#and at this point i am Flustered . but he keeps them there then presses himself right up behind me and is like

[angelltheninth]

Adam x reader but they’re still alive and she’s the third wife made for him and he eats pussy for the first time 🫢🫢🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️

You ready my fucking mind! I was thinking about this for a few days.

Pairing: Adam x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, first time cunnilingus, praise, hair-pulling (for Adam), cum eating, praise, clit stimulation, Adam's ego, Adam hates Lucifer

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I am actually taken back by how much I love Adam. He's an asshole for sure but he's a charismatic asshole.

Adam moved his body against yours, quick rapid-fire cumshots making your insides tingle with warmth. It coiled at the pit of your stomach and stayed there, uncomfortable and heavy and annoying as hell. Maybe more annoying.

"Thanks for the fuck, Babe." His satisfied smile was cute if a bit too smug, like he just accomplished something big by coming inside your pussy. You whimpered as he pulled out, "Woo-hoo-hoa. There's so much, keep that shit in there, are you even trying to make kids or nah?"

Naturally procreation was high on the list of priorities for the two of you. As his third wife you wanted to give him something his first two wives couldn't, a real family. "As much as you are. But you know that's not the only purpose of sex right?"

"Of course not. My dick feels so damn good when we have sex!" Adam pointed down at the mentioned dick, half-hard and covered with both your cum.

"Yeah... and what about me?" You took his hands and pushed them towards your pussy.

"Oh. Oh yeah. I guess I can finger you. Gotta push that fucking cum back in." He chuckled and bent his middle and ring finger, his long digits closing in to your pussy before you grabbed his wrists, "What the fuck, you bitch?! I'm trying to be nice! You don't want my fingers or something?!"

How the hell was the one offended here? "I didn't say that Adam. I... want your mouth. Okay, happy? Is that what you wanted me to say?" Instead of grinning in victory like he usually did when he got you flustered he blinked in confusion. "Don't you think it's only fair after how many times I sucked you off?"

"W-Well... but... you love to suck my dick!" God he was so childish sometimes. How was he the first man and the man you fell in love with? God truly does work in mysterious ways. "I shouldn't have to eat pussy to make you feel good."

Okay. Time to pull out the last weapon you had. "Bet Lucifer knows how to eat pussy."

Adam was human. He was. But the look he gave you in that moment would make any demon shiver. "What was that?! Think I can't do better then that asshole?!" He pushed himself down and pinned your legs apart, "Fucking watch me, Babe." He was all talk right now. The moment you smiled at him he looked... awkward. He was the first man, he should be good at this, he should be good at everything.

Yet his licks were slow, experimental, insecure, way too light between your folds. "Adam. You can lick harder." He let out a grunt and quirked his eyebrow at you, he hated being told what to do. "I need you to lick harder, it would make my pussy feel so good if your tongue could- ah!" There it was. A little praise, a little persuasion and he was doing as you asked.

"Can't forget about this little thing right here." His teeth pressed against your clit, your pussy clenching and pushing more of his cum out. "I see how it is, you want more huh? Enjoying yourself? Tell me."

"Yes. You're doing good, Adam." Your hands brushed through his messy brown hair, not so much directing him as giving him a reassuring massage, "Your tongue is divine."

"You bet this cunt it is. Praise me more, Babe, scream. Let everyone hear how good I'm giving it to you." Adam's tongue descended lower to your cum-filled hole, pushing back and forth, "Damn I taste good. I see why you like swallowing it." Of course he somehow made this about himself again. It didn't matter. He was still doing as you asked, making you feel so fucking good.

"That's right, you're making me feel good with your tongue. Only you can make me feel like this. Only you can make me come from eating me out." That was all he needed in order to do just that. To know he was your one and only. Your hips bucked into his face, your back arched, toes curling while he licked and kissed and finally went back to sucking your clit. "Adam! S-Sto- oh my god- wai-!"

He wasn't stopping. Adam always did as he wanted. You came on his tongue, in his mouth, and now that he's accomplished that he wanted to do it again. You watched his tongue move across your clit, spelling his name on it, "There. Now this clit, this cunt, is all mine."

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #adam imagine #adam headcanons #adam fanfiction #adam smut #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel #x female reader

[rogueddie]

A gay bar is the last place Steve ever thought he'd be, yet here he sits.

He keeps looking over to Robin- not too much, just enough to keep an eye on her. Make sure she's still having fun. Although, he's sure he doesn't need to be worrying.

The girl who'd caught Robins eye is small, feminine. She looks like a sweetheart and she keeps getting Robin flustered. They're cute together, clearly into eachother, and Steve couldn't be happier.

Even sat alone, feeling completely out of place and a little uncomfortable, seeing Robin able to flirt with someone so openly is… he just feels relieved.

He should have thought to bring her here sooner.

"Hey there." The man smiles when Steve flinches. It's a soft smile, kind. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, uh, I don't- I mean, uh-"

"Woah, don't panic. It's just a dance, right? You look uncomfortable is all and seeing you sat alone with your big fucking puppy dog eyes is just sad." He gently nudges Steves chin up when he tries to look down, feeling awkward. His finger lingers a little, brushing along his jaw. "You don't wanna have a fun night out? I won't be offended if you say no."

And, ok, Steve's a little tipsy. He's sure he'd never agree if he were sober- it wouldn't have felt fair. The guy is clearly attracted to him, not even trying to hide the way he's eyeing him.

But Steve's buzz is more annoying than pleasant and dancing does sound fun. So he agrees, accepts the hand offered and lets the guy pull him into the crowd.

The guy keeps his distance. Anytime the crowd jolts Steve toward him, he steps back the same amount, keeping a solid foot between them. But he's grinning, yelling jokes over the music, unabashedly dancing like an idiot.

It's great, it's fun. Steve can't stop grinning, stomach starting to ache with how much he's been laughing.

Eventually, a slower song comes on, stronger sexual undertones. The guy (Eddie, he'd leant in to tell Steve when asked, explaining that he knew Steve because they used to be in the same year as in Hawkins) shrugs, pulling an exaggerated face that screams 'what-can-you-do'. He's turning away.

But Steve grabs his wrist, Eddie looking back with raised eyebrows.

"This alright then, pretty boy?" He asks after stepping in close. His hands rest low on his hips.

Steve nods, flushing. He automatically puts his hands on his shoulders, letting Eddie lead him through a weirdly intimate sort of slow dance. And Steve is suprised to find himself… into it? He's not sure.

He feels less tipsy, so he can't blame the easy blushes or the way his stomach flips on the alcohol. There's no excuse for how he's started looking at Eddie either, paying a little too much attention to the way he moves, how his hands feel when they slowly start to wonder.

He gently brushes Eddies hair out the way without thinking, tucking it behind his ear so he can see the tattoo on his neck. Eddie tilts his head slightly, baring his neck a little more. When he glances up, Eddie is watching him, curiously.

"Hate to sound pressumptious," he drawls, taking a small step forward so their chests are pressed together, "but it feels like you're making moves on me, big boy."

"What if I am? What happens then?"

"Maybe I'd ask if you're sober enough to drive or if we need to call a cab." He leans back a little when Steve moves to kiss him. He hums, smirking. "Or maybe I'd ask for your number. I'm a classy lady, Harrington; what if I don't put out on the first date?"

"I've never said no to a challange."

Eddie barks out a laugh, loud enough to startle some of the people swaying beside them. "As if."

"What? You're like... pretty."

"Pretty," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "People know I'm a fag, Steve. Even being seen with me like we're 'just friends' would fucking ruin you."

"Your point?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna put money on that?"

Eddie eyes him for a second, his derision melting into curiosity. "You want to make a bet on whether you'll date me or not?"

"Why not? One of us wins money in a bet, we both score a date, and-"

"I thought you were straight."

"Yeah, me too. But I don't think straight guys think about you like I am, right now."

Eddie steps back, considering. It's a long, tense, moment before he finally sticks his hand out. Steve quickly shakes his hand, grinning.

"You've got yourself a deal."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Tell Me You Like It

20/12: Sharing a Drink & Toys - modern!Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: use of toys, p in v sex, overstim, choking, pussy slapping

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Hands clasped with elbows rested on the table, she fiddles with the clasp of her watch on her left hand, her body tight with nerves. 

The restaurant has a warm aura, with amber lighting decorating each table and windows that stretch across the width of the area. Being winter, it’s dark outside already, but with the amount of bodies and the remnants of steam that come into the space when the kitchen door opens, it’s pleasantly warm where she sits. 

Mumbling, quiet chatter surrounds her as she sits alone at her table, waiting for Aemond to return from the bathroom before the starters arrive. 

She raises her head as Aemond slides back into his seat, an involuntary smile making its way to her face as her eyes rake over him, wearing a black button down with a few at the top undone and the way the sleeves cling to his biceps never fails to make her smile. As usual, his hair is up and out of his face, looking shockingly casual compared to the way he’s dressed for their date.

She blushes when he gives her that signature smirk, one hand stuffed into his pocket.

“Aemond”, she warns teasingly before she jolts so hard in her seat she nearly loses grip on her champagne glass. She presses her lips together to keep quiet, briefly looking around to see if anyone is watching as the vibrating egg inside her begins on its lowest setting. 

She opens her eyes to see Aemond’s smug expression that doesn’t waver with the pointed one she gives him.

“What’s wrong, baby? You look…flustered”, he grins, switching it back off, concealing the remote inside the pocket his hand is currently shoved into.

Fucking bastard.

He’d suggested this as well, having bought the item to spice things up in public. 

But now she realises it was just another way for him, 1. To entertain himself and 2. To watch her fall apart in a different, forbidden way.

But before she can reprimand him, the waiter drops by with their starters. She puts on a polite smile, side-eyeing Aemond across the table as he continues to smirk. Hell, even the waiter, as he refills their champagne, seems to feel the tension between them both. And therefore leaves shortly afterwards. 

He doesn't activate the vibrator throughout the next course, mercifully. The silence filled with idle chatter between the two of them.

“Got a new client this week”, he mentions idly as she wraps some pasta around her fork.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she’s got unrealistic expectations of course, and wants us to go on a business trip-.”

She raises her head, swallowing whatever was in her mouth, “She?” 

Aemond all but smirks, as if he’d got the reaction he’d wanted.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she tuts, “If you’re trying to make me jealous, it won’t work.”

“Hm,” he chuckles lowly, stabbing at his food, “why would I be trying to make you jealous?”

“Because you’re a di-ah! Aemond!” she whisper-shouts, not realising he’s reached into his pocket again, the vibrating sensation between her legs has a warmth descending there from her gut, and she can feel herself moistening after hours and hours of teasing the device on and off.

