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mausinly · 3 months

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BIG BURLY FLUSTERED MEN with a/o who takes one of their hands and kisses their knuckles - knuckles that have been covered in blood - and big burly man (I’m imagining König) just self destructs. Blue screens. Combusts.

Unwinding after operations is always a hassle. There's this limbo between finishing the mission and arriving back at base where adrenaline is still high, but you can't stay in one place long enough to come down from it.

Everyone is still milling about the building your unit is using as a temporary base. Counting your dead, if any, and treating the wounded before heading to the drop ships to fly back to KorTac's base.

You and König are holed off in a corner of the courtyard, you being seated on a bench with your back pressed against the wall while he sits on the ground between your legs. He rests his head back on your thigh, and you can feel the way he fidgets. Itching for something when there is nothing left to do but wait. His mask is still on, along with the rest of his gear. One of his hands idly tap your ankle, trying to find some way to release this anxious energy he has until you both can get back to base, where he knows it's safe.

You look down at him and remove your gloves, placing them aside before sneaking one of your hands under his hood and the balaclava beneath. Your fingers drag against the column of his neck, and your nails gently scratch his nape, making him groan and tilt his head back further to look up at you.

König let's out a grunt and fixes you a curious look. You hold out your free hand toward him. "Give me your hand." You murmur, and he does so compliantly.

He melts a little at the pleased little smile you give him, eyes darting down to where your hand holds his. His are so much bigger than yours, thicker too with the bulky material of his gloves. The fabric is stained red, speckles of blood still wet and crimson. He frowns a little at the idea of your hands becoming stained as well.

König thinks to rip his hand from yours, but falters when you begin to tug the leather off his fingers and down his wrist until his skin is released from the suffocating material. His hands are rough, pale and scarred and calloused. Your hands aren't perfect, but they are much more delicate and pretty than his in comparison.

You seem to disagree, though, with the way your hands trace the shape of his. You spread his fingers a little, dragging your nails along each callous and faded scar. It's almost devout in the way you study each line of his palm, the pads of your fingers so gentle against his skin.

You lift his hand up to your lips, tenderly pressing a kiss to each knuckle. You start at the base before moving down each finger, almost as if you don't want any of them to be left out. He would have laughed at the thought if his body wasn't frozen like a deer in headlights.

Your eyes fall down to his and your smile widens at the absolutely mystified look in his eyes, stormy blues flickering between yours and your lips against his hand as his pupils dilate.

His mouth opens and closes underneath his mask, but any attempts to speak die in his throat. How could you put so many thoughts in his head that he is unable to fabricate them into words? Do you have any clue what you do to him?

You let out a small chuckle and go back to kissing his hand, trailing your lips down across his palm and the back of his hand. You pull down the edge of his sleeve just to press your lips to his wrist. König groans as your affection doesn't let up, long and pained as his head lulls against your thigh and he drapes an arm over his eyes.

"Du wirst mein Tod sein, Engel..." He murmurs, thankful that his mask hides the stupid grin on his face.

#maus writes #i have no fucking clue what just came over me #i opened my ask box and posted my pinned post with the intention of replying to some brainrotting asks with like 2-3 paragraphs or smth #you got a whole drabble as a treat thank you for the most amazing prompt nonnie <3 #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #also sorry if the german is atrocious blame google translate 😔#im a sucker for some hand appreciation and i know konig would be too

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ladytauria · 6 months

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The prompt list. Listen. I think Jason deserves a kiss to the thigh. Whoever you want to give it to him

nonny you are SO right

i went with jaytim bc i'm predictable like that~

Tim challenges anyone to find a more comfortable pillow than one of Jason's thighs. (Well---alright. They actually come in at a close second to his chest, while his stomach sits at a narrow third. But---still.) There's nothing like reclining on the couch, his head pillowed on Jason's lap while the TV plays in the background.

Tonight, Tim's foregone his laptop. For once in his life, he's had enough of numbers. He just wants to relax with his boyfriend.

Jason's hand drops into his hair, stroking idly through the strands. Tim's eyelids droop. He raises his hand, wrapping it around Jason's knee; thumb pressed to the back of it. Jason's leg shifts to accommodate him.

He smiles, humming softly. He turns his face, pressing a kiss to Jason's thigh. Jason's fingers pause in his hair for a moment, and then continue; the gentle scratch of nails against his scalp making Tim wish he could purr, pushing into his hands.

Jason laughs; a soft huff of air that turns Tim's insides soft and fuzzy. "Overgrown kitten," he murmurs.

Tim's mouth twitches. "Meow~"

Jason snorts, flicking his ear. "Hush, I'm watching a movie."

Tim nips him through his sweats, earning a light tug to his hair. He heaves a put-on sigh, drawing his blanket higher up his shoulder.

Then he settles, letting the low murmur of the television and Jason's fingers in his hair lull him to sleep.

[ sultry prompts list ]

#the temptation to go with thigh worship was heavy #but that would have taken much longer so #i put the lines i wrote for it in the notion page~#i also did consider going jaysteph #but jaytim just called to me more for this one #thank you for the prompt nonny #i hope you liked it!#jaytim #timjay #dcu #tauriawritesfanfic #lovely anons #asks and answers #i also almost went with tim patching him up and kissing the wound #but i have like #2 or 3 more ‘tim patches jason up’ fics in my drafts #so…#xD

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heronchildlove · 5 months

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1<33

Send me a number from 1 to 100 and I’ll write a drabble based on my Spotify Wrapped playlist - Accepting!

~~**~~

Number 1: アイドル (Idol) - YOASOBI (Oshi no Ko opening)

There was a tug on James' heart he only felt when Matthew climbed upon the stage.

It wasn't jealousy, not really, nor possessiveness. It was something more akin to grief. Matthew had craved love his whole life, and it hurt that he had decided to seek it from the faceless masses of the adoring public instead of from someone that had always been right beside him; but maybe it was for the best. Matthew soaked the crowd's attention and flourished under it in a way James would never be able to compete by himself.

Even if he loved him more than anything in the world.

It was also a little bit of hatred. This life had brought Matthew to his highest highs, but it had also brought him to his lowest lows: the scrutiny, the malicious hatred and envy Matthew was so sensitive to, the flask he had started hiding under his clothes at all times to deal with it all. It was killing Matthew to lead this life, it would kill him much faster if he had to live without it, there was nowhere to run.

It was also - how could it not be - a little bit of love, and pride, and wonder. Matthew had always been a point of light in James' life, and that light was magnified by a thousand prisms when he was on stage. Matthew had been born for spectacle - everything from his appearance, to his voice, to his demeanour were made to shine and be adored. James was no more immune to it now than he had been the first time: when his father had gotten a karaoke machine for his and his mother's anniversary when James was 8 and Matthew had absolutely stolen the show.

Matthew had smiled so much that night, and every time back then when he got to sing or go on a stage.

Perhaps that's what he grieved most of all.

All those people that claimed to love him, to adore him, they couldn't even tell that his smiles were fake, that they had been for years now, on and off of stages.

Perhaps that's why he kept doing this. Kept writing his songs, kept accompanying him on tours, kept coming to all the shows.

Because he was hoping that maybe the next song, maybe the next show, maybe the next time, would be the one to bring Matthew's true smile back.

Because when James brought him a new song, or he was performing and caught sight of James backstage, or when it was only the two of them talking alone in Matthew's dressing room or bedroom, for one brilliant moment it seemed like it had.

But they never lasted more than a moment.

Perhaps most of it was - how could it not be? - hope. That next time Matthew's smile would not be a lie.

Maybe next time.

#thanks nonnie now I can't stop thinking about an idol!matthew au and I'm SCREAMING #Heronchild #james herondale #matthew fairchild #the last hours #tlh #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #fanfiction #nanda writes #idol!au #I had my first day off in weeks today and I'm so happy cause I got to work on these <3 #thank you!#prompt #ask #anonymous

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queen-scribbles · 1 year

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19, arcann and endrali 👀👀

19. ...for luck --- By the time Arcann heard what was happening, he was only just in time to catch Endrali before she left.

“Off to save the day again?”

She turned with a smile at his voice, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug. “It’s what I do, when someone needs me.”

“I know.” Arcann studied her a moment. “Who is it this time?”

“This time...” Endrali breathed out a soft laugh at the implication despite the sincerity of the question. “There’s a Jedi colony out on Ossus. They’ve been hiding all this time, laying low, but the Empire found them.”

He frowned. “Then... if you suspect there will be battle, would it not be better to bring help?” It did explain the charge back to her familiar white and green robes rather than armor. She looked the quintessential Jedi again, as fit with aiding members of her order.

She wrinkled her nose. “General Daeruun doesn’t want to alert the Imperials we’re on to them and the Jedi have been warned, with how close it is to their space, which means a small ship. And we feel” --her expression said Lana felt-- “it’s smart not to spook the colony by showing up in any decent force when they’ve been isolated for so long and might not know what to make of our arrival.”

