#THANKS I AM NOT OKAY EVEN A LITTLE BIT

[mattodore]

can you describe matthias and theo night routines? and their sleep schedule

<3 ly

Theo doesn’t get a lot of sleep since he’s either out partying into the long stretches of the night or up studying until the words begin to blur on the page. I’d say he normally falls asleep around 3AM-4AM and doesn’t wake back up until 7AM. Four-ish hours is pretty average for how much sleep he gets a night… maybe less at times if he’s more stressed than usual. I should add that he does sleep more when he’s staying over at Matthias’s or vice versa, but generally he tries his best not to let Matthias distract him from studying before bed… which only ever works out about a quarter of the time. Matthias can be... very persuasive.

In the case of Matthias, well… he’s a chronic insomniac whose insomnia is exacerbated by hallucinations and nightmares. Unsurprisingly, his sleep schedule is terribly inconsistent, but if he does sleep then I think he normally manages it sometime around noon and will stay asleep for about an hour or two. It’s actually very rare that he falls asleep during the night—especially after Theo begins to sleep over, as Matthias prefers to read and watch over him at that time instead. Theo has fits in his sleep (from nightmares that he never remembers…) and Matthias gently calms him so he doesn’t wake up.

The only time they fall asleep at around the same time is when they’ve been at it for a while and both need a break. Matthias doesn’t stay asleep for long, though… maybe an hour at most. He does sleep easier around Theo, but that’s mostly just when Theo is awake. I think Matthias finds a lot of comfort in knowing Theo is there watching over him. He went through a lot at the reformation school and there were many times within those years where sleep would be abruptly interrupted and then he’d be back on the killing floor, so to speak, so having someone there to watch over him… I think it really helps. Then, on the other hand, Theo sleeps pretty deeply after they’ve been having sex. There’s never a time he feels more cared for and adored than when Matthias is making love to him, so it's... a relaxing experience. It puts Theo's mind at ease and I think it’s probably when Theo feels the safest. So he'll sleep for a long while after, feeling cradled in Matthias's presence, his anxiety finally snuffed out.

As for their actual night routines… hm. They’re very different, especially before and after the start of Echthroi. 

Theo’s night routine stays pretty much the same throughout the story. He’s not one for self-care, like, at all. Because of that, he doesn’t necessarily have a routine… Theo’s honestly only really meticulous in his studies and everything else suffers for it. However, Theo physically cannot fall asleep unless he’s checked the locks on the windows and doors and closed all of the blinds and curtains. That’s the one routine of his he’s always sure to follow through on, even when he’s intoxicated or sleep deprived.

Otherwise, what else he does as part of his “routine” is up in the air. Sometimes he showers before bed, other times he showers after waking up. Sometimes he combs through his hair all nicely and other times he just impatiently rips his fingers through his hair and shrugs. Sometimes he forgets to brush his teeth, other times he forgets that he’s already brushed his teeth and ends up doing it again. He’s a bit of a mess. If he’s actually aware/awake enough to put himself to bed, then he’ll messily wipe any makeup off his face post-clubbing and/or he’ll shower post-hook up (if it’s the pre-Matthias part of Echthroi). If he’s tired from studying he’ll put all of his materials away and then flop down on his bed. If he has to see his parents in the morning then he’ll wind up in the bathroom for too long, brushing his teeth until his gums bleed. If we’re talking about Theo in the post-meeting Matthias part of the story then he might take a cold shower to try and get Matthias out of his head for a little bit, or he’ll find himself laying in bed staring warily at his phone. Hm… and in general Theo will hum lullabies to himself so he can fall asleep easier… it’s a childhood habit.

By nature of Matthias’s insomnia, Matthias doesn’t exactly find himself preparing for bed during the night like most people. He does, however, still run through his personal care routine at around 8pm. He showers, brushes, flosses, cleanses and hydrates, primps and preens, and then he’ll usually find himself entertaining guests or a partner for the night.

For Matthias pre-meeting Theo, he’s often not alone after dark as he has a string of men with whom he takes to his bed or a list of faceless people to call on whenever he wants to be surrounded by bodies and chatter. There are still quiet nights where he’s by himself or just with Imani, but they’re relatively few and far between. For Matthias post-meeting Theo… woof. He did sleep around here and there still, but I think he gave it up pretty early on… his mind was always swimming with thoughts of Theo and he couldn’t focus on nor did he find himself interested in the men he’d have under him. So after meeting Theo his usual night circuit changes and he often finds himself staying home and reading with some wine and the occasional glance at his phone, waiting for a response. Matthias does a lot of waiting when it comes to Theo.

If they're together at night (when they’re dating), then Matthias will usually make dinner for Theo. He likes feeding him (by hand, even, though Theo often protests). Normally Theo will have a few textbooks with him that he can study from while he waits for dinner and he always winds up going "give me a minute" when the food is finally done. They'll enjoy each other's company just fine at home or they'll go out for a drive or a walk. Theo often winds up getting roped into following along with Matthias's night routine and will poke fun at how fussy Matthias can be as Matthias does skincare beside him in the bathroom. Theo tries to get away with studying again later in the night, but Matthias likes to distract him as he’s personally offended whenever Theo whips out his textbooks past, like, 11PM. In general, they'll wind up having sex at some point, or multiple points, and then they'll shower together. After they towel off and Matthias dries Theo's hair, Matthias will most likely end up reading to Theo until Theo falls asleep. If Theo wakes up during the night, Matthias simply kisses him back to sleep.

[bugmistake]

ive gotta. get it together a little bit i think. holy shit i really did not mean for the tags to get THAT long

[astrxealis]

okay rambles but i started creatively writing in like ... 5th grade? and. oh god just a little encouragement to anyone looking to get into writing or insecure or whatnot, but HELLS, maybe it's to he expected with my (obviously) very young age and inexperience with writing then, but my writing was really. yeah. Yeah. but then i'm what... a lot older now, obviously, and my writing has gotten leagues better. i'm probably not a good example for this bcs childhood years development stuff are different etc etc BUT practicing writing more and whatnot really does go a long way :]

[123countwithme]

So umm found Welcome Home and yeah.....

[ticapuravida]

✨🐞Desire + Discipline = Destiny🐞✨

[cosmojjong]

gloomy thoughts :(

[jeoseungsaja]

🍸 + not a question, but rather please take an equally drunk patrick stumbling over to his dear friend to ask him to hold something for him....it's patrick's hand. that and patrick will also be kissing his dear friend on the cheek once they're holding hands 😊

@ofgentleresolve ♚ from x.

