#this combined with the long hair is ‘everything’

[morphodae]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ღ HSR Men Becoming Parents (part I) ღ · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ✦ I used a randomized wheel to select some characters on parent/baby head-canons. I will do the rest in other parts, and I also plan on including the HSR women as parents too! ≫ Note: some children of these characters are biological and some are adopted! :) ✦ CW: some related story spoilers for characters, non-graphic mentions of labor and delivery, pregnancy, fluff, mentions of angst but not much

✦ Characters: Aventurine, Boothill, Gallagher, Jiaoqiu x Reader (separate)

≫"Aventurine" - Kakavasha • ♧ • ☆———☆ • ♧ •  You aren't sure why you were nervous to tell him in the first place. He takes the news shockingly well; with a bright, wide smile and a tight hug. But there's no mistaking the tremble in his hands as he envelops you, the worry that furrows between his brows at night when he thinks to his own family, his clan, and their fate. So when that fateful day arrives and you go into labor, it nearly kills him to be kept out of the room with you. "There's issues happening, sir. She's lost a lot of blood and still is, but we are doing everything we can to ensure baby and mother survive this."

Hours pass, minutes, eternity. The mocking ticking of the clock does little to lessen the incessant pacing Aventurine does with his leg as he sits, gets up to pace, then sits some more. Every possible scenario runs through his mind; none of them are positive. He can't help but think back to his cursed luck, to the fate that befell his family and now - you. His child. His flesh and blood and his hope for the future... would he even be awarded that chance? Or would "luck" take you away from him, too? Nearly stumbling over himself, a nurse comes to get him; her eyes dark, exhausted, and her face forlorn as a tired smile stretches gently across her face. "They are both stable now. Would you like to see your little boy, Mr. Aventurine?" ≫ Boothill ━━✥◈✥━━ "Well fudge me! Ain't no way it actually worked!" He spins you around in his strong cybernetic arms; ecstasy doesn't even do his own emotions justice in this very moment. The two of you looked at galactic doctors in passing, some promising the idea of conception as long as Boothill had some genetic makeup left on his person. Which he did: his head and his hair. Still, the two of you didn't put much stock into it but figured you might as well both try. If not, neither of you had any issue being childless or even adopting an orphan from one of the many war planets. Boothill, for as curt and reckless as he could be, always admired your enormous heart for children and animals who had no home, and no one to take care of them. So, when the news of that so-called galactic genius of a doctor managed to successfully combine both your and Boothill's genes to create a baby, it isn't several minutes before Boothill lets your feet touch the ground. Even so, throughout your pregnancy, he still doesn't let your feet touch the ground. Call it dedication to you, his spouse, but also call it a fear of losing his family again. Months pass by quicker than expected and Boothill always managed to talk with the growing life inside you every night, telling stories of the sister they could've had, how proud he was of them already, how much of a fighter they were gonna be when they managed to kick you a little too hard.

And so, when time passes by in another blur, Boothill's eyes are glazed over as he stares down at the tiniest little bundle swaddled in his arms. Tiny tufts of hair that resemble his fill her small head, eyes thar resembles yours. She looks up at him, at her daddy, and one stray arm lands square on his face until her hand squeezes at his nose. Boothill is speechless for once; glad his little girl is strong and healthy and reaching out for his face - the one part of his body he can still feel touch. He swears on every part of his being: it's not just you he has to keep safe anymore, but his new chance at being a father.

≫ Gallagher ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The enigma known as "Gallagher" has always perplexed you. Even when the two of you met; just who or what was he? A person? A former person? Or an amalgamation of dreams? He proves you wrong one day when he decides to travel with you to a worn-torn world for your work. As a nurse, you usually went by yourself, but for whatever reason, Gallagher decided to tag along. "It'll be nice to stretch these old legs and get out to new sights," he said. That was before the two of you were stumped: staring slack-jawed at the little boy who had smuggled himself onto your ship. He is a Halovian child; small wings flapping nervously out of shame as he peers at the two of you behind some shipping crates. Sighing, you reach down to his level, outstretching your hand and hoping that your demeanor will allow the child to feel safe with you. To your and Gallagher's surprise, the little Halovian rushes to you in a desperate hug, a familiar sound of sniffles and a dampness near the collar of your shirt. "Please! I have nowhere to go! I'm so, so, so sorry to have snuck on to your ship!" the boy sniffles, voice muffled by the fabric he buried his face into by your neck, "please don't leave me! I p-promise I'll be useful!"

'Useful'... a word Gallagher could resonate with, one that hit a little harder than most when he slowly began approaching the boy in your arms. Something changed in his demeanor then, large, scarred hand deciding to ruffle the boy's hair until the Halovian sniffled and peered up at him. "No need to cry, kid. We'll take you with us, alright?" Gallagher glances to you for approval and you send him a kind smile and nod. The young boy grips on harder to your shirt, thanking you profusely as you carry him off somewhere safe until you can go through the proper channels to adopt him.

≫ Jiaoqiu —————❖————— "Why?"

"Why?" "How could I ever be upset with you...? The only part of me that's upset is you thinking I wouldn't want you after this news." He wraps his arms around you, contented smile on his face. "If this is what you want then, yes, of course it'll be hard, but I'm willing to experience this with you." Your hormones are raging as you hug him back, fear slowly dissipating as the guilt for letting yourself fall pregnant when Jiaoqiu's eyesight and wounds were still healing. "I never thought an old fox like me could be a dad, heh," he mumbles, holding you just a little closer, "but I think I could get used to it... the word: 'Papa'."

Despite one of senses severely impaired, Jiaoqiu is still just as much of a mother-hen as always; ensuring you are taken care of, properly nourished, and resting when you need to. He uses the excuse each day that he "needs to check your progress" on the growth of your belly, but knowing he has little to no experience with pregnancy as a healer, it's quite obvious he's lying just to feel your tummy and bond with his little kit. Jiaoqiu will use text-to-speech books on pregnancy and parenting frequently, telling you all about the progress and changes your body is going through. And, for the record, he takes any mood swings and changes quite well; the reason is quite simple, too. He never thought he'd ever have the luxury of settling down with a family of his own and so, he cherishes every single moment of the process: good and bad. When you go into labor, he's immediately at your side. His Foxian blood can practically sense it. His instincts take the better of him and he refuses to leave your side for even a single moment; wrapping his tail protectively around you and nuzzling his face close to yours with a flurry of kisses and encouraging words. His hand certainly hurts when you squeeze it, but he doesn't mind. He also doesn't mind if you feel the need to scream; in fact, he encourages you to let it out if it hurts. Feeling the tears on your face and hearing the agony in your voice as you try to stifle your cries hurts him more than you know. But, oh... when the first cries of his beautiful child is brought into the world, he feels that familiar lump of emotion forming in his throat, his chest constricting. When you describe what she looks like, describes just how much she resembles him, Jiaoqiu breaks down. He apologizes quickly and tries to compose himself. But it doesn't last long when he's allowed to hold his daughter with your guidance.

When her tiny hands wrap around his finger, he knows... he knows that he's finally reached a point where his centuries of healing others has finally begun to mend his broken heart back together.

© morphodae (please do not insert any of my works into artificial intelligence programs or repost my works on any site)

[magnoliasandarson]

strain

Damian al Ghul was born reaching.

Ras found this amusing; the young Demon showed great ambition and promise, even as an infant. Talia did not find this habit half as entertaining. She pressed her son's hands down and let the nursemaids tend to him. The Heir to the Demon's head had duties outside of the boy- he would grow to understand.

Damian al Ghul clung to his tutors and caretakers, searching for affection in silence and neglect. If he trained harder, if he performed better, if he learned more, then- then he would be worthy of the gentleness he craved.

When he arrived in Gotham, his hand instinctively went to his father's, but another dark-haired boy had already latched to it. So Damian did as he was taught to do when an obstacle appeared; he sought to destroy him. Bruce was not pleased with this, and the hand that might have one day been offered was never an option again. A father couldn't choose which of his sons he loved, and he would never love a killer- Damian would grow to understand.

Damian Wayne clutched his animal companions with whitened knuckles, a combination of desperate love and hard-earned fear. If he was softer, if he performed kindly, if he unlearned everything, then- then he would be worthy of the gentleness he yearned for.

