#no proofread we die like men

[unordinary-diary]

Arlo and Responsibility

‼️Minor spoiler warning for… I think just S1‼️

I’ve been thinking about Arlo a lot lately, and I think I finally figured him out. All of the characters in UnOrdinary have major, underlying themes to their characters: for John, power and lack thereof, for Blyke, protection, and for Seraphina, its freedom. But Arlo is unique in that his most prominent theme, responsibility, is so central that every aspect of him leads back to it. Allow me to elaborate.

According to Arlo, high tiers have a responsibility to lead, and set an example, to work hard and keep order. This is the fundamental philosophy that everything is built upon. When John confronted Arlo, shouting about how all John wanted was to live a peaceful life away from the rankings, Arlo says “Who doesn’t want to live a peaceful life?”. Arlo doesn’t believe he has a choice in anything— that he, along with all high tiers, have been conscripted into a particular role that none of them really want, but they all have the duty to fulfill.

Arlo is an extremely hard worker and he takes his responsibilities very seriously. This is why he resents Seraphina and John— they don’t. To him, Sera and John both ran away from their duties, leaving all of the burden on him. The reason he goes after John in the first place is because he “corrupted” Seraphina. Remember, when Rei graduated, the school was a whole dumpster fire and Arlo cleaned it up all by himself, with no support from the other royals. Then later when Arlo is working in tandem with Sera to lead, the school is “the most peaceful it’s ever been”. Then Sera leaves it all behind. He feels like he’s been left out to dry, and unfairly forced to do everything by himself.

This is reflected also in how he treats Isen at the beginning of season 2: he puts Isen as the press leader, and Isen pretty quickly gets crushed under that weight and tells Arlo he can’t do it. Arlo has none of it, and tells Isen to basically suck it up and fix the problem. He admits that he does set high expectations for others, but “never without a reason”. He smacks the relevant paper down on the table and says “This is for the press leader to handle.” Arlo is delegating firmly because he believes Isen is capable and needs that push, but also because he is sick of working overtime while others sit back.

Even in his relationship with Remi, it ties back to this theme. He protects and looks after Remi because he cares about her, obviously, but a major facet of their relationship is that he feels responsible for her. Rei told him to look after her when she was about to enter Wellston. She’s also younger, smaller, and weaker than Arlo is. Not to mention that she’s reckless and naïve, especially by Arlo’s standards. This ties into my earlier point about Arlo’s kingly duties— he does have other royals helping him run things, so why does he continually lament that he’s doing this on his own? I think it’s because he sees Remi more as someone to look after than as someone he can rely on. Sera however, he did see as a reliable partner and an equal.

#unordinary arlo #arlo unordinary #unordinary #analysis #I have more to say but I forgot what it is so I’ll add on later #No proofread we die like men #[EDIT: I proofread it and apparently I wrote “Snot to mention” so that’s fun]

[spidey-bie]

Everybody say thank you to @i-put-the-wit-in-dimwit

This has been in my drafts for the longest lol

What if Techpunk broke up?

Ansi was the one who proposed a relationship in the first place and yet here he was being the one to end it.

He claimed that they were better off as friends as opposed to whatever their relationship was now. They were neither friends nor lovers and yet the bond between them was unshakable. Or at least it had been.

Hobie didn't see it coming.

Frankly, no one saw it coming. Their relationship had been going so well ever since they reunited all those months ago. There was no reason that Hobie could think of for the sudden break up.

Despite Ansi's assurance that it wasn't anything he had done he still blamed himself. Most nights he spent pondering all the things that he could have done while downing bottles of Wray and Nephews. In the morning he'd wake up with a killer hangover and a leftover flannel of Ansi's in his arms.

Ansi wasn't faring any better.

She was an idiot and she knew it.

But he couldn't risk getting hurt anymore. At least if he ended things now he'd still have a good relationship with Hobie and the memories of what they used to be.

That's what she convinced herself as she cleaned the remains of her apartment. The minute that she walked in the house she thought back to what she had done. Overwhelmed by a number of emotions that she couldn't place she took out her feelings on whatever was in her life of sight. Now she was looking at her semi destroyed apartment.

Unfortunately he was starting to agree with Miguel.

Sometimes sacrifice is necessary.

At least now she didn't have to worry about Hobie coming to hate her.

As months passed people began to notice a change in both Ansi and Hobie's demeanor.

Ansi more cold and unreceptive than before.

Hobie seemed the same at first glance, but now he was more distant than before.

They'd both still share conversation or polite gestures while at HQ but it wasn't the same. It was as if the previous relationship had never existed.

When Ansi's scent finally faded from the clothes he left behind Hobie knew it was time for him to move on. He decided to drop his stuff back off to him. Opened the closet where he had stuffed all her things. Instead of looking for something he was finally gathering everything to give back.

He should've never opened the closet.

With each item he gathered a new memory resurfaced of their time together. Unfortunately he had to return Ansi his things.

It was long overdue. She had already returned most of his things the first week after the breakup. The only thing she said when she dropped by was for Hobie to return her stuff whenever he had the time.

He had finally gathered the strength to return the remainder of Ansi's stuff back to her so he could finally get over her.

At the same time Ansi was having a flare up and had called Bee (her world's Hobie) to come help. She thought that she was over Hobie but when she saw his face looking back at her she knew that wasn't true. She collapsed into his arms a wailing mess. This was the first time she'd cried since ending things with Hobie.

That was the scene that Hobie saw through her window. He didn't see the tears. Or the way Ansi fell to her knees at Bee's arrival. All he saw was Ansi in the warm embrace of his alternate self. He didn't need to see anymore. He left Ansi's stuff in the emergency staircase and returned back home.

He'd never let anyone get close to him like she had ever again.

@chessbox @ponfarrtimeatthevulcannightclub @pinkpinkspidey @onmyownside1 @stardust948 @autisticarach @hobiebrownismygod

#NO PROOFREAD WE DIE LIKE MEN #Ansi and her Bie #hobie x oc #my spidersona #cory writes #jay and the spiders

[accursedrainbow]

Can we pls talk about how bad Neo is at writing letters

#neo metal sonic #everytime I think about this I get hysterical #like he started it and then changed his mind on the opener and then just didn't delete it #he was just too excited he was finally gonna have His Moment #no proofread we die like men #sth #neo #🍉

[silverysongs]

Arthur is late one morning to breakfast. Guenevere doesn’t think too much about it; he’s cheerful as usual, apologizes even though she tells him he doesn’t have to. (She doesn’t have to say You’re the king. She doesn’t say I don’t mind waiting for you.) Breakfast proceeds as usual, and it’s not until it’s over that she notices something is wrong.

He stands—practically bounces out of his chair—and then sways, very slightly. He catches himself on the table. Guenevere doesn’t miss the way he swallows and stares at the plate he’s left behind.

“Your majesty,” she says, watching his face, “are you well?”

Now his head snaps up. “Perfectly,” he says, smiling, and his eyes are bright—too bright, she thinks. She opens her mouth to protest, but he announces, “My good queen, today we are going to change the world, just wait and see.”

“I’ll be waiting and watching,” she says wryly as they start down the hall. He takes her hand as they walk along, which sends a flash of surprise through her—but she doesn’t say anything more. Sometimes he is impulsive in his affections, her king, like when he leaves flowers on her vanity, or when he asks her favorites in the middle of a conversation. It’s endearing, the way he flits from thing to thing, and always with that boyish grin when she surprises him—

Suddenly he presses her hand very hard. When she looks up at him, his face is pale. “Your majesty, what is it?” she asks.

He smiles, but it’s clearly painful. “Genny,” he whispers, and then he’s falling against her, almost collapsing but his boots are scuffing the floor, trying to find his footing. She struggles to hold his weight up, wraps her arms around him like a desperate lover’s embrace.

“Your majesty? Your majesty,” she says urgently. “Arthur, what’s wrong? Are you going to faint?”

He huffs a laugh against her hair, reaching outwards—for the wall, she realizes, and tries to guide him so he can lean against the stone instead of her poor support. “I must confess,” he says, voice weak, “I do feel a little lightheaded.”

“Well, sit down,” she demands, masking imperiousness over her panic. “I’ve—I’ve heard it’s good to put your head between your legs. It’ll get the blood flowing to your head.”

He slides down the wall, still grasping her hand tightly, and she does her best to help him settle, sitting down beside him. After a moment he takes a deep breath and raises his head to look at her. “Well,” he says, “I don’t suppose I’m going to the Table this morning.”

She wants to scoff at him, but he looks so miserable, even smiling. “You’re quite flushed,” she notes, reaching for his face; and then, feeling it, “Oh, Arthur, you’re burning up.”

“Not literally, I hope,” he says, “because I feel quite cold.”

“Arthur,” she says. “Stop making jokes.”

“Do you know, this is the most you’ve called me by my name instead of your majesty?”—and there is a tease in his voice but his eyes, though fever-touched, are soft.

Footsteps round the hall, and Guenevere turns away. “Oh, Sir Kay,” she says with some relief, as the knight stops and looks at his sovereigns sitting against the wall. “The king is ill. Would you please help him back to his rooms?”

“Certainly, your majesty,” Kay intones. Arthur groans as the knight hauls him off the floor. “Not sure I was up for standing yet, Kay,” he manages, and Kay slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Please rest, your majesty,” Guenevere says.

