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dreamii-yume · 6 months

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(Pretends that I haven’t been gone for over 8 months)

It is time to eat! 🗣🔥 I have returned! …And what did I miss? 🫡 Not much? Okay, that’s good lol

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Toge Inumaki (Jujutsu Kaisen)

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

“I’m sorry for not being there to accompany you with your mission, Inumaki-senpai.” Gentle hands ran down his somewhat swollen cheek, before the cold, yet delicate texture of a gauze replaces it and eases the sting. “Dr. Ieiri needed me for something, and it was a priority mission, so…”

“Salmon Roe.” Toge Inumaki replied, almost immediately—Holding out his hand to cut you off as if he already knew that you were about to go on a tangent. For the inexperienced, conversation without words are something of an impossible feat, but for the years that he was mentoring you, Inumaki has gotten confident of your understanding skills. It’s kind of learning process that most of his friends developed overtime, so he’s never worried that both of you would have some form of miscommunication anytime soon.

With that said, you sighed in relief at his innocent gesture. “…Alright, then please allow me to at least use my curse technique on you.” You suggested, but the moment Inumaki felt your cursed energy spiked in an incredible amount, he knew he didn’t have a choice anyway. Not only because it was your job, but he never planned to refuse your technique if you give him a chance to experience it. Just from this close distance alone, he could practically melt at the feeling—Like a warm fire in a winter night, gently embracing his body in a comforting manner.

“…Salmon.”

Rejuvenation as they call it…An innate cursed technique that you’ve developed while you were studying with him at Jujutsu Tokyo High. It’s not much when it comes to combat, since its only special feature is, as the name suggest, rejuvenation—The power to replenish the user’s body of lost cursed energy, and ultimately cutting back whatever physical consequences of the user’s cursed technique is. It was a shame that by Jujutsu regulations, it was considered a “cursed” technique like everyone else’s when in truth, it can very well be compared to a blessing in disguise for people like him.

Call it a senior’s pride or something like that, but Inumaki thoroughly believed that you’ve naturally developed a technique that he can greatly appreciate because he was the one who raised you better as a sorcerer than your own teacher ever did.

To think that you were but an ordinary civilian when you came in here felt like a fever dream. No relations to curses, sorcerers, or anything—Just a rare case of a normal person possessing a higher cursed energy than most people that they were able to see curses from a very young age. You were a chick fresh out of the egg when you arrived, an outsider to the world of Jujutsu, and Inumaki back then just found himself teaching you on a whim.

He loves watching you use your curse technique a lot more than he could ever admit—The control you have on your breathing, heart rate, and flow of curse energy was spectacular. You always make sure that you won’t hurt yourself in the process by giving too much, but at the same time, you knew exactly how much a current person needs for a complete rejuvenation. His favorite part had always been when you’re done, the way your eyes would snap back into your normal cheerful self after being in a trance like nothing happened. It never fails to make him smile.

”…Well, do you feel a lot better? Is there anything else I could help you with?” Your voice quickly got Inumaki back on high alert as he was in a trance himself. He just couldn’t help it sometimes; he could feel your cursed energy flowing in him in just the right amount that it was way too comfortable to just ignore.

Inumaki tilts his neck in a snap, feeling a satisfying crack from each side before giving you a thumbs up. “Pollock Roe.” He said with confidence to mask the embarrassment he feels inside. He would never say it straight to your face, but as someone who receives this treatment from you a lot, it’s not much of an exaggeration to say that he was addicted to the feeling. He’s a bit…sensitive on how you will react to this information, so he’ll keep it to himself for now.

“Well, that’s great then~!” You said, as he felt your observant eyes on him again—Constantly looking for any injury you might’ve missed, but your work was as flawless as ever. “At this point, please just get plenty of rest as always. If you notice anything else that feels wrong, please refer to Dr. Ieiri as soon as possible.”

Inumaki couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the way you speak during work mode, it’s professional but it just wasn’t the normal cheeky junior he knew. So, with a mischievous look on his face, Inumaki pulled on your cheek slightly with judging eyes. “Mustard Leaf~?” He teased as you flinched at the contact.

“Ow, ow!” You exclaimed, yelping like a kicked animal until Inumaki let go eventually. In an instant, you pouted and rubbed on your slightly reddened cheek. “W-What was that for, seriously…!?”