Richard Grayson knew who this boy was; he saw his face in the mirror every day. For over a decade, Dick had been reaching- had been stretching to catch the family that kept falling away from him. The only difference is- someone had once held his hand. His heart broke for Damian, for the boy who so desperately longed to be caught.

So when he noticed Damian approaching the high wire- saw the boy dancing at the precipice of becoming something he wasn't- he offered a hand. If either noticed the other's fingers trembling despite their death grips, neither would mention it; because for once, they both could stop performing.

Observers would say the duo made no sense, claim both only tolerated the other, and whisper that they served to keep the other in check. It didn't matter that the clasped hands were perceived as controlling- because everything was finally within reach.

[katyspersonal]

Melina's design is odd..

Her hair is not red nor blonde but a secret third thing.. TWO secret third things, basically 🤔

Also her yellow eye looks more like Numen preset golden eyes than average Demigods shining golden eyes, and she fights like a Black Knife (also Numens)! But her second eye has such a similar color to Maliketh's (Beast's Eye) and Blaidd's that it makes me feel like it IS Maliketh's eye used as a seal instead of her actual "dark" one. Like, not just his clawmark, but whole eye. Messmer 🤝 Melina

But hair is straaaange. Marika's original hair color was likely not golden:

Her hair is very much drawn like it was dark grey or something, and gold is strings of light. I already made a bigger post tho: ( x )

Shamans (ALSO Numen) otherwise do have grey hair, meanwhile whereas Numen Tarnished preset actually has dull golden eyes like Melina's, but their hair is of course not golden either! It is graying though, and Numen are said to be very long-lived so maybe Shamans just were around for a while and Marika ascended when she was GILF gfhgghb

So like, regardless of why Melina isn't a golden child:

1) Melina's real hair color is that greyish brown, it is a combination of Marika's "real" hair color (grey) and second parent's one, but it turns grey when she unleashes Destined Death. (Assume Numens WERE targaryens grey of hair and Tarnished Numens are diluted or something and thus their hair is colored?)

2) Melina's real hair color is that greyish brown, it is like Marika's original hair color, assume Marika and others were just old or something, but it turns grey when she unleashes Destined Death

3) Melina's real hair color is that greyish brown, but if you squint it ALSO qualifies as extremely desaturated red, so maybe it is just a super weak touch of Fell God curse or one worn over time. It happens, look how less saturated Malenia's hair compared to Messmer's for example:

But it turns grey when she unleashes Destined Death.

4) Melina's real hair color is that dark grey, but when Marika gave Melina her purpose, she passed some Fell God curse onto her? So that lowkey painted her hair redder! Melina is burnt and bodyless and helps to start burning the Erdtree, so maybe Marika giving it to her somehow is why Melina worked as a kindling, but Bernahl's Maiden didn't! But in FF ending the curse is lifted because.. well, EVERYTHING is gone, that includes Fire Forge

5) Both are her real hair color and it is duality, since Destined Death fire is associated with both red and black colors! She reflects it albeit with very desaturated look!

[cynicalrosebud]

Echoes of Duty (COD Sentinel AU) - Locked In Scenarios

Series Masterlist

Aka locked in scenarios with each of the 141!

Being locked in refers to a Sentinel entering an intense sensory focus where they lose awareness of everything outside their primary sense. This hyper-focus makes them highly effective but vulnerable, as they become reliant on their Guide to help pull them back or ground them. It can happen due to stress, sensory overload, or a combination of both, making it a dangerous state if the Guide is unable to intervene. The bond between Sentinel and Guide is critical in these moments, as it allows the Guide to calm and redirect the Sentinel’s attention, breaking the “lock”.

Setting: Late evening in the safehouse, Price’s office

John Price sat hunched over his desk, piles of paperwork scattered in front of him. His head throbbed from hours of staring at mission reports, but it wasn’t the paperwork that was overwhelming him—it was the sound.

The safehouse, normally quiet, felt like an amplifier to Price’s heightened sense of hearing. Every creak of the floorboards, the distant hum of electronics, and the muffled conversations from the other rooms felt as loud as if they were happening right next to him. The overstimulation was unbearable, each tiny sound striking like a hammer against his already splitting headache.

He rubbed at his temples, trying to focus on the task at hand, but it was no use. He was drowning in a sea of noise, each sound crashing over him with increasing intensity. The tension in his jaw tightened.

“John?”

Y/n’s soft voice broke through the chaos, and though it was the only voice he could tolerate, even that sent a ripple through his heightened senses.

Price looked up, his gaze tired and strained. “Y/n... It’s too much.”

She moved toward him, recognizing the symptoms immediately. His senses were overwhelmed, the burden of his Sentinel abilities catching up to him. She could see it in the tightness of his expression, the way his fingers clenched the edge of the desk.

“I’ll help,” she said softly, already stepping close to him. “Close your eyes, and let me take it from here.”

Without hesitation, Price obeyed, closing his eyes and allowing her to take control. Y/n knelt beside him, her hands gently resting on his arm as she focused on guiding him, filtering out the barrage of sounds that were tormenting him.

“Breathe, John,” she whispered, her voice a quiet anchor amidst the noise. “Focus on my voice. Block out everything else.”

Gradually, the tension in his body began to ease as Y/n helped him narrow his focus, silencing the overwhelming flood of sounds. She created a bubble of calm around them, her presence a shield against the sensory onslaught.

The ticking of the clock, the soft rustle of papers, and even the faint sound of his own breathing began to fade into the background, muted by her careful guidance. Price could finally relax, the pounding in his head easing as the world around him became quieter.

“There you go,” Y/n murmured, her thumb tracing soothing circles on his arm. “Just my voice, John. That’s all you need to hear.”

Price’s lips twitched in a brief smile, the overwhelming strain lifting as he focused solely on her. The relief was immense, the silence she brought a balm to his senses.

After a long moment, he opened his eyes, his gaze meeting hers with unspoken gratitude. “You’ve got a way of fixing things no one else can,” he muttered, his voice low but sincere.

Y/n smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As she moved to stand, Price caught her hand, bringing it to his lips in a soft, lingering kiss against her knuckles. It was a simple gesture, but filled with depth—a thank you beyond words.

“Thanks again,” he said, his voice sincere.

Y/n nodded, her smile warm. “Take it easy, John. The paperwork will still be here tomorrow.”

Price chuckled softly, a hint of his usual confidence returning. “Aye, it will. And so will you, I’m sure.”

Y/n gave him a reassuring nod, turning back to him before leaving the room, “Always, John.”

Price watched her go, the echoes of her calming presence still lingering around him. His hearing had returned to its normal sensitivity, the overwhelming sounds that once plagued him now just a faint memory. But her voice—that remained, steady in his mind, a lifeline whenever he needed it most.

Setting: After a particularly grueling mission, at the team’s temporary base

The tension in the air was palpable as Kyle "Gaz" Garrick sat on the edge of his bunk, his hands flexing and curling into fists. His head hung low, shoulders sagging under the weight of the day. The mission had been brutal, close combat and intense physical encounters, but the worst part was the aftereffects.

For Gaz, it wasn’t just the mental exhaustion. It was his sense of touch—constantly heightened, always aware of every shift in the ground, every subtle movement of the air, every vibration through his gear. Now, after the mission, his body still screamed with the sensations that hadn’t let up, each one amplified, keeping him on edge.

He could still feel the recoil of every shot, the tension in every muscle he’d used, even the dull scrape of the rough fabric of his fatigues against his skin like sandpaper. It all grated on his nerves, his skin practically buzzing with overstimulation, as if his entire body was stuck in overdrive.

Y/n noticed him from across the room. She could sense the strain rolling off him in waves. His brow was furrowed, jaw clenched, his hands restless. She knew that look. It wasn’t just the aftermath of the mission—it was the burden of his enhanced touch, every tiny sensation amplified, overwhelming him in its persistence.

Quietly, she crossed the room, stopping just in front of him. “Kyle,” she said softly, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. “You’re feeling it, aren’t you?”

He didn’t need to answer, the tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his hands, all spoke for him. His touch sense had been in overdrive all day—every hit, every jolt, every shift in his surroundings hammering him long after the mission had ended.

