#and a bit more fluff

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem)

a.n; i blame this completely over the Olympics, again. sorry, but it has me on chokehold and i'm not resisting against it LOL 😜

Okay, hear me out...

Third date with Bakugou Katsuki.

The first one, of course, was very awkward and tense and sometimes even a bit worrisome. We are talking about dating Bakugou Katsuki, the one aggressive and violent Pro Hero that everybody has a hate-love feeling towards for; because the man looks and acts –and can– step on your head and crush it with malicious intent and yet, he's Nº 2 Pro Hero on the ranks and you just know that if he's around, you are completely safe. But he's big and tough and harsh in his talking and walking –how can anyone look that scary by just walking, you're still wondering, but it's real. He's fucking scary.

The second date was way more relaxed. He cooked for you. In his massive penthouse that probably costs more than your annual salary. Yep, morherfucker is rich rich. And you think he deserves it really. After all the troubles he goes through to keep the whole country safe –and even the world–, he completely deserves it. You just forgot how well he does his job to get to be that rich. You don't care about money though. You're dating him because you saw him helping a granny cross the street and that was the cutest thing you ever saw. So, back to the second date, he cooked for you, and damn... now you can say you'll keep dating him because of his food. Man cooks like the gods, like a fucking professional chef of the most expensive restaurant on earth. And also, you noticed how relaxed and in peace he looked in his own environment and he looked. So. Freaking. Attractive. Hot even. He looked just so... deliciously handsome.

So for the third date, and because he picked the second one, this one was of your choice. You decide to go ice skating. And you did not expect what happened at all. 

One would expect that Pro Hero Dynamight, civilian name Bakugou Katsuki, being who he is, would have exceptional balance and even a hidden talent for this. You’re wrong. Everyone is wrong. The second the blades of his skates touched the Ice Rink, he fell. Your eyes opened wide and you definitely were holding back your laugh as he struggled to get himself up by holding the handrail around the rink.

“Need some help?” You asked, getting close to him with no trouble at all. He looked up at you annoyed, struggling so hard to get up and keep his balance that his cheeks turned pink. How. Freaking. Cute. You’re glad that dating the Pro Hero came with its perks –like closing the whole rink just so only you and him are there, enjoying your date on a late wednesday night.

“Shut up. No, I can do it…” He declared, but another fall on his knees made you giggle while sliding backwards and away from him with ease, hands up in surrender. Katsuki looked at you once his stood for the nth time holding the handrail like dear life with a frown on his face, watching you how easy you made it look, “How the fuck are you doing that?”

You giggled again, amused by all of this situation. Sliding back towards him and extending your hands, you said, “Come one, let me help.”

Katsuki buffed but he placed his hands on yours, whole body trembling, barely holding himself up. The image of him sticking his ass up and body bending forward while his feet barely moved made you laugh out loud and he yelled another “shut up!”.

You changed your grip to his forearms and again slid backwards to make him move forward, his legs still trembling and his eyes never leaving the floor. He looked so cute, it made your heart flutter. The smile never left your face as you spoke again, “I used to skate a lot when I was younger. I even prepared myself to compete, but an injury put me out of the game.” 

He immediately looked back at you at your words, “What happened?” He looked curious, but also worried and kind of sad.

You shrugged, “I landed pretty badly over my right leg after a spinning jump once. After that, the shin splints became unbearable and I couldn't continue…” 

He looked down at your leg, watching you move attentively, “Does it hurt now?”

You shook your head and smiled at him, grateful for his worry, “Naah. It would only hurt badly if I tried to skate the way I used to… Guess I demanded a lot of myself back then.”

Katsuki didn’t comment further on, but he kept his attention on your leg. Didn’t that make him even cuter! 

It took you a while –long while– to finally be able to let go of one of his forearms once he was ready on his balance; his other hand still held yours strongly.

Time went by, both of you laughing and smiling while skating around the rink, hand in hand. You’re so happy that you could stand on the ice again. It brought you so many fond memories of when you were a kid. Skating was the only thing that could easily make you smile just because; the wind in your face made you feel free, content. and Katsuki could clearly see that.

For a moment, he got distracted by how beautiful you looked… and he lost his balance again. This time bringing you down with him. He was fast enough though to catch you and make you land over him. Your amused and loud laugh was contagious, so he couldn’t help but smile. He's having fun –even if he knew his body was going to hurt a bit the next day for how many falls he had.

“You’re so clumsy…” You laughed, joking kindly and funny.

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you show me what you can do?” His smirk made you suddenly stop laughing. It’s a clear challenge, yet curiosity shined in his eyes.

“Alright, hero… watch and learn,” you helped him stand up and directed him towards the handrail. 

Once he was away from possible harm, Katsuki watched you skate around the rink as if you were flying, gliding around with so much confidence and ease, as if you were made for it. Your hair floating behind you for how fast you were going, dancing beautifully with the air. He was hypnotized. Completely mesmerized by each little form you decided to enlighten him with. He particularly felt fascinated when you decided to spin fast and so many times he couldn’t count how many, then you stopped like it had been nothing and kept gliding around. 

You looked so nice and professional, Katsuki felt a little pang of pity for the world. It would never be able to share how beautifully perfect you looked at the moment.

A few more glides around, until you stopped in a very experienced way right in front of him, a huge smile on your face and a shine on your eyes that were proof of how immensely excited and happy you felt.

Did katsuki say already how fucking beautiful you were?

Just to prove his point, he instantly grabbed your face and kissed you for the very first time.

And fuck, he planned on keep kissing you as much as you would let him.

He let you go for a moment just to say, “That was beautiful… You’re gorgeous.”

You smiled one more time before sliding your arms around his neck to kiss him again. He moved a bit to surround your waist with his arms…

And that’s when he forgot about the handrail and sent you both again towards the floor.

[selarina]

True Blue

→ Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader (Series Masterlist)

Chapter 2: The Green Light

Content Warnings: college bf!gojo, long-distance, fluff, smut, established relationship, summer, phone sex, nudes, light angst, emotional tension, insecurities, gojo is rich and clingy! Minors DNI

Word Count: 2.6k words

Author's Note: had "Good Looking" by Suki Waterhouse on repeat as i wrote this. can you tell?

You had thought coming home for the holidays would mean endless days spent with Gojo, caught up in each other with nothing else to do in this sleepy town. Here, time moved differently, like honey trickling from a spoon.

Time spent in college had been different— there were classes, assignments, and the whole college thing — but now, time with him would be luxurious, unhurried, just the two of you, without the world pulling you apart.

But it had been two weeks since you last saw him.

To start with, your mother, in that peculiar way mothers are, still treated you as if high school had just ended yesterday. And then there was the summer ritual – three weeks spent with your grandmother, a tradition that pulled you three states away, leaving Gojo behind in all his boredom. The first week of summer had been his, or at least partially, for even then half of it was lost to the tournament that kept him longer on campus. Now, only a single constrained week and a month remained, 

“So, you’ll be back by then?” he asks, a kind of hope edging in his voice. You almost feel bad.

