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#prompt ask answered
kenjakusbraincum · 4 months
Note
Heey, I LOVE your writings on soft sukuna, you write so beautifully🩷 please can you do one where he is jealous (fluff)😭🩷
Thank you sm for the kind words!!! Here's my best attempt at doing your idea justice <3
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Sukuna has no real reason to be jealous. He practically owns you, controls every aspect of your life, who or what could he possibly be jealous of? Every servant who dared approach you in an inappropriate way would be dealt with swiftly. And you're a good pet, who has eyes for no one other than your master. You really don't give him a reason.
But there's this one thing... Since you've been so good and obedient, Sukuna has allowed you many liberties. You're permitted to skip around the mansion, watch Uraume cook, even enjoy little hobbies. You've tried many before you found that crocheting particularly piqued your interest. Ever since you've learned the basics, you've been spending hours working on perfecting your skills. At first it was cute, watching you squint in concentration as you move the hook. But then the math became really simple - having this hobby to keep you busy meant you approached Sukuna out of boredom a lot less. And he noticed it. It irked him, but you're not technically doing anything wrong. You were still as happy to serve him as ever, he just had to ask. But why would he have to ask? You should be all over him on your own. He should have to push you away, not beg you to give him attention. He didn't like this disturbance in your master and pet balance that this little hobby of yours caused.
He stands at the door now. You're crocheting again. You and your favorite servant laugh at your failed creation so sweetly, you don't even notice he's waiting. He clicks his tongue to establish his presence, and your servant falls to her knees immediately. You however, are not held to that high of a standard anymore.
"Master!", you call him, and hop up to greet him with a deep bow. Before he can say anything, you've picked up the piece of fabric you've been working on and ran into his arms to show him.
He looks at the ugly form and scoffs. "This is what I'm sponsoring?", he says and pulls a loose piece of yarn, making your little creation fall apart. He always was a bully, but you note his bad mood.
"I'm only a beginner...", you sulk.
"That much is obvious.", he flicks the yarn away and it falls onto the floor. Before you can bend to pick it up, he seizes your wrist and pulls you back. "Aren't you a little young to waste time with hobbies for the elderly?", he asks. You look at him with your cutest, practiced doe eyes, but it doesn't work.
"Come, pet. I know an activity more suitable for your age.", he says when you don't respond, and steps out of the room. You hop after him, unaffected by his condescending comments. You know that they're just for show. If he really thought you were a hag, you would've been gone a long time ago.
"Sitting at your throne all day?", you tease innocently and join him at his side, sliding your arm underneath one of his. You hope your playfulness will distract him from whatever is bothering him. "Or in a bath?" His lower set of eyes peeks at you and smirks, noticing that you're feeling particularly daring today. He's not sure how he feels about that. "Or in your bed." He rolls his eyes gently and opens the door to his chambers.
"At least then you'd be serving your purpose and actually spending time with your master.", he comments and shuts the door. His comment catches you a bit off guard and you stop in front of his bed. He makes his way towards you, and you look up at him with an insulted expression.
"Master, are you jealous of a ball of yarn?", you ask playfully, and squeal when he suddenly pushes you down to sit on the bed. Now you're at eye level... with his crotch.
"You've got quite a big mouth today. Put it to good use for a change, will you?", he runs his hand from the crown of your head to the back of your neck. You seem to have struck a nerve, so it really is the ball of yarn. Is it possible that Sukuna is this clingy?
"Will you?", he repeats and tugs on your hair and narrows his eyes. You smile obediently and reach behind him to untie his obi.
"Yes Master."
-
You try your best to manage the time you spend crocheting from then on, working on productivity in the hours that you dedicate to developing this skill. And it helps that you have a specific goal in mind now: helping Sukuna realize that this hobby is a friend, not an enemy. He still catches you engaging in it sometimes, and gives you a dirty look, but you're as quick as ever to drop what you're doing and join him. That seems to satisfy him.
When you're finally happy with the result of your creation, you look for Sukuna around the mansion. It's not really that hard to find him, as he frequents three places most of all: the dining room, his bedroom and his throne room. This time, he's sitting on his throne, and a small line of people wait for their turn to be gifted his attention. You on the other hand, don't have to wait in line to get it. His lower set of eyes spots you the moment you enter the chamber. You're allowed to roam the mansion, but barging in unannounced is not standard even for you.
Still, Sukuna has learned that you usually only feel daring enough to cross boundaries when you're sure he'll like what you have in mind. So for now, he will let this slide. He's bored as hell anyways. The people are dismissed and you pass by them on your way to his throne, nestled on a pile of bones. You stop in front of it and greet him with a bow.
"Master, I come to you with a humble offering.", you say with your hands on your thighs and your eyes fixated on the ground.
"Show me.", he says simply, but you recognize entertainment in his voice. You climb up the bones and feel his stare scan you from head to toe, before you sit on his knee.
"May I ask you to close your eyes?", you ask and flutter your lashes. Oh the way you seduce him. Who else could ask Sukuna to do something as dangerous as close his eyes? Give his opponent valuable time to land an attack. Who else could dare? And who else would he ever listen to and really close his eyes? Really do as he's told? Oh how safe he feels with you.
You take one of his large hands into yours, and gently pry his long fingers away to open his palm. He has beautiful hands. The only ones you've ever known, but you're sure they're the most beautiful hands in the world. So dangerous, so elegant. You want to press a kiss to his palm, but you hope your gift will have the same, maybe even more profound effect.
Something soft touches his skin, and then you speak, as politely as before. "You may look.", in your softest voice. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking at you first. You're an offering on your own.
Then he looks at his hand. Two crocheted plush figures resembling him and yourself lay flat on his palm, connected through their holding hands. At first glance, it looks like they're two separate creations. In a sense, they are, but... He tries to part them.
