#— drabbles

[multi-fandom-imagine]

❝𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞❞─ Lucifer Morningstar.

"Tell me." Lucifer kept his gaze on you, even through all those years, all those millenniums you were still beautiful. He wondered why it took him so long for him to realize his feelings for you.

You were created for him, his father created for you to be his wife but yet he didn't choose to stay with you. No....he picked Lilith.

"Tell me you're mine"

Lip's quivering, you dug your nails into your palm shaking your head. "You know...I waited so long for you to say that." You didn't notice the tears running down your cheeks, couldn't feel them. It was something you were used with him.

"How I would wait in the garden, watch you with her and I just thought. Why can't it be me? Was I not good enough? Would I ever be good enough."Your voice was soft as your gaze misty, remains on him

Lucifer could feel the guilt building in his chest, that nagging feeling eating at him. You were right of course and he hated himself for hurting you, for hurting the one who was meant to be his life.

Lips pulling into a bitter smile, you let your wings stretch as you turned your back to him. "How can I be yours when you never wanted me in the first place."

He didn't get a chance to respond, he didn't get s chance to beg you to stay, he never got the chance to apologize for breaking your heart.

He should have told you, but he was too late to fix this. He couldn't fix this.

Because someone else already captured your heart.

A/n: wanted to write a little angst blurb before I pass out. Will be up later to write.

The someone who captured your heart can be anyone. <that's not Lucifer>

#drabbles #drabble #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin x reader #lucifer hazbin #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n

[nickiehoresco]

#flora #lil bby #drabbles #kelley o'hara #ms couple #dragq #arpa #you hurt me #girlslikeus #red bull

[xxnghtclls]

Pond and Poetry

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Permission Universe ❤️

Rating: Mature

Wordcount: 1,358

Fluff! Flirt and a little bit of dirty talk… Soft Sukuna all the way tho.

Summary: Sukuna meets you in the garden, while you’re busy playing with Kois. And then you flirt. Just flirt. I got some Permission feels recently so I couldn’t resist to write this.

—

Warm sun on your skin and green grass beneath your figure, as you lay in front of the pond. Spring is here, the air is not cold and not warm, perfectly balanced by cold breezes and the warmth of the sun. Cherry blossoms start to bloom and small little wild flowers poke their head out of the ground.

Colourful Kois are swimming quietly in circles. Back and forth and left and right.

And you watch them with a thoughtful smile on your face, while you let the sun warm your figure. The sight reminds you of the time, when you and Ak-

When you were watching the Kois together.

The kimono you’re wearing is heating up with each minute, coating you comfortably. Supporting your head on your right hand, you reach with your left one into the cold water.

Your finger dips in, an attempt to touch one of those big fishes, that sometimes disappear beneath the reflection of the sun.

However, this reflection is interrupted, as suddenly your tall King steps onto the bridge next to the pond. Without greeting him and now having a better look at the Kois, you manage to brush your skin against the smooth surface of their scales. Your eyes light up and you smile.

“Got you.” you whisper quietly, as you see the outlines of familiar spiky hair and a huge figure imprint a shadow on the water.

You blink and finally look up to your right, seeing Sukuna’s gentle eyes looking down at you, his head being propped up on his right upper arm, just like yours. He’s wearing his Hakama pants and black cloak, while he leans against the balustrade of the bridge. He cocks his eyebrow at you.

“Childish brat.” he teases, flashing his teeth into a smirk. You huff, before you stick your tongue out at him.

“Let me.” you mutter, before you turn back to the Kois, as you keep twirling your finger in the water.

He huffs at your response, as he keeps watching you.

“Join me.” you continue almost inaudible, as you wiggle up your feet and swing them back and forth.

No response.

Except a pull on your heart. And you know what’s up.

You sigh, before you retrieve your hand from the water and tap with your palm on the spot next to you.

Two times.

Tap.Tap.

“Come.” you say softly, still not looking at him.

And you can feel his eyes boring into your figure and how his shit eating grin eats you up, before you hear him shift. Sukuna’s naked feet move over the wooden bridge, then through the fresh grass, until they come to a halt at the spot you pat on with your hand.

Don’t look at him.

One of his hand brushes against your moving left ankle, before you feel his foot gently push against your hip.

You ignore him.

He huffs again.

Unbothered, you dip your finger back into the water.

Another attempt of touching those colourful scales.

With a soft breeze, you finally feel him crouching down next to you.

More.

He takes a strand of your hair, fiddling it between his fingers. You quietly retrieve your finger from the water again and reach behind you.

“Closer, my Love.” you mumble softly, as you get a hold of his cloak and pull. One, two times.

And you can feel his grin again. You know he’s just watching you, waiting with what you’re coming up next.

It’s amusing to him. Actually... for the both of you.