Inumaki only pointed at you nonchalantly with two fingers. “Tuna, Tuna.” He stuck out his tongue which only puts an irritated vein on your forehead—But somehow, you knew what he was trying to say.

Instead of snapping like how you originally planned, you sighed. “I know, I know…” You said, eventually smiling in defeat. “But it’s work, you know? I have to be prim and proper when it comes to work.”

Inumaki hummed, eyes glancing to the side as if he hadn’t learned his lessons at all—In fact, he just wanted to catch your attention, that’s all. “…And you should be careful around your own work too!” Then came in you scolding him in the end. “Please stop rupturing your vocal cords every time you go on missions! I am not treating you next time, do you hear!?”

“Salmon Roe~” He heard what you said, but it was like the words go through one ear and escaped to the other—He didn’t have any intention of listening to your advice at all. If rupturing his vocal cords was the minimum requirement to come visit you again, then so be it…Besides, he knows you’re lying anyways. He just can’t see you refusing service to anyone who’s in need of help, what more of it if it was him?

“Ugh, why do I feel like you’re not taking me seriously at all…?” You grumbled under your breath but ending up shaking your head anyways. Eventually though, you smiled in a silly manner, just what Inumaki was hoping for. “No, whatever…Just have a good day, Senpai.”

Hearing that, Inumaki finally gave you his famous close-eyed smile to show his excitement. “Salmon~!” He replied enthusiastically after seeing that familiar attitude of yours for the day and quickly pat your head. You giggled as he hopped off the bed, raising his hand slightly to wave at you as he headed out for the door. “…Kelp.”

With one last smile, you waved back at him before going back to your desk, probably checking for the mission you’re assigned to next.

Honestly, for someone who came from humble beginnings, you were making quite the name for yourself as a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world. Non-combatant cursed techniques are rare as it is, and for someone to have one that defies the very definition of a curse and turning it into something of a blessing—It’s no wonder you are highly valued by the higher-ups. It’s hard to imagine that just a few years ago, you were someone relatively unknown and though you did had some help from the teachers like all other students, you still had to teach yourself on how to differentiate between what is a curse and what is not.

Regardless, Inumaki can freely shrug about it now—He was glad you developed a technique that was beneficial to him, and that’s all it matters. You were good friends, on top of being senior and junior back in school, so your relationship with him was undoubtedly better than the rest. Maybe he’s a bit boastful about it, because who wouldn’t want to come home from a long and exhausting mission, only to lay down and be doted on by your cursed technique?

The feeling of a sore throat has been something of a wild fantasy to him ever since you mastered your craft, so what else was there to complain about?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Hornii?

This Sinfic was in one of my WIPs folder (Yes, I have a folder full of unfinished Sinfics and ideas ☠️ I’m a loser) and I had to travel back to the memory lane on what kind of plot I was trying to cook 8 months ago 😭

I think my goal was to write a Sinfic is that proves that dialogue is not at all needed when it comes to fucked-up love ♥︎

#jujutsu kaisen #toge inumaki #yandere #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere toge inumaki #sinfic #spicy dream

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looseratinthegarage · 2 years

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⚠️THE MOST NSFW IVE EVER POSTED⚠️

🔞Minors DNI🔞

Dream I just had 👀:

I was on my back in a rickety old barn. Hay was getting stuck in my hair along with dirt and a bit of dust. I was completely bare in front of him. He moved closer to me and and lifted my legs onto his lap. He sat make and admired my body, my face heated up and I whined. I started rubbing against him. He growled and stoped my hips from moving. He raises his hand and for a brief moment I was confused, he brought it down, spanking me. I whimper and my eyes start to water at the sting. He leans onto me, with one hand carefully swipes my tears away and the other rubs my marked ass. I feel his bulge, it was huge- he reaches for his pants and starts undoing the buckle painfully slowly. I whine and pout up at him, he chuckles, takes it off and sets it aside. He unbuttoned his pants and started pulling on the zipper, but stopped abruptly.

“Tommyyyy!” I whine and try to get any friction or sense of relief.

He simply smiled at my intense need for him, then finished pulling his zipper down. He reached into his pants and with a groan pulled out his-

Welp, that’s it boys and girls! The rest is just for me and dream tommy ;)

#i love this man with my entire being #would actually die for him #spicy dream #slashers #horror #slasher community #slasher x reader #slashers x reader

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writerofthewinds · 2 years

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I am so pissed .