"We're sewn together.", you explain. He hums in amusement and inspects your gift more closely. His plush is bigger, recognizable by the pink hair and four buttons for eyes. It's even wearing his favorite kimono. Yours is smaller and less detailed. You look like any other human when placed next to him, insignificant. But in a sea of pets, entertainers and lovers he's had in the past, he would never fail to recognize it as you.
He's spent so long looking at it with that face of his that you just can't read. You're starting to grow restless in his lap, and he feels your eyes dwell into his soul. When he looks back at you with one pair of eyes, your brows are furrowed in worry and you're fiddling your hands in your lap. He pats you on the head and pulls you closer, so you have no choice but to lean on his frame.
"It's beautiful, darling.", his fingers run through your hair, scraping your scalp softly. "No loose threads either.", he looks at you with all four eyes now, and you feel so small in his arms. You're not used to receiving this many compliments from Sukuna at once. Not ones that weren't directed at your body or performance. Especially not when he's looking at you so tenderly, when every word sounds so loving and genuine. "You've improved so much.", his hand is on your face now, and you catch him glancing at your lips. You part them to start thanking him, but you already know how much he hates listening to that.
You stay quiet instead, and lean closer, letting him take you. And he kisses you so softly, fingertips light against your heated skin. You feel like you're floating, like a lily pad in a warm pond. The littlest gesture of his affection has you melting in his embrace. The power he has over you... and how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to it.
None of the liberties and privileges you've been awarded with compare to this. You know that many pets have walked these halls before you. Many warmed his bed and claimed the title of his favorite. But how many loved him like this? Enough to dedicate time of their day to making intricate gifts. How many could say Sukuna kissed them lovingly, for no other reason than to show gratitude and affection?
You're flushed completely red by the time his lips leave yours. You can't hold the intensity of his gaze, as he stares at you in adoration. "I'm happ.. I'm glad you l-like it...", you stumble through the words and win a giggle out of him. You are just so cute. Like a pet should be. He rubs your head again and pushes you away lightly.
"Go now, the people await me.", he says with a benevolent smile gracing his face. "I'll see you tonight."
You bow to him and leave.
And when you visit him that night, he is as gentle as he was when he kissed you earlier, still in a good mood after your gift. Caressing your hair, shoulders and back, as you lay comfortably with your head on his chest. Keeping you warm in his embrace. You're trying your best to follow the conversation, but sleep is slowly taking over you. Sukuna notices and plants a kiss to your forehead, wishing you goodnight. The last thing you see before your eyes close, is your handcrafted plushies sitting on his nightstand.
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becca-e-barnes · 9 months
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all i can think about is bucky literally BEGGING to eat your pussy. just on his knees, calling himself a needy slut, just looking up at you with puppy dog eyes while he just begs for your pussy on his mouth. ugh.
Men who are this into eating pussy have a special place reserved for them in Heaven. Hearing someone beg to go down on you is life changing when they know what they're doing 🙈
But you're so right, Bucky would be so willing to degrade himself like that just to be allowed to go down on you. He'd be on his knees, trying to ignore how full his balls feel, begging for you.
"P-please." His voice is so quiet you almost start to question if he said it intentionally. "I need to taste you. I can't think about anything else."
His cock twitches despite how heavy it looks, flushed and angry against the pale skin of his thighs.
"Really?" You tease, tilting his chin up with two fingers so he's looking at your face, rather than your body. "Tell me exactly what you're thinking. Describe it to me"
He doesn't miss a beat. "I'm thinking about how soft you are, how warm and silky your cunt feels under my tongue. I'm thinking about burying my tongue as deep inside you as I can reach and still wishing I could get deeper. I want to feel how wet you are but more than anything, I want to taste how wet you are. I want to dream about it for the rest of the week. Every time I stroke my cock I want to be able to remember how you taste."
Precum drips from his tip and you're not sure you can deny him much longer. Not when he's making it sound so appealing.
"Do you even hear yourself?" You do your very best to act like you don't love the sound of every word that has just come out of his mouth.
"I do. I sound like a shameless, filthy, desperate slut. The type of slut who wants to kiss and lick and worship your sweet pussy until you're so sensitive you have to force me to stop." His hand wanders between his own legs, tugging his stiff length to the mere thought.
He's not above begging and you know that. He'll draw this out as long as he needs to until he gets his way but there's very little sense in that when you want this just as much as he does.
"Lie on the bed." You give him time to make his way over before following, lining yourself up just above his face.
You take a second to smooth his hair, enjoying the feeling of his freshly shaved face against the sensitive insides of your thighs.
He's looking up at you, your eyes meeting his. "Thank you." The relief in his voice is clear right before he grasps your hips and pulls you down onto his mouth.
Fuck, he's incredible. This is the mouth you dream about when you're alone. His tongue massages your clit, stroking back and forth before dipping into your fluttering entrance. You swear he must feel what he's doing to you. You feel your cunt clenching and rippling, your muscles contracting in response to the pleasure and for a second you wonder if he can tell.
He's hungry for this; he has been for hours. He's moaning and slurping obscenely, his tongue buried in your cunt. You don't even need to look over your shoulder to know that he's alternating between fucking his own fist and gripping the base of his shaft tight enough to stop him from spilling his release all over himself too soon.
It's very hard to tell which of you enjoys this more.
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dxckgrxsonx · 11 months
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"you can pretend all you want, i can see the fucking mess you're making of yourself." + jason please my love??? i love e2l <3
Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader
Words - 900ish
Warnings - 18+ SMUT - Graphic Sexual Content - Unprotected Sex - Cocky!Jason (he's good and he knows it) - Swearing
Notes - Hi my darlings!! It's been far too long since I've written something smutty so here you are!! Hope you enjoy!! <3
**
He pisses you off like nothing else on this Earth.
