#A very angry wet kitten

[legendaryevokercupcake]

I'm stuck between interpreting Kalecgos as all knowing and all powerful Aspect, giant building-destroying lizard, awkward gangly lizard, and very small female ginger cat.

IDFK he just seems like a little ball of pure rage sometimes. Like, ya man found out that his ex created a woman who he then fell in love with and his response was to attempt to murder said ex, despite the fact that killing that ex would result in the wrath of that ex's current partner, who could set him on fire.

It's like how my tiny ginger kitty tries to fight our large black cat despite the fact that the black cat's human (not me, lmao, Grace only loves him) will get angry at her.

This makes Khadgar my high anxiety keeshond with no chill who is the real owner of the smol floofball EDIT: RIP Grace (large black cat), we miss you :(

[dykealloy]

enraged small creature noises

[jupiter-reimagined]

shoutout to brutus by the buttress for just existing and being casually the most relatable gender song out there for me, even if im pretty sure that was not the intention but damn is it doing something. i could write a whole essay about how i personally relate to it

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I CRUMBLE COMPLETELY WHEN YOU CRY ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.

word count; 6.2k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really that’s literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33

a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) 🙏🙏 i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me

you’re cold.

little shivers run through your body, trail down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt — a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and all you manage is a weak jolt.

dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents — wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path. little petals, glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.

it’d be comforting, were it not for one simple fact; 

you don’t have an umbrella.

at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, you’re absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it — you were stupid to think you’d get out of it unscathed. your shoes are ruined, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead.

you let out a shuddering breath. 

gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguru’s warnings over breakfast, despite all those dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. you just felt so helpless.

you just couldn’t stay there.

some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.

so, yeah, maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you weren’t thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green. 

(he put it there just for you.)

maybe you weren’t thinking much at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between; that fact only adds to the sting of his cold voice, still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.

you were just worried. is that so awful? 

(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)

a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated, undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, feeling this bitter, hate feeling like you’ve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him — hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary. 

it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are, when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, and your eyes were already turning glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone is enough to make you feel like you’ve done nothing right all your life.

so you left. because that was all you could do. 

sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and you’re awfully cold — but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know he’d try to soothe you, know he’d feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing. 

(all the more pathetic.)

so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasn’t been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still haven’t fully calmed down. you still don’t know how to face him. but —

but fuck, it’s cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does. 

another sigh — more resigned this time — slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, you’re almost certain you’re going to catch a cold, and it’s getting late. you’re all alone, and it’s raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless. 

you want to go home.

it’ll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow — without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe you’ll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.

you’re just too tired to argue anymore.

he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguru’s been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.

but he just brushed you off.

and, well, maybe you should’ve backed off after that. maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign that suguru didn’t feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.

suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you don’t need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk — and it’s frustrating, but you’ve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.

but then he grew frustrated.

”suguru… you’ve been working so much, i’m —” you bite down on your bottom lip. ”i’m just worried that you’re overdoing it.” ”… god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].” ”but — you just look so tired —” ”well, i’m sorry for that.” a cold smile. ”am i not living up to your expectations?”

(that’s not what you meant. he knows that’s not what you meant.)

and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden. 

pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection you’re so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.

pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.

god, you’re exhausted. you just want to sleep — can’t you have that, at least? just that one thing? you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, don’t mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while. 

your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel — 

while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples. 

and you’re there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.

for a second, you hesitate.

maybe he’s still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe you’re just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just —

but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.

and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.

you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie — heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.

in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away. 

almost, because it’d be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.

and before you can think the thought to do anything else, you’ve locked eyes with him — arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.

(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)

not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you can’t really read his expression — you’re a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.

you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.

and then he’s walking away again. 

crestfallen. that’s probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.

it hurts. you want to cry. you can’t help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happen… 

another part was still hoping he’d be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again might’ve fixed everything.

but he didn’t even give you that.

that’s that, then. there’s nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. you’ll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. you’ll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrow’s you to handle. 

for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you don’t have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything. 

you don’t have to think about him at all. 

(don’t think. don’t think. don’t —)

— the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.

a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.

once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify —

worry.

(ah.)

before you can say anything, he’s draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you can’t help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.

”are you cold?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. ”you’re soaked…”

suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way he’s caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.

and, more than anything, the feeling of suguru’s big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you can’t help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you don’t stay perfectly still, just like this.

it’s soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.

you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ”nah, ’m fine…”

the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguru’s brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.

(he hates how small you look. like you’re curling in on yourself.)

as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because that’s what always happens after the two of you argue — which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper. 

he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed out…

he could only feel guilty.

and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back. 

and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.

(you didn’t bring an umbrella.)

suguru waited. that was all he could do. 

he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you — scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you weren’t answering his calls, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you, didn’t want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.

so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly — and that was all he needed. 

and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.

like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.

it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with —

and now he’s here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother. 

suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that you’ll take the bait.

(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)

so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; he’d make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skin…

he failed at maintaining his composure.

he needs to make it up to you. despite everything — even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame — he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.

”hang on,” he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. ”i’ll go draw you a bath…”

”ah — no need,” you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you don’t really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. ”i’ll just take a quick shower.”

suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely —

but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad. 

”… okay. got it.”

perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way you’ll allow, like always, but he thinks it’s worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.

”i can make you tea?” he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.

but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.

”tea would be great, thank you.”

you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. ”i’ll just take a shower in the meantime,” you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go. 

he swallows thickly.

(that’s that, then.)

tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? he’ll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.

suguru’s mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldn’t help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.

caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom — stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.

only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.

you’re clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie — his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards — the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric. 

seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguru’s chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he can’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly he’s almost sure you notice it.

”i made peppermint,” he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. ”that okay?”

”yeah,” you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. you’d have been fine with anything, really.

the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, that’s all you need. 

with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.

(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually you’d sit right next to him. but now you’re in front of him, so very far — as if you’re strangers.

it breaks his heart, a little bit.)

a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea — all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. it’s relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.

suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.

finally, he opts to clear his throat — and your attention falls on him instantly.

”hey,” he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. ”about before…”

your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. there’s a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguru’s tone of voice — and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesn’t make it any less harrowing.

here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.

with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort. 

(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)

”it’s fine, suguru,” you cut him off. softly, but there’s a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. ”we can just drop it.”

the decision in his eyes doesn’t waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when you’re undoubtedly tired — but suguru’s mind is set. he’s been evasive enough, today.

”no. i want to talk about it properly.”

at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he won’t allow you to wriggle away, now that you’re both finally calm. he’s not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of ”winning” the argument — he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.

communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.

and you do, too.

so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.

(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)

suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.

”i had a lot of time to think while you were gone,” he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.

you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.

”and i realized that you were right.”

…

you blink. once, then twice.

hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguru’s gaze. he isn’t looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.

he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.

it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. he’s had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited. 

so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.

”i’m always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thing…” another sigh. ”you were just worried. i shouldn’t have lashed out — you didn’t deserve that.”

suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but they’re warm, remorseful. a setting sun.

”i’m sorry.”

a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology. 

and suddenly, you feel silly — silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldn’t spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.

suguru can be stubborn, if he’s convinced that he’s in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective. 

and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didn’t do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.

suguru isn’t perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get — for you, for the both of you. he’s considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. that’s how much he loves you. 

and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground — how could you ever bear not to do the same?

”… it’s fine,” you start, softly. ”maybe i overreacted a bit. ’s just —” a gulp. you’re trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.

and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.

”i don’t like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, but…” your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. ”you know.”

and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.

”i know,” he murmurs, softly. ”it wasn’t an overreaction. i just didn’t realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,” a sharp exhale leaves his lips. ”it’s been… a long week. i’m not using that as an excuse, though.”

you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.

to let you take care of him.

suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks — a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this — but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what he’s trying to say. 

so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.

”i’m grateful that i have you,” he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. ”and that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.”

and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when it’s subtle. this was no exception. you’re always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.

but he’ll make up for all of that, starting now.

”i mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea — i’m so sorry if i made you think otherwise.” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. ”i really, really am.”

(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently —

how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)

you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart. 

”… i was just worried,” you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks. 

”i know,” suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. ”i was being immature. you were right — i’ve been burning myself out.”

you don’t say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.

”i was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. ”what do you say?”

you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguru’s patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.

”that’d be nice…” you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that it’s exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.

a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms. 

”then i will.”

for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs — that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink. 

oh. 

you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguru’s eyes — and then you finally get up from your seat.

it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still can’t help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but it’s suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.

and you want that more than anything. 

so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.

it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss — happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everything’s finally alright.

and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and you’re so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that he’s more than happy to provide.

how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back — but in the midst of all the paperwork and stress…

suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.

”and i’m sorry for neglecting you, too,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.

that certainly gets your attention.

”neglecting me?” you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. ”wha — what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didn’t neglect me.”

suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.

”well, i’m sorry for not being around much, then. i’ll make it up to you. okay?”

hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguru’s heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.

and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. it’s soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguru’s embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen — it’d be impossible not to relax.

before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.

”you sleeping, baby?”

you jolt a little in his arms — murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.

”c’mon. let’s get you to bed, hm?” 

suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. ”there we go,” he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. ”you can sleep, angel. i’ve got you.”

your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. you’ll coddle him all day.

but for now, you need to get some rest.

allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when you’re in his steady grasp.

a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.

you don’t miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.

[thesassypadawan]

Birthday Boy (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: It’s your man’s birthday! A day filled with all the love, presents, and…special ‘treats’.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Birthday head and, as always… Hayden’s big, fat dick.

Notes: Happy Birthday, Hay! 💙🤍

And also Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

- It’s Hayden’s birthday! One of the few days during the year when you can spoil him totally rotten…and he can’t object or complain.

- You always make it into a big deal. Showering him with love and affection. Making his fav foods. Getting him so many thoughtful presents. Planning all sorts of little surprises and special ‘treats’…that you just so happen to enjoy too.

- The sound of your alarm fills the air, and your arm flies out from underneath the covers. Hand fumbling for your phone, trying to silence it before a moose starts to stir.

- Luckily, you’re successful and no harm was done. Because you can hear the soft snores echoing out from behind you.

- Yawning, you try to blink yourself awake. You had set it with the intention of getting up early enough to prepare him breakfast in bed. But having that deliciously warm body pressed up against and those strong arms wrapped around you…

- A sleepy smile spreads across your face and your eyes begin to close. Until you feel a very hard, very familiar something poke your backside. And suddenly you’re no longer going with the original plan. Instead you’re opting for the new, amazing one you just thought up.

