#reposting my old fics

[kitsxne-reboot]

“Oh no, I've finished all my ice cream, what will I ever do ?!”

Featuring ー Osamu Dazai, Ranpo Edogawa, Chuuya Nakahara

Synopsis ー Getting ice cream with your dear boyfriend !

Warnings ー None! <3

OSAMU DAZAI

🩹 I swear to God, if you get a lot of ice cream, expect even more bandages and canned crab

🩹 He might also slip some dog food in there…

🩹 “Why're you getting dog food Osamu ? We don't have a dog, plus you hate dogs.” “Well there was this one time I had to eat dog food and it tasted r-”

🩹 Honestly, the whole trip is pure chaos and you're regretting the fact that you had begged Dazai to come with you

🩹 Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, is giving you two looks, from the piled up ice creams, bandages, canned crab, and one pack of dog food. And even worse, you guys had a small cart

🩹 You definitely aren't gonna invite him ever again.

RANPO EDOGAWA

🍭 Honestly, don't expect just only ice cream in the cart, but instead expect a LOT LOT ice cream and candies, like literally nothing else is in there but just ice cream and candy.

🍭 All the kids in the store are jealous of you guys

🍭 If you tell Ranpo to not get any more candy, well…

🍭 He'll sneak some in. Especially if it's candy he hasn't tried yet

🍭 You best be praying for the total price, because the cart is filled to the BRIM with ice cream 'n' candy.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA

🎩 Oh ? You want ice cream ? Well don't worry bbg because Chuuya already told some underlings to buy as much ice cream as you want .

🎩 Okok actually though, he's definitely more calmer than the two, and only buys other things that are necessary.

🎩 That, or he would go to the jewelry place to find a watch or something

🎩 Man is RICH RICH so if he does do that, expect him to come out with some expensive ass watches for the both of you

🎩 If the cashier asks you if you're buying ice cream for your little brother (Read: the cashier thought Chuuya was your little brother) he will try his best not to use his ability right then and there

🎩 Other than that, he's okay to get ice cream with, would recommend if you want a quick trip, unlike Ranpo and Dazai

[owlyjules]

Be sure to always download those fics that stick with you. There are several sites to save fics from sites like FFN, and AO3 has a built-in downloader with multiple formats to choose from. Fanfics get deleted often so always, always make sure to keep your favorites somewhere as a backup.

Thank you for the reminder anon!:D

I already did for those few fics that means a lot to me. Thankfully too since sadly in one case the author left and took all of their work with them. Right now I dont read a lot of new fics but I always get back up of my wifes favourites as well! You never know!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Could you do Accidental sworn brothers NHS, JC, WWX?

ao3

“So,” Jiang Cheng said.

It was a very ominous sort of ‘so’.

“Hi, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said. “Have you eaten? I trust you been well. I’ve been all right, myself. Things are pretty quiet. The weather’s been pretty nice, though I don’t think it’s ever as nice in Qinghe as it is in Yunmeng. Has it been raining much?”

Jiang Cheng was giving him a death glare.

“…lots of rain, huh?”

“I don’t care about the vast majority of what you did to get revenge on Jin Guangyao,” Jiang Cheng said flatly. “But you put Jin Ling in danger.”

“Not…much danger.” At Jiang Cheng’s incredulous look, Nie Huaisang shrugged. “He kept him alive this long, didn’t he? I figured Jin Ling was pretty safe, as these things went. It was only at the very last moment that he actually threatened him directly – and Jin Ling wasn’t even supposed to be there.”

Judging from Jiang Cheng’s expression, he wasn’t buying Nie Huaisang’s argument.

“All right, fine,” Nie Huaisang said. “Still, you came to visit me, which means that you’re not just here to yell and tell me that our friendship is over, you could do that by letter. You want something from me?”

Jiang Cheng struggled for a moment, then grimaced. “Yeah, I want something.”

He was so predictable sometimes.

“Tell me what you need me to do to get your friendship back, and I’ll do it.” Nie Huaisang thought about it for a moment. “Within reason.”

“I want you to help me fix my relationship with Wei Wuxian.”

“…I said within reason, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said, horrified. “Do you want me to bring the moon down and give it to you while I’m at it?”

“It’s not that bad!” Jiang Cheng protested, except, no, really, it was exactly that bad. Years and years of deception and betrayal and bad feelings on both sides, an incredibly knotty tangle of emotions with no one completely right and no one completely wrong and debts and anger and – it was bad, okay? “Anyway, you managed to fix Jin Guangyao, didn’t you, even though he was Chief Cultivator and you had basically no evidence? Fix this, too.”

“It’s in no way comparable!”

“Listen, you said you wanted to know what you needed to do to get us to be all right with each other again, right? This is it. Do it.”

Nie Huaisang opened his mouth in protest.

“I won’t accept anything else,” Jiang Cheng said, and crossed his arms in a way that suggested finality. “You’re the mastermind, aren’t you? So mastermind!”

-

Nie Huaisang really didn’t want to lose Jiang Cheng’s friendship, now that he knew there was a possibility of keeping it, but he also had no idea how to even start going about fixing the unfixable. He flattered himself to think that he knew Jiang Cheng pretty well after all these years, but based on everything that had happened, he didn’t understand Wei Wuxian well enough to know where to start.

Clearly, he needed help. No, more than help – he needed expertise.

Currently, Nie Huaisang was sitting in one of the rooms in the Cloud Recesses the Lan sect used to host guests waiting to see the sect leader on business. Of course, with Lan Xichen in seclusion at the moment, the actual person taking petitions was the person Nie Huaisang come to see: Lan Wangji.

He didn’t expect to be seen to quickly, the way he might have when he’d been on familiar terms with Lan Xichen – he was a Great Sect leader, yes, and an allied one, and so ought to be accorded first priority, but Lan Wangji was also a petty little brat sometimes. Lan Qiren had come by in an unofficial capacity, looking long-suffering, and they’d had an unexpectedly enjoyable conversation on the subject of the rules relating to filial piety and revenge, which Nie Huaisang interpreted as possibly the first time Lan Qiren had ever voluntarily given him a good grade on anything.

(He was weirdly moved by it, but mostly still traumatized. He’d hated school.)

After the old teacher left, Nie Huaisang sat around waiting and drinking tea, amusing himself by thinking of all the ways this forthcoming conversation could go wrong, and just when he’d gotten to the end of the fourth scenario, Wei Wuxian himself came strolling in.

“Oh, hi, Wei-xiong!” Nie Huaisang said brightly, not allowing considerations like shame to apply. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” Wei Wuxian said. “And you?”

“Well, I’m –”

“It works out quite well that you’re here, actually,” Wei Wuxian said, barreling onwards without waiting for the answer. “There was something I was hoping you might help me with.”

Nie Huaisang hid his face behind a fan. “Who, me…? I mean, I’m always glad to help, if it’s within my power – and, I mean, I’m glad you asked! And here I was worried that Wei-xiong didn’t like me anymore.”

Wei Wuxian waved a dismissive hand and sat down.

“I’m sure it’s something you can help with,” he said, smiling in a way Nie Huaisang didn’t like. “After all, you led the entire cultivation world around by the nose to catch Jin Guangyao, didn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“Well, I would. This should be no problem in comparison!”

Which meant, of course, that it was going to be a problem, because anything was easy in comparison.

“Oh, Wei-xiong, I really don’t know…”

“Don’t give me that! At least listen to it, okay?”

Nie Huaisang was always willing to listen. He nodded.

“I need you to use your mastermind skills to help me fix my relationship with Jiang Cheng.”

Nie Huaisang blinked once, long and slow. “With…Jiang Cheng?”

“That’s right!”

“But…why me…”

“Everything is just a complete mess between us,” Wei Wuxian said plainly. “It’s probably mostly my fault, and I’ve probably wronged him in ways I don’t even remember, but – I’d like to fix it. I’ve tried to fix it. I even tried leaving it alone to see if that would help, and it definitely didn’t. Everything I’ve done only makes it worse! So I need someone else to manage it.”

“And you picked…me?”

“Don’t put yourself down, Nie-xiong. You’ll manage!”

“I haven’t even agreed yet!”

“You need something from Lan Zhan, don’t you?” Wei Wuxian said, grinning at him. “You’ll agree.”

“Of course I’ll agree,” Nie Huaisang said with a huff, tossing his head. “You’re a dear friend, Wei-xiong! Why wouldn’t I agree?”

Anyway, he had to do the work for Jiang Cheng anyway. Might as well score some points flattering Wei Wuxian while he was at it.