Broad shoulders, incredible skill, smart fucking mouth. He calls you in the middle of the night knowing you’d answer; knowing without a shadow of a doubt that even with you seething and furious and goddamn exhausted, you would still pick up the phone.
He’s smug about it and sometimes, just sometimes, you consider blocking his stupid number.
“I absolutely fucking hate you.” You greet, halfway into a snarl. Vaguely, you acknowledge that it’s not an ideal greeting, but it’s three in the morning and the thread of patience between your fists frays horribly when Jason steps out of the dark, already grinning at the look on your face. “I was sleeping.”
“And yet…” Jason says, watching you far too intently. “Here you are anyway.” He presses forwards, crowds you right up against the nearest flat surface, and tips your head up so you have no choice but to watch him pick you apart. “It’s almost like you can’t say no to me, sweetheart. In fact, I don't think you’ve ever said no to me…”
“Don’t.” You whisper, knowing where he’s heading. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He presses on you hard enough to bruise; hard enough to scatter hairline fractures through your whole nervous system. It feels like static. It feels like an ache Jason carved into you with his own two hands–and his beautifully thick cock–to mark you as his own.
“You want this.” He breathes, mouth still pitched up in that wicked smirk and your entire world starts bending in the middle, moulding around Jason and warping under his capable hands. You can’t stand it: you hate yourself for it. “You get wet just thinking about it…thinking about me.”
It was a chance meeting and back then you were so goddamn stupid.
You could hardly walk after the first time, cunt stretched open and sore from how many times he opened you up with his fingers–with his cock. He was big and thick and he had no choice but to take his time to get your pretty pussy to yield to him–to let him in. He praised you the whole time, and then fucked you until you were trembling and whimpering and squeezing at his cock.
It was weeks before you heard from him again and nothing you did with your own two hands was enough.
You needed him and he knew it.
You need him now and he knows it.
There’s a wet spot soaking through your underwear and the second Jason see’s it he’s groaning something feral against your throat. Shoving you backwards onto the bed he chases and wedges his broad shoulders between your thighs before you have a chance to flinch them closed.
Grabbing at your knees he spreads you open and pushes your legs back until they’re almost by your ears. Your muscles burn at the stretch, and you try to wiggle out of his grip but Jason leans forward and drags his tongue over the slick fabric covering your weeping slit.
“Fuck you.” You gasp. Unable to think of anything but how much you hate him for what he’s turned you into and how good he makes you feel. “Fuck you so much.”
He laughs and it’s almost mean with how arrogant he is.
Jason releases his hold on your knees to unbuckle his belt and then he’s back, smacking the thick, heavy length of him against your covered pussy. He rubs the fat head through the growing damp patch on your underwear and your puffy clit twitches hard enough that he can see it throb.
Wedging the tip of his cock underneath the fabric he teases your soaked hole until you thrash a little and whine. Pressing in just enough to get you to stretch open around him he pulls back so he can do it again and you snap your jaw closed around the pleas building in your mouth.
“Say it.” Jason demands.
Sinking the first few inches into your soft, slick pussy Jason holds and waits, Lazarus eyes awake and interested in each trembling twitch of your body.
“I hate this.” You lie, unable to stop yourself from throbbing around the tip of his cock, arousal leaking and squelching out around the edges of him. “I hate you.”
“Oh sweetheart.” Jason hums, using one hand to pull your underwear to the side so he can see just how embarrassingly wet you are. Your slick sticks to the fabric and it stays attached to your pussy in thin strings “You can pretend all you want, I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself.”
Thrusting forwards he stuffs his full length inside you with one, rough stroke and you moan loud enough to shake the windows.
“Oh–ah fuck!–Jason.” You try, voice trembling.
“There you go.” He says. “I knew you wanted this. I knew your aching little pussy wouldn’t be able to say no to me. No one can fuck you like I can, sweetheart.” Shoving your knees apart he holds you so tightly you can barely move and watches his cock split you open. “Every time I call you, there you are, all mad and pretty and wet. And the second I get inside you, you go all soft and cockdrunk for me.”
“Uh–plea–please.”
“Yeah.” Jason grins. “Just like that. Now, let’s see how much you can come for me this time, huh? You managed three last time before you started crying. But I think you can do better for me, right sweetheart?”
**
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paperultra · 6 months
Text
the liminal space.
Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 1,575 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol use [A/N: written with the cooper!reader from mise en rose in mind. i don't know where in the timeline this occurs, though. lol.]
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cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms
Living in close quarters can really change how you see a person.
Roronoa Zoro, for instance, had always struck you as rather aloof, having traveled alone for some time before you joined him, and unused to physical affection. He never gave any indication that he was one to enjoy it, and he never sought it out from anyone. That certainly wasn’t odd. You respected his tendency towards personal space, subsequently believing that it extended to his sleeping habits as well.
So when you wake up, hardly able to breathe underneath the hulking mass of a snoring swordsman, you are more surprised than anything.
“Zoro,” you wheeze, patting his back with the hand that isn’t crushed between his chest and yours. Nothing happens, so you swat harder. “Zoro. You’re crushing me.”
His arms squeeze around you as he stirs, inhaling sharply next to your ear. You stop moving as he lifts his head and opens his eyes just wide enough to register you beneath him.
He pauses.
Good morning, sunshine is what you want to say in a cheeky tone. You want to prove that you’re unaffected by the warmth of his body pressing yours into the mattress, the sensation of his breath across your cheekbone and the way his gaze transitions from something bleary into something sharp.
The greeting refuses to leave your mouth. All you can do is blink.