- Somehow you not only manage to untangle yourself from Hay, but you’re also able to get him to lay on his back. From there you make quick work of removing the sheets and pulling down his sleep pants. Cock springing free and standing proud.

- Positioning yourself between his toned legs, lips hovering barely a few inches above his dick. You pause a moment, making sure he’s still asleep by whispering… “Oi, Big Dork; Leafs suck.”

- Nothing. Not an angry grumble or eyes cracking open to glare at you. Nothing.

- Boldly you kitten lick his fat tip, happily lapping up that first salty bead of pre. Before popping it into your mouth, rolling your tongue around and sucking gently. Teasing at and playing with his slit until more of that bittersweet goodness explodes across your taste buds.

- Moaning softly, the vibrations cause Hayden to shift a bit. But you chose to ignore this, taking more of him in. That slight, pleasant ache in your jaw making you pant through your nose, your own arousal spiking. Cunt clenching around nothing, dripping…soaking through your panties.

- Bobbing your head up and down, you set a steady pace. Lips and hand wrapped tightly around his impressive length, adding more friction as you pump. Teeth nipping and grazing at him lightly.

- You’re so caught up that you don’t hear the low groan, but you certainly feel the big hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Those long fingers lacing through your hair, tugging.

- With his cock still nice and warm in your mouth, you not so innocently gaze up at him. Hay’s blue eyes are blown so wide, a lazy smile on his face. “Happy Birthday to me,” he chuckles, voice raspy from sleep.

- Humming, you swallow him greedily. Head brushing and hitting the back of your throat. Trying your best to not choke, fighting the urge not to gag.

- “That’s it,” he grunts. Pulling harder, hips starting to slowly buck. “Keep Going.”

- Driven by his words and that wonderful burn on your scalp, you double your efforts. Picking up speed, you match his rhythm. Baring down, letting him slide deeper with each thrust. Squeezing and playing with his heavy balls.

- First you feel his dick twitch, then his thighs begin to tremble, and…

- Growling, Hayden shot his hot cum down your throat. Curses falling from his lips while you hungrily drink every last drop.

- Releasing him with a wet sounding pop, you eagerly crawl on top of and straddle him. “Happy Birthday, Hay!” You giggle, grinning and wiggling like crazy…some of his ‘frosting’ trickling down your chin. “Today it’s all about you and-”

- A squeak escapes you as your suddenly flipped over. Back pressed against the mattress, caged in by his arms. Tip pushing at your drenched core.

- “Thanks for the gift, angel,” the birthday boy smirks, hand slowly trailing down your hip. “I’ll open it right now.” And with one quick movement, tares off your panties.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[gilverrwrites]

Hellooo! I was reading a fic and this idea was integrated in my mind because of that.

Dick with someone who never touched herself and slowly guiding/talking to her through it

Sex on the phone; beats orgasming alone

Dick Grayson/Reader, 2K AN: I may have taken some liberties here, but I thought this was such a cute idea! Tbh 90% of my Dick requests are for him to be a gentle guiding hand, and I wanna write them all so bad. Dick would be such a good first-anything. CWs: Teasing, swearing, pet-names/very mild name-calling

“Will you let me do this for you?” His voice is like honey, soft and sweet, trickling through the phone and making you feel all warm and fuzzy. This hadn’t been his intention upon calling you, heck, he almost felt bad waking you from your slumber, but he missed you. It had been a rough day, and he needed to hear your voice. The sound of your sleepy drawl had quickly eased his nerves, but the more his body relaxed, the more he found himself craving something else from you. That’s how he’s descended to laying it on thick, itching for your permission to guide you through your first (partly) self-attained orgasm. “Please? You know I only want to make you feel good.”

By the time your quiet “Okay, Dick. Let’s do it.” comes he’s already lazily fisting his cock, having not even bothered to take off his boxers. He’s already rock hard, heart racing at the idea, but he wants to savour this, make sure you enjoy it, so he deliberately keeps his rhythm slow, stopping to massage his thumb against his head whenever you speak. “How do we start?”

“Slow down, princess. What are you wearing?”

“Dick!” You groan, tone laced with a giggle. His first goal is to get you completely relaxed, and he knows laughter is the best way to do it. Plus, your goofy chuckles are like music to his ears. “I’m wearing your Hudson U shirt and the blue panties.”

“The Milan ones?” Fuck. That image would be ingrained in his head until he saw you again. Probably until he died. “Oh baby, that’s hot but they’ve gotta go.”

You laugh again, the sound of it combined with the rustle of your clothes being tossed away is enough to have him squirming, heady as he imagines you stripping off for him, laying back against your pillows and giving him those come-hither eyes. A drop of precum seeps from his tip and he hums down the phone as he spreads it down his length.

“Dick, are you already touching yourself?” You accuse with no real malice. He loves it when you play angry, you’re like a kitten without any claws.

“Can’t help it, you get me so worked up.” He answers shamelessly, pressing the cell between his ear and shoulder as he finally shifts out of his own underwear, putting you on a level playing field. “Catch up. Start right at the top, run your finger through your lips.”

Your already heavy breaths grow deeper, but otherwise, you give no indication that you’re following his instructions beyond his blind faith in you.

“Did you do it?” He prompts, chest trembling when you answer him with a strained and racy; “Yeah.”

He always forgets just how pornographic your normally innocuous voice gets when you’re being his dirty girl.

“Are you all wet down there?” He bites his lip, eagerly anticipating your response; an equally raunchy “Yes, Dick!”

“Good, good. Put another finger in there and get them all slick for me, yeah?”

“Then what?” If he could have his way completely, he’d tell you to stick the phone down there too so he could hear the soaked, sticky sound of your fingers swirling around in all your wetness. All the wetness he’d caused. But that might be a tad too vulgar for your first time.

“Then rub your fingers back up.” He internally counts to five. “Then back down, over and over. Push down harder when you touch your clit. Are you doing that?”

A quiet moan rings in his ears, which he assumes means ‘yes’. Your soft whimpering catches at the sound of him spitting. He moistens the palm of his hand before stroking it against the head of his cock in sweeping motions, closing his eyes and pretending he’s rubbing himself between your hot folds, basking in the lewd fantasy, wishing he could slide into your tight pussy and fuck some real noise out of you. Wishing he could feel your sweat-slick skin on his as he kisses you something desperate and fucks you dumb.

“Now speed up, rub fast little circles on your clit, okay?”

“Okay~” Your pretty voice goes up an octave with every new instruction, a sign that you’re touching yourself just right.

“You’re a natural baby, you won’t need me soon.”

“No! I need you!” Your whine of retaliation might just be the cutest thing he’s ever heard. He never considered himself a cruel man until he was faced with many opportunities to tease you and mercilessly pounced on every single one.

“Need me? Need me to what?”

“Need you to make me feel good.” When he gets home, he’s gonna make you feel more than good, he thinks. He’s gonna fuck you so long and hard you won’t be able to sit for a month. He’s gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name, so fast and deep all you’ll be able to say is ‘Dick, Dick, Dick!’

“Don’t you feel good already?”

“I do, I do. Because of you, nobody makes me feel the way you do.” Logically, he knows this, but that doesn’t stop your statement from making his already heated body feel flush with pride. He rewards himself by jerking his cock faster, harder. Just until his balls start to feel tight.  

“Because of me.” He parrots back, not to mock or play but to stroke his own ego and give his nonplussed brain a second to think. “Gonna make you feel a thousand times better when I get back to you baby, but now I need you to do something else.”

“Anything!” You don’t hesitate, he wonders what else he could get your needy self to promise to right now if he wanted.

“Put me on loudspeaker, you’re gonna need both hands.”

It takes a second, he can hear you pawing at the screen, clearly not in full control of your muscles right now, until you both hear the beep of the right button being pressed. There's more muffled movements, as you find a place to put the phone down before you bring him up to speed. “I’m ready, Dick. Tell me what to do.”

“Put a finger in that pretty cunt for me, fuck yourself, but don’t stop rubbing your clit either.” The little cry of frustration you release sends a shock down his shaft which he chases with his fingers straight to the base. Setting him off pumping at a rapid pace, he knows he won’t be able to hold off much longer, but he’s determined not to cum until you’re right there with him. “How you are doing, angel?”

“Feels better when you do it.” You answer, factual but weak. He knows you’re not complaining, just missing his body as much as he misses yours.

“I know, you want my long fingers inside you, don’t you? Or my cock? Spreading your juicy little pussy, filling you in all the right places.” You reply with a chant of yes yes yeses, and it has him rolling his head back, jutting his hips, reflexively fucking into his hand and babbling down the phone to try to bite back his climax. “Use another finger, two more, fuck, whatever you can take, do it.”

The line goes quiet save the soft sound of you shuffling around on the bed, the feint sound of your hands slapping against your core, and the heavenly sound of your cooing and moaning through the phone speaker for him. Your lusty voice fuels the clumsy, desperate jerking of his cock. He closes his eyes, imagining the slick pump of his hand is your body around him, riding him through his pleasure. He remembers how you look above him, bouncing and panting, pleading with him to fuck you raw. There was once a time when you’d been too shy to utter a word during sex, but he’d put in the work, learned how to make you yap for him like a noisy bitch in heat.  

“Dick, I think I’m gonna cum.” At once his cock twitches, begging for release and he sucks in a breath that catches in his throat causing him to cough out a pathetic strangled noise that he hopes sounds like a laugh to you. “Fuck, please, Dick I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, be a good girl and cum for me. Don’t hold back, I wanna hear you.” He means all of it, unable to hold his tongue, endlessly spouting whatever filth his heart desires. It’s all he can do to hold on for an extra few seconds. “Come on baby, you can do it.”

You howl out a mouthwatering lament, calling his name like a prayer and he hopes with every shaking bone in his body that you’re seeing stars right now because there isn’t a force on earth that can keep him from spilling his cum all over the hotel bed. If he’d had the forethought, he would have mustered up something to say, walked you through it, but instead, he’s grunting and swearing down the phone like a damn animal, even a thousand miles apart you bring something feral out of him.

When he finally comes back down to earth all he can say is; “Fuck, you drive me insane with how hot you are.”

“Me?” You answer with half-dramatized incredulously, your voice audibly drained by your orgasm. “That was all you.”

“That was mostly you, I just told you how to do it.” Perfectly in sync, he hears the creaking and shuffling of your mattress as he rolls over to find something to clean up with. It’s hard to enjoy the post-nut glow without you to distract him from the cum soaking into the sheets, you’re hopefully thinking the same. “So how was that, you know, for your first?”

“Amazing Dick, but I still prefer the real thing.” Your flattery has never failed to get you anywhere with him, and he feels his cheeks growing warm at your praise. One day he’ll put a ring on your finger, and he’ll probably still blush if you compliment his wedding suit.  

“That’s a relief, hope that means you’ll keep me around a bit longer.”