She pressed her mouth closed when she realised she perhaps moaned a little too loudly, some of the other patrons sitting around them even turned their heads.

Once the vibrating stopped, she threw yet another glare at Aemond, “Because, you’re a dick.”

“A dick you love.”

She cocks her head, “Hm.”

It was pure divine intervention when the waiter finally came to clear away their plates. 

“Dessert?” Aemond asked with a honey-like tone, one eyebrow raised mischievously as he ramped up the vibrator yet again, enjoying the way you moved your hips to alleviate the sensation.

Seven fucking Hells, I am going to kill this man.

Every moment was sweet torture.

The taxi home. The short walk up to his house. And he hadn’t stopped fucking smirking the entire way.

The front door closed, and within a millisecond, a loud thud has her back pressed against the door, Aemond’s lips and tongue prying hers open with his large hands running up and down her body, gripping tightly where he wants to devour her the most.

“I wonder…how wet you are…after teasing you all night, hm?”

She gasps against his lips as his hand dips beneath her dress, near-ripping the lacy underwear she’d worn that evening aside to swipe two digits over her sopping folds, revelling in the tiny, soft whimper she lets out at finally being touched.

“Fuck - baby. Just begging for it, aren’t you?”

“Aemond, please-” she begs, hand clenching around the fabric gathered at his chest, grinding her hips down against his fingers, “-need you.”

“Need what? Say it.”

The way he says that makes her want to jump on him then and there.

“Need you to fuck me-” she huffs out almost annoyed, trying to hook her leg around his hip.

He’s tempted to reach into his pocket, tease her more, and see how pathetic he can get her. But she’s so fucking wet, he doesn’t think he can even wait for that, proven by how hard he’s been ever since they both sat down for dinner. She whines pleasantly as his lips ghost over her neck, the tender, sensitive skin in open-mouthed kisses.

“Well, when you say it like that.” he muses hotly.

She squeals in surprise when he lifts her, using his knee to push the bedroom door open and dropping her onto his bed, her body bouncing briefly before she looks up to find him crawling on top of her, with that look in his eye.

The look when she knew she was in trouble.

He pulls off her underwear with ease, tossing them aside before diving between her thighs again, “Relax, baby…”

She shudders as he gently pulls the vibrating egg free, embarrassment creeping up her neck when she feels just how wet she really is after his incessant teasing.

“Fucking hell - such a slut-” he punctuates the word with a harsh, wet slap to her core, smirking at the way she visibly jolts, a moan slipping past her lips.

His other hand naturally hugs her throat, tugging her hedonistic gaze up to him while he massages her bud slowly with the aid of her slick, “look at you - such a greedy girl-”

She hears the clinking of metal as Aemond pulls his belt through the loops of his smart trousers, the whipping sound for some reason making excitement run hot through her veins. Aemond doesn't take any clothes off, other than pushing whatever is in the way past his hips to pull his hard and weeping length from his boxers, stroking himself slowly.

Nor is he particularly bothered about undressing her either. It appears she's not the only one that's been pent up.

She smiles a bit at that, his hand still snug around her neck.

“Don't know what you're smiling for-”

His expression goes all cold. And she's about to reply when her lips part in a breathy moan as Aemond sheathes himself inside her, slowly splitting her on his length until he reaches the fleshy end of her, tipping his head back at the feeling of her warmth squeezing him so tightly.

It feels utterly erotic to fuck like this with all your clothes still on, but that's the furthest thing from either of their minds right now as Aemond starts, at first, a slow and gently pace. He looks down between them, jaw slack, enamoured with the way his cock is glazed with her essence every time he pulls out of her to push back in, her fleshy insides moulding around him.

“fuck - baby, you're making such a mess on me-” 

With the intensity of his thrusts, the pressure his hand applies around her neck is somewhat tighter in a way that has her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

So much so she almost doesn't notice as he reaches into the bedside table.

“You're much too quiet.”

Her eyes practically fly open as Aemond uses his body to widen her legs slightly,  smirking as he presses his body into her, and yet another vibration is heard. But louder and more rapid.

That's nothing compared to the sensation when he presses the wand to her clit, the two sensations making it all borderline unbearable.

“Ah - fuck, Aemond-”

She realises now that she's a mess, clutching the sheets, her face and neck all hot and a soft sheen of sweat over her body. Aemond's hips smack against her bare thighs, increasing in vigour, his cock effortlessly finding that sensitive spot inside her with her legs slightly elevated.

That combined with the way he holds the wand to her, makes her stomach clench, an orgasm creeping up on her frighteningly fast.

“Aemond - oh gods-”

He chuckles darkly, “fuck, love it when you're all desperate for me. You gonna cum for me, hm?”

All she can do is nod quickly, not trusting her words with Aemond fucking her so relentlessly into the mattress, forming the shape of him inside her.

He doesn't stop as she wets his cock with her release, her thighs shaking around him and fingers cramping as she fists the sheets. And with every blow to her sweet spot as her peak rolls through her, it's agonising in the sweetest way possible.

“That's it…”

A tight, hot feeling grips her when she cracks her tired eyes open, the force of her orgasm after hours of torture just being all too much, and sees that Aemond has lost no momentum.

He looks so good like this, head tipped back, lips parted, fucking her into oblivion.

And yet, the overwhelming buzz to her oversensitive clit and the moist smack of his cock being buried into her, brings her back to earth, with wanton, exhausted moans.

“Aemond-”

She can tell he's out of breath as he raises his gaze to her, smiling with his cheeks pink.

“Give me another one.”

“But-”

“I said, give me another one.”

With a harsh press of the vibrator to her clit, she sobs in pleasure, feeling weightless, knowing that she will give him as many as he wants, until he's done with her.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fan fic #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond stannies #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond smut #modern aemond x you #modern aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond x reader #modern aemond

[cordyce]

BY YOUR HANDS ALONE

neteyam sully x gn!reader

notes: this is silly & overtly fluffy & all over the place if i am completely honest rn. neteyam is a little flustered & probably ooc. sorry :’)

"there you are."

"here i am," you mirror back instantly, hardly sparing a glance up at the far too familiar voice as your fingers continue to work at chopping up some vegetables. it's a busy day—a momentous day. there is no time to waste.

"let me help," neteyam offers, already making moves to steal your knife from you as he steps to your side.

but you weave it away from his grasp, nudge him back with your shoulder and point the knife at him as you address him. "aht, don't think so," you differ, then continue your slicing. "besides, don't you have your own tasks to get to, mr. mighty warrior?"

days like this require a lot of preparation; everyone chipping in and doing their part so that it all gets done and runs smoothly. if even one person slacks off, it could cause a rift in sanctified plans. and that simply wouldn’t do. no, it would not.

"i have completed all of them, actually," he retorts, but he shrivels when you narrow your eyes up at him. "okay, almost all of them."

you scoff, let your pupils meet your sockets with a roll as you pry the truth out of him. of course, one of the most important days of the year and it is now that neteyam chooses to have an irresponsible whim. you aren’t sure what you’re gonna do with him.

"your mother will have your tail if she finds one thing out of place for tonight, you know this." it isn't necessarily a warning, but there is some tip-off in your tone. "you must get everything done."

neteyam hums, leans his hip against the raised wood that you are using as a makeshift counter. he says nothing, simply watches you. takes into account how you dice up the vegetables in front of you diligently before sliding them to the side with your knife and moving onto the next ones. his stare is driving you crazy—no one works well under pressure, after all.

it causes you to have a slight blunder; a misstep. you cut a pattern a tad too fast and send a slice of root tumbling towards the ground. neteyam's instincts are superb, quick, and he catches it before it hits the dirt. mumbling a thank you under your breath as he places it back on the tray, you find the heir before you still not making a move to speak.

you aren't sure why it unnerves you so.

"what do you have left to complete?" it's not the question you want to ask, but 'what the hell do you keep staring at?' doesn't sound quite as nice. so you settle on it.

you take a pause, a breath, to turn to him. throughout the years you have seen the eldest sully child wear many expressions. ones tainted by smiles, irritation, pride, devotion—but this one has you tipping your head in the most peculiar way.

because timidness is not something you think you've ever seen don the strong features of neteyam sully.

he carries himself with such an air of confidence; shoulders pressed back and chin held high—not arrogant, but undaunted. he does not shift gaze unless he is avoiding scoldings and he does not suck in his cheek unless he is fighting frustration. so, you wonder, what could possibly have his face contorted in such a reticent manner. if you did not know any better, you’d almost call his demeanor a rendition of shy. but that seems rather uncharacteristic of him, doesn’t it?

"ah—are you sure you don't need help with that?" he's deflecting, brushing off your inquiry like he hasn't heard it. and you can't decide whether you find that amusing or concerning.

he's making way for your knife again and you twist your arm to hold it out of his reach behind you. you eye him carefully, flit your gaze all around him to pick up on anything that you can that would explain his behavior.

"tell me." it's not an order, you aren't demanding, but neteyam nods his head like he's respondent of such.

"my father told me i needed a, uhm," he stutters, licks his lips, like he's tripping over his own tongue. and it's undeniable the way you see his ears twitch. "for the celebration tonight. i need a.."

"a what, neteyam?" you press, cock your brow up at him. you don't think you've ever seen him like this. never witnessed him so.. "you need a what?"

"a.. date."

so fidgety.

"a date?" you repeat with widening eyes.

"no, no not a—not a date really but i need someone for the—“

"the staining ceremony.” you finish for him, continue his sentence because with all his blubbering you aren’t sure he’ll ever spit it out.

he nods curtly.

the celebration tonight is for all the young warriors who have proved themselves throughout the calendar year as being strong willed and great protectors of the clan. neteyam, of course, is one of them. has been since he earned the right to be titled as such. so perhaps it should have clicked in your head that he’d be searching for a partner for the staining ceremony portion of the night.

but a part of you—if you’re being completely honest with yourself—just figured he had one already. events like this take weeks of planning; most warriors find their artisan a fortnight in advance. because it cannot just be anyone.

the partner one chooses for the staining ceremony must be someone with whom they feel a connection. some of the older warriors choose their mates. some of the youngest choose their mother or father. some settle for siblings. others, in brazen acts of outstretched hands, choose a mate unbonded; one who they harbor feelings for but have yet to seal such in the eyes of Eywa.

you cannot lie and say you had not pondered over who neteyam’s choice would be. a part of you thought he would pick kiri—they have always been so close and she has been his partner for such ceremony before. but, you are not deaf to the murmurs of your village, you are not ignorant of what has been passed from mouth to ear of all that will listen. there have been other… prospects who have been suggested to neteyam for this special commemoration.

your name has not been among them.