To your surprise however, he leans down. His teeth find the shell of your ear for a moment, before he lays down to your left, on his stomach, just like you.

“They’re your gift for me after all.” you say with a satisfied grin on your face, still not looking at him.

As long as he’s this mute, giggling hunk of a man, you would rather admire the fish... And you know it’s a lie.

You have to force yourself to keep looking at those Kois, because you can’t get enough of him. Still.

After all this time.

Because you are his and he is yours. For now and all eternity.

“What now?” he whispers quietly in your ear, his pretty nose presses against the side of your head, taking in the scent of you and your hair.

“You’ll get a kiss if you can touch one of them.” you nudge your head to the pond, before turning your head to finally look at him.

His expression slackens and his lip rises into a mix of a sneer and pout, before he rolls over onto his back and closes his eyes. It makes you snort.

But, you catch yourself, trying to suppress a laughter.

Behave.

You lean over and with the index finger of your right hand, you give him a poke on his bottom lip.

“A kiss on your lips then.” you say cheekily, as if you just upgraded your offer significantly, while you watch how the shadows of the trees and the light of the sun dance with each other upon his facial features.

He blinks his crimson orbs open, still holding his unamused expression, as he grabs your right wrist.

Too much?

You inhale.

“A kiss on my lips then?” a new offer, using a mature voice this time.

A pause.

And a breeze, while he contemplates your new offer. You watch Sukuna’s hair move from the breeze, before his lip twitches. He pulls you closer. Close enough, to let his lips slightly brush over yours.

“A kiss on your lips it is.” he breathes. “And a kiss on your cheeks. And...”

“And?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“...the sound of your thighs.” he concludes, brushing his nose against yours. “And how they mute my ears.”

Oh.

Heat rushes to the cheeks in your face and to the lips between your legs.

Heartache.

“Maybe you should write poetry.” you cock your head to the side, trying to act over your embarrassment and arousal.

“Maybe I should.” Sukuna smirks quietly in response, as his eyes pierce through you.

God.

You chew on your lip, as you lean back into your previous position and turn back to watch the fish in the water.

“There.” you dip your left finger back into the cold, as you watch him in the corner of your eyes, how he rolls back over on his stomach, leaving the black cloak laying in the grass.

Sukuna reaches for the water too, but his finger brushes over your hand first.

So gentle. So slow.

His touch feels electrifying, sending a feeling of home and love through your whole body.

Those fingers that killed many men and women and children. Those fingers that did such cruelty.

So soft against your skin. You focus and watch his hand closely.

And your heart starts racing.

His index finger follows the line of your hand, along your own finger and finally dips into the water as well. Sukuna’s hand stays resting upon yours, as you both slowly circle your fingers in the water.

It almost drives you insane.

The Kois keep dancing around your limbs, coming closer, swimming away again.

Sukuna quietly guides your hand closer to one of them. A gentle vibration flows through your hand and you notice how the fish grows slower in its movement.

Careful.

Your fingers brush against the scales. In unity. Along the whole length of the fish. “Got you.” he whispers against your hair, sending shivers through your whole body.

Sukuna then guides your whole hand underwater and turns it upside down, making it able for you to even hold the Koi for a few seconds, until it swims away again.

Your eyes light up again, as your heart is beating in your chest. And Sukuna pulls on it.

“Use me as your canvas.” you whisper, your voice almost trembling, wetness rising between your thighs, before you look back at him and his eyes falls to your lips.

“I will.” he stares and you stare back at his wrinkly eyes, before he leans closer. “Gonna write my poetry all over your body.”

—

lmk if you want to read how Sukuna’s poetry looks like ✌️

#sukuna #true form sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #nighty writes #drabbles #permission #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #true form sukuna smut #one shot

[brionbroadway]

“I know you only do things to distract yourself from how deeply sad you are that your dad is gone.”

So, it worked.

Freed the maidens, killed Kalvaxus. Restored Cassandra, defeated the Night Yorb. Passed his classes, excelled in extracurriculars. Whether vengeance, justice, or simple avoidance was the motivation, Riz had to succeed, and so he did. Maybe that was an advantage, but—

He still bristles when Fig complains about one of her two dads.

He still wishes his mom would talk about his dad more.

He still does not know how to talk to his dad about unimportant things.

He still doesn’t sleep, because he has nightmares. His dad in Hell, an image his brain knows is a lie, but his subconscious does not.  Kalina haunting him, taunting him, with no reform or redemption. His mom’s reluctant confession: I can’t lose you too.  

“There is a moment where Kipperlilly talks about being jealous.”

#d20 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #riz gukgak #as much as i can think about this moment without also devoting myself to a rage god #d20 fic #drabbles

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

As your mother waits in her chair, watching the window, dolled up in her nicest skirt, with her hair pressed and her eyes lined, you follow the directions on the containers of the premade grocer meals. Roast the potatoes, veggies too, and heat up the chicken. It’s very easy, even for you.