He smiles; he’s always smiling. “Go to the meeting, Genny,” he says. “You know all the policy. Go change the world—since I’m not fit to do it today.”

“Make sure he actually lies down,” she tells Kay. Kay, already looking beleaguered—perhaps familiar with the king’s flightiness—nods.

She watches them for a moment, then shakes herself. Nothing to do but go to the meeting alone.

--

It’s a few hours into the meeting and she’s half-heartedly listening to Lionel and Sagramore argue for the twentieth time that morning when Sir Kay slips into the room. She meets his eyes with a smile, expecting him to take his seat at the Table, but instead he makes his way behind her to speak in her ear.

“Your majesty,” he says quietly.

“Sir Kay,” she murmurs, trying to keep her eye on Lionel as he gesticulates wildly. “How is the king?”

“He’s asked for you,” Kay says. “Repeatedly.”

She looks at him, astonished, but keeps her voice low. “For me? Whatever for?”

Kay looks uncomfortable. “He’s very insistent, milady. He sounded…”

Now the panic is beginning to creep up her chest again. “He sounded what?”

“Very desperate,” he says. “Ma’am.”

For a moment she’s frozen, hearing Sagramore’s reply but not comprehending any of the words. She has to make a choice.

“Excuse me,” she interrupts. Twelve heads swivel in her direction, and she clasps her hands in her lap as a way to keep hold of her composure. “Thank you, gentlemen. Something urgent has come up that I must attend to.”

“Is everything all right, your majesty?” Dinadan pipes up.

Her first instinct is to lie, but she knows that if the king’s illness is actually serious, she’ll have to tell them eventually. “I hope so, Dinadan,” she says carefully. She sweeps her gaze around the Table. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow at the same time.”

If the king is better, she doesn’t say. She can see curiosity, doubt, maybe even hostility on some of the knights’ faces—Lionel looks particularly suspicious—but she turns her back on them and leaves the room.

Kay catches up with her in the hall. “Ma’am.”

Annoyance rears its head; she had been relieved to be able to show her true feelings on her face walking alone. “Yes, Kay, what is it?”

“I was just going to escort you, your majesty,” he says, undeterred by the irritation in her voice. He pauses. “And to tell you—you did well in there.”

She glances up at him. He sounds genuine. And, now that his small kindness is extinguishing her frustration, she can admit that she likes him. There’s a steadiness about him, a quiet security that isn’t threatened by ego, so unlike the other knights. She remembers suddenly that Kay is Arthur’s cousin, the same that led Arthur to pull the sword in an attempt to find a blade for a trivial tournament. He does not seem jealous of Arthur’s position; he does what his king asks, without complaint. And now, somehow knowing that she feels inadequate in this crisis, he compliments her. What a strange man.

“Thank you,” she says, a bit awkwardly. They walk in silence for a few moments. “You must love him very much,” she says finally, as they round a corner.

The twist of a smile. “Oh, he makes me want to throttle him sometimes, your majesty,” he says. “But. Yes. I do.”

“I haven’t known him for nearly as long,” she says, fighting her own smile, “but I feel much the same way.”

She’d meant the throttling, but he looks at her for a long moment. Whatever he sees in her face, he nods at. “I’m sure you do, ma’am,” he says quietly.

--

Kay doesn’t tell her anything more about the king’s condition, just leads her to the door of the king’s room and leaves with a bow. She has to shake off the sudden apprehension she feels standing in front of the door, alone. Arthur’s voice is coming faintly through the wood, and that must be a good sign. If he was silent, she reasons, pulling the handle, then she would know something was wrong. Perhaps her fears had been misplaced. Maybe he thought of an idea and simply had to share it with her. She will feel foolish for ending the meeting early, but there are worse things than feeling foolish.

She can see the king chattering at the physician as she approaches the bed. “—just lie still, your majesty,” the physician is saying, sounding haggard, but he turns at her approach. “Ah, my queen,” he greets, bowing hastily. “I’ll leave you—I must get a few things from my apothecary—”

He bustles out of the room before she can ask about the king’s condition.

“Your majesty,” she says, turning to the bed, perching on the chair the physician had left behind. The king in nightclothes now, covered up to his waist by a thick quilt, but he doesn’t look much better than he had in the hallway—pale except for the color high in his cheeks, hair a little mussed. And, she notes, looking closer, not entirely present. He’s quiet now, not looking at her, focused on something in the distance. It’s a familiar expression—when he is really deep in thought, he’ll adopt the same look, standing still in the middle of a room—made chilling by the glassiness of his eyes.

“Your majesty,” she repeats, concerned, “you were asking for me?”—and now he seems to hear her, because his head twitches and his eyes settle on her face.

“Oh, Genny!” he cries. “Merlyn was telling me we’d lost the war in France, but I told him I’d show you to him and prove him wrong. See, Merlyn”—and he’s looking away.

“Your majesty,” she says carefully, “there’s no one here but us.”

He looks at her, blinks dazedly, and there, he seems to see her again. “You are really here, aren’t you?” he murmurs, soft, unsure, raising a hand slowly as if to touch her. “You’re not something I dreamed up?”

Oh, and what if he’s gone mad? What if the fever has taken his brain and she’s left to rule this stoic, cultureless country alone? She tries to take a deep breath. Fevers give terrible dreams sometimes, she reminds herself, and maybe this is something like that. “No, your majesty,” she answers him.

“We really did win the war in France?” His breath is shallower than usual. “Sometimes I thought we’d be fighting forever, you know, just hacking away at the country until it was a bloody piece of meat. I’m not very good with a spear but I can use a sword alright. I don’t know how many people I killed. I don’t ever want to know.”

She is stunned at how forlorn he sounds. “You won the war,” she whispers. “You won me.”

“And then we traded one kind of death for another,” he continues hopelessly, “except it was your death, because we took your choice from you. I can’t begin to apologize for that, I can’t—”

The physician returns then, shattering the moment, and she’s too much in shock still to do much of anything but get out of his way.

“Your majesty, you must rest,” he chides the king. “Here, take this, it will help you to sleep—”

He helps Arthur drink the foul-looking draught he’s brought from the apothecary. It must taste as bad as it looks, for Arthur makes a face. “Merlyn,” he mumbles.

“Rest, milord,” the physician intones, gathering up his empty bottles on the nightstand. Guenevere watches as Arthur shuts his eyes. His brow smooths over. In moments, he’s asleep, vulnerable as a child.

“Is it—” she whispers, and the physician seems to realize she’s still in the room. At his probing look she clears her throat softly. “Is it a—dangerous sickness?”

The physician—she finally remembers his name is Gaius—sighs. “It might not be,” he admits. “It’s the season for fever, milady. Several of the knights have had some form of it in the last few weeks.”

“But?”

“But,” he continues, looking more grave, “it is a higher fever than I’ve seen recently. You’ve seen his moments of delirium. If it doesn’t pass in the next day or so—”

She has no thought for her expression, too caught in the tempest of worry building in her chest, but he must see something in her face because he stops and smiles, grandfatherly. “I’m getting ahead of myself,” he says.

“His dreams,” she says woodenly, meaning to ask a question, not remembering what she had wanted to say. The physician nods as though she had made perfect sense.

“The king has had vivid dreams just about as long as I’ve known him, your majesty. The fever seems to make them more palpable. It’s not a particularly bad sign.”

She swallows, trying not to think about Arthur’s pained expression. “What can be done?”

Gaius gathers up his medicine kit. “Watch and pray, milady,” he says. “I’ll send word if the king is better tomorrow.”

#hello everyone it is sad hours #i'm back with only part of a fic (hoping that this will motivate me to finish the second part) #andrew burnap's wet kitten eyes gave me an ideas for a sickfic waaaaayy back when. #the whole dynamic here is arthur just wanting to go about his day as normal even though he feels awful and guenevere being like: #PLEASE take care of yourself (because i love you) #but y'know. duty honor appearances etc. etc. etc. #no proofread we die like men #(simply because i wanted to get this out tonight) #no title for this one because uhhhh i couldn't think of one #(not exactly a good lyric for this topic) #please enjoy #camelot musical #camelot revival

[song-of-the-rune]

Two competing thought processes that I both really appreciate from my favorite media are FFXIV's themes of making hope where it doesn't seem there is any to be found vs Raistlin's "remove the carrot and walk forward with our eyes open" dialogue. I still really love Raist as an antihero. he straight up becomes evil to destroy evil and despite how far he comes he doesn't find it in himself to give up his last shred of humanity. He completely rejects hope, and narratively it helps highlight the hope of everyone around him, but I think despite being opposite the narrative of "hope triumphs all" it is very in-line with "hope is a choice" and "use hope to effect positive change." In-context, Raistlin is rejecting blind faith in hope to be a miracle drug that pulls everyone through. He's saying "forget the hope we are handed, forget the things we could hope will happen, we will forge our own path forward." He has a definition of hope that i think is in line with the definition I had back when i was about the right age for dragonlance, but not now that i have a good bit more life experience. I think, really, FFXIV's notion of hope as something we must forge for ourselves and for others in order to keep ourselves fighting -- that's what I see hope as now. It's a fine line between hope and ambition. I don't think good ol' Raist would quite align with that notion, it's a bit noble for his taste, but I think he'd be able to tolerate it -- and I think it's why he tolerates "hope" in his companions as much as he does.