The next thing you know, Zoro’s rolling off of you and out of bed with nary an apology, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.
You hum distantly in response and stare up at the ceiling as he shuffles to the door. Once he closes it behind him, you reach up and fold your hands over your eyes, cheeks hot.
Great.
It all started because you and Zoro could only afford a single bed at the inn.
(You use the term “afford” loosely here. The truth of the matter is that you grossly underestimated how much a room would cost, and the owner of the one place willing to lend you a room for half the usual rate demanded physical labor to make up for the rest. Given that Zoro would be spending most of his time hunting down a bounty, the majority of the unpaid labor fell on your shoulders.)
(But you digress.)
The room is small and bare, which is fine, because you and Zoro don’t have much between the two of you anyway. The only problem is that there is only one bed. Zoro had expressed no qualms about sharing so long as you didn’t disturb his sleep, and you had readily agreed, not wanting either of you to sleep on the floor.
After the first morning, you’re not sure if that was a lapse of judgement on your part or not.
Zoro doesn’t mention it at all before he leaves for the day, and you don’t, either. However, when he comes back in the middle of the night and you’re already in bed, squinting and shielding yourself from the bright hallway light as he takes his slippers off and walks in, he sits on the carpet just a few feet away from your side.
“What are you doing?” you ask as he proceeds to lay down.
“Sleeping.”
He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. You frown.
“Why aren’t you sleeping up here?” No answer. You lift your head from your pillow, indignant. “Hey, don’t ignore me! I know you’re still awake.”
“I’ve had a long day,” he grumbles, “so I’d like some quiet so I can sleep. Thanks.”
You huff.
The thought that Zoro might actually be just as embarrassed flits briefly through your mind, but you extinguish it just as quickly. He’s never seemed like the kind of guy to be self-conscious about those kinds of things. A more likely reason is that he’s decided that he wants his own separate space after all and can’t be bothered to kick you off the bed.
So, you kick yourself off instead.
“What are you doing?” The phrase now comes from Zoro as you throw the covers off and grab your pillow, kneeling on the ground beside him. His eyes open and his brow furrows.
“Take the bed. I feel guilty.”
“I don’t want the bed.”
“Everybody wants the bed.” You lie down on the carpet and cross your arms over your chest, stubborn. “I’ve already slept in it. Now it’s your turn.”
“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says.
Neither of you budge.
The next morning, you decide that the first morning was in fact not a fluke, as you awake with your face smushed against his chest and the smell of steel in your nose once again. He’s not on top of you, at least, but the way he clutches you while you’re lying on your side, one ankle hooked over yours, is somehow ten times more mortifying. You wake him up in the midst of untangling yourself and pretend like nothing happened.
Who’s the idiot now? (The answer is both of you. Both of you are idiots.)
The third night, you and Zoro flop onto the hard mattress with twin groans, heads spinning and feeling overall miserable.
“That was the shittiest booze I’ve ever had,” Zoro slurs next to you, face down in his pillow.
“But you got a lead, right?” you mumble.
“Yeah …”
You had been there in the bar when he’d gotten that lead, but you can’t remember what it was for the life of you. Another inn? Another bar? Ugh, you’re never drinking there again.
“I’m cold.”
There are blankets on the bed. Unfortunately, getting underneath them would require a lot of moving, and you are physically incapable of exerting yourself that much right now.
You shiver and turn onto your side to curl up. You’ll fall asleep at some point, anyway.
Zoro murmurs your name.
“Hm,” you groan, eyes screwed shut.
He doesn’t say anything in reply. But you hear the mattress squeak, the bedsheets rustle as he shifts closer, and your breath catches when the small distance between you closes. He does not wrap his arms around you, no, but your knees touch, and the heat from his skin melds into yours. You hear his breathing slow to a crawl.
Through your drunken haze breaks through a sudden need to draw him into you, to tuck your face into his neck and keep it there forever. You want – you want. But you’re exhausted, and your head aches, so you find yourself slipping into a deep slumber instead.
He’s already gone when you wake up.
A suspiciously lumpy gunnysack in the corner of the room catches your eye once you enter, hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Eight million beri,” Zoro says from his seat on the bed. Cleaning supplies for his swords are strewn around him, and he sheathes the Wado Ichimonji as you close the door. “I ran into another bounty on the way back.”
“Eight mill –” You clear your throat. “Wow. That was pretty lucky.” Eight million beri. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to how much bounty hunters can make. (God, that would’ve been more than enough to pay for the room.) “We’re heading out to a marine base tomorrow morning, then?”
“That’s the plan.”
He puts away his supplies, setting them and his swords against the wall near his pillow before standing up to pull down the sheets on his side. You turn off the bedside lamp and do the same, crawling in with a sigh.
The two of you simply lie side-by-side until you decide to break the silence with your big mouth again.
“Am I a burden to you?” you ask.
“No.” The plainness of Zoro’s tone is a small comfort, you suppose. “Why are you asking?”
“Well …” You already regret bringing this topic up as you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “I feel like I haven’t really done much. I mean, I help with navigating and searching crowds and stuff, and I’ve been getting better at fighting, but I can’t help you, you know?” You fiddle with your fingers. “You don’t actually need me.”
There’s a gap between you and Zoro that you’ll likely never be able to close. You had always known that, and so had Zoro; in fact, he had told you at the start that going with him was a bad idea, given your inexperience in bounty hunting and traveling in general. And although you’d like to think that your ability to read a map and fix things convinced him of your usefulness, there are times when you think Zoro regrets bringing you along. Like now.
Zoro grunts, turning to lay on his back. His shoulder nearly lands on your hands, and you draw them to yourself as you wait for his answer.
It is brief and straightforward.