I was having a very spicy dream with Brett Talbot from teen wolf .

I was about to suck his dick .

When i woke up .

This gives me a fic idea since i remember my dream in detail.

Who is interested ?

#male reader #teen wolf #story prompt #spicy writing #spicy content #spicy dream #brett talbot

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rudiedelrey · 2 years

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I had a strange dream about this version of Keanu from Dracula. But instead of being Jonathan harker, he was THE vampire. And he looked so dangerous, so beautiful. He had lured me into a dark garden and pulled my neck back against a column. I remember feeling like i was drunk on the sight of him. His smile was just so melting. He was kissing my neck. I knew what was coming but I couldn’t stop it, and i felt the fangs about to sink in. I was trapped…. And then I woke up with a blanket right around my neck. 💀 i was mad as hell guys. Do you think i should make this into a one shot fan fiction? You know…. For the sake of spooky season?

#keanu reeves #dracula #bram stoker's dracula #vampire #spicy dream

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xmaplemistyx · 5 days

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I need an honest answer... tits or ass? 💞😇

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vavoom-sorted-art · 3 months

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Sweet Dreams - Part II

Previously

#Vavoom Sweet Dreams

#vavoom sweet dreams #good omens #ineffable smut war #vavoom smut war #good omens fanart #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #art #vavoomart #vavoomcomic #nsft #suggestive #cw nsft #spicy omens #spicy #spicy content #soft somno #somno

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nachkittykat · 2 years

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You ever wake up from a spicy dream and immediately go "Huh I didn't know that I was into that." Because I absolutely had that happen the other day. Not sure if it was religious trauma or kinkiness that had me dreaming of a satanic pope pulling my hair and holding a lit match close to my neck while singing "Mary On A Cross" but I'm not mad about it.

#spicy dream #like huh #new kink unlocked #mary on a cross #18+#adult things

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underdark-dreams · 2 months

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This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?

Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!

Rolan x afab!Tav

Birds and Bees - Ch.1

The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.

Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]

Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog.

He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.

He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.

The dreams featuring Tav, however…

Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.

She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least.

Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.

“You look awful.”

“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.

“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”

“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”

Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.

“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”

Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.

“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”

Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”

Cal walked off with a snort.

Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.

He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.

It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.

Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.

“Lovely morning, isn't it?”

Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.

“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.

“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest.

Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.

“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”

“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.

“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.

Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.

“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”

Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”

“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.

Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.

—

Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.

Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”

Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”

“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.

Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”

The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.

“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.

“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”

“Who can?”

Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.

“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”

Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”

Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.

For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery.

Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.

Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.

“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I could make you something for that, if you like.”

He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”

“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”

Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”

There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.

“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”

“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.

Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.”

There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.

It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?

Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.

It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.

But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?

The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.

That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship.

And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.

Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.

“Noblestalk propagation?”

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.

“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”

Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find.

Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.

“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—

“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”

“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”

“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”

As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short.

Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.

When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.

Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.

“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”

Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes.

“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.

Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster.

She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand.

—

Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.

Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking.

He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure.

It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?

He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.

As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.

“Are you wearing scent?”

Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.

With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures.

The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.

A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”

Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression.

To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.

With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.

An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.

The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself.

As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.

“Need a book from the library—”

Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.

Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.

Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.

How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.

Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.

Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable.

But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?

It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years.

Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?

As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—

Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav

The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page.

Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?

That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.

Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss.

Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.

#spicy #rolan x tav #tiefling ruts #eventual smut #bg3 rolan #female tav #heat/rut cycles #rebgrrl writes #underdark-dreams #bg3 fanfiction #tiefling biology

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dreamii-yume · 1 year

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Hi, long time no see!

I’m Yume :DD and here’s some freshly new Hornii for all of you! Blue Lock is an anime that I started watching two weeks ago and read the manga immediately right after episode one, but was really sad when it’s Yandere Non-Con tag is pretty much empty right now.

So, I wanted to contribute a little 👀

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Nagi Seishirou [Blue Lock]

♥︎ Warnings ♥︎

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

All his life, Nagi Seishirou had been taken care of by others.