♔ ———–

   Once again he’s sitting on the floor, his back pressed to the couch and his hand still holding the neck of a half-empty bottle of Soju. It almost feels like déjà vu, akin to that day where he was sitting right on this spot, waiting for Patrick to come back from the bathroom. The difference is that this time, his dear friend is not the only one drenched in tipsiness but he, too, is drunk to the point of feeling a bit of dizziness swirling in his head. 

   How did he manage to get like this? Well, the conversation kept flowing and he never noticed the drinks continued to be poured down the glass until part of his speech became a little slurred. Then again, not noticing has become something common when it comes to spending time with his best friend --- Hyuk forgets everything else but the fact that Patrick is there, with him. Why would he focus in the quantity of distilled spirit, when he rather remember the number of times Patrick laughed? 

    So now he’s here, under the roof of a familiar place, away from the table and stuck to the ground. His eyes close for a second, free hand pressed to his forehead as something similar to a grumble escapes his alcohol-stained lips. One eye opens when he starts to hear the sound of something hitting another something, head tilting to find Patrick clumsily walking and a bag with art supplies (that Hyuk bought recently) toppling over. He thinks he hears his dear friend apologizing (though he doesn’t know if the apology is aimed toward him or the bag); palm moving to be waved in dismissal. 

    “Leave it there, I’ll....I’ll pick--pick it up ‘morrow.” 

     Even in this hazy state, he doesn’t want Patrick to make any unnecessary efforts. Besides, what if he tries to pick up the brushes which rolled out of the bag and ends up hitting his head against something? No, no; it’s best like this. 

    “It’s fine. Could...you...come sit down, here, here---” 

     And he pats the space next to him; leaving the bottle of Soju somewhere away from his grasp so both of his hands can lazily land on his lap. Seconds later and he’s hearing more stumbling; torpid sight following Patrick’s silhouette making it to where he is. The signs of his dear friend being inebriated are present: red-flushed cheeks, rolled up sleeves; dopey (but vastly endearing) grin...and words that Hyuk can’t fully understand at first, but that must be because the detective is also under the influence. 

    “What? Y’want me...to hold somethin’?” 

    He repeats in the shape of a question, Patrick’s sluggish nod confirming Hyuk’s ears didn’t fully fail him. The detective’s hand stretches out, palm up and ready to receive anything his best friend wants him to hold. He doesn’t even hesitate, just accepts his request without even asking him what, exactly, wishes for him to temporarily have. 

    A plop is heard and the warmth of his friend is felt, meaning that he’s finally sitting nearby. Soon enough, weight is added to Hyuk’s waiting hand; head turning to see what it is. He blinks and frowns. That’s...Patrick’s hand, and he doesn’t feel an item or anything between their hands now clasped together. 

    Wait.      Wait.     It takes him longer to connect the dots when drunk.      Curse him for being a lightweight.

    “This is what y’wanted me to ‘old?” 

     And he lifts their intertwined hands --- funnily enough, Hyuk doesn’t let go. Not even for a second. A vague nod comes from his friend, along with the sudden planting of a kiss on Hyuk’s cheek. It’s not long enough before pink begins to bloom on his skin, along with a muzzy smile. Does this mean...Patrick is also prone to flirt when drunk? That’s something Hyuk didn’t know about...not like this, at least; a brand new door unlocked due to the stages they’re moving through.

    Because, at this point, it’d be insanely silly to say they’re just friends, right?     They can deny it all they want, but their hearts would challenge them, wouldn’t they? 

    Hyuk’s smile widens. He likes this. Likes that he’s getting to know more about another side of Patrick, likes that these lines and actions are aimed to him; likes that he gets to have this moment with his best friend --- likes him, Patrick, more than words can express. 

    “Okay. I’m taking good care of it.” 

     He tells Patrick, looking at him and that kind face which tends to send odd sensations (they’re called butterflies, but he’s too rusty to recognize that) to his stomach.

  Eyes dance over dear friend’s features; drunken stupor adding a boldness to let his sight freeze on the shape of his best friend’s lips. There they are again, the thoughts, the what if’s, the undisclosed wishes. But instead of letting them win whilst drunk, Hyuk ends up allowing his head to fall on Patrick’s shoulder; temple comfortably pressed there. 

     His thumb, it begins to draw soft circles on Patrick’s hand; eyes dropping to catch the view of their hands holding each other. It does feel like déjà vu. 

    Except, except.      There is no thoughts of ‘I should let go’.      No, in fact, he squeezes his dear friend’s hand.      In fact, he decides to twist their arms a little so Patrick’s fist is facing him.      And when this happens, he brings the professor’s knuckles to his lips and kisses them.      Presses a hearty kiss there, between bones. 

     “I’m taking good care of it.” 

     He repeats, his eyes slowly closing; sleepiness somehow kicking in. It’s this peace, he knows. The peace he feels when Patrick’s near --- he’s the one who calms his raging waters; the sea that constantly threatens to lift high waves. 

    “Good care...of...you. I promise.” 

———– ♔

[d0d0-b0i]

are you fucking kidding me

[yuichiroswife]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃.   without   bothering  to  hush  them,  the  little  killer  darts  across  the  labyrinth  of  misty  streets  &  flickering  lampposts,  searching  for  none  other  than  his  dearest  friend.  he  knows  that  he  is  around  here  somewhere,  trapped  in  this  delusion  of  a  moonlit  city  much  like  all  of  the  other  (  unfortunate  )  children  whom  happened  to  be  caught.  the  nonchalant  guards  don’t  even  blink  as  he  passes,  just  rushing  down  the  cobblestone  pavements  until  the  familiar  sight of an angel  sitting  at  the  edge  of  a  fountain  comes  into  view,  so  terribly  lost  between own thoughts &  its  dark,  shimmering  waters.

the  little  killer  slows  down  into  a  halt  just  then  &  with  a  soft  breath,  squats  down,  falling  right  into  mika’s  line  of  sight.  as  always,  no  words  escape  those  silent  lips. instead, min-jun  proceeds to  reach for  something  in  his  pocket  &  with  a  hint  of  a  smile,  reach up, pushing  a  lone  chocolate  square  right  between  mika’s  lips.   it  melts  almost  instantly  along  the  tongue,  tasting  of  sweet  caramel,  luxury,  &  a  secret  meant just for him. // happy white day ♥ !