“well,” you continue, tear your eyes away from him and get back to the task at hand. there is no need to dwell on such things and fall behind. you have just one more batch of greens after this to prepare then you will be done and can walk away from all this. “if you’re here to ask my opinion on who your choice should be, i’m not sure i will prove to be much help.”

a shut down; a cut off. you’d like this conversation to be over as soon as possible because it’s making your fingers itch. you’re offering him a gateway to close the topic off.

but he doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“no,” he chuckles, now, and you can tell he’s shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. it’s breathy; like he’s punched it out of his chest and finally broken past the barrier of whatever flusteredness had him trapped before. “that’s not why i came to find you.”

“if it’s to convince kiri to sacrifice herself to do it for you again this year, i’m not game for that either.” you don’t understand why his laughter leaves you agitated, why this whole situation has caused an odd twisting in your gut.

“that won’t be necessary,” he disputes, “i do not need kiri to be my partner this year.”

your fingers fumble, your slicing stutters. “oh?” and you want to kick yourself for how your voice hitches. you clear your throat, bite the corner of your lip that neteyam can’t see. “convince some other poor soul to do it for you? is it zuy’nik? i know she presented you a kill from her hunt recently.”

neteyam hums. “no. i have not chosen zuy’nik.”

you grip your knife harder, focus carefully on the blade as you chop down on a bundle of leaves. your throat is dry, your heart is thundering. you feel silly.

“sënuul, then?” you question, do your best to sound as disinterested as possible even though your chest is burning to know who could be lucky enough to have been picked by the heir himself. “i hear many young warriors wish for her. they say she has delicate hands.”

your hands—in contrast—have grown tense; your chops near erratic. being this worked up over a man who is not your mate seems so futile, so nonsensical. if your mother were here to see you now she’d call you childish.

but is it so childish to want things your heart yearns for?

“while that may be true,” neteyam agrees with the sentiment, and that makes your stomach lurch, “it is not sënuul either.”

“then who is it? who could you possibly—“

a hand covering yours has you cutting yourself off. neteyam’s palm melds over your knuckles; stops your unsafe cutting and stills your wrist’s movements. before you can even bring yourself to look at him, calloused fingers are hooking around your chin. swiveling your head around, you have no choice but to meet his gaze. and it is not averting, not twinkling with tepidness like it was before. you think, for a moment, that’s because he’s passed the feeling onto you.

“i do not wish for any other partner in this clan.” and his voice does not waver, does not stumble, now. you swallow as you listen. “i came here to ask if you would do me the honors, for tonight.”

your tongue feels like cotton; the fuzz of it floating to your brain to make everything go static. this is.. not what you had expected.

you had expected to follow neytiri’s orders for preparing the food for the meals that would be shared. you had expected to dress yourself in the ceremonial clothing and jewelry you keep for these special occasions. you had expected to stand around the edges of the circle during the opening dance, serve food to the elders, and sit with a content tight smile as you watched kiri declare neteyam’s war paint for the third year in a row before the true celebration began.

you had not expected yourself to be standing face to face with neteyam, ears twitching embarrassingly sporadic, as he asks you to join him in one of the most intimate and important events of a warrior’s life.

and you suppose you can use that element of surprise as the reason why you find yourself a tad bit speechless while you nod dumbly. a wide grin cracks across his face, curves up his cheeks as he lets out another breathy laugh.

“thank you,” he murmurs, and he still hasn’t let go of your chin. “i was worried i would not get the chance to ask you in time. i was pushing it, but i tried to get all my other duties done as fast as i could.”

now that, the mention of time, finally knocks you out of your little lovesick trance.

“hey, wait,” you huff, shove at his chest lightly with your free hand. “you should have asked me sooner! i should have already had your stain pattern planned out, and—and now i have to go get all of your paints and i didn’t factor in the time for that. you’re terrible!”

“ah, i’m not terrible. i am sure you can just wing it,” he waves off, simpers like this is funny.

“wing it?” you gape at him. because he genuinely cannot be serious. “this will be your war paint pattern for the rest of the year. if it’s bad then you will be stuck with it. you want me just to wing that?!”

“why not? i have faith in you, i’ve put myself into your hands.” and it’s meant to playful, you know this, but the way he’s looking at you proves his words hold their full weight regardless. “don’t be mad at me.”

“oh, i’m mad,” you retort, brush him away as you get back to slicing because now you really do not have the time for distractions. “i cannot believe you have waited until last minute.”

“would you like me to ask someone else?” he queries, and you whip your head over to level him with a glare. “i mean, i am sure sënuul would be honored to be the partner of the future olo’eyktan.”

“you know, i liked you better when you were sputtering and nervous,” you spit back, retract your attention once again. “terrible. truly terrible.”

“ah, do not be mad at me,” he levels again, “what can i do to have you forgive me?”

“nothing. you will never be forgiven.” with no hesitation, but also no malice. your bite holds no venom, and your cheeks are still warm. such hypocrisy you spew.

“nothing?” he questions, and you don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. there he is again; the neteyam who holds his chin up high and taunts his brother into mindless games to prove his worth. you admire this neteyam; love this neteyam.

this neteyam grabs your face and tugs you forward before you can think of another mindless rebuttal to spout.

the kiss is light but fervent, and if you were a poetic person you might just say that his lips taste like future promises you already intend to keep. the fight drains from your body and you find no urge to bring it back. this neteyam seems to know how to quell you, how to dispel your frustration and wipe away your grievances like fogged up glass. so easy, so effortlessly.

he pulls away languidly, breath puffing against your lips. "forgive me?" he asks again, and you find yourself nodding before he even finishes the question.

he turns your head to peck your cheek then drops his hands to finally successfully steal the knife still held in yours. you tip your head, blinking through the daze to inquire what he's doing.

"i can finish that, you know."

"i know," he answers, then flashes you a crooked grin that has your stomach twisting in a way far different than before. "but don't you think you should start planning how you want to trail your hands over me?"

and, oh. part of you wants to hit him for that. but part of you wants to tug him in by the neckpiece he dons and get him to shut up by an alternative method.

as you reach forward to run your hand ever so heedlessly up his chest, a faux illusion of planning your mapping, you think you might just settle on the latter.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

#this is for my sweet matcha first and foremost <3 i hope u like it ! #also i TOTALLY made up this entire celebration thing LMAO #i jus thought it was a cool idea and super cute sooo #also. i rlly hope u don’t think neteyam is too ooc bc he is a bit. flustered here #BUT SJDHDN AHHH ENJOY #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam drabble #neteyam fluff #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #atwow fluff #avatar fluff #neteyam sully fluff

[lychniis]

⚘— DUE RESPITE.

i. SYNOPSIS : he demands his affection. it's long overdue, in his opinion. ( jing yuan x reader ) // evenfall event - prompt xi ( ❛ honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips.❜ ) + daisy.

ii. WARNING(S) : mild mentions of blood and one fucked up appendix, this is lowkey selfship coded, reader is a doctor and is lowkey tired too, jing yuan is just a wee bit touchy, a tiiiny hint of angst. very small but i swear but it's all fluff and sweet talking.

# masterlist

“Come here.” 

He smiles in indulgence, fingers pattering playfully over hardwood. You consider his request, sugar melting over your tongue with the passing moment. You reach out for more candy as the twisting in your gut persists. A wingbeat draws your attention again. Jing Yuan is still staring straight at you.

“Why?” you ask carefully.

“Let me kiss you.” Blunt, to the point, so unlike the lilting riddles he’d spin and confuse you with. You shake your head. 

“I smell of blood.” you’d overseen the surgery of one insistent patient, a short lifer whose stomach cramps stemmed from an inflamed appendix. Even after washing yourself down you can’t quite rid the tang iron rimming your fingertips. 

Jing Yuan laughs. To him, everything may as well be a joke. Or a threat. Or a simple amusement. You consider it the happy experience of going senile with age ( you had expressed it to him. He’d laughed even harder till the birds in his hair clear out and his shoulders shook and trembled like his being was wracked with earthquakes ).

“Trust me, I’ve smelled far worse.” he assures you, leaning forth to take your hand, his lips pressing up against the palm. “Come.” A tug. You’re a slave to the way his eyes shine. You hate how he has you so easily stringed up and weak for his words ( your heart is racing, it’s a traitorous little thing ripping away at your chest and stealing your breath and warming your cheeks ).

His large hands settle you easily on his lap, drumming staccato over your hips. His lips find your temple next. “Darling mine.” he whispers. “Darling mine.”

“Yes.”

Jing Yuan smiles and shuts his eyes, curling his grip around the hook of your legs. The action in firm, steady, half patient, half wanting. “Look at me.”

You turn your head away.

He presses his face to your hair. “No?” he intones with feigned disappointment. “I cannot see your face?”

“No.” you play along, reaching for more of the rock candy. Jing Yuan stops you, and it’s warm, warm, warm all over. There’s is something tempered in his gaze. It’s a lazy adoration. 

“Is there any way I can appease my beloved then?” he muses. “Should I beg on my knees? Wax poetry?”

You groan. “No, no poetry, Jing Yuan.”

“No poetry either? My, you are a tough case, aren’t you?” he’s sweeping you away from the floor, draped on his lap and his chest. Your grasp lays upon his heart. You feel it beat. Your head turns and you face him, lips pursing as you try to stifle back the flustered curl tugging at the corners. “There.” he whispers. A finger taps at your jaw. 

He lets you close the gap and steal away gaping kisses.

“I’m weak for you, aren’t i?” you mumble mournfully between them. Jing Yuan softens to it. “An utter fool. An idiot.”

“Maybe. But I’d be a hypocrite for belittling you for it, no?” he’s chasing after your lips again in a rare moment of greed. He’s not a selfish man. Jing Yuan would let himself be rend by a thousand swords or scorched by starfire if it means another lives a life in peace. It’s a simple truth nestled in him, so blatant in its presence yet artfully tucked away beneath paraphernalia and other quirks picked over the centuries. 

( Jing Yuan who’d let himself bleed, bleed, bleed. )

Your nose nuzzles at the column of his neck. You will not be thinking of tragedy today. “Just keep holding me.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners. He is flesh and blood in your grasp. he is whole. He is him.

The respite is welcomed.

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

working through this event like the damn aventurine boss jk jk. anyway i am ill for this man and i want him to hold me thank you.

anyway, this evenfall post was requested by @floraldresvi!! i hope you like it!!!

