as you opened your mouth, his hand went straight to working over the bundle of nerves above where you two were joined.

His actions caused the heat in the bedroom to rise higher and higher until it became unbearable. Just when you felt like you were at your limit, shock-waves slammed into your body. They rolled through you and towards Jungkook as well, announced by the desperate groan he gave as he buried himself and painted your throbbing walls.

Neither of you wanted this beautiful moment to end.

But alas, the pulsations slowed down, leaving your sweat-soaked bodies to assimilate to calm again. You could barely register the warm palm rubbing your waist gently, only able to fully focus when you felt a kiss to your cheek. Your head turned back again, ignoring the slight twinging ache in your neck, to take in your boyfriend’s flushed and damp face.

Jungkook was quick to give you one of his winning smiles, chocolate brown eyes damn near sparkling. Now that the room was brighter, you could see more of the little details you loved. Taking everything only made your still pounding heart skip.

A swell of emotions inside made your voice express them openly, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle at the three words you often told him. He repeated them back to you, followed by a long and languid kiss. The two of you stayed like that for a while, him still nestled in your warmth while words continued to be traded, the sun rising further and further in the sky to illuminate the bedroom fully.

At some point, you remembered that it was Friday. Which meant there were still two more days of you and Jungkook indulging in each other’s bodies.

You couldn’t think of a better way to spend your vacation.

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puckarchives · 4 months

Text

making it through july: l. hughes

blurb: moments in june, falling in love and getting put back together by luke. / word count: 2.2k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader / tw: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks; general anxiety about getting older and change. part two to "moments in june"

“The movie is my mind is blue — / As June runs into warm July / I think of little else but you.” (Wendy Cope, From June to December.)

When the heat of June melted into the sticky sensation of July, the summer felt almost claustrophobic; the feeling of freedom you had tried to play off as being permanent, while the remainder of the month looming took center stage: a rush of anxiety, of worry, and of anger at the closing of summer.

Now, as you stood at the kitchen island inside the lake house, Luke draped over the sofa with the fan pointed directly at him, you could see the toll the summer had taken on your boy, as well. The once pale skin he wore now a tan, the beauty marks dusted on his cheeks and neck now surrounded by smatterings of freckles — reminders of the kisses you had once laid on that same expanse of skin.

Despite how much you hated to admit it — how much you hated to let the overwhelming feeling of wrongness take over your senses, you knew it was time; time for a conversation between the two of you of what July really meant. For you, July was a marker of anxiety; of homesickness for the boy who was merely six feet away from you, burdened by the same fear you were overcome with during the semester, when the nights of studying, of feeling overwhelmed and as if you would never finished, felt like they’d never truly stop.

It was those nights that spiked the feeling of missing this version of Luke: of missing the way he’d grab your hand, entwining your fingers even if he didn’t mean it. Of the soft touch he’d leave at the back of your neck, his fingers ghosting over the trails of kisses he’d leave when no one else saw him, where the only salvation he ever claimed to know was the taste of your skin. Now, the only taste you could sense was the taste of disappointment; an ash-like memory of the anxiety of being away — a fear that you could feel weeks before you even had to leave. In a way, it was your body preparing you for the pain — the rush of discomfort, of lonely and cold nights, and of resentment in a way.

Now, though, as you walked towards Luke’s lounging form, the boy looked up — opening his eyes and meeting yours as you laid the glass of water and plate of snacks on the coffee table in front of him, and as he sat up to make space for you on the couch — scooting his body away to let you soak up both the warmth of his own body, and the fresh air blowing straight at the both of you. He smiled softly, his curls sleep-addled and his muscles relaxed. In a way, for every single one of your worries, Luke combatted it with his own ability to remain calm — to soak up the same sun you stood by worrying would be gone much too soon.

“Luke?” you asked quietly. He only cocked his head a bit — already being able to mark the tension your body held, and that you carried. As you sat next to him, he stopped you before you could fully reach the couch — instead, stretching out his own legs to they stretched the length of the couch, and where he maneuvered you to sit between his legs — pulling your back to his chest, and working his way fro your hands, to your forearms, to your shoulders with his hands, dragging the tips of his fingers, calloused and scarred from his job, to trail up your body.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he began, his voice cutting through your own stupor. Could he, though? Was he really able to tell that you felt like you were ripping at the seams, so caught up in your own fear of change? Of losing the moments you held on to so dearly?