✠ — ALL SOUND SURROUNDING HAD BEEN COMPLETELY BLOCKED OUT BY THE STATIC NOISE WITHIN THE BLONDE'S MIND, sapphire gaze staring unflinchingly into the water's depths as he remained ever still — almost as if mesmerized by the way the water moved because of the fountain's constant flowing stream — yet the look held within his eyes was not something that one would call childish excitement or curiosity. No, instead his eyes held something more concerning. Something much darker. Almost as if the shine had been completely taken from the blonde's eyes. What exactly could have caused such a thing, one couldn't be certain, especially given the fact he wasn't even focused enough to speak, but one thing was for sure — whatever it was certainly had him anxious. Though if one knew him well enough, the cause could likely be chalked up to a certain silver-haired vampire.

✠ — Gaze remained fixated upon the fountain's waters until the sound of hurried footsteps draws his attention, HEAD JUST ABOUT TO TURN TO THE SIDE WHEN SOMEONE CROUCHES DOWN IN FRONT OF HIM. He doesn't speak though, instead now focusing his sights upon the pale facial features of the one he called his beloved friend and companion. Seemingly taking a few moments to break his mind away from the overwhelmingly loud static, lips parting ever so slightly as if he was to say something — only for his mouth to be occupied by something being pushed between his lips.

✠ — THE SUDDEN RICH AND SWEET FLAVOR AGAINST HIS TONGUE TAKES HIM BY SURPRISE, finally forcing him back to reality as the shine in his eyes returns once more, clearly causing him to forget about whatever it was that was plaguing him — temporarily at least. Candy. 'Twas something that he hadn't had in a very long time... not since the world had ended anyway. How the other was able to get his hands on such a thing is a wonder in and of itself, ONE THAT MIKAELA DESPERATELY WISHES TO KNOW IN FACT, but alas... he only wishes that could could have shared such a treat with him instead of having the small square pushed into his mouth. Ah, but wait, the whole square wasn't in his mouth. It was perched in between his lips and only one side had touched his tongue, thus he had an idea. Ever so carefully, he manages to bite the small square in half before leaning forward to give the boy of raven strands a small kiss on the lips — transferring the other half of the chocolate square between Min-Jun's lips as he had done to him — before straightening himself back up.

✠ — "Haha, I hope you didn't expect me to eat that by myself~." There's a small fit of laughter that escapes his lips, A FAINT SHADE OF COLOR MANAGING TO TAKE OVER HIS FEATURES IN THE PROCESS, followed by an overly enthusiastic smile. Small hands move from their place upon his lap and reach forward, leaning down ever so slightly until delicate fingers were placed against both sides of Min-Jun's face. "I'd ask where you got that from, but I don't think you'd tell me regardless of if I did or not. So I won't even bother," he pauses for a moment as his thumbs make small circles against the other's skin, "though I have to say you caught me by surprise with it. I definitely wasn't expecting it!"

✠ — Even so, it was a delightful surprise to a rather dreary day for him, that much was for certain. Not to mention it was very sneaky of the other as well. Well played, very well played indeed. "Honestly... it's got me a little flustered." The words come forth in a rather uncharacteristically shy tone for once, further proving that the action made his heart skip more than a few beats, yet despite that, he still leans his forehead against his companion's. "Happy White Day, Min-Jun~. Thank you for the sweet surprise."

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

[tender-rosiey]

how would modern day sukuna be like a father? :o

nerves — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: no curses au, lovelies! thank you for being so patient MWUAH and of course, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it!

when one thinks of sukuna, one thinks of a broad muscular man covered in tattoos with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue punching the hell out of anyone.

you never think of the same man carrying a pink glittery bag and his own little pretty princess.

“do you have your lunch box?”

“yup!”

he quirks an eyebrow, “you sure?”

your daughter nods excitedly before looking over her dad’s shoulder. she grins when she finally sees you and excitedly calls you over, “mama! ‘morning!”

a smile instantly appears you on your face as you make your way towards your little sweetheart, “good morning, baby!”

you take her into your arms—ignoring your husband—and you kiss her cheek, “you excited for your first day of school?”

“mhm!” she gasped suddenly, “mama, look at my hair! papa made it for me!” she giggles, proudly showing off her ponytail.

you look with a knowing look and a small smile at your husband.

sukuna frowns and looks away, “it was easy anyway,” he then glares at you, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

you giggle and pad your way towards him, resting your arm on his shoulder and gently kissing his lips, “it’s a really cute deal, though.”

you lightly bounce your daughter in your other arm, “right, d/n?”

“yeah! papa is the best!” she cheers, hugging him tightly.

your husband groans, but—nonetheless—his arms are wrapped around you two, “you two are such drama queens.”

he leans slightly, mouth near your ear as he whispers, “you better give me a proper fucking kiss when we drop the brat off.”

you gasp lightly and smack his shoulder, “watch your language!” you watch him scrunch his face—most likely about to sass you—so you press a quick kiss to your daughter’s cheek then your husband’s.

you then push them through the door with a nervous smile, “okay, bye! have a great time and don’t forget that mama loves you!”

“I love you too, mama!”

of course, you would’ve loved to accompany your daughter to school, especially on her first day, but the darn office just happened to call for you right now.

sukuna knows that, and so does your cute daughter, so there is a reason why they were both so reluctant to leave.

anyway, back to the present.

your husband’s frown is still evident as he is robbed yet again from a ‘proper’ kiss. he picks your daughter up easily and then throws her in the car.

she, as always, finds it funny and starts laughing her little butt off. sukuna rolls his eyes, and gets into the car himself.

he puts on the playlist that your daughter made herself, and finally starts the car. the ride is quiet, if you don’t count the singing and screaming of your daughter.

of course, sukuna can’t do anything about it—even if he knows that he doesn’t want her to stop in the first place.

the school isn’t that far away anyway, so they reach it in no time. your husband skilfully parks in front of the gate and takes his seatbelt off.

he doesn’t hear hurried unbuckling of a belt or nonstop squealing and fidgeting, so he looks at his daughter, “what’s up?”

she fidgets with the hem of her shirt then speaks up, softly, “I am—scared.”

he furrows his eyebrow, turning his entire body towards her, “huh? why? you were so excited with your mom earlier and you were screaming my ear off about it yesterday.”