“I don’t know—” you speak up. “I always spend three weeks. I don’t want to leave earlier.”

“It’s only a week early and it’s my birthday, baby,” he whined, his plea childish, like a boy who doesn’t understand why he can’t have everything he wants.

“I know, but we can always celebrate later,” you offered, knowing full well it wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“Okay,” he says, and you hear it, his voice is thin and worn. It’s not the first time he’s asked you to come back earlier, nor would it be the last. “How’s it going in Midsommar-land anyway? You need to start sending me more pictures or I’ll forget how you look.”

You scoffed, but there was a smile in it. It was the least you could do. “I promise, I will.”

You chat on about things, meandering through familiar territories. And when you finally ran out of things to say, Satoru started asking you about colors, shapes, chickens, and just about anything he could think of to keep the conversation going. 

Four hours had passed, and the weariness in his voice was clear.

“Satoru.”

He hummed in response, his voice soft, almost dreamy.

“Go to bed,” you say gently.

“But I don’t want to,” he mumbled, the resistance fading even as he spoke.

“Yeah,” you said, understanding. “I know. I’ll call you tomorrow anyway.”

“Mmkay,” you hear him yawn through the crackles of the phone. “Don’t forget — pictures.”

You hummed in agreement, ending the call.

You fell back onto the bed, feeling the dull ache in your elbow from holding your head up for so long as you spoke. 

The ceiling, plain and blue, stared back at you as you tried to think of what you would do today. And then it struck you — pictures first.

Your fingers moved quickly, perusing through the squares in your phone’s gallery, searching. But the images were all wrong— food, your grandmother, endless trees, and greens, but not a single one centering you.

You frowned, scrolling back to the last picture of you —a simple mirror selfie. The first week of summer, it dated. You were standing clad in Gojo’s tournament jacket and shorts. The memory brought a smile to your face.

You got up then, moving with purpose — like a mad scientist, you started to dig through your suitcase until you found it. You took your top off, as you pulled the jacket on. The heat was far too horrendous for both items layered on top of one another.

You fell back onto the bed again, the pillow soft beneath your head. You held the camera up — your hair spreading around your white pillow covers, with your face in focus.

You realized you looked tired, dark circles blooming like dark mold under your eyes, but your grandparents would return soon and you wanted to get this over with now and for all. 

Click.

You drew your hands back a bit more, making sure the jacket engulfing you was visible.

Click.

Your eyes caught a glint— a silver shine at your neck. Of course. You reached for it, a delicate gold necklace with a blue jewel at its center, Gojo’s 6-month anniversary gift to you. You remembered the guilt you felt then, for you had given him a silly joke of a book in return.

It now lay over your — his hoodie — sitting against the hoodie, a small, almost hidden detail.

Click.

The phone was warm in your hand, the screen glowing softly in the dim light. One more, you decided. The last one.

You listened, straining for any sounds in the silence—footsteps, voices—but there was nothing, just the quiet of the empty house.

You pulled off the jacket, your movements quick but deliberate, and you lifted the phone above you, adjusting the camera before snapping a shot of you with your bare chest. Bare, but not entirely so — the gold necklace still graced your neck. 

The moment passed as quickly as it came, as you pulled the jacket back on in haste.

You selected the last two photos, sending them in quick succession. The order mattered, after all. 

—

The next morning, you had risen a bit too late in the afternoon. The light of the afternoon sun already slicing harshly through the curtain. The evening yesterday was eventful with the bonfires you helped build, and food you helped grill. It had been lovely. Exhausting. Glorious.

You immediately reach for your phone. Almost giddy with anticipation. 

But when you opened the screen, there was only one message from Satoru.

Satoru <3: Pretty 

The text specifically replied to the first picture you had sent, conveniently leaving the second unacknowledged. Your brows knitted together. 

You tapped his contact and pressed the phone to your ear, the silence of the room amplifying each drawn-out ring.

Once. Twice. Then, the line crackled, and his voice came through, light and smooth.

“Afternoon,” he drawled. “Did you just wake up? It’s late.”

“Pretty?” you ask, agitated. 

“I am? Thank you,” he says, you can almost hear the grin form on his mouth. 

“Satoru,” you reply, it was your turn to whine now.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, feigning innocence. Oh, he was loving this, wasn’t he?

“Just pretty?” you asked, your patience stretched thin but still intact. You felt small, however, in an odd way you couldn’t explain.

“You’ll get more than that,” he said, “if you say you’ll come to my birthday.”

A groan escaped you. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered. “No more pictures for you. Ever again.”

And you only smile when you hear him fumble — words overlapping one another as though he’s finding one that’s appropriate enough to satiate you — to convince you to do both. 

“I just want you here,” he said finally, the simplicity of the statement catching you off guard. “I really do.”

“You’ll see me two days later,” you countered. “You don’t even care about your birthday.”

“I don’t,” he admitted easily. “But everyone else does. You know my mother will make a whole thing out of it — the birthday will be loud. And annoying. I need you with me. Please—”

“You only want me there because it’ll be annoying,” you replied, your frown deepening, though a certain softness crept into your tone later. “It’s only two days. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Yeah, how? you’ll send me more pictures?” he asks, his voice lithe.

“I don’t know,” you teased, the earlier irritation melting away, as it does. “You didn’t seem to like the last one.”

Silence. 

“I liked it,” he finally said, his voice lower now, almost reverent. “I did.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your voice lower, mirroring his. “What did you like about it?”

“I liked you,” he said. “You’re pretty.”

“I am?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he affirms. “Very.”

“Why thank you,” you said, the gratitude in your voice genuine, yet playful.

“I’m looking at it right now,” he continued, his voice taking on a breathy quality as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. “Pretty,” he murmured, devout.

“What’s pretty about it?” you prompted, curious and engaged now.

“You —” he says. “Want you here with me, so bad.”

“You want me there with you?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you?” you ask.

“I’m— I’m in my bed.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah,” he says. 

“Where are you?” he asks then.

“Well, I just woke up,” you replied.

“So, you’re in your bed too,” he surmised.

“Yeah,” you replied, pulling the cover up to your chest. “Hey,” you decided to add. “And guess what?”

“What?” he asks, chewing on his lips. “I’m wearing your hoodie too,” you said, and though he could not see you, you could almost sense his reaction.

"Fuck," he exhaled, the word barely more than a breath. "And, what else?"

“Um—” you start to feel a bit awkward. “Shorts. Black shorts.” Do specifics matter, you start to wonder?

“Bra?”

You glanced down, though you already knew the answer. "No," you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it before you could hide behind something safer. You cleared your throat, speaking up, clearer this time. "No."

“Fuck,” he says again. The mental image of you wearing his sweatshirt without any bra was driving him a bit hazy. 

You rushed to break the tension, "Your turn."

"Huh," he responded as if he had lost track of the conversation, of where this had started.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Well, just sweatpants and a t-shirt,” his voice casual. 

“Take them off.”