His talent that even he couldn’t understand himself intrigued other people but himself and thus, had always been someone else’s “treasure” rather than his own. He was an entertainer who was spoiled rotten in exchange for some mediocre performance, enough to satisfy an audience who are just as boring as the last. Maybe Blue Lock has changed him in some way, learned a few things about winning and losing, and earned a dream he wanted to achieve—

But looking back at his former performances, as impressive as it is for the public’s eye, none of his “skills” were actually cultivated to be his own. There was always someone who did it for him—Reo, Isagi, Prince…But never had any of them belonged and created by Nagi Seishirou himself.

…And that’s fine, right? It can’t be helped that maybe he’s just meant to be like this, both in football and other things. There was no need to destroy his own mentality in order to create something that he’s not, right? Because results are everything, and as long as someone else is there to make him show the extent of his talent, Nagi Seishirou is powerful.

It was satisfaction, it was the kind of fun he was looking for in football…until the day came where he finally got a feel of what it’s like to hold that reign of control to someone more incompetent than he is.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Hornii~?

I just want to let this out of my chest, please let Blue Lock blow up in the Yandere Non-Con community before the potential dies 🥺 It’s been a while since I wrote a full Sinfic so I’m a bit rusty, be patient with me please 🙏✨

Thank you~! Anyways, I need to do my homework now, see you in about two hours ☠️

#blue lock #yandere blue lock #nagi seishiro #yandere nagi seishirou #Sinfic #Spicy Dream

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hyuckfull · 11 months

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haechan’s fucking you and your eyes are rolled to the back of your head from how rough he’s being. all the while, he’s smiling at how much you’re so affected by him.

the girth of his cock deliciously embraced by the wet-warm feeling of your tight cunt around him. and you call for his name in every sharp thrust.

he is so amused by you. that you’re so sensitive to him. even just the feeling of his breath tickling your neck has you clenching even tighter around him.

and even when you’ve came he’s still going at it, using his thumb to further overstimulate you as your start to gush on his cock. he teases, “baby, you’re just so cute when i’m making you cum.” and you’re still cumming.

your hands are cupping his cheeks, looking at him with a blurry vision as your try to lean in to kiss him. and he’d coo, leaning in to kiss you himself, continuing to fuck you. he just thinks it’s so cute even when he hasn’t given you a chance to calm down from your high, and you still want to kiss him. “you’re so perfect baby.” he mumbles through the kiss.

your legs shake from the sensitivity, you’re overstimulated. and yet you pull him to your embrace, wanting even more.

#haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct hard hours #nct haechan smut #nct 127 hard hours #haechan scenarios #꒰੭⸝⸝´`⸝⸝꒱੭ by minnie ! ♡#spicy ! ❤︎⠀ྀི ࣪ ˖

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that-dumb-dinosaur · 1 year

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something something Belos melting in the rain just like the Wicked Witch of the West

#yea ik the rain is spicy or whatever #BUT HE MELTED. LIKE AN ICONIC WITCH. THE VERY THING HE SWORE TO DESTROY #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #watching and dreaming #the owl house #toh #trexi pterodactyl screeches

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emma5455 · 2 days

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You buy my dropbox or google drive?

my dropbox or google drive $50

google chat: [email protected]

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vavoom-sorted-art · 3 months

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Sweet Dreams - Part I

Part II

The beginning is soft and sweet, but things are heating up quickly... (Psst! Part II is already out on Patreon!)

Done for the ineffable smut war over on @goodomensafterdark!

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birdkatze · 2 months

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"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader

Future pairings = poly 141 x reader

Chapter pairings = none this chapter

Words = 1.2k

[Chapter 2]

Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.

EXPLICIT under the cut

Groaning as your alarm wakes you, you glance over while hitting the snooze button. It was 7:30 in the morning and you had to get up. Sleepily you remember that you were moving today. Blearily you rub your eyes and contemplate getting up at all. However, you couldn’t delay since tomorrow the people who bought your house would be moving in.

Struggling to stand up as every muscle in your body ached and pulled on itself, it was as if they didn’t sit right in your skin. Your tummy aches and burns, and the scar from the dog bite that you had gotten on your wrist as a teen pulled and burned like a brand, you were almost in tears as you grabbed the outfit you set out. It was a simple t-shirt and jeans.

Everything else was pretty much ready for the movers. You grabbed your heated blanket, three sleep stuffies, and your blankie picking them all up with care and putting them in the front seat of your car. You just lean against your car for a moment and bask in the cool morning air. It would be nice to leave the city behind, it was a blessing your job could be done remotely as a freelance accountant.