“I know,” she murmurs then frowns, “…but what if people don’t like me?”

sukuna is stunned for a moment. he isn’t the one to normally deal with your daughter whenever she needed deep or meaningful emotional advice.

that was what you did, especially since you are able to read your daughter pretty well.

but he tries his best cause he would be damned if he isn’t the best father. his hand is placed on her head, albeit a bit roughly.

she whines, “papa, my hair!”

he takes a moment, “I…” he starts then quietens down for a second, and even then, you’re daughter is looking intently at him.

he then looks at her again, “they will love you. you’re a good kid."

your daughter’s eyes widen at her dad’s unfiltered compliment. she beams, quickly unbuckling her belt and throwing herself into his arms.

her smile is so wide it almost hurts her, but her heart feels so full because of her dad’s praise that she couldn’t care about anything other than him.

he slowly starts patting her head, “and if someone bothers you, I will just beat them up.”

“mama said no violence!” your daughter scolds and almost on cue, your face appears on the screen: you’re calling!

looks like you managed to squeeze in some time to check up on her. your daughter swiftly presses on answer and chirps, “hi mama!”

“hi baby! why are you not in school yet?” you question, eyes darting towards your husband, questioning.

“papa wanted to get some food first, so we just arrived!”

sukuna is—internally—flabbergasted. this liar. he is about to interject, but then he ponders about it for a moment: maybe she doesn’t want you to see her hesitant about the whole school thing.

maybe she wants to appear strong—with no weak points—in front of her mother. then he breathes out a chuckle, at least she takes after him in something.

“sukuna! she could’ve been late!” you huff then sigh, “good thing that you guys moved early anyway.”

your eyes then focus on your daughter, “how’re you feeling?”

“excited!”

“any nerves or anything?” you ask knowingly, but she shakes her head.

she hugs sukuna tighter, “I was a little nervous, but papa made me feel better!”

you grin, “did he now?”

he notices the teasing glint behind your eyes and looks away to avoid your gaze. your daughter giggles at her dad’s behaviour, and so do you.

and your husband has never felt more teamed up on than now. she hears the bell rings, “oh! I gotta go now!”

“bye papa!” she kisses her dad’s cheek, “bye mama!” then kisses the phone’s screen. you blow her a kiss back, and she dashes out of the car, ready to start her day.

even while walking towards the building, she turns again to her dad and waves at him happily.

sukuna nods and she grins, switching her focus back on the school. his focus is on her intently, until you speak up, “I am proud of you.”

his gaze snaps to you, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead you’re smiling warmly at him. his heart contracts in a way that makes him feel weird, and he can’t find it in him to give you a snarky reply.

he groans, “she is my daughter as much as she is yours, y’know.”

you hum, “of course, she is,” he hears rustling on the other line, so he assumes you’re checking some papers before turning to him again, “she takes after you in more ways than one.”

“yeah, I noticed,” he says quietly, and you laugh.

he notices from the corner of his eyes his daughter laughing excitedly with a bunch of others girls, and he lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

you tap on your desk a little, “you nervous?”

“if someone hurts her, I will kill them.”

“I figured."

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[katskitoshi]

A FAVOR FOR A FAVOR," with GENSHIN IMPACT.

synopsis: he helps you with something and it's only fair you pay him back, right? (liyue vers.) (mondstadt vers.)

characters: dom! zhongli, xiao, and baizhu x gn! sub! reader

includes: (nsfw themes) zhongli is kinda mean, big cock zhongli, kissing kink, worship kink, biting, drool kink, cream pie. xiao is whiny and desperate, fingering, whining, praise kink. baizhu is mean, cockwarming, riding, missonary on desk, implied thigh/leg humping.

zhongli, the vago mundo.

it's only expected that you'd owe zhongli something after how much time you've spent in liyue and with him. he's knowledgeable and there is not much he could want from a mortal such as yourself. well, that is until he starts falling back into his more primal urges, and decides its time for you to repay him.

-- "i'm being gentle, okay?" he truly was too kind, especially now as a gently jerked his hips in to sink his cock deeper in your hole. he was even kind enough to take you in his mortal form and stretch you out with his 8-inch human cock rather than his much larger adeptal one.

his tip, hot and heavy inside you, made you squirm and pant under your boyfriend's loving gaze. he kissed your check gently, slowly traveling down to your neck as began to leave love bites in his wake. "m-move, please, zhongli. need you, real bad- ah, fuck !"

your eyes could have popped out your skull when you suddenly felt yourself get stretched impossibly further. zhongli kissed you to distract you from him pushing even deeper inside. he pulsed inside you, leaking precum to lubreacte himself as he kept going. your fingers dig into his back your your legs wrap around his waist.

the kiss was hot, and drool connected your and zhongli's lips and he pulled away. he smiled. he could already see you turning into a devout little worshipper for him. you move your hands from his back to the back of his head to push him in for another kiss. you miss the first few times, but ones your lips meet, your tongue explore each other.

finally, he bottoms out and you moan so sweetly into his mouth. you pull away from his lips, arching your back as your eyes roll to the back of your head. you came almost immediately and he revels in the mess you make of yourself. he does not wait, gently beginning to pound your sweet hole. one of his hands slaps the side of your thigh and squeezes the fat of your ass.

"fuck, barabatos, thank you, thank you!"

barbatos?

you dare call another man's name -- another god's name while he fucks you? how foolish you are, mortal.

you don't even notice the dangerous glint in zhongli's eyes. he grabs the back underside of your knee and pushes your legs so knees reach your ears. your eyes meet his at last and you can tell he's changed a bit. "zh-zhongli?"

you can only respond in a loud, lewd squeal of his name when he pulls out to the tip and thrusts in so deeply you swear he could rearrange your guts. drool escapes your lips and you try to recollect yourself. lewd squelching noises echo through the room as he dips to your neck and leaves hash bites.

"think you can just call another man's-- another god's name when i'm the one fucking you? think again." he growls into your ear and never stops thrusting for a moment, you cum again and pull him closer, silently begging for a kiss.

he does not oblige, allowing you to just lay desperate for him. he removes one of his hands that holds your legs up and positions it on his shoulder. his now free hand is used to push your cheeks together, drool still falling from your lips.