Y/n knelt down in front of him, placing her hands on his knees, grounding him. “Let me help.”

Gaz let out a shaky breath, his hands dropping into his lap, the tension still humming under his skin. “It’s like I can’t turn it off,” he admitted, his voice rough with fatigue. “I can still feel everything… every punch, every damn vibration. It’s too much.”

Y/n nodded, her hands gently wrapping around his, fingers brushing his palms. “Focus on me,” she said softly, sending a pulse of calm through their bond. “I’m going to help filter it out. You don’t need to feel everything right now.”

He exhaled, trying to let go, focusing on her touch. Her presence began to take hold, like a gentle wave washing over him, dulling the sharp edges of his overstimulation. Slowly, she helped him narrow his focus, channeling the chaotic flood of sensation into something more manageable, more bearable.

Kyle’s breathing evened out as Y/n guided him, her touch grounding him in the present moment, smoothing away the strain. The vibrations running through his muscles began to ease, the overwhelming sensations gradually quieting as she worked.

“Better?” she asked, her voice soft but firm, still holding his hands in hers.

“Yeah…” Kyle’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the relief was clear in his tone. “Feels like I can breathe again.”

She smiled, her hands giving his a light squeeze before pulling back, though her presence remained a steady, soothing hum through their bond. “That’s the point. You don’t have to carry all that weight alone, Kyle.”

He looked at her, gratitude clear in his eyes, though his words came slow and soft. “Thanks, Y/n. I… don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d figure it out,” she teased gently, standing up. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

As she started to leave, Kyle sat up a little straighter, finally starting to feel like himself again. The overwhelming edge of his heightened sense of touch had receded, leaving only the steady pulse of relief in its wake.

Setting: Safehouse, post-mission late afternoon

Ghost sat in a darkened corner, his mask pulled down, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes were shut tight, jaw clenched as if holding back a flood. The mission had been brutal, but it wasn’t the fight that weighed on him now. It was his enhanced sight—always a gift on the battlefield, but a curse when he couldn’t switch it off.

Every detail, every flash of light, every movement in the room felt like a knife in his skull. He could see too much—the shifting shadows, the glint of metal from across the room, the smallest flicker of the fire. Everything was magnified, overwhelming, burning through his already frayed nerves.

Y/n had seen him like this before. She moved silently across the room, feeling the waves of tension and frustration radiating off him. Ghost’s senses were overstimulated—his enhanced vision had been pushed to its limits during the mission, and now, without the adrenaline of combat, it was threatening to shut him down.

She knelt beside him, her presence a calming force. “Simon,” she whispered, her voice soft and grounding, cutting through the overwhelming flood of sensory input.

He didn’t move at first, his breath coming in shallow, measured bursts. His eyes stayed shut, as if opening them would make everything worse.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” she asked gently, her hand resting lightly on his arm, letting him know she was there. He didn’t need to answer—she could feel it in the tension rippling off him.

“Too bright,” he muttered after a long pause, his voice rough. “Everything’s too damn bright.”

Y/n nodded, already reaching out with her Guide energy, her calming presence washing over him like a cool breeze. She could feel the overstimulation, the way every flicker of light and movement pressed in on him. Slowly, she began to help him narrow his focus, dulling the sharp edges of his vision, bringing him back to a state of calm.

“I’m going to help you turn it down,” she murmured, her voice steady, soothing. “Focus on me. Block everything else out.”

Ghost exhaled shakily, his eyes still closed as he felt the pressure begin to ease. He focused on her—her voice, her touch. The overwhelming sensory input began to fade, the blinding details around him slipping away as Y/n helped him filter out the chaos.

Bit by bit, the tightness in his body began to release. His breathing slowed, and his muscles, once rigid, softened under her influence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he opened his eyes. The world no longer assaulted him with its overwhelming brightness. Everything felt softer, calmer, and most importantly, manageable.

“You did it,” Y/n said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Feeling better?”

Ghost gave a slight nod, his shoulders still tense but no longer coiled with that unbearable pressure. “Yeah… thanks.”

He didn’t need to say more—his gratitude was clear in the way he relaxed under her touch, in the way his gaze softened just a fraction as he looked at her.

“I’m always here, Simon,” she reminded him, her voice firm but gentle. “You don’t have to fight it alone.”

Ghost gave her a brief nod, the words sticking in his throat. He wasn’t one for emotional displays, but he didn’t need them with her. She knew.

As she rose to leave him to rest, his hand shot out, gently catching her wrist. His dark eyes, still shadowed beneath his mask, met hers.

“Stay.”

It was a single word, rough and unpolished, but it was enough. She nodded, sitting back down beside him. The two of them sat in the quiet, the bond between Sentinel and Guide humming softly, soothing the storm that had once raged in him.

Setting: Early afternoon, training grounds

The sun beat down on the training grounds, dust kicking up as Soap MacTavish barked orders at a group of recruits. He had been running them through drills for hours, but their performance was sloppy at best. His patience was wearing thin.

"Come on, ya daft lot! Get it together!" Soap shouted, his voice carrying across the field.

The recruits scrambled to fix their formations, but the disorganization grated on his nerves. The sharp scent of sweat, gun oil, and dirt filled his senses, mixing with the frustration that had been simmering all morning. For a Sentinel like Soap, with his heightened sense of smell, the intensity of it was suffocating.

Each recruit carried a unique scent—some were nervous, others exhausted, and a few reeked of fear. It was overwhelming, bombarding his senses with a cocktail of emotions and adrenaline. The anger in his chest grew as the stench of failure filled the air.

Soap slammed his fist into the nearby post, startling the recruits as he tried to ground himself. But the smells were too much, too sharp, too strong. He couldn’t block them out, couldn’t focus.

"Jesus Christ, ye smell like shite!" he snapped, earning a few nervous glances from the recruits.

That was when Y/n, sensing the shift in his emotional state from the other side of the training grounds, made her way over. She could feel the anger radiating from him, his frustration feeding into the intensity of his Sentinel senses.

When she approached, Soap immediately caught her scent—calming, familiar, like fresh rain after a storm. The chaos of the training ground faded, and for a moment, all he could focus on was her.

"Johnny," she said softly, coming to stand beside him. "You’re pushing too hard."

Soap grunted, his jaw clenched, but didn’t respond. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of dirt and sweat still lingering in the air around them, the tension in his muscles refusing to ease.

Y/n stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Let me help," she offered, her voice calm and soothing.

Soap glanced at her, the familiar scent of her presence already starting to work its magic. He nodded once, reluctantly, as if ashamed to admit he needed it.

She took a deep breath, extending her Guide abilities to him, her touch grounding him. Slowly, she helped him filter out the distracting smells—the overwhelming mix of sweat and fear that clouded his senses. Instead, she focused his attention on more neutral, calming scents. The earthy smell of the grass beneath them, the faint tang of gunpowder that always lingered around Soap’s gear, and most importantly, her own scent, which had always been a source of comfort to him.

Gradually, the tension in his body began to ease. His breathing steadied, the overwhelming sensory input fading to a manageable level. The anger and frustration that had been bubbling inside him dissipated, replaced by a steady calm.

"Better?" she asked, her thumb lightly brushing against his arm.

Soap exhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a moment as he savored the reprieve she’d given him. "Aye, much better."

Y/n smiled, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Good. Now take it easy on them, yeah? They’re new."

He let out a short laugh, the sharp edge of his temper softened. "Aye, but they still smell like fear. It’s distractin’."

She chuckled softly at that. "Not everyone’s as fearless as you, Johnny."

Soap’s lips twitched into a grin. "Damn right."

As Y/n began to step away, Soap reached for her hand, his grip gentle but firm. He brought her knuckles to his lips in a soft, grateful kiss, lingering just long enough to convey his thanks.

"Thanks, lass," he murmured, his eyes meeting hers.

"Anytime, Soap," she replied, giving him a warm smile before turning her attention back to the recruits.

As she moved away, Soap’s eyes followed her, the lingering scent of her calming presence still anchoring him. He shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips as he looked back at the recruits.

But a new thought crossed his mind as he watched her scold the recruits for their lack of focus. The way she handled them—firm but fair—left Soap wondering what she’d be like as a mother, especially to the 141’s future children. The image made him smirk, a sense of warmth filling his chest.

