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ushitenevent · 1 year

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Quick Study (model Tendou AU) (M, ~950 words)

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The beginning of the end comes when he sees Hoshiumi leaning smugly outside of the door to the locker room in their practice facility.

“We’ve got a surprise for you in your stall, Wakatoshi-kun,” he says, and bursts out into laughter that follows Wakatoshi as he shrugs and heads inside.

If he hadn’t been running late, maybe he would have stopped to wonder why Hoshiumi said his name so strangely, and fate's fickle hand wouldn’t have reached him. But instead of wondering, when he reaches his stall, he’s shocked and assaulted by a riot of color: dozens upon dozens of editorial photos, all taped to the inside of his locker. Upon closer inspection he realizes they’re all of the same man — a strawberry flash of red hair, pale skin, wide and piercing eyes — done up in clothes Wakatoshi could never afford.

In some, he’s draped across another body, spidery arms and mile-long legs. In others, he stares directly at the camera, eyes tipped with vibrant eyeliner, mouth hanging open and coated with gloss, and that look stirs something inside of his body.

Something very low in his body.

He catches sight of another one, the same man, nearly nude, except for a pair of dark leather shorts. His arms crossed, he smirks, expression like a challenger on his face. Wakatoshi’s mouth goes dry as he traces the pale skin of his legs all the way down to his feet.

Someone clears their throat. “Y’okay, Ushijima?” Hirugami asks, raising a knowing eyebrow at him.

“What’s all this about?

“This is Tendou, a model,” Kageyama says, holding a magazine. “He mentions you in this interview.” To Wakatoshi’s horror, Kageyama starts reading. “‘I know I don’t look it, but I’m an athletic guy! Or at least, I used to be.’” He nods down at the paper, like he approves. “‘I still watch sports, though! My favorite athlete? I’d have to say that volleyball player, Wakatoshi-kun? He’s real dreamy, and I bet he’s a cannon in the bedroom, too!”

This is what Semi calls ‘an out-of-body experience’, Wakatoshi realizes. All he hears are Hoshiumi’s relentless cackles, and that name — Wakatoshi-kun, in Kageyama’s soft monotone — on an endless loop in his mind.

After a moment, Kageyama looks up in alarm. “He says you give him steamy dreams. Does this mean you’re a ‘hot guy’ too?” he asks, and — not for the first time — Wakatoshi wonders what the hell they taught those Karasuno kids.

Someone slipped a Tendou photocard into his shorts. It falls out on his evening jog home, and he has to scramble to save it from the mud.

Eventually the Adlers move on from the joke, clearing Wakatoshi’s stall of all the pictures, except for the one of Tendou in shorts. “It’s for good luck,” Wakatoshi lies, when Hirugami asks him about it.

All of the Adlers move on, that is, but Wakatoshi. There’s something about Tendou that grips him immediately. He has the photocard carefully placed on a shelf at his home, alongside the magazine and the stack of pictures from that day.

That first night, he went home and searched Tendou online, carefully clicking through his portfolio, overwhelmed by the plethora of images available to him.

Satori in all shades, draped in elegant gold dresses or wearing striking, dark green suits. Sometimes splayed sinuously across a table, soft glitter highlighting the planes of his chest, long fingers playing with the buckle of his tight jeans. Runway shots of him in all sorts of clothes, walking with intent and that curious little smile and that forthright gaze that digs right into Wakatoshi’s chest.

Every night after, Wakatoshi picks a different one to study. He prints it out and stares at it to commit it to memory. Head full with the sensitive, pale skin on Tendou’s inner thigh, his tiny dusky nipples, the way silk looks when it falls down the length of his body. Each piece of Tendou brings him warmth, until he’s red and tender and burning.

Then his thoughts shift, and he slips a hand down his shorts while he thinks about biting dark hickeys into Tendou’s thighs, twisting his fingers around those nipples until he squeals, kissing the silk where it crests his ass before sliding a hand underneath.

Those big eyes, the weight of them all focused on Wakatoshi, and they pierce through him when he comes, satiated, after his studies.

Some people might call him obsessive. Wakatoshi just likes to be thorough.

The end itself comes, of course, with Hoshiumi. Wakatoshi could die and he’d be standing there at the gates of hell, waiting for him.

“We’re filming ads today,” Hoshiumi explains when Wakatoshi finally gets to practice, running a little late because Tendou posted a picture of himself on instagram, wearing something tight and black that made his waist look small enough to grab, and Wakatoshi needed to study every inch of it.

Hoshiumi’s wearing ratty Kamomedai sweatpants.

“We?” Wakatoshi asks, pointedly.

He doesn’t laugh, and that should have been warning enough. “Well, just you,” he says, guiding him to their media room and pushing him in. “Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

The door shuts behind him.

Wakatoshi blinks.

Tight, black clothes; milky pale skin; flashfire hair.

“Hello there, big guy,” Tendou says, eyes narrow and hungry, grinning like a predator, already stepping in to fill the space between them, “I hear you like my pictures.”

Wakatoshi would love to be devoured. “I hear you like—me,” he chokes out, realizing at the last possible second that they’re not alone; a whole film crew is behind Tendou, waiting for them to begin.

This time, when laughter follows him, it belongs to Tendou; he’s good with that, honestly.

#ushiten #ushijima x tendou #haikyuu #a drabble a day

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crying-over-spilled-feels · 1 year

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Bond of Brothers

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Eiichiro Oda, and the Funimation English Dub series. Also, I just wanted it to be known that I watch the show in the English dub, so those are the voices I imagine for the characters. No monetary gain is being made from this drabble. Set after Episode 377, which is titled “The Pain of My Crewmates Is My Pain! Zoro's Desperate Fight!” because that episode gave me some major big feelings. More in the Author’s Note at the end.

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Brook the famed Humming Swordsman and musician slowly approaches Nico Robin, the woman the World Government has dubbed the “Demon Child” with a look of grave concern and confusion on what remains of his face. After all, he is a skeleton and must show his expression using only bones, yo-ho-ho!

“Nico Robin, may I speak to you?” Brook inquires as he comes to Robin’s side where she is helping Chopper bandage Zoro’s multitude of new injuries.

“But of course you may, Brook,” Robin smiles, standing up and drying her hands on the rag next to her. “Doctor, I will return to help momentarily,” she directs to Chopper, watching as the blue-nosed reindeer methodically cleans and dresses Zoro’s wounds.

“Take your time, Robin! You’ve been a big help already!” Chopper calls, wiping his brow before returning to the task before him.

Brook follows Robin to one of the corners away from the hustle and bustle of the giant feast going on around them.

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“What would you like to speak about, Brook?” Robin sweetly inquires, sitting on the ledge with a small cup of sake in her hands.

It takes the skeleton some time to begin speaking, but Robin never once interrupts the silence, looks bored with the conversation, or lets Brook believe his desire to talk is needless. Her gentle and almost motherly demeanor is one reason why all of the Strawhat crew comes to Robin to talk about anything and everything they need to.

“I saw what the swordsman and the cook tried to do to protect Strawhat Luffy,” Brook eventually admits, a sheepish tone in his voice.

“Ah,” Robin breathes, taking another sip of her sake. “We mustn’t let them know. Their pride would surely suffer, as they did not want these sacrifices to be public information,” she continues, a hint of warning in her voice.

“So, you saw them fight, too?” Brook inquires, sitting down next to Robin as they continue to speak in private.

“No, I was as unconscious as the others,” Robin admits with a smile. “Let’s just say I have my ways,” she winks, holding up one of her magically crafted ears she had used to spy.

“Ah, your Devil Fruit powers, but of course!” Brook nearly shouts, catching on rather quickly. “But why if the two of them fight like… Oh, what is the saying?” Brook trails off, trying to think of the proper expression. “If the two of them fight like cats and dogs, why did they fight so hard to keep one another from sacrificing themselves to Kuma?” the skeleton musician inquires, still attempting to understand the intricacies of the Strawhat crew.

“Because Sanji and Zoro are brothers,” Robin states matter-of-factly, looking over at the blonde cook as he brings Chopper and Nami more pieces of strawberry cake.

The raven-haired archaeologist does not miss the concerned look that passes over Sanji’s face when he looks at the “moss head” swordsman lying supine on the makeshift bed.

“Not actual brothers, you understand, but the Strawhat crew are very much a family, one I’m grateful to now be a part of,” Robin smiles, casting her gaze over to where Nami is chasing after Luffy and Usopp as the two men drunkenly continue to sing Bink’s Brew despite the skeleton finishing his performance hours ago.

