Welcome to the Re:Kas cafĂŠ, what would you like to order~?
.â･ââË･â･Ëâ˝Ë･â.
Current Special (Hyper-fixation): Valorant + Rainbow Six Siege
"This brew and pastry is our special, if I may be so bold to suggest."
^^^ (Just to let you know which type(s) of fic Iâd prefer to write/will probably write more of. So when it comes to requests, Iâll probably write for these kinds of requests first. However, I still will write for the other fandoms).
CafĂŠ Status: Busy and Making Orders - Requests Open
Current Event: Spooktober's Fright-Or-Fluff Autumn Mini Treats 2022 + Kinktober's Smutty Autumn Mini Treats 2022
The Menu - Masterlist
Our Ingredients - Rules
Ready to order? - Feel free to request a fic!
(You can also use the request box to just chat, I'm always happy to chat ^^)
Number of drinks and pastries being made (requests): 14
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Hello, dear customer! Please take a seat. My name is Robin or Re:Kas, if you prefer. Iâm a Filipino trans-man with a hobby in writing and a determination to populate the web with more male/trans-male/masc (+ some cheeky GN) content! Iâve always been disheartened by the lack of masc/trans-guy! reader content, and the small portion of content altogether for the games and characters I hold dear to my heart. So, I'm here to try and brew some more fics myself. For both myself, those similar to me and those who don't mind and/or prefer a more neutral reader!
(I use a lot of second person perspective (you, your), so most of my fics can be read ambiguously)
Please also keep in mind that this is a side blog, which can't follow back or reply outside of asks, reblogs and DMs! I can only interact with everyone in live posts using my main account @rekas-ava, so if you see this blog, it's just me!
Type: Drabble - 519 words
Genre: Fluff
Perspective: Third-Person (He/Him)
TW: None
A/N: Woooo! We're on a roll! I'll have another req done and dusted soon! For now, here's another piece I converted into an reader-insert! Again, apologies for the short length!
In the solace of night, it is still. Near-silent, bar the sounds of quiet nightlife scuttling in the nearby greenery. The sheets had long been mildly stolen after being kicked up in a flurry of movements- all in the effort of getting cosy in bed.
Though the conditions were perfect, Chamber couldnât help the slight insomnia as he wakes in the middle of the night once more. After being on duty, out in the battlefield, for so long, he can't help the tendency to wake up and make sure his surroundings were safe. That his team wasn't being ambushed. Annoyed, he sighs, eyes slightly blurry with sleep (and the lack of glasses)- before he turns over to face his boyfriend again. Whatever it was his racing thoughts were on about, they immediately silence as he gazes over at a peaceful face, finger brushing against a lock of stray hair. Vincent tucks it back into the rest of his boyfriendâs bangs, but thereâs no doubt by the morning that all his effort would be in vain. Still, he enjoys the pretty view.
His lover's face is framed by messy bedhead, his eyes shut peacefully as he snoozes almost perfectly in sync with his own, slightly agitated breath. The weary sentinel snuggles a bit closer to the warmth his boyfriend emanates, causing the man to twitch and pause before crawling back into Vincent's arms on what seemed to be autopilot. Heâs sleepily murmuring some kind of nonsense, something from his dream undoubtedly, before grabbing softly at Vincent's night shirt as he plants his forehead against his chest.
Chamber's small smile grows with mirth, heart stuttering and squeezing from how cute that was. Even in his sleep he still sought him out; now that made him feel proud. He could see his love's chest rise and fall in time with his rapidly settling breaths as he quickly falls back into his snoozing rhythm- as though he hadn't moved at all. Itâs therapeutic almost, as he feels the stress of being alert melt by just holding his boyfriend in his arms- watching as he breathed in and out calmly.
No danger. No fighting. No dying.
Just them living peacefully, mundanely. Those thoughts repeat, assuring himself that all was well. It was working, judging by how the agent could feel sleep tug at his already half-lidded eyes once more as he watched his other half doze- his breathing mimicking his as he slowly settled down himself.
He brings his boyfriend closer, his hug steady and firm despite his sleepiness as he looks away from his adorable sleeping face to plant a kiss to the crown of his head. There's a slight, soft laugh that follows, somehow reactive even in his deep slumber. Vincent snorts a little at that, before resting and tucking his head on top of his lover's- almost like he wants to curl around him, to protect him from everything bad in the world. The comfort of physically holding each-other, of being away from base, of knowing his beloved is alive and breathing soundly.
That was enough for more sweet dreams to finally trickle back in.
Hi! It has been a while!! I hope you've been doing well! <3
I'm doing quite alright! Still slightly stressed with moving but it's gotten to the point where I can write more- which is nice ^^ I am upset that Tumblr is eating a lot of my asks though :C
How are you? I hope you're alright!
Thank you for the ask~! Here's a sweet treat, on the house <3 đĽŽ
Hello, can I order headcanons? If so, I would like a yoru x male reader with an agent whose skills are similar to a vampire, remember to eat healthy and take care of yourself!! âĄ
A/N: Hello and thank you for your order! It was really fun to write! I promise I am also taking care of myself ^^ And hereâs a note for you to do the same too!
Also, my inbox has quite the stack of reqs, but Iâm doing my best to get through the list as quickly and as thoroughly as possible! Itâs just a little bit overwhelming ^^; Itâs also not helping that Tumblr on my pc is eating my reqs ;-; Iâm glad my phone has all of them still (at least I hope it does-)
â§â⧠Thank you for ordering, please do visit again soon~! â§đŽâ§
Type: Headcanons - 1,222 words
Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Angsty/Hurt w/ Comfort at the very end
Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)
TW: Mild references to violence, reader getting hurt, reader biting Yoru and getting a little carried away but he's fine! + thought of Yoru dying at the very end
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You remind Yoru a lot of the classical vampire figure, to the point where he kind of associates you with some of the common tropes. More specifically, the weaknesses. You may not be able to tell with his prickly demeanour, but he is a worrier- especially with those he holds dear, doubly so if it concerns his boyfriend. He doesn't want you to get hurt, and ends up projecting that whenever he gets harsh.
Que his surprise when he sees you eating garlic bread or chilling casually under the sun. You had to remind him that you werenât actually a vampire, and if they really did burn up- Reyna would have to carry an umbrella to every day mission (You heard her laugh behind you right after. You werenât sure whether to count your days or to consider yourself on her good side)
Though, that being said, the Sun probably does have some kind of influence over you and your abilities. Maybe you have an allergic reaction if youâre under it too long, or it takes longer to channel your abilities, or you could just feel weaker under the harsh light (Maybe even changing personality like a certain FE character)
Somehow, being beside Yoru makes that all feel better, if just a little. Maybe itâs because heâs your ĺ¤ (*Yoru -> night). Your comforting, starlit night in the overwhelming brightness of day. If you ever spill those thoughts to him, he will short-circuit no matter how hard he tries to brush it off. Any flattery unrelated to his prowess in battle is way harder for him to take in and retort, even with his ego. Itâs quite easy to tease him and watch his face glow warm with a blush- like the hue of the setting Sun
"Like the night sky, you're like a blessing to me! My very own good luck charm! Thank you, Yoru."