"God help the poor bairns if they take after me," he muttered to himself with a chuckle before turning his attention back to training.

[indelicateink]

.

[carcarrot]

OH MY GOD A YEAR AGO TODAY .

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

since i tend to keep parts of the hair similar even when messing with haircuts/styles, i wanted to try specifically giving em some that don't do that. Liam even gets some extra facial hair too to really commit to the "just like your father" look lol

[mullets]

diluc was created just for me thats insane

[gojoshooter]

HER HO!NY HUSBAND : GOJO SATORU

tw. suggestive, gojo flashes his goodies

Husband!Gojo coming out of the shower with a wet muscular body and a piece of towel hanging along his waist—only to see his wife laying on the bed right in front of him.

Pregnant Wife!Yn who had been insecure of her growing belly and weight since a couple months due to her pregnancy, watches Gojo check her from head to toe, an unexplainable look on his handsome pale face.

Sitting upright, she fixes her loose garments. Maybe he’s finally come to the realisation of not being such a big fan of my mom body.

Husband!Gojo sensing her dejected mood, snaps out of his internal thoughts as he decides to reach out and sit next to her instead.

“Baby? Something’s bothering?” he asks softly, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

Pregnant Wife!Yn ever a self-conscious overthinker, mumbles while looking up at her husband, “I saw you gazing at me few a many times now...” she fixes her garment again, in embarrassment “like... weirdly. You start looking stiff all of a sudden, as if you want to confess something. About my bad shape maybe.”

At her confession, Satoru pauses, lips parted open slightly and not sure which part to explain first. He brings a wet but comforting hand on her swollen belly.

“Silly girl. Are you worrying about your plump little adorable tummy again? I told you I like it.”

Pregnant Wife!Yn frowns, not really sure of his words. “Really? Then how would you explain everytime you stopped to stare at me? Your face doesn't seem as if you love it—or even like it, Toru.”

Husband!Gojo who shakes his head, body turning more towards her distressed wife. “I don't like it? I love you and every part of you babe, you know me.”

Yn sighs softly, looking down with an upset face. “I do... but maybe i shouldn't have asked for a baby. I just... I feel like you'd have appreciated my old body more, Toru.”

Satoru snaps his head towards her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This was his last straw. She has to know what his pregnant, innocent wife does to him.

As he stands up slowly from the edge of the bed, he makes sure she's all eyes and ears. “Oh really now. Then I must give you a real reason to never regret your baby with me...”

Undoing the towel hooked on his dripping wet waist, the white haired man reveals his lower half of the riches. As her eyes set down, there comes in view an almost fully hard wet length of Gojo Satoru.

Pregnant Wife!Yn being taken aback, is unable to react for a good few first seconds, mouth agape. Light hue of red crawls up the neck to settle on her cheeks, when her husband hums in question.

“Mm? You see this? This is what you do to me, silly girl.”

Everything seemed suddenly more reasonable—Gojo stealing those frequent long gazes, his odd body language while he checks his pregnant wife out. Gojo gets aroused.

Pregnant Wife!Yn tears her gaze away from his manhood, cold sweat making her feel more or less like her currently out of shower dripping wet husband. Oh the thoughts that might be running in his perverted brain, all the ways he could take you in and you wouldn't be moving away with all the weight you bear of his baby, but comply, and relish, and whine.

“Oh-oh...” she mumbles shyly, the revelation lessening her insecurity effectively more than all sweet words combined could have ever had.

an. husband gojo >>> also this is my 1k readers special! ty for giving my writings your time, love y'all. likes & rbs are appreciated <33

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts

[sttoru]

hi!! could you write smut of sukuna w/ corruption kink x clingy reader? i need to see more of them 🤭🤭

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. smut, pwp. corruption kink. reader is described as clingy cute / innocent. voyeurism?// exhibitionism. double pénetràtion. cowgirl. cream pies. nicknames ‘slut, brat, woman’. combined 2 requests :3

it’s honestly your own fault. you’ve been sticking around sukuna the entire day, clinging onto him like he won’t let you experience the consequences of your own actions.

“eyes on me, brat,” sukuna scoffs, thumb and index roughly turning your chin back. he needs to see your face as he embarrasses you in front of the guests and other concubines standing around the throne.

you’re supposed to feel regret, yet you’re drowning in a state of pure lust. it’s the thrill that keeps your hips going, the ache in them temporarily ignored as you search for that grande moment of euphoria.

you can’t care less about the humans at the bottom of the stairs. they’re grovelling in fear of the king of curses, knowing their heads can fly off if they dare to look up at you two.

it’s a sign of disrespect—a sign that the king of curses can’t care less about what those lowlifes have come to see him for. sukuna’s doing so on purpose, using your clinginess to his advantage.

“hah, what a total slut of a concubine,” sukuna scoffs, leaning his head against one of his hands, elbow propped onto the armrest. this is a punishment for you, though it certainly does not feel like that. even if all attendants in the room can hear you fucking yourself silly on sukuna’s dicks.

you and those sloppy sounds of your two bodies connecting.

you try to hold back your moans, but a rough yank to your hair instantly opens your mouth again. your eyes roll back and your voice spews out. “mhh, my lord—‘s too much,” you whimper, however your body doesn’t stop bouncing on his cocks. sukuna responds by squeezing your middle while he watches his lengths being swallowed by your cunt and ass.

it’s funny how you’ve been reduced to a mess—a toy he can command to do whatever he pleases. your clinginess secretly pleases him, because it reassures him that you’ll do what’s asked of you. sukuna grins lazily, letting you work for it, “too much? tsk. weren’t you the one begging f’ my attention, brat?”

he does have a point. you nod mindlessly whilst his cocks drill into you—leaving no hole empty. your eyes dart to both sides of the throne, where two concubines are situated. you can see them tremble in embarrassment and envy.

sukuna’s showing you off to everyone and they don’t like it; none of the concubines do. they hate the fact that he chose you to show off to everyone else in the room. like you’re the only trophy he’s proud of.

the guests don’t dare to speak either. nor does uraume, who’s politely looking the other way as their master ravages his favorite little concubine. they’re used to his acts of exercising his power.

sukuna keeps a firm grip on your hair, threatening to pull your head back each time you dare look around you. “you have no shame. absolutely zero,” the king of curses says condescendingly. as if the humiliation of being watched isn’t enough, sukuna’s words add to the embarrassment you’re feeling, “cock hungry slut can’t go a minute without being filled, hm?”

your whimpers get louder and your pace grows faster. his fat tips hit your deepest parts over and over again, the stretch threatening to split you in half. you’re too turned on to care. the way sukuna’s staring at you with that menacing glare—his sharp nails digging into your skin so painfully . . . you need it all.

“this ‘s why you’ve been following me ‘round all day long,” sukuna grunts—one hand coming up to free your breasts from the confines of your robes, “y’ just needed to be dicked down.” the flicks against your stiff nipples make you tighten up around his cocks again and again.

you’re nearly screaming because of everything your senses are picking up on. your half lidded eyes catch a glimpse of sukuna’s cocky facial expression and you’re almost pushed over the edge. he’s so smug—knowing he has you in the palm of his hand.

his eyes are luring you in. there’s a hint of something so primal in there - a beast impatiently waiting to be unleashed - one that sukuna is trying his best to suppress.

“aren’t you just cute. . .” sukuna mocks with a dangerous chuckle. his thumb rubs your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth for you to suckle on.

“kehehe, isn’t that what those servants call you? cute.. innocent.. adorable,” he continues, faintly groaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb. sukuna cocks his head to the right and your eyes follow. that’s where you spot your maids and lady-in-waiting in a corner.

you feel tears well up in your eyes from both pleasure and humiliation. everyone is seeing and hearing you being claimed by the monster of a curse you’re riding. your maids have always adored your innocence—how you don’t seem to be tainted by sukuna’s advances no matter what. it’s a first to them.

it has been a rumor around the estate for so long; you being the only concubine who can withstand sukuna’s wicked influence. you always seem to stay yourself, your cheery and sweet personality never changing. you’ve been known as the innocent one among all other concubines.

yet here those same maids are, watching your brain being corrupted by sin. you’re so sinfully enjoying how sukuna’s cocks are penetrating you. “n-no, am—fnghh—don’t wanna,” you stammer, speaking to no one in particular. your inner desires clash with your rational mind and your body seems to continue its erotic act.