“Ah, so that explains why they both couldn’t let the other sacrifice himself. I see. Or I would, if I had any eyes! Yo-ho-ho!” Brook laughs hysterically.

“Shut up already, you stupid skeleton! I’ll clobber you!” Franky shouts from across the room.

“Yes, but that was also pride and duty, you see. The pride made Sanji think he needed to be the one to sacrifice himself as well as why I heard them say that Zoro told him that wasn’t a cook’s job to die in battle,” she continues to explain, blue eyes reflexively scanning the room to ensure all her crewmates are still safely out of harm’s way. “As for duty, with Luffy being our captain and Zoro our first mate, Zoro’s duty was to take over as Captain since Luffy was incapacitated. Thus, per his duty as first mate and acting Captain, Zoro could not allow anyone else to stand-in for Luffy’s head. It had to be our former pirate hunter.”

“Even as a former pirate, I did not know all of this. Captain Yorki never ran his crew that way. I see why everyone is confident that Monkey D. Luffy and his crew have the power to rule the seas,” Brook admits, pure amazement in his voice.

--------------------------

“Brook,” Robin calls as the skeleton prepares to head back to the piano at the request of Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper. “Let us keep this conversation to ourselves. We don’t want to hurt the pride of our swordsman and cook, do we?” she innocently smiles while she stands to go and obtain another cup of sake.

“I wouldn’t dream of talking behind their backs nor yours, Robin,” Brook admits, smiling widely at the archaeologist. “I know how fragile a man’s ego can be! Thank you for talking with me today.”

“Likewise, Brook. Any time you wish to talk, know that I am here.”

With that, the two part ways to enjoy the rest of the celebration on Thriller Bark, the laughter and shouts of the crew raging behind them and into the night.

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Author’s Note: This episode gave me a multitude of feelings and my husband and I had such a major conversation similar to this one about the sacrifice Zoro was willing to make. My husband grew up watching One Piece because I was not born when it first aired, but I have always been fascinated with pirates growing up. Thus, I interpreted the situation much differently than he did, as I knew that as first mate it is Zoro’s job to lead and protect the crew when Luffy is unable to act as Captain. My husband believes that Zoro and Sanji fought over who could sacrifice themselves over pride and wanting to save the crew, but I also added to his point that there was a bit of crew dynamics that needed to be taken into account as well. In the nearly three and a half years my husband and I have been together, we have watched One Piece together and it has become extremely near and dear to my heart and I am excited that I get to share that experience of watching it for the first time with him! (We just had our wedding on March 11th, 2023 for reference.) Anyway, Zoro is absolutely my favorite Straw Hat and until Brook showed up during the Thriller Bark arc, my husband told me that Sanji was his favorite Straw Hat Pirate as he didn’t want to spoil the addition of Brook to the crew for me.

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Thus, since both Brook and Robin witnessed some form of the battle and the big reveal, this story was born. I hope you all enjoyed reading. If you did, please leave me a kudos or a comment, as those really help me understand what parts of my writing people enjoy the most. Until next time, dear readers! I have many more One Piece scenes already written and have ideas for many more! Have an amazing day, afternoon, or night. Thanks for reading.

#i just really really love one piece #one piece #one piece drabbles #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #nico robin #soul king brook #brook #a drabble a day #yes I know I'm behind on the drabble a day #but I was busy planning my wedding #so I think I had a valid excuse at least #writing every day #2023 writing goals

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months

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full inspection

words: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, dom/sub dynamic, mentions of previous self harm! including scars, inspecting body, descriptions of body but i try to keep things vague ish when it comes to features, p in v sex, unprotected sex, anal fingering, illusions to future anal sex, rafe does inspect readers feet but not really in a foot fetishy way? it is a FULL inspection lol

“mouth first today, bunny.” rafe says, tapping your cheek.

you nod, opening up your mouth for his fingers to poke inside of.

the routine is familiar by now, every morning, you wake up to rafes inspections. his fingers glide over your cheeks, then your teeth.

“you did a good job brushing last night, bun.” rafe says, pulling his finger back to your lips, swiping over them as you open up, sticking your tongue out.

his finger glides down your tongue, pushing further and further until his fist is pressing against your teeth. you try your best to control your gag reflex, waiting for rafe to finish his inspection before coughing.

the second his finger pulls back, you take a deep breath.

“you did it, baby!” rafe praises you, tapping your nose. “you didn't gag!”

you smile up at rafe, swallowing to get the tickle out of your throat. “wanna be good for you.”

“i know, bun. since you're so good, why don't you choose what's next up for inspections?” rafe usually moves to your hands next, checking to make sure there's not any bitten nails or chipped polish.

“umm…” you glance down, small nightgown barely covering your body, nothing on underneath. “my uh…” you know what you want, just are too afraid to say it.

“out with it baby.”

“my chest.”

“aww.” rafe chuckles. “baby girl wants her titties inspected next? sounds good.”

rafe tugs your nightgown up, bunching up the silky fabric, eyes devouring your pushed together thighs, the peek of your slit between them, until your tits are revealed and his attention is pulled there instead.

“mmm, such cute little nipples.” rafe uses both his hands to inspect them, first rubbing around the outside of breasts before moving closer, fingers playing with your nipples to make sure they harden like they should.

“very good, baby.” rafe says, hands massaging your chest.

“thank you.” you look down your body, so clearly on display for rafe.

“what about this cute tummy, huh?” he pats your stomach. its not part of his usual inspections, but rafe loves to give a kiss to your tummy, warm lips making contact with your skin, almost always making you giggle.

rafe moves lower, ignoring your core to scooch down the bed to your feet, picking up one and laying it in his lap. his hands run over your sole before looking at your toes, checking that your polish hasn’t chipped, otherwise he’d be getting on the phone to make a pedicure appointment for you before he even finishes inspections.

he lifts your other foot into his lap next, rubbing his thumbs over your foot, making you let out a low moan at the massage.

“so pretty for me baby.” rafe says, allowing himself to appreciate your flawless feet.

“just for you.” you giggle, wiggling your toes.

“thats right.” rafe smiles, hands moving up your legs to your calves, quickly inspecting them before moving to your thighs. you keep your legs closed until rafe nods to give you permission to open them, not wanting to get punished for baring your cunt too early.

“such a pretty pussy.” rafe coos, a singular finger swiping through your center. “but i think we need to inspect your hands first.”

“raaafe.” you whine out, cunt clenching around nothing at his teasing as he grabs your hands. he makes sure to very thoroughly inspect them now that your cunt is spread open for him, his eyes flicking between your manicured nails and your wetness.

“don’t be bratty. you know its important for me to look over every part of you.” rafe says, flipping your hands over so he can rub his thumbs over your palms before skirting down your wrists, frowning at the few scars in lines that interrupt your skin.

“won’t happen again.” you whisper to rafe. its true, your time of self harming and using it to cope is far over now that you have rafe. not only would he easily be able to tell if you started again with his daily inspections, but you don’t feel the need anymore.

“i know, baby.” rafe hums, raising your wrists to press kisses to them.

rafe moves up your arm, hands quickly checking them before his eyes turn back to your cunt.

rafe spreads your folds open with two fingers, smirking when he sees the way your clit pulses. he begins his usual work, rubbing around where you really want him, but you know he insists on inspecting every inch of you.

rafe plunges his finger into your entrance suddenly, making you gasp out, back arching off the bed at the intrusion, but rafe just chuckles.

he begins to thrust it in and out, rubbing the pad of his finger against your walls. “still nice and tight for me.” rafe hums. “good girl.”

“haven’t been touching myself without your permission.” you shake your head. it was the number one thing that used to cause you to fail inspections, touching yourself either while rafe was at work or while he slept next to you.

“i can tell.” rafe hums, slowing his finger making your eyes flutter closed, a moan escaping from your lips. he switches back and forth between fast, hard thrusts, and slowly deep ones, never letting you know what the next movement is going to be.

“clit next.” rafe suddenly pulls his finger out, making you squeal.

“shh.” he hums, taking the same wettened finger to rub over your clit. for how seriously he takes inspections, he moves on quickly from your clit, barely swiping over it before moving on.

“rafe.” you whine, hoping your pout and fluttering eyes will entice him to continue further.

“shush. flip over.” rafe sits back while you flip onto your stomach, nightgown still bunched around your chest.

rafe smiles at the way you plump ass is presented to him. he rubs his hands quickly over your back, then skips your bum to go to your legs.

“are we doing a full inspection today?” you mutter, turning your head to look down your body at rafe. it's not every day he has the time to do his favorite part of inspections.