"... You're terrible at flirting. Focus on the mission already, idiot," // Internally: "adsjjskdjdk???SDAJKDAJHKJDK???"
If your eyes are sensitive to the light, thereâs a good chance he gave you a pair of sunglasses. They mightâve even been your first gift from him! Having seen you wordlessly struggling with the glaring sunlight, he either leaves a pair in your locker or shoves them in your face while avoiding your eye contact. He will never admit that he was thinking about you, let alone worrying enough to get you something. Donât ask, he will scoff and say itâs because he doesnât want you dragging the team behind with your incompetence. Ouch.
You may have keen senses, like Reynaâs ability to hear peopleâs heartbeats. Your eyes are sharp, and you can smell copper like a shark despite nothing being spilt on the battlefield just yet; or perhaps your sense of smell is more distinct. Maybe certain people smell sweet and alluring or plain and uninteresting, if you have the urge to feed just like a vampire. You may even need to feed, in order to recover your strength. (On base, you totally drink from "juice pouches" Like some kind of morbid capri-sun)
If itâs the latter, Yoru most definitely draws you in the most. Thereâs just something you canât put your finger on. If you focused on it, you'd be able to guess where he was with those heightened senses of yours. Mirror Yoru really needs to watch out when youâre on the prowl, that unique draw applies to him too
As a radiant related to creatures of the night, thereâs a very good chance you can shapeshift into a bat! Yoru could never admit it but he thinks that form of yours is very cute. He definitely has the urge to just hold you whenever you shift. He thinks you canât tell, but you can see the way his expression subtly changes to one of awe. No thought, only hold bat boyfriend gently.
Some agents have definitely found you like that, just napping somewhere in the common room with you in your bat form perched on his head. You might even be able to control or summon bats! He put a limit on how many you could summon in his room, though. He's not willing to have his bed be surrounded in bats, unfortunately :(
Thereâs been times where you've pushed yourself too far, the strain bearing its weight down on you. Like all radiants, you get tired when you use your abilities too much. Youâre running on empty when you get hit badly, body too exhausted and hungry to mend itself like usual. Alone with a hand pressed to your biggest wound, you wait- head growing foggier as time seems to all but slow down.
You canât describe the look on Yoruâs face when he finally finds you. Heâs silent, and you can't hear his usual scolding and sharp insults. It's frightening, you realise. More frightening than your possible death. Instead, he's kneeling forward and offering his arm to your mouth. Itâs positively dizzying when you breathe in, self-control broken as your body demands for you to accept.
When you finally snap back to focus, youâd never felt dread like that before, lurching backwards as you try and focus on hearing the thud of Yoruâs pulse. Guilt and anxiety are at the forefront of your mind, with apologies spewing forth and shaking hands. He only brings you into a slight hug, one partially induced out of light-headedness, as he mumbles your name and a partial command/plea,
âTake better care of yourself.â
He makes you swear to come to him whenever you need to drink after that. Yoru can't bear the sight of you like that again, slouched, wounded and gasping for breath with dulling eyes, your skin a sickly hue. He was prepared to offer as much as it took to get you back to usual. He probably accidentally confessed here and now, after realising just how much you meant to him.
If immortality is part of your radiant abilities, deep down, you knew this wonderful relationship would one day become a bittersweet memory. You avoided telling him for as long as possible, not wanting to burden him with your knowledge of what will happen. But one day, itâs inevitable as you gaze at the night sky and count the stars like theyâre the countdown to the day you would be left behind.
Youâre sombre, the terrifying thoughts weighing you down more than usual, and Yoru can tell whatever it is that had been plaguing you for these past few weeks is really piling up. He doesnât want to have to force it out of you, but it pains him to see you like this. Heâll wait, no matter how long it takes to gather the strength
That day, you break. Itâs as he holds your hand gently- as though youâre made of glass. He calls your name, not your code name, not a nickname. His tone is just as gentle, yet firm- steadfast in letting you know he has you as much as you have him,
âYou can talk to me.â
You crack and splinter, caving in to his warmth and comfort. You vent the painful pangs in your heart, the dark storm that rages in your head. All that pent up grief and pain floods out into the abyss of night. To the worldâs night and your night; the night that lets you cling close and embraces you readily to soften your anguish
Summary: Yuri is the water the quenches the flames and the fan that stokes them ever higher. Or: Suppressed romantic feelings start to catch up as this friends with benefits situation dips into a bittersweet aftertaste
TW: None
Kinks: A/B/O or Omegaverse
Terms Used for Reader: Cock, Hole
A/N: Decided to convert one of the fics I made during my month without Wi-Fi into a reader-insert! This is rather self-indulgent since ABO is a massive weakness for me- It's a little short since I don't like writing long pieces on my phone, but I thought some folks might like it! I also think it's a travesty I haven't written anything for FE:3H at all on this blog, so here's a Yuri fic because I think he's neat! I'm also spiralling into my Fire Emblem hyperfixation again since I bought Three Hopes recently. I know I'm late- ;-;
Itâs touches on skin at night, only ever at night- when the Goddess could not see beyond the thick fog, with only mist-filtered moonlight faintly lighting patches of hair and wrinkled clothes. The reflections dance upon exposed skin and floats high on breathy calls and sighs. The highs sing like angels in the dim of night, and those tingly, pleasant feelings bloom like delicate flowers upon your sullied flesh. 'Heavenly', you think vaguely to yourself, before the guilt and scorn of feeling unworthy settles in the afterglow.
Itâs hot and cold. Unrelenting heat boils beneath your skin and sighs like steam at his touch, and for just a moment- you're complete. Like the final stroke of a brush against a littered canvas. Entangled as one, it feels like sweet relief that calms the burning inferno inside for just a few minutes. The kettle cools and itâs like the sip of fresh lemonade on a summerâs day, and you're parched beyond belief... But all too soon that euphoria slips away and itâs so hot- too hot again. Thereâs an aching itch that burns like an addiction, and no matter how much you scratch- it never stops. There is no respite. This heat, this supposed "cycle", only sleeps for what feels like a few minutes. There is no cycle, only a merciless craving that digs its cursed fangs deep into your biology.