You set the table as the oven warms up and put out the nice plates you never touch. You fold napkins under the cutlery like you’ve seen on television and in restaurants, not that you ever go anywhere by the drive thru. It looks nice. Sort of.

You hear the recliner creak and your mother get up. The doorbell rings and you jump. You rush into the entry way as your mother looms in the front archway. You look at her and she sends back and expression with deadly venom. You go to the door and steady yourself, slowly turning the latch.

You pull it open and muster a smile which must appear closer to a cringe, “hello, uh, hi.”

“Hello,” Steve smiles, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. “How are you?”

“Mm, good,” you mumble.

“Great, I brought you ladies some flowers,” he looks between you and your mother as she steps into the hallway. “Something to brighten up the place.”

“Oh my, thank you, Steve,” your mother rushes forward, her left foot thumping a bit heavier than the other, “that is so sweet of you.”

As she snatches the bouquet, a petal flies loose from her tremor. She brings them to her nose, nearly crushing them into her face as her cheek quivers. She’s overexcited and her symptoms more obvious. You step aside as she beckons in your guest.

“You two look nice,” Steve comments as she stops to remove his shoes. His hair is combed tidy back and he wears an oceanic button-up with khakis. He is indiscernible from any other suburban dweller.

“Thank you,” your mother preens and you echo her softly. “Please, come in. I think dinner’s almost ready.”

She glances at you and you nod, “yes, uh, I’ll... go do that.”

You feel Steve watching you. You shrink down and cross your arm over your middle and back away. You turn and shuffle down to the kitchen. You feel how the skirt and sweater let in the breeze around your thighs and reach to tug the hem.

“Grab a vase for the flowers too, honey.”

You let her words trail after you. Honey. The epithet isn’t dripping in her usual poison. You go and open the stove, letting out the aroma of seasoning. It should be almost there.

You search under the sink and find an old mint green vase. You wash it out and fill it with cool water. You bring it out to the dining room and set it on the table. You can hear your mother and Steve in the next room.

She shoves the flowers at you before you can say a word. You take them as she keeps her attention on your guest.

“How’s the house coming along?” She asks in a singsong, “you’ve been doing so much work, I’m surprised you could make the time for us.”

“Of course. Nice to have a few friendly faces around. Not gonna lie though, I do have fridge full of casseroles already.”

You go back to place the stems in the vase. You linger there, safely away from their conversation. You have nothing to add anyway. You’re best to keep an eye on the food.

“Ugh, really? Let me warn you about this place, those bleach blondes aren’t as chipper as they put on,” your mother sneers as you wait for the gravy to simmer.

You don’t think the people around the neighbourhood are bad. They’re just different. Besides, you can’t blame them for their judgment. You might feel the same if you were like them. If you were pretty and perfect and rich.

You hover by the stove and stop the timer before it can buzz. You take out each pan and transfer the contents to thick porcelain serving dishes. You bring them to the table, one at a time.

“Mom, er, Steve?” You peer into the front room, “dinner is ready.”

“Oh, finally, I’m starving,” your mom sighs.

“Smells good. What are we having?” Steve gestures your mom ahead of him, waiting patiently as she moves stiffly. You can see the struggle in the stitch between the brows as how she stops herself from bracing her hip. She’s embarrassed.

“Roast chicken, potatoes, and grilled broccoli,” you explain, watching awkwardly as he pulls out the chair for your mom.

Your mom sits and Steve tucks the chair in. He surprises you as he rounds the table towards you and slides out another chair. You stare at him and your lips part.

“The gravy,” you squeak.

You quickly retreat to the kitchen. You pour the gravy into the spouted dish and balance it by the handle. You carry it carefully through the door and trip on the slightly crooked divider on the floor. The contents slosh and a splatter lands on your white sweater.

You frown and put the grave dish on the table. Steve lingers as he was. You look down at your sweater and he reaches for one of the spare napkins, holding it out to you. You thank him and sit, letting him push the chair in under you. You dab at your sweater but the brown stains remain.

As he sits, just by your mother, she was sure to sit where she would be next to him, you put the crumpled napkin by your plate. Your mother arches her brow at the front of your sweater. You raise your shoulders and give an apologetic look as you slip the cardigan off. You untangle your arms from the fabric and let it droop to the seat.

Steve smiles at you again. Your face is on fire, your chest too. The dress really doesn’t fit right.

“You made all this?” He asks.

“Heh, she bought it and put it in the oven,” your mom tuts. “She’s not the most gifted cook and... and my hands aren’t steady enough for that anymore.”

“Ah, well, food is food,” he shrugs, “regardless, it looks delicious.” He reaches for the plates of chicken and catches the tongs before the can fall, “may I?”