“oh yes.” he smirks, tapping your thigh. you know instantly what to do, raising onto your hands and knees and spreading your legs apart.

“cute little hole.” rafe smirks, your bum presented to him. he rubs his hands over your cheeks first, squeezing your skin and even shaking it a little to see the way your flesh ripples.

rafe keeps one hand holding you open while the other one comes to your second hole, circling around it. you take a deep breath and plead your body to relax as you wait for the intrusion, letting out a quiet mewl when rafe pushes his fingertip into your hole, slowly to let you adjust as he buries it. rafe hums in approval from the way you clench so tightly around his digit.

“a+, baby.” rafe pulls his finger out. you've never gotten a completely perfect inspection, always having at least one minor issue that needed correction.

“flip over.” he commands. you move quickly onto your back, keeping your knees pulled apart as you blink up at rafe. “what's next?” you question, hoping there is some sort of reward for being so good for rafe lately.

“you get your cunnie inspected again, but this time i use my cock.”

“really?” you squeal. usually rafe is strict about when he will fuck you. he doesn't like to give you anything too often, says it's to not spoil you rotten. he's lucky you don't mind just pleasuring him, whether with your hands or mouth.

“it's what good girls get.” rafe nods. he pulls his tshirt off over his head, his muscles on full display while you wait excitedly.

“gonna keep being good for you.” you promise rafe.

“yeah, you will know that you know you'll get this dick.” rafe chuckles, pushing his pants down his hips, your eyes widening when his cock springs free, already hard.

“go ahead.” rafe encourages you, moving to kneel between your legs. you can't help your grin as you sit up to wrap your hands around his cock.

“look at how tiny your hands are on my big cock.” rafe smirks as you gently stroke him. you love to feel him, love to hold him in your grip.

“can i give it a kiss?” you question, not looking up at rafe, eyes too focused between his thighs. rafe laughs, patting the back of your head, pushing you down slightly as an answer to your question.

you duck your head, kissing right at the tip of rafes cock before slowly smooching along his shaft before kissing back up the other side.

“now lay back.” rafe hums. you are sad to let go of his cock but excited for what is coming next as you lay down, but not before tugging your nightgown the rest of the way off. you toss it on the floor to be dealt with later.

rafes hands press at your inner thighs, making them stretch even further as he lines his cock up, glad that your wetness has grown and he can push inside, not too easily with how tight you are around him, but enough for rafe to enter you in one steady stroke.

a moan works its way through your body, your thighs shaking under his hands, but he doesn’t let up as rafes hips begin to swing back and forth, feeling every inch of your walls with his cock.

“thats it, baby.” rafe moans when you clench around him. “so tight for me.” your hands fist in the bedsheets, wishing rafe was draped over you so you could kiss him and hold onto his shoulders, but you know rafe likes kneeling between your spread legs so he can look down on you. it also allows him to thrust faster as he slowly builds up speed.

“love your cock so much.” you whine out, back arching, nipples pebbling in the cool morning air.

“aww, you’re so sweet.” rafe smirks, letting out a chuckle when you pout, his voice condescending, mocking you for how much you’re enjoying it, despite rafes movements speeding up to pound into you.

“oh! oh f-fffffff.” you cut yourself off, remembering that rafe doesn’t like you swearing.

“touch yourself.” rafe grunts out. he’s not sure how much longer he can last, not when he was already turned on from inspecting you and having you kiss and worship his cock.

“thank you!” you manage to squeal out before your hand reaches between your thighs, using your fingertips to rub over your clit, hoping rafe is ready soon because you’re not sure how much longer you can hold back.

“you know what the final part of a full inspection is?” rafe questions. you try to think of what it could be, but your mind doesn’t work anymore, so filled with pleasure and thoughts of rafe that nothing else can get through.

“its seeing how good you take my cum.” rafe moans, moving quicker when you feel his cock swell inside of you, signaling how close he is. you rub faster at your clit as he delivers a few final punishing strokes before cumming with a groan, your own fingers rubbing you to orgasm seconds later as you whine out a series of rafes name over and over, your cunt pulsing around his cock, milking him.

“oh, thats a good girl.” rafe pats your lower stomach. “tummy all swelled up with my cum.”

you look down your body, and rafe is right, theres the slightest bulge from rafes cock being lodged deep inside of you and then stuffing you with cum.

“keep my cum inside of you for a minute and you’ll get an extra special reward.” rafe says as he pulls out, knowing you’re going to have to clench your hole for the entire minute with how much he flooded inside of you.

“okay.” you mumble, eyes closing as you concentrate as his cock pulls away, glad you practice kegels as you try to keep all his cum in. you know rafe is staring at your hole, waiting to see if anything leaks from your cunt. time passes quickly, thankfully, and rafe is tapping your thigh before you know it. “you did it, baby girl. that was an entire minute.”

“really?” you smile, proud of yourself as you relax, knowing his cum is going to leak on the bedsheets. “whats the special prize?”

“well, i inspected your pussy with my cock, and now its time for you ass.” rafe grins while your eyes widen.

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museaway · 6 months

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ask box trick-or-treat (fic writer edition)

Send an ask with "Trick or treat!" to the writer who reblogged this & you could receive a 3-sentence fic, drabble, headcanon, sneak-peek at a WIP, the last sentence they wrote, a new fic idea, random line from a fic, picture of their notebook, a deleted line they love, an idea for a sequel, something they're researching, behind-the-scenes info on a published fic, or something else!

happy halloween!

reblog to welcome trick-or-treaters to your inbox! 🕸️🦇

#ask game #writer ask game #fanfic ask game #writer asks #inbox trick or treating #it's only october 20th but this is the halloween website #and you can schedule the post for the day you'd like to play!#plus people might want time to write drabbles

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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 months

Note

Valentines day blurbs?

How about Y/N giving Lucifer a homemade duck plush holding a heart for valentines day? He'd probably love it!!

FUCK YOU LILITH, YOU TWO-TIMING BITCH!!!

A/n: I'm dead 😂, also adorable prompt.

Wetting your lips, you smiled to yourself fixing up the duck plush that you had sewn for Lucifer. It was your first Valentine's Day together and you wanted it to be special. Attaching the little heart, you hummed with satisfaction.

"Perfect."

Grabbing the plush duck, you made your way to where Lucifer was waiting for you. Your jaw dropping once you entered the room. It was all decked out, various ballon's encompassing the room. Various flowers in vases, rose petals on the ground. Your gaze finally falling to the man holding a box of chocolates in his arms with your favorite anima in plush form.

"W-what's all this?"

Giving you a sheepish smile, Lucifer let out s nervous laugh. "You deserve this and more...thank you for choosing me."

Shaking your head, you did your best to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. "Lucifer." He was to sweet, your heart was racing as you then shoved the duck in his face. "I MADE THIS FOR YOU."

Eye's going wide, Lucifer placed the gifts for you down onto a small table as he carefully took the plush duck from you. "You made this?" His lips quivered for a moment and before you had the chance to respond Lucifer pulled you into his arms, the duck squished between you to as he kissed you deeply.

Breaking the kiss, he then nuzzled his head against your own. A light giggle escaping your lips as he clung to you. "You're so wonderful, happy Valentine's day beautiful."

Placing your hand on Lucifer's cheek, it was cute seeing his smile face. "Happy Valentine's Day Lucifer."

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

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month

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pure fluff, fem reader, not proofread, katsuki really likes the way you smell, talks of marriage, katsuki being an absolute demon, biting bc is it rlly a cash fic if it doesn’t involve katsuki biting us ? lemme know if i missed sum else <3

a.n.: ..so this came to me in the middle of the night and i had to write it down before i forgot about it…please do not perceive me🫶🏾

katsuki keeps sniffing at your wrist.

for some reason, he keeps bringing your palm towards his face and you imagined he’d kiss it if he was feeling a little sweeter than usual or he’d bite your finger if he was feeling like a little shit.

imagine your surprise when instead, he just sniffs you and goes right back to watching tv.

he does it for the fifth time in the span of a few seconds and you turn your head that was smooshed into his chest staring at the tv to stare at him with a brow raised.

“katsuki.” he only grunts in response, nose pressed to your pulse point. a deep, grumbled noise comes from the deepest part of his chest when you try to pull your arm out of his grip.

“quit squirmin’. ”

“katsuki !” you squeal, giggling. katsuki grunts into your skin, pulling your hand closer to his face.

“what’re you doing ?” you chirp.

“ya smell like somethin’” is all he offers you for a response, your lip pulls up in confusion. you tilt your head.