Almost as if he could sense your thoughts, he nodded, despite the fact that you couldn’t see him. “Yes, I’ve seen it, baby. The way you’ve decided you aren’t allowed to enjoy the rest of our time here because of the fear of what comes after this. Of what comes after June and July and August,” he said quietly. How was it that this boy could read you so well? How could he so easily peel apart the layers of yourself you had tried so hard to keep together?

You could only nod, laying as close to him as you could, and not trying to quell the tears that dripped out. You couldn’t keep pretending like it was fine — like the toll your body was working with was okay anymore. Instead, you let Luke speak — let him drag your hair away from your face, running his fingers through the strands.

“Look, pretty girl, this is what’s going to happen — and before you say anything, before you let the fear overtake every single thought in that pretty little head of yours, I need you to listen to me first, okay?” he asked. “When July is over, we have until August — until you’re so sick of me. When we leave, when I go back to Newark and you go back to Michigian, we’re going to be okay,” he continued.

“We’re going to make it through the summer, and then we’re going to make it through fall and winter, and then spring again. You’re going to go back to school and work your ass off, but you’re going to set boundaries for yourself, we both are, because baby, I refuse to let you worry about this again. Y/N, I love you — since you laughed at my stupid jokes, and since you made my entire family love you, I knew you were mine, and I never want you to doubt that. But, when July ends, I want you to go back knowing that I am always going to be here. Me loving you doesn’t just stop because July comes around,” he finished.

He wrapped his arms around your chest, enveloping your arms in his — he was right. Just because June had bled into July, just because your worry had transformed into a more immediate thing, did not mean that Luke was going to simply disappear; Luke, for all of your worries or your anxieties, was not the summer. He wasn’t simply a month that would come and go every year, but the man who had loved you since he saw you — the man who would put himself and his needs just to take care of you and yours first — something he had proved time and time again. The truth was that Luke was the boy you wanted to spend your Junes and Julys with, who you wanted to watch the summer bleed into the fall with, and who you wanted to continue loving; just because July was here didn’t mean the love between the two of you was as fluttering.

For so long you had forced yourself to see the changing of months as markers for your relationships — for how those around you would treat you; how they would make your time feel almost limited when the summer was over, but with Luke, that changed. With Luke, whether it was June or July, you’d be loved.

“It’s July and I have hope in who I am becoming.” (Charlotte Eriksson, Everything Changed When I Forgave Myself.)

For all of his quirks — his inability to cook, his bad habit of always leaving his dirty shirts on the rim of the hamper instead of inside, or always leaving his keys everywhere, Luke was truly the partner of your dreams — so you tried your best to ensure that you were just as supportive and assuring as he was when he needed the opportunity to breath — to calm the raging storm that you knew was constant in his head. Luke was always there for you — always a sure hand, always a solid companion, and the one individual who knew what you needed the moment you asked.

Knowing this, you still felt your heart clench the moment you felt Luke creep out of your shared bed close to 3AM — unlatching himself from where his arms were encasing you, and where you heard his footsteps retreating from the bedroom, and dwindling down the stairs — hearing the give of the wood under his own large frame as he tried his best to be quiet, and not wake his sleeping brothers.

You did your best to give him some space; despite the fact that you needed to be encased in comfort when you were anxious, Luke wasn’t like that — he needed space, and then he wanted to comfort — needing the reminder that he was solid, and that you were unmoving as well. Turning into the warmth that he left on his side of the bed, you counted from one to sixty ten times; giving him, at the very least, ten minutes to take what he needed before you helped him, as well.

Once you finished counting, you sprang out of bed, sleep be damned. Your boy needed you, and you wouldn’t disappoint him.

