#sun daddy

Kinktober 2024: Cock Warming

Helion x Reader

word count: 1500

cw: cock warming, cock riding, it's Helion so idk what else to say

"You're insatiable," Helion murmured into your ear, a hint of exasperation in his voice, his fingers deftly unlacing the back of your dress.

You giggled, your breath warm and sweet, like the nectar of the night-blooming flowers that grew in the gardens of the Day Court.

His hand slipped inside the fabric, caressing your smooth skin.

Your eyes, the color of the sun at high noon, searched his face for any signs of annoyance. But what you found instead was a spark of amusement, a knowing smile that told you he loved you all the more for your unbridled passion.

He'd been working tirelessly, poring over maps and scrolls in his study, trying to find a way to bolster the defenses of the court against the growing threats from the other lands.

And yet, here you was, unable to resist the urge to claim him, to remind him of the warmth of her touch, the sweetness of your embrace.

You turned in his arms, letting the dress fall to the floor in a puddle of silk and lace. Your body was a canvas of desire, painted with the soft blush of need.

Helion's gaze roved over you, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts, the flatness of your stomach, the flare of your hips.

He took a deep breath, as if memorizing every inch of you, and you felt a thrill at his hunger.

"I need you," you whispered, sliding your hands down his chest.

His muscles rippled beneath your touch, and you felt a pang of want deep within your core.

"And I need this," Helion replied, gesturing to the pile of work scattered across the table. His eyes were a storm of emotion - love, lust, and the weight of his duties.

"But I want you more, Sunshine."

He stepped closer, his body heat enveloping you like a warm embrace.

You felt a pang of guilt at the distraction you were causing him. But as he unbuckled his pants, the material dropping to reveal his already hard cock, you knew that he needed this as much as you did.

"I'll make it quick," you promised, dropping to your knees before him.

He sighed heavily, his hand resting on your head.

"You always say that."

Before you could protest, Helion swept the papers off the table with a wave of his hand, sending them fluttering to the floor. He sat down heavily in the chair, his erection standing proud before you.

"Sit," he commanded gently, his voice thick with desire. "Sit on my cock while I finish this."

You obeyed, straddling him, your legs trembling slightly with anticipation.

As you lowered yourself onto him, his eyes never left yours, a silent promise that he would not let his responsibilities come between you, not even for a moment.

He filled you up, stretching you in the most delicious way, and you couldn't help but moan as you took him in fully.

His fingers dug into your hips as he guided your movements, setting a slow, steady rhythm that mirrored the ticking of the grand clock in the corner of the room.

You watched as he waved the papers back onto his deck. He picked up a scroll, his eyes scanning the parchment with a focus that seemed almost superhuman.

You could feel the tension in his body as he worked, his muscles tightening and relaxing with every stroke of your hips.

The room was filled with the scent of ink and parchment, the crackling of the fire in the hearth, and the soft slap of flesh on flesh. It was a strange mix of the mundane and the erotic, the urgent and the eternal.

"Don't move," Helion murmured, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining his composure.

His hand clamped down on your waist, his fingers digging in as he held you still. You could feel the power of his will, the force of his control, as he tried to ignore the pleasure you were giving him.

His eyes remained glued to the scroll, but the muscle in his jaw ticked with every shallow thrust you made.

You leaned forward, pressing your breasts against his bare chest, your nipples tight with need.

You traced the lines of his chest muscles with your fingertips, feeling the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart beneath. You kissed the column of his neck, nibbling gently, and his breath hitched.

You knew you were playing with fire, but the thrill of it was irresistible. You wanted to burn away the stress of the world with the heat of your passion.

"Behave," Helion murmured, his voice a dark promise of what would happen if you didn't.

But his grip on your hips loosened, and you knew he was as lost to the feeling as you were.

You began to move again, rolling your hips in a slow, tantalizing dance that made him groan. His hand slid up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in a gentle caress that sent a shiver down your spine.

You could feel his control slipping, and it only made you want him more.