“like what ?”

“i dunno, s’like—” he cuts himself off, pulls your hand away from his face to stare up at the ceiling in thought, only to bring it back to his nose.

you can’t help laughing at his behavior “ like what ?” you urge.

“different.” he settles “this some new perfume or somethin’ ?” he asks seriously, lifting himself up so he can sit up against the couch cushion and you follow, no longer laying but sitting up in his lap.

“not really, it’s this new body wash i found at the mall !” katsuki grunts in acknowledgment “was walking around with a friend and she recommended it to me, so i figured i’d give it a shot.” you explain.

“smells good right ?” you ask excitedly. katsuki damn near growls at your wrist, then he drops it and stuffs his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you tightly like he’s trying to squeeze you to death, pulling you closer to him.

“so fuckin’ good.” he rumbles, the way his voice deepens has shivers going down your spine and has you impossibly giddy.

“what soap is that ? need ta stock up on it.”

you roll your eyes “so you can steal it from me ? no thank you.”

“m’ your boyfriend, you’re s’posed to share with me. what’s that saying? what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours ?” his voice is smushed against the fabric of your clothes because he can’t stay away from your skin for more than three seconds, going back for whiffs like an addict. you wrap your arms around him with a snort.

“isn’t that saying usually for married couples ? we’re not married.”

“yet.”

your heartbeat quickens and you feel your skin prickle and go hot at how casually he uttered the word. you play around with the hairs on his nape.

“..yet” you utter quietly. his nose is pressed against your addams apple, deeming it his new favorite spot to sniff at you like a dog. “so until then, my secret stays with me.”

“tch, stingy woman.” he scoffs “might have to marry you sooner than i thought.” he smirks.

you move to shove your head into his shoulder in embarrassment and he straight up laughs, the asshole. you’d be angry if you weren’t as in love with him as you were in this very moment.

“oi, i told you to quit squirming.” he jests.

“katsukiii !” you whine. he only chuckles, greatly enjoying the way he’s tormenting you.

“what ?” he snorts, his nose is pressed to your shoulder “don’t act brand new, you knew i was gonna marry you.”

“this is bullying.” he barks out a loud laugh at your flustered response.

“me puttin’ a ring on that fuckin—” he grabs your hand again and presses his lips to your ring finger “divine smellin’ finger of yours is bullying ?” he chuckles.

“you’re so weird.” you can’t help the smile that grows against his shoulder and he feels it too, the smirk against your finger only grows.

“right back atcha.” he snickers, then bites into your shoulder like he’s trying to take a chunk out of you.

“ouch ! katsuki !” you yelp, smacking his back lightly, all he does is snicker like the evil motherfucker he is.

“sorry, baby.” he apologizes but you can hear in the teasing lilt in his voice he regrets absolutely nothing “ ya smell so good i couldn’t help it.”

a.n. : i actually don’t know if that saying is usually for married couples but pls ignore it for plot sake thx 🤞🏽💓

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willowser · 4 months

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after you and katsuki have the "baby talk", you're being wrapped up in him in bed and your toes are curled and you can feel the nerves tingling even in the tips of your fingers and you're shuddering through the aftershocks of a GREAT orgasm and he's so close and fucking you so deeply and lovingly and he sits up suddenly, back on his knees, to ask—

"'kay, 'm not," he's breathing so hard, skin tan and gleaming with sweat, and you don't know if he notices, but his hands are shaking when he rests them on your thighs. "'m not pullin' out, right?"

you try to swallow and your throat is dry, the nerves in your belly buzzing for a different reason. "yeah," you breathe, shifting your hips absently, yearning for the friction when he hisses and holds you still. "i mean, unless you...want to."

"d'you want me to?"

and despite the fact that you just had this conversation—you feel shy, suddenly, a little flustered at the thought that he's, essentially, putting a baby in you.

but katsuki swallows hard and wets his lips and he's flushed, in the low light of your bedroom. it could be from all the activity, sure, but his own end is coming a lot sooner than it usually does and you have an idea why that might be.

"no," you tell him, honestly, "not really."

before he can finish letting out his sharp exhale, he's back on you, cradling your face in his hands as he speaks, breathless, against your lips. "fine by me."

(and it doesn't take much more than that.)

#*after you have the baby talk=approx. thirteen minutes after #we're three days into jan. whoops #this doesnt count as a drabble hush hush it's just a silly lil thought 😌#i think it takes a long time for him to be ready to have the baby talk #and once he IS ready he's READY ykwim 😏😏😏#cw pregnancy #???????#cw children #?????#just to be safe 😌🙏🏼✨️#cw breeding #???????????#✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: domestic bakugou

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suguann · 2 months

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“Please,” you whimper, head falling back onto Gojo’s shoulder.

He chuckles, a breathy thing in your ear that sends goosebumps across your skin. “Begging already, pretty girl? Your little princess cunt is so needy,” he coos, kissing your cheek.

More tears leak down the apples of your cheeks with every thrust of his thick cock up into your pussy, the feeling of fullness an understatement to the way he splits you in two. And your thighs shake from how wide you’re being spread, only staying open by Gojo’s bruising grip beneath your knees.

“If you ask nicely for what you want, maybe he’ll give it to you,” your husband offers evenly.

You peer at Kento, sitting in an armchair in front of the bed, his fingers folded across his chest while he watches you get ruined with color high in his cheeks. The tent in his dark pants reveals how he’s enjoying this as much as you, if not more.

“I-I want—”

A harsh slap against your thigh cuts you off with a sharp squeak. “Pay attention to the one who’s fucking you, pretty girl.”

Gojo gives a rough thrust, bottoming out again, his cock teasing a softer part deep inside you before you can say anything. Your eyes roll back, drool pooling and dripping out of the corner of your mouth until—

He stops.

“N-no, please,” you try a second time, desperate.

He rocks his hips lightly, making you whine. “Please, what, huh?”

A little defiant, “make me cum." A sweeter please when he doesn't move right away.

With a low growl, the snapping of his hips against yours resumes echoing around the room, one of his hands letting go of your knees to seek out the little, achy bundle of nerves between your thighs.

All it takes is a few swipes of his fingers against your clit, and a clear liquid gushes from between your legs, soaking the bed until everything is wet and messy—incoherent, strangled whimpers fall from your lips as you shake and fall limp against Gojo’s chest.

“That’s a good girl,” you hear someone say, but your mind is too busy floating to guess who.

masterlist

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pupkashi · 2 months

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satoru loves yapping [to you]

satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.

“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.

it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.

“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.

“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.

“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.

satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.

“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.

“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.

“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.

you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.

“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.

it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.

“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.

“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.

“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.

your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.

you can’t help but smile at your lover.

“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.

masterlist

a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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gabenathreversebang · 1 year

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Enjoy today's A Drabble A Day prompts. You may choose your favorite prompt or use all three to create a drabble!

This challenge is 100% optional. This is not a mandatory part of the Reverse Bang, and you don't have to participate every single day in order to be involved.

You may use the prompts to inspire a traditional drabble (100 words exactly) or a short story of any length! Our only rule is that you keep any NSFW content out of your fic, as this drabble event is part of the Reverse Bang. Post the results wherever you like. You can add your story to our collection on AO3.

If you post your drabbles, we'd greatly appreciate a little shout out to the Reverse Bang so we can bring more writers onboard! If you need some inspiration, here is an example below:

I wrote this story using a prompt provided by the GabeNath Reverse Bang! Sign-ups for the main challenge are currently open. Please check it out and tell your friends! More info is available at https://gabenathreversebang.tumblr.com/

Today's prompts are as followed:

1. “what do you know about love”

2. doing her makeup

3. sharing a bottle of wine

#a drabble a day #gabenath reverse bang #miraculous ladybug #gabenath #miraculous ladybug fanfiction

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ushitenevent · 1 year

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Gold Dust (touch-starved Ushijima) (G, ~1800 words)

☼ UshiTen Exchange 2023 Creator Sign Ups: here ☼ UshiTen Exchange 2023 Beta Sign Ups: here ☼ Join us at the UshiTen Exchange Discord: here

Ushijima Wakatoshi is not, as a general matter, a tactile person. He never learned how. His mother was older when she had him and was not, as a general matter, particularly warm and his father’s favorite form of affection was setting a volleyball to Wakatoshi so that he could learn how to spike it back. At most, sometimes his grandmother would hold him when his stomach hurt, or his grandfather would ruffle his hair when he showed him a finished drawing. But even that was only on special occasions. Mostly, Wakatoshi was not held, casually or otherwise; consequently, he learned early that this was not something you did and, in return, this was not something he overly thought of.