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill this form up!

taglist — @dustofthedailylife @meimeimeirin @silentmoths @crystalflygeo @ofoceansandtombsanew

AINE | 2024. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

#&&. my writing !! #EVENFALL ; valentines 2024 #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail #silly silly silly lion mans #i love him so god i need to be check lords #he's so kijhgfcvbghj #him and zhongli

[cevansbrat0007]

Promises, Promises

Summary: Ari exacts a promise from you as a reward for his patience.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Needy Ari Levinson, Implied Smut, Light Oral Sex (fem rec), Allusions to Public Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for my sweet friend, @curls-and-eyeliner. Just a little Ari Levinson goodness. Not sure if it has a place, but for now it's going to fall in line with my Trio Series.

___

“C’mon. C’mon.” You murmur as you try and fail yet again to maneuver the thin leather strap of your heel through the small silver buckle. “Almost – you little piece of shit!” While the shoes were wearing tonight paired phenomenally with your dress, you were starting to feel like the effort to fasten them just wasn’t worth it anymore.  

Sometimes you really fucking hated heels.

Huffing out a breath, you allow your body to go limp before collapsing back against the chair in defeat. You’d been at it for the better part of ten minutes. And frankly, at this point, you’d much rather go barefoot than have to fuck with this shoe one more time. 

Ari would just have to understand. Maybe if you asked nicely your man would get onboard with you rocking a pair of sneakers to tonight’s medal ceremony – even if they did manage to clash with your overall look.

“Ready to go, Bird?” Ari calls out from the bathroom. “I don’t want us to be late.”

“Almost!” Comes your frustrated reply, just in time for him to rejoin you in the bedroom. He gives you a thorough onceover, his soulful blue eyes darkening as he scans you from head to toe. Grinning, he runs his fingers through his already tousled chestnut brown locks.

Ari Levinson was virtually hopeless when it came to styling his own hair. The moment he got even a little remotely agitated or flustered he became unable to keep his hands out of it. Lucky for him, he somehow always managed to look positively sinful no matter what. 

And tonight was no exception. 

“Fuck, baby…” He rasps.

“I swear I’m almost ready.” You hurry to reassure him, thinking that he might be annoyed with you. “It’s this damn shoe, though. I can’t seem to fasten the stupid strap and it’s pissing me off.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” He mumbles, seemingly to himself.

“Well you could either give me another minute or you could help…” You trail off when your beast of a man drops to his knees in front of you before plucking the offending heel from your grasp. It drops to the floor with a soft thud. “...me with this clasp. What–what are you doing?” 

“How am I supposed to take you out now, looking like this?” His already deep voice lowers several more octaves. The comforting weight of his large palms go to rest on the tops of your thighs.

A sinking feeling enters the pit of your stomach. Perhaps you should’ve given your boyfriend a peek at your outfit beforehand instead of waiting until tonight. That way if he didn’t like it you would’ve had time to figure out a backup dress.

“What’s wrong with the way I look, Ari?” 

“Absolutely nothing.” His intoxicating gaze bores into you, making you feel dizzy even as goosebumps raise across your flesh. “You look stunning, sweetheart. Like a vision and a wet dream rolled into one.”

“Oh.” Is all you can seem to manage, his whispered compliment taking you by surprise. 

Although you’re not quite sure why. You could walk around wearing a pair of his boxers and a raincoat and this man would still be ready to bend you over the nearest flat surface and fuck you stupid. 

“And honestly, as excited as I am to have you on my arm this evening, I don’t know if I still want to go.” One hand slowly trails down your leg, the slightly roughened pads of his fingers smoothing their way over your calf to gently grip your ankle. 

“B–but…tonight’s supposed to be a celebration. And you’re the guest of honor.” You rasp, your mouth suddenly dry as Ari presses a tender kiss to the inside of your bare foot. 

“So?” He gifts you with another kiss, this one accompanied by the faint brush of his tongue along the inside of your ankle. “You and this dress have me thinking about all the ways we can celebrate right here. From the comfort of our home.” You feel your pulse begin to quicken. 

“We can’t.” You gently admonish as you try to pull away. But his hold remains steadfast. “Besides, if you stay down there much longer –” you gesture towards his position on his knees – “you’re going to wrinkle your pants, assuming you haven’t already ruined the crease.” Your big beast of a man quirks an amused brow in response.

“I’m serious, Ari Levinson.” You blow out a shaky breath, wishing you sounded more confident. “Now, you help me with this shoe so we can get out of here. At the rate we’re going, we’ll be lucky if we’re only fashionably late.”

“Is that right?” Ari’s eyes light up at your words, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “That an order, baby?” 

“Uh huh.” Of its own accord, your hand reaches out to caress his freshly trimmed beard. Ari sighs quietly and leans into your touch. “You’d better believe it, Beast.” He growls low in his throat, the animalistic sound making your nipples pebble through the material of your bra.    

“Well then I guess I better do as my lady says.” A hint of mischief creeps into his tone, coupled with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to upset my gorgeous girl now would I? But before I do that, I’m also thinking I’m gonna need you to make me a promise. Can you do that for me?” 

Ari loosens his hold on your ankle only to drape your leg over one of his broad shoulders. And then his hands move to the hem of your dress, slowly rucking it up your thighs to stop just below your hips – revealing the lacy scrap of black fabric hidden beneath.

“Y-yes.” 

“In return for being such a good boy, I’m gonna need you to promise you’ll let me fuck you tonight. And when I do, I want you wearing nothing but these heels.” He leans forward and buries his face in the sweet juncture located between your parted thighs.

“Okay.” You could definitely do that.

“I get to choose the time and the place. But don’t worry, baby. You have my promise to keep you wet and ready for me until I decide on the perfect moment.” He then inhales your scent, nuzzling his nose against the increasingly damp lace. A muffled groan escapes when he does it again. His grip tightens as his fingers dig into your skin.

Almost as if he’s already regretting his decision to agree to leave the house.

“Ari.” His name emerges as whimper, soft and pleading. 

“Promise me, Bird. Promise you’ll reward me for being so good. For showing restraint.” Each spoken word feels like a heated lash against your panty-covered clit. “Please.” Ari sucks the bud into his warm mouth, making you cry out as your thighs clench around his head.

“Yes!” You hiss as he continues to tease. 

“Say my name again.” He rasps, flicking the swollen nub with his tongue. “Say it just like that when you make your promise.”

“Ooh, Ari!” Your hips buck and writhe beneath his sensual assault. “Yes, okay? I promise!”

A primal sound bursts forth from his chest – a something between a snarl and a purr – as he forces himself to pull away. “Okay.” He grunts, his breathing slightly labored.

Ari doesn’t say another word as he goes about picking up your forgotten heel. He slips it on your foot and deftly buckles the strap as if he does it all the time. Your body is on fire as you prepare to sit up and fix your dress, only for your man to stop you with a hand on your belly.      

“I plan to wear you out tonight, baby.” Two long, thick fingers hook themselves into the waistband of your panties. “Swear to God, you’re gonna feel me for days.” 

The sight of your man’s feral grin is your only warning before the flimsy piece of lingerie is all but ripped from your skin, eliciting a shocked gasp from you. Ari rises and tucks the ruined lace into his pocket before helping you stand on shaky legs. 

Ever a beast, he proceeds to haul you against his solid chest. And then your eyes flutter closed as his mouth descends over yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him as your hands fall to his biceps, holding on to him while he takes his time with you. His talented tongue dues with your own in short, playful thrusts. One of his hands slips to your ass, giving you a rough squeeze. 

When it’s over, you’re both breathless. And the impressive bulge in Ari’s slacks makes it obvious that he’s ready for more. A clock chimes in the distance, breaking your reverie. It’s a not-so-subtle reminder that you two needed to leave soon. As in now. 

“Guess we’ll just have to pick this up later.” You murmur, even though you have yet to move.

“Damned right we will.” Ari growls, his eyes glittering with unbridled lust. “So you’d better keep your promise.”

“And if I don’t?” You tease, finally finding the resolve to pull away. He lets you go before walking over to the bed to snag your clutch. Meanwhile, you busy yourself with fixing your dress. 

“You will.” Your man hands it over before linking his fingers through yours and leading you down the hall towards the stairs.

"I mean, but what if I change my mind?" You tamp down a giggle. Now probably wasn't the best time to tease your man, but you just couldn't seem to help yourself.

"You won't." Ari assures you once more before halting his movements. He turns to face you again before tenderly grasping your chin in his hand. "You'd never do that to me, sweet girl. But if you did, I suppose I'd just have to remind you of what happens to little brats who break their promises to their men now wouldn't I?" His lidded eyes practically dare you to disagree.

"Y-yes." You whisper, swallowing thickly as he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip. "I'll be good."

"Well, thank goodness for that. I'm so glad we have an understanding, baby." Ari purrs, allowing his hand to fall away as you resume your procession towards the door. "Because I'd be pretty pissed if I had to fuck you in the middle of the banquet hall in full view of everyone." He opens the door and ushers you into the garage, smacking your ass for good measure.

"But that also doesn't mean I won't."

END

#cevansbrat007 fics #chris evans imagines #ari levinson imagines #chris evans #ari levinson #chris evans x you #ari levinson x you #chris evans x black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!reader #chris evans x black reader #ari levinson x black reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x brat!reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x brat!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #ari levinson x yn #chris evans x yn #ari levinson x y/n #chris evans x y/n #ari levinson daddy!kink #edited

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

I absolutely love n adore your writing especially your IDV Norton/ Fool’s Gold ones (I am a huge ! major ! simp for him). I need MORE OF FOOL’S GOLD— the size difference is getting to me!!

I hope you’re taking requests! :> Fool’s Gold is just sometimes always in thought at how different the size is between him n reader? Like. Just how do they handle him so well ?? Or even, just like the idea of cat and mouse BECAUSE OF THE SIZE DIFF.. this can be a nsfw oneshot or drabble but it’s up to you entirely!!

rated Explicit | Warning: it kinda feral

Norton Campbell has always been the one who towers above you, Andrew, William, and himself being the tallest in the survivors' group. This translated to his hunter counterpart who is the tallest of the hunters next to Disciple, Evil Reptilian, and himself.

When he is around you, he is often standing beside or behind you, a grin on his face as you watch you crane your name to look at his face— The same thing you do with his other self, but is different.

There is arrogance, cockiness, and sadistness in his wide toothy grin. Especially, when he has you all alone and his excitement is clear by the way he has you on a medical bed at the second level of the Sacred Heart Hospital.