“I’m not forcing you to go with me,” he says. “And if you were a burden, I would’ve told you a long time ago.”
“Oh.”
It is brief and straightforward, and yet, there’s a strange lump in your throat. You swallow it and nod, even though he cannot see you do so.
Nothing more is said. However, as the night goes on, you reach out, and you find him, and Zoro finds you, and the space between your arms fills up with warmth and an unspoken promise. And you sleep very well.
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dumplingsjinson · 6 months
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List of “I don’t want to be just friends with benefits anymore” prompts
Requested by: Anonymous Request: “Hello!! I’ve been a huge fan of your prompts for a hot minute, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to make a list of “ending (or attempting to end) a friends with benefits situation with the person you’re in love with” prompts. I’d love to see what you do with it if you get to this 👀 Thank you!!!”
“I don’t wanna sleep around with you anymore. I’m tired of being just a body for you to fuck.”
“We’re practically a couple anyway so why can’t we just like… Upgrade to that instead of staying as fuckbuddies?” 
“I’m trying to get out of the fuckzone here.”
“What’s stopping us from becoming more than this?”
“This isn’t what I had in mind,” Character A says, sighing as Character B nips lightly at their neck. “I wanted to talk about us, damn it.”
“I wasn’t going to get on my knees for you tonight.” “…Well, look at where we are.”
“How did me wanting to have a conversation about us end up with me naked in your bed?”
“The more I fuck around with you, the more my feelings for you are getting worse. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“I’m not here just for the sex. At least not anymore.” 
“I’m emotionally attracted to you, as much as I am physically attracted to you. This is to say I don’t only love to fuck you, but I’m… I think I’m in love with you. And, fuck, I never said anything because I knew you’d give me that look.” 
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puppetmaster13u · 1 month
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Hey you know you're sentient Lazarus Pit thing? what if the pit that leaves Ra's goes on to *become* the Batcave Lazarus Pit?!?
Like "I've had enough of you ra's, I'm going to go live with my son." (Jason)
Oh my god that's genius. Another idea: Pit just shows up in Jason's safehouse with Danny under one arm like look i brought you a baby brother :)
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tanglepelt · 1 year
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Dp x dc idea 31
Danny is having a conversation with some dc hero this is the gist.
Hero: so your a meta
Danny: whats a meta
Hero: so an alien???
Danny: aliens exist?!
Hero: so where are you from
Danny: Illinois
Basically Danny has no clue what’s going on in the outside world. Whether it be a info blackout in amity or just him being to stressed to keep up. Just this hero trying to figure out what he is.
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shanastoryteller · 15 days
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Happy vday
Can you do a pjo or God's and monsters, or dealers choice! 1💜
a continuation of 1 2
Luke thinks that this really is the end, here in this dirty alley in the middle of Chicago. He's going to die and Thalia's going to die and Annabeth is going to die and it's all going to be his fault because he's the oldest and this was his idea and he's an idiot.
He almost calls out for his father, but he knows it would be a waste of breath. Hermes is never there when he needs him.
The monster is bearing down on them and there's no storm clouds for Thalia to summon lightning and he just has his gold club and Annabeth's dagger just isn't enough to kill this thing dead.
Except instead of teeth and pain and death, there's a boy jumping on the monster's back, tan skin and dark hair and swinging a jeweled celestial bronze blade like Luke's never seen before.
He's good with a sword, his skills honed over the years where it was either victory or death, but this guy moves quickly and powerfully, his moves fluid in a way that Luke didn't know a person could move while swinging around a deadly hunk of sharp metal.
The monster dies in a shower of golden sparks. The boy turns to look at them, eyes a green with hints of gold, and a grin that that shows off his very white teeth.
He can't be more than a year or two older than him. Luke feels his face heat and hates himself for it.
Luckily Thalia doesn't notice because she's too busy staring at their savior. "What the - who are you?"
He taps his sword twice on the ground and it shrinks, turning into a ring that he slips one while bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Wow that was really - that can't have happened last time."
"What are you talking about?" Annabeth demands, scowl firmly in place.
"Don't worry about it," he says. "I'm Percy. It looks like you guys could use some help."
"You're a demigod," Luke says cautiously, because what else could he be, but if there was a demigod like this walking around he feels like he would have heard of it.
"Sure am," he says. "You guys are attracting a lot of trouble traveling together." He pauses for a beat then asks, "Want to attract some more?"
"No," Annabeth and Thalia answer at the same time.
"Sure," Luke says.
They're glaring at him, but what did they expect?
He's the son of the god of thieves.
And Percy is just asking to be stolen.
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hypewinter · 5 months
Text
Jazz wasn't crazy. People might argue that burning her childhood home to the ground with her parents still inside would be an indicator of insanity. But how else was she supposed to react after coming back home from college to find out her parents had brutally killed her brother via vivisection?
Dying her hair blonde wasn't crazy either before anyone asked. Plenty of girls dyed their hair when they needed a change. Besides, she could never live with herself if she kept the same hair color as that vile woman.
Admittedly Jazz would have to secede moving to Gotham had been a little crazy but it was the perfect place to start fresh and blend in despite her "quirks". She had even picked out a nice new identity for herself.
Clearly Jazz was not crazy as she had managed to land a job at Arkham Asylum as a psychiatrist. If she were really insane would they have ever hired her? No they wouldn't have.
Jazz was not crazy. She was very much sane. Just like her precious Mr. J.
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fantasydaydreamers · 8 months
Text
Bakugou x You x Kirishima
Summary: Bakugou shows his friend just how perfect you are and just how lucky he is.
