#so soft and gentle

[lobeliamaximoff]

I just can't

bonus: greedy, power-hungry female antagonists who want to use Bob and Wanda's powers to their own advantage

[pagesupinflames]

angel has kind of been. pavloved. to davey’s type of music.

they can’t help it. there’s this sense of stability, this comforting feeling that they get in their stomach when they hear his music play on the radio through bluetooth and they can feel his hand on theirs, sat on her lap with his thumb stroking at their skin like they’re delicate and made to be handled with care. they’ve memorized the lyrics by now, humming the tune to themselves as they slowly drift to sleep in the comfort and presence of their husband.

they listen to his music when he’s out late and sleep has become a foreign concept to them. they huddle up with a pillow engulfed in an old t-shirt that still smelled of their david—squeezing at the plush cotton with the music gently drifting them away, reminding them of his warm that they couldn’t mimic even with a heated blanket and more stuffed animals they could never need in a lifetime. they didn’t need to like the song; they liked david, and that was all that truly mattered in their eyes.

before they even realized it, darkness shrouded their mind in a deep slumber, and the shaw pack alpha would find himself stroking his angel’s hair as his favorite song seeps through their headphones like his soul with every pore in his body when he’s by their bedside.

[misskattylashes]

There is so much of a Humbug vibe to young Keanu. Like he's playing her in a biopic even though at this time she was only a baby

KEANU REEVES photographed by Karen Bystedt, 1987

[itaiikawaii]

Date Plan A to Z (cover) | 雨恩×鱼花

[pangur-and-grim]

he almost died, so now he’s allowed to be a brat forever

[call-me-pup2]

Watched a video of someone making a guy cum six times in a row with little to no time in between and honestly that's how I'm trying to be with someone

[kitt-me-not]

my late piece for mar1na/ marina day! ty side order for making momrina canon, smollusk is literally pearlina’s baby

[snail-day]

Can We Prep?

TW: Lovedrunk! Suguru x Reader, Mentions of SatoSugu, Double penetration (w/ toy), Unprotected sex, Creampie, Size kink, somno-adjacent (reader sleepy aftercare), Aftercare, Praise kink, Soft Yandere Themes, Sugu a little insecure. MDNI WC: 1.7k a/n: okay I really need to clean my house now, I literally started this earlier this morning and then stopped. Then came back. and now I reallyyyy need to prep my house for guests. Enjoy <3

Now, Suguru wasn’t expecting you to shyly come up to him early in the morning, fidgeting with your fingers while he scrolled through his phone just after Satoru left.

Wasn’t expecting you to bite your lip, fiddle with the hem of Satoru’s shirt you were wearing, bouncing nervously on the balls of your feet. His first thought is immediate and irrational: What’s wrong? What happened? Did Satoru do something? Who do I have to kill?

His phone long forgotten as it drops to the bed as his hand instinctively comes up to cradle your face, tilting it toward him, making sure you’re actually looking at him. “Your words, please?” he murmurs, already trying to quiet the panic in his chest. Because the truth is - he’s so scared sometimes. Scared that this dream is too good to last. That you’ll choose Satoru. That you’ll wake up and realize you don’t want them both. Don’t want him.

But then you kiss the pad of his thumb as it brushes your lips and mumble under your breath, “Do you think I can take both of you?”

And his brain promptly shuts down.

Like, blue screen, buffering circle, full system reboot. Both of them. You want them both. His sweet, shy girl, asking him so bravely, trusting him first. His heart fucking stutters in his chest.

He barely manages to drop his hands to your waist and press his forehead against your chest, letting out a long breath because you’re too much.

You came to him. Not Satoru. Him.

Because you know Satoru wouldn’t prep you right. Wouldn’t go slow. Suguru would have to stand behind him the whole time and tell him what to do - like always. But now? With you all flushed and fidgety and asking him first?

God, he doesn’t even try to hide the soft little laugh that escapes him, low and warm against your chest. He looks up at your pout, the flushed stain on your cheeks. It must’ve taken everything in you to come ask him. You trust him that much.

Of course he says yes. Of course he’s going to prep you. Tells you you can stop anytime. That he’ll take care of everything.

Because the idea of hurting you? Unthinkable. But the idea of them both being in you? Holy fuck.

It doesn't take long for him to get you on you’re on your stomach. Face down, legs parted, ass up. And he thinks this might actually kill him. Sure, him and Satoru have thought of this before. But didn't want to pressure their girl over it.

You’re already so wet, so soft for him, as he laps the last of your cum from his lips and lifts the blue dildo - almost identical to Satoru’s size, and watches the toy slide into you. He can’t help but press a hand to your tummy, splaying his fingers outwards, holding you there as his long hair falls over his shoulder. Whispers soothing little praises as he works the toy in and out in slow, deep strokes.