"he, he is not your god anymore. i am. the only name you'll be calling from now on is morax, understand, dear?"

he doesn't bother giving you the chance to respond, just sticking two of his fingers in your mouth for your tongue to play with. you try to speak, but can't simply because zhongli's ungodly pace knocks all the wind out of you.

his cock pulses inside of you, and you can feel yourself coming closer to your next release too. he removes his fingers from your mouth and plays with you, forcing you closer to your climax. and you can only release silent moans as he finally, finally, delivers a final thrust,

his cock, hot, heavy, and leaky inside you bursts, painting your walls and golden white color. you feel full, resting a hand over where zhongli's cum rests, panting heavily at the feeling inside of you.

he doesn't pull out, but slowly starts thrusting again. "zhongli! m'too sensitive! can't take it!"

"dear, call me morax. and we aren't done yet. you've still gotta take all of me, in my adeptal form, so i can truly show you which god you belong too."

xiao, the vigilant yaksha.

xiao has never really wanted much in return for helping people, especially from mortals. what could you give him after all? but upon meeting after saving you one fateful night, all he wants is to make you his.

"f-fuck, y-you're so tight -- e-even around my fingers!" xiao leans into kiss you once more as his fingers continuously hit that soft, sensitive spot inside you. the kiss silences his moans, his body weight is on you with his thighs on either side of your hips. one hand between your legs, and the other cupping your face as your tongues intertwine.

you bucked your hips upwards to meet his hands. the hand that cups your face moves down to push your hips downwards, stopping you from meeting his eager fingers. his lips shush yours as he pulls away from the kiss. you reach your arms around his neck and pull his lips back to yours. "m-more. w-want you inside me, xiao."

"i know. i know, baby. j-just a little longer -- gotta feel you cum from my fingers first." he speeds up, and you can feel your orgasm coming closer. his face is flushed red and he looks just as flustered, if not more, than you. and all from watching you come undone just for him. you were a sight for sore eyes right now and always.

hands digging into his neck, cheeks heated, panting and whining from his touch because you wanted -- no, need him in these moments.

his fingers curls against you in a way you never thought you could feel and your climax arrives. you moan into his mouth as your thighs shake and eyes roll to the back of your head. he swore he could have came in his pants just then as he hears you whine out his name, hands clinging to his body for his support, for him.

his fingers don't stop as he slowly works you through your orgasm, gentle pumping in and out as he whispers praises that make you lose your head. "shh, baby. i know it's a lot, but not too loud. don't want the humans downstairs to hear you, yeah?" the slight movements makes you squirm from the overstimulation youre feeling and your whines get louder, but he doesn't kiss you to silence you.

"fuck, you're so pretty right now, you know that?" he pulls his fingers out, taking in the look of your twitching hole and panting body. "but you're always pretty," he kisses the tip of your nose, "always." pulling down the waistband of his pants and pulling out his throbbing, leaky cock, he rests it on your stomach. his flushed red tip leaks precum over your stomach.

"need you. p-please put it in, xiao." and he complies. his tip lines up with your hole as he slowly and steadily pushes it inwards, he wants to squeeze his eyes shut from the sheer tightness and wetness and pleasure just putting in the tip has given him, but his eyes focus on the way you smile. dazed out, drool running down your lips and you desperately whine out his name.

do you have any idea what you do to him, mortal?

he continues to push himself in, and he can feel your walls tighten around each vein and each inch he pushes in you. he leans in to kiss you once again, his hands cup your cheeks as you sloppily make out.

once he reaches the base, he slowly begins to pump in and out. a steady pace, one that leaves you dizzy as his cock never fails to reach the part of your body that makes you squirm. the kisses get sloppier, you hands hold onto him tighter, all as he keeps a steady pace. deep and slow.

skin slapping accompanies the wet kisses and whines that leave xiao's lips, your hands upwrap from his neck and push at his chest. you need air, and you pant, greedily taking in the air so you and your lover's lips can reunite once again. xiao's eyes squeeze shut as he whines into your mouth again.

he begins to speed up, muttering out a quick apology. xiao was fast and his thrust were apologetically brutal. though unforgiving as he fucked you deeper, faster, harder, -- still caring and sweet as his fingers moved to intertwine with yours. your legs are propped over his shoulders and he gets a better angle to pound you.

moans and whines are exchanged between you two as you kiss, you can feel your orgasm approaching once more and you squeeze his fingers tight. a silent sign that he reciprocates as he throbs inside you, leaking loads of precum inside you.

and you cum, your walls squeezing so tightly he's not even sure how he hasn't dumped his load inside you. he forces his lips from your own in a desperate attempt to warn you.

"f-fuck, baby, i'm gonna cum. l-let me cum inside you, okay? please? i-i need to claim you, make you mines, th-those adeptal sigils aren't enough. need to - fuck! - need to mark y-you as mines, k-kay, baby?"

baizhu, beyond mortality

baizhu is a man who always gives but alas, he still has wants. he still has needs. he helped you out so long ago, and now, its only fair that you repay the favor, correct?

"stay still dear. if you keep moving, there'll be a punishment in store for you." baizhu doesn't even bother to look at you, only focusing on his papers as he gives your thigh a gentle pinch as warning. with your head tucked into the crook of his neck and you arms gently clawing at his back, you felt as if you could cry at any moment.

how couldn't you considering you had your boyfriend's thick, pulsing cock so deep inside of you and it was still? your walls clamped around him, eagerly trying to pull him in deeper, but baizhu stayed still. was this not punishment to him too?

to be so close to you? to feel you? to be balls deep inside you but not move? it was unfair, and you wanted to just grind your hips downwards, back and forth, up and down -- anything to feel him move inside you. his hips did not thrust upwards except once, when he used it as a warning. threatening you to be good or he wouldn't let you feel him at all. that you could just go back to humping his legs like a pathetic dog.

you should be grateful to even be on his cock -- to feel it pulse inside you in all it's hard, thick, pulsating glory. it's certainly an upgrade from grinding pathetically against his thighs and legs. at the thought of your prior punishment, you whined and squeezed your thighs around his hips harder.

you couldn't take it. he was still, not bothering to even look at you or help you at all. he was so mean, so cruel in these moments that you don't even regret what you're going to do. you unwrap your legs from his waist and lift yourself up, slamming yourself down on his cock.

yes, you're legs were sore from not moving for a while, but the look of shock on baizhu's face is enough to push you to keep going. you both moan at the feeling of finally having movement. lube runs down to the base of his cock as you don't falter for a second -- finding a steady rhythm of lifting yourself of and dropping yourself down while grinding to reach that spot that has your vision turning white.