It never occurred to him that this was out of the ordinary. No one had ever broached his personal space when he was growing up and as he grew taller—and broader, and stronger—no one else further dared.

It’s Semi who makes the observation, one day in their second year on the volleyball team.

“You really don’t like people touching you, do you?”

It’s the first time Wakatoshi even considers the subject.

“That isn’t true,” he says, puzzled by the question. “I’m not bothered by it.”

Semi blinks and gives him a look of half-surprise.

“Really?” he says. “Then how come you’re the only one Tendou doesn’t touch?”

Wakatoshi never considers it before—that he might come off as touch-averse—but once Semi points it out, there’s nothing else he can think of. It’s obvious, now that someone has brought it to his attention. He rifles through two years of memories and the evidence is so clear that he’s not sure how could have missed it before. In two years, there’s nothing else there but the very first time they had met, two fifteen year olds, freshly named to the volleyball team. Tendou had offered Wakatoshi his hand, and after a long moment of hesitation, Wakatoshi had taken it. That was all. That was the last time Tendou had even attempted to touch him.

The more Wakatoshi thinks about it, the more obvious it becomes, and the more obvious he finds it, the more upset he gets. Because while it’s true that Ushijima Wakatoshi is not, as a general matter, a tactile person, it is equally true that Tendou Satori, as a general matter, is the most touch-forward person Wakatoshi has ever met.

Tendou touches people the way that most people smile, genuinely and without a second thought. His touches are graceful and fleeting, a momentary brush of his fingers or the solid press of his palm for only a few seconds. There’s no ulterior motive behind it; he touches because that is how he expresses himself, because Tendou Satori is all explosive energy and external fire and, in those few moments, something both ephemeral and grounding.

It’s in the way that slings his arm over Goshiki’s shoulder, pulling him in close and whispering into his ears before letting him go. Or the way he will run his fingers through Semi’s hair teasingly, just to mess it up a little, just to get a reaction out of Semi, but just as often to fix what’s messed with a warm, teasing smile. When Reon isn’t paying attention and stumbles into someone, Tendou will catch him with a steadying grip on his arm, and when Shirabu is being a little bitchy—which even Ushijima, who never has a mean thought about anyone, can admit he is being—Tendou will place his hand in the middle of Shirabu’s back and give him a little shove to counteract his bad attitude. Tendou touches his teammates constantly, with little thought and great abandon.

Once Semi tells him, Wakatoshi can see it everywhere. Tendou leaning against a teammate, or idly playing with their hand when they’re sitting together, pressing his thigh against someone else’s for comfort, or draping his chin over someone’s shoulder as he talks across the room to someone else.

Tendou gives his touches freely, generously. But no matter how many people Tendou touches, how many people he brushes against, there is one person Tendou Satori never comes close to.

Wakatoshi wonders why. And then he wonders why it bothers him to be the only one left out.

They graduate together—Ushijima, Tendou, Semi, and Reon. It’s a long ceremony, because what is Shiratorizawa if not a little pretentious and thirsty for prestige? Their graduates always go on to do great, esteemed things, so they throw a ceremony that reflects this expectation. As it is, Wakatoshi is joining the Schweiden Adlers, Tendou has secured a coveted internship with a pastry school in Paris, Reon is beginning college courses in business, and Semi is…starting a band?

“Music?” Tendou laughs, throwing an arm around Semi’s shoulder that Ushijima definitely does not notice and definitely is not jealous about. “Your great plan is to starve while playing the guitar?”

“Fuck off,” Semi says and shrugs off Tendou’s touch. “You’ll be sorry when I’m a rockstar and you—”

“Are making pastries in Paris?” Tendou says grinning and pinches Semi’s cheek. Semi slaps his hand away and Wakatoshi finds himself irrationally annoyed. “In the city of love?”

“You’re so annoying,” Semi glares at his closest friend. “I hope you die.”

Tendou laughs and throws his arms around Semi’s neck. He leans up close and smacks a loud kiss to his cheek that makes Semi glare and Wakatoshi burn. “Come visit me in France before I do.”

Wakatoshi’s father is abroad and his mother is too busy to attend his graduation ceremony. He’s too used to the situation to be offended, but it does make something twinge in him to see his friends and classmates with their families around them—how Reon’s father claps him on the shoulders, and how Semi’s mother fusses with his hair, and how Tendou is engulfed by both of his parents in a hug that makes it obvious where he got all of his affection from.

Wakatoshi isn’t jealous, really, and he’s not bitter either. But it does make a part of him ache with grief, because for the first time in his life, he realizes how much he’s missed, by not being touched at all.

Wakatoshi accompanies Tendou to the airport. It’s the last time he will see his best friend for the foreseeable future, so he doesn’t mind it—sitting on the train next to him while Tendou gestures wildly and rattles on about all of the things he will do in Paris.

There’s three inches of space between their thighs. No matter how wide Tendou gestures, it never comes close to Wakatoshi. It makes him sad in a disconsolate way that he is not used to. He would like to close the gap, but he doesn’t know how. Ushijima Wakatoshi is good at a lot of things, but this is not one of them.

“—and then we’ll see the Eiffel Tower while eating a croissant and after, we’ll get a Nutella crepe to share, and we’ll walk along the Seine while wearing berets and striped turtlenecks, and it will all be so offensive that the French will probably want to kick us out of the country!” Tendou says excitedly, with a laugh so wild and free it’s nearly infectious.

They’re inside the airport now, before the security line. Tendou will have to leave him soon. Wakatoshi does not want him to.

“Won’t that be fun, Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou says with that warm, open smile. “You’ll come, right? You promise?”

Wakatoshi watches his best friend’s expressive face—his wide, electric eyes, the curve of his infectious smile, the untamable, fiery hair, and the slope of a small nose Wakatoshi knows so well. He knows nearly everything about Tendou, except for the one thing he wants to know most.

“Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou says, his smile faltering. “You promise, right?”

“Satori,” Wakatoshi says.

Tendou blinks. “What is it?”

“We are best friends, are we not?”

“What? Of course we are!”

“And you find me pleasing to be around, do you not?”

Tendou laughs, a little nervously. “We wouldn’t be best friends if I didn’t!”

“You do not dislike me,” Wakatoshi says. “Or find me disagreeable. Or repulsive.”

“Of course not, Wakatoshi.” Tendou’s brows furrow. “What’s this all about?”

“I have been wondering something,” Wakatoshi says. “For some time.”

Tendou looks at him, confused and concerned. It occurs to Wakatoshi then that there’s no way to explain this; there is no good way to walk Tendou through years of avoidance and only tell him now, as they part, that Wakatoshi wishes he, too, had been touched by Tendou Satori.

Wakatoshi takes a deep breath. He feels a little jittery, but he thinks there is only one way to solve this issue. Ushijima Wakatoshi is not a man of many words, but he is a man of action. Tendou will not understand it if he asks, so Wakatoshi will show him what he means instead.

The first time Wakatoshi touches Tendou, it’s gentle—the brush of volleyball-calloused fingers to Tendou’s jaw. Tendou’s eyes widen in shock. He inhales loudly.

Wakatoshi’s palm curves around Tendou’s cheek. The skin warms under Wakatoshi’s hand and he thinks, with sudden clarity: I understand now, why people need this.

Tendou looks up at Wakatoshi, surprised, but not unhappy.

“Yeah?” he says quietly. “Are you sure?”

Wakatoshi nods.

“Oh,” Tendou says. Then, “Okay.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he touches his fingertips to Wakatoshi’s wrist and Wakatoshi smiles.

The second time Wakatoshi touches Tendou, it’s firm. It’s in the middle of an airport, on the brink of departure. Tendou will be gone for years and Wakatoshi will be busy for that amount of time too. Maybe he will visit France and they will offend some French locals. Maybe Tendou will come back and they will play volleyball at the park.

But each time he visits—and each time Tendou returns—it will be the same as this. They will do this over and over again, Wakatoshi promises.

Wakatoshi , something starved inside of him finally quieting, Tendou with a smile so bright and so disbelieving that Wakatoshi thinks he understands better now, why he had never tried to touch him before.

Wakatoshi closes the gap between them and kisses Tendou Satori on the mouth.

It’s the second time they touch and the beginning of a third time, a fourth time, a fifth, a sixth, a lifetime of just this—of kisses, of leaving and returning, of grounding each other through the press of fingertips against skin. It is what Wakatoshi has never gotten, what he has only realized recently he was missing, and what Tendou promises him an entire lifetime of.