“don’t you fight it, woman,” sukuna brings your attention back by thrusting his cocks all the way up inside you, balls slapping harshly against your ass. he’s proud with his accomplishments. you’re slowly but surely being tainted by him and it’s so pleasing.

soon enough, that damned innocence of yours is going to disappear. he’s going to turn you into a total slut driven by lust, for him and only him. he’s going to ruin you and your body until all you can think of is the pleasure he can give you.

your nails dig into sukuna’s shoulders. you moan loudly, losing the battle, as expected. the king of curses just knows how to make you give in. he takes great pleasure in seeing you lose yourself, with everyone watching how he strips you from that innocence.

“stupid, nasty fuckin’ thing,” sukuna grunts as the lower pair of his arms hold you by your hips. he halts your movements before starting his own. “y’re mine, ya hear?” he pounds up into you—making you mewl. a chant of his name leaves your lips. you simply cannot stop yourself.

“yes, ‘m yours, my lord!” you moan for everyone to hear. the pink-haired man grins in satisfaction and quickly plunges his cocks in and out of your holes, needing to release himself so he could fully claim you as his in front of the rest.

his dirty cumslut, his tainted and brainless doll.

sukuna wraps all four arms around you, leaving no room for escape. he presses you against him until you’re struggling to breathe. your head is pushed against his shoulder and your insides are being turned into mush. the gooey fluids drip down onto the throne and down the floor.

“fuck. not a drop goes to waste or i’m fuckin’ ya again,” sukuna warns before shooting loads of cum into your womb and up your ass. both your holes are stuffed full of white, sticky semen mixed with your own release. you desperately clench around nothing once sukuna pulls you off his dicks.

you try to reach your hands out towards him as he manoeuvres your body away once he’s finished. the king of curses pins your wrists at your back so he can turn you around on his thighs, forcefully spreading your legs like a trophy he’s showing off on his throne.

one arm wraps around your waist and his chin rests on your right shoulder. sukuna keeps you on his lap and continues to act like he didn’t just completely wreck your insides.

while you’re left in the intense moment, he seems to have moved on already.

“speak,” sukuna orders the humans who’ve witnessed the whole ordeal. their foreheads are stuck on the floor—none of them daring to look up at the sight, like everyone else.

you’re panting and your head is spinning. you’re totally spent. sukuna holds your limp body up on his lap as one hand is busy scooping the excess cum back into your pussy, not wasting a drop like said before.

one of the villagers finally speaks up, stating the reason for their visit to the estate. their voice is muffled due to a loud buzzing in your ear. you’re tired and can’t focus on what’s said either. you just want to sleep. . . in sukuna’s warm embrace, filled and half-naked, for the entire room to see as they continue discussing business as if you’re not even there.

[uniformbravo]

i love tsurune i love tsurune i love tsurune i love tsurune i

[not-quite-normal]

what do you think the coolest thing you got to work on in the new spiderverse was? or was there anything you were completely geeked to work on/with?

definitely the coolest thing shot-wise that i got to work on was pavitr's entrance, i animated everything from when we first see him to when the camera zooms in on his face going into his comicbook backstory (this one!)

i helped with a couple aspects of pav's overall animation: his hair, his eye shapes, and playing with how he uses his bracelets in combination with his webs!

his hair is geo, meaning it doesn't get simmed by cfx because the directors wanted it to keep its graphic shape. so i designed some different hair blendshapes for modelling to create for us and worked with rigging on how to best incorporate the different shapes into the rig, then animated wind cycles for other animators to drop into their scenes. animating hair is not normally something that animators are expected to do in feature animation

his mask eyes, by default, came into shots looking very smooth and rounded. i referenced art done by one of the concept artists to give him "diamond shaped" eyes with more nicely weighted lines, along with several other library poses for animators to use so that they don't have to do all the shaping themselves (it took a long time because it required moving literally almost a hundred controls on each eye haha)

and finally, pavitr uses his webs with his bracelets to fight and get around! he uses his bracelet sort of like a spin top, keeping it spinning on his webs while standing still. i animated this first shot of him flicking it off his wrist:

my first pass on this didn't have that close up of the bracelet at first and our anim director, bob persichetti felt like we couldn't read it well enough and mentioned trying some crazier slow motion stuff like in RRR. so i went and watched RRR and immediately understood what i needed to do lol. i asked rohini kumar, another supervising animator on the movie, for some hindi onomatopoeia and she gave me this one, 'tadaak' which i'm told is sort of like a whack or pop!

[theostrophywife]

poison paradise.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: toxic by omido.

author's note: smutty unhinged theo won the poll. here’s your silly little treat. this came to me in a dream proving that even my subconscious isn't safe from theodore. this is pure filth, but ya'll already know that that's what i do best 🤪

The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your tongue as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Lost in euphoria, you cried out just as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, dragging you to the depths of sensual self-indulgence. 

Back arching off the bed. Fingers gripping the sheets. Moans echoing off the walls. 

This was hedonism at its finest. 

The heady scent of sweat, skin, and sex permeated in the air long after your orgasm passed, inducing you into a foggy haze as you scrambled to anchor yourself back to the present. Between your legs, your girlfriend lifted her head up with a pleased smirk and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. 

The kiss tasted like cum and cherries, a sweet and intoxicating combination that sent your head spinning. Hannah hummed, her pretty doe eyes focused on you while your own fluttered open. 

“Babe, I’ve really got to get to practice now,” she whispered softly. “I’m late enough as it is.” 

You chuckled, twirling a strand of her red hair between your fingers. “Whose fault is that? You’re the one who dragged me in here, love.” 

Hannah grinned sheepishly as she pulled your red and gold skirt down. “Can you blame me? I can’t control myself when you’re strutting about in your cheer uniform.” 

“Then go out there and give me something to cheer about, babe. I expect a win against Slytherin tomorrow.” 

“If Potter doesn’t kill me first for being late,” she said with a final kiss to your cheek. “See you after practice?”

You nodded as you tossed her jersey over. “I’ll be here.” 

After taking a much needed shower, you sat in front of the vanity and blasted music as you diligently adhered to your skincare routine. The best thing about having a girlfriend was that you shared everything. Since dating Hannah, your makeup, clothes, and shoe options doubled overnight. 

As you combed through your hair, a sudden knock at the door caught your attention. You figured it was just a courtesy from Hannah’s roommate. Merlin knows that the poor witch had walked in on you and your girlfriend in countless compromising positions. 

Tightening the scarlet robe around your waist, you sauntered over to the door, fully expecting Emma to greet you from the other side. Instead, a looming figure eclipsed the doorway. You were surprised to find none other than Theodore Nott staring back at you. 

While you two weren’t exactly the best of friends given the rivalry between your houses, you and Theo were civil. You sat beside each other in Herbology and occasionally shared a laugh every time you caught him muttering sarcastic remarks under his breath about the ridiculous bloody plants that Professor Sprout had you wrangling during class. 

“Well, what do we have here?” you teased, cocking your head at the dead eyed Slytherin. “A serpent in the lion’s den? What brings you behind enemy lines, Theo?”  

Theo smiled back in response, shuffling a bit and allowing a glimpse of the wine bottle and bouquet of roses cradled in his arms. “Waiting for my girlfriend to leave so I can set this up for our anniversary.” 

You grinned. “Oh, how romantic!” You had always been a sucker for cheesy gestures. It was the hopeless romantic in you.  “Come in, then.” 

To his credit, Theo kept his eyes firmly on your face as you ushered him inside the room. Taking the hint, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom and changed into something a little less revealing than your silk robe. When you came out, Theo was sprinkling rose petals on the bed. 

“Those are gorgeous,” you fawned over the flowers. “You’re definitely getting laid tonight.” 

Theo smirked in response as he set the vintage wine bottle into a fancy crystal ice bucket. “That’s the plan.” 

Slipping into your fuzzy slippers, you cocked your head at the arrangement. “Wait. I think you set it up on the wrong side. Emma’s bed is over there.” 

Theo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know. This is for Hannah.” 