“You’re so kind,” Wei Wuxian said, rolling his eyes at him. “Thanks, Nie-xiong. I look forward to hearing what our next move is. Have fun having tea with Lan Zhan!”

-

“You did this to yourself,” Lan Wangji said solemnly.

“I know,” Nie Huaisang said. He was lying on the floor, arms and legs splayed to the sides as he stared up at the roof in an effort to express the depths of his desolation. “I’m well aware.”

“Mm.”

“I’m having a crisis over it, even.”

“Mm. Could you have the crisis elsewhere?”

“Don’t be mean, Lan Zhan. Of course not. I need your help!”

“Denied,” Lan Wangji said, as if Nie Huaisang really were just one of the random petitioners he had to deal with these days.

“If you don’t help me, I’ll fix up their relationship so good that you’ll have to deal with Jiang Cheng all the time,” Nie Huaisang said threateningly, and noted with amusement the way Lan Wangji’s brow twitched at the thought of having to share either space, time, or Wei Wuxian with Jiang Cheng. “Listen, no matter what the others think, I’m not really a schemer or a mastermind! I just ran with the course of events and tried to change them when they looked like they weren’t going my way, that’s all.”

“I wish you luck,” Lan Wangji said, immoveable as an iceberg.

“If I try to solve this, I’m only going to make it worse,” Nie Huaisang said. “That’s not even a threat. It’s just a fact.”

“I look forward to seeing the end results,” Lan Wangji said.

Cruel, indifferent man.

“I don’t even have a good model on how to solve this,” Nie Huaisang complained. “I mean, I don’t think I know of any relationships that splintered and then were actually repaired? The only thing that comes even close is what er-ge was up to with da-ge and san-ge all that time ago, when he was trying to get them to like each other again – of course, san-ge ruined that by committing murder, but I think we can probably avoid that here! I mean, I think we can. And it’s not workable, anyway, because…”

He frowned. Nothing was coming to mind.

Nothing at all.

Well then.

“Actually…”

Lan Wangji actually put down his brush. He looked mildly alarmed. “Nie Huaisang,” he said. “What are you thinking of doing?”

“Nothing, nothing…nothing at all…”

-

“How did this happen?” Jiang Cheng wondered.

“No idea,” Wei Wuxian said. “But at least we’re friends again, right?”

“Not just friends,” Jiang Cheng said. “Isn’t that right, da-ge?”

Wei Wuxian puffed himself up like a peacock. “You bet, er-di!”

“The sacrifices I make for my friends amaze even me,” Nie Huaisang said to a stunned-looking Lan Wangji. “I’m really all heart, aren’t I?”

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said solemnly. “I am going to kill you.”

Nie Huaisang cackled. “No, you’re not,” he said cheerfully. “Or else my da-ge and er-ge might have something to say about how you’re treating their san-di…and I, at least, promise not to kill either of them!”

[seventhdoctor]

Thinking about them again

[fregisabunnyboo]

💜𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭💜

Yo, so uh, this has some kinky shiz in it, beware

——————✧◦♡◦✧——————

type: ✮just for funzies✮ genre: ✮smut✮ fandom: ✮ROTTMNT✮ character(s): ✮Runa O’Crest, Donatello Hamato, Raphael Hamto, Lenardo Hamato, Michangelo Hamato, April O’Neil✮ crossovers?: ✮none✮ tags: none! Just for fun!

TW// !!this is smut if you are comfortable with this, please leave!!

Summary: Donatello leaves during family movie night to take care of some “personal issues,” and gets busted.

——————✧◦♡◦✧——————

They had been planning this for weeks, literal weeks. The Jupiter Jim Movie marathon was about to begin. And Donatello was dreading it.

“Why so glum, hombre?” Leo said, wrapping an arm around his brother’s neck, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Donnie scowled at the talking with food in his mouth, “I’m not ‘glum,’ I’m simply tired.” He tried to play cool, knowing if he slipped up, this could be the end of him. 

“Don, you say that every time we have a family thing,” Leo frowned, pulling away. “Do you just not want to spend time with your family?”

Donnie quickly retracted his words, “No! No! It’s just-... Never mind. I’ll go help Mikey with the soda.” Donnie resisted the urge to spill everything right there onto Leo’s face, but he didn’t. He knew he could trust Leo, but Donnie also knew, no, he couldn’t trust Leo.

“Michael, I'm here to help.” Donnie announced, walking into the kitchen.

“Great! Could you hand me the thingy?” Mikey gestured to the soda flavoring on the counter. Donnie handed it to him and rested on the counter, his shell leaning on the rounded edge of the island.

Donnie was caught up in thought.

It’s about time he admitted something; he really liked Runa. A lot more than just a friend. A lot more than a girlfriend. He didn’t know what it was, but he absolutely loved every aspect of her. Runa’s hair, her eyes, the way she could get so heated over a video game. 

He smiled at the memory of Runa throwing down the controller and yelling, demanding a rematch and accusing Donnie of cheating.

He’d felt this way before, but never like this. His heart was constantly being torn every witch way and he hated it so much! Runa was not easy on his feelings, she always flirted with him and made him think she felt the same. Then, she’d turn around and express interest in other people. To say he was jealous was an understatement.

“Donnie?”

Donnie was great, but he couldn’t deny she deserved better than him. I mean, he’s getting jealous and they aren’t even dating!

“Donnie?”

What was he supposed to do? Admit his feelings and live forever in the friend-zone? Or keep a secret and carry this hate to everyone she dated?

“EARTH TO DONNIE, THE GIRLS ARE HERE.” Mikey cupped his hands and shouted into his ear.

“AH!” Donnie said, covering the side of his head where Mikey had shouted, “Okay, okay. I’ll grab the popcorn seasoning. Tell them I say ‘hi’ or whatever.”

Mikey looked at him, he’s been acting weird and now he wouldn’t even look at April or Runa? Orange frowned and swallowed the urge to ask about it, knowing he’ll never get an answer.

“Okay, I’ll be…sure to tell them.” Mikey said, debating on saying more.

By then, Donnie had already disappeared into the pantry. The girls walked into the Lair, holding extra pillows and blankets to make a fort.

“Hey, y’all!” April shouted happily behind the mountain of pillows, walking into the Lair. “We brought extra!”

Runa was holding the blankets, all neatly folded and stacked. She carried them in one hand, blanching them perfectly.

“And Runa brought the blankets for the walls of the fort,” April pointed out as they both walked over to the couch and started constructing the fort.

Raph started to help build the fort, making sure it was sturdy on each side. Leo helped set up the inside, making sure it was comfortable and big enough for everyone.

---💖---

After the movie got started, everyone got comfortable in their respective spots; April and Leo, accompanied by Mikey, under the tent, Raph sitting on the floor crisscrossed, with Runa and Donnie sitting on the couch a few feet apart.

He stole a few glaces to Runa, making him look back at his popcorn in shame.

Everything was going well, popcorn was warm, drinks were cool, jokes being made. So what was this uneasy feeling pulling at him? It just felt like everything was bothering him. It wasn’t a bad bother, just a uncomfortable one.

Donnie needed to leave, “I’m-I’m gonna go guys.” He chocked out hesitantly, smiling nervously.

“Alright, see ya,” was the general response. Except for Runa, “Where’re you going, Donnie?”

“Ah- You know, I just need a little break.” He lied.

“Oh, okay. See you in a few then.” Runa said, setting down her popcorn.

“SHUUUUSHHHH.” Leo said obnoxiously. Donnie rolled his eyes.

The purple turtle krept down the hallway and into his bed room, making sure to shut the door behind him. He went over the the small bed-side table and pulled out one of the drawers. He scooted some clothes to the side to reveal underwear.

Woman’s underwear.

He pulled them up by the lace hem and looked at them with a tired and slightly uneasy face. Donnie started to get undressed, taking off his large shirt first, then his pants.

Now he knew what the uncomfortable was. His dick, making a ruckus. The organ stood up tall, ready to be pleased. Sometimes, it had a mind of it’s own. Now, Donnie could feel the dusting of blush around his cheeks and nose, making a line across his features.

He pulled the undergarments to his snout, sniffing them. His thing twitched, awaiting the soon forceful hand that would stroke it to completion.

Donnie hated having to please himself like this. He knew it was wrong, gross, kinky and downright perverted; but he didn’t care anymore. It tasted so good.

Ever since he got a hold of her underwear, it’s been the only thing that could calm him down.

Runa had been the core problem, and now he was dealing with the after affects.