He chuckled, the sound soft, surprised. "As my lady pleases."

You heard rustling sounds, and you let your imagination wander to an image of him in his room. You’ve never seen his room, save for some hints in the many pictures he loves to send you, but you haven’t been to his place. Yet. 

Based on what his dorm looks like, he’s such a boy. It doesn’t have a theme, just a mixture of things he’s collected erratically placed in places he could if you get the gist. 

You wonder what color his room is. 

You realize you’ve wandered too far, the tension that first filled the space between you two as he speaks is gone, as you’ve indulged your mind.

"They’re off," he stated, his voice bringing you back, grounding you in the present moment. "Now take yours—wait! Take only your shorts off. I like you in my hoodie."

You smiled at that, and just as you’re about to take it off, your hand lingering at the waistband, ready to comply when—

“Hey, sweetheart,” your grandmother’s voice cut through with the sound of your door hinging open, bringing you to notice that there is a world beyond the two of you.

"Grandma, what—" you stammered, your heart racing as you scrambled, about to cover yourself, though you realized a second later that you didn’t need to. You were still fully clothed, still just talking on the phone. You sighed. "What happened?"

“Oh, nothing, dear but if you’re not too busy… could you help Yuuji with the birds? He hurt his wrist this winter, poor thing, and I think he could use your hand.”

“Of course,” you sighed with a smile, a small and reluctant thing, forcing its way to your lips. “Just let me get dressed, and I’ll be down.”

“Tell that friend of yours you’re always talking to that I said hi,” she added, a warm smile in her voice.

You nodded, almost absently, the phone still pressed to your ear as she left the room, the door closing with a soft click.

“Grandma says hi,” you relayed.

"Tell her your friend says hi back," he responded, his voice carrying an edge now, a note of irritation that was impossible to ignore.

There were too many things left unsaid, too many disappointments lining up on the horizon—birthdays you wouldn’t be there for, a family you hadn’t yet told him about.

You felt the fairness of it, just a bit. There are many things at play right now — you hadn’t told your family about him, you wouldn’t be coming in time for his birthday — too many things disappointing a boy who’s used to having it all. "I’m sorry," you said, the words sincere. "I’ll call you in the evening. Same as yesterday.”

He made a sound that was neither agreement nor refusal, just a noncommittal hum. "Have a nice day," he muttered, and the line went dead, leaving you alone in the silence.

—

It was warm, and windy as you drove back home to see Satoru Gojo. You drove alone, aside from your backseat companions – jars and jars of condiments from Grandma.

His house was even more elaborate than you had first expected – a whopping red and white brick mansion. It was a mansion you thought one would only see in their extravagant imaginations but there it stood, just beyond the long stretch of a well-furnished garden. 

As you pulled up – a man appeared. He was middle-aged, and greying at the temples. His manner was brisk, so formal, as he offered to park your car, and you simply let him. You assumed he was a chauffeur for the estate. 

Standing before the entrance, you feel as though the mansion seemed bigger than when you first laid your eyes on it from afar. Looming. Its sheer size made you a bit dizzy and small as you stared up at it. 

You walked up, your hand reaching to press the small buzzer on the side of the ornate door.

“Oh!” The voice belonged to a woman with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. “You must be here for the young master’s party?”

Young master. Satoru. You nodded, stepping inside.

And then you walked and you walked, and you started to wonder if they should invest in a vehicle for an inside the house. 

Walking through a high hallway, you finally made your way into what seemed to be a living room or just a big room where there were a bunch of people pacing and talking about with drinks and sticks with food in their hands. 

You assumed you finally arrived at the party, as the bright-eyed woman nodded at you as she left you to find your own steps now.

A breeze flew through the room just as you walked in, blowing the curtains in at one end and out like flags as you walked into where the concentration of the room lay.

The only seemingly still object in the room, amidst the whipping of the curtains and the moving guests, was the enormous white couch in the middle. And that’s where you saw him, Satoru, lounging, with a glass perched on the bridge of his nose as he spoke to a boy. The boy you barely glanced at — he was of no consequence just yet. 

You approached, your eyes noticing the lines of his black shirt as it ruffled with the breeze. With each step closer, your courage grew, pushing to make your presence known to him, and the guests that surrounded him. 

A sudden boom echoed through the room, and you turned just in time to see the same bright-eyed woman from earlier closing the long windows with a decisive motion. When you looked back, you noticed Satoru’s gaze had already fixed itself on you.

His brows, you could see, even through the glasses, emerged upward, in surprise.

Without thinking, you reached for his glasses, slipping them off as you spoke. “Hi,” you said. A giggle, a nervous giggle following you.

“You came,” he murmured, almost in a daze. 

“Yeah,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday. What do you make of me?”

[astraystayyh]

chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

[uzurakis]

after you reveal the meanings behind his names, michael kaiser’s cocky attitude seems to never not get in the way.

“do you know the meaning of your name?” you ask, glancing up at him. both of you are lounging on the couch, enjoying a rare moment of quiet as kaiser takes a book in his right hand and stroking your hair with his left from behind.

kaiser looks at you, his expression indifferent. “as if i give a damn about it,” he replies, shrugging, back to his pages. “it was given to me by that one hell of a father, and at times, i don’t even like it.”

“hmm,” you smile, knowing you can get a reaction out of him. “well then, 'kaiser' means emperor or a ruler higher than a king.”

a spark of interest lights up his eyes. he leans back, a smirk forming on his lips. “i know i’m the best striker out there, mein liebling. no need to tell me,” he brags, mood visibly improving. “emperor, king, whatever. i own the field.”

enjoying his reaction, you chuckle at his boast. “of course, you do, baby.”

“but do you know what 'michael' means?”

he raises an eyebrow, genuinely curious this time. “no, what does it mean?”

“it means 'gift from god,'” looking at him fondly as your hand touches his cheeks, rubbing them softly. “you're my gift from god.”

his eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, you see a glint of genuine emotion. then, true to his nature, he grins and leans in. “well, that makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? that’s why i am pretty amazing,” he boasts again with a playful wink. “in fact, you should probably start addressing me as 'your highness.'”

you roll your eyes at his flamboyant response but can’t help smiling. “you get cocky too easily, michael.”

“i thought you love me as i am, mein liebling,” he says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer. “i mean, who wouldn’t love having the greatest striker in the world as their boyfriend? you’re one lucky person.”

“c’mon, mein liebling, say it, 'i am more than grateful to have the world’s greatest striker as my boyfriend,'”

“yeah, yeah,” you say, trying to sound annoyed but failing as a smile breaks through. “you’re full of it, know that?”

“full of greatness, you mean,” he corrects, puffing out his chest. “c’mon, admit it. you’re blessed to have me, for i’m a gift from god itself.”

you tease, leaning into him. “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, 'boyfriend,'”

“you forgot the ‘world’s greatest striker’ part,”

“i sorta regret having this conversation with you.”