“Ah,” Tendou says as Wakatoshi pulls back, warm and a little flushed. His fingers press against Wakatoshi’s neck, against the barrel of his chest. Little presses of Tendou against all of the hollow places of Wakatoshi. “Some things are worth waiting for after all.”

Wakatoshi agrees. Then, happily, he leans down and kisses him again.

#ushiten #ushijima x tendou #haikyuu #a drabble a day

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crying-over-spilled-feels · 1 year

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The Magic of Beginnings

Disclaimer: I do not own either of the canon characters. They belong solely to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. No monetary gain is being made from this drabble. I did, however, re-name my female Byleth in-game to Atarah, as I thought Byleth was the name for the male hero since that was the name in my fiancé’s playthrough when he would play as I studied for Nursing school exams nearly two years ago. Oops. So, any mention to Atarah is indeed a blue-haired female Byleth.

----------------------

When Atarah the blue-haired daughter of the famed Captain Jeralt first begins her position at the monastery, Claude is instantly by her side.

“You came!” he happily chirrups, and almost blinding smile appearing on his lips. “I’m so happy you did,” the leader of the Golden Deer adds, dropping the volume of his voice to nearly a whisper.

“That I did,” Atarah softly grins, a small quirk of her lips and nothing more. “Apparently my father and I are in high demand around here,” the famed mercenary continues as she and Claude walk through the courtyard together. “It seems we both have our work cut out for us.”

“Indeed. Though, from what I saw of your skill in battle when you saved us from those thieves, they’re right to proposition you to stay,” Claude compliments, his eyes shining at the recent memory. “Although, I hope their offer was not as tactless as Dimitri’s and Edelgard’s were,” he laughs, thinking of those two house leaders trying to recruit Atarah immediately following the battle with the thieves.

------------------------

“Is there something you wanted, Claude?” Atarah inquires some time later as she realizes they have nearly reached her quarters and the heir to the Alliance is still animatedly chatting with her.

“Hmm?” Claude hums, slight confusion etched on his brow. “Must I want something to spend time with you, Atarah? After that battle and our journey here, I would consider us to be friends,” he admits, suddenly pulling up to a stop as they reach Atarah’s quarters.

Atarah’s cheeks quickly develop a scarlet blush in embarrassment as she looks up at Claude.

“I’m sorry, Claude. I… I…” Atarah stammers, and she can’t help but use one of Jeralt’s favorite curses in her head. “Of course I didn’t mean it to sound like that. My social skills will need some work, it seems,” the blue-haired mercenary admits, the color still painting her cheeks. “Floating from battlefield to battlefield with my father never left me the option of speaking to those my own age, I’m afraid,” she continues, and Atarah wonders what the smooth-talking heir of the Alliance could possibly be thinking about her now.

Claude gently laughs, clasping Atarah’s hands in his warmer, larger ones before he speaks again, his green eyes locking on Atarah’s azure blue ones.

“Atarah, I mean what I said about thinking of you as my friend,” he assures, squeezing Atarah’s hands gently. “Let’s just spend the next year or so learning about each other, little by little,” Claude suggests, that dazzling smile of his appearing and making Atarah go weak at the knees.

(Goddess, he truly is handsome!)

“I’d… I’d like that very much, Claude,” Atarah smiles back.

“Then I bid you goodnight, my Lady,” Claude grins, dropping a kiss to the back of her hand before turning back towards his own quarters.

The new professor of the Blue Lions quickly closes her door with a sigh, slumping to the floor with a dreamy far-off look in her eyes.

Whenever they both have a free moment, Claude and Atarah are nearly inseparable. They walk through the grounds of the monastery, talking about anything and everything, ranging from their unnatural upbringings to discovering their birthdays are only a day apart, with Atarah’s being the day before Claude’s. As they walk and explore the monastery together, Claude learns that Atarah feels most at peace in nature and can handle a sword better than anyone, other than Felix, that he’s ever met. Meanwhile, Atarah learns that Claude is a terrible cook, as she learns the hard way when he burns the meal they were cooking together in the dining hall, and that the heir of House Riegan would rather shy away from any responsibility in favor of aiding those he cares about. They fall into a sort of pattern this way, spending time uninterrupted with each other at least every other day to the point that everyone else has begun to take notice. No matter. Let them be jealous of their newfound companionship if they wanted. It’s not like the opinions of others has ever mattered to Claude and Atarah, and it’s not like they are breaking any rules.

----------------------

When Lady Rhea discovers that Captain Jeralt’s only child’s birthday is fast approaching, she quickly and happily announces there will be a ball held in honor of Atarah as the newest professor of Garreg Mach Monastery. Knowing of Claude’s love of music and his birthday being the day after hers, Atarah suggests a joint party to Lady Rhea and Seteth. At this suggestion, Seteth speaks of “favoritism” and that it would mean they should have celebrated Edelgard’s birthday in this way, which had already passed. Atarah knows that very well, thank you very much, as she sent Edelgard flowers and dined with the leader of the Black Eagles to celebrate. Oh, well. She had tried, and no one can fault her for that.

----------------------

Atarah’s birthday and subsequent party quickly approach, and everyone at Garreg Mach is abuzz with energy. Jeralt begins the festivities by bringing his daughter breakfast in bed like he did every year prior with a smile on his lips and a second tray for himself.

“For you,” Captain Jeralt suddenly announces, producing a gift from seemingly nowhere with a grin lighting his features.

“It’s beautiful, Papa!” Atarah gasps, throwing her arms around Jeralt’s neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek at the sight of a brand new, handcrafted sword.

“You’ve been training so much that I knew you’d love a new one. Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Jeralt whispers, and Atarah thinks of how privileged she is to be the only one alive who gets to see Captain Jeralt, her fearless father, at his kindest. After her breakfast with her father, Atarah walks into the Blue Lions lecture room to find everyone waiting for her, which is definitely strange since Sylvain is almost always late.

“What’s all this, then?” she inquires, taking in all of the excited faces.

A chorus of “Happy birthday!” soon rings out. Atarah’s heart swells at the gesture.

--------------------------

That evening, the party commences after dinner and is planned to last halfway through the night, despite tomorrow being a training day. If there is one thing that does not mix well with Atarah, it’s being the center of attention in a social gathering. Due to her upbringing on many battlefields, she isn’t very talkative in general, preferring to listen and offer advice or an input when necessary. There are a handful of people who can consistently engage her in conversation, one of whom is coming towards her.

“You look beautiful, Teach,” Claude compliments, his voice breathy with emotion as he takes in the sight of Atarah wearing an emerald green dress that honestly matches Claude’s eyes.

“Thank you, Claude,” Atarah quietly returns, the tips of her ears turning pink as she meets Claude’s gaze. “You look quite handsome tonight,” she shyly grins, her blue eyes twinkling in the low light. “I really wish you’d stop calling me that, though.”

“Ah, c’mon, it’s funny!” Claude laughs, taking Atarah’s hand in his own. “I will try not to do it quite as much, then… Teach,” he continues, and Atarah playfully smacks his upper arm.

“You’re such an imp,” Atarah chuckles softly, the smallest quirk coming to her lips.

“Ah, but that’s one of my many charms,” Claude grins, showing all of his white teeth to the woman in front of him. “Now, c’mon, let’s have our one obligated dance we’ve agreed to, and then we can sneak on outta here,” he suggests, offering Atarah his hand as they prepare to join the other dancers.

“You mean it? You really want to dance with me?” Atarah inquires, hope evident in her voice as Claude gently pulls her on to the dance floor. “What if I step on your feet?”

“Of course I wanna dance with you, Atarah,” Claude answers in earnest, using one of his hands to tuck a loose strand of blue hair behind her ear. “I did tell you I was a treasure on the dance floor, and I intend to show you that,” he teases, his emerald eyes shining in mirth. “And don’t worry about stepping on my toes. I’m sure I’ve sustained many more injuries training against Dimitri and Edelgard.”

-----------------------

After they dance to two slow songs and one fast dance complete with plenty of spinning and twirling, Claude and Atarah sneak out of the side door and head for the grassy field behind the monastery. Neither of them do particularly well in large crowds, and with everyone living at Garreg Mach in attendance, the room was practically filled to the brim. Once they are far enough away from the hustle and bustle noise of the party, Atarah and Claude flop down, the grass tickling against Atarah’s pale, bare legs.

“There! That’s much better! Isn’t it, Teach?” Claude happily sighs, reclining in the grass with his arms behind his head.