Why couldn’t she have just stayed all prissy? Why couldn’t they just go back to hating each other? Why’d she have to make him fantasize about her like this?

Almost all of the scent from the undies where gone, he could only really smell his breath. Donnie started to suckle on them after the pure stench alone stopped doing it for him. Damn, she tasted good.

Only to be actually tasting her, his tongue lapping up all the juices that flowed out of her, like water on a hot day. To hear her pant, and moan his name. To imagine her tied up and oh, so helpless.

To feel her tight pussy over his cock, creaming because she couldn’t handle him. To hear her scream to slow down.

The hand around his dick tightened, trying to get him to his climax as quickly as possible.

The things he wanted to do to her. Of course, he would never hurt her! Just tie her up and make her beg for him.

Donnie hadn’t even noticed himself growing louder, his once quite huffs now grew to loud groans as he flung his head back in pleasure, the image of Runa’s face flashed in his mind. He was so close! Damn, why did he have be able to go so long?

---💖---

“What’s taking Donnie so long?” Runa whispered out loud to herself.

“If you wanna see him so bad, just go check up on him.” Leo said with a sarcastic flaunt in his voice.

“Fine,” Runa huffed, getting up, “I will!”

Runa crept carefully down the halls, making it to Donnie’s room; soft moans and breathy groans were emanating from his room, bouncing off the walls and into her ears.

Runa blushed at the naughty thought that entered her head, shaking away the idea, she approached the door.

He’s probably working out, she thought, her face still red with embarrassment. She knocked on the door lightly, opening it slightly to peak in.

“Donnie?” She asked, opening the door slowly, only giving Donnie enough time to attempt to cover himself, underwear still on snout and a bewildered look on his face.

“What are you-...Oh, oh my...” was the only shocked expression Runa could muster out, gazing at his redden face, his exposed and twitching member, and her underwear and his snout!

“It-It’s not what it looks like!” He said quickly, trying to push his peaking dick back down, only to make it jump back up.

Runa could only stare at it, his thighs, covered in sweat and pre-cum. Her eyes made their way back up to his face.

“Then, what is it?” She asked, her personality snapping back into action.

Donnie was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? “Oh, yeah, I’ve actually been getting off to your underwear for the past few months”?

“I-.. Uh-...” He looked down at the floor, too embarrassed to say anything.

“Are those mine?” She hissed, surprisingly no disgust in her voice.

“Uh...” Donnie couldn’t lie, “Y-Yes...”

“And where you... eating them?”

“No, I was, uh, sucking on them...” That answer wasn’t any better.

“Give them back, I-I don’t want to give you access to these anymore.” Runa held out her hand expectantly, looking away. She stole glaces at Donnie as he slowly pulled himself away from the edge of his bed, taking the underwear out of his mouth and placed it in her hand.

The swift movement made only more awkward as their hands touch, making Donnie wince and Runa’s face heat more.

Donnie didn’t know if he should sit back down and continue or just stand there until she left.

“Runa...” Donnie started, holding his arm and looking down shamefully, “I-I don’t know what came over me. I just-... I didn’t mean to go that far.”

“What? Is that how you apologize for using my underwear as a cum rag?” Runa fumed, keeping it quite.

“Yes?” Donnie smiled nervously, “And I wasn’t using it as a cum rag, that’s disgraceful to someone so beautiful.”

The words struck her, a pang in her heart, the thought to do something impulsive. It all came too fast. Beautiful? Was he joking?

After a moment of processing, and reflecting, she finally opened her mouth.

“Are you serious?” She asked, genuinely intrigued now, “You think I’m beautiful?”

“M-More then beautiful,” Donnie hesitated, “I don’t know how to describe you, you’re so amazing.”

Runa blushed, out of all the times he choose to flirt...

Then, Runa got an idea. 

She stuffed the wet underwear into her back pocket and slowly started to descend to her knees, resting on them in front of Donnie.

“What are you doing?” He said quickly, following her with his eyes.

“Giving you want you want,” She purred, “May I?”

Donnie’s eyes widened before vigorously nodding, “Mhmm! Go ahead!”

“Don’t act so excited for me.” She smirked.

Donnie’s slightly annoyed expression came back to his features, “Just suck it.”

Runa hummed as she slid her hands to Donnie’s thighs, placing them firmly on his sides and squeezing, making his dick throb.

Runa licked the top of her mouth, trying to get the most saliva on her tongue as she could. She opened her mouth wide, letting Donnie see all the goodness he was about to feel. 

She slowly slide her mouth over the thick member, feeling every bit of it with her tongue. It was smooth and hot, being more thick on the tip then the base. The deep purple melded perfectly with the pastel pink of her tongue, making Donnie groan slightly.

Donnie looked at her at with the most fucked-up face she’d ever seen, he looked totally wasted. He was panting, beads of sweat forming on his face. Runa was getting him riled up, and she knew it. Runa started to moan, making Donnie wince and heave. 

Then, without warning, Donnie grabbed the back of Runa’s head and shoved it forward, making her gag. After she adjusted, he started continue to shove her face into his dick, making muffled moans. The slopping of the two organs together sounded like music to Donnie’s ears.

After a few minutes of face-fucking, he felt close, “Mmm, just a few more.. A-And I’ll be good, baby.” He panted.

Runa looked up, face full of saliva and pre-cum, “Mmm,” she said, Donnie’s hard cock still in her mouth. Suddenly, she took him all back in, sucking hard then dragging her teeth along the length of his cock.

Donnie didn’t even care about volume anymore; he moaned out loudly as he came, letting it get caught in her mouth as she swallowed some, letting the rest paint her face in a wondrous white.

Donnie bent down, grabbing the side of her mouth and spreading it open to see his seed sitting in her mouth. He moved his thumb from her mouth to her check, giving her a heated kiss, pulling away and leaving a string of cum and spit.

Runa laughed, her eyelids felt heavy and she felt tipsy, but still fully sober. She didn’t know how to describe it, but it was so intoxicating.

“Hmm,” Donnie hummed, sitting on the side of his bed, “I still seem to be aroused, despite cumming, heh, quite a lot.”

“Mmm, maybe you need more then just oral,” Runa smiled lazily, picking herself up and started to strip of her sweat pants. Donnie stared as she removed the pants. He could feel himself starting to get hard again.

As soon as she started to waddle over, Donnie felt his heart explode. He couldn’t take it, this was it, he finally getting what he wanted. Once she started to get comfortable sitting on his lap, and started rubbing his thighs, he stopped her.

“Runa,” He breathed, “Once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop, dear. I don’t want to hurt you. Soft shell turtles are naturally... more aggressive.”

Runa licked her lips, “Good, this’ll be more fun.”

Runa positioned herself on Donnie’s lap, grinding on his exposed dick with her covered pussy, making Donnie’s face go to that of uncomfortable. He grabbed Runa by the hips and flipped her over, now standing between her open legs.

Donnie looked at helpless she’d become. He chuckled deviously, “I’m gonna make you regret asking me to be rough.”

Runa saw the animistic lust in his eyes, knowing there’s no humanity left. Her face burst into flames, her tail flicking back and forth. She bit her lips as Donnie put a hand on her back and guided her up softly, making her sit on the edge of the bed. 

Donnie went and grabbed his battle shell, smirking, he looked back at her in her underwear and shirt. He pulled out what seemed to be a video recorder, and some kind of rope?

Runa’s stomach got heavy butterflies.

He set up the camera and stood behind it, pointing it at Runa.

“Okay, strip.” He commanded, licking his teeth behind the camera.

“Wha-?” Runa blushed, you could probably see all her freckles inder the thin layer or fur on her face.

“You heard me,” He huffed, slightly upset at the repetitive command, “Strip.”

She started to slowly take of her shirt, making sure get his attention with a sway of her hips. After the shirt was off, she reached for her bra, giggling her breasts. She moaned his name slightly, trying to keep herself quite in case he didn’t want her to say anything.

“Say it again.” He demanded.

Runa started to play with her breasts now, moaning his name with every touch. Donnie looked down at his dick, now wet with pre-cum again. He huffed and commanded her to get on all fours.

“Now take them off.”

Runa slowly slid down her panties, purple and laced, teasing. After they were off, she waved her hips back and forth, moaning. Donnie stopped the camera and grabbed the rope. It was a soft velvet, so it wouldn’t hurt her.

Donnie helped Runa back up, taking the time to admire her dripping pussy. He flipped her over onto some pillows, making sure she was comfortable before tying her up with the velvet rope.