“Mm.” He saw the logic, even if he wasn’t sure he agreed. Surely one more person wouldn’t make that much difference in first impressions.

Endrali smiled and reached to squeeze his hand. “I’ll be careful, since I know you’re about to ask.”

“That transparent, am I?” Arcann tried to laugh as he squeezed back.

“About this, yes.” She leaned against one of the landing ramp struts, almost lost her balance when she misjudged where to center herself. Arcann tightened his grip on her hand to keep her upright and she smiled sheepishly. “On second thought, maybe I should bring you with me.”

He couldn’t deny a preference for that, so didn’t precisely argue against it. “I’m certain you can handle whatever you find there, Commander.”

Endrali grinned. “The title would feel more formal if you weren’t giving me sad puppy eyes when you say it, Arcann.”

He didn’t argue that part, either. “Knowing you can handle whatever awaits doesn’t preclude wishing I could join you.”

She nodded. “And if Lana and Daeruun hadn’t made such good points, I’d bring you along.”

But they had. And though neither said it, there was also the point of not knowing this colony’s opinion of him. Depending on when they’d isolated themselves, he might be the very worst person she could bring along.

So Arcann shrugged and freed his hand to instead run his fingers through her hair. “I’ll see you when you return.”

Endrali nodded, and he felt her sense shift as a hopeful smile tugged her lips. “I’m... a little excited, despite the circumstances, to be meeting with more Jedi.” She bit her lip. “I haven’t heard anything of Yuon or Syo or... many others in a long time; I can’t help hoping I might see some familiar faces.”

“Then I shall hope that for you as well,” Arcann murmured, letting his hand fall back to his side.

“Thank you,” Endrali said. “Any extra hope or luck is appreciated.” She glanced up into the shuttle, then back to him, and her smile turned grateful. “I... should get going-”

“Endrali...” He caught her arm and tugged her back as she started up the ramp, his hand curving her jaw to guide her in for a kiss. “For luck,” he said softly, “even if I doubt you’ll need it.”

She gave a quiet, breathless laugh. “I dunno, maybe I could use some more...”

Arcann chuckled and obliged, fingers catching in the silky blue of her hair.

Endrali’s arms went around his neck, steadying herself as she balanced on the balls of her feet so he didn’t have to bend so far. Her thumb rubbed his cheek in a gentle caress when she pulled back. “I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

Arcann nodded, pressed one last soft kiss to her forehead as she dropped back flat-footed, and let her go.

Off to save the day, as she did so well.

It would feel a long couple weeks.

---

(approximately a week later, all the Force users on Odessen feel the ripple of ecstatic joy when one of the Jedi at the colony turns out to be Endrali’s BFF. :D)

#queens fic #kiss prompts #endrali jade #arcann tirall #endrali/arcann #ardrali #otp: undone by you #swtor fic #swtor #travel time from odessen to ossus is INSANE #thank you for the prompt nonny this was fun <3

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stbot · 1 year

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I’ve just read your tanthamore fics on ao3 and I loved them! Seriously you write them so well! I hope you’ll write more about them in the future… do you maybe accept prompts or ideas? Either way I hope to read more about them (even a part 2 of your last work)

Oh thank you babe!! <3 I am absolutely planning to write more tanthamore. I'm actually hoping to get chapter one of my modern Boxing AU posted within the next couple of days, so that's next in the pipeline.

I've never received a prompt before, but I'm open to it! I've actually been wanting to try writing shorter things (which for me means like <5k lmao) and prompts might be a fun way to do that and practice some brevity :)

#i'd say i probably won't write anything explicit/kink #or characters dying :(((#that's obvi an incomprehensive list but we'll burn that bridge when we cross it or however the saying goes #i'd write about tanthamore (and the whole gang) all day if i could tho so prompts could be fun!#hey nonny nonny #thanks for swinging by bud! hope you have a great weekend <3

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dottiechan · 2 years

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Hello there! Hope you're doing well. Are you stll taking microstory requests? If yes, may I request 24.(tender) with Ven Zallow? If not, no worries 🥰

24. tender

"Focus, Aryn."

The lanterns in the temple gardens paint the potted plants and the steep, angular walls of the courtyard a warm orange, which is in stark contrast with the deep blue of the evening sky. Like master and padawan, the light wrestles with the dark - Aryn tries to read her master's mind, Ven tries to resist her.

Aryn - despite her young age - is all talent and concentration, brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, lips set in a tight line. She's a prodigy, and of course that means teaching her comes with equally intricate challenges. And yet Ven is proud, prouder than he's ever been of a student, and he wonders if she can sense that, that despite the setbacks, the hardships, the failures, she is still the greatest thing he's had the privilege to help create. As she's scratching at the door of his consciousness, yet again failing to read her master's mind (not like she's ever had a chance, but the lesson here is persistence anyways) he's thrown off balance when the little girl sticks out her tongue in concentration, and suddenly there's another feeling beside pride now that swells in his heart, rearing to give in to Aryn's will prodding his mind - tenderness. He's never particularly wanted a family, or a child, but then again he never had the luxury to entertain such fancies.

And now there's this child, and he calls himself master. But in his mind, he calls himself father too. However, Aryn doesn't need to know. And he's not ready for her to know either.

...

When the temple burns, and the flames rage against the starless abyss of the night sky many years later, Ven welcomes Aryn into his mind one last time. And amidst all the warnings of a dying master about the Empire and Darth Malgus, Aryn also finds tender thoughts fading fast.

A father's goodbye.

#dottiechan writes #microstory meme #swtor #ven zallow #aryn leneer #swtor fanfiction #this was honestly a surprise #i reblogged that prompt years ago but that won't stop me from writing :D #thanks for the ask Nonny and I hope you like it :3 💙

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free-for-all-fics · 20 days

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Could you do Interview with a vampire Lestat prompt 10 where he has a kid. I love that idea! Idk if Armand could manipulate them.

Hi, Nonnie! Glad you like that idea! Unfortunately although I love IWTV, I don’t think I’m knowledgeable enough in the characters or the lore to write a full fic. But if anyone else wants to write something based off that prompt or any other prompt, they’re more than welcome to! ❤️

#nonnie #nonnie <3 #thank you anon #anonymous #anonymous asks #i appreciate you #if anyone wants to write for this or any other prompt go for it #I’d love to read it

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sollucets · 11 months

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hiii rowan, congrats on the milestone!! i had a gifset request idea that i've had for a while if you were open to it, but no worries at all if it's not something that piques your interest! as i've been rewatching the eclipse eps recently i've noticed that they really did set up wat to be a levelheaded person and good candidate for head prefect from the early episodes (like him being the mediator for kan and akk's fight, starting to raising his hand to help aye in judo, saying "why don't we just ask?" to aye and thua instead of worrying from afar, not liking the idea of blacklisting suppalo's own students during the protests, just wanting to make a movie showcasing how great his friends were, coming to akk's defense even though he was mad at akk about being the curse, etc.) there's a few more i'm missing i'm sure, but those are what i'm just remembering off the top of my head 😅 there were a few in our skyy too maybe? i've always wanted to make a gifset for wat + showing qualities of a good leader, but all my giffing skills begin and end at ezgif 😂 this is kind of a monster request though so i totally understand if you don't want to do it or if it's too much!! just wanted to pass along the idea if you were interested, but no pressure at all <3 once again congrats on the milestone and can't wait for the next oowu installment whenever you're ready :]

hi nonny :') <3 thank you very much for your kind words!! oowu... oowu is coming. the curse of doing all these akkaye writing prompts is that my inspiration & desire to write oowu has surged again but i. have to finish the prompts first lmao. but no worries. it's coming

as for your prompt, i have to admit i think i ended up a little sideways of it, but i hope you like it anyway. at first i started looking for like, lists of good leadership traits but sifting through so many corporate websites destroyed my soul so i decided to focus on just one wat trait that i think sets him up well as a leader, and that is how he tries his best to look at a situation from all sides, with compassion. i love how he clearly gets that from his interest in media & that he's the only one of the prefect trio to come to the correct conclusion re: the protestors without being led by the dick towards it, that he takes a while to consider his opinions and doesn't just go with his friends or authority, and he does so while thinking of others & their feelings

in any case even though i think i didn't Quite fulfill your request i hope you like it anyway? i loved rewatching wat scenes for this he is just. the very best boy

#rowan asks #nonny #thank you so much :') <3 #long post #arbitrary milestone prompt asks

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catscidr · 2 months

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Hiii I just found your acc and really like your stuff! Can I pls request lazy morning sex with Jing Yuan (and any character you think might fit this prompt) I just looked and there is not one fic like this of this man when he's like... right there. He's like so perfect for this scenario. Thank you sm and have a great day/night! <3

i just finished writing this its 3am i think i blacked out. everybody give it up for my man jing yuan i need himSO BAAAAD AAHHH i hope u like this nonnie ♡♡ cw: nsfw, mdni. semi-clothed sx, soft dom jy, clt stimulation, size kink if you squint, praise, pet names, slight overstimulation, cuddling n fucking face-to-face, riding, creampie. /not proofread ill do that in the morning. dies/ includes: fem reader, jing yuan, fu xuan mentionned wc: 3,2k

You loved and hated waking up next to Jing Yuan in the morning. On one hand, the rhythm of his beating heart lulls you to sleep, and he makes for a wonderful personal heater; but on the other... he’s a little too comfortable. So much so that every time you sleep with him, you, without fail, end up being late for work. That, or you barely make it in time. At times you would point your finger at him and accuse him of being a wholesome, sleepy version of an incubus, and he would laugh in that smooth, baritone voice of his.

