#imagine being that pressed over something I do

[clusterbuck]

being unable to keep their eyes off of them please??

Eddie wants to get the hell out of here.

He feels kind of bad about it, because Bobby and Athena throw a great barbecue, and any other day of the week he’d love to grab a beer and settle in for as long as they’ll have him. Any other day of the year, really—

Just not the same day Buck kissed him.

He’d always imagined that if he ever scraped enough resolve together to try something with Buck, it would happen in the heat of the moment. After a close call on a rescue, maybe, or at a bar after a shift sometime, when he has just enough alcohol in him to push past the nagging doubts in his mind.

He’d always imagined that if anything ever happened, it would be because he took that first step. He could, when he was feeling hopeful, imagine Buck would be into it, but it had never even crossed his mind that Buck might want him enough to be the one to cross the invisible line between friends and something more. 

Only—

Two hours ago, he stood in the firehouse parking lot and watched Buck pace and forth in the artificially bright glow of a streetlamp for all of thirty seconds before drawing to a stop right in front of him, toe to toe across the faded outline of a parking space. 

“I’m going to do something,” Buck said, the warmth of his exhale ghosting across Eddie’s skin. “And you can tell me if I’m wrong. But—” he hooked one finger in the belt loop of Eddie’s jeans, tugging slightly, and the movement danced like lightning down Eddie’s spine. 

“—I don’t think I’m wrong.” 

And he tugged on the belt loop again, pulling Eddie closer into his space, and pressed his mouth to Eddie’s.

It seemed to last a lifetime, and it was over far too soon. Buck pulled back, careful, drawing a ragged breath, and Eddie leaned into chase him and found Buck grinning against his lips.

“Not wrong, then?” Buck murmured, and it took Eddie a moment to remember what Buck had said just before.

“Definitely not wrong,” he breathed. The words were half-lost in Buck’s mouth but he must have understood them anyway, because he laughed, bright and clear, before pushing Eddie up against the car behind him to kiss him again.

It was only when Buck’s phone rang, vibrating in his pocket so that Eddie felt it against his own thigh, that they remembered the barbecue. And that they’d promised to bring ice.

So now Eddie’s here, and for the first time he can remember he desperately wants to leave. 

He and Buck hadn’t really talked about it, so he’s trying to act normal. Which is to say he’s trying to act like he doesn’t want to walk across Bobby and Athena’s backyard and grab Buck by the collar to drag him in for another kiss. Or to demand what the fuck it means. 

He would describe himself as moderately successful. 

But in Eddie’s defence, if the rest of them knew the situation he doesn’t think they could blame him for the way his eyes keep getting drawn to Buck no matter where he is, like the universe is shining a spotlight on him. It’s not his fault Buck’s laugh lights up the room and he can’t help but look.

It’s not his fault that Buck catches him looking, sometimes, and smiles a smile that says he’s thinking about what happened in the parking lot. 

A smile that says he’s thinking about doing it again.

And it—well, maybe it is his fault when he grins back, his face trying to settle on something somewhere between wanting and bashful, but there are extenuating circumstances. He is, after all, only one man. 

Overall, Eddie’s pretty sure nobody could blame him for the fact that he wants to get the hell out of here.

Just then, Hen sidles up to where he’s leaning against the kitchen island and settles in next to him, mirroring his position and crossing her arms. 

“You should take your man home,” she says. 

Eddie flushes, and she laughs.

“You’re not being particularly subtle,” she says. “Either of you. I don’t know what happened exactly—” she raises a hand when Eddie tries to open his mouth “—and I don’t need to know. But you should take him home before it happens again on Bobby and Athena’s patio.” 

Eddie’s face feels so warm he’s surprised he can’t see cartoon heat lines wafting off his cheeks. 

Hen laughs again, gentler this time. “No one’s judging you, Eddie,” she says, and nudges him with her elbow. “I remember what it was like in the beginning. So go, take him home. I know you want to.” 

“I—yeah,” Eddie says, and lets himself grin. “I really do.” 

He doesn’t need to look for Buck, because he already knows where he is. He makes his way across the room, through their gathered friends and family, and over to where Buck is talking to Chimney. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as he does it, but Hen said it was obvious anyway, so he takes a deep breath and stands behind Buck, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder. 

“Hi,” Buck says, breathy with surprise but his cheeks pink with pleasure.

“Hen said I should take my man home,” Eddie says, and makes a concerted effort not to look at Chimney. He focuses instead on Buck’s cheek against his, and the way it crinkles when he smiles.

“Did she?” Buck says. “I guess we should listen to the captain, then.” 

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Eddie murmurs. They slip through the room, and Eddie tries to avoid Hen’s knowing look as they duck out of the front door without bothering with goodbyes.

As soon as the door closes, Eddie grabs Buck by the hips and pushes him against it, crowding into his space. “This is all I’ve been thinking about all night.”

“It’s only been two hours,” Buck says.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot longer than two hours,” Eddie says, and watches Buck’s eyes go dark. Then he grins. “Besides, do you want to nitpick, or do you want to kiss me?” 

“I can multitask,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs and kisses him for it, and for a moment the world narrows to just the two of them, wrapped up in each other against Bobby’s front door.

“Actually,” Buck murmurs, a moment or three later, when Eddie’s forehead rests against Buck’s and both their breaths come a little heavy. “I wanna change my answer.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “To what?” 

“I want you to take me home.”

send me a blossoming romance prompt 🌸

[tadpolesonalgae]

Melting[*]

Rhysand x reader

a/n: This has been on my mind for so long it’s so unfair 🥞

warnings: nipple play, Rhys’s mouth, reader kinda being in sub-space? Definitely getting put in it at least, very soft Rhysand, very overstimulated reader

word count: 1,788

——————————————————————————————————————————————

You peek into his office, gripping the door to lean on as you poke your head into the open room. 

Violet eyes flick upward, and you’re sensitive enough that your breath catches, spotting that adoring twinkle in his gaze as it meets your own. 

“Darling?” He asks, the low roll of his voice having your thighs press together lightly, and you glance away briefly, slightly embarrassed. “Do you have a moment?” You ask, managing to force yourself to look him in the eyes. “Maybe it bit longer than a moment, actually. It’s fine if not,” you add hurriedly, noting the papers on his desk. 

His brows quirk with interest, lips curving subtly as he leans back in his chair, resting his hands over the arms as he a heat enters his eyes. “I always have moments for you,” he replies reassuringly, his gaze practically beckoning you forward. “Come here,” he murmurs, and you flush at the tone—he’s always been able to read you extraordinarily well, knowing how to speak with you and what you’re wanting in that moment. 

Throat rolling, you step into his office, and Rhys’s eyes twinkle as you firmly shut the door at your back, before moving deeper into the room, padding over to him. His fingers flex lightly and you imagine he’d like to touch you but is deciding against it due to your obvious skittishness. You didn’t think something so sweet would have such an intense heat gathering in your lower belly, but here you are. 

“Now, why don’t you tell me what this is about?” Rhys muses, and warmth flushes your skin, before hesitantly stepping closer between his long legs as you tentatively settle your palms over his broad shoulders. Rhys reads the permission, at last shifting his hands to your body, grazing up the outside of your thighs, curving over the sweep of your hips and pausing there, thumbs stroking in gently soothing circles. 

“I…” you begin, but even thinking about voicing it has the sensitivity stopping you, the kind of need you have driving you quietly insane. Rhys hums lowly, encouragingly, but it only adds to the wild heat between your thighs, and you’re certain he can scent how badly you need him—might even be able to taste it, for how intense your scent is becoming, filling the air thickly. 

Teeth push into the soft inner part of your lower lip, fingers pressing into his shoulders lightly as you glance away, tightening around nothing but needing him so acutely you feel like you might crumble. So instead you wrap your fingers around his wrist—partially, at least—meeting his eyes as you guide his hand up your body, settling his palm over your right breast. 

