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#i'm sorry i just had to get this out of my brain
ghoulphile · 1 day
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no use cryin' over spilled milk | c.h./the ghoul
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.8 k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, frottage, lactation kink, pregnant!reader, fingerfucking, praise kink, breast play, the ghoul calls reader pretty mama, he's a pervert who wants to lend a 'helping' hand ➥ summary | based off this ask; oops being an experiment from vault 4 where you may be the first rad resistant human pregnant with a possibly rad resistant baby, and you come across the ghoul who helps you get to a safe place but then he gets attached with you and the baby 🥺 (this is just me trying to insert a lactation kink somewhere i'm sorry) ➥ notes | uhhhh pls let me know if i missed anything, my brain is dribbling out my ears (its 3:44 am and i have work at 8 am rip) but the parasites persist. i'll do the tag list when i wake up ❤️ masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️
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Going topside wasn’t an easy decision.
In fact, bile bitter regret often lingers in the back of your throat - a lump that stifled the air in your lungs.
And while you might’ve been bioengineered to survive better under these harsh wasteland conditions, every time you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you're catapulted headlong into paralyzing self doubt; alone and rudderless.
No one lives in the vaults - not truly.
Birdie (and the others) warned you of what awaited beyond those lead-lined walls. But you couldn’t abide spending the rest of your life trapped in a cage, albeit a gilded one.
Not anymore.
Oh no, you wanted to feel a real breeze instead of air pumped through the HVAC. Experience the sun baking warm into your skin like fresh bread instead of the artificial heat of the UV lamp used for mandatory light therapy sessions. Complain about the chafe of sand in your shoes and hear the crunch of dirt under foot instead of a hollow clunk of sterile metal.
To witness first hand all the sights, sounds, and smells this world offers. 
Only… you didn’t expect it to be this hard.
Nor did you expect to be pregnant when setting off into the great unknown on your own (a definite oversight on your part [you really shouldn’t have had one last hurrah before hitting the road]).
Through trial and error, motion sicknesses that swing into crippling nausea as manic energy - your first taste of true freedom! - dwindled into dragging fatigue, you found a happy medium. None of which would have been possible had it not been for the most unlikely of companions.
Ghouls; who knew, huh?
Sure, you’d heard of them from the rotating door of visitors that found themselves at Vault 4, but you’d never seen them. While you grew up surrounded by visible mutations, seeing the battlefield of his body was off putting; how a person could survive a patina of burns and patchwork slices without unraveling at the seams was beyond you.
And kind of frightening.
But he took it in stride, introducing himself as Ghoul. Refused to divulge anything else of substance no matter how much you poked and prodded.  His life pre-bomb was a complete mystery filled with plot holes and unanswered questions (which is exactly what he preferred).
You learned to be comfortable with his meandering conversations, and all the words he spoke that said much of nothing. And what you did glean, you did so through observation alone. 
He was alone - had been for a very long time.
He was very old - one of the last of his kind.
And he was, in his own way, very kind - at least by wasteland standards.
“The fuck you doin’?”
Pausing, you stop mid push and hover awkwardly on your hands and knees. The vault suit pulls taut across your hips, pinching behind your knees uncomfortably. Your toes squeak in your shoes, socks thoroughly soaked through with sweat.
It’s been unseasonably hot (or it’s the hormones). Whatever the case, this is the first semi-decent lodging you’ve camped in for weeks, and you’re not about to miss an opportunity to freshen up.
And maybe find a way to soothe the building ache in your tits - flesh swollen tender and nipples rubbed raw.
“I’m just, uh, gonna,” you motion towards the back of the house, the askew bathroom door clinging to its hinges by a corner, “y’know, f-freshen up. See if they don’t still have some water.”
The Ghoul scans you up and down, gimlet-eyed. “S’that so?”
You huff, your knees starting to ache.
Being five months pregnant throws your center of gravity for a loop, the atmosphere weighing extra heavy on your bones. It doesn’t help that the baby’s decided sitting directly on your bladder with a foot tucked under your ribs is the best position.
“Didn’t know I needed permission to take a piss now,” you snipe. Usually, you try to reign in the hormones but the day’s been too long and you’re in pain. Anyone would be a little snippy (right?). “Can I do that on my own or do you need to watch, Mr. Ghoul?”
A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze glinting from beneath the rim of his hat as he tips his head. “Better watch it, sweetheart,” he says. “Otherwise, I might have’ta wash your mouth out with soap.”
Pushing yourself up with a grunt, you determinedly ignore the raspy chuckle that follows as you waddle towards the bathroom. Cussing him out all the while in your mind.
While he’s been ‘nicer’ today - stopping for extra breaks, even packing it in several hours earlier than usual because he noticed how weary you looked - he’s still an asshole.
The toilet’s gone, the tub’s tipped sideways, the linoleum’s cracked, and closing the door sounds like a pack of howling mole rats but its functional. When you catch your reflection in the spider web fractures of the mirror, you grimace.
The wastes have certainly left their mark on you. Gone is the prim-and-proper vault dweller, replaced by a gremlin of a woman Overseer Benjamin would surely scowl at.
A true ‘surfie’ now.
“Great,” you groan, scrubbing a palm over your face. “Just - ugh!”
You’re caked in grime, a steak of dirt smeared across the bridge of your nose. Mysterious stains darken the blue fabric, the golden stripes of your suit an off-putting grey.
Your hair clumps in greasy chunks. You’re glossy with sweat, and while your curves have plumped up over the last few months, you didn’t realize just how much until now.
The vault suit’s always been tight - now it clings and creases in unflattering places. And there’s nothing you can do about it, unless the Ghoul is willing to spare a sewing kit.
You could let the waist out some…
What the hell am I gonna do if he won’t? There’s no way I’ll fit if this baby gets any bigger. Shit, I look like a fucking sausage. Your hand cradles the side of your stomach, stroking over the bump with a frown. This is all your fault, you little parasite.
“You better be so fucking cute - the cutest goddamn baby in the wasteland. Or I will riot.”
Tugging down the zipper over your breasts is heaven, the swollen flesh spilling out of the parting fabric, no longer compressed. It’s almost enough to make you cry as you struggle to tug the lycra off your shoulders, the fabric putting up a fight.
After some awkward contortions that pull uncomfortably at the muscles of your shoulder blades, you manage to wrangle yourself free.
The temptation to burn the stupid goddamn suit is almost too much to resist, but then you’d really be traipsing around the wasteland in the nude and just… no.
Peeling off your undershirt is another story altogether, the soft cotton feeling like sandpaper as it scrapes over sensitive skin. Your nerves tingle with awareness, bolts of pain shooting through your nipples with every shift.
Quick like a bandaid, you think, taking a steadying inhale.
It’s a miracle you don’t scream.
Tears cling to your lashes, your nose running as you toss the shirt to the side with one hand and cradle your chest with the other. Sure, you’ve had tenderness with your period but this kind of pain? A whole new level.
You almost don’t know what to do with yourself.
How is this fair - aren’t you suffering enough?
Sniffling, you peer down at your tits and gingerly cup them with your palms. Swollen hard and warm to the touch; a heavy weight crushing your ribs.
Do I really have to milk myself like a fucking brahmin? Another bolt of lightning crackles through your nerve endings as if in response. Fine. God, this is embarrassing.
Only any attempt at touching your nipples produces pure agony, shards of glass biting into delicate skin.
No matter how slight your touch, no matter how gentle your fingers - it doesn’t work. Leaves you more distraught and in pain than when you began as inflamed nerve endings crackle and burn.
And when the tears truly start, the dam breaks. It’s not long before they drip down your cheeks in fat rivulets, your breath hitching from you in pathetic little exhales.
Your fist shoves against your mouth in an attempt to smother the sounds, teeth sinking into your knuckle until you leave sore indents.
But you should know better, not only does the Ghoul have heightened senses (he’s taunted you constantly with this fact like the asshole he is), but he’s uncannily perceptive in a very annoying way.
You don’t hear the squeal of the door, but you do sense his presence behind you; the rad warm burn of his body as he stops a scant few inches away. You feel his breath against the nape of your neck, the barest brush of his chest as he inhales.
“You ready ta stop bein’ stubborn?” he hums. “I thought I told you not ta wait s’long.”
Your voice warbles from you, “G’way.” You curl into yourself, shoulders hunching as you hang your head. “Don’t need your help.”
The Ghoul snorts. “Cuz you doin’ so well on your own, huh?”
“I resent that.” You shoot him a weak glare, the animosity ruined by the crumble of your lips. “I really, really do.”
You hate always having to rely on him, so desperate to prove that you can take care of yourself only to have every effort to do so thrown back in your face.
Shit, you hate how right Birdie was, “Honey, you won’t last five minutes on your own. Please stay here with us where it’s safe.”
“Well, maybe so. But pickers can’t be choosers, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a languid roll of the shoulders. “Ain’t no use cryin’ over spilled milk. C’mon, the longer you wait, the worse it’s gon be.”
“I just - you don’t understand…”
He reaches around you to set his hat on the sink, the dwindling light of twilight creeping in through the holes in the roof to bathe him in its bloody light.
He looks like a grotesque demon that clawed its way from the depths of hell. It gets your pulse thudding, electric awareness an unwelcome visitor as it roosts behind your navel.
“I understand plenty. Now, let me.”
Not an offer - not really.
More akin to a demand, one wrapped up pretty like a gift. You’ve been here many times before, and while the Ghoul proffers his help under the guise of not wanting to hear your bitching and moaning, the hungry gleam of his eyes as they rake over your face say otherwise.
If it’s one thing you’ve learned in your travels with him, it’s this: he is entirely self-serving. He offers because he wants to suck on a set of pretty tits. If you happen to cream your panties while he does, well, he counts it as a win-win.
Quid pro quo.
And what you hate more than how utterly correct everyone is about life on the surface, is how needy he makes you. How desperate and dumb and dripping he’s got you by the end, drunk off the flick of his tongue and the rasp of his touch.
Because it’s so hard to be strong in the face of pain when the solution is right there; open-palmed.
“...Fine, just don’t - don’t leave marks this time, okay?”
A slow waking smile creaks across his face, and he says, “I ain’t makin’ any promises, sweetheart.”
Your stomach swoops, and your thighs clench.
Shit.
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Scarred lips work over tender flesh as a talented tongue flicks and swirls over the bumps of your areola, the tip digging into your nipple and drawing the swollen nub into a hot mouth. You whimper, arms tossed over the Ghoul’s broad shoulders.
Cold ceramic digs into the base of your spine, your body crowded back against the sink as he plasters himself to your front. Cuts off any escape routes and refuses to let you squirm away from the overwhelming sensations as he suckles.
Heavy palms grope at the plush curves of your hips, fingertips digging into the fat.
His lips pop off your nipple with a sticky smack. “Always taste s’fucking good,” he groans against your sternum. “Got the prettiest set a tits in the wasteland.”
“Hnn! N-Not so hard.”
While you say that, you don’t mean it - not really. Your pussy throbs in time with your heartbeat, clit swollen and aching for friction. Your inner thighs are a mess of slick, your vault suit caught around your knees.
He never touches you below the waist directly (some boundaries still exist between you two), but at this point in your pregnancy, you’re so sensitive a gentle breeze could set you off.
“Heh, ain’t you know lyin’s a sin?” he says.
A scarred cheek drags over the swell of your breast, the rasp of rad burn alighting your nerves. Bolts of desire ricochet down your spine, fizzle like Nuka Cola on your tongue. He presses an open mouth kiss to your nipple, his tongue flicking out to massage the tender bud.
At the taste of your skin, his cock twitches where its grinding against your thigh. You feel him through his ragged pinstripe slacks, his shaft a thick line of heat.
It’s probably the hormones (you refuse to admit its anything else) but just the thought of touching him, of sinking down onto his erection - feeling how fucking good he’d stretch you out and fill you up - makes you dizzy.
You pant, your voice distinctly whiny when you say, “Please, d-do something. It still hurts.”
His grin reminds you of the mongrels roaming the wastelands. “Sh,” he hushes you. “I got you, sweetheart.”
The tips of his fingers brush along the side of your swollen stomach. Your heart flips in your chest, your breath catching as he follows the contours of your body, reaching down to brush over the skin of your mound. This is new, he’s never done this before. It’s simultaneously as arousing as it is terrifying.
“Can smell how wet you are for me,” he says, tone low and gruff. “You gonna be a good girl for me, ain’t you?”
“I-”
Then his mouth is slurping at your tit, his teeth biting down on your nipple gently as those strong fingers dip between your thighs. Blunt nails scratch through your pubic hair, a calloused pad swirling circles around your slippery clit. Your hips jump, your head rolling back between your shoulders as a loud moan rips itself from your throat.
You arch back so far your belly presses against the Ghoul’s, your tits smothering his face.
You think, half deliriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose otherwise you might’ve broken it.
“Shit, that’s so - oh, fuck, please, please, please!’
Your legs widen to make room for his hand as yours fly up to grab his biceps, nails biting into the rough leather of his duster.
His tongue flutters across your areola. “C’mon, pretty mama, give it ta me.”
“Oh.” Sparks dance behind your eyes, your knees shaking as the Ghoul strokes over your folds, tests your wetness and the give of your cunt as he plays with your entrance. “Right there,” you gasp. “I’m gonna…”
He grunts, tugging on your nipple with his teeth.
The sharp bite of pain shoots through you, deepens the kindling warmth behind your navel that steadily builds and builds and builds. You feel on the very edge, nerves plucked like the keys of a piano.
So close you can taste it.
