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tink27 · 5 months

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Steddie ficlet (might do a follow up to show Eddie's reaction)

"He likes a boy"

after years of friendship, and being joined at the proverbial hip, Robin liked to think she could read Steve pretty well, however, his love of being just vague enough to confuse her made this difficult.

"who likes a what now?" still trying to get a read on Steve's feelings, but as of right now he just seemed, disconnected. Since showing up unexpectedly at her house, he had maintained that far-away sort of look that showed that even Steve didn't know what he was feeling.

"Eddie... he... we were hanging out and he" finally he fully met Robin's gaze, and the heartbroken edge to his vacant stare became evident "he was implying, heavily, that he likes me"

"... likes likes you?"

Steve's expression briefly switched to mocking disbelief at her childish choice of words, but he didn't have the energy for any kind of clever retort

"Yes Robin! like likes me!" throwing up his hands before allowing them to smack down against their Jeans ("their" because they fit them both and had been making the rotation between both Steve and Robin's wardrobe for months, she wasn't entirely sure who they belonged to to begin with, not that it mattered)

"And you're... upset?" This was baffling because in the months since Eddie returned for the upside-down, the two had never been closer. Far too many shifts consisted of Steve waxing poetic about Eddie while Robin vaguely tried to relate and be supportive. Although why Steve seemed so utterly smitten as he talked about Eddie's hair or musical elitism would never really make sense to Robin. But still, she saw how they were together.

Steve had a bad track record for love, pouring every part of himself into another person in a way that was truly heartbreaking to watch. However, it became significantly less heartbreaking when it was accompanied by Eddie's eyes following Steve around every room, and always looking to him in conversations no matter who was there because it was Steve's opinion and thoughts that mattered to him most. They truly were obsessed with each other, and honestly, Robin had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So Steve's stricken expression made no sense, nor did his frustration that Robin - despite being his platonic soulmate - didn't magically understand the issue he was having.

"I dont know Robs, its just he likes... Steve Harrington" his voice was defeated as he said it, but it still explained nothing

"....you're Steve Harrington" The confusion in her voice was evident "Am I missing something here, this isn't a 'King Steve' thing is it, because Eddie has made it pretty clear that he thought you were a jerk back then"

the noise of frustration from Steve showed she clearly had missed the point and never had she wished so badly to read her best friend's mind as when the tears began to well up in his eyes. She wanted to hug him, but knew from experience that Steve needed to get the thoughts out first.

There was a minute of silence that Robin had to try desperately to not break, every instinct wanting to spit out an awkward and unhelpful comment to lighten the mood, but she knew she just had to wait.

"I'm not..." the words seemed to get lodged in his throat, even those two words came out scratchy and uncomfortable

He squeezed his eyes shut "I'm not a boy"

Steve opened their eyes, with a desperate expression "I'm not a boy"

It was a statement but also a plea. Begging for Robin to know exactly what to say. She didnt.

"you're not a boy." Robin made sure to sound confident, at least she could pretend to know what she was doing. It seemed okay because they gave an awkward nod, head moving slightly too much for it to seem natural

"you're.... a girl?"

the tears seemed to spill the second she said it, and a choked noise lodged itself in their (her?) throat, but after a moment of panicked pause their eyes screwed shut and they nodded but also shrugged. Clearly just as confused by their discomfort as Robin is.

"Okay, thats okay Ste-" shit, stupid "that's okay babe, you're still you, and hey I might be... severely romantically challenged but even I know Eddie is obsessed with you"

there's a brief watery smile before the corners of her lips are pulled down "He likes Steve, he wouldn't like me"

"Horse shit" Robin wasn't as confident as she was trying to sound, but she knew that her best friend was still her best friend and that anyone who didn't adore her was an idiot (as all best friends know)

she moved to sit next to her friend who had ended up on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest, and once again the silence was allowed to stretch out before them, only broken up by heartbroken sniffles and shakey breaths

"so..." Robin wished more than any other moment that she wasn't so awkward "Not Steve?"

"I-" the thought gets broken off " It doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like it's me"

"whats you?" two words encapsulating a question that was near impossible to answer, but it still felt right to ask, to show that Robin wanted to know the answer.

the expression on her face showed that her friend also thought the question unanswerable, and a frustrated shrug fell from her

Robin hated that defeated expression, so she tried "Michelle?"

Clearly, the scrunched-up expression implied it wasn't a fit

"Hannah?" no not that

"Sarah?" seemed less disgusted but still no

"Becky?" okay back to disgust, moving on

"OH! Punch me if this sucks, but... Stevie?" Robin felt the need to justify her choice, showing that she wasn't just trying to make her keep her old name "Like Stevie Nicks! I could see that, dye your hair blonde, get some bangs"

the comment about changing her hair was obviously met with a scowl, but after a soft smile found its way onto her face "Stevie feels better"

Robin had never felt so smart, she was a fucking genius "Stevie is it babe"

Stevie spent moments looking at her, seemingly deep in thought before softly speaking "Thank you Robin"

it seemed too formal for them, to say it so directly with her name like that, but she could tell that Stevie was really grateful so Robin held back the tears (one of them had to be the butch one in this relationship)

"no problem babe" it was spoken just as softly as the thanks, and for now it seemed enough

"Now, tell me what happened with Eddie"

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lizleeships · 1 year

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A sleepy doodle based off that one super cute cockles pic. There’s an accompanying ficlet here.

(Don’t repost please, but reblogging is fine :)

If you like my stuff, buy me a ko-fi! I LOVE CAFFEINE :D

#destiel #destiel fanart #destiel fluff

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azullumi · 4 months

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“it’s a quarter after one, i’m all alone, and i need you now” ; wanderer

summary — how does he react to you calling him in the middle of the night over some silly reason?

pairing — wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, modern settings, not proof-read (i never proof-read) ; ficlet/scenario

words — 760

note — how do people even write dialogues rhat smoothly like i write a single sentencd of whatever they’re saying and i just think, “oh no they won’t say that” and i have to rewrite it 5 more times

a loud sound of a ring echoes throughout the room, disrupting the peaceful flow of tranquil silence that rests in the corners of the place, and abruptly pulling him out of his sleep. wanderer groans, hand reaching out to grab his phone that sits on the nightstand.

the flash of the screen blinded him for a moment, causing him to squint his eyes until his vision adjusted to the brightness.