Runa laughed a bit, “Damn, you really know what you want, darling.”

“Yeah, I want you begging for my cock.” He said smugly, stroking his member, getting the pre-cum under his tip and around the largest areas, making it slick. Runa squirmed at the sight, making her eyes well up with tears as she pleaded with Donnie.

“Please, Don,” She begged, “If you’re going to fuck me, ju-just do it already! I can’t watch you, please, I need you inside me, ah~!”

“Hush now, dear.” He quieted her with a small handkerchief, embroidered with his initials, “You have to watch first, make sure you can take all of me.”

“Donnie, ugh!” Runa struggled against the velvet, “I’m a rabbit! I’m built to be bread!” She cried.

Donnie chuckled, stroking his dick again, “If you say so, but if I rip your uterus in half, just say I warned you.”

“Ah~! Don’t say things like that!” Runa’s face got more red, he cupped it, now leaning over her and positioning himself near her entrance. He leaned down and kiss her, whispering a sweet “Are you ready, love?”

Runa nodded her head as he started to enter his tip into her, making her moan and wiggle.

“Stay still, and it won’t be so painful,” He warned.

Runa sat still and let him enter her more, almost immediately adjusting to his huge cock, that was almost double the original size. She moaned as he started to go all the way in, her pussy sucking him in, encouraging him to go deeper.

The words echoed in Donnie’s head, “built to be bread?” Tch, we’ll see.

Donnie got comfortable once more at started at a slow pace making her moan with every slap of skin. The way her thighs and tits bounced with every strong thrust made him groan. He watched her arms struggle to try and get free of the velvet, groping at the rope, trying to grab and scratch at something.

Donnie grabbed he thighs, pulling out to kiss and bite them, talking into them. “Mmm, who’s my beautiful princess?”

“I-I am, Donnie.” She huffed out, her face scrunching up and her eyes closed.

“Good girl,” He stopped kissing her legs and pondered the name, “Hmm, plane old Donnie doesn’t sound good enough. Call me ‘Daddy’, m’kay, love?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.” Runa stuttered out.

“Good.” Donnie lined himself back up with her hole, taking it slow once again.

“Da-Daddy, please, rail me.” Runa begged.

“If you insist, princess.” Donnie started to go faster, the skin slapping together made the sounds of the moaning die down.

Donnie started going even faster, making Runa moan, almost scream, before Donnie put the handkerchief back in her mouth to muffle the noise as he continued to rail her. He gripped his sheets, instinctively biting Runa’s neck, pinning her down.

Donnie just let his instincts run wild in that moment, scratching at the sheets, biting and humping the life out of Runa. After the felt himself getting close, he finally released his teeth from Runa’s soft skin and pulled out, seeing Runa had already came at least 4 times.

Donnie smirked as he saw her cream pour out of her, he took out the handkerchief and looked at her lovingly. 

“Where do you want it, Love?” He asked, stroking her cheek.

Runa groaned, “I-In me, Daddy! Please, cum in me, ah~!”

Donnie looked away, nervously. He wanted so bad to just cum inside her and clam her as his own. Watch his seed flow out of her with a beautiful white stream.

But at the same time, he didn’t want to be responsible for getting her pregnant. He wasn’t ready to be a father.

“Darling,” He said calmly, “Are you on the pill?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Runa answered, still clearly drunk on love, “Just, put your dick in me already! Fill me up with your seed, mm~.”

“If you insist, Princess.” Donnie started to rail her again, making sure to hit her spot, making her wiggle.

After she screamed as he came inside her, he pulled out, now fully able to relax. He untied Runa as she rubbed her writs and panted. He watched his juices flow out of her, he felt like he had done a good job. A sense of affection and pride welled in him.

Donnie gazed at her, pulling her by her waist into him, kissing her forehead. He hugged her close to him and laid down, with Runa laying on his chest. Donnie started stroking her hair and rubbing her ears, humming a soft song.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Donnie asked.

“More then enjoyed, God, you’re so good.” Runa said happily, making a kiss noise at the tip of his nose.

“Thank you, baby.” Donnie smiled, catching his breath, “Does thins mean we’re dating now?”

“No, I think we’re married now.” Runa said.

Donnie laughed, oh, she was serious. “Well, I couldn’t imagine anyone else to be my wife.”

“Really?” Runa looked at him with earnest, “You really mean it?”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Donnie smiled, “You’re the cutest badass this planet has ever seen.”

“Mmm, you make me so happy, Donnie.” Runa yawned.

“I’m glad, darling.”

---BONUS---

“Hey, Leo,” April nudged Leo, making him look over at her with a disgusted look for interrupting his hyper-fixation.

“What?” Leo snarled.

“Did you ever find out what that noise was?” April asked.

Leo’s face went red, “Well, lets just say Donnie was doing some stuff. And that stuff is Runa,” Leo snarked.

The rest of the family looked at each other uncomfortably.

“Turn up the volume, Mike,” Raph said, looking visibly uncomfortable.

They didn’t bother getting Runa or Donnie for breakfast the next morning.

[beesinspades]

if i'm late to post the next chapter of my canon divergence fic in which wolfwood finds eriks stuck in his creechur form, this is why :3

[gauloiseblue]

I'm hungry for something else

Warning: mature content

If you could describe the man next to you, you'd say messy, chaotic, careless, and angelic. His tousled golden hair sprawled everywhere on the pillow, and the soft white bedcover of your bed failed to hide his bare torso. But even so, he's like the sleeping God in a Renaissance painting. 

A soft air of amusement escapes from your nose as you gently push his unraveled curls aside, and his brows furrow at the sudden touch. You pressed your lips on his forehead, before you carefully climbed out of the bed. He stirred in his sleep, but his eyes were still closed.  

When you turned your head towards the bed, you were once again greeted by the mess, yet also the perfect view of him. Some of the pillows fell from the mattress, and the tie he used before is peeking from the seams of the blanket. The paleness of the bed sheet contrasts with his rich skin tone, while his golden hair compliments the achromatic style of the room. You admire him for a moment, before you turn away from him. Your body feels sticky, and you need a good shower. 

You quickly snatched up the water bottle from the nightstand as you made your way to the bathroom. The double wide mirror reflects the whole room and your figure when you went inside, and your eyes widened when you saw the numerous marks on your neck. You frowned when you realized that you can't wear the halter dress for tonight. With a sigh, you began to make your way to the shower. 

The natural stone under your feet feels cold as you step into the small room, and you immediately turn the faucet. The water feels pleasantly warm against your skin, and the glass starts to fog as the temperature rises. You hummed as you begin to wash your body, while letting the water soak you thoroughly. 

As you wash the remaining shampoo from your hair, you hear a soft sound of footsteps coming from the room. A lazy smirk stretches on your lips as you feel your lover's hands wrapped around you, and he pulls you against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he begins to pepper a few kisses along your neck. 

"When I woke up and didn't see you beside me, I thought of the worst." He murmurs as he holds you close, and you chuckle at the overstatement. 

"Oh you." You softly moan when he nips on your skin, "I swear, someday I'll get sick of your remarks."

"But you'll still love me, won't you amore?" 

You giggled before you turned your body to face him, "You know I can't deny that."

It didn't take a second before your lips found each other, and soon you were wrapped up in the kiss. His hand creeps from your shoulder then down to your waist, and you feel something wonderful pressed on your lower belly. 

He kisses you with the same passion as you, and you run your fingers into his hair. He pushed you against the wall, and trapped you with his body. Your stomach was heated up as it dawned on you  that both of you are unclothed, and the fact that nothing comes between the two of you makes it easier for him to take you right here and now. 

"Giorno—" You gasped when he slipped his hand between your thighs, and you gripped his hand to stop him, "We'll be late for dinner."

"We can always call the room service." He stated with a heavy breath, "I don't want to leave the room."

"But—" Kiss. "You already made a reservation—" Kiss. "And we have barely left the room since we first checked-in..." 

"Oh, amore..." He chuckled as you struggled to keep your face straight, "Don't you think it's better for us to stay?"

You gritted your teeth as he teased you, but you won't give in that easily, "You said we could have dinner at the hotel restaurant," You pout, "Just a short dinner, then we can go back to our room."

He paused as he searched into your eyes, but you showed nothing but resolve. He lets out an amused, but soft snort, "Alright, if that's what my bella wants."

You beamed as you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek, "I'll go and get changed."

