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#also of course no obligation to do it if i tagged you
butchybats · 1 year
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First lines game
Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you've written less than ten, don't be shy and share anyway
I was tagged by @keepoffthetardis thank you! <33
I’ve only published 5 works so I’m also going to be including 5 of my most recent wips :3
1. Sunshine filters in through a stained glass window, casting the shop in an orange cozy glow that has Stede pausing before the door to bask in its warmth. (I will paint you in silver, I will wrap you in gold (oh my beautiful one))
2. Tonight is finally the night that Guillermo has been waiting for all month; the night where he gets to dress in his sultriest outfit and cover himself in fake blood (important to note that it is in fact fake) and blur the lines between scary and sexy- for what is a vampire if not somebody who makes the blood drain from your face and rush down to your dick? (Baby you’re a haunted house)
3. Candles are strewn about the cheap motel room, some placed on the counter, a few on the nightstand, and most sitting precariously on the carpet. (Borrowed dreams, hollowed reveries)
4. Desire engulfs Guillermo, warming him from head to toe like a glass of red wine and curling in his lower stomach, consuming almost, as he holds Nandor on either side of his collar and walks him back to the door of his own crypt, lips never breaking contact with each other. (I’m not a snack (I’m the whole damn meal))
5. Dark gray cushions stare back at Daniel as he desperately tries to focus on something other than the two vampires sitting across from him, one in the midst of recounting his life story- the microphone on Daniel’s computer with the sensitivity turned all the way up is how he justifies not raptly listening- the other sitting uncomfortably close to him, knees and hips touching as if he’d never heard of personal space, his pointed nails typing away incessantly on a fucking iPad. (Push it away but it all comes back again)
6. Lately, Daniel’s taken to frequenting the nearby cafe as the sun begins to set- the thought being that he won’t be attacked by vampires in a public space.
7. Surprised- and more than a little impressed- at being thrown into the wall by Louis, it takes Lestat a moment to gather himself enough to rush in front of the door, panic coursing through him at the realization that Louis fully intended on stepping out into the day.
8. Ignoring the scene unfolding in front of him, and how it makes something that’s definitely not jealousy bloom in his cheeks, Daniel pulls out his phone to ask google the question that’s been burning in the back of his mind since Rashid pulled out the chair next to Louis for the second night in a row.
9. At first, Lestat suggesting that they bring home a stray cat was only a joke.
10. Vampirism was supposed to fix everything for Guillermo.
Tagging: @partiallyobscure @spinecorset @mhaccunoval @tiptapricot @g0sts @puentera and anyone else who wants to can say i tagged them!
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dimdiamond · 2 years
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Finally got the chance to draw Ange properly and I am satisfied with the result!
I would love to see your versions of them (not necessarily this pose) so see it as a DIY with no deadline and if anyone wants to try it feel free❣
Character info follows under the cut:
Ange Haddock has been using they/them since their teenage years.
They were born on Friday, 13 May. If you ask Ange this explains their clumsiness and bad luck that leads to dangers and misadventures. If you ask Nestor is the genes' fault.
Even as an adult, Ange continues calling Tintin Papa and Haddock Daddy. Calculus is still their dearest uncle and godfather and Nestor is just Nestor.
Affected by Papa's journalism and fascinated by new technological advances but not letting their artistic nature fall behind, they aspire to be a documentarist.
After art school, they travel the world searching for topics for their documentaries.
Ange loves all animals but especially hedgehogs, hamsters, and guinea pigs. They never get another dog or cat as they could never replace Milou and Chatton.
The standing-up quiff is Papa's work as his effort to tame Ange's unruled hair since a baby. Ange continues to do it by force of habit later in life.
The beanie is a favourite accessory for them; they haven't stopped wearing it since their teenage years. Before that, it was a variety of hats (baseball caps, floppy hats, berets, etc.).
They're really kind and well-mannered but, most of the time unintentionally, use Daddy's special swearing words. Despite everyone's efforts, Ange could never stop this habit. The least to say is Daddy is proud.
They try to keep in touch with all their family (all the uncles and aunts) but writing, in general, isn't their best skill so, despite a few letters, they prefer calls and, if they get the chance, visits.
Ange's home will always be Marlinspike Mansion and after every trip, they return there.
I have many ideas for Ange, their life and their adventures, and even their own friends! If you're interested I could share more and maybe someday I could show Ange's stories properly, who knows?
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eternalchant · 9 months
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hiiii tagged by @habit for a little oc parings tarot uquiz ^^
gale & letherii knight of pentacles + the magician
if there's something you want, you will GET IT. nothing escapes your fingertips. after all, you're the power couple. your pairing sparks pure cosmic energy. you're fiercely driven to your goals - whether that be status, fortune, or power. you're also fiercely protective of one another. with the knight's earthy energy, you both prefer to purposefully make your way towards your ambitions, rather than playing cards too early or acting too loosely. meanwhile, the magician's half makes gives you a little fire. if they get too close, onlookers and threats to your relationship may get burned.
astarion & ahshala the tower + the lovers
meeting this person shook your whole world. crumbling down is everything you thought you knew about life and love. their warmth, their generosity, their naivete, their knowing…! you don't know how anything made sense before them. all you know is that nothing will make sense afterwards.
gortash & stigma the devil + the emperor
there's only one religion for the two of you, and that religion is the other. you two are very nearly unhealthily obsessed with one another, and that's just how you like it. when they touch you, they can feel the blood pumping under the surface of your skin. your hearts beat for one another. when the day comes that one stops, the other will soon after. until then, you both will live out your lives in perfect, gothy paradise.
i feel like most of my bg3 mutuals have already been tagged, so umm calling all besties @vanus, @hatefulserpent, @fourstores, @nosramus :)
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stoned-eren · 7 months
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since halloween is SOON (yayayay), thought i’d start a halloween themed f/o tag game!
1. what costumes do you and your f/o wear? (feel free to add pictures or simply describe them <3) 2. what about a fun decoration to put up in your house? 3. time to carve pumpkins! what does your pumpkin look like vs your f/o? 4. and finally, pick some candy/sweets to share together!
like always, my post is about eren !
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costume wise, we both dress as endermen. we were originally going to be a grass block and an enderman, but neither one of us wanted to dress as literally just dirt. so we ended up wearing the same thing.
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2. for decorations, we absolutely have to get some colored lights, preferably orange and (maybe) purple colored. also, anything that's skelanimals related is coming home with me undeniably. whether that's plushies, paper plates, or gel clings... they're being swiped by me.
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3. my pumpkin is the hello kitty one and eren's is the dinosaur one (which i helped him with hehe). eren spent way too long on his pumpkin, taking hours carefully carving it so that it was absolutely perfect. and of course... he drops it immediately after. so there's just a big chunk missing from the dino's teeth </3 we fill the pumpkins with purple smoke bombs so they're like the picture in the middle!
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4. and listen i love candy bars but like... give me a caramel apple, and a mud pie, and i'm one happy lad. our caramel apples are store bought, because we're both too lazy to make them (even though they're just caramel sauce and apple). but since mud pies are extremely fun and easy to make, me and eren have no problem stepping into the kitchen for those :>
hehe happy halloween everyone! your f/o adores u very much and can't wait to spend this wonderful holiday with you!
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no pressure tags: @erwinswings @arlertwitch @dreamwinged @bita-bita @wyvernslovecake @arlertdarling @roseofdarknessblog @chaotic-on-main @averysmolbear @galaxychaos78 @happybird16
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truly-quirkless-a · 8 months
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What Tarot Card are You?
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The Lovers.
the bounty of your heart is abundant. warmth extends from your fingertips, and your smile has the power to light the darkest of rooms. your presence is a comfort– a gift– it is something to be cherished. just beware of stretching yourself too thin; a heart cannot be full if it is constantly emptying itself for the benefit of others. extend that mercy to your own heart, so you may continue to love and let yourself be loved. your chest is not an empty cavity. NUMBER: 6 UPRIGHT: love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices REVERSED: self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values
Tagged by: Stolen from @/nuravity. Tagging: @eraseur, @the-wild-card-hand (for Sero or Kaminari, have fun!), @emerald-might, @modeinthemiddle , and if you want to do this- mate, steal it, embrace the goblin-
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faulknxr · 7 months
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analog principle.
closed starter ft. @agtbishop
setting: washington, district of columbia / temporal bureau headquarters
timeframe: november 28, 1999 / april 17, 1996
summary: “Barreling through time, the two agents from the current — the past — take aim at the future through the cold barrel of the gun.”
content warnings: descriptions and depictions of criminal activity, including but not limited to attempted assassination, gun violence, and domestic terrorism. may contain mild body harm.
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Two dark-suited agents stand on the rooftop of an apartment building in the heart of K Street, Downtown Washington, D.C., overlooking the bleak November slush that has carpeted the road, which has yet to deter the growing crowd. One of the agents, a tall man, crouches. He opens a large deployment case, and a matte-gray rifle emerges in his hands.
Following is a case of bullets, a standard issue for NATO-allied countries, a 7.62 by 51mm. Barrel rifling of 5 radials, with a turn in 11.2 inches, 6-shot repeating; muzzle velocity reaching up to approximately 2,600 feet per second for a maximum effective range of 800 meters. The agent immediately gets to work, setting up the bipod stand and assembling the M24 SWS bolt-action sniper rifle.