#raistlin majere #books! #dragonlance #runic ramblings #no proofread we die like men #by which i mean: bedtime #ff #ff:xiv

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — 11:36 AM OR when you’re needy and he’s ready to help you. doesn’t mean he won’t have some of his own fun while doing it. (birthday special)

࿄ ! warnings - major nsfw. squirting. f!reader. kind of dubcon but not really. / note. hey… how y’all doing! i have no excuses this time lol. i also can’t promise i will be back! i couldn’t let this brew in my drafts forever, esp. on his birthday. but enjoy :} minors& blank blogs dni.

you: hey kats i miss you :(

you: katsuki? i need you

you sent those texts at around 11:36 am and it’s now almost an hour later, with katsuki being in a very important heroes’ meeting of some sort. now, katsuki never takes time or leave off of work only on the condition he’s practically spilling his guts onto the floor - and even so, he’d come in with his hands wrapped round his lower abdomen if he wasn’t chastised for showing up half dead.

this wasn’t out of the ordinary for you - you know, to text him all needy and sad. don’t get it all wrong, it makes katsuki’s heart clench to have to leave you to your lonesome when he’s busy and you’re not. he knows how you get when you get off your period and mixed when you’re also feeling poorly comes a combination of you feeling melancholic, sweet and also very needy. by the way, did he mention needy yet?

katsuki: what’s up with you? you ok?

his phone vibrates almost as fast as he tried to stuff it in his pocket and he inconspicuously looks down.

you: no… i need you :((

katsuki sighs looking at your texts, excusing himself from the meeting and giving what he’d consider sympathetic eyes to his friends before dialling up your number.

“you okay, princess?” katsuki frowns, “i know you ‘aven’t been feeling well these past few days but ‘m busy-”

“katsukiii,” you all but whine into the phone, mewling and he straightens up immediately at your voice, ears turning a cute shade of pink. oh. he knows this tone. he knows it all too well amongst the linen sheets of his bed.

“i know i shouldn’t be calling while you’re busy but, fuck, i need you, need you so much,” you gasp on the other side of the line, practically swimming in his bed, wearing only your cotton panties and a barely there tank top.

katsuki bites his fist, standing behind the conference room door, groaning quietly. “yeah?”

“mhmmm, i really do,” you simper, “you looked really good this morning an-and you smelt so good and… ‘m just really, really needy right now.”

katsuki should tell you to get a grip, dash some cold water on your face and put your fingers to good use but the way you’re moaning and whining across the phone is making all his blood cells rush from the rational parts of his body down to the irrational parts of his body.

“where r’you right now?”

“in your bed… just like how you left me,” you sigh, a pathetic and wanton lilt to your words. “all alone in this big and cold bed wishing my big, strong man would come home and give me what i deserve.”

your flushed face boyfriend all but snarls, teeth bared over the phone. “yeah? what d’you deserve, then, for interrupting me at work and and then begging me to come home and fuck you? cos that’s what you want, right? for me t’drop everythin’ and come running to you?”

“yup,” you hum, popping the ‘p’ and some rustling can be heard in the background. “well, ‘s your choice, really. i just… really need you, baby.”

you can hear katsuki’s deep breathing over the phone and you’re so certain you can hear the cogs in his skull turning, clicking as he mulls over this decision. he clears his throat, lamenting with a big sigh as if this is all one big inconvenience for him.

just at that moment, deku comes through the door.

“everything okay, kacch- dynamight? if you’re busy we can discuss this with you another time.”

“…‘m gonna have to head home for a little while… something’s come up. don’ wait up. i’ll be back as quick as i can.”

katsuki wants to bite you when he can make out the smile over your exhale through the receiver but you’re quick to hang up as deku reassures his friend in his naïveté, unknowing to the true purpose of his mid day return home.

when katsuki returns within 10 minutes since your call (usually it’s a 16 minute drive from the agency to home - pedal to the metal), you’re already on the couch, and your tank top does nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples and katsuki can see the shape of your cunt lips through your barely there panties.

no words are passed as you smile sweetly at your boyfriend, who kicks off his shoes and whose hands already at his belt as he stalks over to your seated body.

“how d’ya want it, huh?” you’re already moving back across the couch, legs spread.

“just fuck me please,” you whimper, “wan’ you to stretch me out with your cock.” you paw at his hips, at the waistline of his trousers that situate themselves in front of your face.

“you don’ want me to stretch you out first?” he muses, dropping down to his knees in front of your scantily clad pussy, thick fingers pressing on your covered clit and you hum, shaking your head.

“i can take it right now,” you gasp, and two fingers slip into your pants despite your protests at how you “don’t need to be prepped,” and that you “can take him right now.” alas, you shut up effective immediately when his fingers skim through your panties and straight to rubbing your hardened nub and you can’t find it in yourself to get annoyed when two digits slip inside you, curling up only for a mere second and jolting your body along with it.

katsuki pulls his dampened fingers out, effectively taking off your panties with him. “your decision. don’t get pissy with me later when it’s sore, because ‘m not gonna have it.”

you shake your head defiantly, utterances of “i won’t” and “just please fuck me,” meshing into a slurry of words.

he grabs your face to look at you. “you promise?”

you nod and he frowns, smushing your cheeks slightly. “you better speak up and fast, because i ain’t got all day, princess.”

“i promish! i promishh.” the words come out muffled against the grip of his hand. your boyfriend takes the answer anyhow, because he gets up from off his knees to impatiently throw off his blazer, then down his trousers and pants in one swoop.

there’s a smug look on your face and katsuki can tell you’re trying to hide a triumphant smile. he wants to wipe it off your face so badly.

“face down, ass up, pretty lady.”

you throw yourself around without a second to spare and katsuki stuffs a pillow under your hips, slapping your ass in the process. at any other time, you would’ve scolded him for leaving a print. instead you moan and arch your back, clenching cunt on display for his hungry eyes.

“fucking minx,” katsuki grumbles, settling behind you and letting the weight of his mostly hard cock tap against your pussy, delving between your puffy lips and rubbing against your hardened clit.

you try to be good, try not to say anything that might make him want to punish you but you’re growing restless at what feels like hours of torture (hours being mere seconds that is) and you sniffle out a weak “katsuki, please…”

his heart clenches at your tone and even when he’s trying to tease you, he can’t help but feed out the palm of your hand. he also can’t help that his dick pulsates in his grip at the pathetic tone of your voice.

“don’t rush me or i’ll leave you like this,” he grumbles, and you both know he wouldn’t dare, and you’re about to protest, turn your head to spit defiantly at him but it’s much too late for that. he sinks in, weighty and thick and it knocks the breath out of you. you practically face plant into the armrest of the couch and your teeth bites into the cashmere fabric.

there’s something about not being prepped before that makes this so much more intimate and sexy for the both of you, but the impending realisation that you will be sore tomorrow dawns on you as you feel the heft of his balls press on you. he’s right to the hilt and you’re full to the brim, gasping.

neither of you can get a word out edgeways or sideways - katsuki leans down to wrap a thick arm around your neck and though he can barely see your face, he can feel the salty tears dribbling down his forearm and he can most definitely hear the wordless cries coming from out your agape mouth.

“this is what you wanted,” he hisses, nose in your hair, his wide body trapping you to the couch, “don’t you fuckin’ complain later- fuckin’, shittt,” he groans, pulling back out slightly and getting sucked in by your silken walls. the living room has gotten 100 degrees hotter and he wants to blame you so badly, but you moan out his name wantonly, one hand around his own that’s slightly bruising against your neck and he’s putty.

“hurts so good,” you finally get out, toes curling when the tip of his cock hits against that honeyed spot. “jus’- jus’ like that,” you slur, legs shaking and thrashing when you feel katsuki’s hand slip between your bodies.

all he can focus on is how fast you got sloppy for him, the conjoining of your bodies, if only fleeting, is getting to him, if the clench of his balls has anything to say about it. his hand finds your throbbing pearl and a straying pointer fingers rubs on it firmly in broad, confident circles, and you choke, eyes crossing.

your body stiffens and you’re not even sure you’re speaking a coherent language at this point, but you garble out something along the lines of “i love you,” and “i can’t take it,” and a contradicting “like that, katsuki.”

behind you, he’s thrusting even harder and rubbing faster at your clit, pressing down with ferocity and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore, the tension in your bladder rising. even in the midst of a second, impending orgasm do you turn and try to kiss him, which he gladly accepts, tongue delving into your mouth and he inevitably hunches, grunting and huffing, red faced and shooting ropes of thick cum inside of you.

that’s when your second one hits, and it’s even heavier than the last, sprays of liquid hitting your boyfriend’s lower abdomen and you squeal, hips gyrating and katsuki doesn’t slow until you’re basically limp, collapsed against the softness of his sofa.

he kisses your head, pulling out and you gasp at the exit. no words are shared as he brandishes a damp cloth from somewhere - he must’ve gotten up in your daze, you didn’t even know he had left from behind you at all, and it makes you sigh, cheeks resting against the armrest.

katsuki cleans you up in typical, sweetheart fashion, passing you a blanket and your clothes like he always does after a romp, and it’s only when he makes you sit up so you can eat a banana and drink a glass of cold, fresh water do you say something.

“so i take that you’re not going back into work?”

katsuki’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and he looks away from you, pouting. you think he’s not going to say anything till he scoffs a short moment later, “…’s not like i had much to do today anyway… i’ll catch up with those idiots later.”

you don’t bite back your smile this time and he pulls you into his chest. “you better wipe that shit eating grin off ya face.”