You were surprised at how easy he let you go this time, and how he didn't try to change your mind. But in spite of that, you're glad that he agreed to come with you. As you wrap yourself in a towel, you pick up the hairdryer before heading to the dressing room. Once you sit at the dresser, you begin to dry your hair and spritze some perfume on your pulse points. 

As you finished putting on light makeup, you started to choose which dress you'd use for dinner. Your eyes fell to the turtleneck dress, and the red stilettos on the bottom shelf. They are a perfect match, and you immediately put them on. Your feet easily slip into the heels, but you struggle to zip up your dress. 

"Need a hand?" You turned your head to see your lover leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed, and a towel hanging loose around his hips. He smirked at you, and you blushed when you realized that you've been staring at the delicate skin under his toned abdomen, for a little longer than necessary. 

"Oh," You coughed as you looked away, "Yes, I could use some help."

He tilted his head before he walked closer, this time his steps were firmer, as if he emphasized every step. You gulped as you turned on your heels, and now with your back facing him, you couldn't possibly know what he'd do.

"(Y/N)." He spoke in a low tone, and you shivered when his knuckles brushed the delicate skin on your spine. His hand then slowly pulls the seam of the zipper toward the center, and you feel your dress fastened around your waist. "Diamonds and gold would complement your dress perfectly, don't you think?" 

You straightened your back as the slider reached the end point, "I think so too," You bit your lip when he sneaked his arms to hold you from behind, "Go get dressed, I'm famished."

He chuckled as he withdrew his hands from you, "Mia ragazza is very impatient tonight."

When Giorno left your side, you distracted yourself by opening your jewelry box. Pearls and diamonds proudly shine under the bright lamp, and some of them reflect a small patch of rainbow. The double necklace and the matching earrings quickly grab your attention, as well as the simple band ring and the Victorian "three stone" diamond ring. You certainly couldn't choose which one you should wear if Giorno didn't tell you the perfect pair for your dress. 

"Are you done yet, amore?" Your head turns toward the source of his voice, and you almost gasp when you see him in a loose white shirt. His clothes neatly tucked into his belted trousers, and the top three buttons of his shirt were left open. 

"Yes, I'll get my purse." You said with a little bit of hurry, and thankfully the thing you searched for is right on the sofa. You hurriedly went to grab it. 

"Hold on for a second, amore." He suddenly called, and you froze as it sounded more like a command. You stay unmoved as he touches the soft mount of your bum, and begins to fondle them. You bite back your moan when he pushes you flat against the door, while his hand roams onto your backside. 

But something felt wrong, as you could no longer feel the band of your underwear. Then, something's creeping up from your thighs, and that's when you spot a black scales creature, with a pale yellow underbelly. Your eyes widened as you screamed when you saw the snake slithered away, and up into his hand. 

"Shh, bella mia. She's as harmless as a dove." He let you go as he kissed the top of the serpent's head. Its tongue flicks out as it bumps its snout on his cheek, demanding his attention. He then scratches its chin lovingly before the scaly creature slips into his pocket. You watch him in disbelief as he opens the door for you, as if he hadn't done anything wrong, or hadn't just taken your underwear. And when he gives you the smirk that weakens your knees, you know you should've called the room service instead.

—

The dinner went quiet, and thanks to the shock that he gave you earlier, you no longer had the appetite. The feeling of sleek scales on your thigh has been lingering for a while, and it still stirred your gut up. 

But it's not the only thing that makes your stomach churned, 

"Ah, mia bella... You look ravishing tonight."

"How's the wine? Does it suit your taste? ... Or do you prefer another drink?"

"They were delicious, but I'm still hungry for something else."

You didn't know how many times you've bit your lip to keep yourself composed, and you were sure that he already knew how flushed you've become. The fact that he booked the whole restaurant for the two of you didn't help either, because he could tease you all he wanted without the disturbance of the curious eyes. 

There's no other people in this restaurant, and all the attendants of the restaurant have left the room as they were instructed to. Giorno told them that he wants some privacy, and of course, no one would be brave enough to deny such a request from the Don. 

"What's wrong, amore?" He looks at you with his chin resting on his hand, there's an unmistakable amusement from his tone when he sees you getting nervous. 

You forced a smile as you lifted your wine glass, "It's nothing, caro." You replied, "I'm waiting for the digestivo."

"Oh." His response was flat, but his lips curled upwards. "Why the rush? We still have wine to finish."

Of course, it's only half a bottle left, you thought sarcastically. 

He had ordered a bottle of 'Valpolicella Ripasso Classico' wine for apéritif, but by the fourth glass, you were beginning to feel tipsy. You were sure you'd end up drunk if you kept going, so you didn't pour the wine for the fifth round. Besides, you still have the after-meal liquor for later. The alcohol did calm your nerves, as you can feel the tension in your shoulders melted away. 

But something odd is going on, and you know you're not drunk enough to start hallucinating. At first, you felt that you were being watched, but there's no one in the restaurant except you and Giorno. Then, there's a soft, feathery touch on your hand, but it was brief, as if you were just imagining things. 

Except, you weren't. Because the second you felt a firm grip on your thigh, you finally understood what was happening. 

"Ah, it seems like GER couldn't wait to taste you." He smirked when your mouth fell open, "We shouldn't let him wait any longer, don't you think?"

"Gio!" You hissed as you tried to close your thighs, but his invisible stand easily pried them open. "Please, caro—" A squeak escaped your lips when a pair of strong hands pulled you to the edge of your seat. 

Giorno watched you with half-lidded eyes, while you gritted your teeth to bite back your moan. His stand had just pushed your legs apart before his hard, and cold lips were attached to your labia. You instantly grip the armrests of your chair when you feel a long unnatural tongue slip into your core, and it's so cold, so cold like a flexible metal. 

Your knuckles turned white when the elastic muscle was dragged to your little pearl, and Giorno sighed in pleasure when he could feel your heartbeat through his stand's tongue. You certainly didn't expect him to use his stand like this, it's pretty bizarre to think that his powerful ally—the thing that has accompanied him in every fierce battle, agreed to do such a debauched thing. If there's no tablecloth to cover your legs, you were sure your pussy would be on full display. 

The seam of your dress was pushed to your stomach, revealing your bare thighs to his eyes only. The sight of your skin and your private part drove him crazy, as he could feel himself growing tight in his pants. He sips his wine as his stand works on your pleasure, and you begin to feel the buildup to your release. 

Your feet curled when his finger slid into your sex, before he added another one without warning. Your wall clenched around his digits when he buried his fingers deeper, until he could touch the tender part of your core. It didn't take long before he began to caress the certain spot that sent you into spiralling bliss, and you silently moaned at the delicious friction. 

"Oh mia bella..." He chuckled when he saw your face twisted in pleasure, "Do you think I can make you come before they serve the amaro?"

You whined at his vulgar question, "Giorno." His name falls from your lips like a beg, as the idea of coming undone in this very situation excites you.

But you still have a little sense of judgement left, and you reminded yourself that you're still in the restaurant—a public place. And that's when you spotted a man, the waiter to be exact, just entered the room. He seems to be walking straight to the bar, and there's only one explanation for it, he's preparing for the digestivo. 

"Giorno, we shouldn't—" You draw a quivering breath, "We—ah! We should stop."

"Isn't it a little too late for that?" He grinned, clearly unaware, or even didn't care about the situation. But it's different in your case, you really need to stop him before the waiter approaches. 

You were beginning to panic as you saw the man finished pouring two shots of amaro, and placed them onto a tray. The distance between the bar and your table is only 8 tables away, you have to act fast. 

An idea, or more like a wild guess pops up in your mind as you push your stiletto off from one of your feet. Then you try to blindly feel his stand before your heel lands on a hard limb, which you instantly drag your foot towards the center of the stand's hip. His stand's movement ceases as his expression changes as he feels the sudden pressure on his crotch. It's not hard enough to induce pain, but it's just enough to make his cock throbs. You keep stroking his member as you put your best innocent face, 

"Mio amore," You called him with the most seductive tone you could muster. Which, unexpectedly, had an effect on him. He breathed out a low groan before he pressed his fist against his lips, trying to suppress his moan. 

You smile as you continue, "Do you like it when I do this to you, caro?"

He fell quiet as you gave his member the attention he craved, but his face darkened as he felt his control over you slipped away. You know he didn't like it when you tease him, but you'd rather have him punish you later than getting caught in public. 4 tables away, 3 tables away... 

You let out a relieved sigh as he calls his stand back, and his companion dematerializes in a second. You quickly straighten your dress before you adjust your sitting position, just in time to properly greet the waiter. 