1:15. the numbers on the very top of his screen says. displayed along with it was your caller id, your contact saved as a nickname that he gave you.

although he didn’t have to question who was calling him at this time as he knew it was you—you were the only exception to his do not disturb focus of his phone, the only contact whose notifications can go through the strict barriers of the status.

the persistent melody continues to ring for a moment before he answers, “this better be important.” despite the nature of his words, there lingered no hint of malice in his tone but instead, a curious blend of weary patience and unspoken understanding. he didn’t mind you bothering him even if it’s nothing important—your intrusion was always a welcome one.

“hey, were you sleeping?”

“not anymore, obviously. what is it?” the line carried the subtle rustle of movement, the telltale sound of rustled sheets, as wanderer shifted and sat upright from where he was, his head resting against the headboard as he waited for you to answer.

“can you accompany me as i go get water?”

a confused ‘huh?’ comes out from his line. just the single syllable itself wrapped with layers of many words, asking you if you were seriously saying that. if you really called him at this time just so you could have him accompany you with the mundane task of getting water.

“i just watched something scary, okay? it’s not my

fault that the house in the movie looked similar to mine and also do you know what time—don’t laugh!”

“are you genuinely afraid over something as trivial as that?” wanderer says amidst the fading echoes of his laughter, leaving a ghost of what might pass for a smile on his expression. he seems amused over the predicament that you were having; that is just like him, finding entertainment in your suffering.

“whatever, i’m going to go get my water now.” what proceeded was the sound of your footsteps, indicating your journey to the kitchen. “don’t you dare hang up on me.”

“i wasn’t planning to.”

and as if i would. but the unspoken words dissolved on his throat before he could even get himself to say it, leaving him with nothing but silence as he listened to your voice instead, talking about whatever as if a soothing balm that eases the fear which nestles in your nerves.

“i saw this cat earlier this morning and it was so grumpy. it reminded me of you.”

“you think that in every grumpy cat that you see.”

“well, you act like one.”

in that moment, the simple act of conversing between you two becomes a lifeline, bridging the gap between fear and solace. your topics jumped from one point to another, never letting the silence fill in the moment—wanderer never ceases to respond to whatever you say, a testament of how he’s always there for you despite the playful teasing sprinkled throughout.

there was the sound of the door closing before he hears you say: “got my water now.”

“figured.”

silence envelopes both sides of the line, albeit, it only lasted for a short moment before being broken up by your voice.

“thanks for picking up the phone.” i mean, he could have chosen to just ignore the ring and continue to sleep but no, he didn’t. instead, he chose to answer and comply with your silly little request because your ass was too scared to go out of your room in the middle of the night, thinking that someone or something was going to come after and chase you just like that one scene in what you watched. he stayed with you all throughout, letting the comfort of his voice dispel the shadows that threatened to linger—even when he was scaring you and telling you that he can hear something.

“not like i don’t answer every time.” you could call him, ring his phone many times no matter what time it is, and he would pick up the phone every single time; that’s just how he is, for you and only you.

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toorurs · 15 days

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a polished stone swept to the shore

synopsis: a night sky full of stars and questions. aventurine can't help but wonder what significance he has to you.

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 1.0k | content and warnings: insecure!aventurine, hurt/comfort, bit of aventurines backstory | ficlet

authors note: dropping this in the night where aventurine realeases jsjejjwwj. also im not really content with how this turned out due to the ending being quite short and rushed.

tags: @azullumi

“what am i to you?

the words nip into the tense atmosphere, ascending into the air like a plump balloon, floating around until a gust of wind blows by and lets it drift away into the distant sky that is draped in the misty blanket of clouds.

“what am i to you?” can be interpreted as two different things. the meaning varies from one to another, depending on how one perceives the question.

“you’ll wait for me won’t you?” a question where every letter plays a significant role. but still, they take over the same role, the letters are equal to one another. fragile, delicate, unsure words that are drowning in uncertainty, that’ll eventually be unable to float above the surface. instead they’re being led to his blood, infusing it with the ugliness of insecurity.

(but to aventurine it’s a familiar emotion, one he’s been acquainted with ever since he was a child - it’s not a novel feeling. after all, it has always been like this. every time, when he felt a tad of excitement he mistook it as the adrenaline rushing and pumping through his blood, only to be hit with the realization that it was uneasiness - it has always been uneasiness. his hand that trembles under the duvet grips the bed sheets tightly, clutching at the sateen fabric with his fingertips, as he awaits your answer.)

“what am i to you” also translates into “why do you love me? how come you love me? what significant role do i play to be held like this?” puzzlement is the noun that depicts these questions well. he doesn’t understand but at the same time he does. when you love someone, you’d learn and get to know all of their flaws, all of their struggles and problems, all of their wretchedness and misfortune.

absurd to think that someone who was blessed by a sheer amount of luck experiences misfortune. he’s the blessed one, his luck is a protective charm that keeps him at a distance, but at the same it is also a curse. his good fortune, the good luck that accompanies him is like a blade, a sharp weapon that leaves scars and inflicts pain, to none other than himself. it's his protective charm, the one that preserves him from the cruel world - although everything he wanted to protect was his family.

he doesn’t understand why it was him, why he had to be gifted with this so-called fortune. he loathes it for making him the sole survivor of his nation, he resents it because he survived every tragedy that fell upon him like the rain. the rain that fell on the day of his birth, the gift of the god, or rather her tears? but he can’t help but love his luck, the only fragments, the only remnants he has left of his beloved parents, sister and kakavasha.

but then again, was his luck the one that made the two of you cross paths?

was it a mere coincidence that he fell in love with you and you reciprocated those feelings? but how come?

aventurine wishes to understand.

aventurine isn't the sun. he's not the one that spreads warmth over the people, he isn’t the one who was tasked to make their hearts pump in joy. he doesn't fulfill any of the criteria to be considered a star that shines brighter among the others. even if he were, he’d be all alone, surrounded by his own warmth, a coat draped over his body. aventurine isn't the one that people yearn for when they feel upset.

aventurine isn't a god. he doesn't possess any powers that'd be considered out of this world. he's not the one people stride after and look up to, not the one people plead and pray to when in need. he isn't able to take away the wounds of others, rather, he's the one who inflicts them. scarring their frail skin and putting it in a painful condition, staining dirt.

aventurine is simply just the gem. but, without the sage green crystal he wouldn't even be considered as aventurine. he wouldn't be the gambler that is bound to the shackles of the ipc. he wouldn't be the final victor then, the one that has each and every move precisely planned out. those are the traits that make him aventurine. without them he'd just be a rock then, a mere pebble to be kicked around. abused and tormented by others, used as nothing else but a stepping stone. cheap, worthless, useless, like the loser he is.

he doesn't understand what you see in a hollow shell like him.