Regardless.

This morning was one of those mornings, of course. Jing Yuan came back home for the first time in two weeks the night before- being the general of the Luofu means that he would occasionally have to leave for an unknown amount of time to take care of business. Every time he had to leave, you’d linger around him a little longer than usual, wrap your arms around him tighter than you normally would and let your lips linger on his cheek long enough for the sun to rise completely.

He’d come back so late last night that you were already sleeping in your shared bed, legs haphazardly thrown over the bed sheets in a poor attempt to regulate your body temperature. The button-up shirt you wore made his heart lunge in his throat in the best way, but the last thing he wanted was to wake you. So, he’d carefully remove his armored uniform, take his shirt off and slip into the bed with you with nothing but his briefs on, and pull you into his chest. You had unconsciously nuzzled closer to him, your body craving the warmth of his body you had missed oh so dearly.

Which explained the situation you were now in. The dilemma you found yourself stuck in. Jing Yuan was back; you had your face mere millimeters away from his plush chest, his arms held you tight against him, and his soft snores almost convinced you to fall back asleep. Keyword; almost.

As much as you loved him you knew that he’d be here once you came back from work, so with as much resolve as you could muster, you try wriggling your way out of his grip. With him being as big as he was, though, it didn’t surprise you when he tightened his hold on you, treating you as if you were his plushie threatening to fall off his bed and he was a child.

You let out a quiet oof from his strong grip and reevaluate your options. There weren’t many options, but at least you had choices; either you wake him up, convince him to let you go and then get to work early enough that you don’t risk getting written up again, or you let him hold you and... arrive at work late. Again. Which was the last thing you wanted, given the fact that your boss had specifically told you that she couldn’t allow you to miss another meeting.

Step one was to summon the ability to be even more stubborn than your lover. Step two is to carefully wriggle your arms up, high enough that you can move your hands and you can use them to your advantage against the beast. It took you some time, given the fact that they were stuck between his and your body, but you succeeded, nonetheless. And you only got one displeased grunt from the sleeping general in response.

As you’re about to proceed with step three, Jing Yuan cracks an eye open and buries his head into the crook of your neck while curling into you, effectively trapping you between his plush muscles and the duvet.

Could have gone better.

“Jing Yuan,” you huff, your voice sounding more like a whine than anything. The general doesn’t respond, leading you to believe he fell asleep again, but his morning voice graces your ears before you have the time to curse him out. “Mhm, I’m up,” he hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck in a false apology.

You wriggle in response, grunting from the sheer effort. One of the downsides that came with cuddling with Jing Yuan was the way he could keep you right there with him as long as he wanted, curse his strength.

Seeing as he wasn’t going to budge, you decide that two can play that game. You stare into his silky mop of silver hair, pondering whether you should negotiate your freedom or if you should play dirty- but where's the fun in trying to talk your way out of this predicament? You bring a hand up to gently brush his bangs away from his face. He makes a soft noise of contentment at the feeling of your fingers delicately brushing against his face and, before he can grow too comfortable, you lean in and bite his cheek.

The general makes a noise of surprise, grunting as he pulls away from you to narrow his eyes at his perpetrator. His pout morphs into a lazy smile as he holds your glare. “If you wanted to play you could have just said so, sweetheart,” he says lowly, moving his free hand from your back to letting it rest lazily on your hips, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the exposed skin.

You stick your tongue out at him stubbornly, “Not now, I have to get up.” Unfazed by your headstrong attitude, Jing Yuan shifts one of his legs to come between yours- his strong thigh sandwiched between your soft ones. A surprised gasp leaves your lips in response to the smooth way he molds his body to yours, but you refuse to allow yourself to be swayed by him.

“Aeons- ‘Yuan please,” you huff quietly, but he notices the way your voice catches in your throat. His golden eyes briefly shine with what could only be described as mischief and, with a smooth motion, Jing Yuan grabs ahold of your shoulder and swivels you around so that your back is against his chest. A surprised oof rips from your throat as you bounce lightly on the bed from the impact- he lowers his face to yours, a rich, deep chuckle echoing in your ears as your resolve begins to melt away.

Taking advantage of the new position, Jing Yuan throws a leg over yours to trap you in and, in turn, grinds his growing bulge against your ass. If he wasn’t hard at the sight of your face in the morning when he first woke up, he sure was now; while he slowly ruts against you, he allows his hands to wander down to the hem of your shirt.

You stifle a moan as the metaphorical dam in your head begins to crumble apart. Sure, you would see him when you would get back home later, but you were with him now. Laying here with your lover, safe and comfortable in his arms while his clothed erection lazily thrusts up into your heat.

As you let out needy whines that you aren’t even aware you’re voicing, Jing Yuan brings his lips closer to your ear. “Five more minutes?” he asks with a knowing smile, his own breath becoming more and more rugged the more he rubs up against you. Gods, he could feel you throbbing through his sweatpants and your panties.

You swallow thickly and whine in response, your head already fogging up with desire. Going a whole two weeks without sex wasn’t particularly hard; you had your trusty toy with you and your hands if it happened to run out of battery and you were that desperate. But you weren’t- and during these past two weeks you had felt just fine, totally not pent up or even the slightest bit sexually frustrated. Your job had kept you busy, but when you’re stuck in Jing Yuan’s arms after not feeling him for so long, after not feeling his cock twitching inside you, you felt like something snapped inside you.

Distantly, you think about how pathetic this must look for him; only a few lingering touches and his hips pressing up against yours from the back and that’s all it takes for you to drench your panties. But really, you couldn’t care less. You knew he was just as pent up as you were.

You bring one of your hands down to fumble with the hem of your panties to quickly take them off, down your legs. Hearing Jing Yuan’s hoarse breathing in your ears only made you even more eager to feel his skin right up against yours. Maybe part of the reason why you were so incredibly turned on was because of how tired you still felt, but either way, you needed him. And he needed you just as badly.

The general’s hands leave you temporarily to slide his sweatpants down to his thighs, low enough for his cock to leave its confines. Precum builds at the tip, swollen and pulsing with the need to bury itself inside you. He sighs, one of his hands coming up to stroke his length, thumb sliding over the slit every time his fist comes up. You whine at the loss of his hands on you and reach back to take his hand, bringing it between your legs to rub your clit. He laughs at your impatience, shifting his weight on his other arm to lean over you properly.

“Someone’s impatient and greedy,” he goads. “I thought you wanted to get to work, darling,” he purrs in your ear, his middle and ring finger coming together to tease your bud, riling you up further and making a mess between your legs. A strained fuck leaves your lips as you back your ass up into him, his hard cock tucked between your thighs, rubbing into your arousal. “Please just-” a whimper interrupts you as Jing Yuan increases the pace of his fingers, “-inside. I-I need to feel you,” you huff, feeling too empty. He considers teasing you some more, listening to the wet sounds of your pussy bounce off the walls of your shared bedroom, but his own patience was also waning thin.

A quiet noise of protest leaves you when the man takes his hand away from your bud. He brings his fingers up to his lips to lick your slick off of them, moaning at the taste. Your thighs clench in response, jerking the general’s cock unintentionally.

“Fuck,” he growls into your ear, hurriedly taking his length into his hand to guide it into your soaking wet cunt. Your mouth hangs open when you feel his tip slip between your lips, needy noises slipping from your mouth. Inch after inch he sinks into you, slowly letting you accommodate to his girth. He finally bottoms out, stretching your hole as you keen and whine from the satisfaction of feeling so full.

He waits a few beats to allow you to get used to him, your hoarse breathing matching his own. When he feels you clamping down on him less, he starts to thrust- pulling out slowly and thrusting back in sharply. You moan aloud, mouth agape as his cock bullies your spongy walls relentlessly.

“Jing Yua-aan,” you whimper, hands gripping onto his forearms weakly, nails forming crescent shapes into his skin. He reduces you to a sleepy, blabbering, moaning mess as the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the bedroom. With one hand splayed across your lower tummy, he presses down, making you arch your back into him from the sudden added pressure and pleasure.