"Two 'Don Bairo Elisir' Amaro Liqueur." The man smiles as he puts the crystal cordial glasses on your table. 

"Grazie."

"Do you need anything else?" He asked, but you shook your head. 

"No, that's all."

The waiter nodded before he bowed his head slightly to your lover, but upon seeing your lover's face, he turned pale. "Sir." He trembled as he excused himself from your table.

You gingerly bring the glass to your lips before you pretend to look somewhere else, anywhere but his face. But even with your effort to ignore him, you couldn't shake the heavy tension in the air. You begin to sweat as you feel his eyes burn on your skin, you know exactly what it means. 

"I'm," You gulped, "I'm going to the bathroom."

In haste, you push your chair before you stand. You hoped your trip to the restroom would soothe the tense atmosphere, or at least that was what you thought. But when you turn your body on him, a strong hand swiftly holds your wrist in a death grip, making you freeze in an instant. 

"Oh you're not going anywhere, (Y/N)."

[surreal-duck]

You should draw even more midoyuzu actually trust me i'm a doctor

more midoyuzu but you didnt say what kind. transgender lesbian beams your idols

[all-or-nothing-baby]

WHEN THE NIGHT HAS COME AND THE LAND IS DARK

.

Sometimes, on cold nights—and even some not-so-cold nights—Geralt wakes abruptly in the forest with something tickling his cheek and bothering the inside of his nostrils.

Jaskier's hair is like silken web; soft and fine, and fucking irritating when it tangles itself in your eyelashes like dandelion fluff caught in tree sap.

On these particular cold (and not-so-cold) nights, Geralt wants to grunt loudly and swear and push Jaskier roughly from Geralt's space on Geralt's bed roll because what the fuck, bard?

He never does though.

Not even this time, as Geralt awakes to that mass of brunette spiderwebs in his actual fucking mouth, with one of Jaskier's surprisingly muscular arms and a long shapely leg wrapped tightly around Geralt's midriff as if the cretin is some sort of tentacled ocean dweller. Oh, and, for fucks sake, the idiot bard's stupid slackened, drool-covered face mashed right into the crook of Geralt's neck.

Half blowing, half spitting Jaskier's hair from his mouth, Geralt balls his fists and grits his teeth and sighs, heavily.

With the moon fat and high in the inky sky and sounds of the wild all around them, he will try once more to find sleep.

Closing his eyes again, Geralt pointedly ignores how Jaskier smells of lavender and forest ferns. He shuns the way Jaskier's soft, rhythmic snores play their easy tune in his ear. He takes no note of Jaskier's even heartbeat and how the sound of it is a welcome comfort in the dead of night, pays no heed to the shallow breaths leaving Jaskier's mouth and the way each exhale warms more than just the spot underneath Geralt's jawbone, and he doesn't spare even a bit of attention for the way those smooth lips with their perfect cupid's bow feel on the skin of his throat as Jaskier mutters the sweetest song lyrics from his dreams.

As sleep finally does pull him under, Geralt also most definitely does not take to heart the way the idiot bard makes everything better.

.

(from my deleted witcher blog behonesthowsmysinging)

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - ch 1 | Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

Next chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: Now that Frankie is finally home for good, you can start looking to the future

Notes: Welcome everyone! This is a repost from my former blog "mywordhaven" Because of some technical difficulties with my old account, I decided that it would be easier to repost my work with a brand-new blog. It's basically the same chapter as the last one, but I did make some edits (mostly syntax tbh). I will be posting the other two chapters later tomorrow and the fourth chapter should be up on sunday.

I hope that those who were following me on my old blog will join me here and I look forward to meeting newcomers!

At Long Last

You find yourself drowning in the itchiness of the comforter draped across you. Its green, worn fabric scratches your overwhelmingly sensitive skin. Surprisingly, today you welcome this sensation. The uncomfortable feeling anchors your mind to your bed, preventing it from floating away. In this moment, as you struggle to catch your breath, the scratchiness of the duvet reminds you where you are.

Your hands glide slowly across the rough fabric, savouring its familiar prickle. As you trace the worn contours, you recall when you saw that green monstrosity for the first time— It was the day you and Frankie had first moved in together all those years ago, right before his second long deployment. From the moment your eyes landed on it, you despised its discoloured hue as it clashed with your envisioned home's colour scheme. But you had kept silent. Frankie was leaving, and you didn't want your last moments together marred by a pointless argument over a green bedspread, no matter how dreadful it looked.  

Now, ten years, 2 home relocations and a marriage later, that green duvet stubbornly remains an integral part of your bedroom decor, painfully clashing with the soothing blues surrounding it. Cornflower Blue, as the Home Depot employee had labelled it. You had agonized for days on which colour to go with, tirelessly checking Pinterest boards in the hope to find the perfect shade for your bedroom— A place you hoped would be a peaceful haven for Frankie. You spent weeks deliberating between countless swatches until finally settling on the current hue. Still, the horrid green persistently clashes with the blue you lovingly chose. Perhaps sage green would have been wiser, you think. But you had refused to admit defeat to an old, worn duvet and instead, had stubbornly gone with your first idea, horrid green be damned! But now, to your frustration, the bedroom remains an enduring battleground of colours, an ongoing struggle where different shades vie for supremacy in their quest to dominate the mood of the room.

Yet Frankie had never commented on the jarring combination of green and blue or their blatant mismatch. Perhaps you were making a mountain out of Molehill as you always seem to do. After all, your tendency to dramatize insignificant matters had been a subject of teasing within your family for as long as you could remember. Your brother had a habit of remarking on how seriously you took trivial matters. For your entire lives, nicknames like "Miss Prissy" or "Your Majesty" had been some of the less painful monickers thrown your way to highlight your over-sensitiveness. And while your family saw it as innocent sibling teasing, these remarks had a way of leaving you feeling bruised, unable to brush the comments off as easily as everyone expected you to.

Your hands pause above your bare, sweat-dampened chest, shaking your head to dispel the unwelcomed and intrusive thoughts. Instead, you focus on the blissful moment you’ve just shared with your husband. The memory of that bothersome, green eyesore and all its associated baggage swiftly retreats from your mind, vanishing as fleetingly as it arrived.

Finally, you begin to feel like the easy joys of savouring life are within your reach. With Frankie by your side, you start to envision a newfound freedom to engage in playful bickering, loud laughter, and sheer enjoyment of each other. The mundane moments hold an allure like never before, beckoning you to revel in their ordinary beauty. It's a longing for a life that seems quintessentially American, relentlessly depicted on daytime television—an idyllic portrait of a family, complete with devoted parents and their brood of 2.5 children, nestled in a cozy backyard. PTA meetings, a simple 9-to-5, soccer practices after school, and piano lessons on weekends create the repetitive rhythm of this picture-perfect existence. In your vision, the pinnacle of concern revolves around selecting the ideal flowers for the summer flowerbed. While some may deem it mundane, for you, it represents an exquisite slice of paradise.

Your husband Frankie had gone through years of military service, and he deserves nothing less, you think. Your hands still from their exploration as you think on the nightmares, anxiety, and fear that would consume Frankie. Even here with you, it sometimes felt as though he was still back there, never truly able to be completely present. Like on those many nights when Frankie was on temporary leave, he would wake up screaming and trashing in the middle of the night covered in cold sweats. Or when you guys would be out and about, and his eyes would shift with practiced zeal as if he was assessing for possible threats. Never really “turning off”. No amount of sweet reassuring words were ever able to soothe him when he found himself stuck within his own mind. Every time you tried to discuss these concerns with him, your husband would respond with calm reassurances, followed by a tender kiss on your forehead, urging you not to worry about him.

You shake your head, a resolute movement meant to, again, brush away the intrusive thoughts lingering on the periphery, refusing to let them dim this precious moment. You shift your gaze, fixating on the horizon of possibilities that stretches before you. It is a horizon where love acts as a healing balm, gently tending to the myriad wounds etched upon your husband's past. Your heart, though cautiously guarded, brims with a glimmer of hope, eager to embark on this journey together.

However, despite your best efforts, thoughts of your mother insidiously infiltrate your mind. Over the years, you've clashed with her on countless occasions, yet now, as a married woman, you think back on her warning before you got married. The resonating echo of her stern voice lingers in your thoughts, admonishing you to unwaveringly stand by your husband, regardless of the circumstances, and emphasizing that his happiness must always take precedence over everything else. Strangely, she never mentioned the reverse. With Frankie's return, you resolve to be more present, leaving daydreams behind and focusing on him and solely on him.