it continues for only a minute, and when baizhu's shock finally wears off -- you were in for a surprise. his hands grasp your waist firmly, and he lifts you up and positions you on his desk. your back on various papers and pens as he looks down at you as if you were scum -- but lovingly.

he finds his own pace, one much faster than what you were going at and way more harsh that you thought he could even do. it was hot, seeing him panting, seething, upset but somehow still tolerating your bratty actions.

you can't even lift your hands to try to hold onto his neck, they scramble and hold onto the shaking, creaking desk baizhu pounds you on. his cock pistols deep inside you, and wet squelching along with the sound of skin slapping fills the room.

biazhu's cock reaches you in ways you can't imagine, especially now as it pounds into you so deeply. you squeal out his name as a particularly deep thrust reaches the most sensitive spot inside you. your vision goes white, and you clamp down on him so hard that all he can do is grit his teeth as a groan escapes him. his cock pulses once, twice, and one final time before long ropes of his white cum paint your insides.

he slowly rides himself through his orgasm before pulling out. a second later, his cum begans to drip out. you feel so full, but so empty as it leaks from you still clenching hole. baizhu pants, feeling content but not yet satisfied.

"b-baizhu-" you aren't allowed to finish your sentence, not when a squeak interrupts you after baizhu slaps your hole still dripping with his cum.

"don't think we're done yet dear. i thought i was letting you go easy with the cock warming, but you're just so ungrateful. so i guess i'll just have to fuck you until you learn your lesson, okay?"

(mondstadt vers.)

i kind of answered these two requests so here to my two lovely anons!

[prettyg1irlstears]

i js saw ur pillow princess reader x rafe blurb n its amazing !!

but how would rafe x gf!reader be when rafes friends have been bringing up about how it feels good when ‘the girl takes charge’ but she gets upset n self conscious cs she literally cant, shes js a pillow princess at heart !! she wld constantly ask rafe if shes good enough in bed, if its fine she cant ride him like his friends have been showing off :(((

first of all thank you!!<33 second of all i’m so sorry if i’m answering late, but i hope you’ll like it<3

softbf!rafe x sub!reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you’re in the large living room of tannyhill, a pretty sundress on while sitting of your boyfriend’s lap, listening to the conversation between him and his mates.

you were telling rafe that you’ll come tomorrow, that it’s fine if he wants to have a ‘all bro evening’, but rafe insisted on you staying, so you did, because you’re his good girl.

so here you are, playing with rafe’s fingers as the boys don’t bother to acknowledge or respect your presence and talk about their girls.

“bro, my girl’s wildin’ when she takes charge,” kelce boasted, smirking as he took a swing of his beer. “doin’ all the work, feels so good.”

your chest tugs anxiously, slightly squeezing rafe’s fingers as you listen.

“yea i feel ya, man,” topper adds, grinning as he high-fives kelce. “wish you could see the way sarah moves on me ‘cause like goddamn..”

you feel yourself getting uncomfortable, partly because they’re talking about their girlfriends like they were a piece of meat, but mostly because you know you’ll forever be a pillow princess.

“yo, top,” rafe feels jow uncomfortable you are, stroking your silky hair lovingly, thinking it’s just because the conversation’s too much for you. “it’s my sister, man, don’t be gross,”

“sorry bro, not my fault she’s freaky,” topper sneers, kelce chuckling along with him.

you withdrawn a little bit, nuzzling into rafe’s chest as your mind runs a marathon. you were never able to take charge, especially in bed. you and rafe tried it a few times, but you always get all shy and embarrassed, just simply not finding it in yourself to be dominant. but now, after you heard the boys’ conversation, you feel even worse than ever.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“you okay, baby?” rafe asks you softly. the boys have already left, you’re now helping rafe clean the beer cans and pizza boxes. he has noticed something’s off — he always does.

“mm good ray, just tired.” you fake a yawn and give him a small smile.

that seems to make rafe calmer, maybe he just doesn’t want to press you. he comes over to you, placing his hands on your waist. “can we still do sum’ or are you like really tired?”

you chuckle and look up at him. “no we can still do something.” because even though you still feel bad, you can still feel a little wet spot making itself in your panties just from that one simple sentence.

rafe smiles and kisses you, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your butt. “alright let’s get to bed, hm?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you thought it would make your mind go elsewhere, like always, but even when you’re a moaning mess under the muscular body of your boyfriend, you’re still thinking about it.

“what’s the matter, bunny?” rafe grunts into your neck as he kisses it, giving you long and deep thrusts.

“n-no, no!” you let out in a whimper, squeezing his shoulders. “please don’t stop.”

rafe smirks, slowing his pace even more as he bites on a soft spot of your neck. “then what is it?”

you whimper at that, but you can’t keep your worries inside anymore. “am i good enough for you?” as soon as these words leave your mouth, rafe stops, stilling inside of you, making you let out a small whimper of disapproval.

“baby.. baby look at me, will ya?” he gently takes your chin in his hand, making you look up into his eyes.

you look, his hand caressing your cheek as you look up at him with those puppy eyes of yours.

“why would you ask that?” he asks, his voice soft as he has no idea where this is coming from. “of course you are, you always were and always will, baby.”

“because i can’t ride you.. can’t make you feel good..” you say quietly, tears welling up in your eyes. “mm sorry rafe, i just can’t..”

“hey, hey, look at me, baby..” he makes you look at him again, his hands running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “that’s perfectly fine, bunny. you’re perfect, i swear to god,”

you’re looking into his eyes, nervously playing with his curtain bangs. “are you sure? ‘cause i felt really bad earlier..”

rafe chuckles a little, kissing your forehead. “baby, don’t listen to those two pricks. can’t appreciate their girls like i can apprexiate mine.”

he kisses your lips softly, slowly starting to move inside you again. “i love you being my little pillow princess.” he grunts at the movements, earning a tiny moan from you. “wouldn’t change for anything, baby.”

“you mean it..?” you ask, leaving out tiny whimpers as he moves slowly yet deeply, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“absolutely,” he whispers, kissing your lips while leaving out small moans. “don’t have any idea what you do to me like this.”

“alright..” you feel a shy smile growing on your lips, tugging on his hair as his tip hits that one spot inside you. “r-rafe.. please.. faster..”

“faster, yeah?” rafe smirks, increasing his pace, holding the side of your neck, earning sweet little moans from you that make his cock twitch inside of you.