@uzurakis

[ellestray]

elle's favorite ateez fics. f = fluff ; s = smut ; sg = suggestive ; a = angst. ✧ = absolute favorites, must read. (only adding notes for these few fics to ensure readability for the overall list!) word count in brackets. last updated: may 2nd, 2024

authors; if you wish to be untagged, please let me know!

currently no individual fic for hongjoong, yeosang & jongho. please refer to the OT8 section, or come back for future updates!

성화 SEONGHWA

✧ [11,1k] plastic flowers — @bobateastay ( f ; s ; a ) ↪ note: this fic revolves around abortion, so please keep this in mind before reading. i read this on a flight— and i don't know if it was the altitude, but it broke me. the author beautifully wrote this, in a way where unconditional love, hope and pain are intertwined. one of the most pleasantly surprising and touching reads i've had on this platform by far.

✧ [2,3k] essence — @hwaightme ( f ) ↪ note: this one is for the poetic, hopelessly romantic fics lovers. everything i've read from this author was beautiful so far! the poetry in this fic was so pretty that i felt the need to share it to my friends... although i usually never share fics out of tumblr. i'm excited to read through more of your writings, bai!

[1,2k] the first snow and being in love — @i-luvsang ( f )

[884] 02:36 — @hwapetals ( f )

[642] adoration — @kisshwa ( f ; sg )

[8,6k] both — @hwaightme ( s ; f )

[200] 10:24pm — @hotteoki ( f )

[986] anguish — @kisshwa ( a )

[n/a] bf texts — @hotteoki ( f )

[79] 9:22pm — @cozykpopblurbs ( f )

[1,6k] i'll be with you — @cheollipop ( f )

[519] lazy make out sessions — @crazyforhwa ( s )

[1,2k] realistic sex — @byuntrash101 ( s ; f )

윤호 YUNHO

✧ [13k + 18,2k] unprofessional attraction ; pt.1 , pt.2 , [tbc] — @jk97 ( f ; s ; a ) ↪ note: i was so engulfed into this fic that i skipped a lecture to continue reading. fics that are heavier nsfw-wise usually aren't my thing, but here, every single line pulled me in. hell, i felt even more insane about yunho after reading this. saying i'm excited about the next chapters would be an understatement.

✧ [14k] closer, face down — @ncteez ( s ; f ) ↪ note: again, although i usually prefer fluff over smut, i absolutely loved this fic... the build up made it so enticing! i don't know if a re-edit still is in the works, but i'd absolutely re-read it regardless!

✧ [84,5k] project: make you love me (series) — @hwaslayer ( f ; a ; s ) ↪ note: pulled an all nighter to read the entire series in one go... it was that fun to read! the relationship was built up at a nice, natural pace, while still keeping the reader on their toes. (this made me very excited about the seonghwa series in progress..!)

[1,1k] bedfellows — @sungbeam ( f )

[1,3k] he knows he loves you — @honeyhotteoks ( f )

[2,5k] convenience store chances — @ohmyamor ( f )

[n/a] boyfriend texts — @koizekomi ( f )

[300] nothing sweeter — @i-luvsang ( f )

[1,1k] nsfw alphabet — @yunhobug ( s )

[425] 3:52am — @edenesth ( f ; sg? )

산 SAN

✧ [3,7k] leave the window open — @sungbeam ( f ) ↪ note: so sweet. so comforting. the kind of heartwarming fic that feels like hot cocoa on a cold winter day. (also made me feel insane about san... but let's not talk about that.)

[1k] always available — @everyonewooeverywhere ( f )

✧ [1,6k] capturing us — @03jyh23 ( f ) ↪ note: another sweet, poetic, hopelessly romantic fic— my favorite kind! finding fics like these always feels like discovering a little treasure. looking forward to all the wips!

[n/a] boyfriend texts — @koizekomi ( f )

[2,6k] take a break - @cheollipop ( f ; s )

[249] 21:23 — @petitemingi ( f )

[350] boyfriend headcanons — @i-luvsang ( f )

[600] one more minute — @seonghwaddict ( f )

[1,3k] no strings, no expectations — @seonghwaddict ( a ; sg ; f? )

[468] stretch marks — @beenbaanbuun ( f )

[475] valentine's series : movies — @whimsicalwritingsandmore ( f )

[n/a] instagram stories with bf san — @lwtqts ( f )

[371] hold me — @cheeseceli ( f )

민기 MINGI

[800] untitled — @cheollipop ( a ; f )

[2,8k] mind over matter — @mingisaddctn ( s )

[256] 23:22 — @petitemingi ( f )

[1k] 23:46 — @seonghwaddict ( f )

[447] princess treatment — @cheeseceli ( f )

우영 WOOYOUNG

✧ [1,2k] broke you heart, i'll put it back together — @dairyminki ( a ; f ) ↪ note: loved this so much that i had to read it twice. something about wooyoung hopelessly in love wanting to fix this... name twin, if you're reading this, hi- i'd be seated for a part 2 if you ever have the time to write it!

[2,2k] vacation — @bobateastay ( f ; s )

OT8

[700] when you don't say i love you back — @jjunberry ( f )

[2,4k] romance tropes — @beenbaanbuun ( f )

[n/a] situationships (texts) ; pt.1 , pt.2 — @yunhoszn ( f )

[2,9k + 3k] as boyfriends ; hyung line , maknae line — @honeyhotteoks ( f : s )

[n/a] sex ban (texts) — @kisshwa ( sg ; f )

[n/a] sending you a pic of themselves (texts) — @bombuni ( f )

[1,3k] outfit turn-ons — @starillusion13 ( sg )

[1,2k] make-up sex — @nateezfics ( f ; a ; s )

[944] showering — @seonghwaddict ( f ; sg )

[1,6k] as boyfriends — @atiny-moon ( f ; sg )

[2,5k] that one specific habit they do that highlights their love language — @sanhwaism ( f )

[1,1k] top 3 kinks — @seonghwaddict ( s )

[2,8k] making out — @sxcret-garden ( sg ; f )

[n/a] asking them to draw a flower (texts) — @eightmakesonebraincell ( f )

if any link is broken, or if i made any mistake when tagging fics— please kindly let me know!

[fox-guardian]

I can't get over that last scene from this episode. that long pause where sam was quietly grabbing a drink and you could barely hear celia talking to jack as she put him to bed in the other room. nothing was happening in that moment that needed to be recorded. no terrible events no big revelations. just sam and celia quietly going about their lives, sharing a domestic moment.

as something watched and listened. and we don't know why it's listening.