“You’re stuck with me.” Your scoff is interrupted by a loud yawn, which reminds him to check the time. He woke you in the middle of the night and had kept you up for over an hour. Really, he should feel guilty, but the selfish part of him regrets no part of this. He’d needed to hear you, and he’s glad he called, if only because it gave him the chance to experience another first with you. He’s delighted by your willingness to let him coach you through this, proud of himself for making it an enjoyable escapade, and hopeful for the opportunity to keep doing stuff like this with you. He wants to be your first, and your last.

“I should probably let you get back to sleep.” He muses, pleased by the sleepy sigh you give him in response.

“Will you stay on the phone till I drift off?” He couldn’t say no to you if he wanted.

“Is that even a question?” It's his turn to fake offence. “Have I ever left you high and dry like that?”

“Never.” That’s right. Sure, he’s had to skip out on an urgent mission a few times, but he’s never left you wanting more when he can help it. He only wishes now that he could be close to you. He wants to wrap you up in his arms and snuggle you into your sheets. Wants to put his head on your chest and listen to you breathing until you’re snoring down his ear. God, he even loves your snoring. Jason’s right, he is whipped.

“Want me to sing Golden Slumbers to you.”

“Never ever.” Rude, maybe he doesn’t love your snoring! Not after a comment like that.

“Too late; Once, there was a way…”

[sassycheesecake]

It’s a beautiful day during the fall season, the different pretty colors of the leaves that have been changed after summer was over, fall into the cold ground.

Two individuals, one man, with hair as dark as the midnight sky and a woman, drop-dead gorgeous, rest underneath a Japanese Maple tree. But they are not just any individuals.

The 6'3 tall man named Kiyoomi Sakusa, is secretly a yakuza member of the Jackals, one of the most feared mafia groups in Japan. The woman however, is a mere citizen but also the lover of said man. Sakusa took some time off his job to spend it with you instead, Meian thankfully granting him the request.

Collecting bounties and income, smashing a few heads and breaking some bones here and there, Sakusa is a ruthless, cold-blooded hunter when it comes to his position in the yakuza. To you however, he is the most sweet and softest puppy dog.

Sakusa is just relaxing with his head on your lap with his eyes closed, when he felt a very light weight on his head.

Opening one of his dark orbs, he sees that you placed something upon his dark curls, adjusting it as you focus highly on your task.

"What did you put on my head, my love?" He asks you, opening his other eye now as he looks at you with a breathtaking smile.

You’re quiet for a few seconds, when you gaze back into his dark eyes.

"A gift. Now you look even more handsome." You gush at him, blushing slightly at seeing his one-in-a-million-smile that just you get to see.

Sakusa chuckles lightly at your words, reaching up to find out what you placed on his dark curls only to get his tattooed hand slapped away from you.

"Ow. Why did you slap my hand away?" He pouts as he rubs his hand over the one you slapped, even though it barely hurt him.

"I just spent an eternity making you a magnificent flower crown and placed it on your unruly, complicated black curls, if you even move a single millimeter you will ruin my perfect placement." You scold him while waving a finger in his face.

"I didn’t know an eternity in your language means five minutes."

Sakusa snatches your hand and brings it to his face, pretending to bite it.

You screech in fear while quickly pulling your hand out of his and the ravenette chuckles darkly at your action.

"That’s what you get for trying to bark orders at me, you little germ." His hand finds yours again, intertwining your fingers with his big, slender ones. And you remember, that these fingers carry lots of blood on them, yet you don’t care. If anything, it makes Sakusa even hotter than he already is. And he is yours alone, as much as you are his.

"What? I can’t bark orders at you but Meian can?" You arch in eyebrow in annoyance.

"Yes." He bluntly states as he continues to look up at you.

"And why’s that?" You pry further.

"Because Meian pays my bills and he is my boss." Sakusa explains as if he’s talking to a toddler.

"What if I were your boss? Would you listen to me then?" You make a cute face, batting your eyelashes at him.

"No." Your lover disagrees.

"WHAT?!"

"I wouldn’t be able to take you seriously. And I don’t think any of the guys would. You’re too cute and you have the face of an angry wet kitten whenever you are mad at me." Sakusa explains with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"Also. I know that Miya and Joffe keep eyeing you whenever they think I am not looking. And I could smash their skulls through the nearest wall whenever I see them do that. You’re already a distraction to me. Imagine the chaos if you have more guys than me thirsting after you." Sakusa adds with a grumble, as he crosses his arms across his chest.

"Awww look at you, Mr.Big-Bad-I-Beat-Up-People-For-A-Living-Kiyoomi Sakusa. What will those poor people think of you when they find out you’re a big fat softie underneath all those tattoos and that mean scowl of yours?" You tease him, laughing at his scowl that’s directed at you.

"Don’t call me a big fat softie in front of the others. They won’t live to tell the tale." Sakusa closes his eyes again, snuggling more into your thighs.

"Not even Miya?" He can almost hear the grin in your voice.

"Especially not Miya." The man mumbles as he starts to drift off.

[alienoresimagines]

Honestly, Crank is such a mood and might just be my MOTA spirit animal

Exhibit A : He is just so done, all of the time it's so funny

1) "What I get a passenger?" Sassy Crank who then decided to sleep through the rest of the briefing because if he has Bucky the Yapper on his plane, he will need the extra sleep if they both want to make it alive to Algeria

2) Any sequence where he is flying and Bucky's behind him and/or asking for updates on Buck. The way he just... closes his eyes like he's praying a higher deity to take the Yapper of his plane before answering is so funny. I don't know if it's because of Bucky's poorly hidden attempt at making it look like he's not asking after Buck specifically by saying "the stagglers" and Crank realising exactly why Bucky "couldn't skip this one" or simply because he's just been through hell and the war wife that yapped his way on his plane won't stop asking is he's a war widow yet but it's funny. Reminds me of a parent who just wants some sleep but their kid keeps asking questions.

3) His "Oh that makes me feel better" when the mechanic tells him of the plane's condition ("won't go very far but you won't need it" because Münster isn't far and not because Crank gets shot down not 20 minutes later mind you). I know he was probably still angry and bitter after his altercation with Bucky and the fact that Crank does Not agree with the mission's order but I just love him. He reminds me of a cranky, wet kitten

Exhibit B : He is hella competent

Every pilot is good, that's a fact. There hasn't been much focus on the pilots except for the Buckies (even though we've never seen Bucky in the left seat except that one time he was smoking in it during his war widow era), Rosie and Curt (a bit of Brady and Blakely too) so there isn't much to say about Crank specifically. BUT when Bucky, lead pilot, goes down, Crank immediately takes the lead to avoid formation going into chaos like was the case during the Bremen mission ("There was a lot of confusion when lead (Buck and DeMarco) went down, it was chaos"). And don't forget that he flew through the Regensburg mission, which was absolute hell!

Exhibit C : He is Not Afraid to speak his mind or call people on their bs

1) Him being the one to ask Bucky how he managed to be put on the Regensburg mission while very clearly already having an idea, only confirmed by Bucky's vague answer

2) Famous moment but his confrontation with Bucky (and Brady) about the Münster mission. Nobody mentioned Buck to Bucky, except Ken, but no one really mentioned the fact that the Münster mission was a revenge mission. Everybody knew it but there was that fear that mentioning Buck would set Bucky off so nobody did. But Crank does, because Buck was also his friend and so is Bucky and neither of them would have approved or encouraged the mission if they'd been here/in their right mind.

Look at the devastation on his face when Bucky tells him that "it's a war and it won't end until they hit them where it hurts". That's the face of someone seeing a friend absolutely drowning in grief turning to revenge to cope.

So Crank says "None of the people we're going to bomb today shot down Buck" and he sees the look in Bucky's eyes and knows that he may have hit the bull's eye, but it was the wrong move. Only accentuated by the fact that Bucky then makes Crank call him "sir" something that he has never done before, clearly separating himself from his friends and Crank understands that this isn't really Bucky, at least not the one he knows. Buck may have been the only one to go down but the truth is, the 100th had already lost the two Buckies

Exhibit D : He loves his people soooo much

1) The hug he gives Dougie when the goblin fort crew comes back from the dead??? Just looking at that hug I could feel how warm and comforting it was. Crank is one of the best huggers of the 100th I bet. Also Dougie being taken aback at the force of the hug that he has to take a few steps back?? Can you imagine how good and relieved Crank must have felt after losing so many friends but, just this time, one crew came back and intel was wrong, they weren't dead!! They came back!!

See Gif below :

Look at his face when he goes to hug Dougie, he can't believe he gets to see them again 🥺

2) The grief on his face when he comes back from Bremen? Not having the words to say Buck went down because they all thought that no one bailed out and the entire crew was dead? He just shakes his head in defeat. All he can think about is that they lost Buck but someone will have to tell Bucky that he lost Buck. Look at his face and tell me he didn't know it'd destroy Bucky.

3) Him calling for Bucky at the fence when the latter arrived at the Stalag. The pure joy and relief on his face ("You made it!!!"), so overwhelming that he has to take his beanie off because he arrived at the Stalag and Bucky wasn't there and he didn't arrive even days after Crank. And if Crank arrived before Brady did, then he must have thought that the entire crew was dead because he saw them go down, even took the lead afterwards. But then Brady arrived, and Bucky wasn't there and that couldn't be because if Bucky's dead then the last time Crank had ever seen him it'd been in anger and for all Crank disagreed with the mission, Bucky's his friend. But then Bucky comes and Crank is so relieved because Bucky's alive and the Buckies are back together so everything will be fine and Crank's with his friends again.

In conclusion, I love my cranky but affectionate Crank from New England, he deserves more appreciation, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

P.s.: I haven't seen MOTA post ep 6 so this post might be edited if the last 3 episodes give me Crank content :)

[paymechildsupport]

"Sink your teeth in me"... // Heian!Sukuna x Reader

He just wants one... teeny tiny bite...

-!! Unsanitary, cannibalism used as a literal form for "love", slight body horror, food play (in a way), Sukuna is genuinely so kitten coded ┍━☽【❖】☾━┑

----- -- ------ ■━■━■━■ ------- -----

He likes food-- eating is canonically his favorite pastime

So what if in the past he got a lil carried away, -- took a lil nibble, a quant chomp outta your flesh? He's entitled to that much, right? I mean, you should feel honored, the King of Curses deemed you as something fit to eat-- that doesn't just happen to anyone now

Back in the Heian Era, he may just stop by your humble abode from time to time, grace you with his presence like the benevolent creature he is.

You're all bloody, and it's not even yours. You feel sick, the tangy taste of bile boiling in the back of your throat, the metallic smell of blood invading your nose. You were going to be sick

But don't worry! Sukuna will be more than happy to clean you up himself-- he's just a nice guy like that.