“or what? you threatening me with a good time?” you giggle, wiggling your brows and he opens his mouth to bark back until you move your hips slightly and hiss.

“what was that?” he questions and you ignore him. he groans, swiping a hand across his face,“…y/n, i-”

“‘m not complaining!… but i would be lying if i said it’s not a little sore- hey!”

katsuki wraps you up in his arms, blanket strewn.

“what are you-”

“since ‘m taking the rest of the day off, might as well go clean up and have a bath… remind me to never listen to you again.”

“hey! it’s not my fault you’re such a brute,” you laugh as he kisses your face, walking up the stairs.

“not so hard!” you hiss in pain, “‘m sore!”

yeah. remind katsuki to never listen to you when you’re horny.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © MOOMINSUKI 2024. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki. #✎𓂃uma thirsts。°˖⌕ #✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕ #bakugo smut #bakugou imagine #not proofread no beta we die like MEN #ok byeeeee

[pupkashi]

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

#he’s so my boyfriend #i would listen to him for hours on end <3 #f1 mention happy race day ‼️ #u can’t convince me he wouldn’t be in love w charles #not proofread we die like men #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen Drabble #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo Drabble #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader fluff

[almond-tofuuu]

Do it for me...

Zayne x fem! Reader smut

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, porn without plot (this is pure smutty goodness), PiV sex, nipple play, cervix fucking, soft dom! Zayne, consensual sex (bc asking for consent is hot af), cunnilingus, tongue fucking, fingering, squirting, creampie, raw sex (wrap it up ppl), sex on a desk, Zayne's fat cock (bc that shi needs its own warning label)

Lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 2.9k (I am so sorry)

Thinking about Zayne

His pupils blown wide with lust, chest heaving with every breath he takes, icy hand gently but firmly holding your chin in place, forcing you to maintain eye contact as his other hand explores your body. Cold fingers gliding so softly over your exposed collar bones, making your skin tingle and goose bumps forming in the wake of his fingertips. His eyes locked on yours as his hand travels lower, following the valley between your breasts, stopping just under the curve of your left breast, fingers toying with the lace of your bra.

"May I?" His voice is low and husky, breath fanning over your cheek as he leans closer, searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You nod your head, desperate to feel his cold hands on your bare skin again, but he doesn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly as a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest.

"That's not how this works, darling, if you want something you're going to have to tell me" he leans in closer, lips ghosting over yours, teasing you but not giving you what you want "Go on, use your words, I'll give you whatever you want, just be a good girl and tell me what you need."

His words, so full of promise and dripping with desire spark a fire within you, a heat that radiates down to your core. Swallowing down the last of your anxiety, your eyes meet his own, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to stumble over your words.

"Please Zayne....I need you... need you to touch me...need to feel you, please-"

Your pleading is cut off by Zayne's mouth as he captures yours in a searing kiss, his hand that was previously holding your chin now tangling into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer as his lips devour yours. His tongue darts out to lick at your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance which you willingly grant, allowing him to explore your mouth. At the same time his other hand has made quick work of removing your bra, now kneading your left breast in his large hand, cold fingers pinching and rolling your nipple until it hardens before moving onto your right breast to give it the same attention. Reaching up you grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to ground yourself, fingers burying themselves into the fabric of his doctors coat, tugging at it slightly. Zayne pulls away for a moment, chuckling at the adorable neediness of the gesture.

"What's the matter? Do you not like my coat anymore?" You know by the small smirk on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes that he's teasing you, know that he wants you to tell him exactly what it is you want.

"Want you to take it off, 's not fair that I'm sat here shirtless and you're still fully clothed" you mumble with a small pout on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Hmm You're right, allow me to correct my error" Zayne's eyes remain focused on yours as he shrugs his doctors coat off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor of his office with a soft thump. However, you're still not satisfied, wanting to see more of him, so you grab onto his tie, pulling him closer to you so you can get to work on removing his shirt. Zayne is quick to stop you, large hands engulfing yours, halting their movement as he leans down to peer into your face.

"If your hands keep being mischievous, I can show you how surgeons tie knots" although his tone isn't harsh, there's a quiet dominance to his words, almost like he's challenging you to keep going. And you're not one to back down from a challenge, so you tug on his tie again, bringing his face closer to yours, trailing soft kisses along his jaw before you whisper seductively into his ear,

"Is that a promise, Doctor Zayne?"

Before you can even react Zayne has you laid on your back on his desk, one strong hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other loosening his tie further as his imposing form towers over you.

"It would seem that someone can't control their hands, perhaps I should teach you a lesson, maybe then you'll be more obedient" as he speaks Zayne takes his tie and uses it to restrain your hands, his movements quick and precise, being careful not to tie the knot too tight but enough to limit your movement.

"That's much better, now be a good girl for me and stay still" satisfied with his work Zayne leans in to capture your lips in a quick and passionate kiss before moving onto your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive skin there, spurred on by the soft moans spilling from you. He then moves lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your collar bones and between your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue around one of your hardened nipples before taking it in his mouth, his free hand coming up to tease the other. He repeats his movements on your other breast, not wanting to neglect it and relishing the way you whine and how your back arches up into him. Once he's done toying with your nipples, Zayne resumes his path downwards, lips and tongue leaving behind a wet trail on your stomach as he stops at the waistband of your jeans.

"Can I remove these as well, love?" He looks up at you, waiting for your permission, needing to hear that you want this.

"Yes, please Zayne, need you" this time you're quick to respond, your body feeling hot as the tension builds in your core becomes nearly unbearable, needing to feel some kind of relief.

Zayne gives you an approving smile, obviously pleased with your response, his hands moving to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them and removing both your jeans and panties in one go. Seeing you completely bare beneath him, your soaked cunt on full display, Zayne let's out a deep groan, whispering a soft "fuck" under his breath as he takes in the sight of you. The feeling of his piercing eyes on your exposed pussy is too much for you and you close your legs subconsciously, trying to shy away from him. But Zayne simply grips onto your thighs, prying them apart and slotting his hips in-between them.

"Don't hide away from me, love, you're beautiful, each and every part of you is perfect." His voice is soft and full of adoration, letting you know he means every word, that he truly thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met. And you do believe him, because the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you makes you feel so special. His hands give a light squeeze on your thighs, holding them in place as he lowers his head to plant soft kisses along the sensitive skin on the inside of your right thigh, nibbling every so often, inching closer and closer to where you need him most before switching over to your other thigh, giving it the same treatment. You buck your hips up, a desperate whine leaving you as you plead with him, "please stop teasing...wanna feel you... Can't take it anymore"

Zayne let's out a breathy chuckle, his warm breath fanning over your weeping cunt, "very well, you've been a good girl so far, I suppose you do deserve a reward"

And with that Zayne dives into your glistening pussy, tongue licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking it, repeating the motion several times as you writhe in pleasure beneath him. One of his strong hands moves to firmly hold down your hips, the other begins to play with your clit as his tongue delves inside your dripping hole.

"You taste so sweet, I may have just found my new favourite desert" he lets out a low moan of satisfaction that vibrates against your pussy, his mouth latching onto you again as he drives his tongue further inside you, lapping up all the juices leaking out of you. The feeling of his fingers on your clit and his tongue inside you has your thighs quivering and locking around his head, back arching off his desk as moans fall freely from your lips. Your hands, still bound together by his tie, reach down and tangle themselves in his hair, tugging slightly causing Zayne to groan into your cunt. He eats you out like a man starved, drinking down every drop of the juices flowing from inside you, his nose bumping against your clit adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Your orgasm is rapidly approaching when you feel Zayne's tongue leaving your pussy only to be replaced by two of his long, slender fingers, he slides them inside you easily, making a scissoring motion as his mouth latches onto your clit.

"Zayne... gon- ngh! Gonna cum!" You manage to stutter out between moans, your cunt clenching tighter around his fingers that continue to pump in and out of you, his pace increasing as he curls them to hit the spot deep inside your cunt that has you seeing stars.

"Go ahead, love, cum for me" he mumbles his encouragement into your cunt, the added vibrations sending you over the edge as your orgasm hits you full force, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as you soak his hand and the lower part of his face. Zayne works you through your high, not stopping his movements until you push his head away, the over sensitivity becoming too much. You lie there catching your breath, looking down shyly you meet Zayne's gaze as he rises from between your legs, and he looks like pure sin. His eyes have darkened with lust, the bottom half of his face glistening with your juices, a smirk rests on his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. It's the most erotic sight you've ever witnessed, and it has your cunt throbbing in anticipation.

"Do you wish to continue, love? I need you to tell me now if you've had enough, because once I start I'm not going to stop until I've ruined you for every other man" his voice is steady but there's a hint of tension behind his words, as if he's fighting hard to maintain control of himself, trying to keep his ever stoic demeanor intact. In a sudden burst of courage, you reach down and palm his painfully hard cock as it strains against the front of his dress pants, causing a low moan to resonate from deep in his chest. His hips involuntarily buck into your hand, his eyes fluttering closed as he allows himself indulge in the feeling of your warm hands as they stroke his cock.