Then a tingling starts in the tips of your fingers.
Burns its way up your arms to settle in the weight of your chest, pins and needles pricking across the skin of your tits, lancing through the swollen buds of your nipples.
You tremble, the relief bringing tears to your eyes as tears the heaviness releases in a warm flood, your milk letting down to flow into the Ghoul’s eagerly pulling mouth.
“Fuckin’ finally,” he moans, chasing after the taste by nuzzling into your chest. His cock ruts against you. “Took you’re sweet damn time, didn’t you, darlin’?”
Your head spins, hazy thoughts scattering like confetti.
Endorphins simmer through your veins as you float on a cloud of cotton softness. Reality seems worlds away, your vision blurry as you focus on the points of contact between your bodies. The stretch of his fingers plunging into your pussy to stroke over the front wall.
Mouth slack, your hands creep up the Ghoul’s arms to trace over the sides of his neck, watch the dance of your fingers over his skin. “It feels s’good,” you slur. “Please don’t stop - wanna cum just like this.”
“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it.”
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purple-obsidian · 2 days
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Heyyyyy pookieeee-i saw your Jason todd fic and wanted to ask,what do you think he will be like teaching his gf how to drive?
(Because nobody in my freaking life taught me how to drive yet so I have to sit like a duck and wait for someone to pick me up when I wanna go somewhere pleaseeee let me drivee-)
be brave (jason todd x fem reader) wc 800
⭓ fluff isn't my normal cup of tea. but for you, pookie, i can make an exception ;) sorry this took a while to answer, hope you don't mind i made this specific to driving a motorcycle. that's just what felt right when i was meditating on this prompt so i went with it. enjoy.
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"Jason, are you sure this is a good idea?"
"You second guessing me, princess?"
"Yeah, maybe I am. I could kill us!"
Jason scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "You think I would let that happen? Ever?" With cocky grin, Jason walks over and stares down at you, noting the apprehension on your face. "Remember the day we met? You told me you had a bucket list. Things you wanted to do before you died."
"Yeah, I only told you that because I thought I was going to die. You rescued me. I got plenty of time now, I don't have to learn how to drive tonight. Its already dark." You reach your hand up reflexively to rest against his chest as he gets closer. Its a habit of yours. You always find yourself drawn to the steady beating of his heart. Its grounding, and you need some of that right now.
"The road is well lit. We're miles from the outskirts of Gotham, no traffic out here. Just you and me, baby. Why not now?" His large hand rests over yours, pressing it more firmly against his chest. His heart is beating slow and steady, and his piercing green eyes are filled with admiration. "You and I both know that every day we have together is precious. Why wait to do the things you wanna do? Besides, I'd feel better knowing my girl can drive my bike if she needs to."
Jason knows you too well, calling you his girl like that makes you feel weak in the knees. Your own heart beats faster as you break your gaze away from your boyfriend smiling down at you, looking over at the motorcycle he brought you here on. For some reason, it looks more intimidating than it did a few minutes ago. You swallow the lump in your throat before looking back at him. "I'm nervous."
"I know." He states matter-of-factly. Of course he knows, he can read you like a book.
"I've literally never driven anything before. Like ever. I haven't even-"
"Shhh." Jason's hand leaves yours and cups your face gently. His other hand is on your waist, keeping you close. "You don't have to be good at it right away. I don't expect you to be. But you're smart. And you're perceptive. And I know after a little practice, you'll get more confident. I won't let us crash, baby, promise."
Jason really does know you too well. He can see the rebuttal forming on your lips before he finishes speaking. So he leans down to kiss it away before you can verbally express your doubts. The tinge of frustration you feel at being cut off isn't enough to keep you mind from turning to mush from the kiss. His lips are so warm, his breath tastes like spearmint, and his touch gives you butterflies.
But the kiss ends all too quickly. You know he cut it short it on purpose, not wanting your brain to turn off completely before you try and drive for the first time. "Sorry, babygirl, can't give you too much. How could you drive if you're all drunk from my kisses? Hm?"
He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in how cute you look when you're speechless. A moment later, Jason releases his hold on you and turns towards his bike, walking to it with a bit of pep in his step and smugness in his grin, leaving you stammering for a second as you try and string together a coherent thought.
"F-fuck you, Jason." You say after a moment. He always knows how to shut me up.
"I love you too." He grabs his helmet and puts it on before tossing you yours. It's an easy catch, but you're still giving him a dirty look.
"Why did we have to do driving first?" You grumble, accepting your defeat. "Pretty sure seeing the pyramids was also on my bucket list. Along with an abundance of other fun things, like riding in a helicopter, or swimming with dolphins. Or what about joining the mile high club? I'd think that one would be your first priority."
Jason is beaming, watching you put your helmet on and get ready to ride. Even as you scowl at him and mutter complaints, his heart melts at how easily you folded. All it took was a kiss. He always gets his way. He knows you can't say no to him. Jason Todd has you wrapped around his finger, and the vigilante couldn't be any happier about it. He looks you up and down to admire your body before replying, "Stick with me, princess, and I'll make all your dreams come true." He promises. "One at a time. I'll show you the pyramids. I'll fuck you in a plane. But first…"
He grabs you by your waist with both hands and effortlessly lifts you up off the ground to set you down on the seat of his bike. You yelp in surprise, quickly grabbing his hands to steady yourself. "First, you gotta be brave and learn how to ride your boyfriend's bike."
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⭓ masterlist ⭓
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monstersflashlight · 2 days
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Hi :) Uhmm ... I like how you write, these past few days it become my obsession and joy. ( I am so sorry, I am so bad at giving compliments!)
Uhmmm .... If I may be so bold I would like to share an idea? I just thought about absolutely cocky and arogant male, womanizer Cerberos. The reader has love/hate relationship towards him. Well and after one wild party, he would corner reader and showed them his true form. And holding onto his word to rock reader´s world (quite literally)
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Hi! I'm so glad you enjoy my content, it means the world. Sorry for the long wait, adult life sucks so bad. Also, I added the anon question, hope you don’t mind. The idea that Cerberus is the one you hit on when tipsy sounds so cute to let it pass. I took the liberty to make cerberus a type of monster, so they’re just one of them and not THE cerberus, you know. I imagine they’re like a werewolf but with three heads, and like not human form, just a wolfy-guy with three heads. Each head talks separately, but in this there’s no difference between them to not make it hard to follow, but I think it’s quite good. Hope you enjoy! <3
Three heads are better than one
Cerberus (they/them) x fem!reader || fingering, public sex, dirty talk
When a cerberus started to work on your law firm, you two hit it the wrong way from the start. You were a top tier lawyer and they couldn’t understand that a human could be better than them. Three heads think better than one, how could a puny human like you be better than them? But you were, and it infuriated them. But it also fueled your banter with so much sexual tension you could taste it. But you didn’t do anything about it because everyone at the office knew they were a womanizer, they had a new girl every few days and never dated anyone. They were just there for the sex. Or that’s what everyone at the office said. But dang you wanted to hit it off with them so bad, you needed to know what their three mouths tasted like, how would it be to have three brains focused on your pleasure… That sounded delicious in the best possible way.
So when you catch them and their friends in a bar, after a few drinks, you think it’s time. You approach them and their friends at the end of the bar, ready to do something about your pent up sexual tension. You two have been dancing around each other for what feels like ages, and your tipsy brain thinks the best moment to do something about it is right now, right there. When you get closer, you can hear their friends making fun of them and elbowing them as they all giggle, pointing at you. You add a little bit of movement to your hips and hope it doesn’t look too ridiculous.
“Hi darling, how’s your night going?” You touch their pecs as all three of their heads focus on you. You blush, but keep caressing their torso over their shirt, you squeeze a bit and they slap your hand softly.
“Human, get lost.” You can’t understand how their voice can sound so harsh and so sexy at the same time, you can feel your panties melting. Maybe the alcohol has a part to blame, drinking always made you horny, and today is not different.
You pout, bating your lashes in your best puppy look. “Why are you always so mean?” Their three heads blink slowly at you, almost took out balance by your question.
“What? We’re not mean, you are just too soft,” they answer. You scoff, if they want to play that game you can give as better as receive. Uh, receiving… That’s exactly what you want. In a sexy way, against a wall if possible. They look like they can lift you up and fuck you.
“I’m not soft. I’m human. And you are mean.” You think you heard him say something about how they’re already aware that you are human, but you aren’t sure, the bar is really loud and the world is spinning around you.
“You need to go away before we do something all of us would regret.” Their central head is the one doing the talking, but the other two nod along.
“I don’t want to.” You know you sound bratty and entitled, but you are horny and everyone says they’re a womanizer, why are they not womanizing you? “You don’t like humans, is that it?”
“Trust me, they like humans. They like them reeeeeal good.” One of their friends says behind them. All of them laugh, but your coworkers are looking at you like they are going to dig a hole through your body just with their eyes.
“Come with me.” They sound fed up, like they are going to scold you and it’s going to feel awful. But your tipsy brain doesn’t process it fully, so you follow them without questioning. They lead you to the back of the bar, the hallway that leads to the bathroom. The music is softer there, you can listen to your own brain better.
They push you against the wall, they body pressing against your front. You shiver, anticipation filling your guts and their low growl making you whimper. “We can smell how wet you are, we can almost taste your desire. You are too tempting for your own good, honey.” You think the pet name was condescending every time they used it before, but at that moment, it sounds like a caress.
Their hands found the edge of your skirt as they grab your leg and position it against their hip. You are open and exposed, your skirt riding up and your soaked panties in the open. You whine again. You never felt as dirty and naughty as you do now, it’s maddening. They cress the outside of your thigh as they rock their hips against you, letting you feel their cock through your panties. You moan loudly.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please.” You know you’d be embarrassed beyond belief about it the next morning, but right now you don’t care. You can only think about how good their finger feels inside of you, and how much you wish that was their cock. When they move your panties to the side and push one finger inside your needy pussy, you cry out.
“Not here, little human.” They press against your G-spot, making your knees buckle under you. They grab your waist and holds you pressed against the wall as you pant. “If tomorrow you feel like this again, then we can talk.” They said, their fingers slowly thrusting into you.
“What?” You ask, trying to focus on their words and not the wonders they’re doing on your pussy. Their thumb rolls over your clit and you have to bite on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. It feels so good. You start to move your hips at the rhythm of their thrusts.
“We’ve been waiting forever to get your attention, We’re not wasting it on a quick fuck on a bar.” Their voice sounds serious and you feel confused as fuck. What are they talking about? They hate you, they always pick stupid fights with you over the silliest things.
“What?” You ask, trying to grab their hand but holding onto their shoulders, moving your hips faster. The rational part of you is not present, only your whore-ish part.
“We’ve been waiting to ask you out but we thought you wouldn’t want us.” They mutter that under their breath, you barely catch it.
“What?” You ask, once more. Are they saying they like you? They wanted to ask you out? But… But the gossip. They said they didn’t date, you never saw them with anybody, just random hookups. “What?” You ask again.
“You… We… We have a bit of a human kink with you, okay? You are so soft and so pretty. We can’t stop thinking about you. And then you get up in front of the judge and good lord do you look good. You look magnificent.” Their voice sounds amazed, like they are telling the truth and they truly like you. What the fuck?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your question is lost when their thumb starts rubbing against your clit. You think they answer something, but your brain is fuzzy with pleasure. “Stop touching my clit I can’t focus.” You whisper, trying to look at them and see if they aren’t lying. There’s no way they want you, is it?
“What if we don’t want you to focus? What if we want you coming around our fingers until you are crying out how much you love it? How much you like being stretched in public by us?” You moan so loud they have to cover your mouth with their unoccupied hand. “Shhh, be quiet. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” Your pussy involuntarily clenches around their fingers. “Oh, naughty girl, you do want to get caught. Does that excite you? Do you want everyone to see how improper you really are? You are such a good lawyer but then you part your legs for us in the back of the bar… Such a dirty, dirty woman.” You shiver, your juices flowing around their fingers. You’ve never been as turned on as you are right there, their fingers feel divine and you are so fucking close.
“Please…” Your plea sounds pathetic and you blush, but they just smirk at you, two of their heads attacking your neck at the same time. Feeling the two sets of mouths against your neck combined with the feel of their fingers moving inside of you is getting you so wet their hand is making filthy sounds.
“You are so wet for us, so soft. I bet you taste amazing. We are going to spend so much time licking you. Do you know what they say about cerberus?” You shake your head. “We give the best head because we have three of them. Do you want to feel three tongues against your pussy, honey? Do you want to be worshiped by three heads?” The image they are painting in your head is so good you want to open your legs and ask them to do it right there. But you are so close already, their fingers feel so fantastic inside of you.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rolling your hips. They accompany your movement, getting you almost to the edge.
“Are you going to come for us? Are you going to be a good woman and come around our fingers? We can’t wait to feel you around our dicks, bet you are going to feel better than any pussy we ever had. Our first human. Our only human. What are you gonna do, honey? Do you want to suck us off?” You nod eagerly, so close. “Of course you want to, you want to be a good little human for us.” You get the feeling them calling you human is doing more for them than for you. Their human kink is playing in your favor. “Come for us, human.” They whisper against your ear as the other two heads suck on your neck.
The combination of fingers and mouths makes your body shake uncontrollably against theirs, your orgasm so good you almost fall down. You can feel your juices dripping down and soaking your panties and their fingers. They take their fingers away and you watch in amazement as they raise their hand to lick it, all three of their heads getting some. You moan as aftershocks rock your body.