Making your way down the stairs — making sure to skip the bottom step so it wouldn’t creak, you walked out to the porch, where you could see Luke’s frame illuminated by the porch lights, small patio lights the two of you had put up at the beginning of the summer. You could see the wide expanse of his back — toned and fit from all of his hours training, almost caving in on himself. Luke, for all his glory, was as anxious as you were, but instead of isolation, he tried to make himself smaller — to fit into the rle he had played for so long as the youngest child.

As you walked outside, you could hear his silent sobs; the shaking of his shoulders a dead giveaway. As you joined him, sitting next to him on the porch, you reached out and put a hand on his shoulder — shaking him up a bit, but ultimately feeling as he turned directly into you, and simply hugged you — enveloping the entirety of your body and dragging you up to your tip-toes as he hugged you, and as he sobbed into your shoulder.

To offer him some sort of reprieve, you rubbed his back slowly — giving him the ability to take the time to let it all out, because as much as Luke knew you, you also knew him — and you knew he had been keeping this in for a while.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay, sweet boy,” you whispered, now running your hands through his hair. “Whatever it is, your brain is playing mean tricks on you. You’re so worthy, and smart, and I am so endlessly proud of you, hmm?” you said, trying to offer as much comfort to the boy as possible.

As Luke’s cries subsided, he brought his face away from your shoulder quickly, and, through a tear-stricken voice, explained the toll that the months had on him, too. “It’s just — I see the toll that this takes on you; that I take on you, and I don’t want to keep hurting you, baby. I can’t keep hurting you,” he whispered, and at that moment, if you hadn’t been outside and the lake hadn’t been less than a hundred yards away, you would've thought you could hear the distinct sound of your own heart breaking into a million tiny pieces; fragments that Luke himself had put together, but that broke again hearing his say that.

Yes, you were anxious, and it did tend to take a toll on you, but it wasn’t his fault — and neither was it something he could fix. You were so proud of Luke — of the fact that he was out there, chasing his dreams and making his own name because of his talent and skill. Did you miss him? Absolutely, but you didn’t want to be the reason he gave up his dreams — the reason he hated doing what he loved.

“Luke, look at me, please,” you pleaded quietly, holding his face and cupping the right side of his face. “None of this is your fault, do you understand me? You have done nothing wrong but wait all summer for me to be myself, and because of you, I have. I’ve had the best weeks of my life here, with you, and I don’t give a fuck if its June or July or fucking December, because you taught me now to,” you started.

“Luke Warren Hughes, I don’t care if it’s the middle of July or it’s January, you are mine, you hear me? You aren’t hurting me or causing me any pain; in fact, it’s the exact opposite — you’ve been the only reason I’ve smiled in so long, and I love you for that,” you whispered, still holding on to him, nodding and making sure he copied your actions — you’d drill this into his head even if it gave you vertigo.

Luke could only look up at you — his face tear-stricken, his curls plastered to his head, and the echoes of pain in his eyes. He nodded, looking at you, before once again bringing you into a hug. You loved him, and fuck if it was July or August; the summer wouldn’t be a deadline or a reminder, but just a change of page. Because, right now, despite being the beginning of July, you still felt like you’d been in love with him for much more than a summer.

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #nj devils #hughes brothers #nhl blurb #luke hughes is a sap #making it through july — moments in june #anxiety is okay!!!#please make sure you have a support system i love you

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iprobablyshipit91 · 11 months

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Beautiful

Genre: hurt, comfort, fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size!Female Reader

Word Count: 645

Warnings: body issues, negative thoughts, post pregnancy insecurities

SPN Masterlist

I’ve been feeling a bit down the last few days and this happened kind of out of nowhere but it felt good to write something. Sending love to anyone feeling insecure about their body for whatever reason. You are beautiful just the way you are 💕

You look in the mirror with a frown tugging down at the corners of your lips and sigh heavily. In nothing but your underwear it's hard not to notice the way your body has undoubtedly changed over the last year. Your thighs are a bit thicker, your hips a bit wider, your stomach a lot rounder. Your body has always been thicker set, but strong and capable of fighting as was needed for hunting. Now all you see is soft lines and the pattern of discoloured skin now running in lines down your whole stomach.