"I want this, Zayne, want you" your whisper to him sweetly, hands unbuttoning the front of his pants, pulling down his underwear and freeing his gorgeous cock, letting it slap against his toned abdomen. It's thick and lengthy, pale with a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft, pearly beads of precum leak out from the tip that's a few shades darker then the rest of his cock. You've never thought of using the word 'beautiful' to describe a cock before, but his truly was a sight to behold, enough to make your mouth water and pussy clench around nothing. You shuffle forward in an attempt to get off his desk, ready to sink to your knees and worship him the same way he did you, but Zayne's firm grasp on your chin halts your movement. You blink up at him in confusion, worried that you may have done something wrong, but the lust clouding his eyes and desire dripping like honey from his voice tells you otherwise.

"As much as I'd like to indulge in feeling that pretty mouth of yours, I'm afraid I can't wait that long. I need to take you, now. So be a good girl and lay back down for me"

Licking your lips, you do as you're told, resuming your previous position, the cool surface of his desk pleasant against your flushed skin. Zayne stands between your open legs, one hand resting on your thigh, the other takes hold of his thick length, guiding it through your slick folds, coating his shaft in your wetness, the tip nudging your clit with every slow thrust. Once he's satisfied that his cock is lubed up enough with your juices, Zayne positions himself at the entrance to your cunt, the tip prodding at the tight hole causing a near pathetic whimper of need to fall from your lips.

"Apologies in advance, love, I'll try to be gentle" and with that Zayne slowly enters you, his thick shaft stretching out your tight pussy, the steady, shallow thrusts allowing you to feel every delicious inch as he works you open until he's buried to the hilt. A shaky exhalation leaves Zayne's lips followed by a quiet "fuck" whispered under his breath, his eyes closed briefly as he revels in the feeling of finally being inside you, feeling your drenched cunt throbbing and clenching so nicely around his cock. He wants to be gentle, wants to take his time with you and keep true to his words.

But Zayne is only a man, and like all men he has a breaking point, and the sight of you laid beneath him, half-lidded eyes locked onto his, mouth hung open as you moaned his name in ecstasy, soaked cunt throbbing so perfectly around his cock was just too much for him. His self control that was hanging by a thread finally snapped, he began pounding his cock into you like a man possessed, driving his length deeper and deeper inside of your sensitive hole, the fat tip hitting your cervix with every rough thrust. Broken moans flow from you, combining with the rhythmic slapping of skin and wet squelching of your pussy, it creates a sinful melody that's practically pornographic, it would be enough to make your cheeks burn if your brain could actually focus on anything other than the delicious drag of Zayne's cock as he ruts into you. Meanwhile, the man above you has lost all composure, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he drives his length into you, his rough thrusts enough to cause the desk below you to scrape across the floor. Somewhere, deep in your fucked-out brain you register the tightening of the coil in your lower stomach, knowing your orgasm is near, you try to warn Zayne, although it's difficult to form any kind of coherent thought with how good he's drilling into you.

"Z-zayne.... Aghh! gonna....mmh...gonna cum!" You manage to whimper out between moans, your eyes closing as you throw your head back, body arching up off the desk as his cock hits the spongey spot deep inside your pussy, causing you to clench even harder around him. Zayne brings one hand up to tilt you face to look at him, his eyes held an almost predatory glint as they locked onto yours.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, love, I want to watch as you fall apart" his words came out breathy and low, a deep groan rumbling up from the back of his throat, his hips never stopping their brutal pace, icy fingers coming up to play with your clit, rubbing figure eights into it as his heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust. It's all too much, all of your senses are overwhelmed by him. His cool fingers on your clit, his piercing eyes boring into yours, his musky scent surrounding you, deep groans and warm breath fanning over your face, and his hard cock moulding your pussy to his shape. Your orgasm is blinding, your body convulsing and cunt spasming erratically around his length, squirting your release all over his toned abdomen as your vision turns white. A high-pitched moan leaving you followed by the chanting of his name, whispered almost like a prayer as he consumed your thoughts. Zayne doesn't stop, his thrusts speeding up as his own is release fast approaching, but he doesn't even realise, too focused on you. Watching intensely as you come undone beneath him, wanting to remember every second, every moan, every facial expression. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's cumming, hips stuttering before burying himself deep inside you, a broken groan of your name falling from his lips, cock pulsing and twitching as he coats your pussy with his thick, creamy seed. He continues to shallowly rock into your spent pussy, feeling how your cunt milks his cock for every last drop of cum.

His strong arms rest on either side of your head, holding him up as he pants heavily, sweat-covered forehead resting against yours as you both bask in the afterglow of your release. Zayne Is the first to move, pulling back slightly he presses a tender kiss to your forehead as he takes in your fucked-out form below his. He can't help but be entranced by how beautiful you look, skin glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath, cheeks flushed as you come down from your high. To him, you look absolutely ethereal, and he can't stop the soft smile that spreads across his face, because finally, after so many years of wanting and waiting, you're his.

#drops this on the dash and runs #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne x reader smut #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #smut #this is pure filth #minors dni #zayne smut #not proofread #we die like men #SoundCloud

[cute-sucker]

note: hands and rafe?? fluff!! this came to mind. i wanna talk about it so bad so y'all are forced to listen to my rambling idc. (might do a nsfw one if y'all want it...i'm sorry)

extra note; this is dedicated to my first anon; the beloved 🪐 anon <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

when rafe's hands are on your waist, dragging you close it means he's possesivally telling everyone who you belong to, and especially when his hand drags down to that small base of your back that you love so much, feeling yourself flush

when rafe hands reach for your, needing that small way to be close to you, you know to move closer to him, knowing that he needed you and that you needed to be there for him.

when rafe hands hold your hand, a calloused large hand weaved with your tiny one you can almost feel the shyness in the gesture, the vulnerability he's offering you, that softness that you could only get from him

when rafe's hands wrap around your shoulder, he's drunk and laughing at stupid joke as you give him a cheesy smile. you only need a squeeze on the shoulder to know he's completly yours, as his eyes are that dazzling steel blue you know too well

when rafe's hands drums on your thigh, you look up to him looking concentrated on whatever he's doing. he needs to keep his hand there, not caring about the prying looking that the guys give him, or the viciously annoyed looks girls toss your way. he just needs to close to you

when rafe's hands brushes your hair away, a small graze on your forehead, or while braiding your hair, you know he's reminding something. there is something about hair that drag him back to his youth, you think, because he gets teary eyed almost.

when rafe's hand grab at your elbow you know he's pissed with his rough touch. your elbow is some place that he drag you to turn around. usually it means you will be taked to in a demeaning way, snark clear in his tone, yet that soothing touch on your elbow tells you another story

when rafe's hands fiddles with your fingers, you know he needs something to drag him back to reality, that soft distracted of touch of his makes you hide your smile; something that he'll snap, 'what,' when he notices you looking at him in that shy way

when rafe's hand cups your jaw, it could be two things. it means he needs to look at his eyes to ground himself and know that you're still here with your wide doe eyes, and a clear look on his face, or it means he wants to see the look on your face when he teases you, a clear flush spreading across your face as he drags your face up to kiss you

when rafe's hand lingers on your wrist, it means he's checking your heartbeat to make sure nothing has scared you. sometimes you jump up, and his hand quickly travels to that delicate part of your body to check your heartbeat. you always find yourself feeling so grateful that he cares about you so much

when rafe's hands reach to wrap around your stomach, where he tucks his head in that hollow of your shoulder, you know that you need to ease him. you need to take care of him if it's by giving him something like a sweet kiss, or whispering a promise that will make him happier

when rafe's hands feel for you at night, a urgency in his touch hoping that he won't make contact with a cold bedsheet, and instead he'll make contact with your warm body which is twisted along his own as if the two of you were melded into one and another

when rafe's hands stretch the waistband of your sweatpants, you can't help but laugh, at how silly he is, how touchy he is. but he's like how poets say, the other half of your soul, and you let him do his silly acts

when rafe's hand grazes your eyes, you know you'll find him leaning over to kiss both of your fluttering eyes, a calm soft touch that will make you sigh. he knows sometimes you need it to calm down, that gentle touch that'll make you feel safe.

when rafe's hands stay reached to your side, you feel more loved than you ever have.

#🪐 anon #rafe outer banks #obx fic #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #fluff #rafe obx #drabble #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #cute rafe cameron #cute #adorable #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron x reader #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #outer banks fanfiction #obx #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb #if rafe doesn't have his hands on mine?? i'm fighting . #not proofread we die like men

[coochiekrab]

Baby faced at the baby convention

#no proofreading we die like men #my art #kuri #aubrey #worlds worst comic

[blindmagdalena]

i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

#homelander x you #homelander x reader #i blacked out and wrote 85% of this yesterday #i desperately wanted to finish it but had plans fghjkl #anyways wow! a brief reprieve from my writers block?? a temporary break in the dam???? #i had so much fun writing this either way #thank you for sending this!! #not proofread we die like men #my writing #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #smut

[truegoist]

LOVE LANGUAGES - quality time warnings;; gn reader. both of u are downbad(🤢🤢) . u kiss also. 1.3k words

RIN ITOSHI isn’t the most affectionate person by nature, the extreme drive for his soccer carrier has left the man stranded the permanent aggravated expression that runs through the itoshi bloodline definitely doesn’t help

in all senses, rin itoshi is not the one you expect to appear at your door, 4 in the morning.

For a couple of minutes you just stare at eachother, him fully dressed and annoyingly awake; you in your pajamas and hardly aware at your presence on earth.

“It’s my birthday” is what he says simply. “Why are you not ready” Perhaps it’s just you, but the tone in his voice seems even more agitated than usual.