Before starting any inspection, the agent performs a routine checkup to clear the rifle and examine for damages. After field stripping the rifle, he adjusts the rifle’s stock, attaches the optic sights, and checks for its zero. He screws on the suppressor. After completing the clean-up, the weapon is ready for service. The agent concludes by engaging the safety in the rifle’s S position.
(This agent cannot see the irony of his beloved typewriter and his bloody sniper rifle originating from the same manufacturer, E. Remington and Sons.)
A slight wind gathers, breezing in from the southeast. It’ll pick up in about thirty minutes, at fourteen hundred and twenty-two minutes, when a lone gunman will come out onto the roof of the Cartwright Building. He will assassinate the senatorial candidate Vernon F. MacMillan, a Republican, courting the lobbyists on K Street, satirically in guns and automobiles. In the wake of MacMillan’s death, someone else will run as his replacement.
In a future far from now, hours and hours away, the forthcoming Temporal Bureau in [redacted year] will send a missive back in time. The current Temporal Bureau in ‘96 will be asked to put their agents with significant military history to the task. Specifically, the quiet and undetectable to dispose of the gunman. Lethal force is allowed, but the agents are encouraged to be creative if they so wish. Just avoid a SNAFU.
Agent Faulkner returns to his full height of six feet and a half and picks up his binoculars hung around his neck. “How is the crowd, Agent Bishop?” He asks his mission partner — correction, primary mission partner as of six months. It has been a month into their cooperation, and operations have never gone through any bumps. Not that Agent Faulkner has expected anything less from a veteran of the Bureau. Agent Bishop is an operative like Stein, one who has had a hand in the science behind time manipulation. Faulkner doesn’t consider himself any bit of an intellectual, so those with genius leadership will forever have his service.
(Weapons are only useful in talented hands, aren't they?)
“According to my watch, we have T-minus twenty-seven minutes before H-hour,” Faulkner states, “would you like to set up your system? In case our proposed plan requires a backup.”
In the United States military, these specialized marksmen are crew-served with a sniper cell of two. The primary weapon operator, the shooter has a support personnel or protective force, known as a spotter or a flanker. As expressed in the U.S. Army and Marine Corps Table of Organization and Equipment, the shooter does not operate alone. A qualified backup shooter is deployed to ensure mission success.
However, what Agents Bishop and Faulkner have in mind do not follow anti-personnel tactics or policy. Instead of assassinating the lone gunman, they are attempting to indirectly apprehend him. In Faulkner’s pre-mission research, he has dug through the gunman’s biography and has given Agent Bishop his report before their launch.
Malcolm Seward, thirty-three, a member of the extremist group the Brothers of Civic Freedom, properly established in late ‘98.
(All groups of terror would never appropriately call themselves as such. The fear they cause is a part of the cause. For justice, when boiled down to it, is to enact the fear of retribution.)
Seward is a poor and uneducated man let go at an Ohio automobile factory in the spring of ‘97 and radicalized through the scapegoating of immigrant workers. He and other disgruntled, disaffected, and deeply disturbed men will take to arms. He will kill senatorial candidate Vernon F. MacMillan and then cause mass havoc while he tries to escape.
In Faulkner’s report, he also notes MacMillan’s opponents, his replacements. Although the Republican nominee does not win the upcoming election in D.C., there must be a reason as to why the Bureau has chosen to spare MacMillan’s life. Further detailed within the pages of the report are all the locations of U.S. Secret Service members dispatched during the incident. The major players are highlighted. The obstacles delineated. All for an optimized run of events.
Agent Faulkner’s standard is nothing less than perfection in execution. However, what he is suggesting means no wriggle room for error. He and Agent Bishop will wound the gunman before he takes his shot, disorient and non-lethally incapacitate him, purposefully misfire Seward’s modified Armalite AR-50 to trigger a response from Secret Service who will triangulate the location of the bullet, and dissemble and depart before detection.
By setting up Seward and implicating he was betrayed by his group, Faulkner hopes that he will cooperate with the Secret Service, give up the names involved with the Brothers of Civic Freedom, and disintegrate the group without the loss of future lives.
He and Agent Bishop will be able to pull it off.
There is a tickle in his throat again, similar to the tiniest twinge of something dragging his words when he had first declared his plan to her in the privacy of his office. He doesn’t understand why he doesn’t feel quite right. He cannot commend Agent Bishop enough; they work smoothly, having gotten to the point of wordless communication during a mission.
(This Agent does not compute his pain toward silence and will suffer in silence.)
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Therefore, Agent Faulkner clears his throat and says, “Would you like the shot or the spot? My system has been adjusted to a comfortable median between our MOA, and the scope is good to go.”
Faulkner lifts the binoculars and gazes at the other building. In less than nineteen minutes, their target will bust through the door, dressed in garish camouflage garb despite the environment. He will hastily set up his gun. And, fueled with rage, he will immediately fire when MacMillan stops in front of a stock exchange building just across their section of K Street.
“We will only have a small window of ten minutes to fire and detain Seward, enact the false assassination attempt, and then a smaller window of two minutes while we both dissemble our sniper rifles and evade Secret Services. This is to say, whoever is the primary shooter will have to communicate with the flanker during dismantling. Throat mics are on as we commence operations. I understand these are high-pressure conditions, so as mentioned, I am volunteering the flank position.” Faulkner explains, binoculars down and resting over his protective vest.
Barreling through time, the two agents from the current — the past — take aim at the future through the cold barrel of the gun.
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iholdwhatican · 22 days
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reunions
pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig
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length: 3.8k
tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension
summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?
author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3
originally posted by iholdwhatican
You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 
You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 
So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?
Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 
He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 
And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 
You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 
The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right? 
Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 
The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 
God, what the hell was wrong with you? 
You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 
Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 
You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 
“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 
You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 
Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 
The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 
You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 
“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 
You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 
The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 
He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 
God, you needed a cigarette. 
You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 
Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 
You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 
He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 
The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 
Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 
The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 
You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 
“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 
You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 
“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 
Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 
“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 
You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 
“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 
“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 
“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 
Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 
You needed another drink. Or ten. 
“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 
“More than anything else in this world.” 
Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 
It made something flip in your stomach. 
“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 
You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 
“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 
You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 
Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 
You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 
“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.
The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 
“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 
The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 
You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 
His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 
You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 
“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 
You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 
“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 
You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 
“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 
Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 
“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 
“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 
You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 
“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 
The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 
The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 
The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 
You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 
“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 
You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 
“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 
He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 
Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 
You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 
But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 
You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 
You really, really fucking liked this. 
When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 
It was unbelievably hot. 
As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 
You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 
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steveseddie · 2 months
Text
since day one
@steddiemicrofic prompt: fool, 454 words rated: g | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush, even gareth knows, soft boys
***
“You’re not fooling anyone.”
Gareth’s voice makes Steve look up, finding him leaning against the kitchen doorway.
Then he looks down at the cookies he’s moving from the box they came in to a plate, frowning. “I wasn’t trying to. Just thought it’d be easier to grab the cookies this way.”
Gareth rolls his eyes. “No, about why you’re playing DnD with us.”
“I just wanted to-”
“Spend quality time with the children, uh huh,” Gareth finishes, using Steve’s words. “That’s not it. You wanted to spend time with Eddie.”
Steve flushes but tries to act nonchalant. “Yeah, with all of you-”
“No, specifically with Eddie. You even asked Byers to help you study the handbook to impress him!”
Steve bites his lip, thinking. “Did I?”
“What?”
“Did I impress him?” Steve asks. Gareth clearly saw through his lie and probably knows what Steve is doing. He might as well figure out if it’s working. “Because I’ve been trying to since I realized I have a crush on him-”
Gareth waves his hands in front of him. “Woah, woah, you can’t say that.”
Steve frowns. “Oh, but you know that Eddie likes guys, are you not okay with-”
“Of course I’m cool with that, Harrington, but Eddie is my best friend. I’m like, obligated to tell him now.”
Steve’s eyes widen. “You can’t. You can’t tell Eddie!”
“Can’t tell Eddie what?” Eddie asks, strolling into the kitchen.
Gareth glances between the two before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go,” he says then hurries out.
Eddie skips over to Steve, grinning at him. “What secrets are you keeping from me, Stevie?”
Steve focuses on rearranging the cookies on the plate. “None, no secrets, nothing, nope.”
“See, I know that’s a lie. You didn’t tell me mini Byers was helping you learn DnD.”
“I was trying to surprise them-”
“I could’ve helped you.”
“I guess-” Steve says quietly, “I was also trying to surprise you.”
“Steve, you haven’t stopped surprising me since the day I met you,” Eddie says with a chuckle. Steve looks up and finds Eddie staring at him with a soft look, eyes sparkling with something.
Something that makes Steve a little bold.
“I was also trying to impress you,” Steve says shyly.
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, pointing at himself. “Me?”
“Yeah, you,” Steve says, poking Eddie’s chest in the same spot.