Warnings: LEMON // fem!reader, cuck kink, breeding kink, squirting
Author's Note: No comment... (actually yes comment, I'm writing something kinda sorta similar to this. it will be posted on Ao3 tho but ofc I'll post the link here to let ya'll know when. also today is my birthdayyyy!!!🎉)
You were in a mating press position. Kirishima had one hand on the back of your knee, pushing your leg up further to your chest as the other thumbed your clit in teasing circles. His hips kept a steady rhythm, his cock driving deep into you, causing the wet slapping noises to echo loud in the room.
"F-fuck~" Kirishima was almost whining, his head aimed down to watch your wet puffy folds hug his cock with every thrust. Whines left your mouth, delirious with pleasure, the embarrassment of the situation long gone.
You've been here for a while now, and at first it was only you and your boyfriend, until Kirishima had called and interrupted. You and Bakugou had talked before about adding another person in the bedroom, but you had no idea it would be your closest friend!
Well...it made sense since it wasn't as awkward as you imagined and you trusted Kirishima. But this...it seems like they teamed up halfway through to make you lose your mind.
Your other knee was held back by Bakugou, as he sat next to you, stroking his own cock leisurely as he watched, pupils blown wide with pleasure.
"Good fucking girl, (Y/n)," Bakugou murmured, thumbing his red angry tip. You tried to blink away your blurry vision to see his face but all you saw was his eyes trained on his best friend's cock being coated in your juices every time he pulled out. "Feels good, doesn't it, (Y/n)?" Bakugou smirked slightly, panting. "Look at you making a mess..."
"Bakugou- fuck!" Kirishima stilled his hips as he presses tightly against you to grind up into your g-spot, causing you to squeal, trying to squirm away. Bakugou tightened his grip on your knee, groaning.
"She's gonna cum...Bakugou she's so fucking close- twitching like crazy..." Kirishima grits his teeth, finally looking up from your swollen pussy to catch your gaze, mouth dropping open as he watches your breath hitch with every roll of his hips.
"Y-yeah? Here?" Kirishima smirks slightly as your hand slams down on the bed in frustration, before gripping the sheets again, feeling everything so intensely. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You wanted to cum so fucking bad and you couldn't do much with your boyfriend and his best friend pinning your legs back except to take it.
Bakugou groaned lowly, gripping the base of his cock feeling it throb with the threat of release. "Heh...never heard you curse this much, Kiri. What? All it took for you was to experience what good pussy feels like?"
Kirishima drops his head with a whimper, hips jerking slightly before starting to thrust again. Starting slow and torturous, making your eyes roll back. "So fucking wet and tight...shit- you're so lucky." He grunted out, his thrusts picking up speed again, ignoring Bakugou's comment.
"Damn right. She's all mine, aren't you, baby?" Bakugou let go of his cock, not before swiping some of his precum, and brought his finger to your mouth. Your mouth was already open, drool coming out of the side as he stuck his finger in, stroking your tongue, urging you to suck.
Your whimpers and cries become muffled, eyes locked on Kirishima's as you suck your boyfriend's fingers. The thumb on your clit starts making tighter circles, biting his lip as he watches you, entranced.
"Oh fuck- she's cumming...I feel it-" Kirishima's gasps out feeling you clamp down on his cock in a vice grip, your back arching as much as it could in your position as your vision whited out. Bakugou pulls his fingers out roughly, gripping his cock tightly.
"Fuck!"
Kirishima pulls out in the middle of your orgasm, grabbing his cock to rub it fast over your sloppy pussy, the sensation against your clit prolonging your orgasm. Kirishima growls, seeing you squirt, his cock spreading the sticky wet mess, before easing his cock back in to feel your walls pulse violently around him.
Tears fall from your eyes, overstimulated and sensitive but too drunk on the pleasure to make it stop.
"Mhm~ good girl," Bakugou groaned, fisting his cock again as his eyes drank in the sight of you cumming. "That's right...Kiri made you cum nice and hard huh? Tell him how it feels."
Kirishima laughs breathlessly, his lips red and puffy from biting them, before letting out a strained groan. "She's squeezing me still...trying to milk my cock..."
"Kiri- oh, fuck~" You try to talk but your broken voice trailed off in pathetic whimpers and cries. As if the sounds in the room couldn't get any louder, the squelching only amplified after your orgasm. A shudder wracked your body and you felt a second orgasm quickly approaching.
"Again, baby?" Kirishima cooed, his own eyes were hazy and lidded with pleasure. "I feel you tightening again...can you wait for me?"
Bakugou moans softly, fisting his cock again slowly. "Inside, Kiri. Cum inside and fill her up."
This time, a loud whine left Kirishima as he locked gazes with Bakugou, some clarity coming back to his eyes. "Y-yeah? You s-sure, man?"
"Please, Kiri," you chime in, reaching for his hand that was still behind your knee.
"Mhm...you like to be bred, don't you, baby?" His tone tried to sound mocking, but you heard how wrecked he sounded. All you did was nod, staring up at Kirishima as you tried to hold back your second orgasm.
"Fuckfuckfuck~" A mantra of curses fell from his mouth as he rocked his hips faster, quick deep thrusts that made you feel it in your stomach. You couldn't hold it much longer, locking gazes with your boyfriend was all it took for your second orgasm to crash over you. More tears fell from your eyes as you barely felt Kirishima's hips stutter as he came inside of you, his drawn out groan echoing Bakugou's as he came in his hand.
You don't remember closing your eyes, but the feeling of gentle hands easing your legs back down, massaging the crease where your legs connect to your pelvic bone had you groaning from the ache.
"Shhh...good girl, (Y/n). So good for us, so perfect." Bakugou murmurs in your hair, kissing your forehead. "Let me go get a warm wash cloth. I'll be back."
The bed shifted and the massage on your thighs continued, and you faintly realize Kirishima was still buried inside of you. Your eyes flutter open and see how softly he was watching you.