“Ready for what rin?” You can see the white fog of your breath as you exhale, you don’t want to be mean to the boy on his birthday but he really is challenging his chances

“You said we’d hang out at four. It’s already four thirty five and you aren’t even ready” His tone is harsh. Accusing. But in those teal eyes that had always resembled glaciers to you now look melted down, you can tell deep down the reason for his bother is different than your so called lack of punctuality.

You can tell he’s afraid you may have forgotten about a plan that meant so much to him. He’s afraid you may not even care about it, or him. He’s terrified to not mean half as much to one person he cares about.

He won’t ever voice it. But somehow you know, or perhaps you hope that this is what he thinks; that he longs for you as much as you do for him.

It’s stupid really, how your heart fluttered at the sight of him in your door or how you can’t even bring yourself to be properly mad at him.

That’s cute and all but that doesn’t change the fact that you planned to sleep a good 2 more hours.

“Rin” you finally speak again “I meant 4 pm why would you think- How long have you even been awake for?”

A small oh leaves the strikers lips as he looks at you, dumbfounded. It appears that normally people don’t arrange meetings before dawn only occurring to him now.

With the new emotion in his face rin quite resembles a stray puppy, so much you suddenly get the urge to coddle him

“Well do you want to come inside? We can eat breakfast or something”

He trails behind you to kitchen, with how long you’ve two been friends rin knows the way as good as his own and it’s him who takes the lead on your small walk towards kitchen.

crack

The egg falls to the pan with a satisfying sound, normally you’d have gone with something easier like cereal but the mr sportsman seated in your kitchen now is determined to force his stupidly healthy diet onto you as much as he can.

Despite all his protests and attempts to help you have him sat near the table as you prepare everything. It’s half because it’s his special day and half because he’s a complete disaster in kitchen(perhaps more the later than first).

While doing so you’ve been rambling on and on about whatever comes to your mind to fill his silence, on small changes in your life, school, a show you liked, the cute cat you saw on the street yesterday… Perhaps with someone else this could feel like a monologue but it’s different with rin; maybe it’s the way how he always looks so concentrated on whatever you say, or the way he always remembers everything you’ve told to the smallest detail. Or maybe it’s just your feelings for him that make this enjoyable for you

Whatever it is, it’s how it goes between you two: you talk, and he listens. Aside from the cynical remarks here and there, talking isn’t his thing. Even if sometimes you wished it was, you wished that for once he’d be the one to talk, be the one to tell the words you never brought yourself to speak to him.

With a tap on your shoulder that caught you off guard, you almost hit the man on the face. And you probably would’ve if he didn’t caught your hand midair.

Maybe it’s because you were too caught upon telling whatever story you were on or maybe it was because the eerily quiet way rin moves for a man his size but you only notice how close he has gotten to you at this moment.

So you can almost feel the warmth emitting of his skin. So close you can hear his breath. And suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the way your very own heartbeat seems to quicken.

Perhaps it’s because it’s so early in the morning, but there’s something just so romantic about this moment; how close you two are, how the newly setting sunshine dances on his face.

You need serious help.

“Sorry did I bore you?” Once again, you’re the one to break the silence. Yes that must be it, he was just bored with you talking all the time. You should stop dreaming.

He blinks a few times, it’s evident he finds even the suggestion of such idea absurd “I enjoy listening to you (name), I thought you knew that” you hate yourself for it but even those simple words gives you such euphoria that it practically overwhelms you. Plus he still hasn’t let go of your wrist.

You have to leave before you do something seriously stupid. Like pour your heart out to rin itoshi

“That reminds me! I got something for your birthday,” You originally planned to give it to him much later, but you’re desperate and you need out “it’s upstairs if you’d let me go I can just run real quick and ge-”

“Don’t want it”

His grasp on your wrist is now much more firm, it contrasts the previous gentleness of his touch towards you. Rin has always treated you with fragility that it’s only now you realize how strong he actually is.

“I told you I don’t want you to buy me anything” his bright, teal eyes look more like a turquoise as the sun hits them, leaving you captivated by them even in this moment “But if you’re that insistent on giving me something then um…”

His newly found confidence starts to die down as he mutters the next bit “if you really want to gift me…you can give me something else” the last part is said in such low whisper that you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to hear it if weren’t for how close you two are right now. Maybe your eyes are playing a game to you right now but you can see red on his cheeks.

You must be dreaming. Or it’s that you aren’t fully awake right now and can’t think clearly, because there’s no way the rin itoshi is saying what you think he is

Fuck it, you’ve waited long enough

Your pull on him is harsher than you intended, your lips practically to crash to each other but neither of you seem to care. His body is warm against yours, and he tastes of mint.

You’re not sure how long have passed, maybe a few minutes, maybe an eternity. Or perhaps it was just a moment, shorter than one blink.

Before you can even process what just happened, you’re hit with another shock; he is smiling

rin itoshi is smiling. not a know it all “I said so”type of smirk. not a forced one.

But one that creeps bigger and bigger as he stares to you, mimicking the way red blossoms to his cheek. Yours probably aren’t much different right now either

At that moment one sentence slips out of your mouth;

“Happy birthday rin”

#lowkey rushed not proofread we die like men here #blue lock #bllk #rin itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi fluff #rin itoshi x y/n #gender neutral reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #bllk x gender neutral reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Excuse me but the idea of MC and Xav sitting on their respective balconies and texting each other The Tea while people watching in their neighborhood is both so silly and so endearing to me.

So let's go on a small adventure, shall we?

Warnings: None.

Just fluff. Pure, unadulterated fluff.

The late morning sun was already warming you through the windows of your tiny apartment before you'd even stepped foot outside. It was finally mid-spring in Linkon, which meant you could enjoy your late breakfast on the patio without having to worry about a stray chill or errant frost dampening your weekly Saturday 'brunch' plans.

Opening the patio door with your granola bar in one hand and phone in the other, you settle into the cushioned bench that overlooked your apartment courtyard and took a deep breath. Sometimes it felt like winter was neverending in Linkon, but you could finally feel the tension of the gripping cold that had settled in your bones start to slowly bleed from you.

After getting comfortable, you finally pulled out your phone, and quickly found your brunch 'date's' contact info, sending him the customary "Get up it's people watching hour" text.

[Hey Xav, you up? I'm already on my balcony?]

It doesn't take long for his reply. This has been your weekly tradition for a few months now. Ever since you had both just so happened to see that kid getting dragged down the street by the monstrous hound, it had become something of a... habit for the two of you to text each other the funny happenings on your street when you were home. Not that either of you were particularly prone to gossip, but the simple domesticity of it was oddly comforting after a long week of getting slogged on by wanderers.

[Yeah I'm up. Give me a sec]

The soft ping of your notification broke the peace, followed shortly by the shuffling of his patio door sliding open from above you. Sure, you could simply call out and greet him, as the acoustics out here are great and the soundproofing is atrocious, but the silence is cozy, and the atmosphere almost feels magical. This is your ritual, after all.

It's a bit like a storybook scene, you think, the two of you sharing a moment in time together yet still separated by some outside force. Maybe it was silly, but the fabricated longing almost made it feel romantic in a way that you're sure your neighbor would find ridiculous.

When you hear his footsteps above you come to a halt, you immediately notice something in particular is missing, however.

[You forgot your coffee Xav. Are you gonna be able to stay awake?]

[How could U tell?]

[I didn't smell any burning 🤭🔥]

He doesn't reply, but you can hear the huff he makes over the railing as his footsteps retreat, fading behind the sliding door once again. You don't even try to hold back the laughter his reaction elicits from you, hopeful the concrete carries it to him easily.

When he finally does reemerge, faint smell of bitter charred beans on the wind, his phone is already buzzing with the morning's newest additions to your people watching portfolios.

An older man you'd long ago dubbed "Green Thumb" who liked to frequent the flower garden outside your apartment complex was already taking photos of the new stargazer lily blossoms that had just opened this morning. So enamored by the vibrant petals, he didn't even seem to notice the couple he'd backed into who'd happened to spill their groceries all over the sidewalk. You heard Xavier call "Watch out!" From above you when he'd recognized the impending impact, but at your distance, it was no use.

[That was nice of you Xav. Too bad it didn't help 🫠]

[I can't believe they didn't see Green Thumb. He was so hard to miss. Even when Ur distracted U still see better]

[HEY! I'm not the one who sleep walks! 💀]

[And yet I'm always there to guard Ur back partner]

He's right of course, though you're not going to tell him. Xavier likes to play the part of a soft and harmless little thing, but it doesn't take much to stoke the hunter into burning hotter than you intended. His evol might be light, but you know better than anyone that light, under careful concentration, can start a blazing fire if you're not mindful. His teasing isn't ever harmful though, so instead you decide to simply poke the bear.

[Only because I'm starting to suspect you like it back there]

The distinct sound of a phone accidentally hitting the concrete marks the end of that thread.

Its not long before another of your regulars, pair of young kids Xavier had called the Trouble Twins arrived on scene. Aptly named for the number of times their poor mother has chastised them for chasing the ducks and picking the flowers, the siblings were quite the rambunctious duo. Today they seem to be a few steps ahead of their vigilant mother, rushing into the park with high-pitched hollers and improvised swords made of small branches they'd found. Today's unfortunate conquest seemed to be the pigeons that were being fed by the local grannies.

[They look like a pair of knights today don't they?]