Whatever warm, fuzzy feeling his sweet gesture invoked suddenly soured at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “What do you mean it’s for Hannah?” 

“Hannah,” Theo repeated slowly. “As in, my girlfriend, Hannah.” 

The words hit you like the Hogwarts Express. Surely, Theo was mistaken. He had to be. That was the only explanation. “This can’t be right. I’m sure I heard you wrong. You can’t be dating Hannah.” 

The confusion in your face was mirrored in Theo’s features. “And why is that?” 

“Because I’m dating Hannah.” 

Theo stared at you. You stared back. The room fell silent as the declaration hung heavy in the air. 

“Wait,” he backtracked, furrowing his brows. “What? That’s not possible.” 

“We’ve been dating since term started.” 

“We’ve been dating since summer,” Theo countered. Disbelief dawned over his handsome features. “This is for our three month anniversary.” 

Desperate to make sense of the situation, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photo album. It didn’t take long to find a recent picture of you and Hannah. “See?” you said, pointing at the screen. “This is us sharing a hot fudge sundae in Hogsmeade just last weekend.” 

Theo’s mouth gaped open as he pulled out his phone in response, scrolling through his pictures just as you had done moments ago. “This is us swimming in the lake last July.” 

The photo of your girlfriend smiling up at the camera while Theo’s arms wrapped around her bikini clad body made your stomach plummet. The confirmation left a bitter taste on your tongue. There was no reason for Theo to be making this up, which left only one possible conclusion. Hannah was dating both of you. At the same time. 

You pursed your lips. “Hannah played us both.” 

Theo looked about as dejected as you felt. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” he muttered to himself. 

“All that tension between you during the quidditch match,” you recalled. The lingering looks that Hannah and Theo shared during last month’s scrimmage flashed before your very eyes. In hindsight, it was obvious that there was more to it than rivalry. 

“You know, I think I saw her kiss you on the cheek in the halls once, but she said that the two of you were just really close.” 

“Oh, we are,” you said rather bitterly. “She’s kissed a lot more than my cheeks. Gods, how could I have been so stupid?” 

“You’re not stupid,” Theo said softly. “How could we have known? Outside of Herbology, the two of us don’t really interact. We’re in different houses and our social circles rarely overlap. If you think about it, it’s actually the perfect plan.” 

“Yes, bravo to our girlfriend for being the cleverest fucking liar in the castle.” You winced at the title. "Correction, ex-girlfriend."

Nott nodded in agreement. "Definitely ex-girlfriend."

"What a bloody mess."

Theo rubbed his temples. “Well, fuck.” The sentiment of total and utter confusion was one you knew all too well. “I am way too sober for this.” 

Without a word, he swiped the bottle of wine from the crystal bucket and popped it open. You stared at him with slight bewilderment, which he responded to with a nonchalant shrug. “What? It’s not like I’m going to drink this with Hannah now after I found out that she’s been lying to me for three whole months.” 

While Theo was taking the perfectly understandable approach of getting absolutely pissed off his arse, you weren’t willing to take the hit so easily. You were angry. Correction, you were fucking livid. Seething in the heat of your fury, you snatched the wine bottle from Theo’s grasp and chugged a good amount. 

“That’s a vintage from my family’s vineyard. You’re supposed to sip slowly to really appreciate the flavor—“ Theo grimaced as you leveled him with a glare. “Or drown yourself in it. That’s fine, too.” 

You swayed on your feet as you gestured dramatically. “I can’t believe she cheated on me!” 

Who the fuck did Hannah think she was? You didn’t need this bullshit. She was the one who chased after you. Before she pursued you, you were perfectly fine ruling this school under your thumb, flashing pretty smiles and innocent doe eyed looks to the unsuspecting masses. You were head cheerleader, for fuck’s sake! You could’ve had your pick of boys and girls in this whole bloody castle. Even worse, Hannah dragged Theo into this too. While the Slytherins certainly had a reputation, he seemed sweet if not a little sardonic and cynical at times.

”I can’t believe she cheated on you.” You added, surveying the now tainted roses and wine. Indignation weighed heavily on every word. You and Theo were both hot as fuck and a complete catch. Neither of you deserved this. “We can’t let her get away with this.” 

Theo sighed in response, taking the bottle from you and drinking a decent amount before wiping his wine stained lips with the back of his hand. “If I’m being honest, this isn’t the first time a relationship has imploded on me. Usually, it’s my fault. But I can’t say I’ve ever gotten cheated on. My ego’s taken a little bit of a blow, but what can we do? She fooled us both.” 

“What can we do?” You repeated incredulously. “Obviously, you haven’t dealt with a Gryffindor���s wrath before. This is a matter of pride, Theo. She hit us where it hurts the most. I say we hit her back.” 

Theo blanched, his watercolor eyes glazed from the alcohol. The wine was no joke. You never would’ve known it from the smooth taste, but this shit was strong. “As upset as I am, I hardly think violence is the answer. My mum told me to never raise a hand against a lady and I don’t intend on breaking that promise. No matter how angry I may be.” 

For the first time in that fucked up night, you managed a laugh. Something about that was so endearing to you. “Relax, Nott. I don’t mean we hurt her physically. That’s not really my style. I have a much more effective way to enact revenge.” Your lips curled into a smile as Theo hung onto every word. “We’re going to wage psychological warfare on our ex-girlfriend, Theo.” 

“I’ll confess I’m a little bit scared,” Theo declared as he gulped down the last of the wine. “And a little bit turned on. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?” 

You smirked as you retrieved the wine bottle and gingerly set it on the nightstand. Theo glanced up at you curiously, anticipation evident on his handsome face. “What exactly is the plan, dolcezza?” 

Whether it was the alcohol or your anger, a devious plan started forming as you looked over your ex-girlfriend’s now ex-boyfriend. “Hannah comes back from practice in an hour,” you stated, toying with the neck of the bottle. “She’s expecting to find me in bed waiting for her.” 

Mischief danced in Theo’s eyes. Up close, you could see flecks of green swimming in his blue irises. Those mesmerizing eyes—the very same ones that had the entire castle weak in the knees—locked on yours. Now that you were single through no fault of your own, you had no reason not to ogle Theo and ogle you did. Your gaze flickered over his lean physique, examining his solid chest and broad shoulders before snagging on the sliver of skin that revealed the hard abdominal muscles beneath his light grey shirt as he stretched. A cocky smirk graced his handsome face when he caught you looking.

Merlin, he was fucking pretty. 

How had you not noticed that before? Oh, right. You were too busy being a good girlfriend. Well, fuck that. 

“Oh?” He murmured, his gaze flickering over you. 

Though you changed into a baggy shirt and cotton shorts, you might as well have been naked with the way Theo was looking at you. His dead eyed stare burned holes into your skin and a shiver crawled up your spine as he gravitated closer. 

“And she will,” you said with a smirk, closing the gap between you. “You’ll just be in it with me.” 

“Oh,” Theo hummed salaciously. 

“Wouldn’t wanna waste those pretty roses you got, do we?” 

The low rasp of your voice seemed to entrance Theo as he shook his head, appearing dazed as you pulled him in by the front of his shirt. “No, no at all. We should…” The nervous bob of his Adam’s apple sent a thrill through your body. “We should definitely make use of them.” 

With a grin, you led him towards the bed. Theo walked backwards, his eyes never leaving yours even as he landed on the mattress. The golden glow of the lamp kissed his sharp cheekbones, its warm hue coloring the slope of his nose, which were smattered with moles and freckles, before emphasizing his wine stained lips. The red roses fluttered around him as the bed dipped, soft petals tickling his skin as he settled against the headboard.

Theo felt like he was under a spell as you crawled over him. He couldn’t tell whether he was dizzy from the wine or if it was just the effect you had on him, but either way, he wasn’t complaining. There were worse things to suffer from than a pretty witch straddling his lap. 

Instinctively, Theo gripped your waist while you settled over him. The sight of you leaning over him, your face mere inches away from his felt like a fever dream. One that he had no desire of waking up from. 

“I thought you liked girls,” Theo whispered softly as your lips brushed over his. Teasing, taunting, tasting. Fuck, what he would give to have you devour him whole. 

“I do,” you replied, tickling his cheek with a rose petal. Theo shivered as the low rasp of your voice pulled him in. “But I like boys too. Especially pretty ones like you.” 