“Y’ like that? You missed me, huh?” he taunts, though his own voice trails off into a needy moan the more he feels the drag of your walls along his cock. “I know I’ve- fuck, m-missed you,” Jing Yuan stutters, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he feels a familiar coil form in his abdomen. His thigh muscles clench as he wills away his orgasm, needing to feel you all around him for a bit longer.

Unable to respond you simply nod dumbly, the words leaving your brain as it’s reduced to mush. Your lover hums, a smirk stretching his lips, “Yeah?” He brings his face closer to yours, your breaths tangling with each other before he smashes his lips against yours, the angle awkward and uncomfortable. But you don’t care- the added stimulation makes you melt as you crane your head back to kiss him properly, your lips occasionally leaving his from the force of his thrusts.

Jing Yuan moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss. He looks at you with pure lust swirling in his golden eyes, your face sinful and needy. An idea pops up in the general’s mind and he smiles down at you, pressing one last chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Ah, w-what are you-” you slur, your sentence interrupted by the general manhandling you to switch positions. He kicks the sheets off completely and places both of his large hands on your waist, gripping you firmly as he lays on his back, placing you on top him. His cock slips out of your walls with a wet shlick and you whine at the feeling of being so suddenly empty, twisting your body so that your thighs straddle his hips. Jing Yuan looks up at you with a small, cat-like smirk and your breath catches in your throat.

His silky hair splayed out on the pillows beneath him, cheeks flushed, and eyes piercing into yours made your knees buckle and you suddenly froze in your movements. Feeling your pussy throb against him, Jing Yuan chuckles heartily, one of his hands leaving your waist to stroke his hard cock, your slick dripping down on him.

“Lift your hips up and sit on my cock, darling,” he orders softly, a stark contrast to the way he looks at you- with pure, unfiltered lust and adoration. Your body moves automatically as you obey, hovering your tight pussy over his swollen tip, and lower yourself down. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, and you feel his girth stretching you out again as you begin to bounce on his hard cock.

“Yeahh just like that,” he hums, the hand that held his length moving up to rest on your stomach, thumb jutting out to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. You squeak in surprise, your body jolting forward, and place your hands over his plush chest for balance. “Feels good, baby? Feel how deep my cock is?”

A moan leaves his kiss-bitten lips and you swear you physically felt yourself get pushed closer to your nearing orgasm, the noises leaving his lips amplifying your pleasure tenfold. “Taking me so well, look at that pretty pussy,” he coos, and you keen as his half-lidded eyes burn into yours. He feels your walls clench in response to the praise and flashes you a dangerous smirk; he places his feet flat on the bed and tightens his grip on your waist to buck his hips up, making you topple over him. Your gaze is unfocused and blurry as you look down at him, heavy breaths leaving your lips, tears threatening to roll down your rosy cheeks from the pace he set.

“And look at you,” he whispers lovingly under his breath. Jing Yuan throws his head back deeper into the pillows, keeping his eyes on you as he watches you lose yourself to the addicting feeling of his cock bullying your sopping cunt. “Y-Yuan,” you whine, your climax threatening to rip through you as you bite your lip to stifle your needy moans. He tuts, leaning up to bite your lip to pull you out of your pleasure-filled daze.

“Pay attention to me darling. Thaat’s it, let 'em out for me.” The general huffs, brows furrowing in concentration to focus on the feeling of your warm walls surrounding him, sucking him in endlessly. His thumb presses down onto your clit roughly to bring you closer to your orgasm; you whimper in turn, a chorus of oh fuck and please’s leaving your puffy lips. “I-I’m so close,” you whine, eyelids fluttering shut as you feel your control leaving your body, the tight coil of your orgasm threatening to snap.

Jing Yuan groans, hips bucking up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he keeps up the pace, persistent. “Come on, give it to me, pretty girl.” He coos, voice breaking into a whine, close to climaxing himself. His thrusts become sloppier, and he bites his bottom lip to stifle a string of hearty, needy moans.

His hips still up into you as he cums, thick ropes of his seed painting your walls white. Jing Yuan’s thumb flicks your puffy clit until you climax as well, your cunt milking his sensitive cock. You whimper, feeling your clit buzz with overstimulation as he keeps rubbing it with purpose. “S-Stop, stooop,” you cry, your eyes burning with tears as the dull pain turns into pleasure, “Aeons you’re so tight.” Your lover slows down his movements, easing the tension in his muscles, until he stops circling your clit and gently places both of his hands on your waist. His hands slide up and down your sweaty skin, soothing the bruises that will inevitably form.

Your body slumps, exhausted and utterly spent, arms caging him as you rest your face in the crook of his neck. You both feel sticky and sweaty, but the warmth you shared made up for the need to jump in the shower to wash yourselves off. Jing Yuan shifts his hips so that his softening cock slips out of you; he inhales sharply, his cock still sensitive.

“I missed you,” you mumble quietly, voice muffled from the way you're pressed into him and the pillows and press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Yeah? I never would have guessed,” the general chuckles, arms coming up to hug you tightly, one hand placed behind your head to cradle you close to him. You hit him with a huff but then sigh, content.

“Mmh, but I missed you too, darling,” Jing Yuan replies softly. He holds you as your eyes droop, exhaustion taking ahold of your tired body. His own eyelids droop as he listens to your soft heartbeat, and soon enough, you’re both sleeping, legs tangled together while Jing Yuan’s strong arms keep you laid atop of him.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but you hear a phone ringing loudly in your ear, jolting you away from your peaceful dreams. You don’t recognize the tune, and as you’re about to wriggle your way out of the dozing general’s arms, he swings one arm over to the nightstand next to your bed and answers it without looking at the caller ID. “Jing Yuan speaking,” he says in a hoarse voice, eyes still closed.

Even without his phone on speaker you could make out a very loud, very shrill voice from the other side of the line, yelling out two hours late, a single mission and get your ass over here. Jing Yuan doesn’t react, the same sleepy, cat-like smile on his face as he listens to the person rant. They eventually let up and hang up, saying something you couldn’t quite catch. Your lover haphazardly tosses his phone somewhere on the bed and loops his arm back around you, nuzzling into your neck.

“Who was that?” you ask, voice cracking from how much you abused your vocal cords (apparently) two hours ago. He scoffs, amused, and pulls away just enough to speak clearly.

“Lady Fu Xuan,” he says slyly. “I should get dressed before she decides to read into my divination and sees things she probably shouldn’t.”

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #jing yuan smut #hsr x reader #hsr x reader smut #honkai star rail smut #jing yuan x reader smut #hsr smut

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lovings4turn · 26 days

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Ecstatic for your celebration!! Congrats once again!! May I please request something with Jack Hughes and the "eye contact all the time" prompt from the third fluff list? Please and thank you!

thank you so much nonnie lovely !!! and thank you so much for sending this in ,, i love this prompt for jack :(( i hope you like it sweetheart ,, sending love <3!!

jack makes it his personal mission to show you just how much he loves you in every little thing he does. between the compliments that flow from his lips like nectar and the gentle touches and kisses, you have no doubt in your mind that your place in his heart is cemented.

these displays of adoration extend to even the littlest of things, right down to his body language. because whenever he's around you, jack is unable to take his eyes off of you for longer than a minute or so.

more than that, jack always looks at you with a level of eye contact others may consider intense, yet it's something that you thrive under.

at first, you teased him about it, letting him know he was staring in the hopes it would bring a flush to his cheeks. but your boyfriend just winked at you with a crooked grin, a mumbled 'damn right' your only response as his eyes never strayed from your own.

jack looks at you like he sees you, all of you right in front of him, and wanted to commit every last detail of your eyes to memory. because no matter the chaos surrounding you, or the incoherent babbling leaving your lips, jack’s eyes lock onto yours like they're a lifeline.

his gaze is deep and soft. often, his eyes crinkle at the corners, a small price to pay for the intensity of the smile directed your way.

jack is never one to shy away from what he wants, and so he takes every opportunity to look his love, and you, straight in the eyes.