[Knights? Don't knights usually protect people?]

[Maybe they're protecting us from the pigeons]

[Xavier those old ladies look pretty mad idk. That one even tried to chase the boy and almost caught him!]

The pause in messages was punctuated by his soft laughter above you, carried on the spring breeze. It was so warm, so genuine, so comfortable. You didn't need a mirror to feel the heat bloom in your cheeks; the overwhelming sensation of ardor flooding you at the the very sound.

[You're right. He needs more training. A good Knight should never be caught by an old lady]

[.... I don't think that's the message here Xav]

The rest of your morning goes back and forth like this for another hour. Watching your favorite people pass by, concocting new and interesting stories for them as they pass your balconies. Xavier has very interesting and oddly insightful opinions on those around him, considering you don't really recall seeing him with many friends. None the less, his company and companionship on your balconies has easily become your favorite part of the week. The only noises between you are the laughter that passes back and forth as the texts volley from one to another.

Finally, as the afternoon sun starts to become an uncomfortable heat, your phone chimes once more.

[I'm getting kind of hungry]

[Oh good. You're warning me this time. Thanks!]

[What?]

[No. I was going to ask if U wanted to go to lunch. With me, I mean?]

And just like that, the storybook was snapping shut. No longer a fragment lost in time where two people gazed at the same scene together from two separate places, but a tangible moment you could step into. Something intimate and real.

Perhaps you stayed in this thought a moment too long, or your silence below him made him second guess himself, as the chime of your phone snapped you out of your daze again.

[I didn't mean to impose if U have plans]

[I know it's Ur day off too]

Fumbling with the suddenly slippery device, softly cursing, and praying he didn't hear, you quickly hammer out the only thing that's been playing in your head on repeat-

[Yes absolutely! I'd love to grab some lunch I'm starving]

[Meet me downstairs in 30?]

#look i had 3 hours of sleep and i chose to this idk why #written in a single go like a psychopath #and now im going to bed gnight ♡ #lnds #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love & deepspace #xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier lnds #xavvy baby #kay writes #this text was just too cute I had too i was over come with emotions #god why is Xavier so adorable ugh #so soft boy sometimes i love himb #also- #not proofread we die like men #sorry im Le~ tired ill edit tomorrow

[ciwzing]

the first time you suggest kei to wear contact lenses instead of glasses was when a volleyball ball had accidentally landed on his face hard, leaving an indent of his glasses around his eyes and a cruel bruise on his left eye that made him sat on benched for a few match.

Though he refused with a furrowed brows, and a little shake of his head saying "I doubt an accident like that would happen again." and that's that.

the second time was when he whined and complained about the sunlight and why he can't wear sunglasses since he won't be able to see shit anyways, you had said first "why not just have those transition lenses" you heard him scoff and see him rolling his eyes by your words.

"it's impractical and cost more" he retorted back, you look at him dumbfounded, he say it's expensive but doesn't blink an eye to spend money if it's buying you things. "then wear contacts instead" you said to him, you could only hear grumbles under his breath and words of refusal.

you sighed and asked him why he was so disagreement of wearing contacts, he only stayed silent not answering your question, he didn't want to admit that the thought of something like contacts touching his eyes scares him, he cringes at the thought of putting contacts and touching his eyes to get it out. Besides that it takes a lot more effort to put on than glasses,

the third time was a finally the time you had successfully convinced him to put contacts, though you weren't the one who asked but him instead surprisingly.

he had watched you get ready in the morning sitting in front of your mirror, clipping your hair back to put on your contacts. he eyed you in amusement as you successfully put on your contacts on the first try, that's where he got up from your guys bed, still shirtless only wearing loose sweats that's hanging dangerously low on his hips, showing off the band of his boxers.

you watched him through you mirror as he approached you from behind, you greeted him good morning earning you a low hum from him and a raspy morning. bending down to your sitting position to give you a small kiss on your cheek, eyeing both of your reflection in the mirror.

"mind putting contacts on me" with his words, your mouth went agape, looking at him if he was sure and it wasn't his sleepiness just talking. seeing that he was dead serious, you smiled brightly before standing up from your seat and drag him to sit on it instead, opening a drawer to grab another set of contacts. sitting on lap to have a better view of his face.

he grumbled saying you hadn't need of sitting on his lap but his hands that's already resting on your thighs is enough for you to know he doesn't really mind.

"Don't look at me like that, I won't be able to focus and put this on you properly"

"What do you want me to do then? Close my eyes"

"You know what, shut up instead"

Kei concluded that if it means you can sit on his lap everyday to put those stupid contacts on him, he might just wear those instead of his glasses instead.

________________

Bonus!

"Fuck, I wouldn't ever trust you going near my eyes again, I feel like im gonna go blind any second"

"Don't be dramatic, you were moving you eyes so much thats why I had to put it so many times"

"I wanna go back to my glasses.."

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader #tsukishima drabbles #not proofread we die like men!! #gn reader

[snakevsnis]

Dumb-fucking your dear Doctor

Dottore x top. male reader

The second harbinger, the doctor, being known for his knowledge and power but also for the cruel experiments. What a joke. The man before you is none of that anymore, he’s just a needy, dumb whore.

“Pathetic” your voice was harsh, throwing another insult at him and crushing his pride even more, not like there was much left of it at this point. Dottore wanted to snarl at you, to insult you back but he just wasn’t able to think of anything, to dumb at the moment.

“You like that, don’t you? Being reduced to nothing?” A mocking laugh slips out of your throat, which gets you a whine from the harbinger beneath you, “of course you do, why do I even ask. You’re nothing more than some slut begging to get fucked.” Oh how your words hit him but oh how he wants to be degraded by you even more.

Dottores nails dig into the desk, whimpers coming out of his mouth as he was trying to form some words. “o-only for you-“, he manages to croak out, lips tugging into an dumb grin to which you just let out a half-hearted chuckle. Fingers digging harder into his hips.

You just felt so, so good, the way the tip of your cock kisses his prostate in all the right places, making him see stars. His brain can’t focus on anything expect for the pleasure you were making him feel.

Normally the doctor would have turned, whoever would even dare to think about him in such a way, into one of his subjects but you, oh you, he would close an eye this once and all the other times.

Noticing that your dear doctor seems to be in his own little world, you decided to grab his swollen cock. Giving it a squeeze and starting to rub it in the rhythm of your thrust, making him let out a loud moan. His eyes roll to the back of his head once again as he wraps his legs around your waist even tighter, his hole also clenching around you.

“Getting greedy?”, you ask him, but it sounded more of a fact than an actual question, not like he would notice it. Seeing that you won’t get a respond back, you clicking your tongue in annoyance and let go of his dick while pulling out until only your tip is still inside him.

Blinking in confusion, dottore slowly regains some of his mind back, tilting his head up to look and probably snarl at you for stopping, only to slam it right back and arch his back as you enter him once again, even harsher then before. His moans get louder and he starts to drool, as you once again start to fuck him. It doesn’t take long till he comes for the nth time with a loud moan of your name, you joining him shortly after, filling him even more with your warm sperm.

Finally slowing down, you give Dottore the chance to catch his breath, his stomach covered in his cum while some of your own was dripping out of his used, little hole and onto the floor. Letting out a chuckle, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead before leaning your own against his.

After a while, you both manage to catch your breath and you pull out of him, your cock now semi-hard as you help him sit up. The harbinger head hands low, with his gaze on the ground as he sits in silent. “You bastard.”

Seems like he is able think and speak again. Just for how long, until his, all knowing, mouth gets to annoying?

I haven’t written anything for a while, so I hope it’s alright, and please inform me if there are any grammatical mistakes or if you have any tips for writing, it would be very appreciated.

#dom reader #dottore #genshin impact fatui #genshin impact #the doctor #dottore genshin #dumbification #smut #fatui harbingers #whor3 #male reader #gay #homosexual #no proofreading we die like men

[notsofunsenpai]

The two played a tea party for about thirty to forty-five minutes,Charlie let's out a small yawn,rubbing her eyes with her little hands.

Alastor smiles at her,"Awww,is someone sleepy?"

Charlie nods her head,slowly at her dad,"eepy..".

Alastor chuckles,"Alright,come here." He said, picking her up,taking her to the couch,putting a soft ducky blanket onto her as he lays her down. He kisses her head,"Enjoy your rest, darling."he says softly, watching his daughter close her eyes slowly before falling asleep. Before leaving to check up on Luficer,Alastor puts a large pillow next to Charlie so she doesn't accidentally fall off and hurt herself. He finds his lover in the laundry room,putting tons of towels along with his pajamas into the washer,even adding some laundry soap to it.

"I see you had quite the morning with your daughter. " Alastor chuckles,watching Lucifer groan as he presses a button to start the washer.

"Let's just say i had a lot to clean up along with getting toliet water on my jammies. It wasn't an idea, but it makes moments like this memorable. "Lucifer said,smiling.

"Well, maybe it would go smoothly if someone didn't accidentally mistake baby shampoo for adult shampoo like last time . It is literally a different color. The baby shampoo is purple with a tear drop on it, and it says baby on it -" Alastor teased lightly.

"It was one time! I said I'd be more careful from now on!" Lucifer pouts.

"Just glad you didn't get your eyes scratched out." Alastor chuckles,resting a hand on his lover's grabbable waist.

"Heh,i was lucky this time." Lucifer says softly,leaning in to kissing his lover who, in return, kisses back.