Itâs a deep-set ache. When you roll to your side, Yuri is gone. Like the whispers of the wind, heâs temporary and loose like grains of sand. A fleeting pleasure, like the haze of a debauched party you can't remember anymore. The only "mark" of his presence is the phantom touches upon your skin. The sickening warmth pooling already in your gut once again that yearns for more, but just a little quieter than usual. When you breath in hard, like the shaky exhale before a sob, you regret it. It reeks of your antidote. Your medicine. An Alpha. It smells like him. Instead, you take a shallower breath; one that strains to calm the throbbing in your chest.
That relief seldom stays, yet the relationship remains all the same.
You would be a fool not to know this wasn't good for you anymore. That this was hurting you. You don't know how much longer you can last, staring into soft, purple eyes that remain guarded even in such a vulnerable position. It's so hollow. That smile. Those sweet nothings. The gentle touch caressing down your body with the mannerism of a lover, but the method of a stranger. It's so painfully empty.
But when Yuri rolls his hips, those thoughts fuzz and blur. Your brain can't think straight when he touches you with such precision and practiced ease that almost made your chest hurt- if you tried to think about it too hard. Stirring up your insides only numbs your head more, body arching into Yuriâs as his tongue laps at yours. It tastes so sweet to be consumed by him, as you lick desperately at his lip to get him to do it again. To consume the rest of your thoughts and drag you further into the abyss. There's this satisfying ache that heat suppressants canât provide. That being alone can't provide.
In the grand scheme of things, who were you to ask for more in this? You are an omega. Yuri is an alpha. It was only natural you would feel drawn to him. Those desperate, intrusive feelings- that unerring need to be loved by him- they're nothing more than the cruel urge to be fucked until you couldn't think anymore. He didn't even need to help you, but he does. That... That's good enough.
You curl into yourself, panting beneath the covers as you call a name you don't quite realise you did. You don't know why you did it when it finally registers. As a new presence paces quickly across your room's floor, you can only cry for that name again- borderline pain flickering through your heightened nerves.
Lavender. It smells like lavender and honeyed fruit; it's overwhelming yet comforting. It spins your head pleasantly, in a way that makes you whimper that name again. More slick runs down your leg as arousal spikes deep in your core despite your confusion. Your hand reaches below your waistband, needing to feel something now you decide, as you paw at your already hard cock and slide your hand down to feel the wet trails running down your thighs.
AhâŚ
You need him again.
When that blur of purple embraces you again, those loud, frightening, confusing feelings dampen. You can ignore your problems as you cling on to him- pulling him as close as possible, listening only to the sound of Yuri mumbling your name. Hands gently push your own away, electrifying your senses as he thumbs at your tip. Simmering in his touch, you gasp and groan when he spreads your hole open with long, dextrous fingers- delicate yet teasing. Itâs so easy to lose yourself when he looks at you so kindly like that. When he talks to you so sweetly like that. When he holds you so tenderly like that. Even if it's all fake, in the maddening pit of engulfing heat and heady lust, itâs so easy to pretend that even for just a momentâŚ
I've just moved house, so I haven't been able to write as much lately! I also had to wait for Wi-Fi to arrive which it did yesterday :D A whole month without internet was torture. Even more so was not being able to use my PC to write ;-; Writing on my phone is really uncomfortable for me, so I prefer just making outlines on it- then finalising on my PC!
While I am still sorting things out back at home, I hope to make this cafĂŠ a bustling, lively place once more!
Type: Headcanons/Bulletpoints - 652 words
Genre: Comedy/Fluff/Crack
Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)
TW: None
A/N: Hi! It's been a while! I hope you've had a wonderful New Year and a fantastic winter holiday/winter in general, my lovely customers! I'll be wrapping up some orders before diving back into my October series! â¤ď¸
Further A/N: It was my birthday on the 31st December and I've just come back from the Philippines. I was dealing with a couple things but I'm hoping to get back into writing! This was just a fun, little thing I thought of while out in London. There was a Wendy's and a Taco Bell and those things are hard to come by here in the UK, haha- and so naturally it evolved into fast food habits nobody asked for.
Of course if you do any of these combos, more power to you! This is all in jest and I just wanted to write a light-hearted comedy/joke piece :D
Neon: Cuts a donut in half and then sandwiches her McDonald's apple pie with it. It helps with her sweet tooth and she swears it's the perfect dessert combo. Will also make you one in an effort to get you to appreciate this sugary goodness as much as she does. She might also wink and say it's not as sweet as you... and then cover her face with a hand because she can't believe she just said that
Killjoy: Puts chicken nuggets in her chicken sandwich and if you tell her that's too much chicken for the bread to filling ratio, she'll just add more out of amusement. If you encourage her? She'll get you to help her put as much chicken as possible in there
Raze: Mixes all the sauces together. All of them. And then she will ask you to grab more sauces/your leftover sauces. Sauces are boring on their own apparently. If you ever raise an eyebrow at that, she'll just shrug and tell you not to bash it âtill you try it. Somehow it doesn't taste bad at all
Jett: Puts chicken nuggets and other random fillings from different fast food joints on pizza and then folds it like a calzone. Has and will defend this to the end of time. If you ask her why she doesn't just make her own custom pizza/calzone, she says it doesn't taste the same
Chamber: Puts onion rings and fries in his burger. It's not really a sin, but he genuinely thinks this is a weird combination/thing to do so he never does it in front of people. He'll wait for you to go to the bathroom or something, and then add them in. Might steal your onion rings and/or fries too while you're gone. I'll cut him some slack, only because he doesn't really eat enough fast food to know the common food 'hacks'.
Harbor: Eats the fillet-o-fish and a random other burger/sandwich combined. If you give him a look, he will take another bite slowly and chew obnoxiously with a smug look. He does the exaggerated "mmm" too and closes his eyes just to hear you laugh and roll your eyes
Sage: Likes the good ol' fries in the milkshake and pineapple on pizza. She really likes the salty-sweet combos and has more of a sweet tooth than she'd like to admit. She also thinks the fruit/shakes help(s) make fast food feel less greasy
Reyna: Uses human blood as ketchup She mixes coffee and soda together to feel something. You don't even question her, mostly because she refuses to explain herself and doesn't feel the need to. She'll just shrug, smile and then offer you a taste- saying it's like devouring a soul. It tastes like battery acid
Viper: Doesnât commit food sins but she did try to poison someoneâs fast food. She just wanted to test out a weaker poison she had on hand, and decided her target would be that one person who wouldn't take a hint and leave you alone. Never leave your food unattended around her, especially if you're going to blatantly annoy her S/O.
Phoenix: Puts popcorn chicken in his munchkin donuts. He claims to be a food connoisseur every time you question it, and that it'll catch on as a food trend one day. You tried it once and didn't know how to feel about the fact you didn't hate it. He gets really excited every time he gets this particular combo and you can't help but smile at his childlike giddiness
Yoru: Probably puts salt in his cheap coffee, it tastes awful but he does it anyway- maybe out of spite. He got the salt from the tears of his enemies. He never stopped to consider that just because he could, maybe he shouldn't. You don't say anything because the last time you did, he drank it faster and then got another
TLDR; The CafĂŠ is on Holiday! Sorry for the lack of content with this notif post!