#𑁤 becca’s 1k fright fest !#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes drabble #jh86 #new jersey devils x reader #nj devils x reader

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cheolhub · 9 months

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YOUR MINE AND I TAKE CARE OF WHAT BELONGS TO ME + CHEOL

Also happy cheolhubversary <333 IM NOT YET DONE READING UR POST i just ran as fast as i could here when yew said ure only taking the first 5-10 reqs hajdjdjsk

12:37 a.m. — choi seungcheol

prompt. “you’re mine and i take care of what belongs to me.”

wc. ~1.4k

warnings. established relationship, frat boy!cheol, cheeky!reader, slight possessiveness, choking, pet names [baby, angel], doggy style? (idk, it’s against the door 😅) dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie – MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok so ik i said my limit was 1k for these drabbles, but plz understand i can’t hold back when it comes to cheol. ANYWAY!! kai <3 thank u for sending an ask !! ^^ i know this is kinda… meh,, but i hope u enjoy it a little bit anyway >< (def not proofread… sorry)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash! ࿐ྂ

seungcheol dragging you through a sea of sweaty bodies was the last thing you wanted.

well, no actually… it’s exactly what you wanted. your plan worked out just the way you knew it would.

your attempts to get cheol’s attention at the start of the night proved to be futile as he had to make sure tonight’s party was in order. “the frat might get suspended if another one of our parties gets out of control,” he’d said. you could care less about the frat. not with the way your panties were glued to your needy, needy core. “i just gotta make sure everything is okay. just mingle for a bit, ‘kay?”

and you definitely weren’t the happiest when he told you to wait till the night was over, so you did what you do best.

piss him the fuck off.

by the time the party was in full swing, you’d asked at least 3 of seungcheol’s frat brothers the same question. “this party is so lame,” you’d said through a sad sigh. “can you do something for me?” the question always came out so…suggestively. it was obvious you were plotting something and looking for someone to do the dirty work.

but soonyoung was too drunk to comprehend your words and wonwoo knew the second you’d walked up to him with a frown on your face. he said he’s not getting in between you and seungcheol after the last time he fell for your antics.

but vernon… vernon was the perfect prospect. he would get the job done perfectly.

“nonnie,” you pouted, much too pretty for his liking. “will you do me a favor?”

and vernon, ever the sweet angel, replied with, “anything. what’s up?”

you leaned in and ghosted your lips over the shell of his ear, “will you tell cheol that this party fucking sucks?” you felt his body vibrate against yours as he let out a soft laugh. “and tell him that if he doesn’t come fuck me, i’ll find someone that will.”

vernon pulled back and wearily raised an eyebrow at you.

“i’m not actually going to,” you explained through a laugh. “but if i tell him, he’ll know i'm bluffing. but if you tell him while also mentioning you heard this from wonwoo and soonyoung, then… you know. i get what i want and everyone’s happy.” you corrected yourself, “well, i’ll be happy.”

the thing you love the most about vernon is he doesn’t ask very many questions. you could ask him to help you bury a body and he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye, just do as you ask with a nod and a careless shrug.

he went off and did exactly that. and you didn’t regret making him do it at all.

how could you when seungcheol was seething, practically shoving everyone out of his way to find you after hearing that you needed someone at this shitty party to fuck you? you’ll have to find the loose-lipped vernon later and thank him for relaying the rumor to your busy boyfriend.

honestly, you weren’t expecting him to drop everything– to stop running the party which was the whole reason he left you hanging in the first place– just to pull you into his room, wrap his hand around your throat, and slam you against the door.

“you’re a little slut,” he chuckles, obviously amused. you smile back at him cheekily, eyes glazing over. “you think i don’t know what you’re up to?”

“what ever do you mean, cheollie?” you ask innocently, still smiling like a devil in disguise.

he leans in, lips ghosting over yours as he asks, “i mean, you really think anyone at this party can fuck you like i do? make you cum like i can?”

his voice is low and hushed and it’s making your head spin. even over the booming music from outside his door, all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears and his slight pants.

“you’re mine.” he says without a shadow of a doubt. “and i take care of what belongs to me. got that?”

you don’t have a chance to reply when he’s tightening his grip around your throat and smashing his lips against yours. he laughs against your mouth when you let out a choked moan into his, easing his hold on you.

his free hand finds its way under your skirt, rubbing your cunt through your embarrassingly wet panties. seungcheol moans when he feels it. the lace growing wetter with every movement.

he pulls back, observing your glassy eyes and the way your wet, swollen lips part to emit a whine. his cock can’t help but twitch under the confinement of his jeans. “don’t even need me to prep you, do you, baby?” he breathily asks. “you’re soaking my hand through your panties, poor thing.”

you shake your head fervently, “just need you inside of me. please.”

“i know you do, such a needy baby. going around and telling everyone how you need someone to fuck you.” he coos, fingers catching your clit and rubbing into the sensitive clothed bud. your hands grasp at the hem of his shirt, trying to gyrate your hips for more, but you fail miserably. “impatient, too.” he hums.

“fuck, cheol, please!” you whine desperately.

he groans, ripping his hands away from you entirely before spinning you around and pressing your front against the door. you softly gasp as your cheek smooshes against the wooden door.

you hear the clanking of his belt and the zip of his zipper and you can barely contain your excitement. you flatten your palms on the door, arching your back and wiggling your ass in front of him.

he grunts at the sight, flipping your dress up and pulling your panties to the side. he slots his heavy tip between your lips and runs it through your drenched folds.

a mewl erupts in your chest when you finally feel the fat head of his cock slip into you, stretching you open as he pushes himself deeper and deeper till he’s fully sheathed inside of you. he grazes right against your spongy spot and it has your hands clawing at the door.

seungcheol lets you adjust to the sheer size of him for all but a minute before he’s pulling out and thrusting back into you.

and when his arm wraps around your middle, fingers diligently rubbing into your clit, you can’t hold the cry back. his name leaves your mouth rather loudly and you’re starting to feel grateful for the rambunctious party.

his laughs airly, “this what you wanted, baby? wanted to get fucked, yeah?”

pained pleasure shoots through your body with every thrust, every bump to your cervix, every dirty word he grunts into the hot room, and it feels fucking fantastic. you clench around him, velvet walls squeezing him tight as if they’re trying to mold to the shape of him.

“cheol!” is the only coherent thing that you can get out as his balls lewdly and rapidly slap against your cunt.

“getting close? you ‘bout ready to cum for me?” he groans, mercilessly driving into you. you probably can’t hear him over the sounds of your moans, so he just rubs circles deeper into your clit, feeling you clamp around his cock for the nth time.

you sob, a coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter before you jerk. your walls flutter and pulse around him as you let go, creaming his dick just like you’ve wanted to all night long. you practically go limp in his arms, orgasm turning your entire body to jelly.

he groans, both of his arms now around your middle as he uses you till he reaches his own high. he’s moaning out your name as he shoots his load into your battered cunt, his warmth overflowing inside of you.

and when he draws out of you, still panting and on a high, he pulls your panties back over your cunt and stands you up straight.

you look breathless and dazed and he can’t help but grin at you.

“now why don’t we go back downstairs and enjoy the lame party?”

#[ birthday bash ! ]#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #[ ⭐️: mutuals ! ]#[ 🌷: kai ! ]#[ 🍒: seungcheol ! ]

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dhampling · 3 months

Text

the shepherd, the black sheep gn!reader, 2k

“Oh, come on now. It’s ok. They’ll come back, or they won’t.’ He sidles over and sits next to you. A toothy grin. ‘It could be worse. We could be here without each other.” - a plummet into a chasm leaves you and your light-fingered friend stuck. together, you wonder if you'll ever emerge again.

word count: 2,054

as always, a big thank you to the nonnie who sent me the prompt: 'Tav/Reader & Astarion get trapped together somewhere during a mission and have to deal with the isolation and anxiety of waiting to be rescued by their other companions' - i hope i did it justice <3

He rolls his thumb and forefinger as he casts an absent glare into your makeshift fire. Sniffs. Whets his lips.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” He asks into the open space.

You’re on the other side of the cavern, triple checking for access points you may have missed on your prior patrols.

It’s been a fraught few days but with the rescue of Halsin came much-needed information. A path to the heart of the Absolute. Finally your journey had a destination, and you’d started to gather momentum in knowing you had a set route to travel.

If Astarion’s revelation had only come a little later there’s no doubt your friends would be clamouring to save you both now.

He knows the camp is wary of him, even more so than before. You made clear in no uncertain terms that anyone unhappy with his vampiric presence was welcome to leave the party as soon as they pleased. He heard the rumbles, the whispers. The staunch distaste for your decision and the following questions on your capacity to make them.

The threat of a power vacuum seems only amplified by your current situation.

Lost in a deep cavern following a fall from a hefty chunk of loose rock, just the two of you. The shepherd, the black sheep. Your companions promising to return but with little by way of a plan to do so.

It was only your decision to cast Feather Fall prior to crossing that you both survived the plummet.

He is simultaneously overwhelmed with gratitude, and furious beyond measure.

Overwhelmed to the point of nausea. Deep, horrid nausea that seeps into his bones every time he’s conscious of it. A pounding headache, a splitting skull, a million times ‘why’; the way you reach for his hand in the darkest nights and it feels like a balm. Your neck on a platter. You listen to him and it feels as if the gods finally heard his call.

Incensed - pitifully - because he wishes with hindsight that he’d found a means to stop you casting the spell. He’d finally be dead, somewhere Cazador would never find him; and whatever tale the sordid scars on his back told would rot with him. He’d be left in peace in this cool, damp darkness and nothing would be able to mutilate any part of him again, minus the rats that’d very likely feast on his corpse.