“what you mean to me, you ask? your voice resembles the rain outside that is currently kissing the glass of the windowpane and platters against the big windows. It’s a comforting sound that soothes him and lulls him into a peaceful slumber.

“mhm.” aventurine hums in agreement and tries to stay as quiet as possible, fearing that he might break this dainty moment if he were to utter a sound too loud.

“well.” you say in an amused tone. “if you really wanna know, you're like a prince, prince charming kind of?” your voice cracks a bit at the last part, its sweet aventurine thinks.

“oh yeah? how come?” aventurine tries to sound confident, masking his curiosity with certainty.

“well you know. i’m like the damsel in distress and you’re the knight whom i wait for. you know in those fairytales, when they wait for an eternity for someone to rescue them and immediately fall in love head over heels with their savior who never gave up on them even after so many failed attempts from others and himself, right?” you ask him.

(aventurine isn't too well acquainted with fairy tales. he never got to read them when growing up, he never had the chance nor the opportunity to do so.)

“yeah of course.” aventurine plays it off smoothly, fearing that you might question or judge him and his past. (he knows you wouldn’t but he can’t help to think so.)

“well, there you got your answer!” you giggle.

your words translate into: i’d always wait for you, even if it meant to wait for an eternity. but they also translate into: you’re determined to have me, to know me, to love me and so do i.

aventurine isnt the sun, neither a god. the man that you had lying beside you was the man of your dreams - or rather your fairytales.

e/n: it's 1 am and i have a math exam tmrw which i havent learned for, instead i wrote this 😔😔 © TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine imagines #aventurine x gn reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #aventurine x you #toorurs #—stellaronhvnters.

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privitivium · 3 months

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thinking about a closet-perverted feminine man whos very into leopard print, pink w/ chunky highlights who has the hots for you so badly in a way he's all confident around others but around you he's shy and awkward hngnghgh

i plan to actually make fics/oneshots with better punctuation overall instead of these short little ficlets,,,, but most of the time i be drained for no apparent reason. Wtfrick. i might rewrite this idea soon. tis rushed and sloppy, fast paced,, wrote in mostly one sitting,,, horrayy!!

;; masturbation,, he jerks you off. Is a creep

Sampson.. he is not one to care for compliments from strangers nor friends, but still immensely appreciated the gesture.. a small, 'aw thaaanks!' in gratitude to those mentioned, but when you compliment him - it doesn't compare to the others, even if it is merely as simple as commenting on how cool his belly-button piercing isㅡ'uaah... thank you,,,' he would murmur more earnestly, his voice growing higher in pitch - an unconscious quirk he does when speaking to you,,,

he thinks coming off as more feminine overall would appeal to you - unaware of your sexual orientation despite asking around.. no one really cared to ask you and you didn't really care to tell people.. you didnt date anyone on campus or off campus, no long distance or anything! What was Sampson supposed to do with that information??? Was he supposed to assume you were a virgin or just not interested in anyone??? well,, rest assured, he's gonna fucking find out, mhm!!

Sampson's a perverted guy, alright? He can admit that. Warm tan and toned body completely bare and sprawled out on top of his sheets, haphazardly stroking along his length of his single apartment.. pink tip beading the pearlescent thickness he longs to imagine as yours, and he lathers his palm - mixing it with the fucking lotion that was apart of his "jerking off routine". stroking along his length at a slow pace, wanting to drag this out.. his lamp at a low tone, barely lighting up the room but just enough to see the naked bodies strung out along the magazine pages. he was just trying to find someone that looked like you,, wait ,, how could he be so stupid??

he pulls his sticky hand away from his cock lazily, tossing the magazine to the ground and hurriedly rushes for his phone - bringing up your social media.. you don't post alot, much to his distaste, but you still have pictures of you.. all by yourself, usually, much to his merriment!!! ending the session with a burst of hot, seed all over his hand and blanket, having his phone-holding hand up to his face like a little freak, merely admiring your form! you post yourself at the gym - posing for fellow gym bros and something else about receiving criticism in the caption.. not that he cared to read it during the moment, more focused on busting over himself.. ahem.

The next day, uneventful. No classes besides in the late afternoon, caught up with everything.. nothing to do.. so he decides to do what he usually does. Stalk his gallery full of pictures of you. Various taken with consent, some without.. merely admiring, while sipping on an iced coffee with pink glossy lips.. he styles himself as every other day to impress you… he found that lavender colors are more appealing to you - which he was currently dressed in accompanied with low-rise skinny jeans that were practically compressing his genitals into his body.. his “chunky” highlighted hair parted to the side and tucked behind his ears and thoroughly straightened.. caught up in admiring himself, he was disturbed by the message from a friend.. inviting him out. What else did he have going on? besides admiring your pictures… it couldn't hurt, sampson supposed begrudgingly..

Imagine his excitement, when catching sight of you with your shared group of friends at the meetup spot!! Trying to hide his excitement and appear neutral as he neared the restaurant, and spotting a chair open next to you,, hurriedly, ahem, slowly, he makes his way toward the table full of friends and companions, indulging in meaningless conversation and questions about what to do for the day.. the others, a duo, complaining about having a day full of tutoring at theㅡ he didn't bother listening after that, more caught up in what you were adding to the conversation..