The moment you feel him your breath catches, vision flickering a little as your lungs stutter, lips parting as you press into him more, so relieved to have the sensitivity being soothed. Heat wraps itself around your mind, pushing away the previous embarrassment as you look at him longingly, hand moving to settle over his as you step even closer. “Please, Rhys,” you breathe softly, fingers already intertwining with his free hand at your hip. “I’ll do anything,” you murmur, dizzying heat flushing your body as he runs his thumb over your breast, the feeling so intense despite the clothing between you. “So please, don’t…don’t tease… Not now.” 

The adoring hunger in his violet eyes as he watches you has you desperate for more, to have his bare skin against your own, to curl up into him while he lets his hands wander, anything to relieve the acute need you’re experiencing. His expression is soft, if a little mischievous, and his hold on your hip pulls you closer. “How could I deny a plea like that?” He murmurs, lips curving as you exhale heavily. 

It’s all you need before you’re stepping away a little in order to rid yourself of your top, fingers catching at the hem as you hurriedly pull it off over your head, dropping it somewhere before returning to him, practically crawling into his lap as your knees settle either side of him on the intentionally large chair—he’d been prepared for something like this to happen. Your hands shakily cup his jaw as your mouth slants over his own, both your eyes fluttering shut as you fall into the kiss, lips moving slowly but desperately. 

You gasp when his hands both come up to cup your breasts, breathing becoming slightly heavier and Rhys takes the chance to gently ply your lips further apart, tongue flicking hotly against your own and you moan sweetly for him. Your fingers shake as he thumbs across your breasts, the pads of his digits almost lazily brushing the hypersensitive peaks of your nipples and you have to pull away from the kiss, head lowered in attempts to instinctively hide the the expression of desperation that’s surely on your features. 

“Look at me, darling,” Rhys instructs gently, and you can’s bring yourself to deny him, meeting his adoring gaze. “Rhys,” you pant, though it comes out closer to a moan, hands shifting to run through his silky, blue-black hair. “Gods…Rhys, please,” you beg softly, looking at him pleadingly, hands stroking through his hair in supplication.

Rhys’ lips curve, and then he’s leaning forward and breath gets caught in your lungs as his mouth latches over one of your nipples. Your mouth parts, brows curving as your eyes flutter shut as the delightful warmth soothes the need that had been quietly buzzing beneath your skin. “Rhys…” you whisper, practically cradling his head in your hands as your spine curves, offering your chest in the hopes he’ll continue. You’ll cry if he pulls away. 

The tip of his tongue flicks over your nipple, lips sealed gently over your breast and you feel a pressure behind your eyes. Oh gods…oh gods… You pant softly as he circles the unfairly sensitive peak, managing to peek your eyes open enough to lock with softened violet. His thumb grazes your other breast, and you feel something hot and liquid spill down your cheek. 

Happy? His voice gently echoes through your mind, and you stroke his hair attentively, brushing your fingers through the raven locks, feelings as though words are from another realm entirely. Amusement and affection flickers through his gaze, and you swallow as he runs the flat of his tongue soothingly over your nipple, pulling away only briefly to shift you in his arms, and you can make out how the skin is gleaming, freshly-licked. 

Goosebumps scatter over your body at the movement—his mouth switching to the other breast, hand coming up to continue stimulating you while his free one snakes around your hip, dipping between your thighs, and you think you start trembling as the pads of his fingers brush between your legs. 

Don’t stop, you think to him, unaware of the thoughts singing across the bond. Don’t stop…please…don’t ever stop… 

He hums softly, and your eyes flutter, rolling slightly from the rich drag of his voice. Again the tip of his tongue flicks over the unfairly sensitive peak of your breast before circling lightly, flattening over your nipple as he licks gently, taking care to keep his teeth to himself. He experiments a little, removing his thumb from swiping across your breast and instead capturing your nipple between his middle and index finger, lightly squeezing, rolling the peak between his digits, paying close attention to your reactions. 

You inhale deeply, another tear dripping down as you moan sweetly, giving him as much of your own affection as you can manage, given your overstimulated state. 

Carefully, he circles your nipple with the pad of his middle finger, making sure not to apply too much pressure, to keep his touch soft and light so it feathers across your skin, oscillating like he does over your clit in the way he might if he were looking to tease you for something. But over your breast it’s nothing short of perfect, combined with the gentle but diligent strokes of his tongue and the way he’s rubbing between your legs…even through the thin fabric of your underwear, you know it’ll be more than enough. 

“Rhys…” his name slips from your lips, hot and breathless as you pant, looking so out of it he has half a mind to take you to bed and spend the rest of the day worshipping your pretty nipples. 

A few more stray tears are pushed from your lashes as you come, the orgasm blossoming through your body in gentle pulses rather than crashing waves, and your body turns soft and pliant beneath his touch—beneath his mouth. You’re unaware of his name repeating on your tongue, echoing across the bond, unable to think of a single other thing except his name, and Rhys struggles a little to keep from pulling you down into his lap so he can grind against your sex. 

You’re flushed and panting once the pleasure begins to fade, fingers remaining in his thick, silky hair, occasionally stroking when you can manage the effort. 

Rhys watches you quietly, still gently soothing his tongue over your breast, palm covering your other to make sure you don’t feel even the slightest bit of cold. 

Happy? He repeats into your mind, eyes twinkling and you swallow heavily before managing a faint nod, still reeling from sensitivity. Incredibly, you reply, settling down into his lap as he removes his hand, instead being able to now feel the hot press of him against your centre. I’m sorry, you think to him, fresh warmth rising to your cheeks, you didn’t cum. 

His thumb grazes over your nipple, causing your breath to catch at the stimulation. 

Don’t say things like that to me, he replies lowly, shadowy voice dragging through the soft interior of your mind. Why not? You ask tentatively, hips shifting over his own almost shyly. I want you to—

Don’t finish that, he cuts you off, able to hear the breathless note in his request. 

Your eyes lock with his own, barely suppressed hunger lazing in his violet gaze. You know, I said I’d do anything, you begin quietly, so, if you want… Rhys groans softly, pleasurable mouth raising so his lips to brush your own, able to feel the soft caress of breath. You wouldn’t be leaving my bed if I had my way with you, he thinks earnestly, tipping into the soft touch of your fingers as they again stroke through his hair. 

That’s fine by me, you return, lips grazing his own, again shifting over his hips. I wouldn’t have offered anything if I hadn’t wanted to.

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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

[daydreams-after-dark]

can I request for enhypen jake?

imagine you booked an oil massage from popular spa/salon or whatever it is. Jake was assigned to you not knowing he is the actual owner and he find you beautiful so he purposely gave you a thin clothes for the massage (bra and underwear thing). He purposely massage your boobs and core telling you it's part of the package you avail not until you felt something entering your pussy and jake pounding you.

Goodness me!!! So I haven't ever written anything other than skz, but @kangnina has been opening me up to these gorgeous guys so I'm going to give this a go. 😊

cw: massage turns sexual, fondling, fiingering, p in v unprotected, cum eating, squirting

You're laid out on the massage table in just your thin pair of briefs and the towel provided by the spa.

You wait patiently, then you hear a door open and close softly, and someone adjusting the towel.

"Gooed evening, y/n. My name is Jake, and I'll be your masseuse today." he said soothingly as he tests your muscles by pressing down on various areas of your back.

"Now, you do know what service you booked today, don't you?"

"Yes." you answer timidly.

Jake chuckled. "Now just remember to relax. You don't have to do a thing. Just leave everything to me."

He peels the towel from you upper half. You feel the warm massage oil land on your skin, then Jake's hands begin to work the oil into your skin.

You know the etiquette for receiving a massage is to not make any moaning sounds, and usually you are more than capable of following this 'rule', but for some reason, this particular massage feels different.