How very funny. It almost seemed a shame to deprive himself of experiencing that one while still having a brain. The irony.

There’s peace here, in the drip-drops and the echoes. An ambience of sorts. A spacious tomb for his undead soul to frolic and haunt for all eternity. Maybe he’d set up his tent so he’d have somewhere for his ethereal spirit to lounge, put the bottles and bedrolls out. He did fall with his pack, after all.

But you’d be dead, too.

He’d suffer the fall twice. Break his own neck, garrotte himself in unholy witness of whichever reaper came for you. Slam onto the floor of the cavern, repeatedly; until whatever remained of his mangled brain could be assured of your own safety and he could finally fucking die.

Having something to die for.

Now that’s a novel concept.

You amble your way back over to him, rubbing your forearm as you search the darkness mindlessly.

“Don’t know. They’re under no obligation to, I suppose.”

“Easy way to do away with us.” Astarion ponders.

“You might just be right.”

You sink to the floor, wrapping your arms around now-crossed legs and exhaling softly.

“Oh, come on now. It’s ok. They’ll come back, or they won’t.’

He sidles over and sits next to you. A toothy grin.

‘It could be worse. We could be here without each other.”

When he says this, he expects you to flail your arms and chide him for his ill-timed attempt at humour. Tell him that you’d rather be here with anyone else in camp, that you hate the fact you’re so uncertain as to whether they’re coming back for you. Freak out in the way mortals often do. Reveal all those horrid little doubts over your staunch protection of him that he fears are stewing under the skin.

Instead, you meet his eyes and freely give a small smile.

“Right again. Making a habit of this.”

“I’ll be careful darling. I wouldn’t want to set expectations now, would I?”

He can tell you’re uneasy, but he doesn’t seem to be the cause. Not remotely. If your body is anything to go by then he’s a solace here for you.

For some reason, that suspicion makes him feel warmer.

You look over the packs. You’re unsure how long you’ll be down here, or whether you should be preparing for the worst case scenario where food is concerned; but hunger pangs are worming their way through you already and you’re cursing the single coffee you had back at camp.

You’d like to think your new friends wouldn’t leave you here. Obviously far too optimistic a perspective for someone with a mind flayer parasite currently lodged in their head, but without hope you wager you’d very quickly become completely despondent.

In your mind, either possibility is a very real one.

Astarion tilts his head to the side to make room for your own atop his shoulder.

The gesture surprises you in its intimacy. Not that you’ve noticed in any way aside from the purely observational, but his desire for physical contact seems relegated to that which is utterly necessary and nothing more.

The nights he has touched you have felt so.

This doesn’t feel necessary.

But it’s welcome, nonetheless.

“What can I do, my sweet? How can we make - this - easier.” He poses with a hint of a playful tone.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are, Astarion.”

He shakes his head and smiles with mirth.

“No, no. Not unless that was a proposition on your part?”

He turns and looks down at you softly.

“Maybe later. I’m just cold.” You speak with little conviction.

No emotion, just absence. He wonders if you’re actually considering letting him warm you through. A service he finds himself surprisingly willing to offer, wanting to even; his brain struggling to consider it a service when he’d derive such genuine pleasure from burying his icy fingers deep into the valleys of your warm flesh, head reverently planting kisses on your heated belly; holding your blazing torso against his. Tarse twitches.

Astarion hums.

“I could try to make you something, if you like?”

You scoff, a slight smile returning to your cheeks.

“Thank you, but I’ll decline. Tell me when the last time you cooked was again?”

He errs a little, wobbling his head and gesticulating softly.

“Details, darling, details.”

You both sit in silence for a few moments, undoubtedly thinking the same things. Mulling over the choices that led you here. There’s a fondness, though. A lack of regret. What will be, will be.

“Was there wine in your pack?” You break the silence.

His head perks up.

“Fancy a lock-in?” He grins cattishly.

For the first time since your fall, you smile completely uninhibited.

“Gods, I think so. Not much else to be done, is there?”

It’s cosy.

Inside Astarion’s tent are both bedrolls, plus whatever cushions and blankets you could find within your bags of holding; and copious bottles of wine plucked unceremoniously from the stockpile before heading out.

“I didn’t know if they’d take it as an opportunity to mutiny. Cast me aside, leave me to die. I had to take some of the good stuff with me just in case.” He grins.

“I can’t believe I’m so glad to find out you’ve been stealing from the group’s resources.” You lean back, enjoying the warmth of the fire on your icy flesh.

He scoffs.

“What?! It’s hardly an ongoing pursuit.’

He sips. Lowers his voice.

‘I don’t particularly want to give them more of a reason to stake me.”

Hearing his resigned tone makes your heart ache a little.

“They’d have to stake me too. I’d move too fast for that, obviously.” You mimic quick gestures with your hands, monk-style. He splutters on his wine.

“What on earth was that?”

“A demonstration of my battle prowess?”

You chop again with your hands, moving quicker as he folds with laughter.

“The focus in your eyes, darling. It’s remarkable.” He breathes heavily.

“Obviously? I’m ensuring they can’t stake either of us?”

You commit to the bit, chopping in the space all around you until your companion has tears in his eyes and is gasping for unnecessary breath.

“Thank gods I have a hero like you to protect me, hm? My knight in shining armour.” He practically purrs, wiping the tears and resting on his elbow.

“Just be thankful you’re not the one who has to fight against these hands.” You shake your head and dust them off with exaggerated finesse.

“I’d feel sorry for the poor bastard who does.”

He likes how absolutely ridiculous you are at this moment. It’s sobering. Two hundred years and he hasn’t seen someone with quite the ability to create a levity like you just brought to the situation.

Your devotion - though used in jest - doesn’t pass him by unnoticed, either.

A beat of silence.

You pour another big goblet of wine and stare into the abyss.

“What if we are just stuck down here?”

He ruminates, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Then we have three options.’

He looks at you.

‘One. We find a way to climb that crag right to the very top.’

You both look up to where he points. Above you, minus some jutting rock, is a chasm as wide as the sky.

‘Two. We repopulate down here somehow and create our very own race of awfully mutilated creatures to fool the gang into thinking it’s someone else they lost down here. We can’t replicate Gale exactly, obviously, but I think they’ll begin to look similar after a couple generations of natural inbreeding.’

You pull a face and shiver. He shrugs.

“Three. We get cosy, and go out happy. There’s nothing we can do from here.”

Astarion lifts his chalice in a moribund toast, gesturing for yours to meet him in the air.

“I’m grateful you’re here.” Your cup clinks against his.

A moment’s silence.

“I’m grateful it’s you.”

He looks at you once more.

He could’ve been down here with anyone. Most of them would have staked him immediately. Said the Feather Fall had worn off, that nothing could be done. He’d have been left here, dead, with nobody to remember the only weeks of freedom belonging to him in the last two hundred years of his miserable existence.

But there’s you. There’s always you.

He wonders how you would react. Whether you’d shrug and remain stoic, returning back to the wants of the masses, just another fallen body. Throw some nightshade into the abyss in memory and move on.

Of course you wouldn’t.

“I don’t regret it, you know.” You speak as you sip, still looking up into the cavern’s sky.

“I- Thank you.’

You sit in silence for a few minutes, the drip-drops of the cavern a calm backdrop.

‘Between friends - you’re a little in love with me, aren’t you?”

You swallow a gulp of wine and wobble your head. Gesture lazily into the air around you.

“Not yet, no.”

He moves to object, but is caught mid-breath.

“We’re doomed anyway. What if I said it? Those three little words?”

You laugh and sip again.

“What the hells. I’d say it back. Hope we live long enough to see it play out.”

Astarion looks at you fondly. There’s a genuine reverence in his eyes, soft and considered; and for the first time you see no barriers. If there’s a future in which the two of you don’t starve to death then he sees you there aside him.

“I love you.”

You bring his palm to your cheek and hold it there for a moment, closing your eyes and nuzzling against it.

“I love you, too.”

He swills the last of his current chalice in his mouth and swallows, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it reverently.

“Now we drink, and we wait.”

#astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 #my writing #angst #lil bitta fluff #mainly angsty

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sagesolsticewrites · 2 months

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hiya! ik it might be late for v-day prompts but could i request a buck x female reader with the prompts 'boo boo kiss' and 'pet names'? where he's gone on a mission all day and she's a base nurse? maybe he comes back all scraped up and a little delulu

thanks so much! xx

not too late at all, Nonnie! Thank you so much for requesting, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! (Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post, or check the tag “Sage’s Valentines” for some special Valentine’s Day prompts <3)

Obligatory disclaimer that I know absolutely nothing about head wounds nor how they were dealt with during WW2, we are running purely on vibes here 😇

Kiss It Better? 💋

Having been a base nurse at Thorpe Abbots for nearly three months now, you were no stranger to flirtatious soldiers. They would wander in between missions — usually to visit a friend on the mend in sickbay — and it became routine for them to try out one or two pickup lines on you. Sometimes they made you blush, but you knew it was all just a bit of fun for them. Had to get their entertainment somewhere, you supposed.