“Oh, yeah! If you don't have anything going on right now, why not come back with me?” You offer a half-grin that looked more like a half-smirk that made his heart tremble - friends knowingly glancing at each other and whispering incoherently with one another across the table. “Of course..!! I would love to...” Sampson grinned broadly, glossy lips stretched into a pretty smile,,

he was so excited,, being invited over by his crush - his future lover?? he could practically feel the swell of arousal building up underneath his low-rise jeans.. curse him and his skinny jeans! damn!

i mean, being brought to ur shared house where all ur housemates can promptly ogle him as he walked by, definitely made his heart tremble.. practically vibrating in excitement knowing that you were the one holding his hand and leading him up the staires carefully rather than anyone else,, it felt surreal,, leading him up to ur room as if you were leading him up the stairs to fuck after a night of drinking,,. he really needs to stop thinking like this. he has nothing to cover his future boner with+!!!

you showcase the hall - odd pictures and most certainly random trinkets decorating the interior and shelves... his heartbeat speeding up to a disgustingly uncomfortable pace, that still felt damn good, as you neared your bedroom at the end of the hall.

immediately began admiring your room, absolutely marveling. like woah,, this is the place where you jerk off?? and he then spends a moment imagining where and how you do it,, on the bed,, on the chair,, at the window,, an audible grunt leaves his lips as he shivers, shaking himself free of the thoughts in an attempts not to get a boner which you obviously take notice; innocently thinking the absolute innocent annoyingly enough, "oh, hey.." you frowned, eyes raking over sampson's figure briefly before stepping toward him, "are you cold?? here, have a blanket, man!" you grinned broadly, laughing softly as you reached over him; offering one of the throw blankets that were folded at the end of your bed..

“Thank you..!” He shivers, holding the blanket around his body akin to a tent,, hugging himself. “You're so thoughtful..” receiving a nod and a pat on the shoulder, before abruptly pulling away at the sound of a ding coming from your cellular device,,

Checking your phone and - “I'll be back real quick!..” you tell him, leaving the room and closing the door behind you,, immediately, he takes the time to snoop - reaching for under the bed. It's where he hides his stash, so why not look there first? And, how predictable.. a box, he pulls from underneath the bed and looks through its’ contents - your thundering footsteps nearing - and he sees that it's all,, pornography,, various polaroids of hardened dicks, yours, he recognizes funnily enough??

“What are you doing -??” Your worried voice breaks his focus, and how stupid of him,, “that's.. not cool..” you clear your throat while staring down, the door closed behind you, hurt and obviously embarrassed as you catch sight of what exactly is in his handsㅡprivate stuff, bro!!

“W-Wai-t!” His voice breaks, dropping the pictures carelessly as he springs up and makes his way toward you - trembling with a pretty ,, obvious bulge pressing against the fabric of his jeans. "j-just watch me.. just watch me. Please." Sampson breathes, hand ghosting over your jaw before tugging you gently toward your messy bed. Voice low and amber eyes half-lidded as he presses against your body, on top of you and - his knee finding its’ way in between your legs and lewdly compressing against your clothed soft cock.. the mere feeling of it sending waves of excitement through his smaller, stronger frame., he squirms against you, fiddling with your shirt but not making any move to pull it off.,,

“okay..! okay, no worries.. it-it's okay..” you choke out, concern washing over your lackadaisical expression and worry taking hold of your bold tone, observing sampson and fidgeting against him to get your crotch away when his knee presses against your dick - clothed or not.. you're sure he felt up the shape of your muscle.. your heart thumps against your chest and you're sure he feels that too-!! “I-I'll watch you do whatever..” You swallow thickly, a little unsure - remembering your friends downstairs.. the lock on the door..

Sampson's eyes, pupils blown wide as if he were on drugs as he stares up at you - being pressed against you sends butterflies through his belly, and he worries briefly about throwing up on you,, “i like you,, i like you so much..” he breathes out - jaw clenching shut as his lips thin, it was a mere slip of the tongue-!

“woah.. you like me??” Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise, a smile of disbelief slipping onto his lips, immediately forgetting what exactly you caught him doing - smile stretching wide as you place your hand along his shoulder, feeling the faux lavender underneath, certainly not minding being pressed against your bedroom wall by such a pretty man who was staring up at you with doe-like eyes..,,. “No way you like me..”

“ㅡGod, yes , I fucking like you.. i love you.. i- i have a crush on you, yes.” He corrects, not wanting to scare you off so suddenly - not wanting to ruin whatever the fuck was happening - and definitely not wanting to move away, unwilling to showcase his erection,, you probably felt it though.. and yet, you're not moving away, huh??? must be Sampson's lucky day.. “.. you wouldn't mind if i did,, this?” He punctuates his words with action, pursing his lips as he places his cupped hand along your groin - to which you jolt in surprise and merely staring at his pretty face, not yet moving - sampson's fingers experimentally worming around and finding the soft length of your cock over your comfortable pants.. “do you?” his breath hitches - face burning uncomfortably as he stares up at you, wide eyed as if shocked that he'd ever get so far..

Choking out a soft, “no..” ultimately unable to look him in the eye as you feel the swell of heat building up from Sampson's stimulation,,

“Fucking.. gorgeous.. so beautiful.” He would shudder out, voice breaking while his spit-covered hand wrapped around the base of your half-hard cock - unable to keep himself away from you - wondering what it'd feel like inside him ,, and he finds himself gripping your cock and squeezing at the tip, wanting to be as close as possible while he slowly jerks you off, humming in contentment while sitting on your lap with his nose buried in your neck and inhaling your scent - ever so slightly rocking his hips against your thigh. Never did he think that the day after masturbating, he'd be the one jerking you off and getting himself off on your thigh,,

“i'll give you some material to masturbate to so you won't have to use those magazines..” he'd tease breathlessly, somehow willing himself to voice his thoughts,, hrrmm

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#x male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #x top male reader #feminine male character #dom male character #male reader

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kirui · 1 month

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The rough sketch was started and left to languish in 2018. Six years. It took me SIX years to do something with it. And all it really required was for me to decide to return to my crack-ridden roots. (There's now a link on my main page to all my stupid multi-fandom fancomics and 4koma nonsense.)

Accompanying crack ficlet here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54778528

Back to Angry Grape Jiujiu content after this.

#wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #jin ling #ouyang zizhen #魔道祖师 #mo dao zu shi #kirui's art #kirui's fic #4koma but not really #fan comic #did I completely forget about LWJ's back scars? yes I did. Did I rectify that oversight in the fic? Absolutely not #this will probably be the last time I do anything wangxian related #six years is a long time--honestly I came back into fandom solely to indulge in my now greater jiang cheng appreciation #drink in moderation kids

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tasteracha · 8 months

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a/n: a teensy little ficlet for my lils wife @gimmeurtmi's birthday!!! i hope you have the absolute best day and weekend my love i am hugging you and kissing your head <3<3<3

it’s your birthday - you expect to be looked after, waited on hand and foot, treated like a goddess sent from the heavens. and you are, for the most part; seungmin tends to not do anything without a small complaint though, so your home-cooked breakfast was served to you with an exaggerated sigh, your nails were painted perfectly with a roll of his eyes, and he covered the both of you in a blanket so that the two of you could cuddle together while you watch your favorite movie with a fond shake of his head.

little acts of service accompanied by snark, as if he couldn’t catch himself loving you, or something. it’s okay, because you know that he does - the ring he put on your finger a few months ago has it engraved on the inside of the band, and it’s not like he can take back the sweet things he said to you when he was on one knee now.

and as such, with the way the day has gone you fully expect you to be taken to bed at night, laid down on the pillows and allowed to be a princess while he ravished your body with his hands and mouth. perhaps a small comment about how desperate you were, how wet he was making you, or something along those lines.

he had other plans though, evidenced by the way he pushes you to your knees near the foot of the bed after he walks you into the bedroom instead of coaxing you into the sheets.

“is my pretty girl ready for her dessert?” he asks, sliding a hand into your hair and scratching at your scalp, leaving you a bit overwhelmed. his hand sends zings of pleasure running through you, and you barely notice the hardness of the floor under your knees in favor of focusing on the way your head spins and your mouth begins to water.

this was seungmin, after all. if you had learned anything about him in the years you’ve been together, it’s that you can’t really ever prepare for him - he was always going to catch you off guard, and you loved it.

he unzips his pants slowly, each tiny metallic sound matching the drumbeat of your heart as he finally frees himself from his boxers and strokes his half-hard cock. his other hand leaves your head, resting just under your chin so he could thumb at your bottom lip.

“can you get wet for me?” he asks, the most polite thing he’s said all day to you. you know he means your mouth, and you let your spit pool up in it, but you can’t help the way you begin to leak into your underwear too. he feeds you his cock centimeter by centimeter, letting you suckle on the top of it before sliding in until he reaches the back of your mouth - not enough to make you gag, but it’s a close thing. he knows your body in and out though, knows exactly how much is teetering on the edge of too much.

“slow,” he instructs, a little breathless as you start to hollow your cheeks around him. “you want to savor your dessert right? this is a special occasion, after all.”

you groan and your eyes flutter shut, and you let the weight of him rest on your tongue. his hands weave back into your hair, holding you in place as he thrusts shallowly in and out of your mouth. you let him have his moment for a minute, sinking into a floaty haze, but it’s not enough.

it’s your birthday, and if you want to suck his goddamn cock then you will.

your eyes snap open as you begin to suck on him in fervor, a bit messy and wet but you know he likes it like that. you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before swallowing him down, pulling noises out of him that he rarely lets out unless he’s caught off guard. you pull out every move, the dirtiest licks and flicks of your tongue accompanied by you humming around his length, and you know when he gets close by the way his knees buckle a bit and his hands tighten in your hair.

he pulls you off of him with a hiss, panting as he he strokes himself off over you. his free hand cups your face and holds you right where he wants you, chin up so you're staring right into his eyes. you can see the pleasure take over his face and he whispers happy birthday, baby just as the splashes of his release coat your eyelids, the curve of your mouth, the bridge of your nose.

you’re both breathing hard as he calms down, removing his pants before helping you up your feet. he sets you onto the bed and kneads at your thighs with his big hands, leaning in to kiss you without a care in the world towards his come on your face.

“you had your dessert,” he dances his fingertips into the waistband of your shorts, toying at the lacy material of your underwear. “now it’s time for mine.”

–

“i know you said that you were my dessert,” you yawn, much later, pushing your face further into his chest that you had repurposed as a pillow. “but you did get me a cake, right?”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #seungmin imagines #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin imagines

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moominsuki · 9 months

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✎ᝰGOJO SATORU ; — hot and heavy on wheels

࿄ ! warnings - afab!reader. car sex, fingering, porn with no plot, piv, unprotected sex, creampie. / note. my first ficlet in a long while :} i’m on a gojo craze now idk he’s just perfect. minors & blank blogs dni!

mall shopping with gojo is difficult. well, to preface, it’s not difficult in the sense that he spoils you and buys you what you want without so much as a question or a plead of your round eyes. and he carries round the plethora of bags and boxes from all the shops you got lured in to without a sigh or even a noise of complaint.

it’s more so difficult because after the whole ‘ordeal’ is over, the white haired man has a look in his eye that can only be attributed to feeling a bit frisky. you chalk it up to the fact that you allowed him to sit in the dressing room while you frequented between ann summers and the like - not allowing so much as a grip to the back of your thighs and slapping his hands away when gojo tries to bite at your clavicle and grab at your ass.

“have i told you that you’re impossible?” you groan as gojo noses wet kisses at your jaw, practically throwing you in the back of his g-wagon. he’s so incredibly impatient - so much so that you scold him for throwing the delicate paper bags so haphazardly in the boot of his car and trying to kiss you so brazenly in the open parking lot.

the man chuckles, “maybe once or twice, but that’s what you like about me,” as he clambers over you to surround your smaller body with his much larger one - lifting your thigh to wrap around his nimble clad waist. you’d never admit this to your boyfriend’s face (so as to avoid the upturn of his lips falling into a smug-laced smile) but you love the days where he’s dressed and looks like this - he’s in navy blue dress trousers and a henley to match, pastel hued locks falling over his head and opaque lenses dropping from his nose bridge and he’s biteable like this - so biteable that it makes you want to tease him, rile him up so that he falls prey to your charm and sway of your hips. and while gojo does pride himself in being omniscient or whatever is along those lines, his head turns to mush when you bat your pretty eyelashes at him.

gojo sits up between your legs, pulling down the frilly straps of the pale pink summer dress that he got you (it cost a pretty penny but you thanked him religiously after so he thinks he won that trade off) to reveal your breasts and he smiles, more to himself than anything, leaning down to take a pert nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. you reel at the feeling, hands finding immediate purchase in his fluffy locks and you don’t stop the whimper that leaves your plump, bitten lips.