You have to bite your tongue, when his hands move lower and he removes the towel entirely. Jake sucks in a breath when your body is on display for him, and you hear him whisper a shaky "fuck" as he pulls your briefs down, revealing your ass.

"Is the room a comfortable temperature? Do you need me to turn up the heating?" he purrs as he massages your ass cheeks.

"No, it's good." you squeak, as you feel some oils being drizzled on your crack.

"How's the pressure? Too soft? Too firm?" he inquires.

"It's good." you sigh. Actually, you are becoming extremely wet, and you hope he doesn't notice.

"And what about here? How's the pressure?" he whispers as his fingers slip down to massage your pussy.

"That's good too." you pant.

"Good girl, just keep relaxing for me."

You moan.

"Pretty sound. You don't have to hold them back. Make all the sounds you want. The walls are soundproof."

He slips a finger inside you. "Good girl. So tight. We must give this attention in a moment." his voice is strained. "But first we need to massage your front. Roll over for me." he steps back to let you roll over. He helps remove your underwear entirely as you do so.

You are completely naked and on display for the hottest massage therapist you have ever seen.

He smiles down at you. "I will have to hop up on the table to reach. Is that okay?" you nod, and part your legs to make space for him to kneel between your thighs.

Jake was wearing a simple white t shirt and grey linen pants with an elastic waistband. A massive erection clearly visible underneath has you clenching at nothing.

He drizzles oil all over your breasts and stomach and begins to massage the front of your body. His hands squeeze your breasts in circle. "The pressure is still okay?" he checks in.

"Harder. Squeeze them harder." you reply looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Like this?" he squeezes harder and you let out whimper. He smirks and his hands trail down your stomach, and then back up.

He leaves one hand on a breast while the other travels down your body to run through your folds. His eyes flick up to yours. "You're responding so well to the massage." He notes, as he pulls his linen pants down to release his cock.

"Now for the most important part of the service." he says shakily.

He pours some oil directly onto his cock, then runs the tip up and down through your folds.

"Hold your legs up for me. That's the way. That's it." He's still massaging your breast as he pushes his cock into your pussy.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the fullness. "Fuck...ngh..." you look down to where he is inside you and you flop your head back onto the bed. Such a stretch.

"We need to massage your internal walls now. I'm going to have to use a very forceful technique. Make as much noise as you need to. I can't stop until we have fully worked out the tension."

Jake begins to fuck your pussy, just like he said he needed to. Long, hard, deep thrusts. You can't help but whimper on each impact.

"So tight. So much tension." he grunts. "Gotta work out those tense spots." he changes the angle of his thrusts, directing his efforts towards your g spot. He presses down on your lower abdomen, making his cock feel even bigger inside you.

"Oh... fuck...please..." you cry.

"I know... I know... we're nearly there." he releases your abdomen so he can massage your clit, and his other hand reaches underneath to squeeze your ass.

You're panting, whimpering and are on the verge of tears. Your pussy is so loud, your moans are louder. Lucky the walls are soundproof. The tension inside you is about to snap.

"That's it. I can feel you're about to release. Let go for me. Let it all go. Don't worry about any mess. Just let go."

Your orgasm is coaxed from you, making your entire body quiver beneath him. You sob as liquid gushes from you all over Jake's cock and linen pants. You made such a mess.

"Oh my fucking god." you pant. "Fuck." your cover your eyes.

He takes his time to pull out of you, and comes around to the side of the massage table.

"Now for the final part of your service. To hydrate you. Open." he nudges your lips open with the tip of his cock, then strokes himself until thick ropes of cum land on your tongue.

"Good girl." he praises as he wipes your lip.

"Take your time getting dressed. I'll meet you out front to book your follow up session which involves two massage therapists. I think it'd be best to book a series of services as I feel it's going to take a while to really massage those deeper places." he smiles and leaves you alone to recover.

a/n: i hope this was okay. It turned out pretty wild in the end.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89

[poetryvampire]

painfully needy Rolan going into rut

Had this on the brain lately. I don't think it would take much to make Rolan an absolute mess but imagine how worse it would be when he's going into rut. Boy would snap so fast

Rolan x afab non-tiefling reader

Have some 🔥spicy🔥 musings

*this went longer than I wanted lol. But if you like it tell me if you want more 🧡

● Rolan had been doing this dance with you for months now. Both working at Sorcerous Sundries you saw each other regularly, even tried to work together as much as possible (not that he'd ever admit that). The banter, the playful mockery leading to not so subtle flirtation was easy until now.

● The conversations didn't flow like before. A joke about becoming a doe eyed scarcely dressed maiden -like the ones on the covers of those novels you so enjoy- suddenly lead his mind to wander. Any wisecrack replaced with the image of you gazing at him so lustfully. An image that stays with him for the rest of the day (and night).

● Lia and Cal are very vocal about his uptick in irritability. He tries to ignore them but they're not wrong. Ever little thing sets him off. He's frustrated at himself. For letting the feelings get so far without truely noticing. For being too proud or too embarrassed to act on them.

●He often forgets his words as his eyes lingered on your lips, your neck, your figure. More than once you caught him staring and to his surprise no offense was taken. Just a quizzical look, perhaps a soft smile that flooded his face with warmth.

●Rolan would have almost preferred you'd have met him with anger. Now the hope of you ran rampant through him. That if he was ever to give in he may be met with the embrace he so longed for. The need for you was growing by the day. He even took care to not stand to closely to you now. He coursed himself for it. How had he become so starved for affection that even the scent of you sprung his body to life.

●The wizard had spent many nights forced to take action if he was to ever find sleep. He'd be tangled in his sheets, hair wild, trusting violently into his own fist. He tries to keep his fantasies to more abstract forms of pleasure but as hard as he tries the vague shapes melt into crystal clear images of you. It would always be you around him like a vice that would push him over the edge.

● There were times he'd lose himself so throughly he'd cry out your name as he came. Embarrassed by this lack of control, Rolan told himself it was better to happen here than in front of you.

● Going into work that morning something felt off. Rolan's whole body felt extra sensitive, aching. The horrible thought finally struck him at midday. Was he going into rut? Now!? With such little warning? He calms himself. He's not certain after all.

● Until he's been paired with you to clean out and old study turned storage room. He's hyper aware of your scent. Its filling his lungs,making his knees weak. The room isn't exactly small but it's stuffed with stacks of books making moving around a problem. You're constantly having to squeeze (delightfully, terrifyingly) close to each other.

● Luckily you're busying yourself with the task at hand. Rolan prays you won't notice how red (red-er) his face is or the sizable bulge he's currently cloaking with a stack of books. The straining against his pants is almost painful. He's eyeing the door, anything to escape the heat building in his blood.

●His eyes fall back to you and all notions of making a run for it leave his mind. Along with everything else that isn't right in front of him. You looked a vision, standing on and old box body spread across the book self as you attempt to reach something on the top shelf. Not only was it a perfect view of your form, it reminded him of a pose one might see in an old painting.

●Suddenly the box wobbled threatening to send you falling backwards. Your scream was cut short as you felt Rolan catch you, arms wrap around your middle tightly pressing you to him. His face buried in your hair he couldn't help utter a deep groan. The wave of intoxicating aroma washing away his last bit of restraint.

●With ease he flips you around, pressing you into the shelf, a maon escaping your lips. Your hands came to his chest not to push him away but in a gentle caress.

●'Rolan? Please,' was hardly out on your mouth when they were swallowed by his lips. He kisses you like a drowning man breaking the water's surface. Madly, desperately as if any second you may be taken away for him. Hungrily he deepens the kiss and your lips part for him with ease, both of you relishing in the taste.

●It's only when you part for air he realizes he's been rocking his hips into you. An apology catches in his throat as you grind back against him. He's dizzy with lust, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

●His lips find your neck, kissing, sucking and biting. Trying his best not to break the skin. Your moans drive him on. His hands are frantic running all over you. Soon your hands lead his to the laces on your dress. He makes quick work of it.