The river? No, silly! His tongue is a much more adequate bath for you, -- and good thing he has so much of it. Embracing you, cleansing you of the stains of his sins, he'll hold you as he laps the blood from your skin. It may take quite a bit, only working from the top down, -- which is why you're in luck because it so happens that he can always just spawn more! Mouths on each of his four hands, latching on and suckling on tender skin wherever he grabbed, as if you were some fine candy. You yelp, feeling the large, wet mass of the mouth on his stomach. Usually just a simple slit in his torso, you vastly underestimated how big the thing actually was. Its tongue swipes out, licking its lips, smearing Sukuna's saliva all over his own stomach. He couldn't care less. The warm, pink muscle snakes out, swiping a long, wet line all the way up your back, ripping a shudder from your body. You were so slick with his spit, your skin had a watery sheen to it, -- god he was so sloppy with it, making such a huge mess of himself and you, but that was always half the fun, the obscene provocative nature of the act what made it so appealing in the first place. You were so pretty, skin all red and angry from him licking it raw, your entire figure littered with adoring marks. He just loved you like this, laid bare and shivering in his arms, dripping with his spit-- you were so vulnerable, so trusting to leave yourself in such a compromising position at his feet, perfect for the taking. He would ravish you.

He'll start with a lil' kiss, -- something cute. Just a wee lil' sample. Maybe you'll even get more than one, a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your neck down to your collarbone. You wouldn't mind if he took a little lick, right? Just like a kitten, little careful swipes of his tongue, licking up your spine. You just taste very sweet, he jus' wanna taste some of his beloved human some more, -- because he loves his darling fleshbag human. He adores you so, simply just indulge this for him. He'd start to take small nips at the soft flesh of your neck, his sharp, elongated canines teasing over your jugular..... nahh, he wouldn't do that to you. He'd relish in your slight spike of adrenaline at the immanent death poking at your windpipe-- he quite literally has you in his jaws, -- like a little rabbit in the jaws of a big bad wolf. He's practically drooling, thin strings of his saliva drip down into the crook of your neck. His breaths are long and almost labored, each exhale sending a resounding shudder throughout his body, pressed at your back. He's starving, you the five-course meal that's gonna fill this empty void of his stomach. Certainly, you can't deny him this, this tiny small thing. He takes the skin over your shoulders between his teeth, sucking softly. Just a lil' more, that's all he needs, just one more small bite, you're doing so well for him. Drops of blood peek out from the indents made from his sharp fangs, which he eagerly laps at. Just a lil' more... yeah, just like that, let him gnaw at your shoulder, -- you just taste so good he almost can't control himsel-- oh, there go your shoulder blades, whoops

He really didn't meaaaaaan to, honestly :( you're just so good- you can't blame him for getting carried away-- I mean, it is technically your fault for tasting so damn delectable. He wanted your heart, and he'd tear it out with his teeth if he had to. You just bring out that animalistic side in him, -- hunger is the main utility for survival, afterall. Even the most simplest of organisms have to feed on something. He loved you like a wolf, a ravenous wolf who just came across their next meal-- snarling and slobbering and so, so messy

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┕━☽【❖】☾━┙

[delaber]

Firestarter pt. 2 (Loki x Reader)

Summary: After two months of amazing hate-fucking, Loki accidentally lets his newfound feelings show - and suddenly, the anger’s back in her eyes. Only this time, she has the upper hand.

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, pining

Words: 5K

Find part 1 here

"Yessss that's it," he hisses and smacks her ass.

It's two months later and they're still at it - not every night, but almost.

He'd otherwise feared it a one time thing with the way she'd so quickly recovered the first night after he'd pulled three astonishing orgasms out of her, but had been positively thrilled to find her yelling at him on his doorstep the very next evening. He honestly cannot even remember what he did to upset her that much, but he knows it must've made her really angry because he vividly remembers three minutes later with his hands full of ass and his tongue buried inside of her.

She's calmed down since then; he doesn't have to provoke her to get her wet anymore but they still fuck like it's the end of the world.

It's the rawest, dirtiest, most destructive sex he's ever had and it's magnificent, carnal, rough! He slaps her ass as hard as he can, eats her beautiful cunt, forces his fingers inside of her until she screams his name, lets her tie him up while she tastes all of him.

It's been two secretive months of bite marks and purple tints on his skin. Of long, red scratches down his back and raven-black hair being pulled out in the most delicious of ways.

She - is - incredible! He wants to cum - fuck, she deserves the praise!

He lets her know.

"Fuck me, Loki," she hisses his name the way that he loves and it sends tingles all the way down to his balls, makes his head float up to the heavens.

"As you please," he flips them around, lies her down on her back, towers over her and admires her pliant body with his hand caressing down over her soft stomach. He still cannot believe he's this lucky!

He pushes himself back inside of her with force, watches her sweet little face contract with pleasure as her mouth falls open in an inaudible sigh.

"Darling girl," he hisses and feels her tighten around him as he diligently slides into her silk. "You feel amazing!" He leans forwards, pinches her beautiful nipple, sucks on her jawline, ruts hit hips against her to the vulgar sound of her hypnotising wetness swallowing him whole.

"Oh," she moans and he almost shivers when her eyelids close halfway with every meticulously-placed thrust of his hips while he moves with control, careful not to let go and cut the moment short - he never has her afterwards...

"Loki," she hums ever so sweetly in his ear, scrapes her nails down over his already raw-clawed shoulder blades, wraps her legs around his back, contracts around him while he's concentrating on the entirety that is her.

He saved her, he thinks to himself and gasps when his seidr begins to glow at the memory. He's thought of it a million times already and still, the mere sight of the scar on her shoulder makes his chest expand - expand - expand!

He connects his forehead with hers, finds her wide eyes and slows his hips down to a tender pace.

He was worthy enough to save her!

Their connection feels like something resembling faith. Like branches weaved at the foot of Yggdrasil, and he sensually rolls his hips and kisses her deeply, fucks her like a lover.

It's suddenly slow and caring. Soft and all-consuming. She seems to love it, and without warning, she's raking her soft finger pads through his long hair, licking his throat like a kitten while he expertly slowly guides himself in and out of her tight wetness. She whispers his name affectionately and everything glows brighter than before.

"Darling," his tongue slides into her mouth again, caresses her lazily, doubles as a non-verbal whisper telling her that he feels the same. He feels the same - and she immediately picks up on the fluorescent seidr that's filling up his chest cavity; she gasps, flutters around him, and she comes - loudly!

"Oh God!" she closes her eyes and tips over the edge while her perfect inner walls contract violently and squeeze him tight.

He's never heard such beautiful, long moans before as her fingers grab onto his curls and she gently pulls him with her, fills him up with sparks while he fucks her slowly.

He can feel every nerve ending in his body being pulled taut as a flash bow as his seidr vibrates and he finally spills inside her embracing heat to the music of her breaths against his ear.

"My sweet girl," he growls as he involuntarily falls down from his high and pulls her close while she whimpers like a wounded animal. "My goddess!" he kisses her throat, rakes his teeth across her humid skin, trails his hand down between them, ready to spoil her over and over again with his fingers, his tongue, his cock! She deserves it all and he's desperate to have her in his room a little longer. He wants her to stay forever.

He can feel the intense bond between them tightening and he slowly starts moving his hips again while his fingers find her clit.

A pang of warmth strikes his belly when he looks at her pretty face, and he cannot help the desperately sincere "you are so beautiful," that escapes his lips as he leans down to kiss her. "I want you to spend the night."

The change on her face comes in a matter of milliseconds. Suddenly, the all-consuming bliss is replaced. First, by confusion and not even moments later by the scorching anger he knows so well. "What the fuck, Loki??" she pushes at his clammy chest, "what are you doing?"

At first, he's not sure if they've resumed their regular game of cat and mouse so he keeps toying with her delicate clit the way that he knows she loves. "What am I doing?" he licks her throat and teases her asshole with his middle finger, "I'm making you come - what does it look like I'm doing?"

"No!" she pushes him again and he finally lets her escape from between his legs when he realises that she's not joking. "What the fuck was that?!"

Confused, he watches her stand from the bed. "...I'm not following you?"

"You're slow-fucking me now?" she hisses as she quickly pulls on her top, hides away her body as if he did something detestable. "Forehead to forehead like you're in love with me or something?"

It stings. "Excuse me?!"

She huffs as she forcefully yanks on her jeans. "I thought we agreed on what this was!"

"We do," he positions himself on the edge of the bed with his hands grabbing onto the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white with humiliation. "I don't understand what the issue here is."

"Did you enchant me?"

"Enchant you?" He barks, offended. "Is that what you think of me?"

"No - I..." She huffs and looks as if she's about to pull out her own hair in frustration. "You did something different!” She says accusingly.

"I slowed down."

"Well I didn't like it!"

"You didn't like it?" He repeats, baffled. It's his most stunning performance yet; mostly due to the way she so beautifully reacted to him, and now she's trying to make him believe that she didn't like it?! "Excuse me but I'm going to have to disagree with that. I made you come harder than ever before; don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

She sends him an annoyed side eye. "I was caught up in the moment."

"So was I!"

"That's not the point!"

"Indulge me then!"

They stare at each other, more confused than anything else and the silence between them is eating away at him.

"Tell me what I did," he pleads with a desperation that's unlike him while he instinctively reaches out for her hand although he knows it's a bad idea, "- so I won't repeat it next time."

He's right; it is a bad idea, because she immediately pushes his hand away with new-found flames in her eyes. "There won't be a next time," she says determinedly and with that, she gathers her shoes and storms out the door. Slams it shut.

***

She avoids him. Turns on her heel every time he enters a room, looks straight through him when they pass each other in the hallway, acts like they've barely even spoken a word - and he hates it! Hates the desperation, the emptiness of her face when he's the only one in the compound that knows her like this.

It reminds him of his lonely childhood when he would walk the golden halls of the palace alone, desperate for an ounce of the attention Thor was naturally given.

He gets the sudden urge to cause rampage like he did back then. Break treasured possessions, spread lies. But he's painfully aware that he's only at the tower as long as the Avengers want him there, so he behaves himself and tries to shove down the lonely howls from inside his chest.

***

Four days and seven excruciating encounters have to pass before she finally, graciously stands still long enough to let him speak to her.

It's a rainy afternoon and he's reading in the big winged chair by the fireplace when she unexpectedly comes into view.

She's walking back from the gym with her gaze fixed on the blonde man next to her, and as per usual, Loki's every muscle tightens by the sound of her voice alone, but this time it's for a whole different reason too because Steve Rogers is shirtless in all his virtuous glory and she's giggling at everything he's saying as they walk straight past Loki and disappear into the kitchen without sparing him a glance.

The silence that follows is deafening.