"Are you okay?" He whispered, face flushed. Weakly you smile back, nodding. You felt wonderful. Blissed out and full, your eyes close again basking in the massage on your aching body.
Almost dozing off, the press of a warm wash cloth against your sensitive skin had you jerking.
"Shh...it's okay. He's gonna keep it in baby," Bakugou's husky voice had you shivering again. "We got you."
"Bakugou-" Kirishima starts, sounding somewhat panicked, which made you open your eyes in time to see Bakugou smirking down at you, the feeling of a finger tracing over your pussy lips, stretched around Kirishima's cock.
Kirishima twitches inside of you and you gulp, knowing this night was far from over.
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theminecraftbee · 3 months
Note
zombie joe?
Cleo buries her head in her hands and screams.
"There there," Joe says, incredibly awkwardly. "While I, personally, have never failed to shuffle off this mortal coil like this before, I've seen a lot of movies, and I'm lead to believe this is the kind of thing zombies do on accident all the time. It's like, the thing zombies are known for!"
"They're going to kick me out," Cleo says, half-miserable and half-furious. "I just got here and they're going to kick me out."
"They're not going to kick you out," Joe says, looking even more awkward. "Er, I mean. Not that I'd know how you got here in such a way that I know the other hermits won't kick you out or nothing, you'll find I have no way of knowing, since we're supposed to be doing things by consensus, but I also do know, because they aren't going to kick you out."
"I panicked and bit you!" Cleo says. "I got crowded, panicked, and bit you."
"Um," Joe says. "Yes, well, that did happen."
"And I turned you into a zombie."
"And it's really quite bracing!" Joe says. The awkward tone to his voice has gotten higher-pitched. There's a certain level of forced cheer to it. Cleo doesn't know if she appreciates it or if it makes her want to scream even more. "I mean, typically I have a heartrate, but I don't, right now! And even though my heart would normally be racing when I panic, it isn't! Also, I bet I could cut off my finger with next-to-no consequences, which makes it suddenly really tempting to--"
"Joe!" Cleo says.
"Cleo!" Joe says back.
Cleo sighs. She looks over Joe. She's not sure whether it's very in-character or out-of-character that he barely looks any different, but if it weren't for a certain grey pallor to his skin, the very visible bite mark on his arm, and the fact he is somehow already missing an eye, she might be able to pass him off as not-a-zombie. Unfortunately...
She runs a hand through her hair.
"It's fine. It's fine!" she says. "To tell the truth, I don't know if I'm meant for--"
"I should practice my moaning!" Joe says brightly.
"What," Cleo says flatly.
"You know like. Auuurgh. Grrrrr. Rawr."
"Did you just--rawr?"
"Is that one best?"
"No!"
"How about... rawr~<3!" Joe says, and then immediately starts coughing. "No, no, that was bad, even I know that was bad--"
Cleo can't help it. She starts laughing. Joe appears startled, staring at her like she's a large bear that has suddenly started doing a dance. His expression somehow looks even more wild-eyed with the missing eyeball and the dried blood on his arm from the bite.
"Did that... work?" Joe says.
"I am going to be kicked off of your safe haven server for being a threat to the integrity of the place because I'm infectious and you're rawring at me," Cleo says.
"...I will take that as a win," Joe says. "The laughing! The laughing! Not the getting kicked off, you aren't getting kicked off, I told you what I did to Biffa when I was first invited right--why are you laughing more I'm not even trying to be funny anymore--"
Cleo doesn't have a heart to slow or speed, but just then, she feels like she has a heart to warm. Yeah, sure. She might be in massive trouble, but at least this thing she's built with Joe--that's alright.
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spacedace · 1 year
Note
Prompt: Because the Infinite Realms exists outside of time and space, the Ghost King summoning ritual is akin to pulling a random draw on a Gacha Game. The stronger the king, the rarer the summon.
Danny is the strongest :)
I refreshed my ask box and hoo boy there are a lot more asks than I was expecting lol Thank you for the prompt!
-
“So wait, you’ve never been Summoned? Not even once?” Tim looked up from the case he’d been working on, blinking in surprise behind his mask towards where Phantom was lounging lazily several feet above the floor.
“Nope.” Phantom said, popping the P as he shifted around in mid air, long tendril leaving a familiar mildly headache inducing after image behind him as he did.
Tim’s brow furrowed. “No offense, but you’re not exactly the most secretive member of the League. How have you managed to avoid any cults getting a hold of your name to try and do a summoning ritual to capture you?”
Phantom’s grin widened, long fangs glinting against pale blue tinged skin. “I haven’t.”
Across the room, Constantine went very still. Tim slid his gaze back towards the monitor before him, glancing towards the file he’d been reviewing for the case. Zantanna’s report on how summoning worked within the Infinite Realm. How power affected the odds of being able to successfully summon an entity. Odds for most beings from Phantom’s native realm were about 50/50 on a Summoning Ritual working to pull the being to them. Those odds got significantly less favorable for the summoners the stronger the entity got.
But the entity always knew when a summoning was being performed.
“Phantom.” Tim said, slowly, turning back to the grinning ghostly hero. “How many times have people tried to summon you?”
The ghost hmmed, “No idea. If we’re talking just today? …actually still no clue.” Phantom tilted his head, considering. “But since we started talking there’s been at least a thousand or so. It’s slowed down a bit over the last few minutes. Kinda nice.”
Constantine swore a blue streak impressive enough to put Jason to shame and stood, leaving the room in a haze of cigarette smoke and exasperated mutterings of I do not get paid bloody enough for this shit and honestly? Tim thinks he has a point.
Phantom smiles again.
Well, Tim considers, at least they won’t have to worry about him getting yanked in the middle of a battle.