“don’t need ya to take charge, baby..” he lets out a pretty moan into your ear. “js’ fucking you like this is enough for me to go absolutely crazy.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[pucksandpower]

Puppy Love

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of the tiny sausage dog who seems to take up every second of your boyfriend’s attention … but it sure feels nice when Leo decides he’s a mama’s boy and Charles gets a taste of his own medicine

You stroll into the spacious living room, eyes narrowing as you spot Charles sitting on the couch, a tiny dachshund puppy curled up contentedly on his lap. “Charles … what is that?”

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Surprise! Meet Leo, our new puppy.”

You shake your head slowly. “Our puppy? I don’t recall agreeing to get a dog.”

Charles scratches Leo’s velvety ears, eliciting a blissful tail thump. “I know, I know. But look how cute he is! I couldn’t resist.”

Crossing your arms, you try your best to seem stern despite the puppy’s heart-melting adorableness. “We haven’t even discussed this. A dog is a huge responsibility.”

“I’ve thought it through,” Charles insists. “Leo is the perfect breed for our lifestyle — small, low maintenance, and they make amazing companions.” He holds the drowsy pup up with a beseeching expression. “How can you say no to this face?”

You bite your lip, wavering. The puppy really is criminally cute with his soulful eyes and ridiculously long body. “Well … I suppose we could give it a trial run,” you concede. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Charles beams. “Deal! You’ll fall in love, I promise.” He sets Leo back on his lap, rubbing the puppy’s belly. “Who’s the best boy? You are!”

Watching them bond, a prickle of jealousy stirs in your chest. Is this what you signed up for — playing second fiddle to a canine?

Over the following days, Charles is utterly smitten, devoting every spare moment to Leo. He takes the pup everywhere, cooing over him incessantly and showering him with treats and toys. Meanwhile, you often find yourself … ignored.

“Charles? Are you listening?” You frown as he doesn’t respond, too busy dangling a chew rope just out of Leo’s reach in a teasing game.

You huff out a sigh. “I guess I’ll just make dinner for one then.”

Finally, he glances up with a distracted, “Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”

Throwing up your hands, you stalk into the kitchen, simmering with a childish sense of being replaced in your boyfriend’s affections. Stupid dog ...

A few nights later, you’re getting ready for bed when Charles appears in the doorway, Leo tucked under one arm like a furry purse. “Hey, I need to run out for a bit. Can you keep an eye on Leo?”

“What? Why?” You pause in the middle of removing your makeup.

Charles grimaces. “ I … may have waited until the last minute to get his puppy pads and food refilled.”

You groan. “Fine, I’ll watch him. But just this once!”

“You’re the best, thank you!” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before setting Leo down with a stern, “Be good for your maman, okay?”

He dashes out, leaving you staring at the puppy sitting innocently in the middle of the bedroom floor. Leo blinks up at you, tiny tail wagging.

For a long stretch, you simply regard each other in silence. Then, hesitantly, you sink down to sit cross-legged. “Well? What am I supposed to do with you?”

Leo waddles over, sniffing at your knee before clambering into your lap with surprising determination for such a little guy. You tense, unsure what to do as he turns in a few circles and settles with a contented sigh, warm weight pressing against you.

Huh … he’s actually kind of cuddly.

Tentatively patting his silky fur, you admit, “I can see why Charles likes you so much.”

Leo’s only response is a sleepy snuffle, lashes fluttering shut. Despite yourself, you can’t resist smiling at how peaceful he looks, tiny paws twitching as he dreams. Maybe this dog thing won’t be so bad.

That notion lasts until Leo startles awake with a high-pitched yelp, legs scrambling as he leaps off your lap and takes off running. “Leo? Leo!” You give chase, wincing as his claws skitter across the hardwood in his panic.

Finally, you catch up to him quivering under the living room sofa. “Oh no, it’s okay!” You stretch out on the floor, clicking your tongue soothingly. “Come here, little guy. I’ve got you.”

Leo whimpers, but after a few tense minutes of coaxing, he creeps out just enough for you to scoop him up. You settle back against the couch with him bundled in your arms, murmuring reassurances as he trembles.

“Shhh, you’re safe … good boy ...” You press a tender kiss between his floppy ears, stroking him until his quaking fades to contented wriggles. As your apprehension melts away, a fierce protectiveness blossoms in your chest. This precious little soul is yours to care for now.

When Charles returns, he pauses in the hallway, tilting his head quizzically at the sight of you reclined on the sofa with Leo completely passed out on your stomach. “Having fun over there?”

You glance down at the slumbering puppy with a soft smile. “Actually … yeah. I think Leo and I are going to be just fine.”

A delighted grin spreads across Charles’s face. “I knew you two would hit it off!”

Over the ensuing weeks, you find yourself increasingly enamored with your four-legged child. Leo shadows your every step, bouncing around underfoot until you inevitably scoop him up to snuggle close. You start pushing all the throw pillows together to create a special nest for him on the couch. Charles teases that you’re getting a little carried away with spoiling the pup rotten.

“Oh, hush,” you retort without any real bite, nuzzling Leo’s plush cheek. “My baby deserves nothing but the best, isn’t that right?”

“Baby?” Charles arches an amused brow. “I think someone’s going overboard.”

You stick out your tongue, cuddling Leo closer with a playful glare. “Don’t listen to your papa. He’s just jealous of our bond.”

“Hey, I’m not the one treating him like a literal infant!” Charles laughs, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s ears. But the puppy twists away with a protesting whine, burying his face against your neck.

Charles pauses, brow furrowing in a brief flicker of hurt. You think nothing of it until the same thing happens again at dinner … and on your evening walk around the block … and at bedtime when Leo kicks up a fuss about sleeping in his own bed instead of yours.

“Leo, come on!” Charles groans in frustration when the puppy darts under the dresser instead of coming to him. “What’s with you lately?”

He shoots you an aggrieved look, ruffling a hand through his tousled waves. “Ever since you started carrying him everywhere, he won’t leave your side. You’ve turned my own dog against me!”

You shrug innocently, scratching behind Leo’s silky ear when he peeks out to flash you an adoring gaze. “I can’t help it if he knows who his favorite parent is.”

“Favorite parent?” Charles splutters. “That’s my dog you’re talking about!”

You gasp in mock offense, gathering Leo up to press a loud smacker against his fuzzy head. “Don’t listen to him, baby! Papa’s just grumpy because I’m better at cuddles.”

Charles narrows his eyes at the giggling puppy now practically swimming in your embrace. “Is that so? We’ll see about that.”