●Rolan takes you in his arms again and lays you down on a near by table. A little too eager he tears your under things away completely. But to his awe you only laugh and spread yourself out for him to drink you in fully. You're a goddess in his eye and he intends to worship.

●Words spill senselessly from him as he lavishes you with his mouth. 'Fuck, Fuck! You're beautiful you're perfect. I need- God's, l need you I need you.' He hasn't the brain for elegance now. He's kissing you everywhere maoning words of love into your skin.

● As he makes it to your thighs he cannot help but bury is face between them. The sweet taste of your sex has him throbbing with out so much as a touch. He wants to make sure you're nice and ready for him. You're not a tiefling after all and he couldn't bare the thought of hurting you. It doesn't take long before you're dripping wet against his tongue as he slides wildly between attacking your entrance and your clit.

●You stifle a scream as an orgasm suddenly rips through you, your thighs shaking in his grasp. Youre still panting but you pull him away, drawing him closer to you. As you pull him into a soft kiss your hands unlace his pants (finally) freeing his erection. Though to hold him lightly his gasp is sharp. He's painfully hard; his head already glistening with precum.

●As he runs he length against your folds he tries to center himself. He doesn't want to be too rough or finish terribly fast. He wants to go slow but when he catches on your entrance he can't help but thrust into you, the relief of his agony so close. You tremble but encourage him on. His name quickly becoming a soft prayer on your lips.

●He's wrapped inside you now, almost all the way. The pleasure overwhelming him he opts for quicker shallow thrusts. He's taken aback by how vocal he is as more sweet lustful nothings spill from him. Rolan's control is fading fast. He's practically shaking, slamming himself into you losing whatever rhythm he had. The sight of your face contorting with pleasure is pushing him to his end. He can feel the hot pull in his gut. And suddenly something else as.

●A chill runs over him as he feels the swelling at the base of his cock. He grasps it and pulls out not wanting to subject you to something he didn't even take the time to explain. In part he's too late. He didn't fully knot but he still comes hard, spilling thick ropes all over your stomach and thighs. Fuck, you're beautiful like this.

● He blushes deeply and panics, apologizing over and over. He didn't want it to be like this. You run your fingers through his hair and kiss him gently. You don't know that much about teifling biology but Gods you wanted to learn. Rolan tries to believe you, that this wouldn't scare you off.

● He adjusted his pants, somehow still as uncomfortable as before. Perhaps it was the sight of you dressing. How you made no move to do away with his mess before you did. He could take you again easily. But not here.

● You convince him to claim illness and leave work early. To take time to rest. He agrees wanting to lock himself away from the world. And yet he also agrees to meet you that night. Then he'd have a more level head. A chance to explain himself and perhaps to hold you in his arms for longer.

Xoxo thanks for reading friends ❤️

[dottedsilktie]

pls make that nanami excel comments prompt longer 😭🙏🏻

that'd be my pleasure dear nonnie ! This ended up being how Kento basically "soft" launches his workplace romance with the reader and it's a bit suggestive lmao Let's set the scene first because I'm not sure if I've explained my reasoning before on here, but based on the info we have on Nanami's salaryman days (long work hours, little actual value added but emphasis on share-holder value creation) I HC him as either being a banker or working in private equity. So I imagine he needs to maintain a very professional façade, at the risk of even seeming inapproachable sometimes. cw : crack taken seriously, suggestive, fluff ?

Despite Kento's best efforts and his resolve of keeping you at arm's length - because what would people say if Nanami, revered Director, ends up dating a subordinate - he finds himself caring less and less about the rumours surrounding you both. After he wears out the last of his restraint trying to delay the inevitable, he just relents and lets it happen. He lets you drag him in and finds falling in your orbit pleasant. Natural, even. Kento goes from being the cut-throat, distant and laconic shadow of a man that disappears in his office all day to a softer version of himself even you have a hard time recognising. He can't get enough of you but work eats up any free time either of you have and you end up seeing each other in the office more often than in the comfort of your own home. So Kento comes up with other ways of sating his wants, even if it means tormenting you a little along the way.

It starts fairly innocently when you receive an email from him, pithily worded and unassuming, in which Kento requests you to help Yuuji - poor, struggling intern who clings to you like a lost puppy in the office jungle - check an unstable model. It's nothing. It's routine and, while you anticipate a few comments here and there, you reckon it'll only take a few minutes. What you don't expect is for Kento to be adamant about you doing it live on a call, with Yuuji and other interns as an audience, so it can serve as a lesson he'll oversee. His offer is unusual, too generous to not be questionable but who are you to refuse ? He's your boss, and when Kento tells you to jump, the only acceptable answer is 'Yes sir, how high ?'. The call is filled with a suspiciously large number of interns who hang on to your every word, and a very satisfied Kento who sports an undecipherable smile. As expected, you find a few comments, curtesy of Kento to guide your little "lesson" - where is the beta from, double check the amortisation of this, please fix formatting - but nothing that requires such a large audience.

Then his comments take a strange turn, they're not action items anymore, merely musings that Kento glosses over during the call. You see the way his lopsided smile goes from amused to predatory as he talks about the numbers you corrected and the inflated terminal value you manage to get or the hefty interest payments you're dealing with.

'Excellent work on the projections, you really know how to get it up' - this makes you choke on your coffee. You stare at your screen in alarm, hoping that no one caught the mirth in Kento's voice. 'The annuities here must be painful to take, but nothing we can't deal with, right ?', now you're positively flushing, thighs pressed together and ears ringing with shame and unbridled lust. With shaky hands, you fly through the rest of the file, shutting down any questions the snotty interns may raise, and vaguely excusing yourself, hiding behind a "conflicting" commitment. You think you've seen the last of this, but before you can hang up, Kento pipes up while the kids are still on the line.

Kento lets out an almost pained sigh, then quips, "Can you come by my office after this ? I'd love your help to adjust some - hum -" he's cut off by something suspiciously close to a groan - "Need your help adjusting my EBITDA".

The line goes silent. As if on cue, everyone else leaves, mumbled thanks and hushed whispers the only thing you hear before it's just you and Kento.

"What the fuck, Ken ?", you hiss over the static of your mic, voice low and alarmed. "Is this an appropriate way to address your MD ?", he retorts, now back to his seemingly professional front. You roll your eyes but he doesn't relent. "There are still some comments we haven't gone through, I reckon it'd be good to double check those adjustments", he mumbles without much conviction. You reason that your secret's already out by now and, well, you can't refuse Kento - even if it means doing some over time.

ANYWAY thanks again for stopping by nonnie dearest, it ended up being a weird crack post but I hope you found it funny at least ! Feel free to drop by my inbox whenever you want :)

edit : Nanami is a certified EBITDAddy 🤭

[iovebarca]

Hello!! I was wondering if I could request Marc guiu X reader? Maybe they could be shopping? Grocery shopping, Clothes shopping, really anything! It’s totally okay if you can’t write this, I understand! And don’t pressure yourself to write it, take your time and have fun!well that’s all, thank you if you do write this, have a good night :))

A Dress and a Kiss - Marc Guiu

Authors note: Finally had the time to write something😭 I hope I did your request well !!!❤️

Warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, just fluff!

WC: 800+

Summary: You and Marc spend the day running errands and shopping together. You surprise him with a beautiful dress and share a tender moment when you reveal it to him at home.

You and Marc stroll hand in hand through the bustling streets, the sun casting a warm glow over the city. Today is a day for errands, but with Marc by your side, even grocery shopping feels like an adventure.

As you enter the grocery store, you grab a cart and begin weaving through the aisles, Marc trailing behind you. With each item you toss into the cart, you exchange playful banter and stolen glances, reveling in the simple joy of being together.

"Hey, do we need more eggs?" Marc asks, holding up a carton with a mischievous grin.