This is a lil bit of a late announcement, but I thought Iâd be able to finish a fic before I post this :C
I donât like posting notices without content, only because I want every one of my followersâ notifications to have some sort of actual content connected and not just a basic announcement ^^; However, with how much travelling Iâve been doing while on holiday, I simply havenât had the time to sit and write. I also only have my phone with me, and I prefer making basic outlines on it and actually writing/editing on my computer ^^;
I have gone to visit home and family in the Philippines! I will be returning on the 22nd December! So please keep this in mind during these following two weeks! You can still file in orders/requests but I most likely wonât be posting any completed works during this time!
See you soon, my lovely patrons and I apologise for the simple announcement post! I hope I didnât get anyoneâs hopes up! ^^;
Type: One-Shot - 1812 words
Genre: Smut/NSFT(W)/18+
Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)
Summary: You have the pleasure of training with your boyfriend in a one-on-one environment. You take this rare alone time as a chance to push his buttons with little, immediate consequence, but Sova has other plans.
TW: Penetrative Sex but itâs unspecified where!
Terms Used For Reader: Hole, Sex
A/N: Iâve been playing a whole lot of Valorant, DBD and Resident Evil 2 and the urge to make this for Leon S Kennedy was strong. Maybe next prompt- My 2016 Overwatch addiction has come back full force too :,) Also uh, dang Scarlet and Violet came out and I am just so caught up in that rn- I also got incredibly carried away with this one bc itâs been in my drafts forever!
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Sova was always so calm and collected. A reserved archer with absolute focus that could not be deterred so easily. And yet.. The agent knew he had a weak spot for you, and you knew that too. A simple, short cry of pain from you on the battlefield was enough to send him running to your side, though it was fair to say that the same could be said for you too.Â
You'd never tried anything like this on the battlefield, you weren't an idiot willing to dance with Death and Sage's revive, but in training sessions it was all too tempting (and perhaps a tad ego-boosting) knowing just how much your mere presence and voice alone affected the usually level-headed Initiator. It would always start small, gauging his reaction and response before carrying on with whatever devious plan you had for that particular day.Â
Maybe youâd act a bit pouty and reluctant whenever he said your break was up, dramatically laying down and insisting you were still tired. Maybe youâd brush and press your ass against his front whenever you just had to go past him; for another mag of course! Maybe youâd lean a little too close, purposeful hot breaths blowing against his ear, as you purr about what a good teacher he was but you just really needed a certain kind of help. Some form of close contact guidance.
In turn, he would always shoot you a somewhat confused look at first for a few moments, almost like a lost puppy as he figures out what youâre trying. Then, thereâs the raise of his eyebrow, followed by a certain narrowed eye look; a slight tug at his lips. Itâs a simple look of acknowledgement. Challenge accepted.
Perhaps the breaking point was when youâd sat on his lap victoriously, having pinned him to the ground during a sparring session before you purposefully ground your hips down. The only material between you was (besides your underwear, of course) his casual, light jogging pants and your rather thin yet durable spats shorts. His bright, adoring eyes had darkened ever so slightly as he stared at you; they were almost predatory in nature.Â
And, oh, lucky you. You were the prey.Â
The Initiator had always admired your strength, finding a certain kind of delight in losing to you that he couldn't find anywhere else. Your quickening pulse thumped in anticipation as you swallowed your breath and hastily got off of him. That look was new. But not here, this room had far too much common traffic from other agents. Youâd practically sped over to the showers, calling behind you about how you really needed a shower to clean off. Half of that was true, the other half just really wanted to know if Sova would follow like in all those filthy fantasies of yours. Or maybe you just really needed a cold shower to empty that crude head of yours.
With your beloved archer so riled up, you really had it coming when the door to your shower stall was tugged rather impatiently aside. You had barely gotten into said shower before Sova claimed your mouth with his, feverish with lust and wild with abandon. His lips are slightly chapped as he presses them adamantly against yours, before nipping against your lower lip. You answer with a soft moan and parted lips. An invitation.
Your eyes had already shut from the fierce kiss, thirst-induced warmth already simmering hot beneath your skin. The way he grabs at you so needily, desperate to touch you yet still oh so gentle; it betrays the stoic, untamed façade and reminds you of the softer nature of your boyfriend at heart. You try to ignore the sticky feeling of arousal building in your gut. Familiar, bare arms had encircled you with such avidity, pulling you back into a certain warm, toned chest. Now here you were, a whining, little mess as he pressed you against the tiled back wall of the shower stall.Â
There was something about the lack of control, the way he toyed with your sex roughly as he growled lowly in your ear about all the things youâd done to mess with him. Promising silently through his hold on you that heâd pay you back in kind. All of it had you singing in his arms, only spurring Sova on like a Sirenâs call. His calloused fingers drag roughly upon your skin, greedy and yearnful in nature, before settling before your hole. His digits are slick with the makeshift lube heâd snatched from your bag; a pure Aloe Vera gel Phoenix had recommended in passing to use for your face (You were very curious on how his face stayed so clear). Who were you to question the king of skincare? Especially when it made for a great DIY lube in desperate situations.
You gasped and squirmed a tad as he spread you out with his fingers, the sounds swallowed by each dizzying kiss Sova gave you. You feel your fingers start to flex and claw into the wall, unable to keep them flat against the tiles. Each stretch of your hole was accompanied by more stimulation directly to your sex from his other hand or his lips stealing the breath from your lungs, which had you crying out in desperation for your release as the sensations only climbed higher. Your stomach tensed and curled as you arched into him, legs flexing, tensing, and hands gripping desperately to his wrists.
Itâs not long before heâs rutting his thick cock against you from behind, his teeth nipping at the flesh you so eagerly show him. A small bottle of gel falls and rolls by your feet, courtesy of Sova being too impatient to set it down properly, but youâre both too enthralled with each other to care.
Itâs deliberate as he nudges himself against you, low groans falling unanimously from you both. Youâre halfway to begging him as he mercilessly teases you, rubbing against you with the hot, blunt tip of his weeping dick in a way that almost drives you mad. When he finally decides to give in to both of your festering desires, his voice is akin to the sweetest birdsong, arguably better, as he sinks deeper into your insides inch by inch. His thick cock spreads your snug hole out so deliciously full and wide, you canât help the loud keen that tumbles from your kiss-bruised lips. You feel so full and hot, it's incredible. Youâre so pent up from the foreplay, you donât think it would take much to just cum right then and there.
Then, there were voices.