[fogdraws]

Meanwhile at 221b Baker Street,,,

[kenziezie]

hello!! i haven't posted in a few days because i'm working on a bit of a project :) but i hope this is able to sate you

i tried to make the cat look as fluffy as possible hehehe

[bambisnc]

u got me so in love [ft. p.hn]

@ yn : idk sounds like a you problem tbh @ hanni : oh yeah? watch me make it into an us problem rn babe <3

pairing : bsf!hanni x f!reader genre : angst w a dash of crack cw/tw : swearing + uneditted + hints of reader being possessive/jealous + surprise moka appearance! <3 wc : 0.5k

you saw hanni before she saw you. 

however, to be fair, the fact that in every hallway, every room, every crowd in general, your eyes would always, always be constantly in search of her did give you a fair advantage. 

she was pulling someone along by their arm, in that trademark cheerful manner of hers. 

but she was too busy in conversation to notice you staring. 

too busy in conversation to notice how you forcibly immersed yourself into conversation with minji just to appear unbothered.

you almost succeed. 

keyword : almost.

she finally approaches you. the traitor. misusing that beautiful grin of hers to force a matching one on your own face.

“y/n!! you remember we have to be at school this saturday right? for the physics project?” 

you can’t help but be distracted by how she’s still holding some other girl’s hand. you don't think you've seen her before, she's probably new - and your best friend, being the absolute sweet soul that she is probably offered to show her around.

but it's crazy if you think about it – hanni has no shortage of friends and physical touch is how she shows affection. plus it’s not like the two of you are together or anything; she's only your best friend.  

so why does it bother you this much?

you carefully hide the annoyance starting to creep up on your features and shrug noncommittally (a VERY inappropriate response to the question she'd asked). 

hanni looks like she’s finally noticed something. 

“oh! moka, these are my friends!” she gestures towards you, “and side note : this one's for sure the cutest!” “is that how you usually introduce people?” you deadpan; the compliment not doing much to appease the vague ickiness you feel.

“no!!” hanni huffs sheepishly, “minji, y/n, this is the new transfer student sakai moka; she’s in my class!”

before either you or minji is able to reply, the school bell rings and a bustling crowd of students surges through. the 2 of you get separated from hanni and .. moka.

you’re left just a little dazed but aren’t able to dwell much on it when some other classmates/acquaintances/friends engage you in random mindless chatter which you'd be damned if you were even half interested in.

- the next you see the two of them is by the stairwell; both of them standing against the wall, animatedly talking about something or the other. 

could it be that she’s waiting for you?.. 

as soon as the crowd parts enough way to walk through, you, ironically, lose sight of her completely. 

.. so she wasn’t waiting.

the entire occurrence leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth. 

and the idea of processing whatever you’re feeling seems a little too much for you to be able to handle right now. 

you can't help but suddenly remember when just an year earlier, you and hanni had been sitting together on these same stairs. she'd confessed that she wasn't looking forward to going to the next grade because that would mean both of you would be different classes.

she'd made you promise you wouldn't become best friends with someone new you met. she'd made you promise to only be hers.

too bad you just laughed it off back then.

-

when you check your phone later, a flurry of notifications greet you, all from a certain someone who’s been on your mind quite literally all day.

● hanniiee (cutest bestest most perfect bff) :3 <3

Y/NNN  Y/NNNNIEEE WHERE’VE U BEEN ALL DAYYY IMYYY

oh and omg moka told me the funniest story about her old school you’ll love her smmm fr :((

AWW HOLD ON NO WAY  minji js texted 🤭🤭🤭 is my darling a little jealous perhaps~~ ??  u know ur always my no.1 y/nnie <33

CALL MEEE ALR LOSER

ah shit wait i need to go over to moka’s rn to help w school work

call me when u can tho i’ll be free to pick up anytime !!!

…

but when you call hanni a little later, you’re met with an automated response.

the number you have dialed is currently busy. please try again.

notes : bambisnc comeback no wayyy anyw what if i changed my user back to bambinsc guys ive totally not being having sm thoughts about doinf that + [m.list] song rec : te quiero - kissoflife! <3

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

pt.2 <3

[doublxpresso]

「Your absence」

page 13 - 14

beginning << page 11 - 12 < . > page 15 - 16 [END]

[shalomniscient]

ALL I SEE IS RED LIGHTS || rahu x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

Control. This was the singular order that woman gave her before getting herself locked away by Paradeisos. Always, always remain in control. But there was a limit to just how much control Rahu could exert over herself before she needed an outlet. And as it just so happens, her most willing (and favourite!) one happens to be you. Or, Rahu comes back to the MBCC pent up and frustrated from her time in Paradeisos. To relax, she fucks you silly in the Archives.

cw. [NSFT][MDNI] rahu has a dick in this one (she also tops for once), rough sex, handjobs, degradation (whore, slut), breeding, choking, biting, belly bulge, semi-public sex, dacryphilia, discussion of anal, creampie

notes. god forgive me

wc. 3k

Being the Chief of the MBCC is a difficult, difficult job. There’s dealing with shitty higher ups, placating manic Sinners, stopping city-destroying threats, and worst of all, paperwork. Mountains and mountains of dreaded paperwork. There’s so much of the damn stuff it makes your brain numb–and not in the fun way. More often than not, you end up just waiting for something exciting to happen. 

Speaking of exciting, you glance at the clock on the wall as you sort the files in the Archives. It’s thirty minutes to five, and you’d be off the clock soon. Rahu should be arriving back from Paradeisos any minute now–

“Chief?”

Your lips twitch upwards in a wry smile at the sound of that familiar voice. Speak of the devil, indeed. “I’m in the Archives,” you call back to Rahu. You hear footsteps echo in your office, stopping just short of the heavy Archives door. 

“Are you alone in here?”

There’s an undercurrent of tension in her voice, but you brush it off in favour of focusing on the wall of files before you. You slot another file back into its place on the shelf and nod. “Yeah, it’s just me.” 

You’re entirely too preoccupied with your filing to notice Rahu striding towards you until a firm hand is gripping your waist, forcefully spinning you around to face her. You squeak in surprise as Rahu presses herself bodily against you, until you’re sandwiched between the shelf and Rahu’s firm, warm body. Your brows knit in confusion as you stare up at her, noting the stormy look in her silver eyes. 

“Is something wro—“ you ask, only to be cut off when Rahu discards her mask with a flick of her fingers and crashes her lips against yours in a bruising, claiming kiss. Rahu swallows any sound you make with her lips, her tongue forcing its way into your mouth greedily. She kisses you so forcefully it’s like she’s trying to draw your very life from your lips. Her teeth scrape your bottom lip before she pulls away, leaving you flushed and breathless. 

She doesn’t stop, though. She presses more burning kisses along your jaw and over what little exposed skin there is of your neck, growling as her teeth ghost over the thin fabric of your undershirt. Your arms loop around her broad shoulders as you pant and sigh in pleasure, feeling almost unbearably warm. But you retain enough brain function to at least try and ask her what she’s doing. 

“Need you,” is all she says, her voice low as she moves up to kiss you again. The request doesn’t surprise you–in fact, you had an arrangement with Rahu. Every few months, when Paradeisos loosens their leash, she’ll visit you and the Bureau. During these visits, she’ll update you on whatever new intelligence she’s managed to glean from the secretive Paradeisians, which is followed by the filthiest, raunchiest fucking as a way for both of you to de-stress. Of course, normally, you’d at least get to your chill-out room for some privacy, but not today, apparently. As if noticing the way your thoughts are straying, she takes your lower lip between her teeth and bites, making you whimper and squirm, the stinging pain surprisingly pleasurable. 