As you think of Frankie, you can clearly see his body and how it bears the evidence of his service, a map of scars, some worn openly, while others hide beneath his weary flesh. Deep wounds that bleed and pain him more than any bullet ever could. Words alone seem insufficient in the face of everything he has sacrificed. But now, Frankie is finally home, all of this is behind you two. And isn't all this what marriage vows were meant for? In sickness and in health, through the lows and the highs, you pledged to be there. As you remind yourself, supporting your husband doesn't diminish your strength and independence. It's merely an expression of love and partnership, you firmly resolve, even though the words ring somewhat hollow, as a voice in the back of your mind whispers, "But what about you?"

You slowly redirect your attention to the persistent itchiness on your skin. Taking three deep breaths, you allow each inhale and exhale to anchor you firmly into the present. As the air fills your lungs, you feel your shoulders slowly ease from the tension you always seem to put yourself under.

Now that Frankie is here to stay, you want nothing else than to provide the emotional solace and respite he needs to rebuild and find peace within himself. After everything Frankie has endured, you decide that he deserves a life that is predictably dull yet safe and warm. You want to build that life for him.

As your imagination runs rampant with visions of the life you're now free to construct together, Frankie emerges in the doorway. Clad in nothing more than a familiar, well-worn pair of briefs, he exudes an aura that is unmistakably his own—a blend of warmth, comfort, and a sense of home. In that instant, as you gaze at each other, it feels as though every small longing you held during Frankie's absence has converged into this singular moment. Nothing else matters to you right now except being with him.

In Frankie's hands, he carefully balances a tray, on it a tall glass of ice-cold water adorned with glistening condensation. The hunger stirs within you and your gaze falls upon two perfectly crafted PB and J sandwiches, invitingly prepared. It's evident that even now, the precise conditioning instilled by the army remains ingrained in Frankie. The unwavering precision, tidiness, and discipline persist, even amidst post-coital bliss. Sloppily prepared sandwiches? Never on Frankie’s watch.

Fondness envelops your heart, causing it to flutter with an intensity that threatens to burst from your chest. At this moment, a culmination of experiences floods your mind—the countless sleepless nights spent anxiously awaiting a call, the fear that gripped you while scouring the news for any shred of information, and Frankie's inability to share the depths of what he went through all race to the forefront of your mind. Now, as you reminisce about those moments when others would claim that being with Frankie wasn't worth the pain or hardships, a profound sense of satisfaction fills your heart. You're grateful for having ignored their words, as every single challenge and difficulty encountered along the way—the long-distance separations, the emotional uncertainties, and the sacrifices made—has ultimately proven to mean something. A smile mirrors your own overwhelming happiness as Frankie starts to walk toward the bed.

"I thought you'd have an appetite after all that exercise," Frankie says, his voice laced with a playful tone. His eyes, warm like melted chocolate, cradle you in their soft gaze. They speak volumes, no words needed, telling you just how much he cares.

A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you playfully quip, "Guess it doesn't help that we skipped dinner either, huh?"

"I apologize, mi cielo. I suppose I let my excitement get the better of me," Frankie admits, a touch of boyish bashfulness colouring his tone. "After eight long months apart, how could you expect me not to pounce on you, especially when you look so breathtaking?"

With utmost care, Frankie gently places the tray on the tiny side table, taking special care to move aside the book you're currently engrossed in. With the task completed, he turns his gaze towards you, slowly making his way to your side. Your eyes lock, and in an instant, he tenderly captures your mouth with his own. The kiss is unhurried yet filled with an intense passion, a promise of all that is to come, a fulfillment of the multitude of promises you have made to each other. Now, you have all the time in the world to embrace those promises.

As the kiss deepens, Frankie's hands begin to explore your naked body, their touch igniting a fiery desire that resonates deep within you. It engulfs you in a passionate longing that intensifies with each passing second. Frankie's wandering hands halt at your hips, where he gently strokes your sides while deepening the kiss even further. Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily, his warm breath mingling with your own. A playful glimmer dance in Frankie’s brown eyes as he firmly grabs your hips, effortlessly flipping you both into the deep plushness of the bed.

A delighted squeal escapes your throat, and you find yourself on top of Frankie, straddling his warm hips. His devilish smile meets your gaze. Like a tidal wave, a rush of excitement cascades through you, electrifying your senses and igniting newfound energy within.

"I thought we were supposed to have dinner," you playfully tease, your hands resting on the firm planes of his pectorals.

Frankie's eyes glisten mischievously as he responds, his voice filled with playful affection, "Don't worry, hermosa. Dinner can wait another minute. Right now, all I want to do is admire you." With a tender touch, he grabs a handful of the fleshy part of your hips, gently massaging your sides. His voice carries on, laced with adoration, "You know, this angle is my favourite. When I see you from above, naked, and sweaty, you look like my very own Amazon. My fierce warrior queen whom I can’t wait to worship." His grip tightens possessively, playfully swatting your behind, causing your flesh to softly jiggle.

You can't help but snort with amusement, firmly grinding down in a slow sensuous movement Frankie exhales a low moan, his eyes closing in pleasure. Yielding to the temptation, you momentarily cease your ministrations and whisper, "Well, last time I checked, librarians weren't renowned for their battle prowess.”

Frankie's smile stretches, his eyes opening and locking with yours, while his hands gently secure your hips. His soft voice echoes sweetly, "Physical prowess is just a fraction of true strength, mi cielo. It's a mindset, a spirit that radiates courage and perseverance. Believe me when I tell you, you possess that strength in a way that surpasses anyone I've ever encountered."

His words envelop you in a comforting embrace that floods your being with warmth. Reflected in his eyes is an unwavering conviction, a faith given to you unlike any you've experienced before. Such belief, one you've never even held for yourself, captivates you. The weight of his words resonates deeply, shaking the core of your being, even as you strive to maintain a facade of nonchalance. But Frankie effortlessly sees through your charade, knowing you better than he knows himself at this point. He slowly pushes his upper body upward and starts peppering your collarbones with tender kisses. You feel your cheeks heating as you shyly avert your gaze, unable to resist the sweetness of his praise and the even sweeter ministration.

A brief moment passes, during which you nibble on your lower lip, contemplating your next words. Finally, you muster the courage to meet Frankie's eyes once more, you push him back down on the mattress and ask, a mischievous glint shining in your eyes, "If I am to be your queen, does that mean you're willing to obey my every command?”

A playful smile dances on Frankie's lips as he replies, "Well, mi cielo, let's just say I'm more than willing to embark on the thrilling adventure of fulfilling your every desire, one command at a time." With those words, Frankie softly grabs your right arm, the very arm that had been holding him down, and he punctuates each word with a tender kiss upon the palm of your hand. As he does so, his eyes gently close, allowing his lips to linger in their affectionate embrace, locked in that sweet moment.

Frankie surrenders to the present, savouring every precious second that slowly passes between the two of you. The ache of longing for you these past months had been insurmountable, a void that only you could fill. Amidst his world engulfed in chaos, pain, and the remanence of a haunting trail of death that seemed eternally imprinted on his very being, your presence at his side has always been the sole beacon of meaning and coherence. The only thing that ever truly mattered to him. Screw everything else; he should have chosen to stay home long ago, before feeling trapped in the abyss he felt he had dug himself into over the years. In an attempt to dispel the encroaching darkness threatening to envelop him, Frankie inhales deeply, pushing away those grim thoughts, before swiftly flipping you over.

Everything else fades away again, and only the two of you remain. As you draw in a deep breath, the air fills your lungs with a trembling intensity, causing a burning sensation. Your chest tightens, not just from the weight of Frankie's presence, but also from the weight of everything that surrounds you, suffocating you in its bittersweet grasp. Tenderly, Frankie gently presses his nose against yours, once, twice, before planting a soft kiss upon its tip.

“My love, I assure you that nothing can ever come between us. There is nothing that could separate me from you. I belong to you for eternity, and as long as I can share my life with you, my dear, it will have been a life worth living, mi cielo.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and with a quiver in your voice, you whisper, "I love you, Frankie."

"Te amo, mi cielo, te amo para siempre," he replies, his words carrying the weight of a vow between you two.

With intertwined fingers and hearts overflowing with love, you gaze into each other's eyes. As you lie there, wrapped in the afterglow of passion, you savour the tranquillity and completeness that permeates the room. You vow to cherish each day, to embrace the ordinary moments that always become extraordinary when you are with Frankie. Together, you will face the world with open hearts, ready to create this future you’ve always yearned for with Frankie. As Frankie peppers kisses down your throat, you smile, and a shuddering breath escapes you. Food can wait you think giddily. Your hands gently glide along the broad expanse of his back, savouring him in all his glorious being. Nothing else matters now, for Frankie is home.