He was particularly vicious in this match. He is of course a vicious hunter, but this felt a bit personal as he had downed Freddy, Kreacher, and Servais. It was like he was… God, you should kick him for being territorial— None of them are a threat, but you know Norton never particularly liked them.

“So small.” Keeping his deformed hand pinning your arms above your head, “To think this has taken all of my cock.” His other hand cupping your crotch, “Bet you can take us both.”

The idea of both Nortons being inside of you as you flustered, embarrassed thinking how many times that was close to happening. You fear if that happens, you might not be able to walk properly for a while. Yet, the idea excites you and he chuckles at how you bite down on your lower lip. His hand moved up and down. Your hips raised begging silently for more.

“Say you can, no, say you will take us both, sparky.”

You try to speak knowing he is going to use it as an opportunity to have you moaning louder midway— Still, you foolishly try and once again you are moaning.

“Sensitive today, huh?” Raising an eyebrow at how you easily moaned a little too loudly. His hand moves under you grabbing the waistband of your pants, a push up and a pull as exposes your ass and legs to the slightly warm air.

“That little bastard.” He yanked your pants with your underlings off your legs taking a shoe with it before tossing it on the ground beside his feet. Now he can see why you were sensitive, the bite marks on your thighs and your hole smelling heavily of arousal— That weak brat made sure to cum inside of you too, giving Fool’s Gold the sloppy seconds of your hole.

“Fine,” Unzipping his pants, “This will only make it easy for me!” You squirm as he picks up your leg and brings it up to your shoulder, “Let's take that pretty voice of yours from him in return.”

You would have thought he was gonna slam right into you, no he made sure to drag out the sensation of him filling you. Norton is well endowed, to say the least and he is always something you might not ever get used to— Fool’s Gold is bigger, considering he can reconstruct himself… Of course, he made himself big enough to have a bump appear on your lower stomach from him filling you so much. And he loves to not only point it out but touch it to actively remind you: he is bigger.

So competitive, not that it does not have its advantages but, God, you are always sore.

“Now say what I told you to say before.” Now fully inside of you, “Say how you can take us both, sparky.”

You say it softly with your face turned away, then you say it again louder when he starts a rough pace making you immediately realize you are in fact that sensitive.

“That's it,” Laughing as repositions you to have both your legs pressed against your chest so he can reach even deeper, “Go on, tell me how bad you need us.” He wants to feed into his ego, loves hearing you admit how you love Norton Campbell so much— How you love every fucked up piece of him like he is a diamond rather than Fool’s Gold. “Fuck, every time so tight.” You moan out his name, the desperation for release with each ‘Norton, Norton, Norton’ you say.

“Whore,” Groaning, “My whore.” His hands, both of them holding your legs. Your hands gripping the dirty surgeon table as the Hunter fucks you relentlessly. A mix of spite and his own desperation for you.

#idv #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv prospector #reader insert #norton campbell #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell x you #identity v x you #identity v x reader #idv norton #identity v #fool's gold x reader #fool's gold #idv fool's gold #fool's gold x you #anon ask

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (part 2)

Tw: Afab and fem reader, Cyprus doesnt take no for an answer and keeps you in his apartment

masterlist, part 1, part 3

You woke up with the biggest hangover of your life. Your mouth was dry and your head was pounding against your skull, you could feel the alcohol from last night sloshing around your stomach.

You squeezed an eye shut while the other struggled to focus on your surroundings. This is not your bedroom.

Your blood runs cold upon realizing that you're not in your work clothes. But an oversized shirt that's exposing one side of your shoulder and reaching to your knees. Cyprus must have changed you last night, god knows what else he did to you while you're that vulnerable.

There is a ceiling fan above you that clearly hasn't been cleaned for a while. Old, ripped and yellowed posters of famous fighters were plastered on his off white walls, they're not even straightened. A pair of red boxing gloves were hung on the side of his wardrobe, whereas his suitcase is on a lone table by the corner.

You could hear something sizzling outside, it must be Cyprus cooking.

You got out of his bed and exited his room, gulping and bracing what's to come.

"Morning." He gruffed. You scanned the room and saw that it's a modest living room with a small kitchenette away from the main door. It's a bit bare, just a couch, a TV on a wooden stand, a dining table that fits four and a printer awkwardly pressed against a wall. It was resting on a stool.

There is a tattered punching bag in the corner, hanging from above. It has definitely seen better days.

You noted that he has two pedestal fans and another ceiling one, but no air conditioning.

You turned your attention to him, he was plating the food on some paper plates. Cyprus picked them up and turned around, tilting his head towards the table. You tried to ignore the fact that he's half-naked, only wearing a pair of shorts. You knew that the majority would salivate over his oddly unscarred, sculpted body and veiny arms. There was a healthy, bushy happy trail on his abdomen, looks like he had let them grow rampant.

You went ahead and sat down on one of the chairs. He placed a dish down in front of you before taking a seat himself.

It's toast, sausages and eggs, cooked the way you usually prefer.

"You told me last night, this is how you liked your eggs." He mumbled, digging into his own breakfast which consisted of the same items, just in more quantities fitting to his stature. "I hope I can trust the Drunk You."

You went straight to the point and asked what happened.

"We didn't fuck, if that's what you're asking." He nonchalantly told you as he stabbed his omelet with a plastic fork. "You puked all over yourself, so I had to change you before bringing you to bed."

You were astonished at the difference in his language at home, compared to the one at work.

You asked what the time is. You're going to be late for work and you cannot afford to lose this job.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he chewed. "Relax. I called in sick for you."

He did what now?

"I took an emergency leave off work today too. We're free until Monday." He continued, acting like this is a totally mundane topic to talk about.

You rubbed your face, dreading the day where you're going to have to face your coworkers.

"What's up with you?" He asked, staring at your flustered face. "And eat up, your plate is getting cold."

You asked him how he called in to tell your manager that you won't be coming in.

He shrugged. "Pick up the phone. Dial the number. Call. Hang up."

You said that wasn't what you meant, you asked what he told your boss.

"I said you were too sick to come in. What more do you want from me?"

You asked if you provided context behind his words. He couldn't just possibly do that on your behalf can he?

"I told Jane it was none of her business. All she needed to know was that you're not coming in and so am I."

Jane, the devil you and everyone else on your floor call a manager. He wouldn't have let that response slide if you were to do the same.

And she is a gossip super spreader. You're sure the entire building is already making their own speculations about the relationship between you and him.

You stood up and paced around, trying to expel the nervous energy you built up. Cyprus looked at you quizzingly as he munched on his toast.

You ask how he is so calm about all of this, does he not care about being the center of gossip when he gets back?

"Fuck them. I don't care what they think." He turned his focus back to his plate, stabbing more food and shovelling it into his mouth.

But you do. You didn't tell him that, though.

"Damn, sit down. You're always so jumpy. It's just me and none of Jane's crap you have to face at work." He complained. You still fidget with your hands and walk around in short circles.

"You know, I always wondered if you're as jittery when you're not in the office. I guess this confirms it, you are. How could you live like that, always feeling on edge twenty-four-seven?" He pushed his glasses back up, his grey eyes trailing your every move.

You told him that you have to go home. You have something to do, mumbling about chores and other weak excuses.

"That can wait. We should talk more." He brought his hand up to your arm, firmly grabbing them and trying to lead you back to your chair.

You said no, you have to go.

"You and I know it isn't urgent. Come on, sit down. I'll reheat your breakfast up for you." You managed to slip out of his loosened grip.

You asked where your phone, clothes and belonging are.

"They're in my apartment. Safe and intact. You'll get them, don't worry. Just, sit." His patience is thinning but you're too frazzled to notice.

You said you have to check your emails to see if Jane-

"Park it!" Cyprus barked as he rose up from his seat, pointing at the empty chair opposite of him, causing you to flinch at his raised voice. You hurriedly followed his command and sat down.

He sighed. "You really need to stop thinking about work."

You kept your lips sealed as you trembled. Fearing Cyprus. As promised, he took your plate to be reheated in the microwave. You wonder if it's safe to be microwaving a paper plate.

While that's happening, he pulled out two empty glasses from his cabinets and a jug of juice from his fridge. He sets them on the table and poured you and himself some.

"Christ, you're so shaky. Loosen up!" He snarked.

You said you have no idea how to approach this situation, it's completely new and you're being caught off guard. How are you going to relax when you don't know what to expect?

"Well, first off. I'm not going to hurt the girl I'm trying to get with." He walked to the microwave as it beeps. "That's you, by the way. If it wasn't already painfully obvious." He sarcastically remarked, pulling out your steaming plate.

"Here you go, princess." His tone was softened and endearing as he placed your plate in front of you once again, it's mildly soggy but still in one piece, holding your food. You reluctantly picked up your disposable plastic fork and ate, since your stomach was grumbling.

He returned to his seat and continued his breakfast too.

"Secondly," Cyprus gulped his food down. "I want you to tell me more about yourself, and I'll talk about my life."

You didn't respond to him, still warily watching him as you ate.

"I'll go first." He set his fork on his plate. "My name is Cyprus. Cyprus Andrea Rodriguez."

That explains the "R" in your Valentine's Day note. You found it amusing that his Initials spell out 'C.A.R'.

"I work in finance. You know that." You nodded.

"I smoke. I like my coffee black. I drive. I cook." He started rapid-firing facts about himself while counting his fingers. You already knew all these.

You asked him about the boxing gloves in his room. He smirked and leaned back against his chair, bringing his arms behind his head.

"Not so fast, your turn to tell me about yourself, pretty girl." You coughed in your hand to try and hide the fluttering of your chest upon hearing that nickname.

You also told him things that he already knew. You worked on the same floor as him, you do not smoke, you like your hot drinks a certain way and you like your eggs like how you're eating it right now.

He pursed his lips. "Pfft. Boring. I want to know what you do after work."

You said you would go home and scroll endlessly on social media. Or do more work.

"You're not fooling me, doll. I know a generic to-go reply when I hear one. I'm not your coworker here, you can tell me."

You thought about it. Yes, you would go to dinners and gatherings with your friends and other colleagues, but those aren't usually for fun. They're for keeping up appearances. Aside from that, you would just rot with your phone.

You told him that you would go out with friends.

"Who?" He brought his hands to his side and leaned towards you, now very interested in knowing your social circle.

You said he wouldn't know. It's no one from work. You quickly switched the conversation about his boxing gloves again. It seems like he wanted to say something else, but he ended up disclosing about his hobby.

"I box in my free time. It's a good way to release all that pent-up stress from dealing with Jane's shit on the daily." You eyed his deformed ears. Then you asked him if he does it for money too.

"Yes. It's one of my side hustles." He scraped the remainder of his eggs from his dish.