“H-here?” you manage to gasp out between the kisses Rahu steals from you. This side of Rahu is entirely new to you–and fuck if it isn’t hot. “Now?” 

Rahu leans bodily against you, her free arm bracing her on the shelf, caging you in. This close to her, you feel something poke at your inner thigh through your slacks, and you suck in a breath. You know Rahu and her pretty cock well enough to tell that she’s already at full mast and probably leaking into her boxers. The thought makes you shiver. 

“What if someone walks in?” you ask, resisting the urge to moan as Rahu rolls her hips against yours. 

“Locked the door already,” she says simply, the hand on your waist already moving forward to toy with the buttons of your shirt. The fact that she hasn’t ripped it off you yet means she’s giving you a choice—she would take you right here and right now, but only if you want. 

And despite yourself, despite the risks, you’ve never wanted something more in your entire life. 

“Okay,” you breathe out, sliding your hands on Rahu’s shoulders down lower and lower until you reach the buckle of her pants. Her pupils dilate and she makes a low, feral sound, watching as your hands unbuckle her pants, then slip past the waistband of her boxers to finally pull her aching cock free. 

It slaps against her toned stomach, leaking pre-cum like a fucking faucet and your mouth waters. Slowly, you swipe your thumb over the swollen tip, spreading her sticky pre-cum around. It coats your hand, slick and warm, and Rahu groans as you slide your hand down her shaft. You fall into a languid rhythm, obediently pumping her cock, intermittently moving up to the tip to collect more beads of pre-cum. Rahu pants lightly against your ear with each slick pump of your hand up and down her cock. When you squeeze lightly, Rahu’s breath hitches and she twitches in your grasp—she’s already close. 

You move to sink to your knees, to let her finish in your throat, but Rahu grabs you by the shoulders before you can get all the way down. Before you can even ask her anything, she spins you around and forces your front against the shelf, your cheek pressed against the files you just arranged. The sudden display of force makes your traitorous cunt clench, and you feel a surge of wetness drip into your panties. 

Rahu stands flush against you as her hand shoots down to unbuckle your slacks, while the other deftly undoes the buttons of your shirt. The presence of your undershirt makes her snarl against your nape and you whine when she rips it off, the fabric now hanging in tatters from where it’s tucked into your slacks. But even those are soon gone, leaving you in nothing but your underwear, and your shirt that hangs limply off your arms. The position is unbelievably compromising, but it makes your core throb. 

“Going to take your pretty pussy,” Rahu hums against your nape, ever so briefly biting down on the sensitive skin and leaving the imprint of her teeth there. She slots her cock between your thighs, moving her hips lazily, smearing pre-cum all over the soft flesh. When you look down, you can see her tip peek out with each thrust, and you whine, pushing your ass backwards against her, the need in your lower belly starting to make you lose it. 

Rahu makes a noise almost like a sneer, and trails a hand along your clothed cunt. She brushes your clit through the soaked fabric and scoffs as you moan, light and breathy. “So wet already,” she says, slipping her hand past the waistband of your panties and dragging a sinfully long finger along your cunt, from your hole to your clit. “Dripping like a whore and I haven’t even done anything yet.” 

The filth that leaves her lips makes a strangled moan leave yours. “Rahu, please, please, I need—“

Your pleas are cut off when a firm hand connects with your ass, the slap echoing in the room. You practically squeal, both in surprise and pleasure, your body jolting forward from the sheer force of it. Rahu gropes your ass shamelessly, taking handfuls of flesh into her large hand and squeezing before relentlessly raining more and more slaps on your ass until it’s the same flushed shade of red as your face. 

“You like that, don’t you? I can feel you get wetter on my fingers,” Rahu growls, briefly curling her fingers, the pads catching on your aching, needy clit. But then her fingers move backwards, and her thumb brushes against your ass. “You’re dripping so fucking much, Chief… at this rate, you’d be wet enough for me to take this hole too.” 

Another broken moan leaves you as the thought of Rahu fucking your ass makes your knees quiver. Rahu snickers behind you, but doesn’t go through with it. As much as she’d love to, taking your ass would really take more prep and she needed you now. Instead, she angles her hips, and slots a leg between yours, nudging you to spread your own a little wider. Rahu tugs your panties aside, strings of your own slick clinging to the ruined fabric, and then she hilts deep inside of you in one smooth motion. 

If it weren’t for Rahu’s hand that shot up to cover your mouth just in time, the scream you let out would’ve certainly alerted the entire MBCC. Stars danced behind your eyes at the sudden, immense fullness, your cunt fluttering. She’s so fucking deep in you, her tip ever so slightly brushing your g-spot as it rests in you. Rahu swears against your shoulder, her other hand bracing herself on the shelf. 

“Fuck, you’re so damn tight,” she says, giving an experimental roll of her hips that has you whining into her palm. She barely gives you any time to adjust to her size, immediately starting to pound away inside you. She fucks you with a brutal, animalistic pace, bullying your cervix and going balls deep with each thrust. The squelching sounds ring throughout the room, accompanied by the slapping of skin on skin. At the rate she was going, it was no surprise that your peak was almost upon you already. “F-fuck, you’re squeezing me so tightly, Chief…” 

Rahu still hadn’t moved her palm from your mouth, so all you could do was whimper pitifully as you felt your climax build in your belly. But she seemed to get the hint, the hand bracing herself on the shelf moving down to toy with your swollen clit. 

“Gonna cum already? Gonna make a mess on my cock?” Rahu breathes against your ear. You nod desperately, your pussy clenching with each powerful thrust. You’re so, so, so close—

“Chief? Are you in here?”

Nightingale’s voice makes you both freeze. You don’t know if you want to sob at the loss of your orgasm or the fact that Nightingale was about to catch Rahu balls deep in you in the Archive. Rahu’s hand drops from your mouth, settling on your throat instead. 

“Chief?” Nightingale calls again, knocking on the door. “Is everything alright?” 

“You should answer her,” Rahu says, but makes no move to pull out. Pulling yourself together, you do your best to sound like you weren’t just having your brains fucked out. 

“Yes, I’m in the Archives, adjutant. I’m alright,” you call back to her. Your voice is, thankfully, somewhat even, though you do sound a little breathless. 

“Are you sure?” Nightingale’s tone is worried. “You’ve been in there for a while…”

You smile. Nightingale may seem like a hard-ass sometimes, but that was only because she cared. “I’m sure, adjutant. I’m just—mmhm!”

Whatever you were about to say was cut off by Rahu suddenly thrusting up into you. Her cock presses right on your g-spot, but you somehow manage to smother your moan with a cough and glare over your shoulder at the sinner, who just smirks in response. She thrusts again, another sinful roll of her hips, and you press a hand against your mouth to stifle more of your moans. 

“Chief?” 