Major Gale Cleven, or “Buck” as everyone called him… he was different, though. The first time he’d come in to visit an injured comrade, you’d stood there frozen for at least a full ten seconds before coming back to yourself and leading him over to his friend.

It wasn’t just that he was handsome — though he absolutely was. It was the way he made real conversation with you in the rare moments where you didn’t have any pressing responsibilities, rather than a few silly lines to turn you red. He was… kind, and before too long you began to consider him a friend.

A friend you had a hopeless crush on, but a friend nonetheless.

Your fellow nurses, and even a few of the 100th Bomb Group took notice, and would quietly tease you whenever Buck came by — though he never seemed to notice how you blushed and swatted away the people who’d give you knowing smiles as they walked by.

Every time he went out on a mission, you held your breath, and thanked your lucky stars each time he wasn’t one of the soldiers being rushed to the sickbay upon their return.

Until he was.

You were in the middle of tending to poor Lt. Crosby after yet another bout of airsickness when Buck was rushed in. You froze, icy veins of fear gripping your heart, but quickly shook it off and went back to your current patient, mentally scolding yourself.

But Harry had noticed how the blood had drained from your face, and gently placed a hand over yours, stopping you.

“Go take care of him,” he smiled, nodding over to where Buck was being transferred to a bed, “I’ll be fine. Nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before.”

You eventually nodded, asking one of your fellow nurses to take over for you despite Harry’s protests that he was “perfectly fine, honest!” and made your way over to Buck’s cot in the corner of the room.

As you drew closer, you winced at the large bump that was clear on his temple, accompanied by various scrapes and bruises. According to the people that brought him in, the landing had been rougher than usual, and loose items in the plane had flown everywhere, leaving more than one soldier with bumps and bruises, but Buck seemed to have gotten the worst of it.

You attempted to remain professional, cataloging each injury and mentally checking off the supplies you’d need. Something seemed… off about Buck, though. Rather than a pained wince or even a brave attempt at his usual smile, Buck’s face transformed into a wide, uncharacteristic grin as you stood at his bedside.

“Hey,” he said in a dazed voice, your name sliding off his tongue with an ease that surprised you, given that he always called you by your last name and made sure to use the title of “Nurse” that you’d earned in wartime.

You nearly blushed at the charming, boyish expression on his face, wincing only slightly at the way the scrapes scattered across his face stretched with his smile, but remained as professional as you could, tending to his wounds with care and speed that spoke to your experience.

Buck rambled the entire time — this may have been the most you’d heard him speak since you met, and you soaked in every word. He rambled on about what happened in the air on this most recent mission, about his friends & family back home, about life in Wyoming.

“Got any pretty girls waiting for you back there?” You blurted out, fiddling with the bandages on his forehead and firmly avoiding eye contact.

“None as pretty as you, darlin’” Came his smooth reply, and good lord if hearing him call you that in that soft Southern drawl didn’t make you weak in the knees.

“Oh, hush, Major.” You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the smile fighting its way to your face, retreating back into the safety of professionalism.

“How are you feeling now? Those scrapes should heal up in no time, but you might have to hold off flying until that head wound clears up—”

“Might heal up faster if you kiss it better,” he grinned, dazed blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Heat flooded your face, and your mind went entirely blank.

Several subtle glances around the room confirmed that your fellow nurses were focused on their own patients. Not a single eye was on you and Buck in the corner.

Taking a moment to gather your courage, you steeled yourself before pressing your lips to Buck’s temple for the merest moment. You were sure your cheeks were nearly as red as your lipstick as you pulled away, checking again to make sure no one saw— the teasing from your colleagues would surely be merciless if they knew.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I can feel myself gettin’ better already,” Buck drawled with that same boyish grin, his fingertips resting over yours at the edge of the bed.

You jerked away, suddenly even more aware of the potential eyes on you.

“You should heal up just fine, Major. The docs will just need to run a couple tests before you’re clear to fly again.” You said before excusing yourself.

If only you hadn’t been in such a rush to get away.

You would’ve remembered to wipe off the bright red lipstick mark lingering on Buck’s forehead.

(Sorry, Nonnie 😇 I saw the opportunity for a cliffhanger here and I couldn’t resist… What could possibly happen next? 👀)

Read Part 2 here!

#Sage’s Valentines #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler major gale buck cleven #major gale cleven #masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #buck cleven #my writing #sage answers

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ahockeywrites · 2 months

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Can I please request with Quinn: ³⁷⁾ “oh, fuck- do that thing with your tongue again.”

thank you so much nonny! I hope you like it <3 :)

warnings: fem!reader, oral f!receiving, beard burn, 18+ only!!! authors note: prompt list is here, please send things in :)

your legs hung over Quinn’s shoulders, feet dangling as he feasted on your cunt. it was a place he found himself often. he loved the taste of you, listening to the moans you made as his tongue explored all of you.

his hands rounded your ass, pulling your core closer to his face. your hips began to move of their own accord, grinding down onto his beard. the feeling of the slightly scratchy skin on his chin felt delicious on your thighs and you wanted more.

then Quinn did the thing. you didn’t know what the thing was, but you knew you loved it and every single time he did it, you wanted more.

“oh fuck,” you moaned, hands moving from gripping the comforter to his dark locks. “again quinny.”

“again what darling?” he asked, pulling away from your pussy slightly, beard covered in your juices.

“do that thing with your tongue again,” you groaned, needing him back where he wanted to go.

“your wish is my command.”

#ahockeywrites #smutty sunday #nhl imagine #hockey writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey story #nhl writing #nhl fic #qh43

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futurecorps3 · 1 year

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Hi!! I would like to request Kaz x f!reader

I’m so sorry that this is so long and if this isn’t making any sense I can’t explain things for the life of me😭 If you do write this, thank you so much, ily :)

Anyway picture this, a reader who is quite sneaky decides that it would be very funny if she snuck a little note with something like „I live for the way you smile so brightly” into Kaz’s coat when he’s not looking. She manages and when Kaz doesn’t bring it up at all, she sneaks another note in. This continues bcs the reader just thinks Kaz is ignoring it and automatically throwing out the notes without reading them or smth. Over the time the notes get a little bit more brave like „you looked very pretty today, Brekker” and become genuine copmliments. Now i have two ideas how could the ending go. Kaz just casually mentions in a conversations with reader the sweet notes which reader is completely shocked by Or reader finds themselfs curiosly looking around Kaz’s office and stumbles upon a little box on his table. Thinking it’s gonna be some kind of jewelry she opens it and sees ALL the notes she snuck into his coat. But uhoh Kaz steps into the office and his eyes widen when he sees reader standing over the box. Reader gets flustered trying to explain what the fuck was she even doing there but is greeted by Kaz’s silence. He’s embarrased about her now knowing that he has been keeping the little notes since the very beginning ijsksjdks istg I’m going insane

𝐒𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲

Masterlist<3

Summary: The one where Y/N thinks she's being sneaky. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: None I think!! Word Count: 2.3K Requested: Yes

A/N: YES YES YES YES I LOVE THIS!!!! I wanted to use the one where he mentions it casually in a conversation but it all led to reader finding out by accident. Tysm nonnie, enjoy, I'm sorry about the huge delay. Tough couple of months, hope u understand and that I did justice to this beautiful prompt, ily2 <3

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It all started as some stupid game. One only Y/N knew about. Everything about it was very silly, the sneaking around, coming up with what the note would say and when to put it inside his coat's pocket. The first time, the girl snuck the neatly folded paper when he excused himself to go to the restroom and left his jacket behind. Easy.

It read 'Your smile lights up the room, Brekker'. Cheesy, untrue and quite simple. She'd bet all her kruge on it, though. That bastard had a wickedly expressive smirk, so his full smile must be as sentimental as his smirk, right? Maybe her note would make him giggle in the confines of his office, maybe Kaz would burn the paper or toss it in the trashcan he so neatly kept under his desk. Truth is, Y/N didn't have an explanation or reason as to why she started all this nonsense.

The prospect of making Kaz angry or laugh even when she wouldn't witness it was probably it. The girl happened to be a sucker for the adrenaline rush of delivering her teasingly sweet notes, too. She got bolder and more creative, even getting the chance to sneak one during a job where she and Kaz had to pair up.

None of the crows knew except for Jesper, and surprisingly, he didn't tease her about it. When he caught her tucking a little pink piece of paper into the inner pocket of his boss' coat, he scoffed with a little smile and downed his whiskey glass.

"What on earth does it say and... why?" Jes smirked as Y/N returned to her seat next to him. "Not relevant, my friend. Don't snitch," "I could never, love." He laughed at his friend's eccentricities and let it slide. Another little secret shared between them wouldn't hurt nobody. Plus, her favorite sharpshooter had plenty to say when he was there to see Kaz discover the notes.