Before he can back his hand, Eddie wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist, keeping his hand against his chest. “Guess what, Stevie?” Eddie gives him a slow grin, his dimple popping. “You haven’t stopped doing that since day one either.”
And oh, Steve thinks, maybe he didn’t need to try so hard to get Eddie’s attention after all.
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daisynik7 · 4 months
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Make Me Sweat
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Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~2.5k
cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 
Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.
Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 
Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.
You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 
Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”
Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 
Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 
The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 
“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.
Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”
“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 
They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.
Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 
You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.
Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”
Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 
Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”
“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”
You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”
It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”
As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 
“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 
Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 
“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 
You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"
He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”
You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."
You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"
He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."
You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”
And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 
~~~
After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?
You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”
Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.
He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”
You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”
He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”
You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”
He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”
“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 
“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”
“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”
He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”
He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 
“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”
You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 
“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  
“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 
“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 
With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.
You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”
You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 
“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 
You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”
“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”
You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.
He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”
Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.
As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”
It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”
You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 
“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.
He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”
“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 
He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”
“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.
And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 
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juyofans · 1 month
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it's you ( j.wy & c.s )
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pairing › jung wooyoung x afab reader x choi san. about › 3.6k, nsfw (minors dni), fluff warnings › smoking weed, nicknames, threesome, double penetration, riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it guys), p in v, creampies, degradation, praise, fingering, high sex, idol au, mxm content, nipple play, woosan deserve their own warning, lmk if i missed anything
synopsis › getting high with your weed besties is something of a tradition for you. being fucked by them, however, is definitely not. note › when you haven't written since february and all of a sudden you watch chellateez and go into absolute brainrot 😂🙏 i swear i wrote this in 8 hours i don't know what the hell is wrong with me but whatever. also happy 4/20 so fitting for this fic am i right 😝 this is dedicated to my sexy hot smoking wife @yunhoszn tagging › @atzhouse @skteezcursed also @hoshiseon for encouraging me to keep going ily
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“You’re late.”
You scoff, shutting the door behind you. The room is dim, save for the lamp in the corner, but you don’t need light to register the already thick atmosphere of the hotel room and the two silhouettes in the corner.
“Clearly, it doesn’t matter since you guys have already started,” you say, flicking the light switch on. 
San comes into focus first, holding a rolled-up joint in between his fingers as he exhales smoke. The sight makes you dizzy, partially because of the cloudy air but also because of the opened blazer adorning his frame, exposing more than covering it. One look at Wooyoung proves the same, his loosened tie and black jacket strewn across the chair much more haphazardly than merely an hour ago on the Coachella stage.
“You guys didn’t even change?” you gasp, almost accusingly.
“Can you blame us?” Wooyoung responds, his silky voice floating through your ears, “That performance was insane. We needed something to calm us down.”
Wooyoung hands you a joint rolled up perfectly with his nimble fingers, and San beckons you over with two fingers. You shuffle over, watching him pull out his Hello Kitty lighter from the drawer beside him.
“We were too antsy to think about changing,” San confesses. You lean down, close to his chest as he flicks the wheel of the lighter. The orange flame dances across his chest, shimmering with the body oil he applied before the performance, and it’s hard to pay attention to your own joint when he lights it.
The smoke bursts, taking you by surprise, and you cough as San pulls the joint out of your mouth.
“You okay?” he asks, delicately cradling your chin. Your lungs burn as if they’ve been lit on fire, but all you can focus on is San’s warm gaze grounding you.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s been a while.”
“Do you not smoke without us?” Wooyoung asks from the corner. You turn, shifting your gaze to him and noticing the newly popped open buttons of his shirt.
“Of course not. You’re my weed besties, it’s like I’d be cheating on you if I got high without you.”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes, trudging over to take a seat next to you. He pats at the empty space next to him, right between you and San, and you oblige, letting the bed frame hit your back as you scooch down.
“Do you guys get high without me?” you ask, timidly, wondering if only you share this sort of possessive sentiment.
“Of course not,” San replies. He’s playing with your hair now, curling it between his fingers as if you were always meant to be in this position, by his side. “You’re our weed buddy for life.”
And it’s true. You got high with San and Wooyoung your first time years ago, and you knew you wouldn’t have it any differently as you watched them wipe away your tears from the burning ache in your chest and tell you that you were doing so well for them, that you were taking it like a champ and that you were safe with them. Pulling out the weed is almost a tradition now, often finding yourself in the backseat of the van exhaling smoke after a particularly exhausting performance or in your bedroom at night after a long day of work. It helps you take the edge off things, they help you take the edge off things, and it’s a mutual response that all three of you are together when you take your first and last hits.
“Yeah, we’re like friends with benefits. Except the benefit is the weed, not sex,” you clarify. You attempt to grab your joint from San, wanting to experience the so-called benefit you just mentioned, but San holds it high above him in an attempt to tease you and you can only pout in response.
“Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says, holding it farther away from you as you reach for it with grabby hands. You can hear Wooyoung laughing from the side, but all you’re focused on is the prize in his hands as you lean over his lap, your right hand finding purchase on his exposed shoulder as you finally grab ahold of his hand, plucking the joint right out of his fingers.
“Got it!” you exclaim, but it takes a few moments for you to register Wooyoung’s silence before you look down, wondering why the room is engulfed in sudden quietness. You suppose you find the answer in San’s expression, staring up at you, and just about now you realize how imperceptibly close he is, how you’re now straddling his lap and somehow your hand has slid down to his chest, grabbing onto the hardness of his chest muscle.
You think you might die.
You feel San’s heart beating wildly against your fingers, and it takes thirty seconds before you realize that this is wrong, so, irrevocably wrong, and you make a move to shift off his lap.
“I’m so sorry,” you start, removing your hand from his abdomen and bringing your leg up, “I wasn’t paying attention and I—”
San grips onto your thigh, holding you in place. You still, wondering if his touch is merely a dream or something very, very real with even more real implications.
“Do you know how long I’ve imagined you like this?” he starts, his chest constraining as if he’s pained, as if the mere sight of you in his lap is like poison flooding his veins.
“What?” you ask. Your whole world shifts on its axis and suddenly, you’re hyperaware of the way his pants strain against his dick, the hardness against your thigh, and his heavy breathing in front of you.
“Five years,” Wooyoung answers. Your gaze shifts to where he sits, and he leans closer as if this is some dirty secret that’s only meant for your ears. “He’s imagined you in this position for five years, ever since the day we first got high together because you wanted to be good for him. For me. For us.”
And you feel like glass, see-through despite every intention to hide your feelings because it’s true. It’s imperceptibly true that you wanted to get high with them to gain some sort of intimacy with them, a tradition with only you three and feelings that no one else would understand. It’s true that your heart flutters whenever someone mentions it’s your thing with them, because even the mere thought of being associated with them is enough to drive you insane.
The joint in your hands can get you high, but nothing else makes you float like their presence next to you, imagining the way it’d feel if you just leaned a little closer and made yourself theirs.
“I don’t understand,” you say, even though you all know damn well that you do. “What are you trying to say?”
Wooyoung doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours, swallowing your gasp and bringing you close.
You moan against his lips as you press back, too dizzy to even comprehend. You don’t know if your lightheadedness is from the hit you just took or Wooyoung’s lips, but either way, your brain is spinning and all you can think of is being consumed by him. He sucks your bottom lip in between his teeth, biting softly as you whine. Wooyoung kisses you like he’s starved, as if he wants to eat you whole and devour you as if you’re his for the taking, and judging by the way you respond so eagerly, you might as well let him.
“Enough,” San complains, and Wooyoung pulls back from you as you attempt to register what the hell just happened. You can’t even sit still for a moment before San pulls your thighs so you’re placed right on top of his clothed dick. All you can do is fall forward, meeting his lips halfway with yours.
If Wooyoung kisses you like he’s taking everything from you, then San breathes life back into you. He presses slowly, and gently, testing the waters until you whimper against his lips for more. It’s heartwarming how he handles you delicately, as if he’s your first everything, and it’s not long before you squirm on his lap and he has to pull back from you, throwing his head back and groaning.
“Stop,” he breathes ruggedly, making a noise of protest as you grind down harder. “I don’t want to make you come for the first time against my pants. I need to be inside you.”
Still, you can’t seem to stop until Wooyoung puts his hands on your waist. You whimper, almost in tears from being stopped so suddenly.
“Look at you, grinding yourself against him like a whore. Thought you were being good for us, but all you care about is about getting to cum, is it?”
“No!” you gasp, shaking your head, but you know you’re past the point of no return when Wooyoung spins you around, on San’s lap. San wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you close against him, again, and you feel the hardness of his abs against your thin shirt. Wooyoung moves from his position to kneel between San’s legs, and your legs, grinning wickedly as he lifts your short skirt so that you’re truly spread open for him.
“Look how wet you are,” he coos, and the sweet tone in which he says those filthy words makes you want to die, “how long have you been wanting us like this? Five years, maybe even longer?”
You nod, and San sighs against your ear.
“Could’ve been sitting pretty on my dick for ages now. It’s okay, though. We can make up for lost time.”
San trails kisses down the side of your neck, licking, biting softly, until you’re squirming away from him and he has to hold you in place with his right hand. The rings on his fingers shine against the lamplight, and you feel yourself getting wetter with the way he grips you so easily, kissing you so carefully but having the potential to ruin you wholeheartedly.