He knows that Rogers is the most vanilla man on Midgard - and definitely way too boring to satisfy her in bed - but the two of them have always been a little too chummy for his taste, so when Loki faintly hears Rogers call her sweetheart from the other side of the wall, there's no doubt he has to do something, so he pushes open the double doors to the kitchen, praying to the allfathers that he looks like a threat to the mighty Captain.

It's evident that Loki, ever so rudely, has just disturbed Rogers in the middle of a sentence but the guy is still so annoyingly polite that he nods respectfully in greeting.

Meanwhile, she only briefly looks up from her sandwich-in-the-making to shoot Loki an unimpressed glance before her eyes fall back down to her plate with a theatrical scoff. It makes Steve Rogers look curiously between the two of them with his eyebrows knitted closely together.

Loki gets the feeling that she's putting on an uncomfortable show only to get him to leave, but he's determined to talk to her so he stands his ground and starts flickering through the compound's tea selection achingly slowly just to piss her off.

"- what I mean is -" Steve Rogers continues as if Loki hasn't just barged in with daggers in his eyes. "I can teach you that leg takedown if you'd like? I'm sure Buck wouldn't mind sparring with Sam again some time later this week."

Loki pauses at Earl Grey and lets his gaze slip over to her.

"Yeah?" she hums with a cute little smile, "that sounds like fun. What about Tuesday?"

Her words have Steve Rogers nodding with excitement as he grabs his uninspiring ham-and-cheese sandwich from off the kitchen counter and walks towards the dining table in the next room. Even his tastebuds are bland. "It's a deal, sweetheart," he says.

Sweetheart. Loki's going to vomit.

He contains himself long enough to ensure the man's out of earshot until he angrily hisses out a "What are you doing?". He bites his tongue to stop himself from asking about whether she's interested in fucking the Captain or not. He has to tread carefully now that he finally has her on her own.

She sighs before looking up at him and he has to bite back a gulp when their eyes finally meet for longer than a tenth of a second. "...What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want to talk to you. I want to know what horrible thing I did to have you ignoring me like this!"

"I already told you," she crosses her arms over her chest. "You've gone soft."

"...Soft?" He repeats in disbelief while staring at her. Had this been any other situation, he might've even laughed. He's never been referred to as soft before. "Excuse me but did you hit your head?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't pretend you haven't noticed."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Loki..." she places her palms on the stone table top that serves as a physical barrier between them and looks him straight in the eye. It's dominatingly beautiful and it gives him the chills. "You've gone from hate-fucking me like a demon in heat to calling me your girl and telling me I'm beautiful."

"As if I would want to bed someone who looks like a trout!" He bites back, suddenly annoyed with her. She's right, of course, but it's not like he's about to let her know.

She responds to his clap-back with yet another sigh. "I thought we agreed it was a casual affair. No strings. And, granted, I hold some of the blame too; I probably should've stopped you when I started noticing your attitude towards me changing - I wasn't sure of anything, of course, but the slow-fucking?" She shoots him an unimpressed glance. "That one takes the cake!"

His mouth goes dry. "I don't understand what you're implying," he lies and it makes her scoff.

"Why can't you just admit that maybe the sex meant more to you than it did to me?"

He's taken aback by her bluntness. But it's her definitive use of the past tense that truly throws him off. He doesn't even have it in him to pretend otherwise, and with his silence, he's involuntarily admitting that the sex did indeed mean something to him. Exactly what, he's not sure of but something. He tries not to let it show.

"Loki," she cocks her head to the side with a lick of her lips and it makes it harder to pretend. "I'm not the girl for you. If you want to play house, I suggest you go find somebody else."

***

He dreams of black cats. Of Hel. Of feeling like the smallest man on earth while the Bifrost splinters before him and takes away the bridge to everything he loves.

It's been six days without a knock on his door. He shouldn't care that it's been this long - he doesn't, he constantly tells himself but keeps replaying their last conversation while the teeth of Fenrir sink into his lungs. He saved her - is that why she let him fuck her? Because she felt obligated to? Because of debt? It makes his heart burn.

"Loki."

He looks up at his brother and blinks a few times. Truth be told, he'd completely forgotten he was even there. "...What?"

"You're not listening."

"Yes, yes I was," he racks his brain for the last details he'd registered from Thor's gripping tale, but suspects he's been zoned out for at least five minutes.

Thor knits his eyebrows together, tilts his head disgustingly compassionately. "You're quiet," he states flatly and looks almost concerned. It makes the hairs on the back of Loki's neck prickle. He misses when Thor was less intuitive - before the Avengers, when all he cared about were tits and battle and wielding that stupid hammer.

"I don't remember asking your opinion."

"Just stating the obvious," Thor shrugs and thankfully goes back to the lamb chop on his plate, "one thing being that you're usually plotting something when you're this quiet - though something tells me your head is somewhere completely different as of late."

"Well if you want to keep yours connected to the rest your body, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

His brother leans in close and looks as if he's about to say something vulgar. "It's her again, isn't it?" he whispers as if he doesn't dare speak her name.

"Thor," Loki warns with a sharp side-eye.

"You can tell me."

"I'm not going to."

"Why not?"

"Because you're being nosey."

"Can't I take an interest in my brother's well-being?"

"No. Now shut it!"

"I think she likes you."

It hurts more than he's willing to admit. "Thor!"

"But I do!"

"Shut up!"

He doesn't listen; "are you in love with her?"

A burning sea of vulnerability washes over him right in front of his brother's eyes while he desperately treads water. "She should be so lucky!" Loki hisses as a reflex and immediately feels his stomach churn when his brother grins and lifts his eyebrows in amusement.

"You are!"

Loki points his knife towards Thor, angrier than he's been in a while. "I'm only going to say this once! Stick your nose in my business and I will end you!”

***

They're on a mission in Vienna when Loki's knocked unconscious.

He doesn't remember much apart from an object hitting him on his upper back, a scream of his name - and suddenly, he's back on the rumbling quinjet with a splitting head ache.

He awakes with a groan and coughs up something black and slimy that he immediately spits out on the floor. Charming.

He's dizzy and he's seeing double but he wishes it was his sense of smell that was wonky because he can almost taste his brother's armpits in the air and it's revolting.

"Thor," his voice is hoarse and he coughs again while trying to remember how he ended up here. "What the hell happened?"

With difficulty, he tries lifting his head but is immediately pushed backwards by a hand already resting on his shoulder.

"You hit your head," his brother mumbles from beside him, "I had to carry you back here."

"Well that's embarrassing," Loki mumbles and tries moving his head again but hisses when his neck tenses painfully.

"Lie still," a small voice beckons. It's lighter than his brother's; more delicate, feminine, and the well-known flip of his insides shows its ugly face. Small fingers gently rub his shoulder and first then does he realise that it's not his brother's hand that's resting on his body.

"You're here?" He asks, confused while trying to focus on a spot in the ceiling. "And here I thought we were busy ignoring each other."

"I can keep doing so if you want me to," she says defiantly but sits completely still.

"Be my guest!"

"...Erm," Thor clears his throat in second-hand embarrassement, stands up from his position on the floor and points over his shoulder, "I have to - uh - be over... there."

Smooth.

The fingers that are resting on Loki's body feel more intimate now that they're alone, and he wonders if she can feel it too because she slowly retracts her hand although he wishes she wouldn't. A painful reminder of how she feels.

"Why are you here?" he bites.

"Thor was completely out of it," she says hesitantly, "He thought you were dead. He needed me."

"Thor needed you?” He scoffs, “Well, Thor's not here now so I guess you can leave."

She sighs loudly, "Do you really want me to leave?"

"Yes," he lies. He can still feel the warm spot that her fingers have left behind on his shoulder. It's getting colder now. "You made things quite clear the other day. It was a casual accquaintance, nothing else. There's really no need for you to pity me like this."

"You're hurt."

"I'm hurt? Yes I'm fucking hurt! It feels as if a bloody wall fell on me!"

"That's not what I meant..."

He moves his head through the pain, focuses on her the best he can. "Are you seriously fishing for a compliment right now?"

"W-what?"

"Do you want me to admit to whatever it is you're implying? It won't happen because contrary to your belief, I'm not in love with you." Another lie. "I saved you, you let me fuck you. We're even."

"That's not..." she starts but doesn't end her sentence. Her chest is heaving in heavy pants but she's not saying anything and the tension is thick again. She looks defiant but there's something she's not telling him.

"Was there something else?"

"No, I-"

"Then tell me what happened to my head or be on your way."

"I don't know what happened," she mumbles and gets up from the floor without sparing him a glance. "I wasn't there."

***

"It's a concussion," the new Doctor states the obvious and Loki has to contain himself from rolling his eyes.

"Great, can I go now?" He feels vulnerable enough without the diagnosis, and he's already half-way out the door - away from the prying eyes of the rest of the team.

"Hold up, mr Odinson," the Doctor says and the name feels like another dagger in his back. Loki wants to strangle him. "In your condition, it's important to take precautions."

"Don't tell me we have to start pampering him now!" Stark huffs and Loki's about to snarl something nasty back at him when Thor interrupts:

"Like what, Doctor?"

The Doctor turns back to Loki. "To prevent your condition from worsening, it's important that you take it easy for a couple of days. No TV, no straining exercise. You need rest."

"Right..."

"That being said, you have to make sure you're woken up every two hours. Have someone ask you a simple question like your full name, your birthday, the name of your home town."

"My home town?" He sighs. He doesn't want to think of Asgard right now. He feels lonely enough as it is.

"Something like that," the Doctor brushes it off with a shrug. "Do you have someone who can help you?"

"I assure you, that won't be necessary," Loki tries impatiently. He wants to get out of there. "After all, I am a God."

He can practically hear her rolling her eyes from behind him before she speaks up. "It's fine, Doc," she sighs, "I'll do it."

***

They're lying side by side on his mattress. It's three in the morning and it's the first time she's even in his room for anything other than sex. It's not not pleasant to be lying side by side in the dark, it's just different and neither of them know what to say. He doesn't like that she volunteered. He would've preferred dying in his sleep over the roaring silence.

He sneaks a quick peak at her beauty and accidentally lets out a sigh he thought only Thor was capable of and it seems to bring her to life.

She blinks and rolls over to her side, looks at him with distance in her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy..." he admits though he's not exactly sure if it's due to the concussion or being this close to her again.

"You should sleep," she says so achingly caring that it itches in his fingers to reach out and touch her. "- I'll make sure to wake you up every couple of hours and see if everything's okay."

He nods. "Sounds like you're in for a long night."

She gently shrugs and rolls onto her back again, stares back up at the ceiling. Her chest is rising and falling steadily and he doesn't understand how she can be so calm about the situation when it feels as if everything inside of him is burning with longing.