You shoot a glance at Rahu, but she doesn’t stop. No, she wants you to keep talking to Nightingale—all while she fucks you. The thought shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but your cunt gushes around Rahu���s cock, and she grins victoriously. 

“Sorry, I’m just—mmff—having a bit of a migraine,” you lie, gritting your teeth as Rahu languidly fucks into you. Her other hand resumes playing with your clit and you cover your whine with another cough. 

“Oh… are you sure you’re alright? Should I get you some painkillers?” Nightingale asks, still worried, and hopefully unaware. 

“N-no, I’m fine, adjutant,” you gasp out. “J-just need some—mm!—time alone.” 

“If you’re certain,” Nightingale sighs, though she sounds unconvinced. “I’ll leave these papers on your desk for when you feel better.”

“Thanks, adjutant.” 

Finally, Nightingale’s steps recede, and you slump against the shelf, feeling boneless. The only thing holding you up right now was Rahu’s dick buried inside you, honestly. An amused smile tugs at the sinner’s pretty features. “You were clenching on me the whole time,” she says lowly, scraping her teeth along the shell of your ear. “Did that excite you? Almost getting caught bent over for one of your sinners?”

“Fuck, Rahu, please,” you beg, the need in your core almost painful now. “Please just fuck me, please, please.” 

Rahu snarls, and the hand around your throat tightens. Then she’s fucking into you, resuming her brutal pace from before. Your breath is forced out of you with each ruthless rut of her hips, coming out in pinched wheezes as Rahu squeezes your neck–not enough to completely cut off your air, but just enough to certainly make you feel it. Her other hand leaves your clit to splay across your belly, her touch like fire on your already heated skin. Then she’s pressing down, right over the bulge her cock forms as it’s nestled deep in your cunt. 

“Can you feel that, Chief?” Rahu breathes, “the outline of my cock inside you? Filling this cute cunt up?” 

Your eyes flick down, and though the angle makes it difficult, you can see the slight ridge on your abdomen—and that’s all it takes for you to cream all over Rahu’s dick, eyes rolling back into your head. Rahu grunts as she feels you suddenly bear down on her, thrusting jerkily up into you while the hand around your throat tightens, stifling the cute, pitiful whines you make. She wasn’t expecting you to cum so quickly, but the feeling of your pussy wrapped around her is so downright heavenly she isn’t complaining at all. She’s getting closer and closer to her own peak, the hard muscles in her abs tightening. Her rutting reaches a fever pitch as she chases her high, uncaring of the way you’ve started to squirm on her cock from overstimulation.

“Just a little more,” she gasps out, burying her face in your shoulder, blunt teeth teasing your skin. “Just a little more, taking me so well, such a good little slut for me–”

The hand on your belly moved back to toy with your clit, harsh flicks that makes each nerve in your body jolt. Your mind feels like it’s breaking in half as Rahu uses your body for her own pleasure, your world narrowing down to the neediness between your legs. You’d barely come off the heels of your first orgasm and you were already starting to careen headfirst into the second. Your brain had long dripped out of your pussy as Rahu fucks herself deeper into you, her thrusts starting to get choppy and uneven until–

Rahu’s teeth sink deep into your shoulder and she hilts as deep as she can go, her tip smushed against the tight ring of your cervix as she spills hot cum deep into you with a growl. Your lips part in a soundless wail as you cum again on her cock, creating a white, frothy ring around the base of it. Rahu keeps driving her hips as she floods your cunt with white, as if she’s trying to fuck her cum right into your womb. 

The intensity of it all must’ve made you black out, because when you come back down to Earth, Rahu’s already slipping out of your abused cunt with a loud squelch. The drag of her softening cock as it retreats from you makes you shiver nonetheless–and you both groan as your mixed cum starts to leak from your hole and down your thighs. Globs of it, thick and creamy, spill from your gaping pussy and you shudder against the shelf, bracing yourself completely on it. Your hips jerk as Rahu’s fingers reach out to tug your drenched panties back into place, ensuring whatever remaining cum left in your pussy stays there. She even affectionately pats your cunt, which makes you whine, but Rahu makes it up to you by turning your head to gently kiss you. 

When she pulls back, there’s a mildly guilty look on her face as she takes in your disheveled state. “Sorry… about that.” 

You mumble out an incoherent answer, your thoughts still scattered around in your skull. Rahu tucks herself back into her slacks, then takes the initiative to help clean you up, gently turning you around so your back is resting against the shelf. She helps you back into your own pants, and buttons your shirt up as best she can, glancing apologetically as you shift uncomfortably. 

“Let me help you get back to your quarters,” Rahu offers, standing by your side as you shuffle out of the Archives, squeezing your thighs together. You nod, moving to grab your coat from where it hangs on your chair, resting it on your shoulders and letting it drape over your body. But before Rahu can lead the way out of your office, you wrap your fingers around her wrist and tug her back towards you. She stumbles in surprise, and you take the opportunity to pull her down by her tie so that she’s face-to-face with you. 

“I hope you know what’s waiting for you, puppy,” you say softly, your voice a low, sultry promise despite the hoarseness of it. Rahu’s pupils dilate, and you see the way her throat bobs. “Bad dogs should be disciplined, right?” 

(Once you get back to your quarters, you push Rahu onto her back and ride her until she’s shooting blanks and crying so prettily beneath you. So all in all, you’d say it was pretty worth it—even if you had to endure the knowing, disappointed look Nightingale will give you when you step into the office the next morning.)

[actual-changeling]

congratulations to @nightgoodomens for making me write the first ficlet of the year! this is so schmoopy and soft it almost makes me want to turn it super angsty instead—but i didn't, so enjoy the happiness while it lasts. inspired by this post.

you can also find it on ao3!

-

"Amazing how they came up with this all on their own, isn't it?"

Crowley leans back and stretches his neck as far as it will go, losing himself not in the noise but the spaces between sparks, the stars no one can see but are there living and shining nevertheless.

They find themselves on a different rooftop every year, always close enough to see it all but far enough away to create their own bubble of shared joy. His coat is hanging open, the cold, smoke-saturated air rushing past him, and when he closes his eyes just for a second, he can pretend the fireworks exploding above him are galaxies being born; his creations, still right where he put them after all this time.

Next to him, Aziraphale hums quietly, knowing all too well that Crowley is not expecting a response—nor would he hear it if he were to give him one. Instead, he keeps his gaze on his face, tracing the lines of his profile as he carefully pulls off his gloves, finger by finger, before stuffing them into his pocket. He remembers, oh, he remembers, the innocent love he saw flowing through him back then, before time, before earth, before Mother became God became the Almighty.

Before all they loved was lost, one way or another. Then again, while defying all possible odds, they managed to find it once more, not just in each other but in humanity.

Another explosion showers them with sparks that will never reach their skin, and a bright shout of joy follows right after, Crowley's eyes impossibly wide.

"Beautiful," he whispers, and Aziraphale cannot stop himself from tentatively pressing their palms together.