[pastelxfilth]

"Please rub my clit, Mommy," you beg. "It aches so badly!"

"Aww, darling. Do you also want me to touch your drippy pussy?" Your Mommy asks, probing at your hole lightly. "Do you want Mommy to put her fingers inside your tight little cunt and fuck you good? So good that you'll cream and pee all over her fingers and create a big, big mess inside your panties, making them all nasty and dirty?"

"Please-," you gasp, your voice hitching audibly, and you hide your face behind your hand in embarrassment. "Yes."

"It's alright, Princess," your Mommy comforts, then slips one hand beneath your white cotton panties and starts rubbing your button firmly. "Let me hear you."

Your hot breath pants against your Mommy's skin, and your pathetic groans mingle with small cries. "This feels so good," you whisper.

"Yes, love."

The hand not busy inside your panties pushes slowly down on your stretched bladder, putting more pressure on it.

"Mommy!" You gasp in panic. "I'm so full!"

Your urethra twitches.

"I know, darling." One of your Mommy's fingers sneaks a bid further down between your sloppy lips and tickles at your hidden pee hole. "Let a few droplets out."

"I c-can't, I-..."

"Hush. Only a few droplets. Be a good girl for Mommy. You can do it." Without warning, your Mommy shoves two of her fingers into the sopping hole of your cunt. The spongy walls part for the intruding digits and suck them deep into their slick heat. You buck, the muscles in your abdomen tightening.

"Oh, God!" Your legs shake. And then, two fat, hot drops drip from your cramping pee hole. "Oh!" Your eyes shoot open.

"There it is, Princess."

Your Mommy presses the pad of her thumb roughly against your clit, and a tiny spurt follows the precious first drops.

"Just like that, baby. Such a good, good girl," your Mommy mutters into the crown of your head. "There it is, there it is, my little pee slut.

  ♡

               you can read the actual story here ˚✧.

               

[gardenfairie]

[REPOST from old acc: @moved-accounts-gardenfairie]

Finally posted the first chapter of my byler college au where another guy starts hitting on will and mike gets jealous 🤩

Link to the fic

[asahicore]

jay and hoon titles are very tentative...

sweet tooth - in which jay is your rival-turned-lover-turned-ex from baking school and you meet again when the café you open in your hometown is right across from the bakery his grandma owns .. he starts working there bc his grandma falls ill etc etc.. probably very angsty but also lots of sexual tension.. might turn out vv long (for 100 kisses event)

ken dreams - in which you meet sunghoon at a halloween party, accidentally wearing matching costumes... you bone at the party and he falls in love with you but it's just a one night stand.. stuff happens and you settle for a fwb relationship but mans is not letting you not know about his feelings for you... himbo!hoon ftw.. hes a jock ur a nerd hes ur brothers best friend (for 1k event)

conveniently pool owning friend - in which you know very well you'll never be the female lead of a passionate love story, you know your fate is to be the friend that has a pool and throws parties where the main characters flirt and get closer. that is until jungwon appears, and someone notices you for the first time, although you're convinced he's only looking at your best friend.. brothers best friend with a twist because the brother in question is your bff's brother and not yours lol but it still works okay. (for 1k event)

[demonmary]

on dean and aging: weathered glass

Dean sat on the dock at the lake house, and the morning came up to greet him. He’d gotten used to rising with the sun, adjusted to the light pouring through the window in the bedroom he shared with Cas. Cas, who refused the completely reasonable request for blinds, shrugging Dean off with some rumbled nonsense about circadian rhythms and the nature of humans that Dean ignored in favor of pressing kisses to his neck. Cas, who Dean got to spend the rest of forever with, no strings attached, goddamnit.  

[read on ao3 or continue below]

Castiel was still asleep, for all his posturing about early rising still remained a late sleeper, still needed to be woken up gently with a cup of coffee and a kiss, and jeez, when did Dean get so soft? He’d never seen  this  as his future, always pictured going out in peak condition, kicking and spitting and swinging till his last, but now he was cradling a mug painted by his kid and sitting on a porch he built himself. 

Sure, his kid was literally God , and the property they lived on was technically owned by the guy who used to live inside the vessel that his husband possesses, but still. Dean had gone soft.  

He wasn’t sure what to make of that, wasn’t sure if he should pass judgement or if that voice sounded too much like his father, but the thought barely had enough time to crease his brow before he heard the front door swing open.  

Dean turned his face to the sound and was rewarded with a soft press of lips to his forehead. Cas still carried the weight of sleep in his limbs as he nudged Dean over to join him on the porch swing. Without a word between them, Cas topped off Dean’s mug with some coffee from his own cup and wrapped his free arm around Dean’s shoulder. The sun hadn’t warmed the air around them yet, but the chill disappeared with the angel’s arrival.  

It was quiet like that for minutes; Dean wasn’t sure how many, as he sat in that feeling of soft warmth with Cas and watched the lake’s small tide and the waves it pulled across the sand.  

Dean didn’t mean to break that silence, but his words always ran on their own track. 

“Do you miss the old me?” Dean interrupted the blanket of peace for that? “I mean… Not when I was being a dick to you. But the old me. Y’know, big, strong hunter me? Not the hunting, sure,” Dean clarified, knowing where Castiel’s mind went.  

Cas relaxed minutely at the reassurance, and Dean leaned against his side, tucked himself right in underneath the ratted arm of his husband’s robe.  

Dean scrunched his face up a bit, sorting his thoughts into some semblance of communication. 

“Like, do you think I got… soft or whatever?”  Close enough,  Dean thought.

Castiel was thinking. He was quiet, and Dean couldn’t see his face, but he could feel the way the energy shifted, how everything seemed to go still as Castiel regarded him.  

When Cas spoke, he did so with careful calculation, like he was saying something that he knew to be absolute fact. He donated that same intensity to most things he said, but that didn’t change the way it still made butterflies twist and turn and tumble for space inside Dean’s stomach when the words were directed at him. 

“Dean, I most definitely think you have gotten soft, and I think that there isn’t a single soul on the planet who deserves that as much as you do.”

Cas turned to face Dean, setting down his mug and twisting his body towards the man he loved. One gentle hand reached up to cup Dean’s cheek, and Castiel stared the way he always did.

“I think that this world has not always been as kind as you deserve, and for a long time, you needed to be stronger than is ever fair to ask of someone. You weathered your way through every single storm the universe had to offer, and you did all of it for love, Dean. Not for vengeance, or for reward, or accolades, or for yourself, but you did it for the world. You didn’t wear down; you just… smoothed out. You could have let any single one of the battles you fought be the one that broke you, but you’re here.” 

Dean had come far, clearly, as he managed to hold the eye contact with Cas even as a tear slipped from his eye. Castiel brushed it away with his thumb, hand cradling Dean’s face.

“I think that soft is a wonderful thing to be,” Cas added, his voice lighter, his hand dropping from Dean’s cheek to steal his mug for a sip. Dean didn’t mention that Castiel’s own mug wasn’t even a foot away where he’d just set it down. Cas turned back to face the lake, kicking off the porch into a gentle swing with his arm snugly around Dean once again.  

Dean took a deep breath, the air off the lake fresh in his lungs. He took another peek at his husband, at the hand-painted mug he cupped in his gentle hands, and thought about the privilege it was to recognize their gentleness. He thought back to years of battles, of knives and swords and heaven and hell and electric blue light behind the eyes that Dean now gets to see bleary with sleep, and Dean smiled.

If this was soft, Dean found he didn't mind too much.  

[nyoomkitty]

Skwisgaar hasn’t quite been himself for a while but none of the guys know why. Why is he so tightly wound and what’s going on?

[crimeboys]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Crowley (Supernatural) Characters: Castiel, Crowley (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Lisa Braeden, Ben Braeden Additional Tags: One-Sided Dean Winchester/Castiel, not truly but bc of the circumstances, Post-Season/Series 06, it's basically a continuation of the stalking cas does to dean in "the man who would be king", except he's a little creepier and crowley calls him a slur, this is not particularly happy but i'm obsessed with s6 cas, Angst, Extreme Yearning, Introspective Castiel (Supernatural) Summary:

“Where’s heaven think you are, anyway? They think you’re on some holy mission, or do they know you’re at your place of worship?”