Theo couldn’t help but blush. Obviously, he was aware that he was attractive, but he’d never been called pretty before. He was surprised to find that he really fucking liked it. 

“Don’t flatter me, dolcezza. Not unless you plan on following through.”

“I’ve never been with a Slytherin before,” you whispered huskily. “Tell me, Theo. Will you sink your teeth into me tonight?”

A part of him pondered the slightly fucked up situation that Theo managed to get himself into tonight. Was he really about to fuck his ex-girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend in her own bed? Yes. Did he feel an ounce of guilt over what he was about to do? No. 

Honestly, fuck Hannah. But more importantly, Theo needed to focus on fucking you. 

“Fuck yes.”

When you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, it was over. There wasn’t a single trace of self control in him as he kissed back, his mouth hot and eager against yours. The infamous Gryffindor boldness didn’t disappoint as you moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his silky brown waves before tugging in a way that made Theo weak in the knees. As he parted your lips with his tongue, you grinded against him and laughed seductively when he whimpered in response. 

“Yeah?” you purred as you rolled your hips. “You like that, pretty boy?” 

“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo groaned before he kissed you again, rougher this time. 

There was something satisfying about the way he grabbed you, his big hands guiding you to grind over him, providing a delicious friction between your clothed sex. Theo was hard and throbbing underneath you. By the feel of him, you knew you were in for a ride. The sheer size of him was going to absolutely destroy you. 

You pulled away and a glistening trail of spit extended between you as a result of your sloppy make out. Theo panted as you tugged at the hem of his shirt, keeping your eyes trained on him while you licked a path down his abdomen. He watched hungrily as you grazed your teeth over his hard muscles, flicking your tongue expertly while he shuddered underneath you. 

“I can see why Hannah went for you,” you hummed against his tan skin. “You’re hot as fuck. Your abs are unreal and your happy trail,” Theo groaned as you pressed soft kisses along his torso. “It leads to something delicious, doesn’t it?” 

“Fuck, bella. You’re killing me,” Theo groaned as he fisted your hair in one hand. The whimper that slipped past his lips as you palmed his cock was utterly shameless. “You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth, Y/N.” 

“Yeah? Shut me up, then.” 

His head lolled back against the headboard as you released his cock from his boxers, stroking purposefully and savoring the filthy moans that echoed against the walls. Those pretty eyes of his were nearly black with lust as he looked down at you, biting his lip while your tongue swirled over the head of his cock. Licking up his precum, you smirked before fully wrapping your lips around him. 

Theo tugged at your hair and bucked against your mouth as you sucked, licked, and pumped every inch of his thick, hard cock. You knew you were good, but the desperation in Theo’s voice all but confirmed it. 

“Dio mio, right there. Fuck, you’re perfect. Your throat was made to be fucked. You can take it, bella. Choke on my cock, just like that.”

You gagged as he hit the back of your throat. Sucking dick had never been your favorite, but sucking Theo’s dick was something else. He looked so pretty with his waves plastered to his forehead, rosy cheeks flushed as he fucked your face with a dominance that had you growing wetter by the second. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you choked on his cock, but it was worth every second to hear Theo moan your name. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” hissed Theo after a particularly rough thrust. You could tell he was close by the way his body seized underneath you, but you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted more and so did he. “So fucking close, but I don’t want to come yet. I need…Fuck, I need more.” 

You released him with a pop, but kept stroking him with your right hand. “Use your words, pretty boy.” 

“I want to feel you,” Theo whined. “I need to feel your pussy clenching around my cock, principessa. I need you so fucking bad. I’d get on my knees to be inside of you. Please.” 

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” you said as you kissed his temple. “Who am I to refuse?” 

Theo watched as you shuffled above him, barely breathing as you slipped out of your clothes. When you threw your shirt off, Theo cursed to find you completely bare before him. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples before wrapping his lips around them. You could tell he was eager to please and that alone was a huge fucking turn on. It was rare to find a man who cared about pleasure beyond his own, which is why you usually preferred women. Theodore Nott seemed to be the exception. 

With rapt attention, Theo helped you lower down onto his length. He kept his eyes on you as you adjusted, gasping when your walls stretched to accommodate his size. 

“You know, I thought the rumors about you were exaggerated,” you groaned as you sank lower. “But I’ve never been so glad to be wrong.” 

Theo smirked as he nibbled at your earlobe. “What kind of rumors, dolcezza?” 

“That you had a huge dick,” you responded, sounding slightly winded once Theo was finally fully sheathed inside of you. “And that you fuck like a—“ You moaned when Theo shifted his hips to rut into you. He was so big that the minuscule movement felt like you were being split apart. 

“That I fuck like what, bella?” 

Never one to be outdone, you tugged at his hair and grinded against him. “That you fuck like an absolute demon.” 

“Yeah?” He drawled, sliding in and out of you with a cocky smirk. “Well, you’re no angel either, Y/N.” 

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Theo.” 

The sight of you bouncing on his cock and riding the fuck out of him was almost too much. Theo was mesmerized as you used him to get off, head thrown back as you placed your hands on either side of his legs before bending in an angle that he wasn’t even sure was possible for a human to contort to. 

Damn, he should’ve fucked a cheerleader sooner. He should’ve fucked you sooner. 

“I guess you’re not the only one who listened to the rumors. They said you were flexible, but goddamn, this is something else. You’re something else, Y/N.” 

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you keened as you gripped the sheets. “You’re so big. It feels so fucking good, baby.” 

“I like the way you moan my name,” he said. “Gods, I could’ve had this all along. Why was I even wasting my time with Hannah? Sei una fottuta dea.” 

“I have no idea what you just said,'' you panted, picking up the pace. Your legs ached from the effort, but it felt too good to stop. “But I’m soaked now.” 

“I said,” Theo grunted as he fucked up into you and tugged your hair back. “You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N.” 

When he rubbed circles on your clit, you absolutely lost it. The room spiraled around you as you came hard, creaming Theo from tip to base. He pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss of contact until he replaced his cock with his mouth. Theo flattened his tongue, licking up along your soaked folds. His nose brushed against your already sensitive clit and you cried out as he lapped you up like a man starved. 

“Can’t take anymore,” you whined, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you pushed against Theo’s broad shoulders. “It’s too much. I’m so sensitive.” 

Theo gripped your ankles and spread your legs wider. “Where’s that Gryffindor bravery, bella?” He chuckled, tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. His mouth glistened with your cum and rose petals stuck to his skin as he looked up at you. “Surely you can take more. We barely just started. I want you drenched in tears. Shaking, crying, and moaning my name. Right now, you’re not even close.” 

He sucked on your clit and you swore to Godric your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw heaven. Theo was determined to drive you to the brink of insanity. “I know you want it, baby. Let me make you feel good.” 

“Oh gods,” you cried out as he filled you with two fingers. It wasn’t as much of a stretch as his cock, but the way he curled them inside of you, touching that sensitive spongy spot within your walls made you whimper all the same. “Fuck, yes, gods. I want it. I want you, Theo.” 

A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before Theo flipped you over, pressing you headfirst into the pillows as he feasted on your pussy from behind. There wasn’t a single thought in your head as he unraveled you with his tongue and fingers. It was a deadly combination that had you on the edge quicker than you thought possible. 

“Turn around, principessa,” Theo cooed. “Come ride my face.” 

For Godric’s fucking sake. The man was absolutely insatiable. You liked to think that you had excellent stamina. Most of the time your partners struggled to keep up with your pace, but Theo was seriously challenging that. You didn’t know if you could come three times in a row without passing out, but tonight was as good as any to find out. 

Theo rewarded you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss before positioning your thighs on either side of his head. You held onto the headboard above him. Part of it was for balance, but mostly to keep yourself from collapsing all together. You felt so overstimulated that the line between pleasure and pain was blurring by the minute, but still, neither one of you had any plans of stopping. 

At this point, you actually couldn’t give less of a fuck about revenge. Hannah had long become a thing of the past. It seemed ironic that you and your ex-girlfriend were in this exact position mere hours ago yet you couldn’t even recall anything past the Slytherin fucking you with his tongue. 