“It absolutely is,” Atarah agrees, the smallest of smiles on her lips as she sits next to Claude. “You are quite the splendid dancer, Claude. I could hardly keep up,” she compliments, her blue eyes locking onto his green ones.

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” Claude admits, his smile radiating in the darkness. “I’d gladly dance with you again, just say the word,” he winks, and that silent blush returns to Atarah’s cheeks.

Atarah simply grabs Claude’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, one of their many forms of silent communication they have built over the past few months. With that, they both settle into the grass to watch the stars shining down from above.

----------------------

The bell over the monastery chimes as it does five minutes before the end of the hour, and that snaps Claude and Atarah out of their silent reverie with the stars.

“Teach, quick! Make a birthday wish before the night’s over!” Claude declares, jerking himself upright, pulling Atarah up with him until they are sitting practically nose-to-nose.

“Whatever would I wish for?” Atarah inquires, not quite remembering if she has ever made a birthday wish in the past.

“Whatever your heart desires! C’mon, give it a try,” the leader of the Golden Deer urges, clasping Atarah’s hands in his own.

Quirking her brow at him before acquiescing, Atarah closes her blue eyes and makes her birthday wish. Suddenly, flashes of light appear even behind her eyelids and when Atarah opens her eyes, Claude and the rest of the world before her are bathed in the lights and colors of fireworks.

“Whatcha think?” Claude inquires, holding Atarah’s right hand tenderly with his left.

“It… It’s magical!” Atarah gasps, the breath nearly leaving her body. “I wonder how they…” she begins to question before Claude cuts her off.

“I told them. I knew how much you’ve always wanted to see fireworks, Teach.”

“Claude, I… Thank you! I don’t know what to…”

Suddenly, Claude acts on impulse and crashes their lips together, his right hand coming to rest on her cheek while his left curls protectively around Atarah’s waist. Atarah is originally shell-shocked due to never being kissed before, but she quickly matches Claude’s rhythm, switching from gentle and demure to more demanding effortlessly. As the clock strikes midnight, switching from the 23rd to the 24th of Blue Sea Moon, they part.

“Happy birthday, Atarah,” Claude whispers, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Happy birthday, Claude,” Atarah gently returns, her heart swelling with the magic of new beginnings.

---------------------------

Author’s Note: So, I started my first Fire Emblem: Three Houses playthrough a few months ago and picked the Blue Lions house because I liked the rest of the students from the house the best out of all the cast. However, in my heart of hearts, my female Byleth (here named Atarah because when I made my playthrough I didn’t realize that Byleth was the canon name for the protagonist until my fiancé pointed that out to me) falls in love with and marries Claude because his storyline and the interest he shows in female Byleth/Atarah in my game is just so insanely precious. So, yes, Atarah in my playthrough is the professor for the Blue Lions house but she is courting and then ends up marrying Claude. This is the first step on their journey together in which per the in-game dialogue, Claude says he wants to “spend the next year or so learning about each other, little by little”, which is what inspired this fic to take hold. I know I technically wrote it for the “A Drabble a Day” challenge that I have fallen behind on- and subsequently backdated some of my works because I had this fic and about thirty others written at the end of December 2022, I promise, but my work schedule gets in the way of posting- even though this is very clearly a story much longer than a drabble. Anyway, all this to say I hope you sincerely enjoyed my first Claude/female Byleth (Atarah) story and expect to see more of this pairing from me in the future as I continue to play the game once I have a break from work and once my wedding is in just more than two weeks! Until next time, my dear readers! Have an amazing day, afternoon, or night!

P.S. Let me know who your favorite Fire Emblem: Three Houses popular pairing is and who your favorite Fire Emblem: Three Houses rare pair is!

#fire emblem: three houses #claude von riegan #claude/byleth #female byleth #byleth #my female byleth is named Atarah because my fiancé didn't tell me Byleth was canon until after I made my character #oops #my female Byleth will thus always be referred to as Atarah #a drabble a day #writing every day

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

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orange peel theory (dark! and soft!rafe)

words: 1k (about 500 words each)

warnings: name calling, suggestive

orange peel theory: girlfriends ask their boyfriend to peel an orange for them, as a test to see if they are willing to help with small tasks that the girlfriend can do herself

dark

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions, looking at you with concern, not sure if he’s ever seen you read before.

“nothing.” you shake your head, shutting the book and setting it down, glancing at your phone to make sure it is still recording. “how was work?”

“fucking tiring. dealing with idiots all day.” rafe spits the words out before toeing his shoes off and leaving them in the center of the room.

“im sorry.” you pout, standing up as rafe takes a seat on the edge of the bed. you move to stand in between his thighs, pressing a kiss to his lips. he sighs with satisfaction, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, rubbing over them, tucking his fingertips under your shorts to feel your bare skin.

“can you get me an orange rafe? i’m craving one.” you move away from him, setting back on your chair to make sure you are centered in the camera.

rafe gives you a confused look but nods, mainly because he also needs to get a glass of water for himself. he re-enters the room, tossing the orange towards you, which you catch easily.

“thanks.” you smile as rafe takes a sip of water and then sets it on the nightstand. “can you peel it for me though babe?”

“what?” he questions, moving to kneel between your legs, an amused look on his face. “my stupid little slut not able to peel it on her own? too much of a baby?” “rafey.” you whine as he takes the orange out of your hand, unpeeling it and tossing the peel into the trash. he pulls a piece and then hovers it in front of your mouth.

“open up whore, i know how much you love to do that.” rafe taunts you before you lean forward, taking the slice of orange into your mouth and pulling it out of his fingers, letting the citrusy taste flood your mouth.

“you are so mean, this was supposed to be for tiktok.” you point out your phone, making rafe turn to look at the screen opened and recording.

“what?”

“for tiktok, its some trend about asking your boyfriend to peel an orange for you to see if he will do small tasks for you, and you totally failed!” you whine, stamping your feet on the ground in annoyance.

“but i peeled the orange for you.” rafe says with confusion.

“while also calling me a stupid whore!” you stand up, grabbing your phone and stopping the recording, knowing you won’t put it on tiktok.

“are you not my dumb little slut?” rafe asks, standing and stepping close to you, hovering over with his intimidating height.

“i mean i am, but-”

“exactly.” rafe cuts you off, pressing his lips against yours as he backs you up towards the bed.

soft

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“hey baby.” rafe leans down and gives you a kiss on the top of your head, which you quickly tilt up to have him press a second one to your lips.

“how was work?” you ask, setting your book to the side, glancing at your phone to make sure its still recording.

“exhausting.” rafe sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, making you pout.

“im sorry bubs.” you comment as he sits down on the bed to take his work shoes off.

“no big deal. how was your day?” rafe asks.

“good…” you shrug. you usually go into more detail, and rafe knows it, so he sits quietly, waiting for you to continue. “but i’m actually really hungry.” you blurt out, figuring you shouldn’t delay any longer as you look at your phone again, lucky that rafe doesn’t follow your line of sight.

“what are you hungry for? we can order delivery.” rafe knows you like to cook, but he also doesn’t force it on you, leaving the option to get takeout open whenever you are tired or simply don’t feel like cooking.

“i actually just want an orange.” you shrug.

“thats not really food, darling, but okay.” rafe stands, setting his shoes on the rack next to the door before heading out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.

you can’t help smiling at the camera as you wait, covering your mouth as rafe reenters, already knowing that he’s going to pass the test.

“here ya go.” rafe hands you a bowl instead of an orange, making your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, before you take it and realize that the orange is already peeled and pulled apart, ready for you to enjoy.

“raaafe.” you whine.

“what?” rafe kneels down in front of your chair, placing his hands on your knees.

“i wanted a whole orange.” you complain, pouting your lower lip out as rafe looks at you in complete confusion.

“why, were you gonna eat the peel or something?” rafe laughs.

“no, its supposed to be a thing for tiktok.” you point towards your phone, which takes rafe a second to see from its hidden position. “you’re supposed to bring me an orange and i ask you to peel it to see if you’ll help me with a small task.”

“should i bring you back a whole orange then so you can ask?” rafe questions.

“no, i don’t even really want an orange to be honest.” you admit. rafe looks down into the bowl, taking a piece and putting it into his mouth, chewing it up.

“what do you want then honey?”

“can you get me a banana?” you tilt your head to the side. rafe nods, grabbing the bowl from your lap before heading back to the kitchen.

you grab your phone and set it closer. “he’s just too good of a boyfriend.” you sigh as rafe comes back through the door, handing you a banana.

you smile at him in thanks, taking it out of his hand before he leans to press a kiss to your cheek, glancing at the camera, still recording when you realize how you can still test the theory.