Theyâre just outside, lingering just beyond the doors of the training hall showers. You could feel the electrifying thrills running down your back, of doing something so filthy in a place anyone could wander into, of possibly getting caught. It turns you on more than you thought it would. Perhaps due to the comfortable middle youâre sitting in while trying something new, with just enough privacy and risk provided by the shower stalls.
Muffled laughter and animated talking are barely stifled by the door in place, warning you of your own volume seeping through to the outside world. Despite your sealed mouth, small whimpers still stir up from your throat; you barely catch the soft laughter from beneath Sovaâs breath. Your heart races at the thought of them going inside, and you unknowingly clench around Sovaâs length at the pesky thought. If he couldnât tell before, he definitely knows what this does to you now. The sounds of people only grow ever closer, making you tilt your hazy, foggy head back over your shoulder to face Sova with semi-wide eyes. He simply put a finger to his mouth with a small, impish grin,
âQuiet now, unless you want them to hear you,â the archer whispers into your ear; the outside chatter almost drowns out his words with how much your mind dwells on it. You naively believe heâs leaving you be until they pass by but thereâs this sudden jut of a thrust, pushing and pulling at your slick, tight insides as you quickly clamp a hand at your mouth- your hissing and soft cries barely hushed behind your palm,
"B-But," your sentence falls apart after just one blubbery word, too distracted by the thickness ramming you full with each thrust,
"This, ĐźĐžŃ ĐťŃĐąĐžĐ˛Ń (*my love)..." He sucks in a breath at how wonderful you feel wrapped around him, "Is, hah, your punishment... You, ah, will take everything I give you, Đ´Đ°? (*yes?)" His tone is low and hoarse; it sounds so good to your desire-addled brain. You only nod eagerly against the wall, distrustful of your voice. Anything to just keep him there, filling you up so perfectly. And when he presses you for a vocal response, you can only wail a broken "yes!" against the hand you have somehow kept in place.
The archerâs chest presses more firmly against your back, letting your already heated body better feel his own warmth and underlying strength from all those years with the Protocol. His arms hold you close, whilst his chin tucks itself in the crook of your neck- mouth in the perfect place for you to hear every low groan and whine he spills as he buries himself inside of you again and again. You can barely keep it together as the haze in your mind clouds your judgement evermore with each thrust that splits you apart, shaky hands barely shielding your sounds. His thrusts are borderline frantic as you both climb higher, spurred on by both his thirst and lust for you and the newfound excitement of danger. The low amount of sound only makes the lewd noises of his thrusts more apparent, making your sex throb and ache.
You cry out louder, drool positively now staining your hand, as you grind back against him, desperate to feel that euphoric crescendo. Itâs so close, so so close to feeling that blissful wave wash over you- but- but- Itâs gone all too soon as Sova purposely slows his movements and stills your writhing hips within his punishing grasp. You practically wail as the tension building in your stomach falls apart, leaving you all the more horny and desperate for relief.
With a slight smirk pulling on his lips at your pouting and mock-glaring over your shoulder, he simply leans in closer to your ear to whisper knowingly in that all so husky, accented tone that makes you involuntarily clench around his length again and shudder,
âI donât think youâve learnt your lesson yet,â the hunter growls your name at the end, deep and unmerciful, and you can only pant in anticipation as you feel your stomach flipping at the suspense- your heart trilling loudly in your ears.
Summary: Omen knits you a sweater to help ease your dysphoria
TW: Mentions of Dysphoria, binders and spiralling
A/N: I got an Oodie recently and Iâve been lounging in it all day everyday while I play games. Canât lie, itâs a very nice dysphoria reliever for me and is part of the inspo for this fic haha. Also, for however far I am behind, Iâll be making up for. Donât worry!
âââââ ââ ââ â âââââ
Today just wasnât your day⌠nor was the day before⌠or the day before that⌠And thinking about it, you wondered if any day would ever be your day again.Â
Tomorrow didnât exactly fill you with hope, only the lingering dread of having to face the light of day once more, of having to face your draining thoughts and inner voice once more. If you had to describe Dysphoria? It was like a dirt pit. A dark, deep pit that whenever you fought a little harder to climb out, you only found yourself sliding back down to where you started. Maybe a little further. The edges were all loose dirt and slippery gravel, like some corn silo a poor bird would get suffocated in.
It had been a while since youâd faced a wave of emotional aching as painful and as seemingly never-ending as this. The voices pulling you down so viciously were usually quiet enough to ignore; they were easier to rip apart and disprove when you were so confident and proud... But now? When your confidence was shattered so completely by your incessant thoughts and your self esteem felt so brittle and fragile? Now, you only seem to see and remember everything that felt wrong, even when everyone around you seems to only see the best you. The you that looked and felt every bit the man he is.
Your growing discomfort with yourself only made your bad habits emerge louder, ever more apparent. From staying in your dorm, to wearing your binder for far too long, hyper-focusing and pinching at the parts of you you deemed too âunmasculineâ. Every little thing felt off, setting your cursed brain off to spiral ever deeper into its own misery and anxiety. It felt so lonely, so isolating. Like another experience that sets you apart from being a âtrue manâ.
But your looming shadow would never let you forget that you were never really alone in the first place, were you?
Though quiet he may be, he was always there. A solid presence that never wavered, even when your Dysphoria threatened to wash you under. Omen is your beacon of comfort during times like these, a symbol of solidarity as he empathises with your plight. Though your struggles differ, he sees the likeness in the way he questions every so often if he was truly more than the endless shadow and void heâs bound as. Whether or not he was deserving of the friendship and love he is shown by you and his allies. If he was truly deserving of the title of your boyfriend, when there were others more human than he who vied to be by your side in the way he was.
But you always shrugged those thoughts off, always looking at him with that content, little smile of yours as you assured him that none could ever replace him. None could warm your heart more than he, the agent with the namesake of imminent catastrophe. In your eyes, heâs so much more human than so many people youâve seen. You make him believe that heâs worth it. That he is worthy of love when all he believes he is, is a monster.
So he tries his damn hardest to do the same when you feel down. When you feel like everything is against you. Patient, as he encourages you to heal at your own pace. The time he had off-mission was time he spent mostly by your side, no matter how much you tried to convince him you were fine. Heâs always been perceptive, especially of you and lying was never your strong suit. You always felt a little guilty whenever he did this, but he stuck by you with such stubborn concern and affection that managed to stifle those gnawing thoughts.
Rousing you from your thoughts, Omen frowns a little (something you recognise as the little constant jitter and wave his blue scars make whenever heâs displeased) as he calls your name seriously, making you flinch a little like a child receiving a scolding, âHow long have you been wearing that for?â He points a claw at you, and you only look away guiltily. He always seemed to know when you had it on and when youâd taken it off. You can feel his frown deepen as he shakes his head at your averted eyes, âYouâre going to hurt yourself,â he states so matter-of-factly that you canât seem to find a valid argument. Shuffling with a garment in his lap, he finally addresses the thing youâd been curious about since heâd laid it down. It seemed to have patches of your favourite colour from what you could see of it bunched up.