You’re brought back to reality when you feel a featherlike touch prod at your panties. They’re pink, cute, and definitely not the right ones to wear if you want to get fucked, but Wooyoung seems to pay no mind as he slides them off you in one go, tucking them into the back pocket of his pants. Your top follows next, and Wooyoung groans when he finds no bra underneath, making haste to lean in close, taking an exposed nipple into his mouth.
“No bra? You just wanted to strip for us, huh? So, so easy for us to fuck you.”
You can’t even say no because deep down, you know he’s right.
“You wear these short skirts,” he says, trailing his fingers up your thighs, “and tight shirts with no bra, and cute, cute little panties that drive us insane. Do you know how many times we’ve gotten off to the thought of you, so sweet and perfect like this?”
San bites your earlobe as Wooyoung says this, and you cry out, digging your nails into his thighs.
“You’ve gotten off to me?” you pant, breath heady with desire.
“More times than you can imagine, pretty.”
With that, his fingers finally find your folds, slipping inside them with ease. He finds your clit in seconds as if he was always meant to be there, and it’s not long before he traces figure eights on the nub, holding your thigh open with his free hand so tightly he’s sure to leave marks.
As if you weren’t crazy enough already, San ceases his ministrations on your neck to take ahold of your nipple in his hand, tweaking and pinching until it’s irritated before moving over to the other one, alternating until you can’t keep yourself silent anymore.
“Please, please stop before I— Oh, god!” you cry as Wooyoung slips his fingers inside you, curling them so tightly that it has you seeing stars. His thumb finds purchase on your clit again, never stopping his incessant rubbing, and you think you might pass out from the coil in your stomach building up, the pressure so tight that it really might take you out.
“Be good and let go for us,” San breathes into your ear, swirling his finger around your nipple, and that’s all it takes for you to spill over the edge, throwing your head back against San’s shoulder and clamping down on Wooyoung’s fingers.
Wooyoung works you through it until you’re begging him to stop, and the sight of your cum stringing on his fingers makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. It drives you even more insane though when Wooyoung brings his fingers to San’s lips and they both murmur sounds of desire, and you watch entranced as San swirls his fingers around Wooyoung before he pulls them out with a pop.
Before you can even say anything, though, Wooyoung kisses San, slipping his tongue inside the other’s mouth and licking at his lips. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sight, entranced with the way their lips slot together so perfectly at the taste of you.
“So good,” San gasps out as Wooyoung pulls back, pressing another kiss against his lips before shifting his attention to you. San presses his lips against yours, making sure you taste yourself against him.
“You taste so sweet,” he starts, running his fingers through his hair, “So, so sweet. Let me fuck you, pretty. Please?”
Your chest pangs, suddenly aware of how badly you need something inside of you, and before you can even say yes, Wooyoung is pulling your skirt higher, up to your waist. It barely covers your ass now, and as San busies himself with freeing his dick, Wooyoung makes sure to show you just how much he appreciates you, groping at the skin of your ass until you beg for him to stop.
“You’re so hard,” Wooyoung comments when San finally pulls his dick out, and your mouth waters at the sight. He is hard, long, and curved, and the prominent vein on the underside makes you want to trace your tongue on it until he’s writhing beneath you.
“Can you blame me? They look like an angel sitting on my lap.”
You’re obsessed with the way they talk about you as if you aren’t physically present, just a plaything for their use. Your fingers trace San’s dick, thumbing over the vein, and he squirms, growing harder at the touch.
“I need you. Right now.”
Wooyoung helps position you so you’re hovering right over him, and when San stares at you for confirmation, your heart swells. You nod, knowing you could never, ever say no to him, and he lowers you down, spearheading you on his dick.
It’s not like you’re a virgin, but the way San rearranges your insides makes you feel like you’re losing your virginity all over again. He’s big, too big, and as you lower yourself on him, every inch feels like your body is adjusting to accommodate his length. Even if Wooyoung prepared you enough, San’s size is something you know will take a while to get used to.
After what feels like an eternity, you finally find yourself flush against him, ass pressed against his chest and legs situated around his. You exhale, finding that you held your breath in for so long in anticipation, and only when you feel the slight pain slip away do you signal San that you’re ready.
He helps you out by holding onto your shaking thighs, lifting you off halfway before you slam back down again. The action makes you both gasp, and as you stare at Wooyoung, wide-eyed, you know he’s just as turned on as the both of you.
You quickly build up a rhythm with San’s help, bouncing on him as you desperately try to reach your high again. The praise he whispers into your ear only spurs you on, rutting against him like this is your lifeline.
“You fight around me so tight,” he gasps, “Squeezing me in like you need me. It’s like you were made to be here. For us.”
Wooyoung groans from the other end, and as you meet his eyes again, the sight makes you water. He has his hand shoved inside his pants, palming himself needily as he focuses on the two of you, and you watch as his dick strains against his pants and his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Wooyoung,” you pant, “let me help you.”
“What?” he sputters, coming to a stop as he registers your voice.
“I can fit two. There’s room for one more.”
You spread your legs open wider, and Wooyoung moans at the way your pussy swallows San whole.
“Are you sure?” San puffs against your ear, “You’re already so tight against me.”
“And I can be even tighter with the two of you.”
You clench around San to prove your point, and he bites down on your shoulder to muffle his noises.
“God, okay,” Wooyoung says, succumbing to his desires, “turn around.”
You lift yourself off of San, already whining at the lack of something inside you, but it’s not long before you perch yourself on all fours and San’s sliding into you again. This time, however, you feel a second dick prod at you, and you moan shamelessly into the room.
“You sure about this?” Wooyoung asks.
“Please. I need you,” you respond, sticking your ass out further, and that’s all it takes before Wooyoung slides into you.
Wooyoung is shorter than San, but thicker, and even though it hurts like hell at first, San working you open earlier helps you adjust easily to the feeling of two dicks inside of you. 
“Have you guys ever done this before?” you ask, suddenly curious about whether this is a new experience for them too.
“Never. It’s always been you, baby. Only you,” San says, pulling out before slamming back in again.
The three of you moan, the feeling of San’s dick rocking right next to Wooyoung’s making you feel out of this world. Wooyoung goes next, a rougher stroke than San’s, and as they alternate and work you open, you don’t think you could ever go back to regular sex again.
“You look so pretty like this,” San starts, palming your ass.
“Being fucked like a hole for us to use,” Wooyoung continues, slapping your skin. The pain shocks you, and you squeeze around them tighter, something you didn’t even think was possible, but their vocal reactions to it spur you on even more. They thrust into you harder, alternating and then fucking into you all at once, to the point where you can’t even register their rhythm anymore and all you can focus on is the way they fill you up.
It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens again, and based on their slightly less calculated thrusts, you know that they’re close too. Perceptive as always, San’s hands find your clit again, exactly what you need to let go.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, your thighs shaking.
“Us too,” Wooyoung responds, wildly fucking into you to reach his high. “Let go for us, baby.”
With one more circle of San’s fingers, you spill over, milking their dicks in a neverending orgasm. They fuck you through it, and Wooyoung holds your waist so you don’t collapse on them.
“Close, pretty,” Wooyoung starts, “where do you want us?”
“Inside,” you plead, “right where you belong.”
San comes with a gasp, emptying into you, and his release triggers Wooyoung’s as he follows suit. They fuck into you until they can’t anymore, pulling out of you and watching their cum drip down your thighs.
San cleans you up with a towel, and Wooyoung leaves the room to return with a glass of water, something you’re thankful for because quite honestly, you’re spent after being used so maniacally like that.
You kiss each of them once you’re done, situated against the edge of the bed with the two of them next to you like always. Wooyoung lights a singular joint with the weed left, and you share the roll between the three of you.
“I love you,” you whisper after a few moments of silence, and you feel Wooyoung squeeze your thigh, “I always have. I don’t know what this means for us, but I know I need the two of you.”
“We feel the same way,” San says, kissing your cheek. “We can take it one step at a time. Just know it’s always been you, and it always will be.”
You watch as Wooyoung takes a hit of the joint, the smoke swirling until it disappears into thin air. He takes another puff, but this time, he pulls you close, kissing you as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. Your lungs burn from the heavy smoke, but Wooyoung’s lips are far too consuming to even focus on the pain as you kiss back. 
“We can worry about all that later. In the future, because we have all the time in the world together. For now, though,” he starts, dragging you onto his lap once again in a sick, twisted, form of deja vu, “maybe we can worry about round two.”
And as Wooyoung kisses you again and San finds purchase against the small of your back, you realize that they’re absolutely right. You may not know what the future holds, but for now, you can just count on your weed besties boyfriends to help you take your mind off it.
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bwabys-scenarios · 7 months
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Who from HxH do you think definitely has a breeding kink and would get S/o pregnant?
HxH characters with breeding kinks(NSFW)
!!REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!
!!REQUESTS OPEN!!
warnings: breeding, creampie, implied public sex in Illumi’s part, implied kidnapping in Uvogin’s part/dubcon
A/N: I may do a part 2 to this if people want it!
taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @stygianoir
if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!