They put your panties back in place and slowly lower your leg. Your legs are shaky and you grab onto their arm. Three heads smile down at you, one of them looking specially smug. They pass an arm over your shoulders and help you walk out of the hallway. “Let us take you home.” They whisper, their hold on you so hard it feels wonderful. It feels so good you could fall asleep right there. They gave you the orgasm of your life and on top of it, they are sweet about it. You judged them so bad you feel like shit. You can always make it up to them at some point. You add it to your mental list of things to do in the morning, even though you know you won’t remember.
“There’s no need.” You try to argue, without any force behind your words. You really want to spend more time with them.
“We want to.” Their voice is final, you know that tone. That’s the tone they use in court, and you know you can’t win against it.
They drive you home as you fidget with your rings, nervous after what happened, after what they said. You want to run, to break the silence, but you are speechless. You don’t know what to say and the alcohol you had is kicking you really hard. You feel sleepy and tired, more than ready to go to bed.
They follow you to your house, opening your door and leading you to your bedroom where they help you get undressed. You think they are going to do something more, but they barely touch your naked body as they cover you with a blanket.
You feel three soft forehead kisses before they say: “We aren’t playing games with you, honey. We want to play with your pussy, yes, but not with your heart. We hope you give us a chance.” You nod, and try to answer, but your eyes are so heavy that you can’t keep them open, your brain shutting down.
When you wake up the next morning with a text saying: “We can’t wait to have you sucking our cock. And then we can go to dinner, we booked the fancy restaurant you like.” You giggle on your pillow and kick your legs. Yeah… That sounds like the start of a very fun game.
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paisleypens · 2 days
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Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful day, i just have a request if that’s okay.
Could you maybe do Spencer Reid x fem!reader who is smart but doesn’t really get the chance to show the areas she’s smart in? I don’t know if that makes sense, but like in other words she’s insecure because everyone else is so smart and can figure out things so quickly, yet her brain works slower and it takes her a while to figure things out? So she just feels dumb around them? And one day she overhears (I know none of them would do this but it's for the purpose of the story) someone talking bad abour her and uses the word dumb?
And then sweet little Spence finds her crying? You can have fun with the ending, I want you to have some freedom with it!
Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you have a wonderful day. And you don’t have to write this just a suggestion. (AND I LOVE YOUR SPENCER STORIES THEY’RE SO AMAZINGLY WRITTEN LOVE) 💗💗💗
I LOVE YOU STOP IT. this request is gorgeous and so real. i get really bad imposter syndrome so i hope yall find this as comforting as i did 🫶 i also haven’t been giving reid any love lately send some reid stuff my way!!
different strengths | spencer reid x f!reader
~~~
You sat at your desk, methodically typing out a report, trying to ignore the soft chatter of your colleagues in the bullpen. The rest of the BAU team always seemed to crack cases so effortlessly, piecing together intricate puzzles with the speed and precision of master craftsmen. You admired them, but the admiration often turned into a gnawing insecurity. Despite your intelligence, you struggled to keep up, your brain needing more time to process and connect the dots.
Your fingers paused over the keyboard as a murmur from the break room caught your attention. You couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard your name.
"...she's nice, but she just doesn't get things like we do. It's like, I don't know, her brain works slower or something. Maybe she’s just dumb."
Your heart sank. The word "dumb" hit you like a punch to the gut. Fighting back tears, you slipped away from your desk and found refuge in one of the empty offices. The door clicked shut behind you, and the dam broke. You sank into a chair, sobbing quietly into your hands.
Spencer Reid, with his keen observational skills, had noticed you slipping away. He had always been drawn to you, your kindness, and your unique perspective, even if you didn't see it yourself. Worried, he followed you and after a moment gently knocked on the door.
"Y/N? Are you okay?"
You quickly wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself, but your voice wavered as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, Spencer. Just needed a moment."
He wasn't convinced. He opened the door and stepped inside, his face etched with concern. "I heard what they said. I'm so sorry, Y/N."
Fresh tears welled up in your eyes. "It's true, Spencer. I just... I can't keep up with everyone. I feel so stupid."
Spencer's heart ached at your words. He moved closer, his eyes soft with empathy. "Y/N, you are not stupid. Your intelligence is just as valuable as anyone else's here. You see things differently, and that's a strength, not a weakness."
You looked up at him, sniffling. "But I never get to show what I'm good at. Everyone's always ten steps ahead."
Spencer knelt down beside your chair, his gaze earnest. "That's not true. You contribute in ways you might not even realize. The way you connect with victims' families, your attention to detail, your intuition... those are things none of us can do as well as you can."
His words were a balm to your wounded heart, and you managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Spencer."
He smiled back, a warmth spreading through him at your expression. "How about we get out of here? It's the end of the day, and I know a great place for ice cream. My treat."
You chuckled softly, feeling lighter already. "I'd like that."
As you both walked out of the office together, the tension began to fade. You exchanged stories, laughed about cases, and for the first time in a while, you felt seen and valued.
Sitting in the ice cream parlor, the two of you shared a banana split, your shoulders brushing occasionally, sending sparks of electricity through both of you. Despite your insecurities, Spencer's presence made you feel safe and appreciated.
As you finished the last bite, Spencer looked at you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "You know, Y/N, I've always admired you. You're smart, kind, and incredibly strong. Anyone who can't see that doesn't know what they're talking about."
Your heart fluttered at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot to me."
He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "Anytime. And remember, you're not alone. We all have different strengths, and together, we make a great team."
You squeezed his hand back, feeling a surge of affection for the man sitting across from you who would never grab anyone else’s hand normally. "I think so too."
As you left the parlor, the evening sun casting a warm glow over everything, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. And perhaps, you weren't the only one with feelings that had been hidden for far too long.
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vivwritesfics · 13 hours
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hey vivi! i saw this prompt somewhere and was wondering if you could do it with driver!reader & fernando? 😁
["You like him, don't you?"
"I-...no. Possibly. Maybe. Fine, yes."
"Hmm, why don't you tell him?"
"I can't, I don't want to ruin what we have for what I wish to have. He wouldn't. He could never like me back like that."]
I swapped it to fit a conversation I had with @biancathecool
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Fernando was disgusted with himself. Of course he was. He was a man in his forties and looking at his younger team mate like some kind of animal.
She was so gorgeous, he couldn't help himself. Even as she just sat there, looking so damn sweet. Eyes full of intruige as her engineer spoke to her.
Even worse, it was getting noticeable. As hard as Fernando tried to hide it, he just couldn't.
The other drivers noticed. Actually, everybody noticed but her. But it was Logan's dad - sorry, I meant Jenson - that brought it up to him.
"I see the way you look at her," Jenson said over a couple of drinks. "You like her, don't you?"
"I... no." But even as it left his lips, it didn't feel right. "Possibly, maybe." Maybe it was the alcohol getting to his brain that had him admitting things. "Fine. Yes, I like her."
Jenson laughed at him and finished his whiskey. "Fernando, why don't you just tell her?"
A dry, bitter laugh left Fernando's lips as he too finished his drink. "I can't do that," he said. "She's my teammate, my friend, and I'm at least twenty years older than her. I don't want to ruin what we have. Even for something I so badly wish for. She wouldn't like me back, Jenson. I'm too old for her."
He didn't know that she liked him right back. That was because she wasn't so obvious with it. She didn't stare at him longingly like he did with hers.
She walked past him in the garage the next morning. Fernando's headache was killing him and any noise had her snapping.
But not her noise. What noise was that?
Fernando held his arm out, stopping her before she walked last. "What are you singing?" He asked do softly that she almost didn't hear him.
She couldn't hide the embarrassment on her face. "It's a tiktok thing," she admitted as she played with her fingers, looking oh so nervous and cute.
He gave her a look, urging her to go on. She sucked in a breath, arms dropping to her sides as she stared at his hay, unable to meet his gaze.
"Nando is an alien and he is kinda spacey."
His eyes bulged, stopping her. "Nando? As in..."
"Yeah, you," she said, all embarrassed. "They normally have clips of you on top of your Renault with the music."
She watched tiktoks of him. She actually watched tiktoks of him! This was the best day of his life.
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hippolotamus · 2 days
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Sentence Sunday ✨
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I can show you lies 'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart
Beloved mutuals and pocket pals... I honestly don't know what to say for myself. This is a case of 'I listened to a song too much, I had an idea I knew I was never gonna write' turned 'I'll just throw it out as a prompt' --> 'I'll just make a moodboard' --> 'Oh god, I've written over 1k words in place of a summary'. SO. Have... whatever this is, T Swift influenced Buddie actor au. Under the cut to save your dash.
Honestly, if the world still exists in the morning, Eddie Diaz doesn't really give a fuck. His girlfriend left, claiming he's still not over his late wife, and his teenage son, the last thread connecting him to said wife, went to go live with his grandparents. After, of course, blaming Eddie for pushing 'yet another one' away. Christopher wouldn't even look at him before he went.
Then there's Anita Mills, his agent, who is probably a few blood pressure points away from a stroke at this point. Assuming she doesn't fire him first.
Let her, he thinks, grabbing a bottle of Maker's Mark from the cabinet. He has a string of blockbuster films to his name, not to mention a commendable collection of Oscar's and Emmy's. Not that they made his parents proud or kept his wife from leaving him before she died. But they exist as proof that he's had a successful career. Between investments and liquid assets he has more money than he would know what to do with in a hundred lifetimes. So, fuck it.
Eddie breaks the wax seal and twists off the red cap. He doesn't even bother with a glass, not really seeing a need. He's never been a big drinker, but lately his tolerance has grown considerably. Indulging until he passes out seems like an ideal use of his time right now anyway. If he wakes up after? Well, he'll consider that a success.
------------------
"Hey! What the hell?!" Eddie manages, coughing and trying not to choke on the ice cold water hitting his body. He opens his eyes to see Mills towering over him, glowering and holding an empty vase. He swipes a hand across his face. "Seriously, Anita, what the fuck was that?"
"I don't know, Eddie, you tell me." She disappears for less than a minute, returning with a hand towel she unceremoniously drops on his chest. "Help me out here. What's today?"
He wriggles himself to something resembling sitting and leans back against the coffee table. "What's today?" He parrots back dumbly.
Anita crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow. "I asked you first."
Today, today, today. Where was he supposed to be- "Shit! The interview with, uh, fuck." He snaps his fingers and racks his brain trying to remember a name or a face. All he knows is they're important.
"Claudette Collins. Very good, Eddie, you got it part way."
"Give me ten minutes, I'll put myself together and we can go," he says, fighting the violent wave of nausea that hits as he scrambles to stand up.
"Save your poor carpet from getting puked on and sit the hell down."
"What? No, I can-"
"Eddie," Anita interjects, "the interview was five hours ago. The interview with the Claudette Collins. The one that took me months of phone calls, groveling and cashing in favors to get for you."
Fuck. "Anita, I'm so sorry. How-"
"Save it." Anita holds her hand up, effectively silencing him. It takes him back to being seven years old and having to explain why his dad's truck had an enormous dent in it. She rests her hands on her hips, pacing back and forth as she purses her lips. Eventually she sits in the leather armchair situated in the corner. "Eddie, you and I have known each other a long time. A long time. I've been your agent since you walked into my shitty office back in Dallas. Given your impressive display of awards, I'd say we've done pretty well together."
She inhales sharply, rubbing at her temple. Anita doesn't mince words, it's part of why he's always liked her. He never has to question where he stands. She says 'jump' and he knows exactly how high. It's not difficult to guess what's coming next.
"Eddie, I know you're going through a rough patch. What you're dealing with is hard enough without seeing it splashed on every tabloid and trashy website. Not to mention none of those places knows the real story, so it's all a bunch of 'she said he might have said' bullshit. But you've made it through tougher things." Anita doesn't need to clarify that she's talking about Shannon's death and how his parents tried to take Christopher. "I don't know what's happening this time, but I need to take a step back. My wife has made it very clear that all of my attempts at stress management are not working and that if I can't get it under control I shouldn't be surprised when I come home to an empty house. So."
Eddie swallows, waiting for the inevitable and cursing himself for pretending he wouldn't care.
"I've talked to a few friends in the business and found someone willing to take you on."
What?
"What? You're not firing me?"
Anita's features soften. "Technically, yes. I am very much dropping you like a scorpion I found in my boots. However, like I said, I found someone willing to work with you. The name is Bobby Nash. He runs a smallish agency but don't let that throw you. He's cobbled together some pretty impressive talent. I assume you've heard of Evan Buckley?"
Eddie scoffs. "Of course I have. Who hasn't? Christ, he's everywhere you look. I can't pass a damn bus stop without seeing his face." A few details begin to click into place within Eddie's muddled brain. "Bobby Nash is his agent?"
"Sure is. And we all know the stories about Evan's past aren't the type you trot out at parties. My advice is that you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, go with Nash and do whatever he tells you to do. He even has a role in mind for you, costarring with Buckley. What do you say?"
What else was there to say? If Eddie didn't want to get blacklisted or wind up as some washed up tragic Hollywood story, being gossiped about where everyone - including his son - could see what a failure he was...
"I guess I say- when can I meet him?"
"Good answer." Anita clasps her hands together and gives him her signature smirk that tells him she approves. "Just leave everything to me."