“so receptive, aren’t you, pretty?” he asks and it’s more than likely rhetorical because he carries on pulling down the dress down your waist, until you can shake it off your ankles and it falls somewhere underneath the backseat, accompanied by his top in mere seconds.

nimble fingers creep their way down to where you really want him and his hand sneaks into your panties, smearing your desire all over fingertips so he can really get a feel and you’re writhing, all impatient and embarrassed under the heavy crystal gaze of the man, his milky lashes batting against his cheekbones.

“so wet f’me, fuck, pretty girl,” he whispers, leaning back down to press hardened kisses at your neck and collarbones - to prepare you for the two long fingers that slip into your pussy and you clench, both outward and inward.

the sound of your sloppy cunt meeting the knuckles of gojo’s hand is so incredibly loud and so incredibly wet - and he chuckles again when you try to close your eyes to ignore the stare of his ocean blues zeroing in on your facial expressions.

“wish you could see how well this pretty lady opens up for me,” and the half baked praise makes you burn, tears brimming as your damp lashes bat against your flushed cheeks. one of your hands wraps around gojo’s neck so you can place chaste, messy kisses on his mouth (lest another lewd word comes out as you’re pretty sure you could come just by his expansive and quite sexual verbiage) and the other wraps pathetically around his own that’s exploring the depths of your tight wet cavern that’s clenching sporadically.

gojo is always so messy with it: smearing your wetness all over the expanse of your cunt lips to tease at your sensitive pearl with ease; not before dipping a third finger back inside and searching for that cakey spot inside you. you cry out a meaningless, “‘toru, i-i’m- can’t, hnngh,” your hand making a weak attempt at slowing his fast acting wrist but he laughs again, like he always does when you get like this.

“need’ya to come all over my fingers, baby, can you do that?” and just like that, he sets you off, and he lifts a hand for your lolling head to fall back as the weight of your simmering climax hits you like a freight truck, damp thighs tightening over his hand and an aroused, “just like that, yeahhhh, good girl, good girl,” echoes around the jeep, which doesn’t do much to quell the overall stifling thirst in your gut.

gojo acts fast, in everything that he does, and today is no different when he slides your panties down your slender legs and strips himself till he’s nothing but washboard abs and a hardened, tan cock. he sets himself on his haunches - between your legs and your arms find purchase around his wide shoulders, and you find yourself unable to stop the kisses that press along his jugular. he’s told you this multiple times but you tend to get extremely needy after an earth shattering orgasm (his words, not yours) but he welcomes the doting nonetheless, placing himself around your head and he leans down to slot his lips against yours. you mewl when he bites down at your lower lip and the minty, citrusy taste of his tongue can only be attributed to the peppermint gum he was chewing before and the taste of yours truly.

gojo leans up once more, cerulean blues darkened and dilated.“ready for me? gonna put it in. nice and slow, just how-”

“just stop talking and do it already!”

he tuts teasingly at the raise of your voice, “so impatient.” the head of his cock knocks on your clit a couple times, running between your folds and you’re about to snap back when his cock finds purchase at the first ring of your cunt hole.

his girth sinking in and stretching you wide, his answering whine almost louder than yours, eyes threatening to clamp shut as he feeds you the long stretch of his cock. the scratchy, high pitched noise that leaves the your throat shocks the both of you and you’re suddenly reminded just how different his fingers feel from the weight of his fat cock, the puffed up veins brushing against your tender walls.

the air in the backseat of his car makes your bodies slippery with sweat - the windows are clouded with the condensation of your meandering while you squirm underneath him, your breath wheezing out of your lungs until you can’t breathe. “look at that.”

“wish you could see yourself, princess,” he gasps, a cavalier smirk on his lips but it falters when you squeeze ‘round him just right, sore cunt fluttering against the hard swell of his cock. his dark blues dim, blunt fingernails opting to stop digging into your squishy sides for leverage not to fuck deeper but to instead grip under the seat you’re on to slow himself down, because even after all this time, you feel too fucking good and he needs a minute, damn it, he’ll cum too fucking fast and you won’t get to cum at all-

the rest is a mirage, lost in the way you’re splayed out for him now, knees now bent to your shoulders and his long fingers desperately digging into the backs of your trembling thighs to hold them in the air. the position is only slightly uncomfortable and you thank your lucky starts that you’re flexible, (you kind of have to be when gojo likes to fold you in various positions) but even if it was, you don’t care, not when he’s got your breasts bouncing mutely, with his chest pressed against your jiggling ones, with each repeated, dirty slam of the tip of his cock right up against your womb until you can practically feel him in your stomach, in your throat: stealing the uncontrolled moans right from your voice box.

“look at you, squirtin’ all over me, angel,” gojo groans, stamping down the fast advent of his orgasm as arousal streams down the curve of your ass, wetting the expensive seats of his mercedes. watching the way your swollen, puffy pussy spasms and tries to force him out but it only makes him drive deeper, his pace brutal— his hips and upper back rouged red from the friction of your bodies slapping together and the digging of your manicured nails between his shoulder blades. “prettiest pussy in the whole world. you know that? wanna give you everything you want and more.”

you keen at the praise, tears dribbling down your face now, “‘toru, ‘toru, ‘s too much, i-hahhhh- ‘m gonna make a mess,” you babble mindlessly. “wan’ you to cum inside me plea- pleash, pleashhh.”

“ohh, shouldn't have said that, sweet girl. ooooh, f-fuck. you shouldn't. have- hah - said. that. fuck fuck fuck, i'm gonna put my cum right here,” he chants desperately, a big hand splaying out on your belly, pressing down hard when the head of his cock bulges against your lower tummy, as his thumb dips low, circling your sticky clit almost impatiently. the words punctuated by the heavy slap of his balls against your ass, the backseat hitting violently against the ground. his spine tenses, orgasm building in the pit of his gut and he can’t wait to feel it, to see the dribble of his cum seep between your folds. “you want it, huh? gonna take care of it f’ me, aren’t you? promise ‘toru you won't spill a drop on the seats?”