You’re no stranger to stretch marks and scars, but these feel different somehow. They’re so wide and the colour of them so vivid that they’re all you can see. And there’s just so damn many of them. The whole of your lower stomach is covered.

The worst thing is that Dean still looks, well incredible. You swear he somehow gets even more handsome as he ages which is entirely unfair. He's still muscular and fit, despite the unlimited amount of burgers and pies he seems to devour. And even though you know it’s ridiculous as it’s not like his body had to grow and change to accommodate a small human, you know that’s not the issue. It's not jealousy that Dean’s body is, in your eyes, flawless. It's that stupid, creeping insecurity that whispers nonsense in your mind, that tells you Dean will want to find someone equally as flawless. Someone who looks like the girls at the bars he used to chase in his younger days.

It's crap and you know it. He gave those habits up long ago and you know he loves you for so much more than the body you steer through the world. But inner voices are nothing if not cruel at the worst of times. You sigh, finger tracing down one of the jagged lines when the door opens behind you.

"Sweetheart, have you s-“

Dean stops, mid-step and mid-sentence, catching sight of you judging yourself in the mirror. You scramble to grab your t-shirt, discarded on the bed, but Dean beats you there, crossing the room in a few short strides and standing between you and the mattress, blocking your way.

"What are you doing?" His question is soft, eyes searching your face and noticing the frown lines that have etched themselves into your forehead.

"Nothing," you whisper, embarrassed at having been caught. You avoid Dean’s eye, but he slips a hand beneath your chin and lifts your face to his.

"You're my favourite, most beautiful girl," he says, looking deep into your eyes before pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head, "Nothing is ever going to change that, okay?"

"Okay," you nod, closing your eyes as a tear slips unbidden down your cheek. He releases you gently, his hands moving slowly down your arms before landing on your hips. The heavy weight of his hands on your skin somehow makes you feel better. It’s a reminder that there is so much more to both of you than your flawed skin and perfectly imperfect bodies.

"I love you, Sweetheart. Exactly the way you are." Dean’s words are a breath against your lips but said with so much conviction that you feel your heart soar. “And these right here,” the back of his fingers stroke gently down the lines on your stomach, tracing the same path yours did just moments ago. “These show what an incredible job you did of carrying and protecting our little boy. I will forever be grateful and so proud of you.”

You close your eyes again, a few more tears spilling over but a small smile graces your face. Dean wipes your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs before he pulls you into a deep kiss that tells you love is more than just skin-deep.

#iprobablyshipit91 writes #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #protective!dean winchester #dean winchester #dean x you #fluff #SPN #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #insecure reader

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certaincollectionlandblog · 11 months

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F1 Drivers that I think would date some plus sized queens and how I think it would go

Carlos Sainz

- I can't explain why, but I feel like Carlos is already an ass man and with his personality he seems like the guy to love when his girl was squishy. Maybe like a fit plus size queen like they go to the gym together and stuff, but she's still thicker than a Snicker like Ashley Graham without the boobs (TBH that's specifically my body type and all the plus size queens with the boobs get love, but were is the love our itty bitty bitty plus size babes?) if you have the boobs sis he would love it too; just wanted to give some representation for my body type cause I know I can't be the only one out here like this! - Would constantly come up to you saying "I shall call her squishy and she shall be my squishy" before wrapping you in such a great hug and peppering you with kisses (come guys I can so see this like AAGHH) - If you're tall and a plus queen I think he would also be totally down for that too! We need some tall plus size love too man :) - He knows that you probably can't wear his clothes or that if you can that they don't fit oversized like he knows you would find cute so he orders some hoodies a size or two too large and keeps "accidentally" leaving them around you. - Krispy Kreme has nothing on this man, he is hot and ready for you all the time - Summer is his favorite time because seeing you prance around in those shorts that ride up your ass have this man so distracted that he is a danger to himself and humanity - Hand on the ass ALL the time (y'all can't argue with me on this one okay) - He loves to lay on you whenever possible - You are his human pillow now - Carlos Sainz is a cuddle bug and no one can tell me other wise!