Your mother’s lips curl and she nods, “by all means.”

He puts a piece on her plate, then his own. He sets it back before he grabs the bowl of potatoes and scoops up a heap besides the marinated breast. Finally, he shovels on the broccoli.

You meekly fill your own plate, though you leave it sparse. Just a piece of chicken, a tiny bit of potatoes, and some broccoli. Your stomach is uneasy. You’re not used to company. You poke around with your fork.

“You know, Holly, I finally got all the furniture where I want it but I don’t know,” Steve begins, cutting into his chicken, “I think it needs something... a woman’s touch, maybe?”

“Mmm,” your mother nods and squints.

“I wouldn’t mind picking your brain. Maybe you have some suggestions. I got all these paintings but not really sure where to put them, you know?”

“Right,” she put a sliced potato in her mouth and chews thoughtfully. She swallows and takes her napkin, shakingly blotting around her coloured lips, “well, suppose I could give you a few tips.”

“Really?” He asks, “that would be amazing.”

“Not a problem at all,” she grins, “I could drop by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that will be nice,” he agrees.

You sit quietly, keeping your face blank. You won’t mention how your mother complained when you tried to hang some of your drawings just in your same room. She always said art was a waste of time. No, you’ll say nothing. You’re better off that way.

“And uh, you’re welcome too,” Steve offers across the table and your eyes flick up to meet his, “if you want. Don’t want to leave you out.”

You glance at your mother. Her eyes narrow and you gulp, nearly choking on the potatoes. You take a breath and push your shoulders up, “actually, I was planning on... uh, I’m busy.”

You can’t even come up with a lie. Not a solid one. Just busy. Busy being alone. Busy hiding.

“Ah, that’s too bad. Well, how about once I get the barbecue fired up, you both come over for a cookout?”

“Lovely,” your mother chimes. “But tomorrow, I’ll swing by,” she squeezes her fork as it tings against the plate. Her tremor is getting bad. “Be nice to get out.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #the girl next door #drabbles #series #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

[madaqueue]

love languages

choso kamo: words of affirmation

a/n: once again a cute little (slightly more nsfw) drabble abt my sweet bby choso <3 i love writing these teehee this has me giggling n kicking my feet

at first choso thought he just loved your voice, the way you pulled out your vowels, the softness that curled between the letters. he held onto every word you said, enamored by each syllable that left your lips.

but one day, when he was going down on you, something changed.

you had one hand in his hair, pulling gently on the black locks, as his tongue rolled around your wet clit.

“f-fuck, right there, cho,” you moaned, the nickname alone making him hard as he thrust his face further into you. “s’good, you’re doing so good,” the words leaving your mouth as your grip on his hair tightened.

suddenly, choso paused, his breath caught in his throat. he felt dizzy - maybe it was you pulling his hair? your throbbing cunt against his tongue? or was it your words?

“you okay?” the worry in your voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

“mhm,” he hummed against the skin between your legs. “can you…can you say that again?” he asked hesitantly, his eyes slowly moving up to meet yours.

“what, baby? that you’re doing so good?” you questioned, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes.

god, everything you said you drove him crazy. he could feel his cock twitch against the bed as he was drawn back to your slick pussy, replaying what you said in his mind. “mhm, that,” he moaned, sticking his tongue out to slowly lick up your folds.

if he had looked up, he’d be able to see you grinning ear to ear at his request. it was rare that he’d ask for anything in bed, saying he was ‘just there to make you happy’. you expected his first request to be something much more lewd, yet this one was so sweet.

“cho, fuck, s’good, you’re s’pretty between my legs,” you whined through a lopsided smile. almost immediately you could feel him moan against you - clearly your words were doing something to him, too.

as his pace picked up you felt yourself getting closer, tension pooling in your stomach. “right there, your tongue feels so good, fuck” you sighed, arching your back slightly off the bed.

his hands tightened around your thighs, his mouth pressing into you harder, licking roughly over you. another low groan escapes his lips as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge of ecstasy. you babbled praises through moans of his name as your hands raked through his hair, grinding your hips against his face as you rode the bliss of your orgasm.

when the high finally lulls, you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at your boyfriend, a lazy grin plastered on his face surrounded by the slick of your cum. he places a kiss against your thigh, another soft whine leaving your throat at the feeling.

“d’you really mean that?” he asks, eyes low as he looks up at you.

“mean what?” you ask, voice still slightly uneven as you reel from the pleasure he just brought you.

“all the things you just said,” he explains.

“of course i did, cho,” you smile, loosening your fist in his hair to ruffle it slightly. “you’re amazing at this, at everything. i could write a book with all my praise for you and i’d still run out of room.”

his smile widens as he leans up over your body to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. as his cock rubs against you, he hisses slightly.