Up to this point, Eddie has trusted Anita implicitly with all the messy business that comes with having him for a client. Why stop now?
tagged by @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @tizniz
np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest @fortheloveofbuddie
@weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow
@taketheplanspinitsideways @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz
@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend
@thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @underwaterninja13 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss
@steadfastsaturnsrings @inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes
@shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress
@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05
@lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus
@thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘
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chan-skz · 1 day
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Makeup - Bang Chan
His fingers were delicate. He was so close to you, you weren't used to such closeness. You prayed he couldn't notice the growing blush on your cheeks, as his gaze was focused on your makeup. You made the mistake of leaving your house without an umbrella, not having bothered to check the weather forecast, thus finding yourself stuck in the rain, ruining completely your hair and makeup.
"You're so stupid." Chan said slightly coldly, tearing his gaze away from you for a short moment to change accessories. You pouted, crossing your arms. He wasn't wrong, you should have thought better.
You decided to ignore his comment, watching him cleverly place a bit of the concealer against the back of his hand and lightly tap your beauty blender against it. At least you had the decency to bring your makeup bag with you. “I didn’t know you knew how to put on makeup.” Speaking of makeup, you didn't even know that he was an expert on that either.
"Don’t judge me, but I watched several videos just in case my girl friends needed help. And also I sometimes had to retouch my own makeup behind the scenes during concerts." He added calmly with a small grin on his face. But his expression quickly returned to focus as he began to apply the cosmetic on your skin. "So yes, I can manage to do it. I'm telling you all that because by the look on your face, you look rather surprised."
The sweet smile he gave you made your heart race. But you pushed all feelings aside, you had no chance. Not only was he your friend, but also an extremely coveted man. After all, how could such a perfect man be attracted to someone like you? So many girls would dream of being in your shoes right now. He could easily get girls much more beautiful and experienced than you in a snap of a finger.
"Are you okay?" He snapped you out of your thoughts, his gaze boring into yours. You nodded slightly, smiling softly at him. “From the way you look, you’re clearly not okay.”
You tried to reassure him but he cut you off directly. “Do you want me to make you feel better?” You stare at him, not knowing what his next move. Before you could even retort, his face moved closer to yours. "Can I?" His gaze was fixed on your lips. You didn't know what to say. Your face was red like a tomato, you slowly nodded it. This was the last thing you would’ve expect from him.
His lips were soft and delicious. Kissing your own friend had never been on your bingo of the year, but here you are, sharing a soft kiss that he himself had requested. Quickly, the makeup was forgotten and the kiss became more intense. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands came to grip your hips.
Suddenly he withdrew. "I forgot you had makeup on. Sorry I didn’t want to ruin it for you again." It was clear he didn't mean it. Seeing your lipstick ruined turned him on so much, but was he even going to admit it to you?
You laughed, knowing that this heated exchange had already done it. "You're telling me that when it already happened. Look at yourself in the mirror, your lips and the area around your mouth are completely stained." You wanted to kiss him again when you saw that it was his turn to be flustered by your comment. You took this opportunity to tease him even more.
“You know, you can ruin my makeup however you want and even further.” You smirked lewdly, gently sliding your hand down his chest to his crotch, clearly insinuating your desire for more than a kiss. In a flash he took your hand and pulled you towards another room. It all happened so quickly that your brain only registered the fact that you were now on his bed, him leaning against you.
“Say that again?” Now you were the one being humbled. You didn't expect this turnaround, even less from him. He had always been the shy type, although sometimes he could be bold. It was all part of his personality, but right now the person you were facing wasn't the same Chan you knew.
Suddenly you lost your voice, you didn't dare look at him, feeling ashamed.
Before you could even open your mouth, you felt his lips exploring your neck. A small moan escaped your lips when he coincidentally found your sensitive spot. You couldn’t help but wrap your legs around his hips and arms around his shoulders, pulling him as close to you as possible. Doing so, you could feel his bulge against your core.
“Fuck don’t do that, baby. If you keep provoking me I won’t be able to hold back any longer.” He said in a deep voice in your ear. His tone gave you chills and he felt it. You were going to retaliate, but before you could even get a word out of your mouth he pulled out of you and knelt between your legs. His hands firmly grabbed your panties and a dirty smirk crowned his face. "Silly me, I completely forgot that you gave me permission to ruin your beautiful makeup. I’ll be happy to do so and honey, forget my words, I’m not going to hold back on you.”
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emmyrosee · 2 days
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okay so, this evening has not been fun for me, so ofc I’m gonna try coping via escapism 🤩
and as always you are absolutely NOT obligated to write it. I’m so serious, if you don’t want to there’s absolutely zero pressure emmy, I’d completely understand one hundred percent.
very long story short, I got my grades back for this semester and despite doing soooo much better overall this year than my first year and not failing a single class this time around, unless I get a miracle it’s looking like I’m going to have to be asked to withdraw from my university for a whole year ☹️
and as someone who got straight As from elementary til my last year of high school/made school my whole life, this is just an enormous blow to any self confidence I had finally built back up. I was doing better mentally and finally feeling a bit like myself again and I’ve just felt so sick with anxiety all evening because I don’t even know what to do anymore. If they decide to ask me to leave, it’ll make my chances of medical school even slimmer than they already were and I can’t help but feel like a bit of a failure and like I’ve just ruined my future despite knowing it’s not all true and I still have options :(
it’s so hyper specific and I’m so so so sorry abt that, but would it be possible for some comfort + tons of fluff with kuroo possibly? I just want to be babied a bit by this fictional man LOL. I feel like he’d know exactly what to do and how to get my mind off of it until I inevitably get that email :(
anon <3
My love, I am so sorry you’re having to go through this, and I am here, to PERSONALLY, tell you that you are far from a failure, and you should still be proud of yourself for getting so far. It’s okay to have bumps like this that halt your dreams, and it doesn’t make you any less deserving of continuing to chase those dreams. And hey! Use me as an example! I went from being a mechanic for four years and being fired for being so terrible (yes that is an actual thing that happened) then I went to college for writing; and now I’m a licensed esthetician with a focus in makeup artistry! There is no such thing as a dead end, no such thing as a closed room, just keep treating yourself gently and reminding yourself that this is far from over, your dream is still more than obtainable with some time and it is more than okay.
Ahem. Let me get off my soapbox PFFFF-
——-
Last night, you refreshed your emails who knows how many times, staring at your computer screen on the verge of hyperventilating for what felt like hours- and it might have been; your brain can’t process how long it was right now.
Your bottom lip was tight between your teeth, the hand on the mouse pad trembling, waiting in anticipation, tight with nerves. Your other rested a fist on your lap, waiting for the results and occasionally wiping a rogue tear that falls.
There’s a soft rapping on the door, but you don’t turn to face it. You merely keep refreshing.
“Hey,” tetsuro whispers, and you hear his feet padding into the room, and when he gets next to you, he crouches down. Once again, you can’t spare him a glance. “Any updates?”
You stay silent. He winces, “I’ll take that at a no…” he lays a warm hand on your back and gently rubs it in circles, “it’s okay baby. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”
“Tetsuro, please,” you whimper, not quite in the mood for a pep talk. “I’m going to puke right now, my life is in flames and crumbling around me, I’m so nervous, please. Save the pep talk, I can’t handle it right now.”
“I'm sorry,” he soothes. He doesn’t say anything further, just rubbing your back in slow, firm circles with his palm, blinking his golden eyes up at you warmly, lovingly.
You feel your body cramp from being under his loving touch, suddenly dawning on you just how long you've been sitting in the chair, inert and unwilling to peel your eyes from the email inbox. You suddenly become hyperaware of how your legs feel numb, your fingers are cramped and your eyes are burning. It's the first time in hours you've taken a break from your refreshing to scrub at your eyes, breeding a wetness to try and soothe the sting.
You hear Tetsuro sigh, "why... don't we go to bed, angel?"
"No."
"But-"
"I can't," you whimper. "Not now. Not yet-" your breathing picks up as you look at him in despair, chest fluttering and heart pounding as you try to breathe. He furrows his brows and shushes you softly, big hands moving to cradle your cheeks and force you to look at him.
"Baby," he says softly, but firm enough to ground you. "It's late. They're not going to send it this late at night. And if they do, we'll deal with it when we wake up tomorrow. But I'm almost certain they're not going to send it to you this late. I promise, okay?"
You let out a shaky sigh and look at the time: 22:43. It's far too late to be thinking, to be worrying, and you'd much rather breakdown in the comfort of your own bed, than alone in this wooden chair.
But you do know that, no matter what, Tetsuro is going to be right next to you, rubbing your back and cradling you close.
When you say nothing, Tetsuro slowly stands up and scoops you in his big, strong arms, "come on, angel face. Let's get some rest." You thunk your head against his chest and fist your fingers into the collar of his shirt, letting him carry you to the bathroom where he plops you down on the countertop.
He grabs your toothbrush and some toothpaste, and gently tells you to open, which you sleepily do. He's extra careful, making sure to get every tooth he can, scrubbing softly as to not make you uncomfortable. Silence, save for the bristles on the toothbrush, fills the room, the corner of Tetsuro's tongue sticking out in focus.
"Okay. Spit," he says, moving so you can comfortably turn your head and spit the froth out. Skincare comes next, and his touch is even softer as he massages in every product you use.
"Good girl," he whispers, picking you back up to carry you to bed. "My good girl. Good, brave girl..."
You drift off in his arms at his praise, not even feeling the way he gets you into pajamas or gets you under the covers, the exhaustion of the constant high of anxiety weighing you down.
Waking up this morning, your bones feel like bricks under the wall of your muscles, barely able to move under the force of it all. Your skin feels like paper, so hyper aware of it now that you’ve had the time to come down from your anxious state. You blink up at your ceiling, eyelids tight as you do, and you continue to stare and let your body wake up molecule by molecule, inch by inch. You feel it coming to life, and you slowly bring your hands up to press the heels of your palms into your eyesockets to force the rest of the sleep out of your eyes.
When your hand then drops next to you, you feel yourself grow saddened at the lack of warmth. Tetsuro’s been out of bed long enough to let his side cool down, and it makes you want to cry at the idea of being alone right now.
You never should’ve shut him down last night. All he wanted to do was help, and you shut him up and made him feel bad, now he’s not even in bed with you anymore, and you feel tears sting at your eyes again, this time out of anxiety of making him upset, and-
“Ah, you’re up.”
Your guilty, howling mind shuts up as soon as tetsuro’s body makes its way into the doorway, smiling and stirring his tea with a spoon. “Good morning, babygirl.” He takes a step into the bedroom and before you know it, he’s at your side, sitting on the bed next to you. He uses his free arm to wrap around you, but not pull you to his chest. “Did you sleep okay?”
“No,” you whimper, voice croaky. He nods and lets his thumb rub up and down the curve of your shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you last night.”
His brow cocks in confusion, “huh?”
Now, finally, you turn to face him, “I snapped at you… I told you to-“
“You told me you didn’t want a pep talk,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s okay. You’re allowed to tell me that my words might not be the most helpful. I’m not going to get mad at you for that. It’s not like you told me to shut my ugly ass up- you’d never do that, I’m too pretty.”
This, for the first time in what feels like days, has you crack a smile. You let out a small laugh, breathy and barely there, but he smiles proudly all the same, pulling you in for a hug now. “You’re a goof,” you murmur.
“And you, need to eat something,” he whispers against your head, and you deflate in his arms again. “Don’t you protest me, you know you have to eat something.”
“‘M not hungry,” you say.
“I know, but you didn’t eat last night, and I let you sleep in-“ at his words, your eyes flick to the clock on your nightstand, red numbers flicked onto 10:24. “You have to have something.”
“But-“
“I know,” he says. “Do you want something sweet, or savory?”
20 questions. It’s something he does after a fit of your anxiety to try and make your life just a hair easier, decisions quicker, and your day just a bit brighter because you’re getting exactly what you want. He claims he used to do it with kenma, hence why he’s so good at it.
“Uhm…” you shrug, “why not both?”
“Both?” He echos. “Okay. Do you want fruit?” You nod. He nods with you. “Okay. How about a bagel?” You nod again. “Okay. With some cream cheese?” You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, “butter?” You shake your head again, “okay. Uhmmmm-“
“I want to do it,” you mumble, and he presses a kiss to your head.
“You sure? Because I can whip something up-“
“I have to do it. I have to put the toppings on my bagel.”
He nods a final time and squeezes you close, “okay. If you need any help deciding, I’m right here, okay? I’ll be cutting your fruit.”
You hum and slowly swing your legs out of the bed, stretching and mewling from the force. When your hand instinctively darts for your phone, he clicks his tongue, "leave it. You don't need it right now."
"But-"
"I told your family to text me if they need you. Your phone is on do not disturb. Leave it there, babe." He swings his own long legs over and extends a hand out to you, wiggling his fingers enticingly for you to hold. When you grab three of them, he smiles and slowly leads you into the kitchen.
The news is playing on tv at a low volume, there’s a discarded blanket on the couch, and you quirk a brow in intrigue, “tetsu, how did you know I was awake?”
He shrugs, “my life shifts when you wake up for the day. I feel it in my soul.”
“Ew.”
“Shaddup.”
You laugh again, smiling a weak smile as you plop down at the table. He makes his way to begin cooking your bagel, popping it in the toaster before making his way to cut up your fruit. You sigh and play with your fingers, wondering if you should make conversation, or let silence rule, and you sigh shakily before opening your mouth to speak. “What’re you going to have?”
“I, my love, already ate some toast with some apple jelly and butter.”
“Oh.”
“But I’m going to pick at some fruit with you, because I don’t want you eating alone.”
“You don’t have to do that-“
“I know,” he hums. Then, he turns to face you with a smile. “I want to.”