His chest aches. Literally hurts with how much he adores you. How cute those sounds you make are.

When he pauses, murmuring “Back it up for me,” and sees your hips roll obediently, working yourself deeper onto the toy? His heart squeezes so tight he’s not even sure he can breathe.

You’re working so hard. For him. His pretty girl.

And when the lewd squelching sounds start, the lube and cum dripping onto the sheets below, his cock is already leaking. He doesn’t even try to hide how desperate he is as he lines himself up behind you, cock flushed and twitching.

Pressing the thick dark tip inside, careful and slow, whispering, “We can stop anytime, just say the word, okay?” But he already knows you won’t. You’re clinging to the sheets, gasping as he inches in.

And he’s falling apart.

She’s letting me in. She wants me. She’s trusting me with this. Oh my god, I’m going to fucking die.

“Fuck - fuck - you’re doing so good, baby,” he groans as his pretty eyes squeeze shut, barely managing to bottom out before reaching for his phone with one trembling hand. Lifts the dildo just a bit to frame the shot - his cock and the toy both buried inside your soaked cunt - and sends the video with shaking fingers.

Our girl wants us to fill her up. Hurry home <3 Be safe. We love you.

Then he tosses the phone like it’s nothing, already focused entirely on you again. Because his thoughts are spinning fast now.

Now, his first worry is: he’s going to cum. His second worry is: do you even have space for it?

He strokes his thumb along the rim of your other hole, feeling your walls tighten around him as he rocks his hips a little deeper, his mind already spiraling. You're taking it so well. You're perfect.

He’s holding your belly like it’ll keep him connected. Like if he lets go, he’ll float away. That soft squish of skin, the bulge where he and the toy both stretch you open - it’s almost too much for him. The sight of it all. The sound of you gasping. The feel of your cunt gripping him so tightly like you never want to let go.

And then he’s moaning, biting your shoulder gently as he cums. Long and deep, his whole body trembling as he fills you to the brim. He doesn’t move. Can’t. Just breathes through it, forehead pressed to your shoulder, muttering, “Such a good - fuck - good - girl. Love you. C’mon, tell me you love me too,” he pants in short bursts. Suguru isn’t the type to beg, but in moments like this? He pleads as he spills inside you. Waits for your cunt to stop fluttering around him as you cum. Listens to your babbled I love yous through the haze.

“You okay?” he whispers against your skin, kissing the dip of your spine. “Still doing good, sweetheart?” Another kiss. Then a third. “Too much? Tell me, please.”

You nod sleepily, letting out a soft sound, and he exhales shakily - relief and adoration curling in his chest. He waits a beat. Then asks again. Feeling your legs shake less as his palm grazes across them.

“Still okay? You need water? A snack? Do you want me to pull out now, or do you need a minute? Take your time, baby, no rush - just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

He’s already brushing your hair back, peppering your shoulders and neck with the softest kisses like he can’t help himself. And he really can’t. He’s not thinking straight. All he can do is touch you. Kiss you. Hold you. Because he loves you so fucking much it’s making him lightheaded.

Once you give him the okay. A small little nudge. He pulls out slowly - so slowly - hand on your lower back, the other bracing your hip, whispering, “Easy, easy, baby… I got you,” as if your body might fall apart without him holding it together.

And when the toy slips free with a wet pop, his breath catches. You flinch just the slightest bit and he’s already bending down, voice tender and panicked all at once - “Did that hurt? Hey, hey, look at me. You okay, pretty girl?”

You nudge him again to continue, a small whine that he's being too much which he releases an airy laugh. His heart is still pounding. Not from the sex, not entirely, it’s from the trust. From how warm you feel. From the way you whispered “Do you think I can take both of you?” like it wasn’t the thing that just restructured his brain chemistry forever.

He presses a kiss to the swell of your ass, then your lower back, then between your shoulder blades, murmuring “Good girl” between each one, believing that if he says it enough times, maybe you’ll understand how much you mean to him.

“Gonna clean you up, love. Warm rag, okay? I promise I’ll be gentle.”

His hands tremble slightly as he leaves your side - just for a second, just a second, stay right there, baby - and returns with a soft, damp cloth. It’s not even hot anymore, but he tests it on the inside of his wrist like you might bruise if it’s a degree too warm.

Every wipe comes with a whisper.

“You did so well for me, baby.” “Still with me? Want some water?” “I know, I know - it’s a lot. You were so brave.” “I’ll make you breakfast after this. Whatever you want. Okay?”