“you alright?” you pull away from him, tilting your head slightly.

he suddenly blushes, looking away from you as his body hovers over yours. “i, um, might’ve…” he trails off.

understanding flashes across your face. “cho, did you cum?” you ask, a smile forming across your lips.

still not able to meet your eyes, he nods, face red.

you place a gentle kiss to his cheek. “look at me,” you state softly. his eyes slowly meet yours, shame still evident on his face. “you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, i think it’s sweet,” you say through a smile.

he hesitantly nods before burying his face in your neck.

since then, you’ve been more proactive about telling him everything you love about him, knowing how shy and worked up he gets about it. you’ll find him during a party, standing in the corner with a drink in his hand, and start whispering into his ear how much you love his hair, how he smells, how nice he looks in that shirt, how good his cock makes you feel.

it usually doesn’t take long before he grabs your hand and pulls you out of whatever venue you’re in, looking down to hide how red his cheeks are and how hard he is as he drags you to the car. the two of you usually don’t even make it home before he’s on you in the backseat, making you moan those sweet words to him as he fucks you.

#q writes #drabbles #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x you #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk fic #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles

[mouthsfullofsharpteeth]

Alex kralie getting into ceramics after everything happened. Taking a class for 50$ a month. Now that he and Tim have a place and arent blowing all their money on motels, they can sort of afford it. Tim encourages it, even if Alex sees it as a waste. His argument is, Alex needs something to get out of the house for. Hes too much of a disaster to get a job, and before this he had just been laying in bed, still as stone and staring at the wall for all the hours that Tim was working. At least now he moves.

For the first few months, he makes nothing good. Mishapen pots and ugly mugs. He mushes so many projects together before they can even dry. Hating his work, disgusted by the crap his useless hands push together. When he first starts getting things back out of the kiln, he takes them home unglazed and throw them against the concrete of the parking lot. Tim arrives at their place to find Alex surrounded by broken hardened clay, and wonders if maybe this wasn’t the right thing to encourage. If maybe Alex wasn’t ready to re-enter society yet. Was he damaged beyond repair? Was there no fixing what the Operator had done to him both mentally and emotionally? Tim could feed him, make him sleep, keep him clean- repair the physical wounds. But he couldn’t fix Alex’s brain if it was already too broken.

But Alex went back to the studio again the next week. And after another month or so, Tim wakes up for work one morning, and is met with hot coffee, presented in a bumpy, shiny black and brown mug. Alex holds it out to him, one of his hands in the pocket of Tim’s sweatshirt that he must have put on.

(Neither of them have many clothes. Might as well share what they did have. Same reason they just used the same bed. Not like they could afford a two bedroom apartment anyway.)

“Thanks.” Tim stares at him, takes the mug. “Did you make this?”

“The coffee maker did,” Alex says, rubbing the back of his neck. Avoiding Tim’s eyes. He sits on the edge of the bed, near Tim’s legs. “Same brand we always buy.”

Tim raises a brow. “Right.” On the inside of the handle are the letters ‘AJK’. Tim feels a warmth fill his chest that has nothing to do with the coffee. He takes a sip.

“What do you think? Of the coffee.” Alex scuffs his socked feet on the carpet.

“It’s good. Really good. Thanks, Alex.”

The corner of Alex’s lip twitches like it does when he wants to smile but physically can’t bring himself to. Tim considers it a win.

“And it’s for me?” Tim asks to clarify.

“I gave it to you, didn’t I?” He mumbled.

Tim’s heart warmed some more.

He was right from the start. Tim was glad he encouraged this. It just proved his point- no one wasn’t worth trying to save.

#drabbles #my writing #timlex #tim wright #alex kralie #recovery au #marble hornets

[son-around]

https://angela-340.tengp.icu/zf/t8DsP1b

#borderline personality disorder #glass onion #dibujos #drabbles #toshinori yagi #apink #Jurassic park #black panther #couture #use me use me use me #oasis #exid #football

[capital-research]

#kj apa #fmab #paint #borderline personality disorder #glass onion #drabbles #apink #Jurassic park #couture #bill cipher #kageyama tobio #meryl streep #little tease

[silvercap]

Can I have whip and infection for thw prompt list? If not, just whip is fine :)

For sure ;) (For this prompt list)

Whip/Infection

The whip comes down with a violent crack, a flash of fiery pain licking Leon's split flesh as he jerks against the chains holding his hands above his head and sucks in a ragged breath. He can barely see through the reflexive tears blurring him vision, lost in a haze until another snap of leather drags him back to momentary awareness with a strangled scream. The metal grating of the cargo ship digs painfully into his knees through the fabric of his tactical pants, stifling air doing little to soothe the inflamed, angry wounds opening on his back with every lash.

His muscles lock up when yet another comes down, the twentieth--thirtieth? He's lost count--strangled cry scraping through his trachea. Strands of damp hair hang limply in front of his eyes, teeth chattering despite the heat. He can't breathe right.