Your heart flutters as you smile at him, looking down at your fingers to distract yourself. Usually, you’d be scrolling through your social media, checking apps and emails, but since he forbade it, you’re left to listen to him sing softly and the newscaster drone on and on. After a few short minutes, your bagel pops, and he plates it with some sliced fruit and places it in front of you, before kissing your head and grabbing various toppings for it.
Breakfast drags, but in a comforting way, where it drips by so slow like honey, syrupy sweet as Tetsuro talks. He talks about everything and anything, about the game Kenma's going to stream for charity, and the funny meme he sent the streamer- or funny to Tetsuro at least, as allegedly Kenma left him on read. You find yourself eating at his company, and before you know it, your bagel, juice, and fruit is gone. You look down at your plate in surprise, and he wiggles his brows at you, "feel better, angel?"
"Uhm... yeah," you say, almost confused. "I didn't think I was that hungry."
"I don't care how you thought, I'm glad you ate." He stands out of his chair with a stretch, "you still hungry? I can make you another-"
"No," you sigh. "I... I really should check my email-"
"Not until I give you a bath and a massage."
You quirk your brow, "you're going to give me a bath and a massage?"
"Of course," he chuckles, "If you're too anxious to give yourself some self care, that's plenty fine, but that means I'm going to give you self care." He shrugs, "those are just the rules."
"Do you even know how to give a massage?"
"Bokuto and I used to massage each other after practice all the time." Your brow quirks higher, and he holds his hand up, "don't ask. Just trust me."
"Can Bokuto give me a massage?" You tease, giggling at the way he gives you a fake smile and a high pitched "no," to tease you.
He presses a kiss to your head, "I'm going to go run the bath, why don't you get changed and meet me in there?"
"Okay," you hum. He nudges your nose with a finger before stalking down the hall to the bathroom. When your hear the tub running, you make a dash towards the small office room for your laptop, nervous to check your email, and-
"I took it out!" He calls, followed by a cackle.
"You're an ass!"
"It's your favorite ass, though!"
You grumble and make your way to the bedroom to get undressed per his request, stealing one of his oversized shirt to conceal yourself until the tub is filled. You stalk into the bathroom and blush under the way his eyes glaze up and down you, "fuck, I love you in my clothes."
"Back off, I'm about to bathe," you snort.
"Yeah, but I can still find you hot." As the tub fills, he adds a scoop of epsom salt, and a splash of bathing bubbles, large bubbles brewing on the surface of the water. You smile and watch them shape and form, the sweet smell filling the air around you. You feel excitement brewing inside of you as you watch him turn off the water and push himself up and off the floor with the edge of the tub, "should do it, baby. I'm gonna let you soak, I'll set up for a little massage after, make you nice and comfortable.
"Okay," you mewl. He presses a kiss to your lips and makes his way to the door. "Hey, Tetsu?" You say, reaching for his hand, which he takes happily. "Thank you."
"Anything for you, babygirl," he whispers. "You know that." He pinches your cheek and leaves the bathroom for you to relax.
The bath water is warm as you soak in the epsom salt, feeling your muscles loosen and relish in the combination. You bury your face in the bubbles and close your sleepy eyes, letting the smells lull you into a state of relaxation. Your head is still heavy with anxiety, but your heart is full of love and warmth for your boyfriend.
You're not sure how long you were floating in silence, lost in the bubbles and oils, but he gently knocks on the door, "you okay? Haven't heard you for a bit."
"Yes," you mewl, stretching. The water is now chilly and the bubbles are mostly gone and you rub your hands over the surface of the water. "Is the massage stuff ready?" You tease, looking at your hands and wincing at how pruny they are.
"It's been ready, I didn't want to bother you," he snickers. “Come out when you’re ready, just wanted to make sure you were alive.”
“I’m alive, I’m coming,” you call, getting out of the tub to dry yourself. You take your time drying off, trying to enjoy the last little bit of warmth clinging to your skin. You leave the bathroom to get dressed into some clean pajamas, smiling as tetsuro busies himself with the whole massage set up. “Candles? You spoil me.”
“There’s a lot of smells going on,” he says with a face.
“I know I can tell,” you hum. Getting dressed, you slip on a pair of his boxers and a shirt, and you make your way to the bed to wait for him.
“Alright-“ he pats the bed for you to crawl on top of. “C’mere, let me pamper you.”
You giggle, “you have been pampering me!” Regardless, you swing your legs onto the bed and lay on your stomach, squeaking as he straddles you and cracks his knuckles.
He lays a massive paw on each of your shoulders, using his thumb to splay and press the muscle under his force, and your eyes cross in the middle and flutter in relaxation. They work in circles to press into the muscles, before laying flat on your back to dig his heel into before his fingers press and roll back up to your shoulders.
Thick fingers roll over the knot in your right shoulder, no doubt from the refreshing of the page for hours on end last night. You whine and bury your face in the bed, and he hums, "I know beautiful, I almost got it."
"Feels good," you murmur.
"Told you it would," he says softly. “You need to trust me.”
“I think I trust you too much,” you snicker. Tetsuro says nothing, merely offering you a laugh through his nose as he continues with the massage.
Your body twitches as the tips of his fingers dig into your side as part of the massage, but your snicker doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “Something wrong?” He hums, doing it again.
"Tetsu!" You giggle, reaching behind you to try and stop his wrists, "that tickles!"
"That's crazy, I'm not tickling you," he snickers, and it's hard to tell if he's lying or not. "I mean, I can tickle you, if you want-"
"No!" You squeal, and your laughter turns choppy as he uses the sides of his hands to playfully chop up and down your back, making your body instinctively let out bumpy noises from your mouth.
“Quite an attitude on ya today,” he taunts, before hooking his fingers up under your arms, making you shriek, “okay, now I’m tickling you.”
Your mind spins from the sensory change, the signals in your brain cross, but one thing is for certain:
The email is far from the front of your mind.
And it feels good to laugh.
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thegnomelord · 11 hours
Note
Hello there! I'm a new anon, kinda scared to ask and spill all of my weird ass fantasies that I can come up with, but I somehow found the courage to do so.
After reading through the soft sex fic with Makarov (and omfg I am going CRAZY over it) I just randomly came up with an idea involving that.
So hear me out (aka let me just be delusional)...
You, a member of 141, currently stand in the interrogation room, your back facing the door as you stared down at the one and only Vladimir Makarov himself. It was honestly a miracle that you had been able to capture him, and you still had no idea how the hell the rest of your team had managed it.
You were currently their last hope at getting some sort of information out of him, and by now the others knew very well by now how talented you were at getting it out of prisoners (albeit they didn't quite know what your methods were), hence why you were here in this room.
At this point you might as well have tried everything, these including the good old torture methods (which you noticed he seemed to quote like for some reason, perhaps he was a masochist, you weren’t completely sure), intimidation, asking politely (which wouldn't you know, didn't work), and practically everything you could think of.
As you racked your brain for any sort of other ideas, you could hear some sort of taunt from the other, and that must have set you off or something along those lines as you found yourself suddenly pinning the bastard down on the desk (you must have unlocked his handcuffs at one point during it, or perhaps he had already managed to unlock them beforehand, you weren't paying attention).
You wanted to think that the other was surprised, even just a little bit, but he wasn't, having probably expected you to have a small outburst.
Maybe you would have to resort to that. That one method that none of the others had seen in action, but one that if they did, you'd definitely get in a lot of trouble from. At least it always seemed to work.
So that's how you found yourself slowly fucking the other, not at all causing any pain, and although you'd expect the cold metal table would still inflicted just a little, you had taken the precaution to place something soft under the other to ensure that he couldn't get what he wanted. This was torture, even if in the eyes of others (not that they'd ever get to see this sight) it'd be much better, but no, it wasn't. You were well aware that the other wished for it to be harsh, having picked up on it earlier (the sick bastard), so you did the complete opposite. You weren't exactly used to it, but it was a last ditch effort.
So yeah thanks for reading whatever the hell that was :)
Idk how to continue it.
- ⨂ (I swear if that symbol has already been taken)
No no dude this is so good! SOrry it took me a lil while to respond lol, but you got my brain worms going brrrrrr so I'm just continuing it :Dd.
CW: NSFW, MDNI, Vladimir Makarov x male reader, short ficlet
You are so getting discharged for this.
"Is this what you wanted?" You ask under your breath, voice husky and raw. You grip his hip gently, your other hand keeping his tied wrists pinned to the scratchy blanket covering the cold table. "All that snark, all those insults," You slowly grind your hips, cock lazily scrapping against his walls and making him groan. "Is this what you wanted?"
It's not like he can talk with his tie gagging him. It's the softest material you had on hand, and it works to ensure Makarov doesn't bite you or himself. You're smart, despite him thinking on the contrary, more than the gruff animals that had captured him. No, you're clever. Clever enough to realize bloodshed and pain are not the stones that pave Makarov's road to hell.
Makarov trembles beneath you, teeth clenching on the fabric, desperate to get his lip between his teeth so he could bite it raw. He can't. Hell he can barely stifle the groans and moans, chest heaving to swallow the sound before it can stumble past his open mouth when your head grinds down on his prostate. Drool runs down his chin, precum leaking on his belly where his cock is trapped between your belies.
He wants to curse you out, wants to get his hands around your throat and squeeze until you choke on your own blood. But he only manages a small grunt, tear blurred eyes glaring up at you. His legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your back.
A lick of pain races up your spine, but you don't fall for it, languidly rolling your hips. You'd taken your time to stretch him out with what you had, prepping him thoroughly even when he'd trashed and tried to kick you. You're glad you did, now Makarov can't ignore the stretch of his hole, your massive cock moulding his insides to your shape. It's just raw unadulterated feeling, please assaulting his mind whenever you bottom out and your cock bulges his stomach without any pain; so sweet it's sickening to him.
He'd kick himself at how the disgustingly sweet pleasure has his cock twitching, body winding tight as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. But his mind is starting to go numb, the hate he feels shrouded by the nearing edge of bliss. He nearly seizes off the table when you wrap your calloused hand around the base of his cock, squeezing until he's just at the cusp of pain.
"Nu-uh." You growl and stop, cock twitching deep inside him. Leaning down to press gentle kisses across his throat that burn him like acid. "You're not getting off easy." You growl, kissing the corner of his lip. "Not until you give me what I need." You look at him expectantly.
He bares his teeth, swinging his head to try and headbutt you, but you pull your head just at the right time.
"Have it your way." Your grip relaxes, starting to jerk him off at the same pace of your languidly rolling hips. His head rolls back, his best attempt at a hateful sound escaping him when his head rests on the soft blanket. He hates it, tries to struggle as best he can but it's fruitless as you just hold him down, forcing him to just take it, to just suffer this gentle torture.
You may be discharged for this. But fuck, you'll make him suffer before you are.
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respectthepetty · 3 days
Text
Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Sky/Prapai) 1/3
The crowd picked Love in the Air as the first show to ever move off of my Petty List, so I'm watching it and recapping my experience, and oh boy, is it an *experience*. I wrote about the first seven episodes in two parts [here and here], so it's time to dive into the next six episodes!
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Woot woot!
I had to make sure I didn't click on episode one again because it's the same scenes showing again. This is the third time they have been shown? Fourth? I'm here for one thing and one thing only. Quit bullshitting LiTA and GIVE ME WHAT I CAME FOR!
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Oh my God, my heart just jumped into my throat with this music and this lighting behind this devil.
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I know how their story starts. I already knew. I will be not be upset at him. I will not get into my feelings about this even though this music and lighting are hellbent on making Prapai seem like The Worst™
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I would love to claim "pink = 💕love💕" but not today, Satan.
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Sky saying "Where's the condom?" as more of a demand rather than a question and the arch of his back are an appreciation post in themselves. This is transactional and he is not here to make friends.
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WHY AM I BEING SHOWN RAIN AND PAYU AGAIN?! If you don't have enough material for thirteen episodes, just say it! Because my boy disassociated, went on autopilot, and is now tucking this nightmare away in a dark corner of his mind in true Trauma Compartmentalizing 101 fashion, yet I gotta see Payu and Rain's Daddy x Baby nonsense another round?! I only respect one person in this house and the rest of these men can choke. I wrote what I wrote.
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Hold up, Prapai was AWAKE when Sky left looking like that? And now he is reminiscing about it in all black with that black rose of death lapel pin? *Arthur Fist*
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I support queer rights AND queer wrongs, but this show is testing me like I'm fucking Frodo having to deliver a ring to the depths of hell in the month of Pride. Sky just went home and cried on his bed, while this woman is talking about getting over heartbreak because Prapai can't stop thinking about this one-night stand. I cannot be queer and *here* in these conditions with el diablo smirking every two seconds.
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KinnPorsche, my old enemy, we meet again. Didn't think I'd see you here, but it tracks because where there is a rich bastard incapable of getting over the poorer man he wrongfully exerted power over, there will be a robe, wine, and a sex worker. (That boy looks like the Memory in the Letter lead)
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"I feel sorry for your prey" - Everyone is too busy looking at the metaphorical weather that represents the characters to notice the red alert standing right there.
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On God, if a man called me like that without telling me his name and proceeded to just . . . be creepy, it'd be on like Donkey Kong. I was raised by Sidney Prescott from Scream and if a man wants to play games over the phone, then he needs to be prepared to die. And what is it with this show trying to distract me with with these problematic men working out? I know they are attractive, but as Michelle Visage stated "stop relying on that body!" AND NOW CREEPY TEXTS, and the only thing Sky thinks is a "man like that wouldn't be into [him]" . . . BL boys would greatly benefit from feminism.
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Prapai, you have to get less creepy. You just have to because this is not it, my man. You are throwing out the beginning-of-a-psycho-killer vibes and I cannot. I simply. Can. Fucking. Not.