You laugh and shake your head, swatting his arm playfully. "No, we're good on eggs. But grab some milk while you're over there."

Marc nods and heads off to the dairy section, leaving you to navigate the maze of shelves on your own. But it's not long before he's back by your side, a carton of milk in hand and a goofy grin on his face.

"Got it," he announces proudly, depositing the milk into the cart with a flourish.

You roll your eyes affectionately and continue your shopping, enjoying the easy rhythm of your time together.

After checking out at the grocery store, you and Marc make your way to the nearby clothing boutique. As you browse the racks of clothes, Marc offers his opinions on various outfits, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he helps you find the perfect pieces.

"That dress would look amazing on you," he says, holding up a flowy sundress in your favorite color.

You smile at his suggestion, grateful for his input. "You think so?"

"Definitely," he replies, his gaze soft and sincere. "But honestly, you could wear a potato sack and still look beautiful."

You laugh at his cheesy compliment, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "You're too sweet baby."

As you continue to shop, you spot a gorgeous dress tucked away on a display rack. It's perfect for a special occasion, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement as you imagine wearing it.

But when you pick it up to inspect it further, you realize that Marc is hovering nearby, trying to catch a glimpse of the dress.

"Hey, no peeking!" you scold playfully, holding the dress close to your chest to shield it from his view.

Marc pouts in mock disappointment, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aw, come on, just a little peek?"

You shake your head with a grin, tucking the dress securely under your arm. "Nope, it's a surprise. You'll have to wait until I wear it."

Marc laughs and relents, knowing better than to argue with you when you're determined. But as you continue to shop, he can't help but steal curious glances at the hidden treasure tucked safely away in your arms.

After a day of errands and shopping with Marc, you return home with a secret treasure tucked away: a beautiful dress you couldn't resist buying. As you step through the door of your shared apartment, excitement bubbles within you, eager to unveil your surprise.

"Close your eyes and wait right here."

With a chuckle, Marc obliges, closing his eyes and standing still as you slip away to change into your new purchase. As you carefully unzip the bag and slide the dress over your head, you can't help but feel a surge of anticipation. This dress is more than just fabric and seams—it's a symbol of your love and the excitement of sharing special moments with Marc.

Once you're ready, you take a deep breath and step out into the room, the skirt of the dress swishing softly around your legs. "Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Marc's eyes flutter open, and as he takes in the sight of you standing before him in the new dress, his breath catches in his throat. "Wow," he breathes, his gaze roaming over you appreciatively.

You twirl around, the skirt of the dress swirling gracefully around you, and a smile spreads across your face at Marc's awestruck expression. "What do you think?"

"Wow- I think you look absolutely stunning," Marc says, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

But before you can respond, he's crossing the room in quick strides, his hands reaching out to pull you close. "And I think I'm a very lucky man."

In that moment, bathed in the gentle moonlight, you lean in and press a tender kiss to Marc's lips. It's a kiss filled with love and gratitude, a silent expression of everything you feel for him.

His arms wrap around you and you melt into his embrace, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath against your skin.

"I love you too," you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple truth of those words.

[fuckmyskywalker]

https://twitter.com/johnnieto_/status/1785096029437596049?s=19

someone asked about Ani being the killer remind me of this gif (I didn't watch the actual movie yet), I can imagine him doing something similar if he's horny, and the reader being so fucked up she would spread hers legs unconsciously

I even quoted "imagine this, but with a lightsaber", the tweet went viral, so I guess a lot of sw fans can picture anakin right there too lol

- 🍷

— Link

Imagine the handle of his lightsaber, prying your thighs open, chuckling when just the contact itself makes you spread them further. How he will lean down, how his blonde curls will brush over your face. "So eager," He whispers, kissing your cheek. He's been waiting for two weeks— stuck in a dreadfully slow mission— and now that he can touch you, feel you, have you— he will make every second count.

He presses the base against your clothed center, rubbing it back and forth. "What if..." He suggests, pushing his lightsaber softly. "We found out how much you can fit?"

[gale-force-storm]

Imagine Gale being absolutely Frantic with worry when tav gets knocked out in battle. Sprinting over to them to hold them, pestering the shit out of shadowheart while she works to heal tav. Waiting next to them until they wake up, absolutely feral with worry

Aah, I do enjoy a panicked Gale. I actually see him as usually being pretty good under pressure, cool and efficient, but only when he has something to do. Helplessness and inaction do not sit well with him. Plus, you can bet he'd be kicking himself for "letting" Tav get hurt. Even if there's nothing he reasonably could have done, he'd still feel guilty for not somehow doing more.

One last thunderwave and the last three enemies are down, and he's looking around to check on everyone as he always does and- no.

"Tav!" He rushes over, dropping to his knees by their side. "No, no, no, Tav. You have to wake up, please-" His head whips around again. "Shadowheart!"

"Hold on! I'm coming!" She sprints over from the cover she'd ducked behind, similarly kneeling next to them.

"Please. We're out of potions. They need-"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snaps, hands starting to glow as she presses them to the nasty gash across Tav's side. "I can stabilize them, but that's all. We'll need to get them back to camp so Halsin can finish the rest."

"But they'll be ok?"

"Yes, if you let me focus."

Gale wishes more than anything that he could carry them back to camp himself once she finishes, but he has to settle for letting Karlach take up the task instead while he walks beside them, never taking his eyes off of Tav. Making sure their breathing is steady, that their wound doesn't reopen, looking for any signs of consciousness. He continues hovering back at camp, though Halsin is more patient about it. Gale could almost cry with relief when their eyes finally flutter open.

"Hhng... Gale?"

"Tav, thank the gods!" He'd been holding one of their hands, and the other immediately went to their cheek. "How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

"Mm... bit sore."

Halsin nods. "You'll need to rest."

"Is there anything I can do?" Gale asks, almost pleading.

"Sit with them. Make sure they drink some water and get plenty of rest tonight."

Gale, of course, takes this a bit overzealously and refuses to leave their side for the rest of the night, helping them to their tent to lay down, fusing over them to make sure they're comfortable, making sure they get plenty of water, and watching them once they fall asleep. He'd claim he's just keeping an eye on their breathing, and that's partially true, but it's more for his own piece of mind than anything.

He tries to stay awake all night, but at some point he does drift off against his best efforts, and when Tav wakes up they're greeted by him lying next to them, arms around them, holding them like he never intends to let go.

[milliesfishes]

I’m obsessed with your Billy writing omg. Can you do a hurt/comfort where reader was kidnapped by rivals or something and he absolutely loses it until Reader is safe and then is just so doting and protective afterwards?

you get kidnapped and billy comes to rescue you

billy the kid x fem reader (been waiting for an excuse to do this one, thank you love!)

For some reason, it had never occurred to you that being romantically connected to an outlaw could be dangerous. But here you were, tied up and blindfolded in an unknown location. The men who'd taken you had cornered you in an alleyway, shoving a gun against your side and telling you not to scream.

From what you could make out, it was some of a rival gang Billy had told you about. He was always extremely vague in what he told you about his work, not wanting you to worry or do something rash that you might think was helpful. But you supposed it didn't matter their identities.

You had no idea if Billy knew, if anyone knew you'd been taken. The hours were long, and you lost track of how much time passed.

You'd been taunted by the men who'd taken you, and there were scratches and bruises all over you to prove it. The longer you were there, the more you worried about what they'd do next. What was stopping them from untying you and doing the worst? How far would they go to anger Billy?

You heard shouting outside, then gunshots. They were probably doing more target practice. The sound of footsteps approaching the room you were in became evident, and your body curled in on itself the best it could, prepared for the worst.

The door creaked open, and you could hear boots on the ground. There were still gunshots outside, and you figured whoever had come in was using the noisy distraction to have his way with you.

What you were not expecting was to feel a hand on your face, calloused but soft. You knew that hand. It'd held every part of your body.