The morning felt never ending as the movers loaded everything up in their truck and you managed to get on the road. The pain you felt only got worse even with tylenol and ibuprofen. It was agonizing and you couldn’t take anything stronger till the end of the day when you unpacked some of your stuff and were off the road.

After a few hours you and the moving truck reach your new home, it was a good size cottage with a garden in the back. It looked like it was going to fall apart in a few places but you had been on the phone with a contractor that would help get it all sorted. It also was against a mountain and had forest surrounding it, the chirping of birds felt comforting as you looked around. It was about an hour from the nearest ‘big’ town and was right on the border of a national park. It would be a nice place to raise a family, if you ever got around to it. Although, at your age that most likely was out of the cards. It was stunning and eased the longing feeling for the forest.

Breathing in the scent of pine you almost moan, you already felt at home. Your body relaxes and the pain dulls to a barely-there ache. You help the movers the best you can, pointing to what went to each room, with their help you put away the small things and they move in the larger things.

The moving company finished moving everything in and you were finally able to lay down and take some real medication. Your doctor had prescribed muscle relaxers, they didn’t ease the ache much and really only put you to sleep, but it was better than writhing in agony all night.

The doctors claimed it was just due to your age seeing as you were getting older. You didn't believe it since the pain had been plaguing you for decades since you were in your late teens. It made no sense seeing as your body still seemed the same as it was when you were eighteen, you didn’t even have gray hair or wrinkles yet!

Grabbing your heated blanket and medication you climb into bed, taking your meds and then laying down your body is wracked with agony. You gasp and moan in pain, you writhe as your bones and muscles pull and burn. Howling in pain as your body feels like it's on fire. You curl up in the fetal position and sob loudly.

Gasping you still cry, grabbing your heated blanket you put it on max heat and pray for it to maybe, hopefully work. Your eyes run with tears and you feel suffocated as your ribs felt as if they were breaking. The noises that come from your mouth were animalistic, if you weren’t in so much pain you would have been mortified.

As the night progresses it only gets worse and worse, it lulls for a while and you relax. Taking in deep breaths you hope it’s the end but a wolf howls out somewhere in the yard and you are brought right back into pain. As you look in the full body mirror leaning against the wall your eyes are a glowing orange and you look off. You looked like the second to first transformation in an animorphs book.

Eventually your body takes mercy and you pass out, crying yourself to sleep. Your dreams are filled with wolves and forests. You felt safe and at home in your dream, it was so easy and you didn’t hurt. The moon was full in your dream, the forest was stunning in the moonlight. As you meander through the woods, an odd feeling takes over you.

You had been horny before but never this much. You felt hot and sticky and so- so needy. Your body contorts in your dream into a face down ass up position. The urge and lust for babies takes over you. Whining you spread your legs more hoping to entice someone into filling you up. You gasp as someone finally does something, licking at your hole, you can’t tell who it is but it feels so good…so right.

“Please please, please….pleaaassseee…” you whine desperately for someone to fill you up.

Your breathing stutters as you feel your hole stretch open, it was so warm and comforting. The pace was slow and considerate before it ramped up to something more intense. You had never felt so good ever in your life, none of your sparse partners had ever gotten you to this peak. Reaching your peak you tense up and dive over the edge of pleasure. You moan loudly and clench down.

Just as you came down from your high, it became cold and your hole clenched around nothing. You whine as you slowly wake up. Rubbing your eye, you were incredibly sore which wasn’t new but the insides of your thighs are tacky with your release. Mortification washed over you as you realized that you had been humping your pillow during your sex dream.

Getting up way too quickly, your body protests and you cry out in pain. Stumbling to the shower you wash off your shame and put the pillow cover in the washing machine. As you dress you hear the doorbell go off.

As quiet as possible you climb downstairs but end up slipping and falling on your wrist causing pain to shoot up your arm. You cry out in pain and gasp harshly. Coupled with the soreness from last night you couldn’t get up and instead curl up in a ball and cry.

Someone knocks on the door again “You alright there?” The voice was rough and deeply masculine “I usually watch the house so I have a key, can I come in?”

“Give me a minute…” You whimper and stand up shakily.

You stumble to the door and open it.

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