“Theo, oh my fucking gods,” you cried out as you grinded against his mouth. “Right there. Yes, that’s it. So good.” Theo squeezed your thighs in response, which elicited a hoarse laugh out of you. “You like when I praise you, pretty boy?” 

Theo hummed against your clit and squeezed your ass in confirmation. “You’re so pretty when you’re eating my pussy,” you cooed, brushing his wavy locks back. “But you’re even prettier when you’re fucking me.” 

That seemed to be all the encouragement Theo needed. Before you knew it, your back was against the mattress as he hiked your legs over your shoulder. Theo slipped in easily, thanks to the juices coating both his tongue and cock now that he was filling you up again. 

“How’s the view now, principessa?” Theo asked with a cocky smirk. 

You bit your lip as he pounded into you, holding your gaze with every sharp thrust. His tanned skin glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed while he buried himself inside of you again and again, watching you take all of him with rapt attention. His balls slapped against your ass every time his hips snapped to yours, drilling so deep that you struggled for words.

“The best in the castle,” you quipped back, putting on a serene smile as Theo grunted and fucked any and every coherent thought right out of you. 

Neither one of you noticed the door opening nor the sound of the broom hitting the floor. You were too busy staring into Theo’s pretty eyes to care. 

He turned your head towards the door, but didn’t stop fucking you as Hannah watched with her mouth hung wide open. Theo made sure that your ex-girlfriend had a clear view of the money shot as he claimed you with his mouth, moaning your name against your lips as he came with a loud cry. He filled you to the brim and you could feel him leaking out of you and onto the sheets as your eyes rolled back.

Theo collapsed on top of you, sweaty and sinful. As you lay boneless and blissed out of your mind, you couldn’t quite believe that you’d just fucked your ex-girlfriend’s ex boyfriend. In her own bed, nonetheless. If that wasn’t poetic justice, you didn’t know what was. Merlin, you hadn’t gotten shagged like that in—well, ever. The Slytherin really knew how to slither in. You lifted your head to find Theo already looking at you. When you made eye contact, the two of you burst into laughter.

Your ex-girlfriend, on the other hand, was not as amused. “What the fuck!” Hannah screamed. 

Her shrill voice brought you out of the post haze aftermath of your earth shattering orgasm. Completely unbothered, you stretched lazily and waved your fingers at Hannah. Theo smirked as he tugged his sweatpants back on, but opted to remain shirtless as he pulled his oversized shirt over your head like a proper gentleman. You were grateful, since you had absolutely no desire to walk around in your ex-girlfriend’s clothes. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Theo looked absolutely delicious from the afterglow.

You bit your lip, already thinking of all the ways you’d like to have him. Again and again. As often as possible.

With a little smile, you met Theo’s gaze. It was clear that neither of you had any intention of calling it an early night. You had a feeling that you had a lot of sleepless nights ahead of you. Theo looked like he wanted to tear you apart and you were more than willing to let him. “My dorm?” 

“Whatever you say, dolcezza,” Theo said as he slipped his fingers through yours. “You could lead me off the astronomy tower and I’d follow.” 

Theo didn’t bother looking at Hannah as the two of you passed her. You, on the other hand, couldn’t pass up the chance to get the last word in. 

“By the way, we’re breaking up with you. Have fun cleaning up the mess.” 

Theo chuckled darkly as he tugged you out into the hallway, smacking your arse as the two of you raced back to your dorm. Behind you, your long forgotten ex-girlfriend gaped as she watched her ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend walk away hand in hand.

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

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[dmitriene]

getting overstimulated during sex with john price, when everything falls on you with a too heavy weight of emotions, the feel of his bulky, hairy chest flush behind your arching back, skin dewy with sweat as his cock pistons in and out of your gooey pussy, gummy walls snug and pulsing around his fat, throbbing girth, slick pooling down like honey.

john's wide hips twist, canting them to jam the wet ridge of his cockhead against your spongy spot, his cock throbbing, jerking in the tightness of your cunt, each wet slide of his girth follow by lewd, squelching sounds that buzz through your ears, your plush ass bouncing against his hips with rapid slap.

it's when his hips stutter, hand banded around your stomach, where his thick fingers press into the softness of your skin, your tummy clenching with swirling, gut longed heat, john's movements turning jerky, sloppy as he fucks you in small circles, catching onto the same sweet spot that make you cry out sobbed wails of pleasure, silenced by his mouth as he feeds on your mewled sounds.

john's tongue deep in your mouth, licking across your teeth's and tongue, suckling at your spit soaked lips, eyes flat with glistening blue as he peers at your dazed gaze, unable to keep up with his hungry, sloppy kisses, the silken walls of your pussy clenching tight, his beard itching on the skin of your face, as you twitch and twist with the curl of your toes.

his cock spills in you, flooding your dripping pussy with thick ropes of cum, hips still rolling to pump your gooey hole full, so wet that your gushing, saccharine slick coats his veiny length with glistening strings of your cum, smearing across his thick pubic hair, holding him inside in a pulsing, fluttering vice.

only then does john, as well as you, notice the glazed, watery state of your lidded eyes, just before the beading, salty tears that spill down to your cheeks, every muscle in your body starting convulsing with exhaustion, and he lowers you on the sheets immediately, heavy hands wrapped around your waist securely as he cradles you tightly against him, cocoing you in his warmth.

you don't see the worried glint of his vivid eyes through your tears, his eyebrows scrunching in a frown, lips pulled tight together after he wets them with his tongue, cleaning your combined spit from the heated kisses, as he rocks you carefully, his cock still carved inside of you, even through softened by the sudden change in atmosphere, as john holds you delicately.

john doesn't need you to say a word, he knows that it's too much, making you lean gently against his soft, sturdy chest until your sobs and small hiccups subside, leaving only a small shakes in your body and sniffing, splotchy nose, his wet lips brushing loving kisses all over your tear straked face, every hoarse word from his mouth turning into a lulling croon.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[pure-smut]

sleepy.

featuring: Seishiro Nagi x f!reader

contains: established relationship, sleepy s*x, creampie

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 460

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Seishiro Nagi loves only one thing more than sleep – waking up next to you.

At any other point in the day, it’s a chore to get him to do anything. He’d much rather play games or nap, ignoring everything around him. But every morning, he wakes up slowly, his arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest, and his cock stirs.

You’re both on your sides, facing each other, your face pressed against his warm chest. He insists on sleeping naked, a habit he picked up from Blue Lock with Bachira, so you feel his morning wood pressing against your stomach. Nagi moans lightly, hips circling as his hand trails down to your bare thigh.

You’re still half-asleep yourself but the feel of Nagi’s large hand scooping up your leg, pulling it over his hip so he can access you better, makes your pussy flutter with arousal. You keep your face buried against his chest, arms wrapped around him to feel the hard muscle of his back. Nagi rests his cheek on the top of your head, humming sleepily.

You feel the pressure of his cock pressing against your entrance and pull yourself tighter to Nagi, using him as an anchor. Your head is still clouded with sleep and you feel so comfortable and warm in your boyfriend’s arms.

With a content sigh, Nagi pushes himself inside you, his grip tightening on you ever so slightly. Your hot, welcoming pussy envelopes him, pulling him in.

“Mmm,” he mumbles against your hair, lazily enjoying the feel of you.

He can’t get too deep at this angle but neither of you mind. Nagi strokes himself in and out of you, his hand on the flesh of your ass as he holds you to him. The trimmed hair at the base of his cock rubs a delicious friction against your clit, making your pussy drool around his girth.

Nagi doesn’t rush – he never does – instead keeping a steady, languid pace. His semi-shallow strokes feel amazing against the nerves inside you, combining with the stimulation on your clit to bring you close to orgasm. You hold onto Nagi tighter, moaning lightly into his chest.

“Feels s’good…” you sigh.

Nagi can feel you getting closer and it urges on his own orgasm. Your slick walls clamp down around him, sucking him in as you quietly, sleepily cream on his cock. Nagi’s breathing gets shallower, his fingers digging into your hip. He lets out a long, low moan as he spills his cum inside you. You feel it, hot and sticky, leaking out around his softening cock.

There’s a mess between you now but neither of you wants to move. Nagi’s breathing slows and your instinctively matches him. It’s only a minute or two later when you both fall asleep again.

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