âI made this for you,â Omen lifts the now seemingly oversized garment up, âto ease your discomfort,â he speaks softly, his posture turning a little more shy and bashful. His hard work and care could be seen in each individual stitch and the various beautiful blends of simple and complex patterns. Itâs like a way cooler, comfier version of your baggy hoodies. The ends of the sleeves cinch to make sure your hands are visible and usable under the puffy sleeves without needing to roll them up. You take it with bright, awe-stricken eyes and a wonder-smitten smile, and Omen can feel his core pulse with affection and pride at making you look so happy.
Taking a deep breath in, you enter your bathroom to change- feeling the tight squeezing around your torso ease at last as you finally take your binder off for the day. Youâre quick to slide your night shirt and newly acquired knitted sweater on, if only to distract from the growing distress in the back of your mind. Shuffling out, you have a weary smile as you spin around to show your boyfriend his handiwork, âHow do I look, love?â
The way the shadows flow laxly upon his form, the bright blue highlights of his face pulsing slowly and contently, he seems like heâs smiling as he regards you. Slowly, he reaches one bandaged hand out carefully- his version of an invitation for affection. Youâre quick to answer as you usher yourself into his arms. He takes a moment to relax, still slightly unused to physical contact, before holding you gently in his arms as he mutters,
âHandsome,â
The word takes you off guard, but in a way that makes your heart leap and mouth twitch upwards in a way it hasnât for so long. Itâs a wonderful welcoming change to the discomfort and self-bitterness. His tone lies bare with truth, and it makes your heart clench. You gladly let yourself be held in the Controllerâs delicate embrace, closing your eyes like pounds of weight had been eased off of you for once. Like a few chains of many sliding to the floor, finally snapped and broken. Youâre almost tearful as he holds you close, yet it portrays all the unspoken love and tenderness all the same. Itâs easy to see how much the usually aloof agent cares for you in the quiet actions he makes for you.
Omen mutters a soft proclamation of love for you in your ear, ensuring only you and you alone can hear; your name follows so confidently that you canât help the watery hiccup and raw sob that forces its way out of your throat. He carefully runs a hand against your back, a comforting touch as he helps you let go of all the pent up emotion bottled up inside. It's just your name but itâs never felt more sweet nor more fitting than when it fell from Omenâs mouth. Itâs a reminder that you truly are the man you yearn to be. Always have, always will be.
No matter how hard the climb to inner peace was, you realise maybeâŚÂ Just maybe⌠As your shadow holds you close, perhaps you didnât have to climb out of your pit alone.
Summary: Separated from your team during training, you find yourself cornered by the ruthless Smoke. Only, he seems very intrigued by your precarious position stuck between him and a brick wall (Set before his move to Nighthaven!)
TW: Steamy but no actual sex, just a lot of grinding, making out and biting. Thereâs a few swear words and he lovingly calls you a whore. As always, this is 18+ only!
A/N: I feel like Iâve been neglecting the other categories of my blog so Iâll be doing my best to touch every base haha. I made Smoke kinda mean + I kinda ran rogue with this and forgot the word counter- Enjoy!
Nothing couldâve prepared you for your impending fate when simulated rubble blocked your path. Your breath hitches as you call to your team, reassuring them that youâd make your way back to them somehow. Ash nods an affirmative but thereâs a concerned look that crosses your close friendâs face⌠But thereâs not much you can do with the amount of bits and pieces in the way.
Quick and eager to regroup due to your nervousness on your own, you cautiously clear your way through some rooms, prepared to fight at any moment. You end up in a rather quiet area, far from the objective as you try and make your way back to your squad. Thereâs a certain looseness, feeling confident that most of them were at the firefight; covered in powder and aching from plastic blanks.Â
Though, it would seem you were rather too loose and didnât look too closely at one corner as you felt the harness of your uniform get grabbed harshly- knocking you off kilter. The surprise left you open and easy to defend against, and much harder for you to fight back. You stumble and flail, cursing your lack of flashbangs while trying to shove your gun behind you to hit your attacker better than shooting blindly and possibly hitting yourself with the spray. Thereâs a pained grunt signifying success before you yelp, hand flexing at the twist of your wrist before you hear your weapon clatter uselessly to the ground. Youâre spun- back shoved against the unyielding wall and your hands pinned in an iron grip above your reeling head. Determined, you struggle again but nothing gives in enough for you to break free, especially with your entire lower body trapped, making you sigh, ready to announce an embarrassing surrender before you hear a familiar chuckle,
âNice try, love,â you can hear the smile in a certain chemistâs rough voice as he leans in close, his free hand unmasking himself to help calm you down from your adrenaline- showing himself as a vulnerable friendly rather than a pretend-enemy, âPay more attention next time. Donât let your guard down; no matter how quiet it is there could always be someone lurkin',â Smoke chides sternly, âYour real enemy ain't gonna hold you close like this either, and they certainly wonât be as drop-dead handsome,â he breaks into a grin, already dismissing the scolding tone in his naturally husky voice and you roll your eyes, almost so hard they strain.Â
Though, you are grateful for him taking it slightly easy on you, he couldâve just shot and tagged you out of the round. Plus, it was a good lesson better served here than in real battle. You were so close to being a proper operator, this simulated training match with and against proper, experienced operators being used to provide more realistic combat/ on the field experience as well as acting as a final test of sorts for each recruit on the cusp of being an official Rainbow Six Operator. It was a high honour you wanted more than anything with how much you dedicated to this path.