"Why did you volunteer?" the words tumble from his mouth without having been thought all the way through. "Why not just let Thor do it? He's my brother after all. He would've."

She chews her bottom lip, stares upwards as if stargazing. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

She sounds sincere and he cannot help the furrow of his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Why?" She asks slowly, hesitantly. "Well... you've seemed out of it lately.”

"And you think it's your fault," it comes out more like a sour statement rather than a curious question so he's surprised to see pain behind her eyes when she finally turns her attention back on him.

"I know it is."

"Don't flatter yourself. I already told you it was merely sex for me. It didn't mean anything," he lies and regrets he even asked her in the first place. He wants to sleep. To get everything overwith and not stay in this moment of torture with her lying in his bed, rejecting him. Again.

"Come on," she sighs, "can't we just be honest for once?"

"You say that as if you've been dishonest...?"

"I guess I have," she hesitates and for once, he actually holds his tongue while she considers her next words. "I - uh - I get defensive when people get to close," she shuffles and looks away in embarrassement. "I guess it was easier to just push you away than admit to either of us what was going on. I tried telling you on the quinjet,” she slowly turns her gaze back on him with her eyes darting across his face. His heart picks up its pace.

"What are you saying?"

"Loki," she sighs and closes her eyes again. Speaks so painfully slowly that he almost cannot take it. "- you got close... When you slowed down and loved me that night, I - I felt it all. What I've been trying to deny."

"Felt what?" He tries as slowly as his racing pulse will allow him to speak. He doesn't want to scare her away again by assuming anything.

"I like you," she finally admits. "A lot."

Surprisingly, he's not even relieved. With the rollercoaster he's been through since he first met her, he's not sure he dares believe it, and a few seconds of silence follow between them while he carefully contemplates and chooses his next words.

On her request, he finally decides on telling her the truth. "I guess it wouldn't be too surprising if I admitted to the same thing."

She moves her head a little closer to him and places her hand between them. The smallest hint of a smile is playing on her lips. "Not really..."

A stab of a reminding thought pinches him beneath his ribs and he has to ask her. "You're not just saying this because you think you owe it to me, are you?" he nods to the scar on her shoulder "because I saved your life."

"No?" she furrows her eyebrows, searches his face.

"I don't want you to feel indebted to me. Despite what I told you back then, there were no ulterior motives to my actions. You don't owe me anything. I just did it to save you. I just wanted you to be okay.”

"Loki, I don't feel indebted," she lightly shakes her head. She looks sincere. "- do you really not remember what happened in Vienna?"

He slowly shakes his head. "Not really. An object hitting me in the back and someone yelling my name. Otherwise nothing."

"I did the yelling," she gulps, "and that object? That was a hand grenade."

"A hand grenade?"

She nods. Her eyes never leave his face. "You, me and Thor had just entered the grand hall of the embassy when it happened. You'd strayed off to the side to admire some painting."

It sounds like him.

"- I was behind you and saw it happen. It landed before your feet and without thinking, I just... lurched. Grabbed you and hurled the two of us forwards. You hit a stone column head-first."

He pulls back his head in surprise when he realises. “…you saved my life?”

It makes his blood pressure drop.

"Don't say it like that," she whispers with her breath fanning over his knuckles. "I merely gave you a concussion. The grenade turned out to be a squib after all."

"You didn't know that," he moves a little closer to her. She saved him and she's still here, still lying in his bed. It's not out of debt, he realises. Not at all. She's there because she wants to. "Darling... I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," she mumbles and opens her palm as if to welcome him. "Just kiss me, okay? I've missed you."

Everything inside of him goes soft. He feels squishy and warm and comfortable, and he could look at her forever.

He extends his fingers, engulfs her small hand inside his and dismisses the tension of his neck until their lips finally meet.

It's the gentlest they've ever kissed; lips barely touching, but it's the most heartfelt, the most sincere.

"I'm sorry for how I acted," she mumbles quietly against his mouth. "I really, really like you. I wasn't sure how to deal with that."

"It's okay," he whispers back, "we've all done things we're not proud of."

"Can you forgive me?"

"Of course," he smiles softly and reclaims her lips with the hope that he can show her exactly how crazy he is about everything that is her. His angry Avenger, his fiery goddess.

She saved him.

He feels the emotions pour out of both of them as their kiss deepens and he swears he can feel the allfathers blessing him as he jumps head-first into the burning sun; he can run with the wolves, fly with the ravens. And if Hugin and Munin are watching him from the great beyond, they'll tell all of Asgard that he, Loki Laufeyson, was worthy enough to be saved by a Valkyrie.

[stitchthelilo]

what if pets had tumblr? you could even call it… petblr?! (this is very self indulgent)

just a quick warning, there will be unreality stuff in this, stay safe ^^

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🐈‍⬛ orangekittylover Follow

i hate people who call orange cats dumb like bffr that’s an EXTREMELY harmful stereotype and you should be ashamed

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username checks out

🧀 mrsqueaksalot Follow

why do i hear something clawing at the wall

39,276 notes

👑 goldenkitty Follow

me to the cats who don’t get the expensive shit (my parents actually love me)

🌑 gothcatqueen Follow

GIRL.. LITERALLY ALL CAT FOOD IS EXPENSIVE 💀

👑 goldenkitty Follow

the difference is mine is actually good

#bitches wanna be like me fr

🌑 gothcatqueen Follow

DON’T ACT AS IF WE DON’T SEE THAT TAG, NOBODY WANTS TO BE LIKE YOU!! someone humble this kitten already.. probably the runt of the litter 💀💀

🐈‍⬛ themoontoyoursun Follow

that’s a bit too far.

1,829 notes

🐴 fastestmare Follow

prepping for a race, wish me luck yall

🐎 imevenfaster Follow

i hope you lose so bad they throw you a pity party

🐴 fastestmare Follow

WHAT THE FUCK

160 notes

🛑 petinfo101 Follow

Signs of a Human trying to TRICK YOU!

1. Line of treats, humans tend to use this to lure you into carriers or anything of the sorts.

Read more

🍊 zerobraincells Follow

i wish i saw this sooner.

102,922 notes

🐔 cluckinallnight Follow

to whoever is making that racket right outside of the barn… stop, i’m trying to sleep

🐺 hungryforchicken Follow

no

🐔 cluckinallnight Follow

your username concerns me

🐔 cluckinallnight Follow

like.. a lot. SHOULD I BE MOVING TO AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT FARM??

🐺 hungryforchicken Follow

WHAT NO STAY HERE I NEED MY DINNER

8,901 notes

❄️ babyitscoldoutside Follow

UGHHHH MY OWNER SWITCHED ME BACK TO DRY FOOD…… WHY EVEN GIVE ME WET FOOD IF YOU ARE JUST GONNA TAKE IT AWAY?? IT’S LITERALLY JUST TORTURE

☁️ balloffluff Follow

NO BUT EXACTLY BRO WHY CAN’T I KEEP EATING IT????????????

😾 angrykitty Follow

it makes me angry.

🧀 mrsqueaksalotjr Follow

username checks out

🐈‍⬛ orangekittylover Follow

if you don’t stfu right now i’ll give you the same fate as your father

🧀 mrsqueaksalotjr Follow

MY BAD? 😨

🐶 thebestboy Follow

your owners stop doing that??

1,892,483 notes

🐇 grasseater Follow

just built a new burrow!!

🐺 hungryforchicken Follow

let me just.. change my username real quick

🐺 hungryforrabbit Follow

you know what they say, it’s rabbit season!!!

🐇 grasseater Follow

IT IS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO RABBIT SEASON ITS JANUARY

🐺 hungryforrabbit Follow

every month is rabbit season for me :)

16 notes

🐾 shortkingsforlife Follow

i swear to dog why do humans make us chihuahuas have such a bad reputation?? WE DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING, YOU ARE THE ONES WHO PROVOKED US AND MADE US GET HOSTILE!

🐈‍⬛ orangekittylover Follow

i can relate, humans say black cats are "bad luck"

🐾 shortkingsforlife Follow

aw i’m so sorry :(

🐾 shortkingsforlife Follow

hey how about we talk more in dms?

🐈‍⬛ orangekittylover Follow

i’d like that :3

🐈 thesuntoyourmoon Follow

finally a wholesome moment on here for once

220 notes

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

the abandonment issues au,,

where Sun and Moon gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss their way into ur heart

and then turn into sad wet baby kittens when u find out and call them out on it <3

(copy and pasted from the space aces discord, sorry fellas lmao)

abandonment issues au:

ok what if. fucked up au time

where. reader is the new daycare assistant or a mechanic or smthn idk theyre working withh Sun and Moon thats the important part

i think it works better if theyre like, Sun n Moon's handler? Bc they r closer that way and it makes it more fucked up lmaooooo

so basically. this takes place right after Sun n Moon had their best friend-handler person leave bc Sun n Moon had been acting increasingly volatile n buggy n rlly just having issues but the more the previous handler tried to talk to them abt it and fix it the more they got anxious abt getting decommissioned and would cover up the problems n act like nothing was wrong

and eventually one day the previous handler nearly got rlly hurt and knew they had to leave bc it wasn't safe for them and they left a detailed warning/report for the mechanics

(and they didnt say goodbye, not out of malice or anything just bc they didnt want even more reasons for Sun n Moon to act up/potentially hurt them or themselves)

so. the mechanics did a total clean up of Sun n Moon's system, basically left their memories but scrubbed their data of a lot of the 'feelings' they'd had- mostly wiping away the feelings tied to 'good' memories, and the only thing Sun n Moon could do to fill in the void of 'feelings' was assign different feelings in their place, so when they once looked back and felt happy or nostalgic, now they feel confused and angry and sad and betrayed bc why was all of that happiness taken from them?? why did their handler hurt them like this??

so the scrubbing of their systems, which was one thing they really really didn't want to have done for fear of losing their memories entirely, DID work in putting their issues on a much lower level,, but it didn't get rid of the issues entirely. Now they're just,, easier to hide or play off or ignore. They're careful around the kids, of course, but they do at times have trouble with their motor controls or their speech will glitch slightly, etc

a few handlers come and go, never staying for more than a week or so- none of them really care about the job, don't see Sun n Moon as coworkers but more like fancy 'machines' with no real thoughts or emotions, they normally leave after Sun or Moon has a glitchy moment and nearly hurts them or, in at least one case, does hurt them by squeezing their wrist too hard. more often than not, the ppl applying for the position read the list of warnings n cautions and are like 'hell nahh' and bail immediately

then. in comes,, reader. local dumbass. most endearing of idiots. a bit dense. very much clueless. dearly beloved

you're the first one to really treat them like your coworkers, making small talk and being friendly and kind and patient and laughing at their jokes. you smile when you introduce yourself, offering your hand for them to shake- not afraid of them or their little twitches at all. god, how they missed that. you remind them of their previous handler, if only in how you see them like theyre people and not machines.

and they make a mutual agreement to do whatever they can to keep you as their handler. even if it means dodging around company rules and policies by doing something like crumpling up the confidential 'warning' forms, ortelling the occasional white lie, like forging your signature onto the papers when your back is turned and making sure it makes it to your manager without either of you noticing who exactly was putting it on their desk.

you've already started calling them your friends the first time they have a glitchy moment. you're doing detailing work on their endoskeleton, really just cleaning dust away and making sure everything looks the way it does in the manual, when they break something- a tablet, a pen, your phone, whatever it is, it happens in an instant and startles you.

when Sun n Moon come to and realize whats happened theyre terrified. what if you use this as some kind of excuse to leave? What if you abandon them, just like their previous handler did? What if you start treating them differently, or you tell the staff that they need to be scrapped

so when you ask what that was about, they're frantic, quick to come up with something, anything that might make you shrug and forget all about it,

"Well, you WERE just working on their insides, right? That must have been something YOU did to suddenly make us do something like THAT! There's no way else it could have happened. Right?"