Kurapika
DUH! He’s the first one on this list for a reason. He wants to rebuild his clan, to have a family with his beloved. He’s one of the only characters on this list who is very upfront about wanting a family at the beginning of your relationship, and the quickest to ask for marriage.
Kurapika won’t waste a singe drop of his cum, every last bit of it goes towards getting you pregnant and as quick as possible. He’s surprisingly horny, but always soft and sensual, especially after he’s filled you to the brim with his cum. He loves rubbing your cute, chubby tummy, imagining how pretty you’d be with your belly round with his child.
Illumi
Another obvious pick. Illumi needs an heir, and as his partner you’re going to give that to him. He’s also honest about what he wants, and will start breeding you the second you agree.
It doesn’t matter what you were doing, where you were or who was watching, he’s pulling your panties down and bending you over the closest surface to stuff you full of his cum.
Chrollo
Surprisingly, Chrollo is more of a family man than you would think. He won’t mention kids until he’s been with you for a bit, but when he does he has this… faraway look on his face. It’s like the concept of having a family is a fantasy to him, something that wouldn’t usually be on the table for him. But you… he can’t stop imagining filling you with his seed, having children with you.
So the next time you have sex, he stays inside you when he cums, planting kisses on your neck. “I think… you’d be a great mother, (Name).”
Feitan
Now feitan doesn’t actually want kids. He doesn’t hate them, in fact he’s a bit soft towards them(yes, his interaction with Gon WAS him being soft). Feitan just doesn’t think he’d be a good or present father, and isn’t ready for that commitment. But… just the thought of filling your womb with his seed, claiming you in a way that no one else can… that gets him going.
He’s another one that only cums inside you, loving to watch his cum leak out of your pretty, used cunt.
Uvogin
You are literally his little housewife, the taste of a domestic life where he can be someone other than a member of the phantom troupe. Of course he’s ready to knock up his cute wife, it would complete the perfect domestic fantasy he has, of little feet running around the cabin in the woods he placed you in.
Uvogin is already insatiable, but when you ask for him to put a baby in you, he nearly chokes. He’s more than willing to oblige, especially when there’s pleasured tears in your pretty eyes.
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alastorslittledoe · 3 months
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Hazbin Hotel Men with a Crush on You
|| HeadCanon ||
Pairing: Alastor, Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Adam, Vox (x reader)
Tags: Fluff, slight smut, pining, flirting, kissing
Alastor’s method of flirting is similar to him hunting his victims. In fact, the only discernible difference is that he isn’t trying to kill you. Would be an enemies to lovers trope, for sure. He’d constantly do shit to freak you out (like waiting around the corner in his giant ass demon form) just to get your heart racing and then pull you close. Alastor probably wouldn’t even realise he liked you until he pulled you on his lap to apologise and you ended up in his bedroom. He just thought he liked playing with you, just a little bit more than everyone else.
Nicknames include: darling, my dear, little doe, sweetheart
Vox is literally obsessed with you from the minute he meets you. That man watches you everywhere, it would be creepy if you weren’t aware and didn’t give him a show every night in your bed. He insists you come and stay with him just to keep a ‘better eye on you’ and ‘keep you safe’. And while all of that is true, it’s also so he can jack off to you while you prance about the screen for him. Eventually you’d sneak in the room during one of his broadcasts to show him just how much you enjoyed him watching you as an under the table favour. He considers you ‘his’ from that moment on, and his obsessive tendencies don’t waver. In fact, they get worse, if possible.
Nicknames include: doll, dollface, sweetheart
Lucifer is such a sweetheart, he wants to talk to you about EVERYTHING, anything, literally you could talk about stale bread to the man and he would watch you with heart eyes. However, if anyone tried to point his affection out, he’d firstly deny it, and then quickly threaten death on anyone who attempted to tell you. Because that was his moment. If anyone in hell attempted to fuck with you, he’d be there immediately. This man can flirt, too. You might as well be walking around with ‘horny’ tattooed on your forehead. You’d probably be the one to kiss him first, and he’d be mad and insist you stole his moment, before quickly dragging you to bed and showing you exactly why Lilith left Adam.
Nicknames include: my love, sweetheart, pretty baby, honey
Angel Dust would immediately catch on to your feelings. He’d constantly tease you about the fact that you liked him (because he has the insane hots for you too) and HARDCORE flirt with you any chance he got. You’d have to earn your place as one of his best friends before anything happened, though. He’d be happy for one night stands but it takes you a while to convince him that you want more than that and you weren’t going to hurt him (‘: But once you did he’d literally be all over you, in front of anyone and everyone. Which you’re more than happy to oblige to, of course.
Nicknames Include: Sugar, doll, baby, babycakes, slut (with extra affection), sexy
Husk is literally the most oblivious man on the planet. You could get naked in front of him and, while he’d definitely get turned on, he’d just ask you where your clothes are. But, he’d do little acts of service, giving you the last shot, ensuring you ended up in bed after a long night, letting you stroke his ears and even teaching you how to mix drinks when you’d shown an interest. And Husk never let anyone behind the bar. His crushes are definitely more lowkey, he’d be more concerned that Alastor would do something to you. But with a little coaxing, he’d be absolute putty in your hands and admit he’d been feeling this way for months.
Nicknames include: babe, beautiful, hot stuff, love
Sir Pentious…oh boy. He’ll follow you around like a little puppy, trying to do everything for you ‘did you need that jar opening, my love? what? no, i never called you anything!’. Acts of service are his thing. He’s literally the sweetest though and if you ever complained about anything he’d try and fix it immediately, or just get into his death machine and kill it. You’d lost many outfits to him misunderstanding the frustration of not being able to find something to wear. Overall, he’d kiss you absolutely wasted because that would be the only time he’d work up the courage to do it. You’d quickly drag him into a sex room to see what those two dicks are really about.
Nicknames include: you think this man has the confidence to call you nicknames without calling EVERYONE the same nickname for a year? You’re wrong. (the occasional ‘my love’, ‘my heart’, ‘babe’ does slip out though)
Adam will literally kill himself before admitting anything to you. He’ll tease, taunt, fuck, and lie to get you to admit that you love him before he even comes close to admitting he likes you just a little bit. But when you finally do, he slowly makes small changes. Stops flirting with all the angels, strictly has sex with you and would accidentally call you his girlfriend one day to Lute. Of course you’d happen to be standing in earshot and he’d immediately deny anything ever happened. But from then on you’d refer to him as your boyfriend and he doesn’t stop you. Plus, the sex gets really good when he thinks he owns you.
Nicknames include: babe, sugartits, bitch, slut, whore (all in good fun…you think), and when he’s rarely feeling sentimental ‘princess’
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#376
“Hey Caleb.  You were in that bathroom for a while.  Big shit or were you giving it a tug?  Considering your swim trunks is showing no bulge whatsoever, I doubt you were enjoying your right hand.  Or do you use the left?  Me personally, I’m a lefty….
“Your dad and I were just talking by the pool.  I asked him how long he knew you were gay….  Oh I wish you could see the shocked look on your face.  So you haven’t told him.  He was shocked too.  He said you weren’t.  I told him that I’ve been around sperm burpers all my life and you were a classic pole rider.
“You haven’t said much.  Not one word of protest.  You are just trying to figure out what your next step is going to be.  Don’t worry, I love fucking with your dad.  He’s worked for me for ten years now.  He knows my sense of humor and just brush it off.  Besides he’s been drinking.  But I got enough out of him to convince me that you definitely gob the knob.
“You wanna swing on my dick, or not?  Here let me take it out for ya.  I can see by the lump forming in your shorts that you want it.  Am I right?...  Your dad likes to say that you are quiet and keep to yourself.  I can see that.  Just nod then.
“Ok, let’s do this then.  This guest room’s toilet serves as the overflow bathroom.  Someone will interrupt us.  Come with me.  My bedroom will offer us some more privacy.  Your dad already thinks you are off reading a book on your phone.  Nobody is going to miss me for a while….  It’s a large house.  When I bought it, I had an addition put on for my master suite….  When you enter my bedroom, lose the swim trunks.  Boys are to be naked at all times in my bedroom.
“Damn boy, you are rock hard.  So, were you jerking off or taking a dump in the toilet?...  Look, when it comes to sex, I cut to the point.  There’s no need to be coy.  I’m going to be fucking that pussy of yours, and I want to know if you are empty first.  Good.  Did you also give it a tug?...  Of course, you did. 
“Come here.  Point to the guy you were jerking off to….  You are at a construction company pool party where 80% of the men here work for me.  There are more muscles out there from hard work than a fag like you can take in.  Which one?...
“…Of course, you would go for Stan.  So you like big guys?  He’s six four and built like a brick shit house.  Have you talked to him?...  He can be a bit of an gruff asshole.  The guys call him Ox.  He has a dick to match.  Not the brightest guy, but damn he’s a hard worker and a brutal fucker.  Yeah, he’s tag teamed with me a couple of times.  He can fuck for hours.
“Come with me.  This closet door leads downstairs to my hidden playroom.  I had it specifically designed and loaded up for just about every kink my dick was interested in.  You’re what 20?  You probably don’t know about all these things.  I do know this: you are leaking up a storm. 