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Sky is pissed at Rain, threw the flowers, and has Prapai listed as "Psycho" so it's clear who has the brain cell of these weather boys, and it's the one whose back is hurting FROM CARRYING THE WEIGHT OF THE DAMN WORLD ON HIS SHOULDERS!
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I will not be swayed by the sunflowers, the fact that Prapai is aware Sky is a Sad Boy, or the blue. As far as I'm concerned, by the end of this episode, Prapai is still the devil. NEXT EPISODE!
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The energy between these two is giving me GMMTV "brothers," and that is not a compliment.
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I'm not going to fault Sky for not throwing away the flowers because reuse, recycle, re-
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!
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*took a six hour break and contemplated the meaning of life, made an avocado smoothie then poured rum in it, started doing yoga then ended up in savasana, which means I just laid there and looked at the ceiling, and finally I remembered the gorgeous Zani is in this show, so I returned*
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This boy is me and I am him. I'm so chill that if I got any cooler, I'd be an ice cube. Just chilling. So chill. The chill is immaculate. I am meditating. I am praying. I am one with the storm. I'm the chillest. Climate change no longer exists because I'm just, so, fucking, chill. ~Let's continue~
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I don't want to give Prapai any credit because I already told my mom I hate him which means we are sworn enemies in this life and future ones as well, but him noticing that Sky spaced out even though he immediately jumped back into flirting mode, and him reinforcing that he thinks Sky is attractive in any state including this one should be an issue because he is still focusing on Sky's body, but he doesn't know Sky well enough to have anything else, so . . . one whole point for Slytherin, I guess.
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Rain is not a real one and if Sky was a rapper, this in when he would have dropped the ultimate diss track cementing his place in academic rhetoric for all eternity. Even if I didn't know about his ex, I could have read that expression, but Rain? Once again, one brain cell, and Sky has it.
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I want to give Prapai the points for the food, but he doesn't even know what Sky likes, so this is White Man Ambition at its finest. Thank goodness that Sky is throwing it awa-
NOT THE FUCKING RED AGAIN!
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Dear Reader, I'm going to level with you here one and a half episodes into this arc: I now fully understand The Fuckery. I greatly appreciate the 126 people who picked this show because this is the perfect example of what I keep reading about a MAME series. The abrupt shifts between aggressive flirting, dick jokes, and trauma is jarring. I knew the kidnapping was coming for Rain, but hearing Stop say that Rain would be sexually assaulted by his gang of men if Payu didn't stop fighting back was the most violent moment of an already physically violent event that, strangely, did not affect me until that very moment. I know what is coming for Sky, yet having these intercuts of Sky's abuse, although effective, are humbling in a way I was not expecting. Because what I had thought I was walking into was a trashy watch with gratuitous sex talk and some drama, but what I'm experiencing is a lot of emotional discord as the story swings between extremes while refusing to balance itself out. There is no middle ground in this show. I will continue to be petty about this watch, but I get it now in a way I was never going to grasp without watching one of her series and I'm graciously realizing I would not have survived TharnType because even as Prapai connects the dots that something *very bad* has happened to Sky based on his interactions with Sky, he smiles because . . . well, because.
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So even though Sky and Prapai's arc is smaller than the first, my watch is going to be in three parts instead of just two because . . . well, because.
~Let's continue~
I'm going to try really hard to give Slytherin points here, *grinds teeth* so even though this man is stalking Sky, he gets credit for showing up, which according to the great philosophers, is half the battle. Also, I know his lapel pins are important, so the sunflower and the bee after he gave Sky meaningful sunflowers is a nice sentimental touch, but he gets no points because HE COULD'VE OFFERED THE BOY A RIDE! The perfect pitch was right there, yet he swings and misses.
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I don't listen to true crime podcasts, but I feel confident that most cases start with a stalker using several devices to contact their victim after his primary mean is blocked. Basically, I need Prapai to do as Sky's shirt says and "CHILL THE FUCK OUT!" I'm trying to give him points but he refuses to exhibit any level of chill. None. No chill. Not ice cube. Just sad hot puddle of zero chills.
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I felt *something* between Sig and Som when they were arguing across the tables in episode seven, but now I know Sig is trying to instigate a fight with Som just so he can have that boy's hands around his neck. I respect it.
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Sky is having a breakdown because of the onslaught of texts Prapai keeps sending him from multiple devices and as he huddles in the fetal position begging to be left alone having bursts of anger, the phone begins to vibrate signaling more texts are coming through. The director, Ne, also served as an editor on Only Friends, and if he whispered in Jojo's ears to make Ray's bathtub scene just as gut-wrenching as this, I just wanna eat some soup with Ne and know like "You good, boo?"
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I am fighting for my life in these trenches!
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Rain picked up Sky's phone and told Prapai to come to the hospital. Rain? Rain who was on his knees begging for Sky's forgiveness after he gave Sky's number to Prapai? As in the Rain who was told to stay out of Sky's business? Like the same Rain who Sky looked in his face and told him he would never be with Prapai? THE RAIN WHO IS NOW GIVING PRAPAI THE KEY TO SKY'S APARTMENT?! That Rain?!
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"I made a promise to Rain" - Pero like . . . why do you have to make promises to not fuck with unconscious and sick people? Cause shouldn't that be a given? No? Mmm. Interesting development.
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I have only watched two episodes. TWO! I'm not even halfway through this AND I know how this ends. No amount of knowledge or spoilers has properly prepared me for this journey, and now I'm scared and I want my mom to come pick me up.
But here I am. Clicking on the next episode.
pinche cabrón
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lovelynim · 12 hours
Text
All's fair in love and war
Honkai Star Rail - Aventurine x Caelus
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A/N: This time I'm happy to post an official commission for none other than @eliankrios himself. Thanks for being such a kind customer and for your patience and understanding!!! I hope you like it!
Summary: Countering Aventurine's luck takes more than just skill, but if you're going to play dirty, you shouldn't let yourself get caught...
Word count: 2975 words
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Caelus was ticklish - a fact that Aventurine happened to discover by accident, but one that he was particularly interested in. 
The problem, however, resided in the fact that there wasn’t a way to test it by himself. Aventurine had met Caelus not long ago during his business trip in Penacony and his interactions with the mr. Stellaron were limited to a few flirts or really-well-intended gifts. Tickle him was not an option - at least, not until now.
“W-what?” Caelus gasped, nearly choking on the SoulGlad - which Aventurine bought him - and smiling shyly, looking at the man next to him. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“No,” Aventurine chuckled charmingly, resting his head on his hand. “I’m just curious about it, my friend, and I decided to make a move. Maybe 20.000 will do, then?” He smirked, loving the flustered face on the other guy’s face. This was a bold move, but Caelus didn’t push him away so… there could be a chance. And who better than Aventurine in taking risks?
“I-I’m not talking about money,” Caelus mumbled, placing the bottle down on the counter. “You can’t… buy your way into tickling me, that would be weird,” he explained, surprised at the words that were coming out of his mouth. Caelus never expected to use them in the same sentence, but here he was.
“Hmm, would it?” Aventurine looked away, pretending to think about it. Of course he expected Caelus to refuse such an offer - he wasn’t really the prude kind of guy, but being offered money in exchange for getting tickled would set anyone off. “I apologize then, friend. Could there be another way?”
“Another… way? Of tickling me?” Caelus’s upper lip twitched slightly, only finding this situation more and more confusing. No one ever needed… a way. It would be just him fooling around his friends and it happened. And Aventurine was his friend. Why couldn’t he just do it… normally? “I…”
Aventurine chuckled again, sitting upright before finishing his drink, placing the cup over a couple of bills. “Hahah, your face is priceless. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to weird you out. Forge-”
“Wait,” Caelus said, with a hint of excitement in his voice. His eyes sparkled, as if he just had an idea. 
Aventurine arched his eyebrow, tilting his glasses a bit and looking over them to meet Caelus’s eyes. “Hm? Do you want another drink, my friend?”
“No, not that,” Caelus chuckled, shaking his head, “you can tickle-”
A gasp left Aventurine’s mouth, unable to hide the content he felt by hearing those words. “Oh, really? Hahah, why did you change your mind, my-”
Just as he was about to reach for Caelus, he moved his hands around and grabbed Aventurine’s wrist instead. The confidence in his smirk sent a shiver down Aventurine’s eyes - he knew that kind of expression. It was the kind of expression people made when betting all the chips in their hands. The blonde felt his heart skip a beat and looked down to Caelus’s hand tightly holding his wrist.
“If,” Caelus added, “you can beat me in a game.”
“...oh,” Aventurine couldn’t deny he was impressed. When did Caelus get so bold? Not that he disliked it or anything, but it certainly did something to the chemistry of his brain. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” Caelus nodded, letting go of Aventurine’s hand and resting his own over his hips. “But! If you can’t, then I will tickle you instead.”
This was getting interesting. To think Caelus would deny his money for a game… “If you want to play, my friend, then I'm more than happy to be your opponent, but I will need you to state the terms more clearly,” Aventurine mused, sitting back down and crossing one knee over the other, “I can’t join a game if I don’t know the rules, after all.”
“Hmm… just one round,” Caelus explained, gazing into the distance as he tried to think. He was slowly starting to regret just suggesting it without thinking twice. “A-and the winner gets to… tickle the other for as long as he wants. Sounds good, no?”
“Hahah, it does, my friend,” Aventurine laughed, amused. He was thinking of a couple of minutes for that amount of money, but Caelus’s offer proved to be even better. “Still, one question remains: what game are we playing? Poker? Roulette? Baccarat?”
Caelus's eyes widened. He should’ve really thought about it before.
He had nearly zero experience in that kind of game - he just came in contact with it recently thanks to Aventurine, who always managed to sneak a round or two while they hung out together. Still, those times were enough for him to know that Aventurine was incredibly lucky and never - or, at least, rarely - lost.
If they were to play something like that, Caelus knew he didn’t stand a chance. He needed to turn the tides in his favor. Unless…
“Poker. A round of poker will do, right?”
“Mhm,” Aventurine nodded, taking off his glasses, “I think I have a spare game in my room. Would you accompany me, my friend? We can play there and… let the victor enjoy his prize there as well, away from the curious eyes, hm?”
“S-sounds good,” Caelus chirped, hoping his plan would work out…
How?
Aventurine looked at the cards in his hands and at the ones Caelus just showed him. It didn’t make sense, he could swear Caelus was bluffing just now and-
“W-woah, beginners’ luck! Hahah,” Caelus giggled brightly, letting himself fall back in Aventurine’s bed, enjoying the comfort of the soft mattress. “I could swear I was going to lose that, you looked so scary!”
“B-but…” Aventurine muttered, slowly taking off his glasses and double checking the cards: an ace, a king, a queen, a jack and a ten. Royal Flush. A perfect victory for mr. Stellaron. “H-how did you get this hand?!”
“Hm?” Caelus muttered, lifting his body and supporting it on his elbows as he looked at the blonde. “I was just lucky, I guess.” He moved his shoulders slightly, shrugging at it. Aventurine pressed his lips shut, his hands clenching at the bedsheets.
He couldn’t believe that outcome. Was Caelus actually an experienced player all this time? Did he fail to notice something? Just as Aventurine was about to start to overthink, his eyes caught a glimpse of Caelus throwing the cards away, shoving them off the bed.
“Cae-”
“So,” the guy positioned himself between Aventurine’s legs, resting his hands over his knees. His face, inches apart from the blonde’s, had a smirk instead of his friendly smile playing on his lips. “Do I get to enjoy my prize now?”
Aventurine widened his eyes in realization. “W-well, I- hngh!”
A strangled squeal left his mouth before he could voice any concern. Aventurine quickly eyed Caelus’s hands squeezing his legs, just above his knee caps. His touch felt almost electric, the sensation running from where Caelus’s fingers touched him straight up to his brain.
Aventurine jerked his legs, throwing himself back in a vain attempt to escape the other man’s touch. Caelus seemed amused and, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was about to pay the price for losing their bet, he would be flustered by the sight. 
“Oh, so you are ticklish!” Caelus cheered, crawling a little closer to Aventurine and cornering him against the soft mountain of pillows behind his back. “I wasn’t so sure about it because of how quickly you agreed to play.”
“C-Caelus, wait a sec- aAHAH!” An uncharming, loud cackle echoed around the bedroom when Caelus grabbed Aventurine by his waist, pulling the blonde a little closer. “I-I wahahant another- ahAHAh, r-round!”
“No happening,” Caelus smirked, his fingers slowly picking up the pace and starting to wiggle against Aventurine’s sides, fiddling with the thin, delicate fabric of Aventurine’s shirt. 
Caelus’s touch was curious, fitting for someone who was treating that moment as some sort of experiment. The idea of Aventurine being ticklish didn’t really cross his mind until the man himself inquired about it.
Beginning to dig into Aventurine’s lower sides, Caelus couldn’t help but let out small gasps of surprise when the other’s reaction exceeded his expectations. “Heheh, is Churin a little ticklish right heeeere? ~” He cooed, his hands taking turns between poking and clawing, covering all the extent from Aventurine’s hips to his lowest set of ribs with gentle, playful tickles.
And, for the Amber Lord, how much it tickled. Barely seconds having his body touched like that were enough to make Aventurine’s facade crumble. Added to the tickling, the teasing made his cheeks flush, contrasting the color of his golden hair. “S-slohohow dahAHAHAWN!!” He whined, gritting his teeth while hoping it would help him control his reactions.
But it didn’t.