You take the lie hook, line, and sinker, apologizing profusely, promising to try harder to make sure nothing like that happens again. The relief they feel is almost euphoric. They pat you on the head kindly, reassuring you that they know you didn't do it on purpose, it was just a little mess up! You're fine, friend, we forgive you.

From then on, they dodge blame and truth alike, most often redirecting your attention to something you must have said or done to make something so strange and out of character for them happen so suddenly, and you believe them, full of apologies and careful words and actions and nervous worrying about doing things wrong and hurting them somehow. It's cute, how anxious you can get. It's cuter, how you melt for their comfort and reassurance. 

They play the song and dance with you again and again, weaving doubt and guilt into you more and more frequently. Until one day, you mumble something about how 'maybe i'm not cut out for this, maybe i should switch to be on the janitorial team instead, or some other department, i don't want to hurt you guys, or-or be the reason someone else gets hurt, i clearly dont know what im doing, and it's only gotten worse, maybe i should talk to my manager,,' and they panic

don't be silly, friend!!!! you can't just leave like that, what about the kids, what about that puppet show you had helped them plan, did you really want to just abandon all that?? so what if maybe they had the occasional hiccup, you were always there to smooth it over, who cared whether they dropped things from time to time, or- or broke a toy or two, that didn't matter, did it??? You were getting so good at being their handler, your little mistakes were normal, come on, you don't want to leave your very best friends. Do you?

and you cave, agreeing to stay, and they are so, so extremely careful to hide their little moments from you for several weeks, making sure you don't notice their tiny twitches or split seconds of glitchy voices, maybe keeping a closer eye on you than would be comfortable, watching over your shoulder each time you type up a report about the day, giving the manager a loathsome glower behind your back whenever they happen by,, and every time you leave you say 'i'll see you guys tomorrow!,' they grab onto your sleeve and respond with 'promise?' so you always know that they really, really do want you to come back

and then. one day,, you decide to go looking in their files for something small and silly, like what kinds of updates had been added to their pick-up protocols, and you find the warnings and cautions forms

and you see your signature on them, but you would definitely remember this and you are absolutely certain you have never seen these papers in your life. and you take the papers and you go to ask them about it.

"i thought you said you never had any problems before? you told me you never had any issues before but this- this is full of things that you- and you, you've been having these problems for that long??"

they stumble over their words, frantic, panicked, backpedaling on everything theyve ever said, trying meekly to grab the papers from your hands, piling excuses on excuses 

"you knew? you knew you were having these problems, and you didn't tell me? and you- you told me it was my fault!"

you're close to tears, hurt that they lied more than anything. you keep backing away from them, dodging their attempts to get the forms. they don't know which is worse- seeing that look on your face, or when they were left without so much as a goodbye.

"you could have told me. i thought i was the reason for everything, i thought i was hurting you, and you just... you lied right to my face and let me think that."

theyre putting on their best soothing voice, movements slow and gentle, wanting to comfort you and wipe those tears away and reassure you somehow that this- this isn't their fault, none of it is, it never was, they're fine and you're fine and nothing was ever wrong, and everything will be fine if only you calm down and stay

you can tell they arent really listening. you take a deep breath and turn away from them, scraping the tears from your face. you tell them you're going to go home and write up a report about all of this and when you come back you can go over it together before you send it to management, but right now you're leaving because you need space to breathe and time to think

but all they hear is that you're leaving, and they panic.

they don't hurt you, of course! but right now you're not allowed to leave.

you try to shut out the sound of them crying and apologizing and begging, even if it breaks your heart, because right now all you want to do is go home and lie in your stupid bed and have a stupid cry in your favorite pajamas. but you try every door you can think of- none of them open. you've sstayed past closing more than once, but the doors aren't normally shuttered for another two hours,, and you're pretty sure the night guard isn't even here yet

the entire time you're walking around the 'plex, Moon is trailing sadly behind you, waiting with the saddest, most pathetic wet cat look an animatronic can achieve, for you to turn and face them again

and thus begins what is probably the longest night of your life, spent trying to avoid your animatronic friends/coworkers who are acting like the worlds clingiest ex who just got broken up with and who can't stop dropping sad love songs in ur dms

by the time morning rolls around, they agree to actually go to parts n services and cooperate and try their best to get whatever is wrong with them repaired, even if it means they might get decomissioned. in the mean time, you promise to come back once they're fixed and work with them to help them get back to their old selves- or at least, back to how they were before any potentially dangerous bugs

basically this is the 'sun and moon have abandonment issues and gaslight you abt it' au

idk what else would happen tbh idk why i thought this au needed to exist either but here we are *lays facedown in a puddle*

[kentosbabes]

Can you write something abt a submissive gojoooo??👀

Submissive Gojo

mdi- content; needy gojo, submissive, overstim, dom play, sexual content, oral, p in v, praise kink.

Gojo had a bad day at work, his suit rumpled and his tie hanging limply around his neck like a noose. The under of his eyes were bruised purple and blue. To be honest it worried you, you wanted him to feel good. He was the manager at his work place, staying overtime to oversee the newbies.

You thought to yourself that if you took away the control he needed, he would be able to relax. You voiced your concerns a week ago but he didn’t look any better. You call him over from the living room to the bedroom. Dressed in black lacy lingerie fit for the dominant role you want to play.

He’s eyes widened and he looked ecstatic, throwing his bag and jacket on the floor and jumping on the bed to crawl to you.

A smile planted on his face, you told him to stop, “I don’t want to have to take this panties off, do it for me?” The frantic nodding would’ve made you laugh if you didn’t feel so attracted to how obedient he was being. He pulled the underwater down to your thighs.

Gojo looked up at you from between your legs, his long white hair tickling your inner thighs. Flattening his tongue against your clit refusing to breaking eye contact. You murmur, “such a good boy for me.” The words of praise seemed to coax him on—he groaned into you, sucking and teasing your swollen bud while he moved along your slit. Gojo moaned into you, sucking on your clit while two fingers rejoined the effort to please you and slid back into your cunt. 

You pulled away, again this wasn’t for you. You wanted to make him feel good after his bad bad day.

You reached down to caress his already rock-hard cock. You held your hand out under his chin and said, “Spit.”

Coxing his trousers off and his Calvin Kline boxers off, his manhood looked tall and proud. A little red from the rubbing and humping from the mattress. Kissing the side of him, kitten licks to tease him. The sounds of him whimpering and his head lolling back with explicit words falling from his wet and plush lips. It sounded lewd and looked lewd.

You worked your tongue against the tip of Gojo’s cock, pressing it just under the head, something that sent a flood of sensation through him, made him buck up helplessly against your mouth.

You gave a low, appreciative noise around him, the humming sent vibrations and shudders of pleasure through him that really didn't help things, your nimble fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking him slowly.

“You’re such a good boy aren’t you, hm?”

His brows were furrowed and knitted together so tightly he almost looked angry. But through that expression, you could see the pure pleasure you were delivering to him. You released his cock with an overly accentuated pop, before lapping several long streaks along Gojo’s endless length.

“God, you’re so hard, Gojo.” You drag your hand down his length as he thrusts into your palm.

You looked up, pausing your miscreants and kissed him hard on his lips. You grunted and moaned in each other’s mouths, until Gojo threw his head back, arching his back.

He whined in your lips, “I’ll be a good boy for you. Just let me fuck you.” You began to lift yourself up and down on Gojo’s length.

He feels larger, thicker. He can feel your walls fluttering, eagerly sucking him in, all the way down to the hilt.

On his moan, you sat down and let him thrust deeper and deeper into your core, parting you roughly each time got up and sat down on his cock. He pulled in and out, you forced his cock back in.

Gojo stilled inside of you while you clenched around him as his come spurted into you, even though it takes the very last of his strength to do it, sore from your ordeal.

“M’ cumming, please, ah,” he whispered as he tried to catch his breath, you felt him quicken his thrusts until he was head down in her neck and pumping into you so hard that the bed was clattering against the wall.

“You can take it, don’t worry Gojo.” You moan in his ear, sending goosebumps down his spine.

At his third orgasm Gojo was crying, couldn’t help it, sobbing and trying to curl around the ache suffusing his entire body. His thighs burn, he’s sweaty and sticky with come.

“You’re such a good boy for this, do you want more?”

Whimpering like a fucking puppy as his cock buried into you. Helpless pleas and whimpers of your name tumbled from his mouth like a prayer. Reverent.

“Y-yeah please,” he whimpered, tears streaked his face and his red and bitten lips looked so inviting.

You took his lips, holding his throat in your dainty hand. He smiles against your lips. Your hands slide up his chest to wrap around his neck, hungrily pulling him closer for more contact.

“So needy...” You mumble.

He lets out a shaky sigh as you guide the tip of his cock towards your entrance again. He buries his dick deep within your cunt, stilling inside you, twitching.

“M’ gonna cum again, please- ah,” He whimpered, actually fucking whimpered. He pushed your clit just right, sending you overboard. You felt your legs tense and your toes curl in a familiar way. Gojo looked absolutely delicious, looking sweaty and tousled- catching his plush bottom lip with his teeth to stifle the noise he was making. He was frustrated and on verge of tearing up.

Managing to stutter out, " 'm sorry, ok 'm sorry, I'll be good I promise." You tsked placing your hand on his cheek and cupping his face. “Oh all right, one more and then we’re done, don’t worry, you can do this babe.”

[nappingmoon]

toji x hybrid!reader (kitty cat <3) nsfw

thinking about being toji’s little cat hybrid who loves playing hide and seek with him. he comes from work and expects you to be waiting at the door but instead he’s greeted by the sight of your little bell collar abandoned.

you do this every so often, getting the urge to play and insisting that he’s cheating if he can hear your bell clink as you move (either way it never takes him long to find you.) today, though, toji was pent up. shiu was giving him shit all day and then his client tried to stiff him, making up some excuse about wanting the assassination done in a different way.