A large part of you felt so disappointed at being caught out so soon however, even if it was by your boyfriend, but it was soon replaced by a surprised gasp and hiss. Heâd bitten your damn neck! James gives you a cheeky smile with a not so innocent tilt of his head, âSorry,â he really wasnât sorry. His hands wrapped around your wrists loosen, a quiet way to let you go if you wanted. You stay put, coy as you rub a thigh between his legs- pleased at the noise you pulled from his lips. Thereâs a glint in the SAS officer's eyes as he holds you firmly, biting again with a slight bit more force in rebuttal, making you whine and squirm in his grasp, âYou just look so good in your new uniform, sweetheart,â he purrs lowly, the deep, more seductive tone replacing his playful one making you squirm a little more at the warmth that simmered beneath your skin.Â
Youâd received your very own specialised uniform a few days before the skirmish, and youâd be a fool if you didnât notice the way Smoke stared at the way you filled out the new gear. It was rather tight in certain areas, leaving little to the imagination, and heâd taken great notice given the way he squeezed your thigh with his free hand- appreciating the raw strength and muscle youâd built over your training, âAnd with the way youâre pinned and moaning so nicely for me⌠I donât think I can resist claiming you,â he almost growls, and you have to stop yourself from so eagerly nodding your head,
âYou want that, huh? Make you mine right here, right now? Want the others to hear you be a whore for me during training?â and youâre pleading with the way you grind so adorably against the thigh he so kindly shoved between your legs. His ego is instantly inflated at how needy you were for him already, biting his bottom lip as the edges of his lips turn up into a cruel smirk, âOr do you want me to leave you here? You look desperate enough to let anyone try to satisfy you,â he laughs under his breath at how quickly you shake your head, making barely quiet, little noises of protest- your mind still well aware of the danger of someone walking in, âAh, ah, use your words, sweetheart,â he tutts with feign-disappointment,
âN-No! Mmn, ah, no, o-only you, p-please... Oh...! Only you c-can,â you cry and plead, rewarded generously with a hard yet sweet kiss and more appreciative squeezes and grabs to your form as you rock back and forth on his thigh. Smoke's hand strokes your inner thigh, so close yet so far from where you wanted him, your needy hips grinding the best you can against the sweet relief he offered so graciously. You donât have it in you to argue with where his hand is, not when he had taken control of your mouth already- tongue curling expertly against yours. He tilts his head, letting every whine and moan fall into his own experienced lips. When he finally parts, thereâs a string still connecting you and your eyes are half-lidded and hazy with desire. You crave more, need more with all your heart and soul. It isnât enough, but you know you shouldnât keep going if you want to keep your dignity.
Smoke bites a little harder when his lips trail from your own pair back to your already reddened neck, licking soothingly over the abused flesh. He kisses trail after trail to different spots, sucking and biting at each new patch of heated skin. You swear you almost hear a "mine" muttered under his breath at every angry, red mark. Each feeling of his teeth against your very pulse, of his warm tongue laving against every loving, deliciously sore bruise, of his soft lips against every inch of his canvas made you keen and arch into his embrace- dizzy with growing thirst and need. His insistent, thorough ritual of making sure every visible piece of you was noticeably his made your legs jelly and the throbbing between your legs intense. Yet relief was seldom as you could only sob at the lack of direct friction and touch.Â
Your mind was fuzzy; positively lost in your own yearning and his grip as the chemistâs hands travelled and grasped every sensitive, erogenous zone of your body- harsh enough to surely form bruises beneath your uniform. Your wrists kept themselves against the wall, unwilling to move and displease your boyfriend as he rewarded you with such pleasurable pain. James pulls back, a proud smile on his lips as he admires his handiwork: Your heaving chest as you panted through swollen lips. Your exposed neck littered with his hickeys with tired, red wrists hanging uselessly above you. Your unfocused, lust-clouded eyes and make-out-ruffled uniform ties the whole masterpiece together for him. His wonderful masterpiece.Â
You blink, disorientated and breath very much stolen as he simply straightens himself out- a simple brush of his hand fixing up his assault vest that was only slightly askew. The innocent, confused frown on your face at his departure makes him chuckle, smirking,Â
âI do believe we have a straggler left untagged in this round,â he reminds you of your current training with a wink, granting you a second chance at the fight, before leaning in once more and whispering into your ear, âIf I were them, I wouldnât let myself get caught,â Smoke flashes you a wolfish smile when he faces you fully once more, before clasping his mask back over his flushed face. It almost feels like heâs warning you about himself, more so than his teammates. You attempt to lean up slowly from the wall as you try and recollect your bearings, until you start hearing rogue footsteps nearing you rather quickly. Shit.Â
You take off with a wobbly sprint, shaky legs and clumsy feet trying to find purchase on the cement as you scramble off. James has to stop himself from laughing at the very awkward dash as he grabs and adjusts his weapon to make it look less like he just let you go. His other hand rests on an obstacle in front of him as he looks in the direction youâd fled, panting softly to feign catching his breath. Thank the gods for his baggy uniform pants, he was unbelievably hard after that.
It didnât matter. He was going to catch you tonight, no matter where you ran. And you wouldnât have it any other way.
Type: Drabble - 997 words
Genre: Fluff, tiny smidge of thriller
Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)
Summary: During Skyeâs team-bonding trip outside, you end up lost with your only source of company being the one and only, prickly, and already annoyed Yoru.
TW: Slightly creepy, ambiguous ending at the end!
A/N: Stole some of the mist from the Entity from DBD just to make this setting- Speaking of, maybe Iâll add DBD to the Fandom list. I'm also kind of iffy on this one :C I really tried to paint this like a monster reveal rather than a mirror. Hopefully the next prompt hits better.
â â˘â â°âââ˝ŕźâžâââąâ â˘â
You werenât quite sure when you got split up from the others until you were knee-deep in brittle, sharp branches and all-consuming fog, your poor heart already thumping at the lack of familiar chatter and footsteps. The evening light barely shone through the canopy of leaves and thick tree branches, and the dimming of the world around you only made your mind race with morbid possibilities. What if it got too dark for you to find the others? What if something happened to your friends? What if something sinister attacked you? You were on your own with no weapon bar the utility knife Skye had gifted you. The only thing keeping you together was the rift-walker who was still somehow attached to you, dragged into the mess you unknowingly stepped into. It was a wonder how he managed to find you despite having lagged behind the entire time.
He was understandably irritated at the situation, having already been grumpy when Skye woke the whole gang up at the ass-crack of dawn to go nature hiking. Getting lost, while trying to drag your ass back in line, and getting seemingly trapped within thick, immovable fog at every turn was very much not helping his mood. Then, you just had to open your mouth while Yoru tried to guide you both out by himself (though, really, you werenât sure how he was going to get you out when he knew damn well he couldnât see a thing- just like you). How did he even find you in this damn fog?