“peel it for me babe?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

#i firmly believe that whether dark or soft rafe will peel that damn orange!#its just how much hes gonna make fun of you doing it lol #really these are the same rafe just depending on his mood that day lmao #rafe drabble #rafe cameron drabble #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #soft!rafe cameron #soft!rafe x reader #soft!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic

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planetkiimchi · 1 year

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no. 1 of my song collection

summary — two kids growing up together fell in love, and one of them, reminiscing, suddenly wonders if their remaining love is one-sided.

a/n: i listened to this song on repeat for a longg time and it was just so pretty and i love best friends to lovers so this was a combination of the two :]

i remember when we were five, we thought we were the coolest thing around. we paraded the house with our painted faces and temporary tattoos messily pressed onto our skin, clothes hanging on our itty-bitty bodies as we made chaos out of the silence of the house.

i remember our raucous laughter. it filled me up inside, felt like the warm milk my mother gave us to drink on a rainy day when we were told to stay inside. i used to hate it, i remember, and you always told me to “just drink it”, that it “wasn’t that bad” and i was just too fussy, and i’d remind you of the vegetables you left on your plate and we’d both go silent.

not for long, though.

i remember when we were six, the first day of primary school. it was such an alien place (and we’d left home so early, i hadn’t had time to meet you) and i was so lost, until we found each other and then it felt like it wasn’t that bad, wasn’t that lonely after all.

you made all the cool friends and i stuck to you like a magnet; you were always the extroverted one. i build slow friendships, the kind that lasted over a long period of time. i made quality friends like you.

i remember being seven, fiddling with crayons and colour pencils as we created art for a homework assignment. back when we drew our sun in the corner of our papers and drew sticks for people, stacked a triangle on top of a square and called it a house.

if you looked into our windows made from 1+1=, you could see the soul of our art, and eyes that sparkled like they'd never seen the world.

during that time, all there was to life was being messy and unapologetically loud, creativity spilling out of us the way our food often spilled at mealtimes.

i remember being eight and running down the school hallways in uncomfortable uniforms, shoes skidding on the slippery floor. the structured routine we had then appeals to me now, and the friends we had that we only ever spoke to in school.

i miss enjoying school, often anxious and nervous when we thought we might miss even a second of class.

and yet, our eager anticipation at the end of school, waiting for that glorious sound of the bell which would release us, the sound that led to freedom .

what a time that was.

i remember when we were nine, i think. you were on the field running, and i was screaming at you to slow down, because you ran so very fast and i couldn’t catch up. the teachers had told us not to run, that we’d be sweaty before our termly assessment, but of course we didn’t listen.

i remember regretting it all when i saw you fall down from a distance, panting as i caught up to you. your skinned knees were bleeding, not much, but enough to scare the both of us.

what had you skinned your knees on? i don't remember. perhaps it was the drain by the side of the football field, because surely there was no way to scrape your knees falling on faux grass.

we bawled our eyes out—i can’t remember who cried more, or longer, or harder—until an adult came over and told me to help you clean yourself up.

it was one of the scariest experiences in my childhood.

i remember when we were twelve, discovering how sexuality worked and i stumbled across a post online about “alterous attraction”. i’m still not sure if it was true, but i thought that maybe i felt something like that for you, wanted more than a platonic love.

it was hard to act on it, and i was so scared too.

i remember when we first decided to be "together". it was a foreign concept, difficult to establish, and we spent an entire night discussing it: who to tell? our parents? our other friends? how to let people know politely if they asked? would we announce it?

i remember while we were dating, it was a trying time, an awkward time. our patience seemed to be running thin; we grew sick of each other sometimes. too much time spend together, and we each needed our own space. we fought a lot during this time, and i wasn’t sure if i loved you any more.

i remember when we were fourteen, holding hands under the table when our families ate dinner together, you pushing the vegetables on your plate secretly to mine, and i sighed and rolled my eyes but ate it anyway.

we snuck into our rooms and locked the door that night, just to blast love songs and have karaoke sessions. no one batted an eye.

it was the most fun period of my life.

i remember being sixteen, and though the stress had been there all throughout our teenage years, it seemed to suddenly get exponentially worse when we were sixteen. i remember thinking, everyone calls it sweet sixteen, but this year seems more sour and tart than sugary sweet.

everyone was discovering themselves. friendships broke apart like ceramics, brittle but not weak. at the tipping point, everyone crumbled and relationships gave way. i was so afraid we would end up like that.

seventeen was our best year yet. i remember buying trendy clothes and gaudy accesories, which may have looked terrible on us, and going to concerts to scream our lungs out.

the elation of concerts fails to escape my memory. until now i can describe in vivid detail how it felt to be a part of a crowd, a huge group of people immersed in the music and the thrill of seeing someone we admired perform live in front of our very eyes.

the adrenaline rush was exhilarating. it made us breathless, and i remember us crying afterwards when it was all over, and how we could never quite experience it exactly that way again.

prom night was perhaps the most memorable. we dressed up neatly and smartly, did our hair and slicked it back. and for a moment only, we were truly dancing queens, only seventeen.

i remember being eighteen, not going to the bar to celebrate even though we were both old enough to drink, because we’d made a pact not to become alcoholics and to stay sober for as long as peer pressure would allow us to, and we’d heard tales of classmates having sex but we were both willing to abstain. “until marriage,” you used to say. “forever,” i’d joke.

but driving, we indulged in. fooling around in alleyways until we hit the main road, feeling victorious and elated. we didn't need to drink to be drunk, that giddy feeling of euphoria we had.

i remember missing out on parties, seeing instagram stories and posts of our friends clubbing with their hair down and loud music in the background. all this i spectated from afar, in teh comfort of the couch as i snuggled up against you while we watched silly movies.

do you remember?

do you remember, nineteen in the driver’s seat of my parents’ car. we didn’t crash, but when i scratched the car door it definitely felt like the whole world was crashing down upon me. you told me to finish parking, dragged me out and took me somewhere we could sit outside and drink warm milk as we searched the polluted sky for a glimpse of the stars.

i wonder if you remember, or maybe i simply hold you too dearly to my heart. maybe it all meant nothing to you, and i'm hanging on too tight to memories best let go of. perhaps i'm being overly sentimental and none of this meant anything in your course of life.

but if you do remember, i want you to know this: i have loved you since we were children. though that love has changed through time, the way we have, i would love to take you back to when we were nineteen and just live in the moment again.

#drabble #aesthetic #🪁 — my works #🎤 — spotify collections #Spotify #a drabble a day

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7brownsuga7 · 2 months

Text

Happy international women’s day lovelies <3

It’s international women’s day, so what better way to thank you and show you his admiration than having his cock curving into you, brushing against your tight walls and hitting your cervix? Having you cry out in pleasure as he thrusts into you repeatedly, not giving you a chance to catch your breath.

He’s so thankful to have you in his life. He wants to show you how empowering you are, and how much you inspire him. He wants to use this day to show you that he recognises all of your aspects and contributions.

He’s shown you how thankful he is for you, told you, and now he wants you to feel it. The great woman that you are… The good woman that you are…

So ready for him to fuck you like his life depends on it. Burying himself inside of you with so much precision and eagerness that it has you crying out for him. Nails clawing at his back, leaving your mark so people know he belongs to you.

The flower arrangement sits on your bedside, a small gesture to show his appreciation for you, even though at the moment he’s showing his appreciation in other ways.

Despite his harsh thrusts, his hands are careful as they roam your body. Touch like silk. His words just the same, so soft and delicate as his words flow through your ears and run through your body, making your pussy clench around him. Your juices coating his cock and the sheets below you. You’re always so wet for him.

“Nghh please” you cry out as his balls repeatedly slap against your ass, him hurried deep inside of you to the point he’s knocked all the air out of you.

“Please what baby?” He looks at you to see if you’re in any pain. He knows he can get too carried away, he can’t help it. Especially when he can feel your pussy clenching around him, sucking him in.

“Too good” you let out a breathy whimper, “too good” he kisses your collarbone as he whispers an “I know”. His own voice failing him as a whimper escapes his lips too. Head falling into the crook of your neck as he lets himself bask in everything that is you. Your pussy, your scent, your embrace, everything about you.

And when you both cum undone, him throbbing inside you as you both come down from your high, thick liquid oozing out of you, mixing with your juices, is when he’ll remind you of how much you mean to him.

And he’ll fuck you again and again and again, because showing you his appreciation is better than just telling you.

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