That hand tore the blindfold off you, and there he was, kneeling in front of where you'd been tossed to the ground. Billy had both hands on your cheeks now, his thumbs rubbing up and down. "Baby...baby, 're you hurt? What'd they do to ya, my girl..."

You were too exhausted and overwhelmed to respond, but he didn't bat an eye as his hands fell from your face, making quick work of untying your restraints. The second the ropes fell away he gathered you into his arms and you broke down, clinging to him. "Oh baby, oh I know..." he rubbed your back, trying to make you feel safe between his arms. "I gotcha, 'm not lettin' go."

He traced his fingers over your face, his eyes soft. You knew you were a sight right now. There was blood on your face, and your arms were bruised from where they'd pulled and grabbed at you. Billy pressed his lips to your hairline, a comforting gesture. "My girl...where do they get off, hurtin' my sweet girl?"

Billy held you for a while, and it was only until the gunshots stopped that you knew he was shielding you from whatever had been going on outside. He stood, scooping you up and nudging your head into his shoulder, cradling you close. "M gonna take you home now, yeah? We're gonna go home."

You nodded feebly, his heartbeat thumping against your body. The feeling helped calm you down, and you breathed easier as he carried you through the halls. Just before he started outside though, he hesitated, looking down. "Why dontcha close your eyes f' me honey?"

Trying to look up, your brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Just do it m'kay?" Billy's hand came to the back of your head, pressing you into his shoulder again.

You dutifully closed your eyes, burying your face in his neck as he stepped outside. The metallic smell of blood hit you, and you dug your nose into his shoulder, trying not to panic. Billy was gentle, always gentle with you. But to the rest of the world he was dangerous. He was Billy the Kid. And when he was protective, he hurt. You could only imagine the scene that surrounded you.

His footsteps were steady, and you could hear voices directed at him. You whimpered, scared that they were going to attack him.

"Shh, shh," he soothed, pressing his hand back to your hair. "You're safe baby. Nobody's gonna hurt you again."

Nodding into his chest, you tried to lift your head, but he kept his hand on your head. "Not yet, sweetheart. You stay put."

You kept your eyes shut tight as he carried you to his horse and lifted you up onto it before hoisting himself up behind you. He took the reins with one hand, his other hand resting on your tummy to keep you steady. The horse started to move forward, and you rode for awhile before he rubbed his hand over your midsection. "You can open your eyes now, honey."

The prairie you were riding across was open, the sky growing darker. You leaned back against Billy, your breaths shuddering. He sensed your discomfort, his fingers spreading out on your tummy, rubbing lightly. "Hey, remember when we had our first kiss? When we were in the woods and it was sunset?"

A tiny smile twitched your lips. He was trying to distract you, and you welcomed it. "Mhm. You brought me flowers that day."

"That's right," Billy whispered, leaning his cheek against your head. "Lilacs, right? And that was when you told me how much you love lilacs."

You smiled a little more. "And you took me for a walk down by the river."

"And then it started to rain," he said softly, pushing a kiss into your hair. "The sky was dark. And I was worried you'd get cold. But then you laughed and told me that rain meant luck." He laughed a little. "My sweet girl."

"We got soaked," you said, leaning against him. "But I love the rain."

"That you do, baby," he kissed your hair again. "That you do."

Billy could see that you were slipping back into your head, so he brought up another memory. "What about that one day I came over and you were baking a cake? And you burned yourself, but you laughed it off like it was nothing. I remember thinking that's how you live your life- the world could throw anything at ya, but you'd just laugh. Never met anyone like you baby. You're a special girl."

You smiled softly at his sweet words. "I remember how sweet you were afterwards. How you kissed it all better."

"Course I did," he murmured. "Always gonna take care of my baby."

You adjusted yourself a little on the saddle, but whimpered a bit. Some of your bruises were beginning to hurt. Billy rubbed his hand over your side, looking down at you. The horse suddenly stumbled on a patch of rough ground, causing you to jerk forward. You gasped, and Billy caught you, arms tightening around your body.

The suddenness of it caused your trembling to start up again, and Billy stopped the horse, holding you close to his chest. "Shh, shh, you're safe. You're okay, I've gotcha. I'm here, okay? I ain't goin' anywhere."

You breathed softly as Billy held you, your panic still palpable. He rocked you back and forth. "Ohhh, baby." He kissed your temple. "It's okay, it's alll okay now."

Stable in his arms, he tried to think of something else to distract you. "'Member that time we watched the sun set behind the mountain?" he murmured against your cheek. "Ya sat on my lap, wrapped in my coat 'n my arms. We watched the sky turn pink and orange and purple." He nuzzled against your head. "Never seen anything like it. But you were the prettiest thing out there." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, remembering with him. He could see you were calming down so he continued. "I wanted to stop time so we could sit there forever, and we could watch the sky change over 'n over. Ya were such an angel... it was like you were made for me to watch ya against the sky."

His sweet words helped your heart slow down, and you breathed easy. He pulled on the horse's reins, and you started to move again. "Ya brighten up my life honey. Everything is so much better cause of you. I gotta whole head o' these memories with you, and they're all special, all good."

He kept you calm all the way to his little cabin in the woods, and once you were there, he got off, lifting you into his arms. The comfort of his chest was your haven all the way inside.

Billy didn't leave you alone for a second, getting a bath ready for you and undressing you, easing you in. The hot water stung a little against your cuts, but you gritted your teeth, reaching out for him. "Billy."

"Yeah baby?" he murmured, thumb on your cheek.

"Will you...will you...come in with me?" you asked softly.

He half smiled, nodding and standing up to strip his clothes off. Billy got in behind you, wrapping one arm around your middle. The other hand rested on top of your head, thumb smoothing your hair. "Better sweet girl?"

"Uh huh," you snuggled into his chest.

Billy kissed your head, his face somber. "'M sorry baby. 'M so sorry this happened," he whispered. "I shoulda protected you better-"

"No, no Billy don't say that," you breathed, turning in his arms. "It's not your fault."

"I put you in danger sweetheart," he traced your cheekbone. "Was supposed to keep you safe."

"Don't," you rested your head on his chest. "You rescued me."

He sighed softly, looking down at you. He had his girl back in his arms, lying on his chest. And he didn't want to make things tense by fighting with you, even though he still felt guilty. "Yeah. Yeah, baby I guess I did."

You hummed contentedly; your cheek pressed against his skin. The warm bath was soothing you, the ache in your body eased.

Billy held you close to him, hardly letting go long after you got out of the bath. You spent the night swaddled in his arms, his voice whispering promises that you'd never be taken again.

[star-centric]

CW: gender neutral reader, just my messy thoughts after the latest chapter (🥲), modern AU, a little sprinkle of angst at the end

Just imagine Choso as your partner and being so deeply in love with you.

The man is absolutely whipped over you and has no shame admitting it. Yuuji and his other brothers once got him a custom shirt with your selfies and the phrases I Love My Partner and #1 Simp on it for the holidays just as a joke- Choso loved it so much that he refused to take it off for the rest of the night. No one could stop staring when you invited your family and his parents over for dinner that night, seeing him standing proud. All you could do is shake your head while his brothers cackled (Choso didn’t care though- he loved the shirt genuinely).

He’s also so touchy-feely with you too. No matter how long you’ve been together, he always has to have some form of touch with you. His PDA isn’t extreme- simply holding hands, having your pinkies locked, or a hand resting on your waist is enough. In the privacy of your own home, his palm is either resting on your thigh drawing circles into your skin or he brings you into his side. Choso cherishes every moment that he can have his hands on you, even as he goes to sleep with his arm wrapped around you. It leaves a burning sensation for him each time, shooting the same warmth into his stomach that he had when he was still admiring you from afar.

Choso is the type of partner that he’s satisfied just being in your presence alone. He’s not the super talkative type, so sometimes he likes to just observe you. Even if you’re just doing laundry, he’ll stare at you with the softest eyes imaginable. You’re just existing and it’s one of the best things to ever happen to him.