Each poke and each stroke sent a new wave of that funny feeling - not exactly pain nor pleasure, but something that made his stomach swirl with butterflies and his head spin, leaving Aventurine laughing and euphoric.
Caelus, who had already made himself comfortable in Aventurine’s lap by that time, was also surprised, yet amused. Maybe it was thanks to the drinks the blonde had earlier, but tickling Aventurine was rather… easy. Not because of how ticklish he was, but there was almost… no resistance. “Churin,” Caelus cooed, almost pouting as if he was disappointed, “why are you not fighting back? Do you just want me to keep tickling you that bad? ~”
 Of course, the only answer he could get out of Aventurine at that point was him shaking his head frantically. Still, if he would dare to speak the truth, maybe he wouldn’t deny the accusation so promptly. “C-CahAHAhaelus!! W-wahahait a sec- ahAHa, s-second!” He pleaded, struggling to keep up with the energetic pace of the other’s hands, that seemed to flee from one spot to the other.
In a moment, Caelus was pinching Aventurine’s waist, making his legs kick out in reflex and throw any remaining cards off the mattress. Then, if he tried to reach for those nimble hands and stop them, they would quickly move to his stomach, poking around his navel in a way that made Aventurine whine in his laughter.
If Aventurine, after that, tried to suck in his stomach and curl up to defend his poor, ticklish body, Caelus’s hands would climb up his ribs, clawing at them and playing them as some sort of loud, but - according to Caelus - somehow cute, instrument. Of course, trying to stop his hands there would inevitably end with Caelus tickling Aventurine’s underarms, prodding and vibrating his fingers into that soft spot and making the blonde literally shriek, turning his cheeks even redder.
All this was happening too fast, cycling over and over before Aventurine could get used to any of that.
“AHAhahah, p-plehehease!” Aventurine laughed, weakly tapping at the back of Caelus’s arms, “I c-cahan’t breheh- eheh, breathe!” He gasped, feeling small tears of mirth clinging onto his lashes and hanging on the corner of his eyes. 
Aeons, why did he even agree with such terms in the first place?
Maybe because he was blinded by the confidence in his trust and didn’t properly consider the negative outcome - which was clearly proving itself to be more than he could handle. Maybe he, indeed, allowed the alcohol to get the best of him and his rational side ended up left in reality.
Or, last but not least, his crush for Caelus made him stupid enough to think he would be able to handle getting tickled. After all, besides him, Caelus was also smiling, laughing and even trying to tease him with that silly nickname he came up with during one of the nights they hung out.
Well, whatever it may be, the fact was that Aventurine was also ticklish. Perhaps even more than Caelus. And letting himself simply get tickled like that… definitely wasn’t the best of his ideas.
“What’s wrong, Chu~ rin~?” Caelus mumbled, finally showing the blonde some mercy and, instead of restlessly ravaging his torso, changing his hands’ motion to just some light squeezing on Aventurine’s sides. “Does it tickle a lot?”
“I-it dohohohes!” He groaned, his rest resting tiredly against the pillows. His cheeks were already feeling a tad sore and Aventurine couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so much. “C-Cahahaelus, you- hnngh, ah! C-c’mohohon!” 
“No no no,” Caelus teased with a grin, not letting Aventurine get too comfortable as he shifted his focus back to his ribs. “I won the bet fair and square! And I want to tickle you more!”
He sounded like a spoiled brat acting like that - not that Aventurine didn’t enjoy spoiling him rotten whenever they went shopping, but this request in particular was just too hard to attend! “J-just- ahAHaha, just a breheheak! You can t-tihihickle m- ahAhAHA, I wahAhahasn’t done tahahalking!”
Caelus stuck his tongue out while grinning cheekily, moving his hands to tickle Aventurine under his arms again. The terms were clear, there was no room for negotiating breaks or things like that now. Caelus was having just too much fun with this new fancy squeaky toy to consider a break.
Whether or not it was possible to die inside a dream, Aventurine felt like he was going to find out the answer really soon if he didn’t get Caelus to stop. His limbs, already weakened, couldn't do much against the restless fingers roaming and tickling his body, making his head spin - probably because of the lack of air.
Then, with what seemed to be one last desperate attempt of saving himself, Aventurine tugged at Caelus’s jacket, pulling him with all the strength he had left. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would do after that, but as long as it gave him a break, it should be enough.
What followed, whoever, seemed to be another episode of Aventurine’s luck saving his skin. As Caelus planted his hands against the bedpost to avoid crashing into Aventurine, something slipped out of his sleeve. Judging by mr. Stellaron’s desperate expression, that was…
“...a-a card?” Aventurine mumbled, holding the card between his fingers. 
“W-what?!” Caelus squeaked, nervous and not-suspicious-at-all. “H-how did it end up there? Hahah…”
Aventurine smirked and a chuckle escaped his lips. He tossed the card aside and couldn’t help but to laugh a little louder. “Ah, my friend… you never fail to amaze me, do you?”
Cheating.
Right, how did he not think about something like that earlier? It probably happened when he was too distracted by Caelus’s clumsy and cute card shuffling tricks to notice that the cards that “accidentally” fell off the bed didn’t return to the stack.
When Aventurine sighed, done laughing at the picture that just formed inside his head, he looked up to meet Caelus’s gaze, filled with anxiety and fear. “S-so… you’re not mad?”
“Of course not, my friend,” Aventurine smiled, cupping one of Caelus’s cheeks. “Remember? ‘Go ahead, use me as you wish, even stab me in the back when you see fit. Exploitation and treachery are simply tools of the trade’... and so is cheating, I suppose.”
Caelus sighed in relief, making the mistake to already jump to the conclusion that his actions wouldn’t have consequences. Of course, he was wrong.
Aventurine moved his hands down, from Caelus’s cheek to his shoulder, and pushed the guy back, making him fall back-first in the mattress. “But, my friend, you forgot that I don’t make deals that don’t pay off.”
“C-Churin, wait a sehEHEHCOND!” Caelus cackled, quickly shooting his arms down and pressing them against his body when Aventurine tickled his armpits. “AHAHA- I’M SOHOHORRY!” 
“Hm? What for?” Aventurine tilted his head, faking a confused expression as he savored both the taste of revenge and sound of Caelus’s laughter, along with the feeling of having him giggling under his touch. “I need you to elaborate, my friend, loud and clear. What are you sorry for?”
“F-For cheheheating! AhAHAah, C-Chuhuhurin!” Caelus squealed, his voice cracking slightly when Aventurine’s other hand began to target his waist, making him trash and giggle like a little kid.
Unlike Caelus, Aventurine wasn’t so energetic or nimble when it came to tickling. Instead, he was going to spot after spot, making sure to put them through some extensive testing and enjoying how each of them made Caelus laugh differently.
Tickling Caelus under his arms would make him cackle loudly and, sometimes, even make his laughter go quiet. Down to his ribs and side, Caelus’s reactions were less extreme, but it was still so easy to get him laughing and squirming around - it also made him look the cutest in Aventurine’s opinion.
His favorite one, so far, were his thighs. As Aventurine sat on top of Caelus’s knees, his hands could claw and pinch at every inch of Caelus’s thighs. Tickling him there was surprisingly fun since he would try to reach for Aventurine's hands, only to fall back in a fit of laughter when he noticed he couldn’t reach them. Of course, it was also the perfect chance to tease and touch him there.
While putting all his body through a test, Aventurine also managed to squeeze a couple secrets out of Caelus, getting to know even more than he first planned to. “Sigh, so you planned cheating in our game from the very beginning, my friend?”
“Y-yehehes!” Caelus cried out softly, giggling tiredly as Aventurine’s thumbs dug deep into the sides of his legs. “B-but thahahahat’s all! I prohoHOhomise!”
“My, ‘that’s all’? Of course it is, it’s everything we did today, my friend. And you were cheating the whole game!” Aventurine feigned an offended tone, sneaking one hand under Caelus’s leg to pinch the back of his thigh while the other pinched his knee cap. “Since you’re so eager about my games, maybe it’s time for you to learn how we deal with cheaters in the casino ~”
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devdevlin · 1 day
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A brief (and inappropriate) retelling of Hermione's polyjuice incident.
DON'T ASK. I don't know where this came from, ok? Ok. My pregnancy brain is fried and apparently, I don't know what shame is anymore, so here you go, have an odd and uncalled for drabble. I'd say don't judge me... but tbh, I probably deserve it 🤷‍♀️
"Ahh!"
At the distant, high-pitched scream, Tom slowly lowered his newspaper.
There was a concerning stretch of silence, until a quiet shuffling from upstairs started; hurried, panicked footsteps, ones that told him he needn't get up. Whatever the problem was, it would undoubtedly come to him.
Tom resumed his reading.
Sure enough, not even five minutes later, and the footsteps gradually pattered their way down the stairs.
"...Tom?" he soon heard echoing in from the other room.
"...Yes?"
"Can you... I think I need your..."
Hermione, he knew, would rather eat her own pants than come to him for help, and so, properly intrigued, Tom folded his paper and put it aside. "What's wrong?"
There was another pause and some more shuffling from the doorway, before a quiet, "do you promise not to laugh?"
Tom laughed. "That will depend on what you're about to say."
"Tom!"
"Tell me what's wrong."
"Promise you won't laugh!"
"Fine, fine, I won't laugh," he promised, leaning forward eagerly in his chair. "Just come out. You're starting to worry me."
Another stretch of quiet. But then, right as Tom was about to get up and force her out—
Hermione stepped into the room.
Tom prided himself on his self-control. It was one of his best qualities, one that set him far apart from the rest of his peers, but even he wasn't above snorting at the sight of her.
She immediately turned and walked back out.
Tom, at a complete loss, covered his mouth and muffled his chortling as he got up and followed after her. "I'm sorry," he called out. "Wait, really— I'm sorry. It just wasn't what I was expecting, that's all."
He caught her in the kitchen, where she whirled back and glared at him. "You promised!"
"I did, I know. I'm sorry," he said, but he wasn't really. Because with a pair of ginger ears and a squashed nose, with her pants riding low enough on her hips for a long, bushy tail to poke out the top, she looked... hilariously...
Cute.
"Are you going to help me or not?!" she snapped, gesturing to herself.
Tom looked her down and up, taking her all in. Huh. She had claws, too. "How did this happen?"
"I... a little bit of polyjuice, is all. But I must've added the wrong hair..."
"It would seem so," he said. "Whatever were you playing with polyjuice for?"
"I... well... I just wanted to... surprise you," she admitted. "I know you don't like to celebrate, but I thought... it's your thirtieth. I had to do something, and I thought this might be a way to do it that you'd be okay with."
"You thought I'd like it if your gift... was yourself in the form of a cat?"
"No! No, not a cat..."
"Who were you supposed to be, then?" he asked suspiciously.
"...N-no one."
"Hermione."
"I..." she sighed, and then grudgingly muttered, "I was trying to turn myself into you."
This time, he tried—he really did—but his laugh couldn't be helped.
"Tom!"
"Sorry, sorry," he repeated, "I'm sorry. But, honestly, why would you—"
"I have another batch upstairs," she said, flushing. "Once I was you, I was going to come down and offer you the other batch, so that you could turn into me, and then... I thought we could... you know."
Slowly, as her words sunk in, Tom grinned a wide, involuntary grin. "Actually... now that you say that... I'm not quite sure I do know," he said, stepping towards her. "Why don't you tell me more?"
Hermione crossed her arms. "This is humiliating enough without you rubbing it in! You know what I mean!"
"Do I?"
Her ears flattened.
"Well..." he said, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing again as he closed further in. "As unfortunate as this all is... it doesn't all have to be for nought. Maybe we can still... make this work."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"Just me... you..." He leaned into her and reached around to trail his hand along her thigh, until he reached the base of her tail at her waistband. He gently gripped the base. "...and your tail..."
He slipped his fingers down the length of it, over the silken, ginger fur, until she swatted him off.
"No! I— stop that!"
"Why?" he said. "It'll take hours to wear off. I can think of several good uses for all this until then."
"Absolutely not!" she snapped, pushing back from him. "Wh-what do you mean, good uses?"
"What do you think I mean?"
"I... I think that if you can't help me, then I'd rather not know about—ahh!"
As she'd turned to storm off, Tom took hold of her tail and pulled, hard enough that she stumbled back, her back colliding flush against his front.
"Something like this, I think," he murmured low in her ear, keeping his grip on her tail tight, holding her in place.
"Tom, that—ow, that hurts."
"Good."
She tugged to free herself, but Tom didn't let go, and twisted them to shove her forward, pinning her between himself and the counter.
"Ow, I mean it!" she hissed.
"So do I," he drawled, and now that he had her pinned, he took her tail in his other hand too, and sliding it up, right to the base, and stroking down its length firmly. "Tell me... what does it feel like?"
The tip of her tail twitched against his leg at his touch. "It's... ah, um," she squeaked. "Sensitive."
"Is it? Well, why don't we find out just how sensitive it is..."
"Tom—"
"Shh, shh," he shushed, slipping his fingers around the tail and down, down beneath the waistband of her pants to where the fur ended and the smooth patch of skin just below it started.
He felt it as she shivered and a tremor jolted up her spine, joined by a quiet, gentle—
"Oh," he breathed, "you can purr?"
"I... I didn't know... I didn't mean to..."
Tom laughed into her neck. She sounded mortified.
"It's all right," he told her, stroking even lower, brushing right against where the skin became silky and started to pucker. "I don't mind, but... now that you mention it, I do wonder how it'd feel if you purred with my dick in your—"
"Tom!"