When he wipes between your legs, he's practically holding his breath, voice breaking around the edges.

“Hurts at all? Tell me, please. I need to know. Want you feeling good, not sore - shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone so deep - ”

You have to grab his wrist to get him to calm down, which only makes him melt harder. He exhales a laugh, quiet and shaky, before leaning down to nuzzle against your cheek.

“I just… fuck, I love you,” he murmurs. “I love you so much it’s stupid. You don’t know what you do to me.”

You’re still blinking through the haze of afterglow and overstimulation, and he can’t stop brushing your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear so he can see your expression. “Hey, baby - still okay? Still feeling good?”

You nod, and he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Good girl,” he whispers again. “You have to tell me if anything hurts, okay? Or if it’s too much. Or if you feel funny. Or cold. Or if you want a bath. Do you want a bath? I’ll run one. I’ll add bubbles. Epsom salt. Rose petals if we have them.”

“You’re rambling,” you murmur, voice small, and it makes him smile like a lovesick idiot.

“I know,” he says, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “I’m just so in love with you, that’s all.”

He doesn’t even try to play it cool.

When he finally wraps you up in a clean shirt - his shirt, because it smells like him and he likes the idea of you covered in his scent - he tucks you into his lap on the couch, arms wrapped tight around your middle like he can fuse your hearts together if he holds you close enough.

"You warm enough?" "Want a snack?" "Want me to braid your hair while you rest?" "You okay, sweet girl? Still feeling good?"

Every five seconds. He’s hopeless. Disgustingly in love. His fingers brush over your thighs, your tummy, your shoulders, checking for signs of soreness, massaging the base of your spine as you curl up into him.

And then, quietly, “Hey. You really meant it, right? You really want… both of us?”

You hum, eyes fluttering as you rest your cheek against his chest. “Mhm. I want you, Suguru.”

His throat gets tight. His arms tighten around you. Watching you pick a show on the screen as he continues peppering you in kisses.

Just a man in love.

[fansids]

The cotton candy baby's official welcome into the world

[s2susu]

I want to kiss a pretty boy so slowly and intensely, that his legs go weak and his thoughts dissolve into little sobby whimpers.

It’s not even about sex... at least, not always. Like, sometimes I just wanna ruin a puppy with kisses alone.

I want to tilt his chin up, let my lips barely graze his, and then pull away just to watch his eyes beg for more, and I want to whisper, “I’m sorry, sweetheart… I just really love seeing you like this, so needy, so desperate for my touch... you always look so adorable I just can’t resist teasing you.” And while I say that, my hands would be sliding up his sides, feeling the little trembles in his body, the way he squirms under my fingertips. God, the goosebumps he gives me just from how much he wants it... How much he wants me!

I love eager boys, needy boys, adorable boys wtv you wanna call them, but the kind who moan into my mouth just from being kissed too long, the kind who chase my lips when I pull back, the kind who look so desperate for the smallest touches, the kind who cling to my shirt like kissing me is the only thing keeping them alive.

I mentally and physically need a soft, subby, a ruinable boy to melt under my touch and love me so sweetly while I ruin him :(

[mysteryanimator]

that s2 trailer gave me last min energy

[firelilysky]

Zukka Week Day Five: Zuko Joins the Gaang Early | Gay/Bi Awakening

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

You know what? I don’t WANT an awkward double date. I don’t WANT buck coming out and people having the ‘I know’ reaction or the ‘is it Eddie’ reaction.

You know what I do want?

I want Buck panicking over what to wear for the date. I want Buck flopping on his bed like very teenager after their first kiss all giggly and happy and touching his lips because he kissed a boy

I want Buck smiling every time he says Tommy’s name because maybe it isn’t forever and maybe he’s not even looking for forever anymore but he’s so happy and he’s so light and being with Tommy feels good

I want Tommy to keep calling him Evan, because before Buck was Buck he was Evan and Evan deserves to be happy to be treated so softly and lovingly and Evan deserves to be free.

I want Buck to be happy. To be happy and free and queer in the way we all deserve.

[nessberry]

I don't think ppl fully understand the absolute horror of travis being sa'd by and then almost murdered by a group of people and then having to continue living with them and depend on them to survive because there's literally no where else for him to go

[natalievoncatte]

“Lena?”

“What are you doing here?” Lena said, on the other side of the phone line.

Kara was already moving, lunging for the window, shedding her civilian clothes so fast she blurred into a streak of red and blue, the phone still mid-fall from where her hand had held it to her ear to the osprey cushion. She wasn’t thinking when she rattled windows with her passage. Less than a second later, the air snapped taught around her and burst with the cracking fury of a sonic boom as she bolted across the city in a ballistic arc that took her from her apartment to the upper floor penthouse office at L-Corp.