“yes, yes, i prom- promise, please ‘toru, wan’ you to cum inside me so bad!” you whine loudly and gojo leans even more forward to place a hand against the condensation on the car windows, eyes falling shut and beads of sweat dripping down and pooling in the dip of your bellybutton as he continues crowding your every senses with his smell, his stature, his everything.

gojo dramatically collapses on top of you and you sigh, having to hold onto him so you don’t slip and fall naked bottom to the hard floor of the backseat, “do you have to do that every time, satoru?”

he chuckles breathily, “no, but you like it.” you don’t reply to that, just wrap your arms tighter around him as gojo kisses your damp hair and you manoeuvre a hand to brush away the hair that sticks to his forehead.

“you know you can get up now?” you deadpan, slightly breathless and gojo ponders before snuggling closer to you.

“yeah but if i pull out, you might get cum all over the seats and i don’t know if i could explain the stain to the guy who cleans my car.”

“…remind me to never take you shopping again,” you roll your eyes, pushing him off with your hands pinching at his hips and gojo slips out with a yelp at your assault and gasps, with as much melodrama he can: “it’s already getting on the seats! quick, hmmph-”

gojo shuts up with the press of your tongue in his mouth and he’s even quieter when he feels his spent cock harden against the thigh strewn across his stomach.

he may drop a pretty penny on you whenever you beg him to take you shopping but you drop an even prettier one when you wrap a hand around his neck and pull him down to lose yourself in another round once more.

besides, what’s one more stain to have to awkwardly explain to the cleaners?

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk thirsts #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x y/n #IDK WHY THIS REFUSES TO POST #this is gonna annoy me OMG #✎𓂃uma thirsts。°˖⌕#✎𓂃stamped: (jujutsu kaisen)。°˖⌕

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marbled-polecat · 8 months

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Shhhh, Wooley is napping with some bebe tooka kits. <3

And a little accompanying ficlet can be found HERE!

Thanks to @elismor for the idea and for helping name the little bebes. :D

#clone trooper wooley #tookas #tooka cats #tooka kits #the clone wars #tcw #one small change au #one small change #my art

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faulterge1st · 3 months

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Doing it to Compensate (Not Love)

Now, I don't usually do this, but I wrote a really rough ficlet for any Call of Duty character x reader with a dash of rivals to lovers (younger reader is heavily implied)

It was written with Horangi in mind (blatant favoritism), but you could imagine this with any character in COD that fits the mindset

I don't want it to rot in my documents, so here u go

He resented you, he hated how stubborn you were about how you were right.

He hated how you would preach how much better you were than him at a certain skill, even if he was superior to you in rank. He hated how you would smirk everytime you saw him miss the bullseye during gun training. He hated how you would roll your eyes at him at every terrible unhealthy choice he made during meals, judging his barely sustainable appetite despite you having the oddest cravings he had seen. He despised you, absolutely detested your attitude.

But ever since that day, ever since you clung to him with heavy breaths in need of assistance, he just couldn't help but find you absolutely gorgeous. This was the first time you ever depended on him for anything, gripping his shoulder like he was the only thing that could save you.

He could remember the image of you covered in mud, your untrained fingers coated in your own blood while his rougher hands held your wound closed. It wasn't a pleasant sight, in fact, it was disturbing. But to him? He saw your defeated image as a portrait of a sorrowful martyr painted by a historic romantic, a tragedy cursed by the heavens.

He felt an unfound pity and worry seeing you like this. You were confident, believing in an ability you haven't fully mastered could help you defend in battle, but here you were, met with the reality of war. In that moment, he had just realized how important you were to him, how your confidence didn't make up in your lack of skill. Sure, he enjoyed making you groan in contempt everytime he commented on how much of an amateur you were if you missed a chance to kick him during sparring or how you were a terrible soldier if you missed a practice target just by a centimeter, but those times were accompanied by mischievous grins and amused smirks. They were all in good fun. You genuinely suffering? It wasn't any fun for him. He couldn't handle seeing you hunched over, leaning on his shoulder over a wound that could've taken your life. He just couldn't bear the thought of you being taken from him.

Since that day, he realized that for all the teasing and snarky comments made from good intentions, he'd make it up to you now just by making your life easier.

Ever since that day, he chose to make you your coffee, no matter how painfully sweet or disgustingly bitter it was. He chose to give you a pat on the shoulder every time you shot a straight bullseye, and chose to praise your efforts everytime you sent him flying back on his arse during training. You deserved it. He just couldn't go back to treating you like shit after that day, because it made him realize how he could lose you at any moment. He didn't want the last words he ever told to you to be a criticism of your skills or a sarcastic judgement of how your inexperience made him better than you. He had to make it special, because he loved you.

But he sure as hell will never tell you that. Instead, he'll tell you that you are a valued soldier, that losing you would be detrimental to the team. He would place his hands on your hand, your shoulder, or any place on your body that was subtle enough that you couldn't realize what he was truly feeling. It didn't carry his devotion nor his loyalty to you. It didn't send the message of how much he cared. But, it will always be close enough to an "I love you" that he could ever manage to tell you.

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esmeblaze · 2 months

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happy valensbirthday to a-yao!! here have a beautiful dragon boyfriend to kiss

accompanying ficlet by @lansplaining here!!

#i forgor if we were using a tag for this. Anyway #xiyao #lan xichen #jin guangyao #mdzs #my art #thank u lark for partnering with me !!#@ everyone else go read the fic!!

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shadowflorecita · 4 months

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Elain x Azriel

This dazzling art is by my wonderful, skilled, hardworking friend @moshimoichi, and I am so thankful for the time & care she dedicated in creating this beautiful commission for me.

Please do not repost, reblogs are welcome & appreciated! 🖤🌸

Below the cut is a little ficlet to accompany this sweet moment.