Leon hazes in and out of consciousness as blows continue to rain down, time warping in the wake of the all-encompassing burn. He comes back to himself just long enough to find two of the sailors untying his hands, the bearded man he recognizes vaguely as their leader stepping forwards to crouch in front of Leon's limp form.

"Let's hope you've learned your lesson, hm?" He sneers, nodding to the sailors. They hoist Leon to his feet by the arms, the pain of muscles flexing along his back enough to send Leon spiralling into darkness. He only returns to daylight when his body hits the floor of the cell they've been keeping him in, a tiny moan all he can manage as the agony races up and down his mangled back. He sobs.

"The hell did they do to you, rookie?" a gruff voice asks, and then there are large hands on Leon's shoulders, holding him in place as he tries and fails to lift his head.

"Krauser," he slurs, and blacks out.

He drifts for a long time, eyelids flickering open every so often. Whatever he sees must not make sense, because he dips back under every time, sleep drawing him into its soothing embrace. All the while, the flames grow in intensity, burning down through his damaged back and into the rest of his body. The next time he manages to pry his eyelids apart, his very bones have been turned to embers, whimpering at the sheer agony that seems to pulse through every fibre.

"Hang in there," Krauser says from above, broad figure barely visible when Leon turns his head weakly to the side. His lips are dry, throat parched when he tries to speak. There's something damp on the back of his neck, a spot of coolness that does little to put out the fire. He shivers.

"Wha--" Leon swallows, panting for breath. "What--"

"Take it easy. They did a damn number on you." A cool hand comes down on Leon's forehead, the relief of it prompting a groan. "You've got yourself a hell of an infection, too."

"Feel like a pirate," Leon mumbles with a strained laugh. "Didn't know they still whipped people like--"

"Shut up, Kennedy. The last thing I need is to hear your jokes."

There's something musty and stiff beneath Leon's cheek, the sight of a dingy, water-stained mattress swimming into focus as he groans tightly and clenches his fingers against it.

"Hurts," he moans, panic and nausea fluttering in his chest. The fire has grown excruciating, every broken nerve in his back screaming out from the abuse it's suffered. "Krauser--"

"Breathe." The cool cloth dabs at his bare shoulders, swiping over his cheek a second later. Leon leans into it as much as he can, a brief flash of comfort to the fever charring his insides. He tries to do as Krauser says, but the agony is too much to bear.

With a whine, he lets it swallow him up, slipping into a fitful sleep that does nothing to stop the pain from following.

#whump #ask game #my fics #drabbles #ehehhe

[delightfulgingersnaps]

A Rainy Day

Another little drabble, slightly more finished this time! From the same ongoing story between Yenna(my Tav) and unascended Astarion. Yenna notices Astarion is feeling a bit melancholy on a rainy day while they're stuck inside. Sweetness and smut ensues.

18+ only!!

CW: fingering, handjob, blowjob, utter fluff, deep loving connection

#astarion x tav #astarion x original female character #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #drabbles #bg3 fanfiction #my writing #bg3 fandom #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #astarion x f!tav

[between-two-fandoms]

One night, after they had long shifts and meet up at Buck's loft, Buck's lying on Tommy's chest. Tommy's arms are wrapped around him and he's pressing tender, firm kisses to Buck's head. Buck feels settled into himself, he's more himself than he's ever been before after discovering his bisexuality. He and Tommy cherish their time together, tender touches and soft kisses. They're talking about everything and nothing, simply existing together. Then Tommy asks, "have you ever had your heart broken?"

Buck, to his surprise, doesn't think of Abby. Or Ali, or any of his other exes. He thinks of Kameron and Conner, of the child he helped bring into the world, how he felt pure happiness when it was born. He's always loved kids, but given his family history he never even considered having his own. He thinks about when he said he's perfect, then the crushing realization that ths child in his arms wasn't his.

Buck closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and can feel sadness crash over him. His breathing turns shaky, and he can feel light tears rolling down his cheeks. He nods against Tommy's shoulder, burying himself into the comfort his boyfriend always provided. "Yeah, once," Buck says, pain seeping into his voice at the memory of the birth he delivered on his couch. He doesn't elaborate. Tommy doesn't ask for details, seeming to realize there's something deeper going on than a relationship breakup. He just holds Buck close, kissing him softly and reassures him with sweet words and gentle praise until Buck falls asleep thinking of a child who hardly knows he exists.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #bucktommy #firepilot #drabbles #ren's writing #i chose war when i woke up apparently #angst #pain #evan buckley deserves to be happy damnit

[fbfh]

you know what this fandom is lacking? will solace / reader content.

you know who can fix this? you.