Choso loves to listen- hearing you ramble about whatever topic that’s interesting to you is pleasant to him (even if he has no clue what you’re taking about lol). The moment you start speaking you have his immediate attention. If you start to second guess about the conversation saying it’s stupid, he’s quick to reassure you that nothing you say is dumb. You could be talking about the clouds and he’s already locked in.

Choso’s the protective type- he won’t baby you buuut why don’t you let him take care of whatever you want done? Like with something simple as cooking- he’s offered to do it so much that he’s actually improving. And if you’re going out for the night drinking with your friends, Choso is already waiting to pick you up with water and ibuprofen outside. You’ll still have your independence but let him take care of you.

Choso being so in love with you that he’s willing to sacrifice himself. He wants to see you smile, to have you happy- and he will do anything and everything in his power to foresee that. The soft kisses he presses to your lips or to the crown of your head every day before he leaves portray that. He couldn’t imagine life without you anymore and vice versa.

Which is why it hurts so much to wake up without him by your side, the silver ring adorning your finger almost stinging you, but you refuse to take it off. It’s one of the last things that will remind you of the love Choso had got you.

The tears won’t stop falling as you crawl into your empty bed, a painful reminder that he’s truly gone- and won’t be coming back.

[blanketbvby]

i have an idea i think is cute/cool, feel free to ignore of course!

can i get fluff hcs or a drabble of a yandere solomon w a willing mc who trusts him blindly and trusts no one else?

Super short, I wrote this during class :(

Also super sorry this is crazy late, I've been on a tight schedule and haven't had the time to sit and think about how I'd write this so it's rushed and messy, I may come back to this and edit it to be longer in a few days

Also this is less yandere and more possessive, mainly because I don't see him as a very violent yandere, more just possessive or manipulative

yandere!Solomon x trusting!darling

Brief warning for mentions of body horror to a child (made up story by the slimy bastard /aff)

★—–-

"Mammon tried to make a pact with me. Said it was to keep me safe."

A still pause occurred.

"And did you?" The sorcerer's eyes raked over the room to your curled up form, sat on the bed with a blanket in your lap and book in your hand.

The sigil on the back of your neck burned with the masked fury of the immortal, and you gave a short despite the discomfort.

"Who do you take me for?" Silence envelopes the room once again as Solomon blinked before smiling eyes narrowing a sliver. He nods in silent approval as he stands from his chair.

A hand ghosts the back of your neck, and the magically tattooed figure on the skin soothed as his anger dissipated. He hummed and cupped it, your head bowing along to accommodate the action.

"My good, adorable apprentice." You shudder softly.

Yes, that's how it'd been for quite some time now. Sure, it was wrong. You weren't stupid. But you merely didn't care.

Chapped lips pressed into. Yours with a thumb tilting your chin, and your eyes shut as you feel the familiar warmth of a spell being cast on you. Solomon never told you what it was. That's how it always was, and how it'd always be.

When the kiss ended, the warmth faded and settled deep into your bones. You'd come to associate this particular warmth with protection.

The sorcerer was all yours, and no amount of prying or pushing from otherworldly beings such as the demons who'd kidnapped you or the angels who were too kind would ever have him slipping away from you.

He certainly wouldn't let you go without a fight, anyways.

- There is no doubt in my mind Solomon would be a casually possessive yandere. He'd thrive if you were so trusting towards him, and would get a power trip if it's only him you seem to trust

- I like to imagine he'd have taken advantage of the immediate mistrust that came with the whole "summoned into another world by stranger demons who claim this and that" to swoop you off your feet. After all, wouldn't you trust the only human around?

- the sigil on the back of your neck is like a pact I like to think, something he has to mark you as his. It burns and warms with his emotion like one, too, so if he's mad it'll get uncomfortably hot and if he's happy, it'll simmer down

- he'd definitely cast magic on you without telling you what it is, though. I picture him doing anything from tracking spells to minor love spells (as needed if needed at all) to wards to get otherworldly beings to back off

- you probably still live at the HoL officially, but you definitely spend your time with him 24/7

- after all, who knows what those rotten demons may do to you if you're not kept safe and sound? You certainly don't trust the people who kidnapped you, and Solomon feeds into that by sharing stories of all the bad things demons have done to him and others

- speaking of, he'd probably not be the kind of yandere to get his hands dirty, I imagine he'd wind up probably being a lot more manipulative and let his magic do the trick

- oh, a demon offered you something that was supposedly human safe, but you didn't take it anyways? Smart choice, has he told you of the time one of those pathetic monsters offered a child candy that melted the poor kid's insides?

- he'd be possessive, manipulative, and would definitely twist stories to keep you relying on the only human around— him

[blakeswritingimagines]

Jack Hughes 18+ thots

You thought you had heard him wrong. You looked at Jack as he stared at you waiting for your response. You knew that he loved eating you out, but you never imagined him asking you to sit on his face. His question took you by surprise so much that you were sure that you had heard him wrong. “Wha- what?” You ask as your mind seemed to not be able to comprehend if he truly said those words. “I said, sit on my face." Jack’s voice sounded so confident that you could only nod as your mouth salivated you took a quick gulp as your mind rushed with the erotic image. Your hands moved to take off his borrowed shirt, he watched intently as you removed his shirt, taking note of every curve and dip in your body before you started climbing up to his face, guiding his head towards your entrance with one hand while holding onto his hair tightly with the other. The anticipation built up inside of him as he prepared himself for this intimate act.

"Good girl." Jack’s voice dripped like honey as he pushed your legs open. He bends down to take a small sniff at your soaked folds. His eyes roll back slightly as he takes in your scent. You always smelled so good, he swears he would die between your legs. As you hesitantly complied with his request, Jack couldn't help but feel an intense mix of excitement and pride swell within him. It was clear that you were nervous about what you were doing, but your willingness to trust him and try something new made his heart swell with affection. He wanted nothing more than to make you feel comfortable and safe during this intimate moment, and he hoped that by encouraging you to take control of this encounter, it would help alleviate some of your nerves. With each second that passed, Jack grew increasingly aroused by the sight of you perched above his face, your legs spread wide open for him to explore.

As soon as you felt the warmth of Jack's breath against your pussy, you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper. You bit your lower lip, trying to hold yourself together. He wanted to make sure you enjoyed it as much as possible. You slowly lowered yourself until you felt his lips pressing against your clit. Your fingers tightened around his hair as you moaned softly, arching your hips forward into his touch. Your other hand rested on his good shoulder for support, your nails digging into his skin just slightly. You were enjoying this more than you expected, and you weren't going to hold anything back now. Jack smirked at the way you reacted to his touch, feeling a surge of pleasure at being the cause of your moans. He gently ran his tongue along your slit, savoring the taste of your arousal. As he continued to tease your clit with his tongue, he reached up with one hand to grip your ass cheek, kneading it firmly as he kept his gaze locked on you.

He then slid his free hand up to cup your breast, thumbing over your nipple teasingly as he increased the pressure on your clit with his tongue. Jack was determined to show you how much he appreciated your willingness to experiment with him, and he planned to do everything in his power to ensure you enjoyed yourself thoroughly. You gasped as you felt Jack's tongue sliding along your slit, your back arching involuntarily. You'd never been the type to enjoy oral sex, but Jack was quickly changing your mind. His skilled tongue was driving you wild, and you found yourself grinding against his face eagerly. You let out a sharp cry when you felt his thumb press against your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. You rolled your hips, pushing yourself deeper onto his face as you struggled to keep yourself from falling over. You leaned forward, resting your hands on the headboard for support. "Jack… oh god…" you murmured, your breathing heavy and ragged.