“Don’t touch yourself.  Let the leak flow.  Why don’t you have a look around?  I need to text a few of my guests to let them know that I had to step away for a bit.
“That’s a St. Andrew’s cross.  If you have an interest in being whipped, I’d be happy to oblige….  Didn’t think so. 
“Those are my four rim seats.  They are for eating ass.  Depending on my mood, they vary based on how secure the boy is underneath.  That last one secures the boy’s legs up so he can get fucked while he’s eating my shithole. 
“No. No.  Leave your dick alone.  I want you to leak….
“There.  All the appropriate texts have been sent.  Now, we’ll have some time to really have fun.  Come over there.  This is a fuck bench.  Simple.  Easy access both holes.  Climb up.  Knees go here; elbows here.
“Oh, you have a pretty cunt.  Nice….  Oh, you are not as tight as I thought you would be; my finger just slid in.  I take it you are not a virgin.  That’s fine.  I get it, a cunt needs to be fed.  You get fucked at college?...  Kinda figured. 
“Ever been tied up?...  No?  There’s always a first time. 
“Ok, so here’s the situation.  I’ve applied a small amount of lube to your cunt lips.  Your mouth, or rather your throat needs to put some slime on me.  I will probably go between your holes.
“I put a sludge plate under your dick to collect your pre-cum and when I eventually allow you, your cum.
“Open wide…. Oh fuck.  Your mouth feels good.  Oh shit, you know how to work your tongue.  You little faggot whore.  Oh man.  Fuck.
“I gotta try that cunt.  If it’s as good as your throat, boy…
“…Right to the root.  Right to the fucking root.  Wait.  What the fuck?...  Do that again….  Boy you are something.  I could just stand here, and you can squeeze my cock like that all day.  It feels like you are jerking me off with your hole.
“Where the fuck did you learn all this?  No twenty-year-old stumbles on how to treat a cock like you.  Who taught you?
“…Your math professor?  Damn, I never would have thought a math professor would have been so twisted. 
“Say faggot, you have a job?...  Living off your dad, hunh?  You probably go out looking for dick when he’s at work.  You fucking faggot whore.  How would you like to come work for me?  It’ll be in my main office.  It’s a tiny office, just me and my manager Dwight.  You’ll actually have office responsibilities in addition to servicing me and Dwight.  Yeah, he’s another guy that I work with that I play around with.  I employ four or five guys that also enjoy using faggots like you, although Dwight also uses bitches too.
“This is a serious offer.  Your dad doesn’t need to know anything other than you are working in my office.  I need to have these holes accessible.  You want to do that?...
“…Fuck yeah!  I’m getting close faggot.  Keep doing what you are doing.  Oh shit.  Oh shit!  Here it cums!  Shit yeah!
“You keep performing like this, and I’ll pay you what I do your dad.
“So, did the math professor teach you other kinks?…  Eating ass and piss drinking!  Hell yeah!  So you have been under a rim seat?...  No, he just sat on your face.  Did he tie you up, or get rough?...  He wanted to?  Boy, when a man wants to use you the way he wants you need to let him.
“Oh fuck, climb down.  And keep my load in you.  Here hop up on this fuck table.  I want to sample that tongue.  Legs go in the stirrups.  I will be securing your legs in them….  Wrists will be secure at your sides in these cuffs.
“You still in contact with the professor?...  Good.  I want to invite him over some weekend so we can use you all weekend long. 
“This table was designed for butt play as well as eating ass.  Your head goes here onto the head rest off the end.  I can lower the head rest and your head back so that opens your throat to a deep straight throat fuck, but I primarily use it by lifting it up like this to support your head when I straddle it like this.  Now your face is wedged in my ass, with me just standing here.  Get that tongue going.
“Oh fuck.  Fag, this will definitely be part of your office responsibilities.  Dwight will love it too.  As will Ox….
“Hey Ox….
“Faggot, I took the liberty of telling Ox to join us when I sent out those texts.
“Holy shit Ox, this is Murphy’s boy.  He’s a total cunt pig.  I just hired him to work for me in the main office.  Wait until you try his holes. 
“Shut up faggot!  This doesn’t concern you….  Get back to sticking your tongue into my shitter.
“He does this pulse thing with his cunt muscles.  You have to try it.  My load is still inside.
“Hey fagboy, you ever have a baseball bat in your cunt?...  No?...  Well it would have been practice for what’s about to be shoved into you.  You know that bulge you jerked off to is going in your twat.
“Scream in my ass.  Keep that tongue going in deep.  Oh fuck! 
“Look at how much he’s leaking.  Give it to him.  Hard.  He’s shaking.  Keep plowing….  Oh shit!  He’s fucking cumming.  Without his hands, that’s fucking amazing.
“Fag, I don’t care that you shot a huge load.  Ox takes a while to get going.  I’ll be right back.  Ron Owens needs to try you out. 
“Fag, while I’m gone, I want you to focus on the man you jerked off to—the man that is tearing up your cunt.  Here, let me undo your hands.  Run them over his chest.  Feel those muscles and that chest hair.
“Ox, don’t you dare cum before we get back.  Keep pile driving into him, and don’t let up, even if he begs.”
“Faggot, this is only the beginning….”
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in ovid's metamorphoses he describes an argument between jupiter and juno where they debate whether men or women experience more sexual pleasure. jupiter says women do; juno says men do. obviously this is a weird fucked up they-ought-to-be-divorced sort of couple dynamic but anyway then they bring in tiresias, a man who apparently was once transformed into a woman and then back into a man seven years later, to be the judge. tiresias says women have more fun during sex and juno takes away his eyesight for disagreeing with her and then jupiter gives him the gift of prophecy to compensate. but that's just one person's opinion. so:
no see results. if you're not trans/haven't gone on hormones/don't have sex come back in a week. i also am not on hormones and will not be answering or seeing the results until the poll is over. (if you used to be on hormones and aren't anymore feel free to answer for how you felt while you were on hormones.)
feel free to put any nuances in the replies or reblogs or tags--but also no one is obligated to share details of their transition unless they want to and feel comfortable doing so.
disclaimer also that i personally do not equate a person's hormones or sex characteristics with their gender identity--i use "man" and "woman" for tiresias because it's the language ovid uses but of course gender is way more nuanced than that. i use "transmasc" and "transfem" as umbrella terms but recognize that they might not apply to everyone.
my hypothesis is that people who choose to go on hormones/have surgery will have more sexual pleasure on hormones/after surgery because they are having an experience that better aligns with their gender. and please don't feel like you need to separate out the physical experience from the emotional--both physical and emotional pleasure are relevant to whether or not an orgasm is good.
uhh and i promise no gods will blind you as a result of this poll.
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shuadotcom · 1 year
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Good Vibrations | YJH (M)
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Summary: You and Jeonghan have been together for a couple of years and share a lot of the same kinks, so when he first mentioned it, it sounded fun….Now it can best be described as the cruelest form of edging he’s ever inflicted on you.
Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader
Genres & AUs: Smut, pwp, established relationship au, non!idol au
Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)
Warnings: Profanity, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, use of a sex toy, edging, oral (m. receiving), face-fucking, hair pulling, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, slight degradation in the form of name-calling (slut, whore), pet names (over-usage of princess and angel - I’m not sorry either!!), dom!Jeonghan, sub!reader
Words: 3.4k
Note: Yoon Jeonghan is ruining my life okay 😭 So much so that I wrote this shit in two days which is a crazy record for me. Thank you so much to @the-boy-meets-evil for always being such a wonderful amazing beta ily jess! 💖
Net tag: @kflixnet
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“These are cute, what do you think, Y/n?” Jeonghan asks, pointing at the handmade set of chopsticks. You don’t seem to answer in time, because you feel the vibrations running through you get more intense - your breath catching in your throat. “Baby, did you hear me?” His tone is so casual along with the smile on his face. You want to smack him.
After taking a gulp of air, you force your eyes to meet where he’s pointing. “Y-yeah. They’re nice.” 
“Right? We’ll take these, please.” Jeonghan turns back to the woman behind the booth as she happily obliges and starts to wrap up the chopsticks.
This isn’t the first time you and your boyfriend have visited the flea market close to your apartment. Usually, you both are able to find fun knick-knacks and accessories made by the talented people in your town.
This is however the first time you’ve been here with a vibrator shoved inside of you that only Jeonghan can control. 
It was his idea, because of course it was. Apparently, he and his stupid friends had been talking about kinky shit they’ve done with their partners and Joshua mentioned buying his girlfriend vibrating panties. Jeonghan thought that idea was brilliant but instead of panties, he had surprised you with a c-shaped vibrator that not only nestled inside of you but also laid perfectly against your sensitive bundle of nerves so you would get both types of stimulation. You and Jeonghan have been together for a couple of years and share a lot of the same kinks, so when he first mentioned it, it sounded fun. 
That is until he ate you out this morning and then slipped the vibrator inside of you, telling you that he expects you’ll keep it in you all day until he says it’s enough. Now it can best be described as the cruelest form of edging he’s ever inflicted on you. 
As soon as you had stepped out of the car when you arrived, the low hum of the vibrator kicked in, nearly knocking you off of your feet.