"I'm just curious. It is my birthday, after all..."
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erabu-san · 14 hours
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HI ERABU!! FREMILLEI ANON HERE!! (Not here to talk about fremillei ironically lol)
Sorry about your trouble with Cyno and Tighnari :( I totally get the frustration of just seeing something as a cute friendship and having 90% of the fandom see them as romantic.
We live in a society (the genshin fandom). Us platonic Cyno and Tighnari enjoyers have to stick together✊
With that being said, I've been kinda on a Collei and Tighnari brainrot the past few weeks sooo, hope you don't mind if I ramble about them👀
Can I just say, how much I adore their dynamic. Whether it's father/daughter or big brother/little sister, they're so sweet and care about each other so much🥹 On Collei's side, besides Amber, Tighnari was one of the first people she's ever opened up to, or has felt comfortable around. He's so kind and patient with her and she's really grateful for it!! (Her relationship with Cyno is similar but I do think it was a little awkward at first since Cyno reminded her of her past...)
And on Tighnari's side, well, at first he saw her as a student. But he immediately felt this...urge to help her. Like she had been through so much, and he felt like he had to try and help her in some way. (You brother comes in at the middle of the night asking you to take care of this random traumatized child wyd). He enjoyed getting to know her, and teaching her. And he felt such a strong sense of pride when she gets a good grade in a test, or is able to write something coherently. Overtime, he got to see more of her, more of her personality and quirks, and he developed so much affection for her, treating her like he would a little sister💞
I do think that maybe Collei has trouble talking to him about things. Maybe since she's scared of being judged (she knows he wouldn't, but the feeling is still there). So she ended venting to trees. I like to imagine one day, Tighnari was looking for her when he overheard her talking to a tree. At first he was like "why is she doing that??" But decided to leave since he didn't wanna eavesdrop. But then, he caught her talking about HIM.
"Master Tighnari is so patient and kind with me... I know he would never judge me, or make me feel bad. But...I still find it hard to talk to him. He's usually busy...I don't wanna bother him."
And that just broke his heart :( He wanted Collei to feel comfortable talking to him, he WANTED her to come to him whenever she had a problem. He left, but after that, he would subtly encourage her to talk to him if she needed to, reminding her that she wasn't a bother or anything like that, and that he cared about her. And it made her happy to hear!! And she slowly started coming to him more often!!
Also SLIGHT fremillei (I'm sorry I can't escape the chokehold they have on me) I picture this scene, where after Collei finds out about Freminet being apart of the Fatui, Collei immediately runs home, so many emotions going through her head. Hurt, fear, guilt- she's so overwhelmed. She arrives back and while she's passing by Tighnari's house (house? Cottage?? What do you call those?😭) he calls out to her, noticing something's wrong. She stops, and looks at Tighnari, breathing heavy from running. She doesn't know where to begin, what she should tell him, IF she should tell him. But, she looks at him, looks at the concern on his face, and runs towards him and hugs him tightly, sobbing into his chest. Tighnari is confused, but he doesn't question it, and immediately wraps his arms around her.
"It's okay...I'm here."
I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK BUT THEY'VE BEEN ON MY BRAIN. I feel like not a lot of people talk about them alone, which kinda sucks since their relationship is so sweet :(
Again, sorry to bombarde you with the long ask😭 You art is beautiful, and I love hearing your genshin Sumeru headcanons. Thank you for listening to my rambles. Have a lovely day and take care of yourself!! <3
WAAAAH I AM SORRY FOR LATE ANSWER BUT WHEN I READ THIS I WAS ON THE FLOOR I LOVE IT, IT IS SO ADORABLE
Anon you have such a big brain and I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT 🫵
Oh the part when Collei hugs Tighnari and he is just saying that he is here
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Credit to Zyomih on Tumblr: ✨Link✨
Ok WOAH did y'all like my vibrating piercing Simon post I did. So why not do a pt.2?
Pt.2 Sub!Simon w/ vibrating piercings
Pt. 1: ✨Link✨
CW: Angst, Sub/Dom relationship, Simon being the sub and you the Dom, edg*ng, overstimulation, h*ndjob.
🔞 MDNI PAST THIS POINT 🔞
You had noticed that Simon hadn't been paying that much attention to you. Whatever, you thought. He was just busy, that's all. You knew that he would get like this sometimes, where he gets too focused on his work. But it was getting to the point to where you were always sleeping alone in his bed, and he would barely even talked to you.
But what had pissed you off even more were the nights when Simon would go to the bar with his buddies, and you be there, watching how he would flirt with the women there. The way he'd put a hand on their hips, that seductive gleam in his eye, his flirty comments that he made towards them. And this was all when he was still sober. You were absolutely furious with Simon, seeing how he acted like he forgot you were there. As if the two of you weren't together.
But when Simon had eventually gotten out of his work craze, that's when he noticed that something was off with you. He would try to kiss you, until you pushed him away. He would try to talk to you, until you ignored him. Simon had gotten tired of this silent treatment pretty quickly. He forcefully pulled you into his room, his eyes giving you a glare. "Alright, what's gotten into you, luv'?" He asks, his voice showing a hint of anger, although there was also concern in his voice and the way he looked at you.
You had finally snapped at him, explaining how he had been barely paying attention to you until recently, and all those nights at the bar where he would be flirting with those other women. As if you didn't even exist. Hell, you even thought of transferring to another military faction so that you didn't have to see him anymore. Simon stared at you in shock, now realizing how he's wronged you. How he's ignored you. He's treated you terribly these past couple weeks.
"No, no… Don't leave me luv', please. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." He pleads, holding your arms in his, his expression in his eyes desperate. "I'll spend more time with you, love you like I should. I won't ever flirt with another woman at that bar again." He promises. But you were still mad at him. This had been the same cycle for the past few months. At first, you didn't mind it, but now it was getting too much. You didn't want to be the desperate one here. You wanted him to be the one begging at your mercy.
Simon started taking off his military gear, now in just a T-shirt and his military pants. He held you close in his arms, nuzzling his head into your neck. "Please luv', I'll let you do whatever you want to me. Punish me how you see fit. Let me make it up to you." Simon said. You smirked, before pushing him onto the bed. He stumbled back, before his body laid on the bed. He looked up at you. But you could see the expression in his eyes. He thought that you had forgiven him, that the two of you were just going to have a fuck session. But no, you had something else in mind.
You slid down his pants and boxers, before slowly stroking him at an agonizingly slow pace. But your soft and smooth hands wrapped around his cock was enough to make him let out a groan in pleasure. But you were going to make him drool for you by the end of this. You wanted to see him absolutely filled with brain fog from being edged and fucked senseless. An idea crossed your mind as you remembered the piercings that went down his thick and lengthy cock. You continued stroking him at a more moderate pace as you heard his moans and whimpers from you stroking him. "Oh, please luv', please don't stop…" He moans.
You quicken your pace, grabbing some lube as you pour it down over his cock, making him slippery and easier to control the friction and the motions of his cock. You could feel his cock twitch as in your hand as he whimpered and moaned. "L-Luv', I'm gonna come, gonna–" he said, his breaths now heavy and anticipating. But that's when you go back to your agonizingly slow pace. He whines, his cock swollen from the denial of release. "Fuck, please luv', please… This is torture.." he begged. There, you could see the drool starting to come out of his mouth. You waited until his pleasure died down, before once again stroking him at a rapid pace. You could see his pleasure quickly rising up again, with him being close to climax. "Please, please luv', please…" he begged.
But you stopped again, going back to the agonizingly slow pace. He whined and whimpered under your teasing touch as you continued to edge him. "Fuck, please luv', I won't ever talk to another girl again– Fuck..! Nobody but you can do this to me! Nobody can fuck me like You can!" He whimpers, close to the breaking point of his climax. You finally decide to let him come, his choked moans of pleasure ringing in your ears. You let out a smirk, watching his chest rise and fall, his breaths still heavy.
 But then, you grab the remote to his piercings that are on his cock, pressing the button that makes them vibrate, hearing the low hum of the vibrations on his cock. His body twitches, still not used to the previous orgasm that he just had. Simon whimpers, his legs quivering in response. "Please, Luv', oh.. please, I-I can't, it's too much.." he begs. With that, you click the remote again, increasing the intensity of the vibrations. His entire body shivers as Simon comes again, this time coming harder than he did previously. You can see the drool of pleasure pouring out his mouth.
You watch as Simon enters Cloud Nine, barely even able to speak from how overstimulated he is.
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akwolfgrl · 2 days
Text
How sweet it is to be loved by them
Sanji lay curled up with Zeff's goat swaying in his nest slowly drifting off to sleep. Being on birth control meant he had far fewer sex driven heats. During this heat, he slept a lot. It was nice to catch up on sleep…even if a small part of his brain that sounds like his shit father disagreed with this idleness. They would be setting sail soon, Zoro was out getting everything ready to leave and had dragged Luffy with him.
The plan was to sail away from the island and drop anchor until his heat was over. Sanji was no navigator, but it was better than Zoro. He had a habit of getting lost sometimes. He heard the sound of Zoro's boots apoching.
“Sanji, your friends are here to send us off. Are you up for it?” Zoro asked from the doorway.
“Ririka and Rika, I bet. Give me a few minutes to get dressed."
“Who ya dressing to impress? Whatcha wearing is fine." Zoro grumbled, leaning against the door.
“Not you, obviously." Sanji snarked as he got dressed. He wasn't going to bother with everything today, just pants, a shirt and socks. “What did you make for breakfast?”
“ochazuke and osan eggs, luffy had the ham you had me married after dinner before you almost fell asleep at the table. I'd rather you'd wear nothing at all."
“You would, we spent most of our honeymoon naked."
“Ahh the good times."
“After my heats over, we should get recainted." Sanji stepped into Zoro's space. He pressed his forehead against the swordsman, their noses brushing against each other before pressing his lips against Zoros.
“Shishishishi!” Luffy's laugh interrupted thire moment.
“We should head out there."
They step out on to the deck, zoro had brught out the dinning room table table and chairs were set out on the deck, thire wasn't much room but it was better then sitting in the dinning room/kitchen. Sanji didn't want to overwhelm his guests with pheromones.
“Sanji!” Rika ran towards him, barreling into his legs, hugging the thighly. “Why do you have to go?” She asked, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.
“I'm sorry, but all three of us have dreams. That means we have to leave and find them. We could send you letters, though." Sanji placed a hand atop her head. He could talk to Rirka and Zeff about them visiting the Baratie and using the reastunts den den mushi from time to time.
“Rika, why don't you show him what you made?” The lovely beta woman sedgess, distracting her daughter. Rika reluctantly let him go and instead deaged him to the table.
“I made rice balls! Just like the ones I made yesterday! You gotta try them!” Rika handed him a misshapen ball of rice. He took a bite, they were a bit too sweet and a little one note but interesting. With a bit of reworking, they could be very good. “Well?”
“Mm goid." Sanji smelled at her.
“I want them to be ever better! But I don't know what to do."
“How about we check out the kitchen and see what we can find." Sanji offered. “After I eat breakfast,”
“Ok!”
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bagely · 20 hours
Text
Something about... Asking you out
“ Philza ?”
“ oh, missa! What are you doing here, mate?”
“ I just stepped out for coffee” Missa's cheeks flushed in surprise. they had met a couple of times before, never alone.
“Sit down, sit down don't take it standing up.”
They knew they both liked each other or at least were attracted to each other, they hadn't said it out loud but it was surprisingly obvious on both sides, Missa had tried to text him to arrange something but his nervousness got the better of him and that message was still in draft. And now he was in front of him.
Missa took a large sip from his coffee cup as it was brought to the table, burning his tongue in the process though he endured the pain to get up and wordlessly walk out of the store.
Before he took another step his brain reacted. Was he doing something stupid? Yes. If he was, would he regret that decision later? Probably. So he decided to go back inside and sit down at the table.
“ Hi... Again?” greeted confused Philza.
“So...” began Missa, swallowing saliva “ So how can I do this.”
Philza looked up, frowning slightly. “What are you talking about?”
“...This you know... ask you out..” he replied, wringing his hands “. I've never ever done this.”
“I can tell."
“ Hush.”
Philza sketched a slight smile trying to hold back the laughter this interaction generated in him until the laughter could no longer be contained. “I guess we can have a little chat first.”
“Chat?” he repeated, running a hand through his hair “Uh... no."
“Conversation?” he repeated, running a hand through his hair “Uh...not my most expert area, but...”
“How about a joke?” suggested Philza. His eyes sparkled with amusement.
“A joke, that's fine. I'm very funny...” Missa Started his joke but couldn't finish it because of his companion's head shakes in denial.
“No, stop” said philza.
“What, I'm not even halfway through!” Missa protested.
“Yes, but I know which one it is, too bad” replied Philza.
Missa frowned, offended making his accent noticeable while he spoke. “Sorry, Mr. Comedian. It's just that you asked me for a joke on the spot. I don't know many jokes in English, tonto.”
“Try Spanish.”
He shook his head, smiling in return. “No, I actually need this excuse.”
“Now that's funny,” he admitted, letting out a laugh.
Missa looked him in the eye, taking courage. “ So can I ask you out now?”
Philza looked back at him, a mischievous spark in his eyes. “You could do it from the start.”
He blushed, somewhat to embarrassed by all his previous attitude, thinking about it all he couldn't help but laugh too "I really want to ask you out, and I don't know the steps of any of this."
"Just make your own steps." Philza replied " You are fine as you are. And i.." he moved his hand to Missa, holding it tightly and warmly. "I also really want to go out with you."
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