You asked what he was doing at the bar last night.

"Ah, ah. Your turn to answer my question, pretty girl. What were you doing at the bar last night?" He narrowed his eyes at you.

You said that you felt like drinking and going to the bar outside office hours. Was that so wrong?

He stared at you for a bit before replying, "You don't seem like the type."

You asked what he meant by that.

"You were never great at handling your own stress, doll. I know you don't like the smell of bars and the taste of booze. You were there as a 'last-resort' type of act, and I bet it's because of the guilt for standing me up."

While that is true, you don't necessarily appreciate Cyprus calling out as it is. You would very much prefer to remain in denial.

You said he has a good point. Then you proceed to ask him why was he there, in that one specific bar out of thousands in the city.

"I was there for a boxing match."

A match? Where?

"Somewhere." He was vague in his answer, you can only assume that it's nearby. "Next, what do you do on the weekends?"

You do not like these questions. They make you reflect upon your life.

You said spending time with friends, rot on the internet, or work. The last part made Cyprus grimace in disgust.

"The last thing on your mind during the weekends should be Jane's bitching. Work? Really?" You shrugged, saying that you're trying to save up enough for... you actually don't really know what you're saving for at this point. You're just doing what everyone is doing.

"You know you can't bring all that cash with you when you're dead, right?" He stood up, taking the empty disposables with him. Cyprus chucked it into the trashcan in his kitchenette.

You disregarded his last sentence and asked him about the paper plates and disposable utensils.

"They're cheap, and I don't have to do the dishes." what an interesting way of living.

You asked about his plans over the next three days. A flash of fear crossed your mind when you remembered you had to face your coworkers on Monday. They are going to ask all kinds of invasive questions and you're going to have to speak like a politician.

"What do you want to do?" He asked, leaning against his counter and staring down at you.

You said you wanted to pack up and go home.

He lets out a loud buzzing sound from his vocal cords. "Wrong answer, I'm not done with you yet."

You asked if you could at least have your clothes back.

"Later. They're in the wash."

You asked where is the wash.

"Downstairs."

You asked if you could go downstairs.

"Nope."

Why?

"It's lame down there, I'd have to say hi to my neighbors. And, I want to talk to you alone."

You asked if you can have your phone.

"Nope."

Why?

"It's charging."

Where?

"Not telling you." He pulled out a pack of smokes from his pocket and switched the stove on to light the cancer stick up.

You said you need your phone.

"To do what? More work? Dream on, I'm not helping you waste your life." He placed the cigarette into his mouth. Cyprus walked up to the window and blew puffs out of it. Occasionally he tapped his cigarette to knock the ashes off it.

You said you just need to check it. Someone might try to contact you in the event of an emergency!

"Trust me, it's nothing important. They're all from Jane." He took another drag of his cig.

You asked when will he be "done with you".

"When I feel like it."

You fell into silence, trying to think of something else to ask.

"I like you." He said, supporting himself over the windowsill with an arm. "You don't play that fake bullshit with me, you don't try to kiss my ass or fuck me over either. I like that a lot."

You watched him enjoy his smoke.

"You don't go around blabbering with a huge mouth. You're the only one in that damn building who minded your own business and respected me. I liked that."

You don't think you're any less nosy than your coworkers. But it was fascinating to see yourself through his eyes. Was that how you came off? You just didn't give a crap about Cyprus because he was antisocial and most likely wouldn't help you advance or destroy your career.

"And you're so fucking cute too. I had to snatch you up before anyone else did. But I couldn't lay it too thick, you and your reputation among the other mindless drones. I would have scared you off if I gave you roses in person, those pricks would have made a huge deal if I signed your letter with my full name." He stubbed his finished cigarette against the ashtray on the windowsill. Cyprus turned around and moved to the chair, he pulled it out and sat on it.

"I guess I came on too weak. It's fair. You wouldn't have known your gifts were from me. Did you like the chocolates? They were selling out fast, I knew I had to grab one for you."

You said it was nice, not knowing how to respond to his long rant.

You blurted out a question, asking him how he would define the relationship between you and him.

"You're my girl, duh."

You didn't know how to ask the next question without sounding rude or condescending, you wanted to ask what made him think you agreed to it. But no matter how you try to frame it, your question appears as a rejection. You didn't have to ask to have it answered, since he deduced from your uneasy expression.

"Fine. Deny all you want." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Let's see how long that lasts."

You decided to rip the bandaid out and told him you're not interested in a relationship. You tried to convince him that you were not worth the effort, but your words entered one ear and out of the other.

You were interrupted by a hearty laugh erupting from his throat. It soon died down, Cyprus leaned closer, and he lowered and deepened his voice to a husky growl.

"You should know, that once I set my sights on you, there is no stopping me." His piercing grey eyes struck terror in your heart. "I am a dogged man, princess. I do whatever it takes to get the girl I want and I don't share."

You're uncomfortable, this is a completely different Cyprus than what you're used to. You missed the quiet man who would keep his distance from everyone, not this menace.

You're going to have to figure out how to deal with your new unwanted lover by Monday.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere concept #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc cyprus #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #cw yandere #tw afab reader #male yandere oc #obsessive yandere #tw: yandere #yandere ocs #yandere x y/n

[springseasonie]

just the tip scenario with jeno pls 🥹

When we're alone (M)

Warnings: sexual content, dom reader, sub Jeno, unprotected sex;(shocker), oral (fem receiving) semi-public sex, degrading(if you squint), praising, proofread but may still be errors

Word count: 1,5k

A/N: took this in a different direction than I initially was gonna write it. I hope you like it. this is probably one of my favorite scenarios for Jeno tbh kekeke

You and Jeno can't keep your hands off each other for more than an hour, which landed you in an empty study room at the moment. You always thought Jeno was so cute. A loner, quiet, really smart kid, and a good listener. And just like any other time, he would do anything for you, anything you asked.

And luckily, he was on his knees giving you the best head you had in ages.

Jeno was loud and messy, not caring about getting caught by anyone. Besides, it was just the two of you in there, and no one should be in there till the afternoon. You and one leg in his shoulder and the other planted in the ground. His hand squeezed your thighs constantly, eyes glossed in pleasure as he kept looking up at you for approval.

You loved it. You've never been with anyone who wanted to please you as much as him, and you were starting to get the appeal of submissive men. Just as you were about to put your hand in his hair, he stopped you, grabbing your hand and locking fingers with you.

"Am I doing good," he said, breathing heavily.

"Yes baby, keep going."

And Jeno did just that, licking and sucking you so energetically it was almost impossible. Jeno loved the praise. He loved knowing he was making you feel good, knowing he was doing a good job. Jeno knew when you were getting close. Your panting becomes louder and louder, biting your lip trying hard to not let out a loud whine.

"F-fuck baby, stop for me," you said trying to regain strength from the stimulation.

Jeno shook his head, brows furrowing at how good you tasted. He was addicted at this point, he really needed you to cum on his tongue.

"Jeno, stop," you repeated. Your orgasm was getting closer and closer, but you didn't want to cum yet. You knew how Jeno was when it came to eating you out, so it was unrealistic for you to expect him to stop.

He was completely lost between your legs, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you. But that was quickly cut short by the strong yank of his head off of your core. He looked up at you, eyes big and pretty, lips glossed with your arousal.

"When I say stop, stop." Your tone was stern and serious, making Jeno flustered. He blinked fast, nodding at your words.

"Y-yes Y/N," he stuttered.

"Good boy."

Your words went right to his dick which was extremely hard at this point, but he wasn't allowed to touch himself unless you said so. On a regular day, you would punish him for not listening by not letting him cum, but you were feeling gracious, and really needed a release.

"Stand up."

Jeno moved your leg off his shoulder, standing up clumsily. Jeno watched as you immediately went right to the string of his sweats, undoing them quickly.

"It's funny thinking that everyone thought you were a tough scary guy all this time when really you're just a good boy," you laugh. Your tone was teasing and curt, wanting him to feel your words more. "Isn't it funny?"

"Yeah.." Jeno couldn't even hear you, not when your hand so easily pulled him out his sweats and boxers.

"I shouldn't even let you cum," you mumbled. "But I'm feeling nice today."

He gulped knowing you always had something up your sleeve even on the days you were being nice. You pulled him closer to you, kissing him deeply. You tasted yourself on his tongue, grabbing his jaw roughly.

"Just the tip," you muttered on his lips. "Anything more, and I'm cutting this short.

"Anything for you," he breathed out.

Jeno lifted your leg letting you hold his shoulders for support. He was too eager to feel you around him even if it was just the tip. Jeno stares between the both of you, pressing the head of his length on your core. He swears he could cum just from hearing the pretty sounds leave your lips making him even more sensitive.

Jeno pushed the tip of his length in you, both of you moaning softly at the feeling. "Does it feel so good baby," you moan softly.

"Fuck," was all he managed to say as he moved it out of you, then pushed it back in slowly.

You couldn't take your eyes off the scene between the both of you. There was something so sensual about this, you didn't know what it was, but you knew you loved it. "Keep doing that..shit.."

Jeno kept going, letting the agonizing feeling of you squeezing the tip of his dick taking over his body. Your soft whimpers filled the room, mouth hanging open in pleasure. His hand on your leg squeezed the flesh right every time he entered you leaving prints on your skin. He loved seeing you marked up whether it be from his hands or teeth, you were his and he was the only person you would let do that to you.

You moved one of your hands between your legs, holding onto his shirt tighter to maintain your balance. Your fingers rubbed your clit slowly at the same pace of his thrusting, making you whimper curses softly.

"You're so good Jeno," you breathed out quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." You can tell how impatient Jeno was getting. He just wanted to plunge himself into you wanting to feel all of you around him. But that's why you liked him so much - no matter how impatient he got, he always listened.

You started to rub yourself faster, desperate for a release. Jeno could feel you starting to pulse around him, making the male whine softly in your neck at the feeling of you constantly squeezing around him.

"I'm so close Y/N," he said, muffled in your neck.

"I know baby," you huffed out. "Don't move anymore, just stay still. Let me make your pretty cock cum."

Jeno nodded, whimpering on your skin with his eyes shut. He needed more, he wanted you to cum as hard as he was going to. So Jeno took your hand away from between your legs and replaced it with his own. He rubbed you faster, almost making you cry out in pleasure. Your covered your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loudly. Jeno pressed harder on your clit, making you throw your head back in absolute bliss.

Jeno pushed himself completely inside of you, cumming deep in you with a low groan. He just couldn't help himself, the constant attention to his tip felt so good, too good. The sudden stretch from Jeno pushed you completely off the edge, making you cum around him almost instantly.