“Whoa there, Y/n! You okay?” Jeonghan asked, shooting a cheeky smirk your way. 
“Really, Jeonghan!?” You huffed, standing upright again with his help. Each step you took was less shaky than the last, but you had to make a conscious effort not to walk like a newborn baby deer.
“Remember what I said. Be good for me while we’re out and I’ll give you a reward when we get back home.” His tone was so casual as if he was talking about something nonchalant and not your aching cunt.
Your boyfriend had taken your hand then and waltzed through the entrance of the flea market like any other normal Saturday.
It’s nearly an hour later and Jeonghan is still taking his time, stopping at nearly every stall to take in the items and homemade treats, even striking up conversations with the vendors and asking you for your opinions. Each time, he seems to crank the vibrations up a little more on the dangerous device in you.
At some point, he pulls you to a picnic table outside of a tteokbokki vendor and orders a small plate to share with you. 
“Say ‘ah’, angel.” Jeonghan holds a skewer of spicy rice cake up to your mouth, waiting for you to open.
“Jeonghan can we ple-ahh!” Your objection falls short as more intensity hits you, Jeonghan blatantly increasing the speed in front of you. Your nails dig into the plastic of the picnic table, fighting off the impending orgasm.
With a comically large pout, you wordlessly open your mouth, Jeonghan simply beaming back at you and feeding you. He chatters on about how good the weather is and how excited he is to wear the new shirt he just picked up from a couple that makes fun graphic t-shirts.
You love your boyfriend so much - you really do - but right now you want to shove a whole skewer down his throat for the torture you’re experiencing. 
After what feels like hours (when in reality it was only less than ten minutes), you and Jeonghan finish eating and he practically drags you to a boba stall. He already knows what you want, which you’re thankful for because you’re afraid that if you let out any sound, it’ll be nothing but a pathetic moan of his name.
Jeonghan leaves you standing under a nearby tree as the sun gets a little warmer on your skin while he orders for the both of you and casts a look over his shoulder at one point. When your eyes meet you get weak in the knees all over again. His smolder is unmistakable from underneath his bangs, his pretty pink lips quirking up as his tongue darts out to lick his lips. He bites his bottom lip as he practically eye fucks you in broad daylight, any semblance of sanity you have left finally leaving you.
Seemingly satisfied with making you suffer more, he turns away as he thanks the vendor and comes to meet you with your drinks.
“Here you go, princess,” his tone is chipper, a jarring contrast from the way he had just looked at you.
Your hands shake as you take the boba from him, not even attempting to take a drink. You’re so far gone that even his pet names are pushing you close to the edge.
“Jeonghan, honey please.”
“Hmm?” He tilts his head to the side as he sips from his straw without a care in the world.
“Can we please go now? I can’t handle this anymore.” Your words are shaky as you plead with him. Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, studying your face and observing how even standing still you’re trembling in front of him and notices the wet shine in your eyes.
He leans forward, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Okay, princess. Let’s get you home so I can fill up your needy little cunt.” His dirty words have a small whimper leaving your mouth and he has to reach out quickly to steady you as you sway in place.
Lacing his fingers through yours, Jeonghan leads you through the crowd, still going casually he takes a last look at the stalls and items in the market. He’s nice enough to help you into the car when you arrive and even leans over you to buckle your seatbelt, placing a kiss on your forehead before shutting your door. You watch him in the side mirror put his tote bag in the trunk then walk around to get into the driver’s seat.
“You know, you were so good today, princess.” Is the first thing he says as he’s pulling onto the busy street. His hand moves to cover your denim-clad thigh, the small touch making you jolt in your seat. Jeonghan only laughs at you, casting a side-eye glance your way.
“It was so hard,” you sniff, hyper-aware of how warm and how long his fingers are as they draw circles on you.
“I know, baby. But once we’re home it’ll all pay off. I promise you won’t be able to walk for the rest of the day.” He smiles sweetly at you, a choked exhale leaving your mouth at the image of Jeonghan folding you in half in your bed. You know he means it and that only makes you clench your thighs together for the nth time today. “I can see you like that idea.” He squeezes your thigh, his skin feeling red hot to you through the fabric. “Look at you. Pressing your thighs together like a horny little slut.”
“Jeonghan…” He can’t talk to you like this - not in the state you’re in.
“I wonder…is my angel so desperate that she needs to cum now?”
“Mmhmm, please Hannie, I need it! Can I?” You blurt out, not caring how pathetic you sound. It’s how you feel after all of his agonizing teasing. 
“Do it then.” He says suddenly, turning to watch your reaction as he stops at a red light, a mischievous grin forming. In the next moment, he reaches into the pocket of his jeans and the toy inside you is cranked up without warning. Your body jerks in your seat, a scream ripping from your throat as your body involuntarily does as he commands. Tears prick your eyes when you finally get to cum, your panties and jeans adequately ruined as you can feel how much you cum in them.
All you can do is pant as you come down and Jeonghan is at least kind enough to lower the vibrations. Through droopy eyelids, you watch as Jeonghan quickly pulls into the parking lot of a park, stopping the car under a low-hanging tree in the corner of the lot.
When you turn to look at him again, his hand grabs your chin, bringing his mouth to yours. Your lips move together effortlessly, Jeonghan’s tongue prodding at your lips, demanding access. As soon as your lips part, his tongue moves in to claim yours, sucking it loudly into his mouth. You whine in response, your hands coming up to tangle in his dark locks, tugging on the strands as he continues wrapping his tongue around yours, nearly devouring you whole.
Jeonghan pulls away first and moves to kiss your neck as you catch your breath.
“How was that? Does my angel need more?” He mumbles against your skin.
“Yes, please!” You nod feverishly, gasping as he bites down, leaving a mark at the base of your neck.
“But do you deserve more?”
“I do! I’ve been good all day, Hannie! You said!”
“Hmmm,” he hums. “I suppose, but you have to earn it.”
“Anything!” You rush out, head lolling back as he nips at another sensitive spot on your neck.
“Do a good job sucking my dick and I’ll think about it.”
With a last bite at you, Jeonghan pulls away and you watch, wide-eyed as he undoes his belt and unzips his jeans until he has enough room to pull out his length, his hard cock springing out and hitting his t-shirt-covered stomach.
You get to work immediately, hands darting out to pump him a few times. Jeonghan lets out a hiss when your tongue laps at the tip, collecting the beads of salty precum that seep from the slit. One of your hands grips the base of his dick, pumping it a few times as you suckle on his cockhead.
“Fuck, angel, no teasing.” He turns the vibrator back up after his warning and you moan lewdly around him. Breathing out of your nose, you sink onto his length slowly, taking in as much of him as you can. Your hand and mouth work together, your tongue swirling around him as you suck him down. 
Slurping sounds fill the car mixed with the loud, breathy moans Jeonghan huffs out above you. Your head bobs frantically, sucking and squeezing him in all the ways that you know he likes. His long fingers tangle in your hair, gripping at the roots to push you down further. You can’t help but choke as he hits the back of your throat suddenly, but you don’t pull away - you know how much he loves to leave you choking on his dick.
“Shit, look at you, taking me so far down your slutty little throat. You’re so good for me, you know that?” Jeonghan’s praises always spur you on, the desire to make him feel good taking priority because you know he’ll always return the gesture tenfold. 
You attempt to nod, swallowing around him, driving Jeonghan even crazier. He thrusts up shallowly, beginning to languidly fuck your mouth. 
His hold on your hair stays tight, the feeling of his nails digging into your scalp burning along with the ache in your jaw, but you stay where you are, gagging around his cock. You reach down to cup his balls, rolling them around in your palm which draws a deep whine from his throat.
Jeonghan scrambles in his pocket for the remote to the vibrator, turning it higher. You manage a wet, garbled squeal around his length, your eyes crossing as you feel your orgasm approaching faster than the speed of light.
“Gonna cum again, princess? Gonna get that pussy slick and sticky for me?”
“Mmph!” You breathe loudly out of your nose. Your eyes screw shut as Jeonghan thrusts into your mouth rougher, now holding your head completely still as he uses your throat as a fleshlight. The tension in your belly finally snaps, shockwaves rushing through you as you cum with an incoherent attempt to yell Jeonghan’s name. 
Your loud gasp rings out through the car as he yanks you off of him by your hair. You greedily gulp air into your lungs, body shaking as you continue to ride your orgasm out.
“Is my princess doing alright?” Jeonghan checks, his fingers lightly massaging your scalp.
“Y-yes,” you stutter out. 
“Perfect. Come here.” Jeonghan places a kiss on your lips and helps you wiggle out of your jeans and underwear, leaving them on the floor of the passenger seat. He manages to climb into the backseat of the car, helping you over the seats after him and maneuvering your tired body into his lap. Jeonghan reaches between your wet thighs, easing the vibrator out of you, shushing you as you groan at the loss. He tosses it into the passenger seat and helps you lift just enough for him to begin slipping his cock into you.
“Jeonghan!” You cry out as he stretches your walls. Even after cumming numerous times today and being filled with something all day, he still manages to feel heavy and impossibly thick. Your walls greedily suck him in, inch by inch, the sensation alone already making you lose yourself even more in everything that is Jeonghan.