Absently yet with deeply ingrained care, Crowley intertwines their hands, pulling him closer to point at a spot in the sky, and there is smoke on his lips and warmth in their bodies—the same heat, given freely, shared.

"If you go that way, do you know where you'll land?"

Shuffling towards him until he can rest his chin on Crowley's shoulder, he carefully lifts their joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles, still watching him, carving out a spot for his fire-lit face in his memory.

"Alpha Centauri," he replies softly, leaving another, almost imperceptible kiss on his cheek.

"Alpha Centauri," Crowley confirms, leaning their heads together, and for a while, the world is everything he ever wanted it to be.

[mysterycitrus]

There are less than a thousand works in the Dick Grayson/Roy Harper tag we have to DO something im literally dying

babes i am typing as fast as i can i prommy

[guppygiggles]

Ticklefish… 💙

[collectivecloseness]

Eddie Munson getting a bump/bruise/cut on his head that you put a bandaid on, and he’s bumping it into your mouth every fifteen seconds, like a cat, and being the whiniest baby ever. He needs you to kiss his mark now! Every time, every second! Love him! He’s hurt! Help him!

‘Nooooo’ he whines when you are not kissing it/him. It was his own fault he got it, you told him to be careful when he was acting like his usual self, pre-bandaid. You’ve given him some ibuprofen and water, but he’s all cuddled up to you and not going anywhere.

He will straight up look at you offended if you even mention you are getting up, like he will give you the most offended and sometimes bitchy look, for real. How dare you even think about leaving him in his condition right now?

He’ll nuzzle his bandaided head into your mouth tirelessly, so much that no matter where you move your head, or if you’re trying to talk, you’ve got a plaster and Eddie’s boney head and a tonne of curls following your face everywhere, nuzzling right into your lips so you can’t even talk to Eddie about it. You’re smothered easily once again.

There’s no escape from Eddie and his need. You could breathe if you just gave him his kisses like he wanted! Eventually you get too busy pulling hairs out your mouth, while Eddie’s whimpering into your jaw, how you’re just being so horrible to him, whilst still hiding in your face.

Eddie is your stubborn and soft baby but he will just ram his head into your face harder if you say that. When you ask him if his injury hurts so much why is him acting like a horned goat not making him cry in pain, he just grabs your arms and pulls them over himself instead. Not letting you move your arms out of his tight hold whatsoever.

When you stop babying Eddie, or tease him too much, he’s telling you how mean you are to your injured boyfriend, saying don’t you always tell him boys can show their vulnerable side too, and why won’t you use your mouth for less bullying him and more magical healing kissing? Why don’t you love him anymore huh?

He keeps up with this all the way until nighttime, even if it happened in the morning. He’ll be the saddest/most annoying (whatever works) boy all day long so you stay snuggled up with him, looking after your poor injured helpless baby.

Eddie will only fall asleep with you constantly giving kisses around, not on, his very small no longer even hurting mark, swearing that’s the only way he can be lulled to sleep. Blinking those dark brown eyes up at you if you stop, and pouting about how he can’t sleep the pain away if you do that.

And God, Eddie Munson can sell cute.

And that’s just how Eddie dozes off after a long hard day for him, with your arms and legs wrapped around him, his own limbs clinging around yours, and with constant kisses to his injured head until he’s knocked out peacefully in bed snuggled into you, unrelated to his head trauma

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

WEEWOO IM HERE FOR THE EVENT!! (also smth I noticed, you can't copy paste your moots @ from one post to another, bc they don't receive the notif;_; I checked my mentions for your @ and uh- nope)

ANYWAY "nights spent in" with Leona pls (or Ruggie or Kalim or Jack or Jamil 💀💀) I just want a lazy night with takeout and cuddles and looking at the city/town from the hotel or room balcony in peace but I also need this frigging degree-

Nights Spent In; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, so much fluff, gender-neutral reader, romance

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; I came up with a whole meal for this and I want everything. All of the food mentioned is North Indian vegetarian food, except for Leona's. Best of luck with that degree, Soru!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You were lounging on the sofa on the balcony, a light breeze coming off the waves helping cut most of the heat from the day as night slowly painted the sky in a deep navy. Honestly, you could fall asleep right here, since you were warm and very comfy. Count on the royal family of the Sunset Savannah to spare no expense, even when it came to their balcony furniture for the smallest of their vacation homes. 

Speaking of the Kingscholars, Leona had said that he was going out to grab you both dinner, which would have shocked anyone else, but he put in the work when it came to you. You were the exception. Of course, though, he expected something in return, which was usually either using you as his pillow or giving him a kiss… or several until he was satisfied with how fast he could make your heart flutter. Smug bastard…

“Hmm, I went through all the trouble of gettin’ you food and here you are nearly passed out,” he sighed, having sneaked up on you. But he sighed, putting the food down.

Leona leisurely walked over to you before promptly laying on top of you and resting his chin on your shoulder, trapping you. He let out a long sigh and bumped his head against yours.

Taking the message, you started scratching behind his ears and hummed. “I thought I had to pay you back after we ate,” you mused.

He chuffed, but his tail was slowly waving back and forth in a relaxed manner, he was only putting on a show. “You can pay me now and then,” he grumbled, looking up at you and raising a brow expectantly.

You knew that face, it was the face that he made when he wanted a kiss but didn’t want to say it. “You can get the rest of it, but after we eat-” your stomach made a low rumble underscoring your statement. “Before I decide to eat you instead,” you joked, and poked him in the ribs to prompt him to get off you.

Leona rolled his eyes, but yielded, he wanted his damn kisses sooner rather than later. Plus the last time he had decided to lay on you and prevent you from getting food, you had indeed bit him. Even though you didn’t really leave a mark, it still stung a bit, and he would rather not get teased by the others if they found out it had happened again.

“What did you get by the way,” you asked. Whatever it was smelled divine. Your stomach gurgled even louder, sounding more akin to some beast demanding food.

Leona chuckled a bit at the commotion, but brought the food out. “Went to a small place, family run and owned,” and he brought out several containers of food. He looked at his order, “Malai kofta, raita, paratha, mattar paneer-”

You saw one other container and raised a brow.

“Rogan josh,” he answered, swiping the container away from you.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you were more than happy at the food he had got, and knew that he left a hefty tip even though he would deny it. Not only had he made you, and your ravenous stomach’s, night, but also the restaurant owners’ as well. 

Now content and full of food, the both of you laid in bed, your legs intertwined. “Thanks for getting dinner,” you hummed, feeling the sleepiness from earlier returning.

Leona turned his head to you, and rubbed circles on your hip, slowly. He was wearing the same expectant look again. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” But there was no smugness, Leona was full and just as tired as you, so he was more like a tired kitty looking for some love.

You shuffled over and placed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he let out a tired sigh, pupils dilating into round saucers. “I love you,” you placed another kiss on his lips before placing one on his scar and lingering there.

He bumped his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know… I love you too.”

~~~~~~~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @inkybloom-luv, @savanaclaw1996, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii @leonistic