She was still too slow.

Lena was calling her name, her own phone flying from her hand into space as two men manhandled her over the railing into open air, almost six hundred feet up. Kara watched it happen in agonizing, hateful detail. She could hear every thudding panicked contraction of Lena’s heart even as she could count ever stitch in the side-seam of her dress.

Faster. Faster faster faster faster.

Any faster and she’d ignite the atmosphere around here.

Lena was perpetually falling, reaching up in a futile attempt to grasp the sky. Those thumping heartbeats came slow to Kara’s ears as she focused herself, time around her slowing to match her speed.

She has to do this perfectly. Hit Lena too fast and she’d kill her. Lena’s screamed stretched into a shrill endless peel as she fell, raw terror contorting her features.

Kara dove, slowing as she reached those last few millimeters of distance, forcing herself to match Lena’s speed, dipping under her so that the bewildered woman dropped into her arms and they further slowed together, Kara coming to a stop midair, half way down the length of her fall. Kara bundled Lena into her arms even as Lena clutched her in desperate fear, grasping and clutching at her in desperate fear. A wail of agonized terror exploded from Lena’s lips against Kara’s throat, followed by a taut cry of anguished relief.

“I have you,” Lena murmured. “You’re okay, I have you.”

Lena was shaking.

“They th-threw me off the balcony!”

They.

They.

Kara rose, cradling a treasure in her arms. They should have known better, these two thugs, these goons. To show her contempt, she blew them off their feet with a gust of air from her lungs. Tenderly, she placed Lena on her bare feet -her shoes had gone flying when she was tossed- and turned to her attackers.

One pulled a gun, the other ran. She crushed the crude little human weapon, so infuriatingly primitive and barbaric, almost forgetting not to pulp the wielder’s hand. As the other ran, she hooked her fingers in his collar and yanked, pulling him right back and over the railing. His scream satisfied something hateful within her and she wanted to stop herself from seizing his ankle, but she didn’t. The weight of the crest on her chest was too much to bear it.

She did let him dangle though, begging her for mercy.

Kara jabbed the comms in her ear and barked orders to the DEO agent that answered her. It wasn’t ten minutes later that half a dozen agents, led by Alex herself, were dragging the two men out of Lena’a office.

Lena herself was standing on the balcony still, shivering in the late night chill. Kara pointedly ignore the way Alex stared at them both as Kara unclasped her cape from her shoulders and threw the heavy cloth around Lena, bundling her up in it.

Oh Rao, her poor feet on the concrete.

Kara didn’t think. She picked Lena up again and carried her inside. Lena didn’t protest or even speak, as delicate as a precious baby bird in Kara’s arms.

“We can… we can deal with statements later,” said Alex. “I’ll step out.”

They were alone.

Lena just stared for a moment, as Kara opened the drawer in the coffee table and took out the fleece blanket that Lena kept there for naps or those frequent nights when she just didn’t go home, unable or unwilling to abandon her work for such pedestrian things as sleep, or her own health. Kara spread it across her, covering her feet. She just didn’t want her to be cold.

Kneeling beside the couch, Kara stroked a loose lock of wind-ruffled hair back from Lena’s eyes, forgetting herself, forgetting that she was the Super and not the Girl, right now. She couldn’t help it. The Super was stoic, unruffled, full of bravado. The Girl wanted to fucking cry and scream in agony and blessed release.

She was okay. Kara made it. Lena was okay.

Lena was staring at her.

“How did you know I was in trouble?”

The way she said it, it almost wasn’t a question. It sounded flat, half an accusation.

“I was with Kara Danvers,” Kara was about to say, but the answer died on her lips, the lie too bitter to cross her tongue.

She was so sick of lying, and the reasons why she lied all seemed so… hollow, here, now, and Lena wasn’t stupid. It was halfway there, Kara realized. She could see it in Lena’s bewildered, quivering expression. The thought was there, half formed, and once the suspicion was formed, it was only a matter of time. Their friendship was built on pillars of sand and the tide was rolling in right now.

“It’s me, Lena,” Kara whispered.

Lena’s eyes widened, as her nostrils briefly flared. Lena did not ask her to clarify, or explain. Her penetrating gaze merely searched, drinking in the details of Kara’s face in a way that made her feel both seen in a warm and comforting way and horribly exposed, the chill wind from the balcony door at her back. Yet the gaze was open, permissive. Kara noticed that one of her eyes was a little more blue than the other.

Rao, Lena was so pretty. She was beautiful, yes, in the austere almost untouchable way of a young powerful woman who weaponizes her looks, but that part of her was gone now, replaced by something open and vulnerable and soft, and usually reserved for Kara, not Supergirl.