“I know, princess. You’re so fucking tight, but fuck just like that.” His long fingers grip you, easing you into his lap until his dick is buried in you completely.
The two of you share a moan, taking a few seconds to adjust. 
“Hannie…can I move please?” You whimper first, your oversensitivity ebbing away as overwhelming pleasure quickly replaces it. 
“You wanna ride my dick, huh angel?” 
“Yes, please Hannie,” you’re whining for him now, hips trembling at the dire need to get fucked.
“My slutty baby is so desperate for me,” Jeonghan purrs, trailing his hands around your hips to grab a handful of your ass. “Ride me, princess. Make me cum in your messy little cunt.”
Jeonghan’s dirty words set your skin on fire, and you do what he says. You plant your hands on his shoulders and your knees on either side of him for better leverage and begin bouncing in his lap with as much energy as you can muster. He keeps one hand anchored to your hips, helping you with each thrust and his other hand reaches up under your shirt and bra to roughly knead at your breast.
“Hannie…” His name is long and drawn out, egging on his eager hands to begin pinching your sensitive nipples. 
“That’s right, princess. Who’s cock makes you feel so fucking full and good?” His words are steady, even as he starts to buck upwards, meeting your hips every time you drop down. 
“Yours!”
“Fuck yeah. And this pussy is all mine,” he punctuates each of his words with a thrust, quickly jolting you up and down almost faster than you can keep up with. 
The car rocks as he fucks into you, the air hot and stuffy and full of desperation from both of you. Sweat beads at your hairline as you ride Jeonghan and you manage to wrench your eyes open to look at him. 
His dark hair sticks to his face, his forehead glistening with sweat much like yours, but fuck he looks as beautiful as always. His plump bottom lip is between his teeth as his brown eyes, half-lidded and full of desire stare back at you. A playful smirk graces his features and your heart immediately skips a beat.
Even when he’s teasing you mercilessly and talking to you in the filthiest ways, he’s still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
“Gonna hurry and cum for me, princess?”
“Yes, Hannie, yes, fuck!”
“Better hurry up. I don’t know how long we have until someone notices our car sitting here. They’ll all hear you crying for me like a whore.” This isn’t the first time Jeonghan’s fucked you stupid in his car, but it’s the first time he’s done it during the day when anyone could walk by and easily see your silhouette on top of him through the tinted windows. The idea scares you while simultaneously exciting you.
Jeonghan adjusts his hips a little, the slight angle change having his cockhead brush your g-spot just right, making your toes curl and anything that isn’t Jeonghan cumming inside of you vanishes from your mind. 
“Fuck, Jeonghan, yes, yes, yes!” You babble out. You need to cum again so fucking bad - your fourth orgasm of the day so close you can practically taste it. You continue to meet each of his powerful thrusts, your hips burning, but you ignore it, getting closer, closer, closer.
Jeonghan’s right hand snakes between the two of you. His nimble fingers expertly find your swollen clit and rub at it, rolling it between his perfect fingers.
“Shit, baby, I’m so close - so fucking close. Be a good girl and cum with me.” Jeonghan doesn’t give you a chance to answer and instead buries his left hand in your hair and yanks you forward to crash your lips together. The kiss is all teeth, tongue, and spit. It’s messy and needy, capturing your shared lust. 
“Hannie!” You gasp between kisses. “Can I?!” You barely get the words out as he mutters a ‘yes’ against your lips, allowing you to let go. The sound of your blood rushing to your head fills your ears as you hold your breath and your orgasm hits you like a bus.
“Yes, yes squeeze me just like that, angel! Fuck!” Jeonghan throws his head back as he cums, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as he paints your walls, your name on his tongue as he does.
You sag against him, your forehead resting on his shoulder. You feel Jeonghan’s fingers rubbing circles on your back while you both steady your breathing. 
“I love you, Hannie,” you say, your hands wrapping around his torso to pull him closer into a proper hug.
“I love you too, Y/n.” He reciprocates the embrace, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.
“We should probably get going,” you whisper as another minute ticks by. You didn’t want to separate but it would only be a matter of time before someone nosey happened by.
“Yeah, we should.” Neither of you moves at first after he agrees, but your hips are starting to ache so you begrudgingly sit upright. Jeonghan’s hands hold your waist as he helps you slowly lift yourself until his softening cock slips out.
Flopping onto the seat next to him, you lazily readjust your bra and shirt as he tucks himself back into his jeans and fixes his hair. He helps you move back into the front seat and you wrestle with getting your jeans back on as he climbs into the driver's seat and takes a sip of his now-warm boba.
Once back on the road you reach out to grab at his hand resting on the center console. He gives your hand a squeeze in return, threading his fingers with yours.
“Can we get food on the way home?” You ask, suddenly noticing how hungry you are.
Jeonghan snickers, giving you a look before focusing on the road again.
“All your energy is gone from cumming so much, huh?”
“Stop!” You pretend to be scandalized, smacking the back of his hand. “But yes, actually!”
Jeonghan brings your hand to his lips, placing a light kiss on the back of it.
“Yeah okay, we’ll grab something. You’ll need to regain your strength anyway.” You blink at him, your boyfriend chuckling at your silence. “Did you forget what I said already? I told you that you wouldn’t be able to walk for the rest of the day, didn’t I? I’m not done fucking you, princess.” Heat spreads across your neck and up to your face. Fuck, he did say that earlier, didn’t he? Yoon Jeonghan was truly going to be the end of you. “Now what would you like to eat, my love?”
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theshiftanlibrary · 1 year
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┈◦•◦❥•◦ | In their ways...
SYNOPSIS: Uh oh! It seems you have fallen ill! Not to worry dear prefect, they will look after you, albeit in their own ways.
CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts; Leona Kingscholar; Azul Ashengrotto; Jamil Viper; Vil Schoenheit; Idia Shroud; Malleus Draconia
TAGS: Fluff; Established Relationships; Hurt/Comfort; Sickfic
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He couldn't help his smile. You were just too cute. Few would beg to differ, what with your snotty nose and whistling breaths, but they wouldn't dare defy the Queen. Lest they lose their heads. He probably shouldn't allow you to take him as your personal pillow, after all he had so much to do. But... A rest won't hurt him. And even if it weren't for you, Trey would have forced his rest.
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Stupid Ruggie... That soup he gave you should have worked an hour ago. Yet, here he is, still suffering through your little whimpers. The twitching stopped though and so did the tossing and turning. So, small wins for now. He probably should have taken you to the infirmary already, but it's his nap time and he's not going to lose his (favorite) pillow. You were the perfect size for cuddling too, what with your small back fitting perfectly into his chest as his arms cradled you so. Tch... Stupid herbivore, why'd ya have to go and get sick?
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The little coughs from the couch pulled at his heartstrings. A strange thing to feel while also simultaneously hooking a poor unfortunate soul into one of his contracts. But his heart still sang whenever he sees you resting on the couch in the VIP room. You were quite sick and loopy when you first plopped down into the couch, so in his benevolence, he draped his coat over your form. Nothing will come bother you here, he'll ensure it.
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The chicken soup is taking too long, he muttered to himself. Your skin burnt as hot as the desert sands, which was concerning to say the least. Even Kalim's fevers weren't this bad. What made it worse had been the fact that you came into the Scarabian kitchens with the fluffiest blanket Kalim had gifted you and your frame still shivered through all those layers. He silently thanked the Sevens for giving him the time to look after you too, since Kalim had been at the Light Music Club. He'll dedicate his life to you should you let him.
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He couldn't bring himself to scold you. Your bleary eyes and red skin told him all he needed to know. A nasty flu afflicted you and you came to him for help. He's quite flattered. Normally, he'd start applying skin care products while listening to your latest escapades but today he simply tucked you into his bed. After your soft scratchy voice asked him so nicely, how could he refuse? Besides, washers were there for a reason. He left you to rest as he dashed around for flu remedies. At least he would have if it weren't for your whines, begging him to stay for just a little longer.
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His hands kept readjusting themselves on your form, making you groan at him as you tightened your grip on his neck. He was sure you could hear his heart beating out of his chest, after all you did nuzzle yourself into his neck and hair. Speaking of his hair, he was also pretty sure you saw the pink glow from under your closed eyelids. His hair never shined so brightly before. But Ortho left him to get some medicine for you, which is cool. KK, GG. But he's gonna get KO'ed if he hears another contented squeak from you.
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Your weight had been quite a relief upon his chest. He started to worry when he heard your scratchy voice politely asking him to cuddle you. He obliged, of course. Your form curled itself into a ball as he held onto you to trace every dip and divet he could find with his fingers. Your skin burned hot, indicating your fever. A voice very similar to Lilia's scolded him for not taking you to the infirmary, but he couldn't bring himself to move. After all, humans needed to rest when they're sick, yes?
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A/N: Ani not posting Genshin content?! More likely than you think. Anyway, I wrote this when I was sick. So most of what the reader has, I had. Fever, runny nose, the whole works. And can you spot who are my favorites? 👀 And I redid my formatting, if you couldn't tell. what am i saying it's been so long since i posted a fic
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