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kedreeva · 1 month
Text
OC Askbox Game
I'm avoiding writing and you probably are too, so let's at least think about our characters while we do it.
You know the drill- send me a number (ONE number, you can come back for more) and I'll answer for an OC of your choice (if you know their name) or my choice (if you don't know their name). Feel free to name some of your OCs in the tags of your reblog, if you want to be asked about them.
How did you choose their name?
Were they created for the story, or was the story created for them?
Do they have a love interest, and was that their choice or yours?
Do they have a best friend? If so, how did they meet? If not, have they ever/why never?
Did they have a pet as a child?
What catalyzed their introduction to the plot?
What attribute of them (some facet of their personality, their history, their look, or whatever etc) would you find most important to somehow preserve if they were transplanted to an AU fanfic?
If your character's financial situation were to suddenly flip (someone poor becoming rich, someone rich becoming poor, etc), how well would they handle it? What would be the first thing they would do?
If your character could have handed their role in the plot to someone else, would they have?
Free Space #1: Which of your OCs would be most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse? Which would die immediately?
Does your character have a pet peeve?
Has your character committed any crimes (per their universe's laws)? If not, which crime would your character most likely commit?
Who is your character's closest (by relation, fondness, or distance) blood relative?
How does your character feel about riding horses (or your world's closest approximation of a horse if it lacks horses)?
Is your character's first instinct fight or flight? Is there something that could force them to do the opposite?
What is your character's favorite leisure activity?
Is your character holding any grudges? Are they likely to stop?
If your character were trapped on a deserted island, what three things would they want to have with them? Which person would they absolutely hate to be trapped there with? Which person would they enjoy being trapped there with?
Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?
Free Space #2: Which of your OCs would you most like to meet in person, if they could become real (or you could visit them) for a day?
Final Question: Ask me your own question about my OC
Remember: play nice! Send an ask to the person you reblogged this from, and try to send a few to folks that reblog from you!
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nibbelraz · 2 months
Note
sqq is mid
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Mobei Jun trying to express that his husband is better than Junshangs
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whump-kia · 6 months
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FEVERS. WHUMPEE BEING TOO OUT OF IT, THE UNCONTROLLABLE SHIVERING, HALLUCINATIONS, SWEATING, PALE SKIN, THE FEVER DREAMS, SKIN BEIN TOO SENSITIVE, WET CLOTHING/TOWEL(?) ON FOREHEAD.
JUST FEVERS.
FEVERS.
F E V E R S.
anon you're in for a doozy of a response because I LOVE this trope so much.
first of all--denial. "i'm fine". wearing too many layers in obliviousness or too little in an attempt to lower the temperature. dizzy spells leaving them with an elbow on the nearest support, shaking off the fatigue.
pair that with the forced acceptance--they stay zoned out for a minute too long, saying things that don't make sense, a paleness or flushed look just on the cheekbones and finally someone presses their forearm to the back of their neck and whispers, "you're burning up."
when they try to wait it out. leaning against doorframes, eyes closed, an unsteady breath. pacing to keep moving because if they stop for even a second they won't be able to stay standing. that hitch in the breath as it slowly gets worse until they're forced to go home and rest--or, better yet, collapse into the arms of a caretaker, mumbled apologies into their shoulder as they finally give in.
and finally the intensity of the caretaking--there's not much you can do with a low fever. body aches and constant shivering, muscle spasms and hot or cold flashes, lighter symptoms that develop into that weak moaning, heavy sheens of sweat, inability to get comfortable, so disoriented they can't open their eyes past the spinning of the room. when they're calling out for a loved one. when they shudder out that breathy "...sorry" to the caretaker. when they're forced into an ice bath and the sudden rush of pain leaving them crying out, even as the fever begins to recede.
FEVERS. anon you are so correct.
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sokkas-first-fangirl · 11 months
Note
If you’re still taking prompts, how about Eda taking bets with the other Owl House parents on which kids will be proposing first?
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"Willow," Darius said, like it should have been obvious. "Of course it'll be Willow."
"You're betting against our son?" Camila demanded, eyebrows raised.
"Yes," Darius said.
Alador nodded. "Yeah, my money's on Willow," he said.
Camila threw her hands up. "Am I the only one who has any faith in him!?" Camila vs Hunter's sort-of-dad and sort-of-step-dad; it wasn't a battle of wills that Eda expected, but it was one she enjoyed watching.
"I agree," Perry said. "I'd say Willow."
Raine looked contemplative. They hummed, tapping a rhythm on the table, but didn't offer a side yet.
"Actually, I side with Camila," Lilith said slowly. She looked like she was thinking hard. Weighing the pros and cons would be Eda's bet. "Hunter is shyer than Willow, but he loves her dearly and he's brave. He can be very determined. I can see him proposing."
Darius and Alador exchanged dubious glances. Camila smiled smugly.
"Well, what about Luz and Amity?" Raine asked, tapping their chin.
"Luz," Camila and Eda said.
"Amity," Lilith said.
"Honestly, considering their track record, I expect them both to propose on the same day," Alador said with a shrug. "Or they'll try to anyway. Hopefully without Hooty's involvement this time."
"Is something wrong with Hootsifer?" Lilith demanded.
"You don't want me to answer that."
"Okay," Darius cut in quickly. "What about Gus and Matt?"
Perry snorted. "They'll need to actually date first," he said. "And my hair will be entirely grey by the time those boys sort themselves out. They're both painfully oblivious."
"Are they still calling it a rivalry?" Camila asked sympathetically.
"Unfortunately," Perry sighed.
Alador snorted into his apple blood. Eda gave him and Darius her most shit-eating grin.
"Yeah," Darius sighed. "We'll all be waiting a while on those two."
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