âWeâre lost arenât we?â It was meant to be light-hearted, but the tension and growing anxiety really killed the humour in it. You regretted it the minute it left your mouth, grimacing as you struggled to even look in his general direction. Now really wasnât the time,
âWe wouldnât be in this fucking mess if you didnât stray from the damn path. All this just because you wanted to pick some flowers for the flower girl,â he grunts the last bit under his breath, and you swear thereâs some kind of scorn in the way he mentions Skye⌠It almost seemed like⌠Jealousy? Whatever it was, it was gone in the blink of an eye as he straightened himself and sighs, âI⌠Listen, Iâm sorry. I justâŚâ Heâs rubbing at his temples as he talks,
Your eyes widen a little bit at his change in demeanour, blinking slowly before you shake your head, âNo, no, itâs fine. You⌠Youâre right. I shouldnât have wondered so far. I shouldâve asked the others if they could stop for a bit,â you offer a small, apologetic smile but he only frowns a little,
âThat doesnât make it ok for me to lash out at you,â the way his face scrunches and his brows furrowed in both guilt and shame is almost adorable, and if you didnât value your safety, maybe you wouldâve told him so. He seemed a little softer on you than the rest, or at least, thatâs what Phoenix always said. It was moments like these that made you see it. From the way he swallowed his pride in arguments, to the way he patched you up after training, to the way he brought you meals you missed despite his scolding.Â
Cautiously, you rest a hand on his shoulder. Heâs still warm to the touch despite the evening drafts that begin to sweep at your hair, and thereâs a faint smell of something sweet? metallic? carried through the scent of damp grass and splintered pine. Heâs twitchy under your hand but he remains still, eyes peering into yours with an unreadable expression,
âHey, itâs ok,â you offer a smile, hesitant yet warm, a means of comfort amidst the uncertainty that painted your surroundings. Hell, you were VALORANT agents. Youâd faced certain death and worse, surely this was nothing. Yoruâs face softens a little, his shoulders relaxing under your hold. Itâs almost like you arenât lost in the middle of who knows what. Itâs just you two in the common rooms back on base, relaxing and watching whatever dumb horror film you could find to celebrate the spooky season. You give a little thumbs up, a wink spurred on by Yoruâs loosened posture, âThereâs nothing we canât do together!â
This time, he laughs. A proper, little thing as he shakes his head and brushes you off. The deep rumble sounds so pleasant in your ears, you yearn to hear more. You want to see that soft look on his face again as he looks at you, almost like you were the only thing he cared about. That sense of security only heightens from that moment as you grin and laugh a little, if only to brush off the growing butterflies in your stomach,
âYeah, yeah, just donât get lost again. Iâm not looking for you if you do,â he rolls his eyes and walks on, and you donât bother to question where heâs going. Anywhere was somewhere you supposed, as you rooted through foliage laced with tangled brambles and barbed nettles. Youâre quick to thank your guardian angel that you stuck with long cargo pants for the trail. The material barely seems scratched.
You inch over, walking a little closer together with Yoru remaining seemingly unaware, the proximity giving you body heat to fight the passing cold as well as providing a reason to quell your panicking brain. Even if you were lost, you were with Yoru. Youâre safe, a mantra you repeated to yourself in the waves of doubt when your gut feeling twisted and turned. Oh, you really shouldnât have ignored it.Â
Your heart almost trips over itself with how hard it was hammering.
You see a recognisable figure ahead of you: a shock of familiar blue hair, an eerily recognisable bright blue jacket and as they turn, you see a face that looks at you with an all-too confused and frightened expression to continue feeling safe with the person who had been by your side this entire time.Â
I used to have insomnia back then and it caused me huge eyebags and sleep in class but my sibling was able to fix by taking away my phone at 9:30 pm and my sleep schedule is getting better and no longer need my phone taken away
(sorry if I'm rambling and annoyed you đđđ)
Aww noo, you're not rambling and you're not annoying me! I love it when people send in asks just to chat :D Always makes my day
I'm happy you managed to fix your sleep schedule! I should probably try and do something like that haha, maybe then I'll actually have some quality sleep. Insomnia's always been a pain :,D
Hello, Anon~ I've been feeling a quite restless these past nights, but I've been doing a little better now lately. I feel especially inspired to write and provide content for all of you wonderful people, especially with how long you've all stuck around for! I just need to make sure I sleep on time and rest properly, haha
Thank you for the ask~! Here's a sweet treat, on the house <3 đŹ
(I will be making up for the days I missed! So I'm adding 5 more days onto both October events :D)
I thought I'd try out the most popular writing challenge I see floating around so here we go! I will be making a SFW event too! I've decided to try and write a small drabble or so everyday to try and get back into the swing of things, but not overwhelm myself with finishing a bunch of larger projects at the same time.
I will still be doing normal reqs! But I'll also be posting some daily drabbles alongside them to give this blog a semblance of a schedule, and because it motivates me by seeing something complete, even if it's small.
Feel free to also give me your interpretation of the prompt and how you'd like the fic to go based on the prompt! ^^
Please be sure to keep my smut rules/guidelines in mind while requesting one of these prompts!
Claiming
Semi-Public
Dry Humping/Clothes On
Chasing/ Hunter-Prey Dynamic
Brat Taming
Stockings
Bondage
Omegaverse - A/B/O
Praise Kink
Voice Kink
Cockwarming
Short shorts/Tight Shorts/Revealing Clothing
Hidden Toy
Bath/Shower Sex
Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen
Breath Play/Choking
Aftercare
Orgasm Denial/Edging
Slow and Tender Sex
Authority Kink
Breeding Kink
Caught
Safe Word
First Time
Morning Sex/Sleepy Sex
Stuck in the Wall
Solo/Masturbation (+ maybe voyeurism)
Humiliation/Degrading Kink
Hate Sex
Corruption Kink
Overstimulation
"Would you believe me if I told you that chocolate and pomegranates were seen as aphrodisiacs? The more you know! Oh, would you like me to wrap up some from the counter to take home? Ah, don't give me that look, dear customer, I'm only teasing~"
(I will be making up for the days I missed! So I'm adding 5 more days onto this event :D)
I thought I'd try out a month-long writing prompt challenge to give my blog more regular updates! I will be making an NSFW event too! I've decided to try and write a small drabble or so everyday to try and get back into the swing of things, but not overwhelm myself with finishing a bunch of larger projects at the same time.
I will still be doing normal reqs! But I'll also be posting some daily drabbles alongside them to give this blog a semblance of a schedule, and because it motivates me by seeing something complete, even if it's small.
As a heads up, some of these prompts may turn into a horror-esque drabble due to the spooky side of October! If you req something seemingly ominous from this list, you can specify whether or not you want that sprinkle of horror.
Feel free to also give me your interpretation of the prompt and how you'd like the fic to go based on the prompt! ^^
Lost
Sweater Weather
Foliage
Jack O' Lanterns
Hot drinks
Idiot
Moon and Stars
Getting Warm
Cough Syrup
Vampire
Summoning Something
Trick or Treat?
Horror Movies
Haunted Grounds
Firewood
Hunted
Boo!
Night-time Walks
Candy
Ouija Board
Fortune Telling
Costume Shopping
Pillow fort
Aromatic Candles
Apocalypse
Spooky Games
Outbreak
Lights Out
Slashers
Terrible Decisions
Costume Party
"October's rather lovely, isn't it? I love the colour of the leaves and the smell of seasonal drinks and foods! Though, be wary. In this season especially, things tend to like to go bump in the night and they may be far closer than you'd like. I'd hate for anything to happen to you, dear customer. Ah, make sure to eat your treats before they go stale!"