Kara sat down in front of her, crossing her legs. She wanted to reach out and sooth the trembling she saw, her hand twitching of its own accord. Lena pulled the red fabric of her cape up and tucked it under her chin, making herself small.

“It’s you.”

“Yeah.”

“You caught me.”

“I always will.”

Lena closed her eyes. “I’m tired of falling. God I’m so tired of it, I just want him to leave me alone.”

Anger flashes in Kara’s chest, sending a jolt of heat up her spine as the red-sun fire burned within her, begging for release. She kept her eyes tightly shut.

A soft cry opened them again. Lena was crying silently in the manner of one used to hiding it, her chest hitching as she held it back.

“If it weren’t for you I’d be dead, Kara.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

Something tightened inside her, clutching so hard she could barely breathe. Watching Lena fall had been like… like looking over her shoulder and seeing the green flash. Kara had pinched her eyes shut and turned away, not watching the blast, screaming in agony when the blast wave tossed her pod, too afraid to watch her world die, unable to escape it. Sometimes that feeling would wash over her and tear her from the embrace of a dreamless sleep and she’d scream.

A soft, cool hand brushed her cheek. Lena reached out from the blanket and pushed away the errant tear. Kara couldn’t help herself, and returned the gesture. Lena’s skin was so delightfully soft, and whenever Kara touched her, felt her, it gave air to something like hot coals in her belly, and they’d threaten to become an unbound flame.

Something was happening here and she wasn’t sure what it was, but it was important. Kara had a sudden sense that this moment was a real one, an important one, and that she had just started bumbling through a choice that needed her full attention.

Lena was watching her, her soft intelligent eyes darting. Her breathing had calmed but she was agitated, heartbeat too fast, heat bloom crawling across her skin as her face flushed. A deep, powerful part of Kara woke up at the sight of it, something that she would normally have disdained had she remained on Krypton, a part of her that she might even have hated.

Her hand was still resting gently on Lena’s cheek. Lena met her gaze and shifted slightly, pressing a touch harder against Kara’s palm. It was an acknowledgement. It felt permissive, inviting. Lena tilted her expressions slightly and looked at Kara through her lashes.

She was scared, Kara realized. Scared but perhaps hopeful. Things began to swirl in her head. She could drown in the heady scent of an office full of flowers.

“You just keep saving me,” Lena said.

Kara rose to her knees so she could lean in, arching over her. This need, this impulse, gripped it like a firm hand on the back of her neck. It felt so wrong, so human, so Terran, but she didn’t care. For the first time she felt like doing this because she wanted it, not to make herself feel human or soothe some itch.

She hesitated every moment but Lena’s gaze remained fixed, a faint smile curling her lips as Kara drew closer, sliding an arm under her shoulders, very carefully pulling her up.

“I thought you were hopeless after the thing with the flowers,” Lena whispered. “Or maybe just regrettably straight.”

Kara wanted this to be right. She nuzzled her nose against Lena’s, one last tiny little request, and murmured, “is this okay?”

In response, Lena closed the gap and their lips met. Kara hadn’t felt like this since the first time she stepped off the ground into the open air. This was better than flying. Lena’s kiss was just so her, at once brash and hesitant, a question phrased as a declaration.

Before long Kara was holding her.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t.”

Lena released herself; there was no other way to describe it. It was like their past hugs but more, Lena embracing Kara as though she’d like to be absorbed by her.

“I know.”

In the morning she’d pay Lex a visit. She’d talk to Alex and J’onn, make it clear that if the DEO wanted a Kryptonian on speed dial, it was time to make her priorities their priorities, and the first thing she was going to do was tear Cadmus out of their hiding places by the root.

It wouldn’t be enough to just hobble their operations, she wanted them gone. Supergirl would work in tandem with the Kara Danvers until Lex Luthor had no friends, no allies, no resources. Even the prison guard who smuggled him his caviar would learn that any largesse towards his prisoner would summon a furious Kryptonian.

She would call in every favor, seek every ally, use every resource.

Right now none of that mattered. Lena was safe, and she was in Kara’s arms.

[momentomori24]

I can't get over how Shadow needed Rouge bribing him with a fucking spaceship to reluctantly attend Sonic's birthday party, but for Amy's birthday he not only went willingly but got all decked out in a costume, played along with the murder mystery game, went through lengths to get her tickets to her favourite band as a surprise present and agreed to go to the concert with her afterwards even tho he doesn't listen to their music to boot. Either Amy is a different kind of special or Sonic is just a different kind of "not worth it" lmao

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