Jack groaned at the sound of your pleasured cries, feeling a sense of satisfaction at knowing he was the one responsible for your pleasure. He increased the intensity of his tongue lashing, swirling it around your clit before sucking it into his mouth. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and kneading your body and made for his hand curves, all while maintaining eye contact from under you. He could tell you were close to reaching your climax, and he didn't want to stop until you did. So, he redoubled his efforts, using both hands to stimulate your nipples while his tongue worked overtime on your clit. Jack was determined to push you over the edge, wanting to hear you scream his name as you came hard on his face. Feeling Jack's tongue swirling around your sensitive nub, combined with the sensation of his hands on your breasts, sent shivers running up and down your spine. You felt your orgasm building rapidly, and you couldn't hold back any longer. With a loud cry, you came hard, your juices gushing out onto Jack's face as you ground against his mouth, riding out the waves of pleasure. "Oh fuck! Oh god, Jack!" You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your climax. You slumped forward, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath.

Jack grinned as he felt your orgasm wash over you, your sweet release coating his face. He lapped up your juices greedily, savoring the taste of you as you rode out your climax atop his face. He continued to suck on your clit even after you had finished coming, prolonging your pleasure as long as he could until you pushed him away. When you finally began to slow down, Jack pulled away slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up at you with a satisfied smile, proud of himself for making you cum so hard. "That was fucking hot," he murmured, his voice husky with lust. Panting heavily, you lifted yourself off Jack's face, your legs trembling as you lay down on the bed. You leaned against him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed yourself against his chest. "That was… amazing," you admitted, blushing slightly as you remembered just how intense the experience had been. "I've never come that hard before…"

Jack chuckled at your admission, pleased to know that he had given you such intense pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he nuzzled his nose against your neck. "I'm glad I could do that for you," he murmured, his voice still thick with desire. He gave your ass a firm squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thought about all the ways he wanted to take you. "And we're just getting started."

[how-serene]

Anon cause I can't ask from my sideblog, I've never requested anything before but here we go, I couldn't decide so here's a few to choose from, I hope any of these inspire you~

'If you won't take care of yourself, then who will?' - Abner or Bob, dealer's choice

'How is it you're never scared?' - Johnson, I adore the way you write him~

'Don't we deserve to be happy?' - dealer's choice :3c

'Don't you know what you mean to me?' - this one is a longshot but Simon Lynch if you've ever seen his episode

Choice

Pairing - Johnson (Reprisal) x Neutral!Reader

Summary - You ask Johnson a question that's been weighing on you for a while now.

Word Count - 715

Warnings - slightest bit of angst

A/N - Sorry for the lame ass title. I decided to go with Johnson's prompt as I've been feeling very inspired by him lately. Thank you!

July’s summer air was muggy, the humidity sticking to the crevices of your skin. Crickets, and the other sounds of insects surrounded you. The car headlights split between the overwhelming darkness of the field, illuminating on you and Johnson. His arm supported the back of your head, as you snuggled into his side. The worn quilt beneath you two acted as a barrier from the harsh dried patches of grass. 

Up above, a cluster of stars against a black sheet twinkled down at you. Music poured from the portable radio propped up on the hood of the car, the singer unknown to your ears. Yet it was soft and lovely, their voice tugging at the loose threads of your heart. 

Johnson sighed, shifting his body closer to yours. Your hand rested flat against his chest, toying with one of the many sleek black buttons on his shirt. He was speaking about Matty, and Ethan. Something had gone wrong, a run-in that ended poorly (for the others). 

“How is it you’re never scared?” You asked, voice quiet against the night. 

He briefly glanced down at you, sensing the worry in your tone. “What do you mean, darlin?” 

You sighed, moving to sit up and properly face him. His hands tried coaxing you back into his side, your sudden absence leaving a cold gap of space. 

“You’ve been a Phoenix since I met you, Johnson.” You explained, crossing your legs. “And probably longer than that. You talk about things going wrong, run-ins and fights, like it's another Tuesday.” His eyes (as dark as the sky above you) watched, puzzled by your words. 

“God, I imagine it’s probably terrifying sometimes.” You said, staring down at your lap. The question had sat on your tongue for weeks, almost too heavy to hold. It felt almost silly to fret over Johnson’s well-being like this. He alway assured you things were fine, and you expected to hear those same words now. 

Only you didn’t.

“I’ve been a Phoenix for years now.” He confessed, mulling over your question. “Everything about that life sort of becomes second nature to you.” A thought crossed his eyes, quickly diminished as he sucked a breath of air through his teeth. You could see the chips in his stone-faced facade, wanting to come undone around you. 

“I guess to an outsider, it is pretty terrifying.” Johnson continued, eyes looking up at the sky.

“So, it never scares you, at all?” You asked again, knee brushing against his hip. He exhaled, craning his neck to look up at you. His hand found your thigh, where he subconsciously ran his thumb over the jean material. 

“Sometimes.” He whispered, as if it were a secret. 

You felt your heart splinter, as the shimmering of the stars got caught in his pupils. The ballad of some song filtering through the radio filled the gap of silence. About some singer detailing the woes of life, and the hardships he had to overcome. The sharp chirpings of the crickets cut through the music though, nearly deafening. 

Without another word, you crawled back into his arms, where they warmly engulfed you. He nuzzled the side of your face, a kiss (as faint as the wind) left upon your temple. His hands greedily welcomed you, pressing you into his side as if trying to mold your figure into his. 

“I chose this life of a Phoenix.” He said, lifting your hand to pepper kisses across the knuckle. “It’s the only life I got, and it’s alright for what it is.” 

You nodded, as if you understood. Perhaps a small part of you did, somewhere. We’re told we never get to choose our families. But you did, slowly along the way. Sure, people filtered in and out of your life, as they do. But it was beautiful to have a choice altogether, on who you can love. You wondered where you stood though, in-between the family of Phoenix’s and Johnson. If maybe, you held some significance somewhere in-between those two lives. The possibility of there being no gravity to your presences in Johnson’s life sat like a bowling ball in your stomach. 

You searched the sky for an answer, but the stars only winked, providing none. 

Was the choice of love still beautiful if it hurt? 

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Accusing me of stealing ideas when you’re out here literally writing carbon copy versions of established popular fics.

The audacity.

Check your hypocrisy and grow the fuck up.

[lloydfrontera]

touch starved lloyd who will lean into any gentle touch he gets without thinking about it, who never initiates anything but is also never the first to pull away, who sometimes flinches at unexpected contact but will gravitate closer to those he trusts so he's always withing arm's reach

[dangaer]

listening to posthumous forgiveness after ages of not playing shins playlist really reminds me of just how complicated shin’s relationship with his own father is.  

both him and his mother were strongly isolated by the town because people assumed that either shin would grow up the same way his father was or simply that his mother had been the one to instigate / create such a happening. a lot of their old friends left them, the neighbourhood kids picked on shin and his mother found it difficult to keep any form of social life. the only people who actually decided to keep by their side being both heroine and toma’s families ( though shin’s mother had guessed that more to be out of their childrens friendship for shin out of anything else, but kept such thoughts to herself ). such a situation had damaged his parents relationship to the point where his mother ended up divorcing him, and shin the majority of his childhood angry and upset towards his own father for creating such a situation, where he became cold and viewed as a monster for something he’d definitely never make himself do, and to see his mothers once happy expression become strained and ultimately haggard. 

despite this, it would be a lie to say he hates him. not to the standard he’d like people to, and definitely not in the way his mother had felt following such a situation. all of the memories shin holds of his father before the incident show him to be your average kind and loving man, who truly encouraged and wanted shin to do well as his own person. so much so, that despite the rage he felt, as shin grew up ... came to terms with attempting to understand the law, his friendships and those around him, it became clear that part of him still held a bleeding heart towards his father. so much so, from age 15, he ended up taking bi-monthly visits to his old man in prison. and while there was a lot of rage, negative and angry feelings, part of shin has come to terms with the situation, and began to try and create a sense of forgiveness towards the events that have happened.