Mick Schumacher

- If I were to picture our precious Mick with anyone else other than a beautiful tall plus size sweetheart it just wouldn't fit in my mind - He is such a boob guy like there's literally even no denying it (~starts crying in itty bitty titty committee~), but if you were less blessed in the chest I think Mick would still love it cause he is an angel - Mick is a sweetheart who has been through a lot, you provide him a sense of comfort and love when you pull him for one of your ever constant and always soft hugs (you never let go before he does because sometimes he just needs to hold you and that's okay) - You're like the Anna to his Kristoff (Frozen anyone?!) sweet, fun, adventurous, with a little side of chaos - He will kiss every single freckle, scar, and stretch mark on your entire body, in fact he makes it his life mission to do so - Sometimes he steals your sweatpants cause y'all are pretty much the same height and he loves having the extra room from the size difference - One time he stole a pair of your Juicy sweatpants to wear around the house and didn't realize the butt had JUICY bedazzled on it until his mom pointed out when she came over to visit for dinner - Mick loves to snuggle with you while you sleep, but he always falls asleep with his hand on your boob - You make him smile so much the boys started teasing him telling him he should try to get Crest toothpaste as a sponsor - Mick is major on cockwarming and if he had it your way he would never leave the warmth of your walls

Daniel Riccardo

- I feel it in my bones that Danny is an ass man - He is constantly sending up little prayers of thank you to whoever invented leggings and compression shorts - Daniel loves when you steal his button ups to wear around the house with nothing else because even though they aren't quite oversized it's the fact that seeing you wear his clothes and seeing your ass at the same time as poor Danny boy wound up tighter than a Jack in the box - You know they do say that cowboys tend to like their women like molasses, sweet and thick and well as bad as Danny wishes he was cowboy he makes sure to follow that rule -Save a horse ride a cowboy anyone? - He swears he's died and gone to heaven when he looks down into your innocent doe eyes every time you suck him off - You guys have matching sweatsuits for movie nights (secretly he loves it) - Danny just gives off the vibe of loving if you were tall too like it's giving off power couple vibes - He actually steals your hoodies because they're so soft and smell like your perfume - He loves when you rest your head on his shoulder like he actually smiles a kid getting to meet Santa for the first time - Is constantly giving you forehead kisses because he doesn't have to bend down and he loves seeing your eyes light up like a Christmas tree when he does

Jack Doohan

- first off there's not enough Jake Doohan love on this platform and I am determined to fix that sweethearts - Okay IDK if it's just my experience, but it's always the skinny, tall white boys getting with these plus size queens and Jack is no exception - I'm not really sure if Jack is a thigh or an ass man more, but I'm totally getting those vibes you know - He already loves surfing and spending anytime in water that he can and now he gets the added bonus of seeing your beautiful figure in his second favorite amount of clothes for you (the first is when you're butt ass naked) - I can't explain it, but I am very much going with the theory that these Australian boys love themselves some tall plus babes (if you're short I'm sure they would like you too baby it's just the vibe I'm getting okay) - He always holds the door for you because he's a gentleman duh, but he also gets to look at that world shattering ass and those beautiful thighs of yours - This man loves you more than a southern granny loves her biscuits and gravy - Jack loves not having to look too far down to see, if he even has to look down at all TBH because let's be real here couples with a height difference especially a big height difference one of the poor love bugs always ends up with back problems - No lie he reminds me of Johnny from Hotel Transylvania like he'll try to be smooth with you, but you keep this man so flustered that sometimes he doesn't know what to do with hisself - Jack 100% loves to snuggle with you on the beach; He's sitting between your legs leaned up against you while you read your book - He loves to take you doggy style (he has Pierre to thank for the idea after that interview) - Always is pulling you into his lap during movies, make-out sessions because he loves having you straddle him

I have no true evidence to back up these theories, but going strictly off of vibes. I am convinced our bros would be down to date some plus size queens, especially some tall ones ;) Please feel free to leave feedback below!

All photos are from Pinterest!

#f1 drabble #f1 blurb #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 smut #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #mick schumacher #mick schumacher smut #mick Schumacher x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #Daniel Ricciardo smut #jack doohan #jack doohan smut #jack doohan x reader

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