"I'm telling you, he smiled!" "Jesper, I don't care if he did," the girl giggled. She did. She cared a lot. "Kaz Brekker doesn't smile" "He did that weird upside down frown, not quite a smile, but he wasn't exactly displeased." Y/N had to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks by turning around, downing her glass of scotch. Had she really made Kaz smile? Or, somewhat, change that angry expression he seemed to keep, like it was carved carefully and perpetually on the sharp features of his face? There has to be an award to that, she thinks.

That note she remembered; there was a playful banter happening like many times before at the slat between the crows. They were all sitting down at one of the tables after a long day of kicking out pigeons upset because they lost all their money, drinks and giggles shared in a tired, dazed stupor.

"There is no way we could've made it without him. I mean, imagine me trying to carry Nina's dead-weight down two flights of stairs and out of that house." Y/N laughed as they recalled how useful Matthias turned out to be. "He's my favorite" Nina smiled, kissing the Fjerdan's cheek as he smiled proudly with a light red tint on his face (could be from the alcohol but they all knew his girlfriend made him nervous).

"And Inej, dear, I know I'm yours" the grisha teased her friend, pulling her close as the Suli girl smiled, not confirming or denying the allegations. Then Wylan, a bit tipsy and, for some reason defensive, hugged his boyfriend and declared: "Well, Jesper's my favorite," downing his glass. Jesper pulled it aside, pecking his head lovingly. "Inej's mine".

Wylan perked up from his place in Jes' arms with his mouth agape, making everyone break in laughter as the couple argued, their demo-man leaving the table with his boyfriend chasing after him trying not to laugh "Wait, dear I-I'm joking!" "No you were not! Take the couch". After they all calmed down, Matthias finally spoke. "Demjin, tell us, who's your favorite?".

Theatrical silence fell over the group. Kaz's heart sped up a little and Nina could tell, but said nothing. Then, as he scanned the group with a light smirk and his eyes lingered on Y/N for a minute longer, it sped up even more to then recede. "Oh, I know," the heartrender laughed, grabbing her glass to pour more alcohol on it. "You don't, Nina. I don't have favorites. You're all pretty solid assets," he said, voice deep and Y/N wondered how it would sound whispered in her ear.

"That's the closest we're getting to an 'I love you', guys. Hate to break it to you" Inej joked as everyone agreed. After a few more minutes, too tired to keep going, they all went to bed. Kaz woke up the next day to a note on his doorstep that said 'you're my favorite'. It was a bit different from the others he kept in his office. The letter was cursive, written in a rush on a slightly yellow piece of paper. Black ink.

"You plan on ever telling her?" A voice came from his side. Jesper stood, still in his white sleep shirt and trousers. "No one makes you smile. You should tell her, you know, at least." He was greeted by his boss's silence and the sound of his door closing.

Now, of course he knew. In fact, he figured it out after the fourth note or so, but Y/N didn't need to know that. Selfishly, he had been keeping that weird aching in his chest the girl brought all to himself for almost a year and it was getting tiring. Until he figured it out. He just hoped, to anyone who was willing to listen, that the notes weren't some joke for her.

He hoped that all those nights they spent enjoying the silence, the conversations where he'd let the wounded boy talk instead of the bastard of the barrel and she would listen attentively, almost lovingly, meant something to her. And that the notes were her way of saying 'I'm here and I'm not planning on leaving anytime soon'.

Y/N knew the game she came up with ended up being a breath of fresh air for all the compressed feelings she had for the boy. She had no problem with it. In the end, she was telling him every single thought that crossed her mind when those icy blue eyes turned into warmth when they were alone and he let his guard down. The things she knew she'd never say to Kaz's face.

Or so she thought.

It was a big coincidence, like a butterfly effect. Y/N came back from one of her many investigations (a trip to the Geldstraat to gather some information) and was walking up the stairs to Kaz's office to tell him what he found out. "Turns out you were right, he has two kids" she began, entering to an empty room. She should've left, see if he was in his room or downstairs watching the tables. Yet she didn't leave. Instead, with a heavy sigh, she sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

It gave off more of the energy from a studio rather than an office. He seemed to appreciate neatness, from the bookshelves with books arranged alphabetically to the candles placed in the appropriate places so the room could be lit perfectly at night. So, of course, she was going to notice the rectangular red box sitting messily on top of a stack of papers right in front of her.

Again, would've, could've, should've stayed in the chair. She got up and peeked. A shock ran through her body, suddenly feeling so very cold she almost turned to see if the window was open. There sat all of her notes, some a bit more used, probably from him folding and unfolding them several times. At the top was the one she sneaked just that morning; "I sometimes wonder if you think about me just as much as I do. Probably not. Have a good day, though".

A million questions running through her head. Why was he keeping them? Did he know she sent them? And most importantly, why was she so stupid!? Y/N could've just... not! Just not write those stupid notes like she had some stupid teenage crush on stupid Kaz and keep her stupid feelings to her stupid self. But no. She always had to be too much, huh? Her words and emotions spilled out of her like a river. The thing was so big it showed over her wrist.

The creek of the door. She was so inside her head she didn't hear Kaz's steps. Shit. Shit. Shit. Hoping it was her imagination playing tricks on her, she turned around. Hope died and there stood Kaz Brekker, wide-eyed and pale as a corpse. She felt like she had to say something and saints she tried, but the knot on her throat only let a choked, unintelligible sound.

It could've been hours, really. Both of them just stared at each other. Kaz was so unbelievably embarrassed he wanted to ask Jesper to just shoot him in the head to end his suffering, begging on his knees for someone to come and help him. He was never this careless, not with things like the notes. He left them out, going through them for the fourth time that week, to get a drink downstairs. How did he miss Y/N walking through the door?

"Kaz I was just here t-to uhm tell you what I found out on G-Garson. I promise I didn't mean to snoop around l-like I wasn't looking through your stuff. A-anyway who a-are these from? They're very swe-" "You don't have to pretend, Y/N."

He knew. A new dread consumed her, and she dropped her eyes to the floor as quick as humanely possible. So stupid. So stupid. "So stupid" "What?" said Kaz, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was keeping in "I'm so stupid, I'm sorry, Kaz. I-I don't know why I wrote those". Was she truly apologising to him, her head bowed in shame? For what? He looked forward to discovering one of those sweet little notes every day, wondering what kind of message she had left him this time.

Hope. He remembered the hope. Maybe he was this upset because the notes would stop now that she knew he knew? His eyes widened even more when he realized Y/N was standing right in front of him, waiting for Kaz to step out of the way so she could escape this torture. "You're right. You shouldn't have. Y-you should've just told me"

"Tell you what, Kaz?" the girl asked, taking a step back and looking straight into his eyes like he was doing. Kaz Rietveld spoke before Brekker could. "Tell me I am your favorite, that I'm on your thoughts nonstop every single fucking day, and that you consider I look lovely even with my hair in my face. If it is true, tell me right up front. I don't think I could stomach it being some crazy game, so please tell me it is real." Perplexed, she stared.

Kaz wanted it to be real, and she knew damn well it was. "You know I don't like games, Brekker. I mean it. All of it. Every single word is just me trying to catch my name in a whisper in your reactions... counting on making you smile, or at least, to temporarily jolt your thoughts from the generally dreary state they seem to be in."

He led a leather hand to grab hers, tangling their fingers with his. The boy couldn't help but notice how beautiful her eyes looked under the candlelight, warm y/e/c welcoming him home. Making him feel at ease in that saint forsaken land, knowing that with her by his side, everything seemed to be just fine.

"Y/N, since you entered my life, I have been acquainted with a new kind of light. Your presence has brought a certain innocence and laughter that I have not known before. Your character is resilient, as if it has been shaped by the hardships of this city. In my eyes, you are the embodiment of light, and I cannot help but find you lovely at all times, too"

It was a love that defied all logic and reasoning, a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space. They had each found in the other a place of serenity, a sanctuary where they could be themselves and forget the chaos of the world outside. With every passing day, their bond grew stronger, until a little piece of heaven was crafted, right there in their midst.

It was their own personal heaven, a place where they could bask in the warmth of knowing glances and brief touches, and where the mere presence of the other was enough to soothe their souls. They had found a love that whispered "I'm here" in the moments when it was necessary, a love that made a home for a broken boy and a shelter for a scarred girl who would go to the ends of the earth for him.

And as they stood there, hand in hand, they knew that they had found something special. They had found a love that was strong enough to weather any storm, a love that would see them through the trials and tribulations of life.

Together with time, they had created a world that was perfect in its imperfection, a world that was full of love, laughter, and joy. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, they knew that they had found their own personal piece of heaven on earth.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:)

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Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #grishaverse x reader #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows x reader #grishaverse #shadow and bone #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fanfic

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