Your hand slid down to where your bodies were joined, your fingers playing with the slickness that coated his cock. You stroked him with featherlight touches, feeling the tension coil tighter within him.

Helion's eyes flicked down to watch, his breath coming in harsh pants. The scroll in his other hand trembled slightly, and you felt a thrill of victory.

You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin as you whispered,

"Let me help you relax."

With a growl that was part frustration, part desire, he gave in. His hand left your hip, reaching up to tangle in your hair as he pulled your face closer to his neck.

"Take what you need," he grunted, his hips rising to meet your movements.

And you did.

You took him hard and fast, grinding down onto his cock with an urgency that left no room for thought. You felt his control slip away, his hips bucking up to meet you as you rode him.

His hand in your hair tightened, holding you in place as he took over, setting a rhythm that was as punishing as it was pleasurable. Each thrust sent rushes of pleasure seeping into the pores of your body, making your toes curl and your nails dig into his shoulders.

You praised him with every gasp and moan, whispering sweet nothings about his power, his strength, his beauty. You knew the words he craved, the ones that made him feel like the unstoppable force he was.

And as he worked you closer to the edge, you whispered them into his ear, a litany of adoration that matched the pounding of your hearts.

The room grew hotter, the air thick with passion as you both forgot about the responsibilities waiting outside the study door. The only world that mattered was the one you created together, a world where you could be free from the burdens of the Day Court.

Helion's hand slid between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it with the same intensity he was using to fuck you.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes rolled back in your head. You felt your orgasm building.

"Come for me," he murmured, his voice low and demanding.

"Come all over my cock, sunshine."

The sound of his voice was the final push you needed.

With a cry that was more animal than human, you shattered around him, your body clenching and releasing in a symphony of pleasure.

Helion's grip tightened, his hips pumping faster as he chased his own release. You could feel the tension in him, the coil of his muscles, the way his entire body was poised on the edge of oblivion.

"Come for me," you begged, your voice a breathy whisper.

"Let me feel you come inside me."

His eyes flashed with something fierce and primal, and then he was there, his body tightening around yours as he spilled his release into you.

Helion roared out your name, the sound echoing through the room and sending a fresh wave of heat through your core.

You clung to him, feeling the tremors of his climax as if they were your own, your body shuddering with the intensity of it all.

When he finally stilled, he leaned back in the chair, his chest heaving with every breath.

You remained perched on his lap, his cock still inside you, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure. His hand stroked your back in gentle circles, a silent apology for the bruises he knew he'd left.

"You're insatiable, sunshine," he murmured again, this time with a fondness that made your heart swell.

You leaned in to kiss him, the taste of victory and desire mingling on your lips.

Unstoppable Doom Patrol #1 [Textless-ish] (Five Scratch-Off Card Stock Variant Covers) (2023)

"Well. Since you've come all this way ...."

"I should let you know something about Miss Starkov ....

"She makes me call her Daddy."

Ten mins prior .....

"Call me Daddy."

Crazy Jane

“Give Me Answers Or I Give You Bananas Up Your A** One At A Time. Peels On!” ~ Crazy Jane

At first I didn’t really know what to do with this, but I think I found a way. Also yes, there isn’t a lot of Yoriichi content on tumblr (or anywhere tbh), so I’m happy to be the one to post more! I’ll do more Yoriichi in the future, as well.

It’s shorter than I wanted it to be. Please forgive me, lovies!

▃▃▃

Warning(s) : Mentions of blood and character death, angst, spoilers for the manga

Yoriichi Tsugikuni x Reader : Chase the Sun (Prequel)

From day one, Yoriichi was incapable.

He had failed, as a son, a brother, as a Demon Slayer. The only person he hadn’t failed was his wife, who was brighter than anything he had ever laid eyes on. Brighter than the sun, even. Yoriichi loved her with every fibre of his being, treasuring every second that she continued to live by his side. Of course, she was a Demon Slayer, which meant that her chances of dying were even higher, but it didn’t matter to him. She was his pride and joy. His everything.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, no matter how risky it ended up being. After all, he had to prove to her, and himself, that he was capable of being a suitable husband for her. In his eyes, such an amazing woman could have someone so much better than him.