The kiss was gentle,and so was Alastor,he would never hurt his other half. No matter how evil people make him out to be,Lucifer was the first one to ever trust him and show him feelings besides fear.

The kiss had him feeling excited?

No,that wasn't the right word.

Giddy?

Maybe,whatever that word was he needed -

No, he wanted more of his lover's affection as he deepened the kiss,bringing his lover closer to him.

Lucifer felt himself become warm all over,his ears were warm along with his cheeks as he was getting devoured by his lover. His pale hands go to Alastor's hair,getting tangled as the kiss gets more heated.

Alastor is grinning,kiss by kiss as his hands are now going up into Lucifer's black shirt he was wearing,hearing him whimper.

"Again. I need to hear that again, Applepie." Alastor demand,feeling like he's going crazy.

"Please.." he weakly added before his ears perk up,hearing some rustling followed by a whine.

"Charlie's awake dear.." Alastor said,mumbling into Lucifer's neck.

Lucifer laughs,"I'll take care of her. Go take a few minutes to cool down Bambi."

"Thank you, dear." The taller male kisses his lover once more

one more time

Okay, one more time

"Baby."

"Right, sorry." Alastor quickly said,wagging his little tail.

"So cute." Lucifer said before kissing his cheek,then goes to his awake daughter.

Lucifer gives his daughter a smile,"Good morning, my little Princess!" He said, picking her up,fixing some of her hair.

"Mamaaa!" She giggles,giving her mama a hug.

Lucifer nearly melts," You're too cute." He hugs her back lovingly,"Do you still wanna play tea party, or do you wanna play something else?" He asked.

"Colwrr!!"

"Coloring! Okay,let me get your crayons and coloring books." Lucifer said, setting his daughter down,getting some of her drawing stuff, then setting them down on the brown table.

Charlie grabs one of the crayons and one of the books. At first, she goes inside the lines, but then she starts squibbling over the page.

Lucifer sat down next to her, also coloring,making sure he didn't mess up on his coloring. He was so focused that he didn't realize Charlie was now drawing on the table. She drew shapes and letters and even wrote her name.

She stands on her stubby little feet,going to walls, thinking it's a canvas she can use,and starts drawing.

Alastor walks in,feeling calmer until he sees the drawings all over the place,and his oh so beautiful lover also not watching their daughter.

Charlie sees her dad and runs to him,hugging his leg,"Daa,look!!" She excited said, pointing to her drawings on the wall.

Alastor's eye twitch,smiling as he picks her up,"They are so beautiful, darling." He said, holding her.

"Lucifer Morningstar. Honey."

The sound of his full name being called made the blonde flinch as he realized he got distracted,slowly looking at the drawings on the wall. Realizing he fucked up big time,then he looks at his partner who was smiling but also looked like he wanted to murder him. He gulps,"Doesn't our wall look more lovely? We needed to get rid of some of that boring blanknest anyhow! Haha.." he nervously says.

"Clean. It. Up.Now." was all Alastor said,"Come on dear,let's get you change into something different. " he says to Charlie,who nods her head happily.

Lucifer wasted no time in cleaning the walls and table.

Alastor takes Charlie to her room,he picks out a yellow shirt with a duck in a rainhat on,drinking juice with matching duck shorts for her to wear, which she absolutely loved. He also brushed her hair,it was slighlty messy from when she was napping. He humms as he brushes out some knots as she sits on his lap.

"Dada angy at mwama?" Charlie suddenly asked,looking up at her father,who tilts her head down for a bettle angel for brushing.

"No,of course not."

"Give mwama a scary look."

Alastor chuckles softly,"i promise I'm not mad if i was darling ,I'd be yelling at him along with putting him on the couch." He said, trying to put it as nicely as he could. If he was being honest, he would have given him the silent treatment and made him sleep on the couch,he could never yell at him.

He finishe brushing her hair,putting it in a braid,adding little yellow flowers," help make dinner?" he asked her.

"Ye!"

He smiles at her as she practically jumps up,running out the door as he follows quick behind her so she doesn't accidentally hurt herself.

Alastor put a little pink apron on his daughter along with a small chefs hat,"What should we have for dinner?" He asked,helping her wash her hands and dry.

"Megaa Sandshichh!!"

Alastor regretted this already, but it'd be payback at his lover,"Alright sweety. any anything for dessert...?"

"Babque cookiess!"

The demon father smiles,"lovely." He grabbed out all the ingredients they needed. He toasted the slices of bread for Charlie,letting them cool for a min or two before giving it to her. He also helped spread brown chocolate sauce on the bread with a knife as she placed a pickle on it along with adding a candy bar to it with ketchup,topping it with bread. The smell was awful for Alastor,he knows he'll order take out later after he puts her to bed.

For the dessert, it was obvious..he just got a small cup of bbq sauce and a packet of cookies.

He heats up the sandwiches his daughter made for all three of them,he plated them,setting it on the tabel,"Get your ma while i clean up some."

Charlie goes to her mother,he was just finished cleaning up,"food time!" She says to him.

His eyes lit up,picking her up as she giggles,"cant wait to eat!" He says going into the kitchen with her.

His face turns sour at the creation that was made.

"Your daughter made it my little apple. So eat up." Alastor smiles.

Lucifer takes a deep breath,setting Charlie in her high chair along with taking a seat himself.

Alastor took his sandwich whole,eating it without a problem,"Delicious. " he said, licking some of the melted food from his fingers.

Lucifer nearly gags,he can't believe he kisses that man with his mouth. He glances at his daughter, who is chowing down on her food happily.

"Your food is getting cold, darling." Alastor said with a smile.

The blonde takes ahold of the food,sniffing it..man pickles and chocolate don't go together...he thinks to himself before taking a bite,tasting ketchup.

His face turned green real quick,he stands up and ran to the bathroom quickly,trying not to hurl everywhere.

"Dada no like?" Charlie tilts her head,mouth and hands covered in chocolate.

"Worry not about him,he has a weak stomach. " Alastor tells her,picking up the uneaten sandwich and finishes it himself.

"Ready for dessert?"

"YEEES!"

Alastor places the bbq sauce and cookies in front of her while he takes her plate,and the other two to clean.

Charlie dips the cookie in the bbq sauce then eats it,like it was the best thing in the whole world and repeats the steps untill there was no more.

Alastor takes the cup and the wrapper of cookies and recycles them. He also grabbed a wash clother that he wet,wiping Charlie's face and hands,"Such a messy girl." He says before letting Charlie out of the high chair.

"Go play,don't make any messes, alright, darling?" He said nicely.

Charlie nods her head before running off to her toybox to play with her stuffed animals,in the meantime Alastor quickly put the clothes in the dry then went to check up on his lover.

"You done dying in there?" He asked Lucifer, who was puking his guts up. He goes into the bathroom,patting his lover's back. He did feel alittle bad for him,"I'm sorry, my little apple. I didn't think it'd upset your wittle stomach."

The blonde keeps regurgitating for a few more seconds,breathing heavily while wiping his mouth as tears were in his eyes . "It's fine." He sniffs.

Alastor hugs him gently,giving him kisses along with kissing his tears away,"I'm sorry." He repeats.

Lucifer laughs lightly,"Okay,Okay,i feel better, stoop!" He smiles a little.

"I'll order something light for you who later,something easy for your stomach. How's that sound?" Alastor suggested.

"I'd love that." The other replied.

"Imma check up on Charlie,ill order it when you come out love."

"Thank you."

Alastor goes back to his daughter and plays dolls with her for a few minutes.

Lucifer comes out,feeling a little better,sitting next to Alastor.

The three started to play dolls for abit untill it was time for Charlie's bedtime.

This time Alastor was the one who helped her get ready for bed while Lucifer clean up the toys along with waiting for the food they had ordered to arrive.

Alastor had no trouble with Charlie,getting her bathed and brushing her teeth. He tucks her in her duck shaped bed that had cute little duckies on the blankets and pillows,even the bed board was duck shaped. Alastor sits on the bed,reading one of her favorite books, which happens to be The Ugly Duckling.

He was almost done with the book when he noticed his daughter had fallen asleep. He smiles sweetly at her,giving her head a kiss as he pulls the blanket up on her some so she doesn't get cold. "Love you, my little devil child. "

He gets up,putting the book back on the bookshelves, then leaves,making sure the door is open just alittle.

The red-haired male sits next to the blonde who was eating his steak,he undo his ponytail,leaning back against the couch,feeling tired himself from the eventful day.

"Want a bite?" Lucifer asked,mouth full of different things he had ordered.

"I'm good love. Though i didn't expect you to get alot."

"I may be small but i have a big appetite even after our precious daughter's cooking. "

Alastor chuckles,running his fingers through his hair,"Fair point. I should let her make our dinner more often."

He nearly choked, "I didn't say that now!"

"Im just kidding,we'll have her cook sometimes. Ill even buy her a mini oven!" Alastor smiles,glancing at his lover.

"If you do that I'll sleep on the couch !"

"Ha! Is that a threat, love?"

Lucifer pouts,"Hey!"

"Im joking, hun." Alastor smiles,leaning against Lucifer,giving him kisses in which he returns.

"Love you, Bambi."

"Love you too, my Applepie.

#hello tumblr #no proofreading we die like men #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #appleradio #RadioApple #fanfic #little charlie #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #soft alastor #soft Lucifer #fluff #wholesome