Both of you stood there leaning into each other's bodies covered in a light sheen of sweat breathing heavily. Jeno looked at you, raising his head from your shoulder. He was expecting you to berate him for being disobedient, but all you could do was give him a smug smile, and chuckle softly.

"Sometimes I love when you don't listen," you admitted, laughing softly.

"I couldn't help myself, seriously," he laughed.

"You did so good today." You smiled as you kissed him softly still trying to catch your breath.

"Really? But I-"

"It doesn't matter," you said, cupping his face. "You were a good boy today."

Jeno blushed, a small smile creeping on his face as he let your leg down. He pulled out of you slowly, immediately covering your core not wanting any of his seed to fall. Just when you think you could go about your day, he always manages to do something that makes you want to reward him again, and again, and again.

"After we get ourselves together, do you wanna go see a movie," you asked him, analyzing his expression.

Jeno looked at you with wide eyes and a surprised happy expression. "Yeah, of course." He kissed you softly, smiling on your lips. You pulled away, stepping your foot back into your underwear, sliding them up quickly before his cum started to drip out of you. You fixed your dress, straightening with your hands to make sure you didn't look too compromised.

Jeno just stood there watching you, absolutely enthralled in everything that you are. He really did like you alot, despite being teased and degraded. He gulped suddenly feeling flushed about his nakedness. You watched, giggling softly as he fixed himself up, tying his sweats back into place.

"Ready to go," you asked.

"Yeah let's go." You grabbed his hand, walking out of the room as Jeno stared down at his feet. For some reason, he was just so cute. His face was still red, but he put his bruting, mean poker face back on like you didn't just dominate him in the other room.

But you knew he was going to do whatever you wanted wherever you wanted, so this trip to the movies was definitely going to work in your favor.

#nct #nct u #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct smut #nct x reader #nct oneshot #nct scenarios #jeno #jeno smut #jeno scenarios #jeno fanfic #jeno imagines #jeno x reader #lee jeno

[kisscara]

can i req scara w a motherly s/o? like he gets a lil injured and s/o just babies him? i feel like that would be funny lmao

doctor, help me! [scaramouche x gn!reader] ⎯⎯ fluff, wanderer!scaramouche

a/n: keeping everyone safe from the angst.. for now. anyways thank u for requesting, anon :3 it's short and simple but i still hope u like it nonetheless ^__^

"kuni..." you cry out, "if you keep on doing this, i'm going to end up leaving you!"

scaramouche merely stares at you with a deadpan expression from across the dinner table. "(name), i pricked my finger on a stick." he furrows his brow and watches as you continue to dramatically throw a tantrum.

"it doesn't matter!" you continue to furiously dab a ball of cotton that's lightly wettened with alcohol against his fingertip. scaramouche draws out a tiring sigh, muttering, "sometimes, i wonder whether you're my lover or my doctor."

but he has to admit, he likes seeing you like this. distraught by his safety and running all over the place, looking for the first aid kit if he got something as simple as a paper cut. "your skin is so beautiful and your safety is my top priority, yet you get into these types of dangers on the daily!"

ah, there you go again. your endearing praise for him mixed with your tone of worry. what would he do without you? scaramouche doesn't reply this time, but it's more like he's struck with silence. with his lips slightly agape, he admires your face.

you're always telling him how pretty he looks, how soft his face is, how alluring his eyes are, but not once has he seen himself that way. scaramouche doesn't notice how a smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he sees you gnawing on your bottom lip in fixation, continuing to nurse his tiny wound.

you straighten your posture and put away the cotton ball. pressing a kiss to his finger, you gently blow on it afterwards. "there, all better. that must have been hell for you to go through!" you exclaim with a frown, tightly embracing him in your arms. scaramouche could only remain silent.

the next day, he'd gone to help the traveler with their commissions. of course, he had to go through the usual routine, with you clinging to his arm, whining his ear off to refrain from hurting himself too much. "oh, what a worrywart," he mumbles aloud, catching the attention of his traveling companion.

"is it about (name) again?" aether queries with a laugh. scaramouche gives him a side glance before loudly exhaling. "i just don't understand why they're so protective of me and my well-being. it's not like my body belongs to them, does it?"

paimon floats next to aether and while shaking her head, she says, "you're right, it doesn't belong to them. but they are your (s/o), correct?" aether looks back to scaramouche, who gazes towards sumeru's wide horizon and nods as a response.

"then it makes perfect sense! they're your (s/o) as much as you're theirs, so of course they'd want you to stay safe! right, traveler?" paimon carefully nudges aether against the shoulder and aether smiles, "do you understand now, wanderer?" scaramouche knits his brows together.

love is still such a foreign concept to him.

paimon claps her hands together for a few times, "here, i got a more simple way of explaining it! say, someone were to hurt them, physically or verbally, would you want that?" scaramouche instantly replies and faces the odd fairy while crossing his arms, "no, who do you think i am?"

paimon points out, "there it is! see, that's how (name) feels about you. with you... erm, getting into physical brawls everyday, they'd definitely feel concerned, don't you think?" scaramouche's pupils dilate in realization. is that how much you mean to him, for you to constantly baby him over the littlest things?

a pink tint arises on his face and he holds the brim of his hat, head turning the other way. "tsk, i wouldn't expect any less of them." scaramouche grows flustered when he realizes paimon giggling and aether attempting to hide his wide grin.

"(name)? i'm bac-"

scaramouche lets out a muffled noise of surprise when you rush to him, your arms immediately enveloping his torso. "i missed you..." you bury your face into his shoulder and scaramouche chuckles. "i missed you too, my dear." he tilts your chin upwards with his finger and you frown.

"did you hurt yourself?" you ask. this time, of all times, he doesn't fail to notice the way you tighten your grip on his clothes. scaramouche holds your hand against his face and sighs, "no. i tried my best not to." you beam, "really?" scaramouche kisses your fingertips one by one and he closes his eyes.

"thank you, (name), for loving and caring for me."

© kisscara

#📼 — 𝓦.𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. #✎﹏ 𝐚non #gender neutral reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #genshin imagines #genshin imagine #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfics #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfictions #scaramouche #genshin fluff #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche imagines

[sorapluskimomi]

*:･ﾟ✧ Pocky game with Azul *:･ﾟ✧

short notice: got this idea while randomly scrolling through leona ao3 fics lolololol also the reader is referred as the perfect + they/them used

CW: none really just azul being a blushing insecure mess + poor proof reading bc im lazy

"Huh, you want to try this?" Azul cocked an eyebrow whilst sitting behind his desk.

His eyes nervously darted from the Perfect's happy face to a well-known classical red pocky package in their right hand. The merman knew very well what those treats were for if it hadn't been for Idia babbling about it the other day. A silly thought of trying it out popped into his head back then, but he quickly dismissed it. It would be too embarrassing to do that, especially when it's with him. How he wished to to die on the spot, his cheeks were literally on fire. Oh how he prayed for it to be not that noticeable.

"Of course I do! As long as you're fine with it," the Perfect chirped as they practically radiated sheer excitement.

Azul couldn't say no to such beautiful sight, he didn't want to as well. Maybe this time he will let it slide, it's just a simple goofy game, nothing serious. It's not like he'll fail something this easy? It's not like they would feel repulsed by the end of it, they offered it first after all.

"My my, darling, you seem rather enthusiastic about it. Then I'm obliged to indulge you, how could I not?" spoke Azul while attempting to sound smooth and calm as usual.

Jumpy notes in his tone could be heard, which greatly contrasted his still somewhat composed stature.

The next scene showcased how the Perfect was waiting for Azul to take the other side of the pocky. Their hands were placed on both sides of the armchair, leaving Azul without a chance to slip away. A tad uncomfortable position yet they would do anything to fluster their beloved even more. And speaking of Azul, the merman was already dying of shyness. All his confident talk and looks gone in seconds. Soon he encouraged himself to gently bite his side showing that he was more than ready to hide if anything goes south. And like that it went:

With each careful bite their face got closer. The Perfect didn't budge even the slightest meanwhile Azul failed to stop his heart from jumping out of his chest. He only could wonder how they managed to keep themselves together. He wondered if they could hear how loud was his heart beating. Somehow the merman managed to get himself out of the stupor and he did what his beloved was doing — biting the pocky stick and slowly making their way to his lips.

Now the Perfect's lips were one inch away from his. Azul stopped for a second to realize it but as soon as he did so, The Perfect moved even more dangerously close. Finally their lips crashed into a soft honey-like kiss. The Perfect moved their hands to Azul's cheeks while straddling him, standing like before was so uncomfortable. Why not sit on Azul? The poor merman was about to explode from this close contact. He felt like he was melting under their touch. Throwing aside every unforthcoming thought, he pressed back. It felt so good to the point he forgot about everything. He didn't care that it was in his office where anyone could barge in, especially Jade and Floyd. Shortly after they pulled away, this kiss was way more passionate than Azul had expected. Both of them stayed silent for a few seconds until the Perfect's laughter broke it.

"H-hey! What's so funny all of a sudden?" apprehensively asked Azul with a slightly concerned face.

He was about to drown in his overthinking until the Perfect answered back:

"You're so cute when you blush this hard,"

"What? I AM?"

Azul hurriedly searched for some kind of mirror to see was it that bad actually. He unlocked his phone and before his eyes really was a blushing mess with a small string of salvia in the corner of his mouth from kissing.

"Thank god Jade and Floyd didn't see this, they wouldn't let me live it down... I would be forced to make them sign another NDA," he sighed.

"Tehehehe." Giggled the Perfect as they kissed his forehead.

Azul, despite being a complete agitated mess right now, sweetly smiled at his darling.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #azul ashengrotto #x reader #s/o #y/n #pocky game #fluff #deargodnowordscanexpresshowmuchilovethisman

[sluttyminghao]

reaction to them giving you a tummy bulge ? 👀

Seungcheol: he wouldn’t notice at first until you bring one of his hands to your abdomen and it’s only then he stops and runs his hand over it. and then thrusts particularly hard and cums very quickly just from the sight of the bulge

Jeonghan: this little shit would 100% notice and teases you about it. “you see that? look how deep i am inside you, can you feel me hitting you hard and deep hm?” he’s going to make you describe the feeling to him until you collapse

Joshua: he’d notice right before he cums, which only makes him cum harder. but, when he’s cum he gets a good look at his cock twitching inside you and he’d go again for round 2 and watches the bulge with every thrust

Junhui: oh man... he’d have no words, just runs his hand over the bulge a couple times, and then uses your hand and runs over it again, and keeps your hand there while he thrusts into you slowly so you can feel every single inch of him

Soonyoung: he’d probably feel it on accident and think there’s something wrong and gets Concerned. but then you have to tell him, between moans and whines, that it’s actually his dick and he’d go nuts. ballistic if you will. you’re seeing stars for hours.