(please i'm begging i am starving for crumbs here)

BABESSSSS you are so real for this.

no bc Will is literally the best boyfriend. saying he's the epitome of sunshine doesn't even begin to cut it. Will makes you feel warm. you feel so comfy and accepted around him. like yk when you're hanging out with someone and everything just feels right?? like you think this is what characters on tv who are literally written to be perfect for each other feel like. Will never has a shortage of bandaids and ibuprofen and songs to whip out on the guitar and your favorite candy (and of COURSE kisses and hugs and cuddles and "love you, lovebug"s for his favorite person in the whole world)

and like beyond that, even past all the sweet fluffy stuff, Will is such a stable fucking person. he always smells a little bit like lemonade and dandelions and that summery fresh cut grass clean warm air smell. he's not freaked out easily. Will has this way of making you feel seen and known and validating your feelings without escalating things or making you feel worse. no matter what is wrong you ALWAYS know you can go to Will, and thathe can come to you. you can both practically read each others minds, you're that close. and Will wields his power of knowing you responsibly, always keeping an eye on you. he checks up on you, checks in on you and makes sure that you're doing okay. and if you're not, never fear - your boyfriend can cure any ailment (even the ones in your heart)

#drabbles #will solace #will solace x reader #will solace drabbles #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus drabbles #heroes of olympus fluff #will solace fluff #he needs a lil smooch #if you kiss him on the nose he'll giggle so loud and be all blushy #“what was that for??” but it's through laughs cause he has no idea how to tell you how happy you make him

[truetogaia]

just thinking and crying over the way simon would continue to refer to you as “his girl” even after your sudden passing.

he would talk about you as if you were still alive whenever relationships came up in conversation. and he’d be so reluctant to allow anyone, even his respected comrades, to try and comfort him.

“yeah, me n my girl have been together for years now. she’s everything. all i’ve got, ya know?”

he would make sure to always keep your resting place full of life. Whether that was by planting your favorite plant, and naming it after you, or always keeping it filled with bouquets of your favorite flowers. and he’d always take your beloved pet that you left behind to go see you.

“did you miss mommy, p/n? i bet our girl missed you so much.” and he’d smile sadly when your baby showed signs of recognizing your grave. his heavy hand petting it comfortingly “so excited to see her today, yeah?”

cod masterlist

#in my crying era #drabbles #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost angst #simon riley angst #ghost x reader #cod angst #cod fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff

[aakeysmash]

Katsuki just needs you to lay your eyes on him to get hard.

You can be sleepy and looking up at him with your eyes half open and he gets a boner.

Roughed up in the morning, teeth still not brushed and you just peek at him from one eye before snuggling into his open arms? He’s getting a boner.

Maybe you’re moaning with his food in your mouth while complimenting how good of a cook he is with sparkling eyes, and his blood rushes straight to his dick.

And it’s not always because he wants to fuck you, even if he does have a super high sex drive and would bend you over 4 times a day if you’d let him.

Sometimes it’s just because his heart skips a beat while thinking about how softly only you know how to look at his soul, even behind all his rough exterior.

#this is literally boss!​bakugo from my barista au #just wait until they finally get together amd theyll be like this #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #bnha #bakugou smut #bakugo fluff #soft bakugou #drabbles

[sprout-fics]

Neighbors Alpha Ghost except he’s extremely polite for a man who is the biggest scariest alpha you’ve ever met. Alpha Ghost who’s lived beside you for years and has developed a rapport of trust with you, the sweet omega that lives next door. Ghost, who trusts you to watch over his place when he’s deployed and in return he helps you repair the various odds and ends in your place. Ghost who routinely asks you if you need anything from the store, and in return you give him baked sweets to take to base.

Ghost who’s gone for weeks at a time for work and you try not to entertain the idea that he may not come back, that one day you’ll wake up to your landlady emptying out his apartment and learning the hard way that you’ll never see him again. Ghost who always comes back, and feels a warm flush of fondness at the relief on your face when you see him again.

Ghost who once came home to find you cornered in the stairwell by an alpha you’d rejected, your face horrified at the things your would be suitor was snarling at you. Ghost who bodily hauled the smaller alpha down the stairs and threw him into the street with a snarled warning to never return, fangs bared beneath his mask. Ghost who returned to make sure you got home safe, and the next day helped you install a secure deadbolt for your safety.

Ghost who allowed himself a rare encounter that night when you hugged him in thanks, swallowing down tears and apologizing for the hassle. Ghost, who’s thought of the moment ever since, of how nice you smelled, how the feeling of you in his arms felt right.

Ghost, who hears you through the thin wall you two share a few weeks later, crying your eyes out. When you answer his gentle knock your face crumples. You confess that said rotten alpha showed up to your job and made a scene, and you were reluctantly let go because of the disturbance. Ghost, who for all his cold hearted demeanor and apathetic nature, feels only anger when you tell him this. Silently, Ghost vows to track down the fellow and discreetly ensure he’ll never hassle another omega again.