𖥧⚘𖤣𖡼

The sunlight was a steady stream, gilding the cottage in a summer morning radiance. Sparrows sang their cheerful melody as they flitted from branch to branch of the fruit trees, more birds joining in the chorus as they awakened.

Elain and Azriel had created a shared routine to rise early and witness the sunrise together. Sometimes they were tangled in each other, all tousled hair and sheets askew, watching the daybreak from the windows of their bedroom. Sometimes they were on the balcony cuddled in comfortable silence. And sometimes they shared Elain's favorite meal of the day in the garden. The most important meal, as she often reminded the Shadowsinger.

It wasn't a previous habit for Azriel to take time to eat slowly and savor a breakfast. Aside from official court gatherings or traditional family dinners, he usually had his meals on the go; quick and fuss-free. Boiled and peeled eggs, slices of toast, links of sausage, anything that could be eaten within a short amount of time or as he flew to his destinations.

Since spending more time with Elain, he found he rather enjoyed a moment to sit down with her for a meal. He indulged in her quiches and pastries, sweet and savory alike. The creations she orchestrated in the kitchen were some of the most delicious food he had ever tasted. He delighted in settling beside Elain, her eyes wandering his face, gauging his reactions to her cooking. They often mirrored each other's expressions, communicating in their secret language.

Azriel helped himself to the food on his plate, chewing slowly and luxuriating in the buttery flavors. He was fully armored today, prepared for a swift reconnaissance mission with Cassian. They would scout the coasts of the mortal lands, keeping a lookout for any odd activity, armed to the teeth and prepared for anything. Especially after the events earlier in the Spring with Briallyn and Koschei. If all went well, Azriel would reassign his spies back to the lands to remain as the Night Court's eyes and ears, ready to report if trouble transpired.

Beside him, with her legs draped lazily over his lap as she leaned against the bench with Azriel's free arm around her, Elain sipped her tea. She reveled in the nearness of him. It was not long ago that Elain had stormed into Rhysand's office on an early morning just like this one. The light of dawn was still peeking into the windows of the river house study when Elain threw open the doors, prowled to Rhysand's desk, her teeth bared with fury and demanded that the high lord understand that she had every right to gift her affections to whom she wanted. Without his unwelcome scheming.

Feyre and Rhysand had froze then. A stack of parchments fell from Feyre's hands all over the desk and Elain would forever remember the panicked look on Rhys's face once Feyre whirled and began snarling at him, viciously recalling Rhysand's own promise that Elain would be wholly protected in Velaris should she choose to reject the suppressive cauldron forged bond.

There were countless times Elain had been thankful to Feyre and filled with pride for her sister's tenacity for justice, but this moment immediately became one of her favorites. Feyre was a mother now, and the protective essence of an irate wild bear shone in her eyes and the scrunch of her nose. The image would remain in Elain's memory for the rest of her immortal life.

Elain triumphantly left the study and took the appropriate course of action with Lucien that very day to formally reject the bond. Lucien was... thankfully relieved. Elain had known that Lucien had a blossoming love of his own for the red haired human queen Vassa, but Elain would no longer politely wait for him to gather the courage to take action. She was an Archeron, and trembling fawn aside, like her sisters, she was also a fanged beast. The resolve to fight for what she desired for herself was enough for Elain to bravely face all consequence and cost.

It was a liberation, for that odd and misplaced link to go permanently dark. She understood the lifeless thread would always remain, but she felt like she wholly belonged to herself once again. Lucien took Elain by surprise by declaring an everlasting oath to never call in a blood duel against anyone Elain chose to spend her life with. She in turn, graced him with thanks and blessings for his own journey of the heart. Afterward, Elain immediately went to Azriel, explaining her actions, her heart, and her wish to never leave his side. If he would allow it.

The teacup clinking against the ceramic plate tugged Elain from her memories as Azriel finished the last of his tea. She had particularly enjoyed learning how he liked his tea- cinnamon bark and orange peel was his usual brew. He was also fond of peppermint.

"Regretfully, it is time I must be off."

The pair stood from the bench, their dishes whisked inside the cottage by Azriel's shadows. Elain was pleased that he had helped himself to two servings of quiche. She brushed off the crumbs from his polished plackhart into the graveled path. He was the epitome of a heroic and unvanquished knight, his dark armor and fastened weapons at a complimentary contrast with the bright, delicate blooms of their garden.

Azriel peered down at her, his inky curls brushing against his brows in the way Elain was so fond of. She reached up to run her fingers through it, overwhelmed with the need to always be touching him. Azriel beamed, pulling her into his arms and kissed her reverently on the soft skin of her earlobe. Then both cheeks, her chin, her lips, ending his affectionate conquest by softly nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. Elain shuddered at his touches, the feel of home as his mouth and scarred hands roved over her. She peered into his hazel eyes, the colors glittering the way sunshine dances upon the surface of the Sidra.

So long ago this moment felt like an impossible dream yet here it was, real and palpable and hers. Elain's heart fluttered with gratitude and awe as she stroked Azriel's strong jaw, the tiniest prickles scrubbing her palm.

Azriel read the thoughts reflected in her eyes, felt them in the special way he was always able to. His hands squeezed her waist, pressing his lips to hers. Hesitant to pull away, his wings lightly enveloped them, the sun now peeking over his broad shoulders.

"I miss you already. I will think of you every moment until I see you again" he murmured.

Elain chuckled, a roll of her eyes and subtle shake of the head "You won't be gone long, I will see you for dinner! I hope everything goes well."

Azriel grinned, his hidden dimples revealing themselves. "Whether I am away for an hour or a full day or a month, you are always on my mind Elain. You and that lovely smile of yours. I will see you this evening."

Elain's expression was soft, her doe-like eyelashes fluttering "Until then" she said.

"Until then" Azriel nodded, and after one last kiss to her hand, took a few steps down the garden path and launched himself into the sky, the breeze from his wings caressing her. As he flew into the clouds to meet his brother, Elain scattered a silent "Be safe, my darling" to the winds.

--✿--

Thank you for reading! A very special thank you to @tealeaves-and-rosepetals for helping with proofreading & edits, I really appreciate your endless kindness and encouragement!

Feliz año nuevo friends 💕

#elriel #elriel art #pro elriel #elain and azriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #sjm #acotar art

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