He swoops in to snatch Leo away, cradling the squirming pup against his chest. “Who’s the favorite, huh? I’m the one who picked you out, you little traitor.”

But Leo simply strains back towards you, pawing at Charles’ arm with distressed whimpers until you take him back. He immediately settles with a contented sigh, licking your chin gloatingly as Charles gapes.

“Oh, that is war ...” Your boyfriend mutters, stalking away with hunched shoulders.

You blink after him in confusion before shrugging it off in favor of cooing over the dachshund. “Did mean old Papa try to take you from Mama? Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t let him.”

From that point on, a constant battle for Leo’s affections rages between you and Charles. He’ll try enticing the puppy with treats or toys, only for Leo to bypass them entirely in favor of your open arms. You can’t help but preen victoriously every time Leo cuddles into your embrace with a sigh of pure bliss.

“You’ve turned him against me!” Charles bemoans one evening as Leo dozes contentedly on your lap, stubbornly ignoring the tennis ball being waved enticingly in front of his nose. “What’s a guy got to do to get some puppy love around here?”

You smirk, idly stroking Leo’s velvety ears. “Guess he just prefers spending time with his one true love.”

“Yeah, yeah ...” Charles grumbles, but you catch the fond curl of his lips as he watches you fawning over the pup. He flops down beside you with a theatrical groan. “Unbelievable. Replaced in my own home by a hairy sausage.”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t call my baby such things!” Scooping up Leo, you pepper his fuzzy face with smooches until he squirms happily. “Did you hear what Papa said about you? He’s just jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Charles protests, even as his gaze tracks the gentle way you cradle the puppy. There’s a wistful edge to his voice when he murmurs, “Remember when you used to look at me like that?”

You pause, registering the plaintive note. Slowly, you shift Leo into the crook of one arm so you can reach out and cup Charles’ cheek with your free hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Aww, my poor baby,” you tease gently. “Don’t worry — there’s enough love to go around for both of you.”

Charles leans into your touch with a huff, darting eyes betraying how much he misses your undivided attention. “I’m starting to doubt that.”

“Well then, let me remind you ...” You lean in until your lips are a hair’s breadth from his, holding his gaze as you murmur, “I happen to have the world’s biggest, most annoyingly persistent crush on this one race car driver.”

A shiver ripples through Charles, his breath catching. Before he can respond, you close the scant distance in a searing kiss, lips molding hot and desperate as you pour every ounce of adoration into the embrace. Leo gives a disgruntled squeak at being squished between your bodies, quickly wriggling free to skitter off with an offended sniff.

You hardly notice, too busy mapping the contours of Charles’ mouth with hungry sweeps of your tongue, muffling his delicious groans by deepening the kiss. By the time you finally break apart, you’re both left panting harshly, gazes locked in a blissful haze.

“Still think I only have eyes for the dog?” You rasp, relishing the way Charles’ pupils are blown wide.

He swallows thickly. “You make a … convincing argument.”

“Mmm, I try.” You lean in to nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip with a sly grin. “But I’m more than happy to keep making my case ...”

Charles growls low in his throat, hauling you forward until you’re properly straddling his lap, bodies flush. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Breathless laughter spills from your lips as he surges up to capture them once more, hands roaming eagerly over your curves. In that heated moment, the puppy is forgotten as you pour all your focus into worshiping each other, affections firmly realigned.

Well … until a tiny bark sounds from nearby, followed by indignant grumbling and the patter of tiny paws. You reluctantly break the steamy kiss, rolling your eyes fondly as Leo hops up onto the couch to shove his way between the two of you.

“Easy there, troublemaker,” you chuckle, stroking the puppy’s silken fur as he clambers between you and Charles, yipping happily now that he has both his humans’ full attention. “See, baby? I told you there was enough love for all of us.”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “It’s a good thing he’s cute.”

You grin, leaning in to rest your forehead against his as Leo snuggles down with a contented sigh. In this perfect cocoon of warmth and adoration, you can’t imagine anything better.

And if the three of you stay snuggled up on that couch long into the evening, trading lingering kisses and delighted giggles as Leo’s little tail thumps happily … well, no one has to know.

[imasimpforshanks]

how they react when you randomly say “im so lucky to have you”

ft. luffy, law, zoro, sanji, ace, shanks

a/n: idk what this is but I thought of it! And it’s been a while since I’ve written headcanons/imagines like this so this is kinda weird and badly written this time LOL

with a giant grin plastered across his face, luffy’s response is instant and genuine, “im so lucky to have you too!” he laughs boisterous and bright as he continues, “that’s perfect isn’t it? im lucky to have you and you’re lucky to have me! we sure do make a great team.” you can’t help the way your body shakes with warm laughter at his sincerity.

there’s a moment of silence as law gathers himself. you think he didn’t hear you but then he coughs to break the silence and gain your attention. the tips of his ears are pink and he’s avoiding eye contact with you as he mumble his response, “yeah well, thanks for putting up with me.”

zoro pauses briefly turning to look at you with mild surprise. but before he’s even had time to fully process your remark, he finds his lips quirking into a smirk as you add on “i mean you are a bit of a moron, but you’re MY moron, ya know?” and with that he’s laughing the most he has in a while (but you’ve always had that affect on him, always made him feel things he didn’t think was possible), “you took the words right out of my mouth, dumbass.”

“my love,” sanji exclaims, “it’s me who should be considered the lucky one!” he gently reaches for your hand to bring it to his lips. he places a delicate kiss to each of your knuckles before continuing his sentiment, “i get to see your wonderful face and spend time with you each day. it’s far more than i am worthy of!” but then your eyebrows knit together and your lips are being pulled into a pout and sanji feels his love for you grow tenfold as you object to his statement, “you deserve all my love and affection!” and sanji concedes immediately because your word is law.

wordlessly, ace pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “you okay?” you ask, and the concern in your voice is enough to make his heart melt. “yeah, can we just stay like this for a little.” he whispers into your skin. you nod, understanding his need for this reassurance, “i mean it though, i really am lucky to have you.” and as you slowly run your fingers through his hair, ace whispers “i really really love you.”

a cheeky grin sneaks across shanks’ face “you sure are! i am pretty funny, sexy, caring, and intelligent.” you snort at his expected response, “not to mention humble.” he gasps in faux shock, “of course! how could I forget humble?!” as you burst into a fit of laughter so beautifully unrestrained shanks can’t help but think that out of the two of you, he is, most certainly, the lucky one.