“kitten, come on out i’m not in the mood to play.” he grumps, and is met by silence. his steps are heavy as he walks through the house and he barely catches the pitter patter of you moving from one room to another. “baby, i’m serious, you’re not going to like me if you make me find you. i’m giving you a chance to be good; you won’t get another.” he calls out.

there’s nothing but a continued silence; you’ve made your choice. sighing, toji walks toward his room. it’s your favorite place to hide in. your ears go flat and you start to wiggle your hips into go mode, ready to run off the second he gets too close. you keen your head to look towards where his feet should be coming into view until you realize you can’t hear or see him anymore. your ears go back and your tail flicks from left to right, shimmying back from your place under his bed, already working on your plan to get into the closet when you feel a hand grab on to the scruff of your neck. you scramble to get further underneath, heart racing, but it’s useless. in just a second you find yourself held in the air, face to face with a very very angry toji.

he’s got you bent over his lap and your ass is raw from the spanks. he grumbles, “should’a listened to me kitty. could’a been nice to my pretty kitty cat but you had to go and hide from me.” his hand comes down again and you mewl out a sad “twenty-three”. it had been far more than twenty three— toji made you restart every time you forgot or miscounted. he rubs his hand over butt, the skin hot to the touch. “only two more, pretty. you’ve got this.”

and you do. he lands a palm on each cheek to finish it off and you’re sobbing softly by the end. he picks you up and places you on his lap gently, aware of how tender you are at the moment. he takes your chin in his hand and places a kiss on your nose, murmuring a small, “good, kitten. knew you could do it.” his thumb comes to your cheek to wipe the tears there and immediately pops between his lips to lick them up. at the sight, your ears twitch and your tail starts to curl around his leg. as his thumb goes to your other cheek to do the same thing until he notices the needy look in your big eyes. “did all of this make my little kitty cat hot ‘n bothered? did having your ass spanked raw make your pretty pussy all wet?”

ask he moves his fingers from your hips to your cunt, you squeeze your eyes and nuzzle into his neck, knowing what he’s going to find. “shit, you’re drippin’ baby.” as he dips his fingers into your slick, bringing it back to rub over your clit, you can’t help but paw at his chest, nudging your head further into him, feeling his stubble prickle deliciously against your skin. he continues playing with your clit and the combination of the feeling and the sounds you make overwhelm your senses, bringing out from within you a purr.

at the sound, toji brings his other hand up to scratch and ruffle between your ears, teasing, “my kitten’s feeling all good now, huh? s’that all it took?” and while his hands feel amazing, it’s not enough. you move to straddle his hips, wincing a little when you accidentally sit and the throbbing returns. you grind into toji as you pepper kisses over his face, your purrs coming out louder every time you go to pucker your lips. toji sits amused as you do this using him to get off but obviously not getting enough. “you need a little help?” he asks as you reach his mouth, kissing and leaving little kitten licks over his scar.

your whine of “yes, please” is all he needs to hear before he maneuvers you onto all fours on the bed. as he unbuckles his belt, you drop your chest down and stretch stretch stretchy your hands out, wiggling your fingers at the end. he’s taking to long and you go to wiggle your hips, too, but he grabs them, kneading the skin that was left untouched by his earlier punishment. he twirls your tail around his finger, then traces down the arch of your spine. it brings goosebumps over all of your skin and as you open your mouth to protest his teasing, all that comes out is a gasp. toji wastes no time in easing his length into you, bringing your hips together in one motion.

from there on, not much but mewls of toji’s name and soft little ‘please’s leave your mouth. you claw at the bed as his hips relentlessly thrust in and out of you, his dick hitting all the places that make you see stars. with his left hand he grips your waist so hard you know it will be tender tomorrow, bringing your body towards his and ensuring that you don’t run from him. he brings his right hand around to your chest, sliding between you and the bed to pinch your nipple. you keen and grasp at his hand- though to stop him or encourage it, you don’t know.

toji groans in your ear and you know he's speaking to you but your brain can't seem to keep up with all of the stimulation. soon, both hands of his are on your waist, flipping you over and laying you on your back. he's quick to grab a pillow and slip it under your hips before inserting himself back in your heat. the change in angle throws you for a complete loop and you find your muscles tensing as you cum. toji chuckles as he wraps your legs around his waist and you know he isn't done with you. his hand comes up to your face, gripping your cheeks and forcing your jaw open. he continues rolling his hips into you, fucking you through your orgasm, and gathering spit in his mouth before leaning over you. even in your haze you stick your tongue out, breathy as you manage to keep your eyes on him. he spits into your mouth and you smile, swallowing eagerly and opening up again to show him how obedient you are without him even needing to tell you. at the sight of you so happy to swallow his spit he groans, his dick twitching inside of you. your walls clench in return and he drops his head into your neck, thrusts becoming sloppier. you wrap your arms around his back and drag your claws down it feeling the ridges of his muscles as they flex and tense to work himself into you.

knowing he's close, he presses down on your stomach, working you to your peak once more. you try to swat at his hand, the pressure too much, too soon, too good. your head moves from left to right and it is all so much and all you feel, all you can breathe in is him him him. he picks his head up from your neck and suddenly, all you can see is the green of his eyes as he whispers into your mouth. "cum. cum on my dick again and i'll fill you right up. come on, filthy kitty. I know you're so close. cum." at his last command he presses down again and you see white.

when you open your eyes again, toji is in a pair of dark sweatpants and walking into the room with a glass of water. "oh, hey you're finally up." he makes his way to the bed and scratches gently under your chin. he tilts the glass into your mouth, making you take a few swigs of the cool water and swiping your lip with his thumb before placing the cup on the nightstand. he sits on the bed you work your way under his arm into his lap, hissing at the sting of your ass as you settle in. "sorry kitten, I rubbed in some cream while you were napping but it's still gonna hurt for a bit." he says, frowning at the furrow in your brows. "you feelin' okay? I know it was a bit much. you squirted all over me and passed out. ya scared me."

"mmhmm" you reply sleepily. "a lil sore, but I feel good. you always make me feel s'good." you rub your head into his chest again as he gathers you in his arms, getting under the covers and leaning over to flick off the light switch. you fall asleep to the rhythmic beating of his heart with a small, content smile on your face.

toji kisses the top of your head before letting himself relax, alleviated from the stress of his shitty day and back with his favorite girl. he rubs his hand up and down your back, the motion slowing as he fades into a restful sleep.

[smallgodseries]

[image description: An inky cat - almost a silhouette - sits tall in profile, a glowing red-orange circle (with curled banderoles from at  top and sides) haloing her head. Behind her, an almost card-like scaled golden background, and behind that, the deep blue-black of space. Text reads, “160, A VOID ~ THE SMALL CAT OF BEING MISUNDERSTOOD ~ after the great Théophile Steinlen”]

• • • • • 

The first thing she remembers is warmth, tiny bodies crashing over her own as they fought for a share of their mother’s milk.  Warmth, and a purr that was the world, the sweet vibration of a mother’s love.  The voices in the distance barely registered with her:

“One cat was one cat too many.  You can’t keep six of them.  Those kittens have to go.”

“But Mama—”

“The kittens or the whole damn cat!  One or the other!”

Then she remembers hands, grabbing her and pulling her away from her littermates, from her mother, stuffing her into a cold, rough sack while her mother meowed piteously in the background, broken-hearted and confused.  A door slammed.  The meowing stopped.  And then there came cold, freezing cold, and wetness, and one by one her brothers and sisters stopped moving, and still she fought, furious, cold and wet and tiny and angry, until again, hands, pulling the sack out of the water,  pulling the surviving kittens out into the light.

After that came warmth again, and bottles held by human hands, and fosters who cared so much about the tiny lives in their care, but who knew from the beginning that they couldn’t save them all.  After that came open eyes, and light, and a world.  A world so big and so filled with beautiful things…for the cats who got to leave the shelter.  Her brother, born with a white patch over half his face, got to go.  Her sister, calico and striking, got to go.  And she, black as midnight, stayed.

“We’re sorry, sweetie,” said the volunteers, after yet another open day when no one took her home.  “It’s hard for the black cats.  They don’t understand how wonderful you are.”

And she purred, for them, and she played, for them, and she stopped trying to be charming, for the people who came every second Saturday.  She didn’t need them to understand her.  She wasn’t going anywhere.

She spent her whole life at that shelter, and when new black kittens came in, she taught them how to be cute and coy, how to flirt with the potential adopters.  How to find themselves a home.  And one night, when she went to sleep, a strange dog was waiting for her.

“Hello!” it said.  “Hello, I love you!”

The dog, it transpired, was named Adora, and Adora was a small god.  Not a large god, not life or death or anything of the like, but a small god, of imaginary friends.  And the cat, who had never had a name she truly felt was hers to keep or claim, had done enough for the kittens in her care, the misunderstood and the overlooked, that they were offering her the chance to be the same.  She could be a small god.  She could choose her portfolio.  She could do anything.

Anything but go back to the shelter, where her unbreathing body had already been found by a weeping volunteer.  That time was finished.

She looked at the dog.  She looked at the crying people who had been her only friends.  She wrapped her tail around her legs.

“I am A Void,” she said, “and I will be a small cat for the misunderstood.”

She takes her duties very seriously.  She is with those who are judged unfairly, who speak too fast or too loudly or not enough.  Who are out of step or out of fashion, who never get their points across.  She is with them all, and while she does not love as freely as Adora, she cares for all who bear her banner.  She cares so very deeply.

But she cares for the little black cats most of all.

[laura1633]

We talked about Max as a cat shifter and hybrid but did we talked about Max love being treated as Charles’s little kitten and act like a kitten? He doesn’t act exactly like kitten but he blushes when Charles calls him kitten and when he gives him treats and kiss him and play with him like a kitten or cuddle him and even pick him up, also when he’s completely in the kitten space he even wets himself and Charles finds it very hot during sex and cute if not during sex and tells Max that it’s okay

Max getting into a little kitty headspace is adorable anon 😍

He would definitely love head nuzzles and curling up on the sofa next to Charles, lots of kisses and praises about what a good little kitten he has been and how cute he is. Max just loves the softness that comes with it all and how he doesn't have to worry about anything at all when he is a kitten, all he has to think about is getting attention from Charles.

Perhaps Max is worried Charles will find it odd but then Charles buys him gifts and a shiny collar with a bell on and gets little treats that he can pretend are kitty treats.

Oh Max would definitely blush the first time he wet himself as a kitten and he would be scared he was going to get shouted at but of course Charles doesn't get angry at him at all, Max is still his perfect kitten.