Ghost who stays at your request despite himself, allows you to put on old TV reruns and sniffle into his shoulder before you fall asleep there on the couch. Ghost, who’s instincts swell with pride at this omega who deems him safe enough to let into your den, to keep you safe while you rest against him.

Ghost who hears from you a week later, when you knock on his door embarrassed but standing strong with your fists clenched at your sides. Ghost, who is amused at your demeanor and listens as you tell him you have money for rent and groceries this month, but not for your suppressants. Ghost half expects you to ask for money, but is floored when you instead steel yourself and ask him to help you with your coming heat because you trust him. Ghost who freezes where he stands and finally tells you he’ll consider it, unable to shake your pleased smile for hours afterwards.

Ghost who sits on it for a few days, ignores the possessive, prowling thing in his chest as he weighs his options but agrees to help you. Ghost, who watches Price raise an eyebrow when he puts in for leave- his lieutenant who never seems to stop working, but approves it anyways. Ghost who researches what omegas need during heats, from nesting supplies to physical touch to…everything else and tries to remind himself it’s just a favor. It doesn’t mean anything, even if you asked him out of everyone else you know.

Ghost who gets a text on a lazy Sunday morning and is in your flat five minutes later willing but oddly nervous. He expects to find you in a state of debauchery but instead pads into your bedroom to find you curled under the covers sweating and glassy eyed, still coherent to smile and offer a weary thanks. Ghost who supplies a bag of scent laden clothes that has you curling into his familiar smell with a pleased whine. Ghost who tries his best at making you food while you arrange the clothes into a nest with sluggish limbs.

Ghost, who stiffly sits at your bedside and dabs at your sweaty brow, ignoring the flare of base instinct at the sweet, hypnotic smell of an omega in heat. His omega, his instincts purr. Just not yet. Ghost who cedes to your demands to cuddle, watching you go pliant and soft in his arms with a sigh, drinking in his scent as you drift off to sleep.

Ghost who wakes up hours later to you squirming and whining against him, panting and hazy eyed as the telltale scent of slick clouds his nose and draws an answering, primal growl from deep in his chest. Ghost who, with great restraint and gentleness works to prep you with large, calloused fingers, taking more time that he should just to make sure you’re ready. Ghost who firmly hushes your complaints and instead allows himself the selfish act of being completely involved in you, far beyond that of a clinical touch. Ghost who smears your tears of desperation with his thumb, murmurs a dark and heady “pretty omega” before finally, finally sinking into you.

Ghost, who maneuvers you as he pleases, watching the awareness fade from your eyes only to be replaced by heat-addled lust and your lips begging for more. Ghost who braces his full weight on you and rocks with slow, powerful motions that have you hiccup and writhe under him, pushing back onto his cock. Ghost who’s fangs pop out as he carefully refuses the instinct to bite the gland of the mewling, whimpering omega underneath him, but failing to restrain the instinctual growl of MINE that thunders in his chest.

Ghost who makes you come so slick dribbles down your thighs and you fist the sheets with a whimper of his name. Ghost who coos praises into your ear and grinds his cock into you so your eyes roll back into your head. Ghost who has you come twice more before he finally empties himself into you and silently feels the instinctual hope that it takes. Ghost who has no need to measure his stamina, ready to go again in minutes as you reach blindly for him, presenting oh so prettily for your alpha.

Ghost who takes all the time in the world for the days that follow, allowing himself to cave to the alpha instinct of providing, protecting, caring for the perfect little omega in his care. Ghost who watches you like shark as you fall asleep in the bath, sitting you in his lap after and making you eat before sinking you on his cock again. Ghost who coos at you as you go slack jawed and glassy eyed as he mounts you once more- ruining the sheets he just changed as you gush around him.

Ghost who wakes on the third day sore in all the best ways, noticing the way you cling to him like an octopus as you sleep. Ghost who pets at you fondly and noticed the scent of your heat finally ebbing away, blissfully shortened by his attentions. Ghost who watches your peaceful face and once more purrs happily at the thought that you’re his.

Ghost who can’t help but think about the next time he’s due to rut, about stretching you out on his knot and feeling the sensation of you clench down on him in climax. Ghost who reminds himself that it’s only one thing to look forward to, that courting is a careful process and that you deserve to be treated well in the duration of it. Ghost who now lays a palm on your scent gland and rumbles deep and primal, fulfilled at you being soaked in his scent, warding off any other alphas. Ghost who promises you and himself to do this right, to be the mate you need him to be.

Ghost who drifts back off thinking how beautiful his claiming bite might look against your throat.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #drabbles #I wrote this last night on my phone in the ride home bc I couldn’t wait to get to my laptop #random but enjoy