“You’re back already! That was quick!”

Stepping off of the engawa, (Y/n) ran to greet her husband at the gates of their estate. The quiet autumn air set the peaceful scene perfectly, as she pulled the man into a crushing embrace.

Luckily, her husband was already used to this kind of treatment, returning the hug calmly. Being Demon Slayers, they seldom saw each other outside of the occasional mission together, and even then they were subordinates, rather than a couple. Still, Yoriichi made the most of these short moments together, knowing that sooner or later, one of them would be called out to complete a mission.

Like today, of all days.

“Are you leaving right now?” Yoriichi asked, brow furrowing slightly, the only way you would know that he was irritated or annoyed. Sadly, you sighed, nodding.

“I got called out for a mission right before you got back. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he hummed, warm hand placed on top of your head, “I’ll see you when you get back, then.” Of course, it was disappointing, having to he separated for so long, but he would survive. After all, his wife was strong. She would surely finish this mission, and come right back to him.

If only his gut didn’t tell him otherwise.

He wished his instincts weren’t always right.

It was a week later when his Kasugai sent him to look for her, seeing as (Y/n) had not been seen since she first went to seek out the demon.

Yoriichi would have loved to believe that she was fine, possibly patching her wounds up somewhere safe. Perhaps she found a Wisteria House to stay in while she was recovering, or she had forgotten to write to him while she was away. There were any number of possibilities that he would have loved to believe, had it not been for the fact that she was still missing.

The forested mountain that she had disappeared in were vast and confusing, but there were only so many places were a demon would nest. Somewhere near a large gathering of people. There was a town on the other side of the mountain, so there was no doubt in Yoriichi’s mind that she was somewhere near him.

And then he noticed the smell of blood.

It was weak, at first, before he noticed it, an it grew stronger. This stretch of woods was dark and clammy, the moisture in the air sticking to his skin uncomfortably. If anything, Yoriichi wanted to find his wife, and take her home as fast as he could, so that he could shake off the dreadful feeling in his chest.

He followed the scent of blood to a dilapidated estate, the gate cast open, hanging from its hinges like it could collapse at any second. The estate itself looked as if it hadn’t been lived in - or taken care of - for years. No doubt the building itself would succumb to mold or water damage soon enough.

Even so, Yoriichi took a step inside, face screwing at the smell of blood that had suddenly become so much stronger.

(Deep down, Yoriichi knew that it would have only been a matter of time until something like this happened. But he didn’t think it would be so soon.)

(He had failed to protect every one else that he loved, anyway. Why would you be any different, being a Demon Slayer?)

Stepping through the house gingerly, Yoriichi tried to convince himself that his mind was playing games. Several times, he almost fell through the floorboards, not noticing that they were water-worn and weak. They couldn’t support his weight. The entire house was a hazard, but he had to search for you. If not for your sake, his own.

He followed the odour of blood throughout the house, finally resting his eyes upon what seemed like all the blood in one’s body, strewn across the room. It had splattered across the rotten floors, and covered the delicate rice paper of the shoji in crimson. Not all of it was yours, Yoriichi knew, as he could smell the distinct scent of demon in the room, coming from the blood soaked wood.

The demon had died in this room, and you were nowhere to be found.

Somber, Yoriichi followed the trail of blood outside, to the engawa. Surely, it would lead him somewhere. To you, even. It was far-fetched, and Yoriichi didn’t want to give himself the hope that you had survived the demon attack. By the looks of it, you had run into an Upper Demon Moon, and it had simply been too much for you to handle at once. He didn’t blame you for losing. You were strong, but he knew many Demon Slayers who had fallen to the Demon Moons. If only you weren’t apart of them, perhaps…

In the end, Yoriichi found nothing. Not even a corpse. Rather, the trail of blood ended quite like he had found it, with a thick spatter of blood, and nothing more.