Wonwoo: this bitch would be like “look at that sweetheart, look at my cock and tell me what you’re feeling” and makes you run your hand over it, and if you were to squeeze it? be prepared to be fucked harder than you’ve ever been fucked

Jihoon: he’s pretty observant, so he’d notice right away and fuck you slowly just to see the bulge move and drive you crazy. when you complain he’s going too slow, he makes a point to go slower and grabs your hand to run over the bulge at the same time

Seokmin: he’d get really flustered and cum on the spot the moment he realizes he’s given you a tummy bulge, but would fuck you through the orgasm and fucks you as hard as possible, his eyes glancing at the bulge every so often and groaning loudly

Mingyu: he does it on purpose. full stop. it’s like his mission to get that bulge happening and every time he succeeds he smirks and gets super cocky and fucks you hard and fast, multiple times until you’re shaking and trembling

Minghao: man would be hella cocky! you can feel the bulge, running your hand over it and whining. “thats a pretty bulge isn’t it baby? look how i fill you up...” it turns him on even more and honestly...he’d def film it for later purposes

Seungkwan: “what’s that?” would press against it and realizes it’s a fatal mistake because he’s pressed right against his tip and made himself even more sensitive, and has to compose himself for a solid 5 minutes before fucking you again

Vernon: he wouldn’t pay any mind at first, but would notice when he’s got you kneeling in front of a mirror and he’s fucking from behind, and all he can do is moan and press his hand against it, almost rutting against it until he’s cumming hard inside you

Chan: oh my god... this would rile him up so much! he would be fucking you so hard and fast, and only rapidly increases his pace at the sight of the bulge. after he’s done with you and cleaned you up, he’d kiss the area and run his hands over it, knowing he’ll be fucking you again shortly

#sluttyhao reaction #sluttyhao scenario #sluttyhao ot13 reaction #kpop smut #kpop reaction #kpop scenario #seventeen smut #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenario

[justlikemebutsixfootthree]

ii. one time thing

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: criticism and thoughts are welcomed and encouraged :) there is one use of y/n!

part i. part iii.

1358 words

it’s easy enough, to hide himself away in the kitchen with you and ignore the rest of the party. how george knows so many people, let alone allows them into his home, is beyond him. several minutes ago he saw someone drinking a pina colada out of an old rugby cup trophy.

animals, the lot of them.

“you’re frowning again,” you point out and he reaches for the whisky behind your shoulder. this time, he doesn’t flinch when he sees that stripe of blue this time, though he does wonder what other colours look like painted across your skin. the faint pink of your blush. the bronze and gold in the stretch of your limbs. the richness of your hair curled just so.

“oh, now you’re really frowning.”

he huffs and turns to face you, his hip pressed into the countertop. maybe direct exposure will lessen the impact.

“where’s jake tonight?”

it’s your turn to frown. “i think you mean josh.”

no, he means jake. he refuses to call the man by his name. he looks like a jake – some dreary character that wears muscle tees and snapbacks. he has a goatee, for god’s sake.

when he does nothing but give you a blank look, you frown and pick at your thumb. “that didn’t really go anywhere,” you shrug. “we weren’t a good match.”

“oh?” he does his best to seem uninterested. the last time he saw the two of you together was during ross' birthday. he knew that ross didn't approve of 'josh', but he wanted his baby sister happy, and that night your laugh was loud and unencumbered. you had looked happy.

matty hated it.

you shrug again and he wonders if you keep up with that little movement of your shoulders if they’ll freeze that way. you've given him more shrugs in the span of one evening than perhaps the entire duration of your knowing one another.

“what was it then?”

“what was what?”

“what led you to believe it wasn’t a good match?”

and for whatever reason, this is the question that sets your face aflame. a loud, violent blush light up your cheeks before spreading down your neck, tripping over the jut of your collarbones. he grins in response, and you scrunch your nose.

“oh, now i must know.”

you give him a look, all flushed skin and angry little eyebrows. “no.”

delighted, he crosses his arms over his chest, his forearms brushing your fingers where you hold your glass. “was he married?”

you look personally affronted by the question. “no, he most certainly was not!”

“was it the goatee?”

you deliberate before answering. “no.”

the goatee certainly played a part, then.

“was he bad in bed?” matty gasps in mock theatrics, enjoying the way you shift from foot to foot, flustered and annoyed with that mesmerizing blush heating your skin. 

you open your mouth to respond and then slam it shut, eyeing your half-empty glass before tipping the liquor back. you eye his glass, too, and curl your fingers around his, guiding his glass to your mouth and downing his drink in one go. it does something interesting to his chest, that, your fingers tucked between his own. the press of your bottom lip just grazed his thumb. his question, it had been in jest, but the way you were furtively looking at him out of the corner of your eye, fingertips tap tap tapping on you empty glass, he –

“i am not discussing this with you, matty.”

oh, and we have a winner. it lights him up inside. not that you were left without satisfaction, of course. but that he - he knew it. he knew it. he knew that josh was a selfish, bumbling, idiot of a man.

“i see,” he nods sagely and set his glass on the countertop, doing his best to flatten his smile.

“you see nothing,” you seethe. your eyes narrow. “stop smiling, you idiot. this isn’t funny.”

“i’m not smiling,” he says, absolutely, one hundred percent, grinning from ear to ear.

“you are, and you’re terrible,” you huff, frown, and look for more liquor.

“i truly don’t understand the big deal,” you mutter to yourself. “what everyone is always going on about. i find the whole thing rather boring.”

and just like that, everything around him screeches to a halt. his thoughts, blissfully silent. the chatter and the music and the laughter of the party around him sound as if it’s coming from underwater. he watches you through a daze as you pour yourself another finger of something golden, hand shaking slightly as you shoot it back, the back of your hand pressed to your lips. the pieces float together slowly at first, your words arranging and rearranging in his mind before he comes to a sudden, startling revelation.

“y/n,” he whispers, horrified. “have you not had good sex?”

you frown at a spot on the countertop. “i am not discussing this with you. now, tell me where george keeps the vodka.”

it’s not the most graceful of subject changes, but he allows it. you prattle on about george's shit taste in alcohol and what he deems "party music" and things of that nature while matty does his best to keep his brain from imploding. it's one thing to be unsatisfied with a partner, quite another thing to never experience pleasure in bed whatsoever. you had said – you said you found it boring? a series of images flicker across his mind – you, in a variety of positions – and none of them inspire boredom. just what kind of people have you been with? what kind of people have you allowed the privilege of seeing you, being with you?

it feels like the worst sort of travesty. one, that unworthy people were ever allowed into your bed. the second, you not experiencing all that you're meant to. a woman such as you, you deserve – well, he thinks you deserve everything and more.

the idea comes to him suddenly, perfectly, absolutely stunning in its clarity.

“we should have sex,” he blurts, and you freeze in the middle of whatever you were saying. literally freeze, your hand held immobile in front of you mid-gesture.

it’s the perfect solution, really. you would have a night of satisfaction. an education, as it were, on all the benefits to be found in good sex. and he would finally, finally, be able to purge you from his system. one night of incredible, mutual pleasure and his mind would finally get over this bizarre fixation. direct exposure, as he theorized earlier, to lessen the impact.

you gape at him. “i beg your pardon?”

he steps closer, mindful that they are at a crowded party, and this is not the sort of thing you yell across a crowded kitchen. “we should have sex, you and i. i believe i could show you a good time.”

you blink at him, your face pale in the light that dances overhead. 

“show me a good time,” you repeat back to him slowly, trying out the words on your tongue. his smile starts to dip on his face. it’s not the – well, it’s not the response he had hoped for, to be sure. you don’t seem to be intrigued by his proposal whatsoever. in fact, you look – you look rather horrified.

“matty, i – “ your big eyes look glassy, muted, a hurt lurking in their depths. you curl your fingers around your elbows, folding in on yourself. “i didn't think you could be more of a dick.”

you barely manage to get the words out before you're brushing past him, slipping from the kitchen to the overcrowded living space, that damned swipe of blue paint on your back the last thing he sees before you disappear into a sea of people.

his heart pounds in his chest, uneasy and unsure, not quite certain where he went wrong. he knows it was a brash decision, perhaps spoken too bluntly, but he always thought of you as a to-the-point type of person. you've always valued – hell, he’s an idiot – you've always valued honesty.

and he hadn’t been honest with you at all.

#matty ⎕ ‧₊˚ #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 #the 1975 imagine #matty healy #fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy drabble #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #the 1975 matty #the 1975 imagines #the 1975 preference #the 1975 preferences #the 1975 one shot #the 1975 one shots #the 1975 fanfiction #matt healy #matthew healy #matty healy preference #matty healy imagine #matty healy imagines #matty healy preferences #matty healy one shot #matty healy one shots #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut

[kipsels]

Cross-Pollination

Dan Heng x Stelle

ft. Dan Feng

There is a great level of expertise required to safely navigate the galaxy. There were things like wormholes and neutron stars and black holes that skewed charted courses, plus a bunch of other things Stelle didn’t really understand.

But what she did know was that when Himeko and Mr Yang started talking about the nuances of the Astral Express’s flight through space, her brain started to go all fuzzy like it had been filled with the static sound of white noise.

She regretted not listening to them more, sure. But even if she had she doubted it could have explained this.

A man who looked suspiciously like Dan Heng was standing in her bedroom, casually perusing his surroundings like he belonged there. Except Stelle was pretty sure he wasn’t Dan Heng, and he definitely did not belong there.

“Who are you?” She blurted out, unable to comprehend the fact that there was a strange Vidyadhara man staring back at her.

“I see someone has decided to redecorate The Express,” He said in lieu of an answer.

“Uh? Wha-?” She intelligently replied, her jaw lost somewhere on the floor from the shock.

Some small part in the back of her mind that wasn’t paralysed by the strange situation politely pointed out that his regal clothing looked like that of a high elder. Except he also wasn’t Bailu.

At least, she didn’t think that was Bailu.

She watched as he combed the lengths of his black hair behind one pointed ear, a small smile lighting up his handsome features.

“You must be a new member of The Nameless,” He said as he approached, picking up her limp hand from where it hung by her side. “My name is Dan Feng, I'm the High Elder of the Xianzhou Luofu. And… Baiheng’s friend.”

Dan Feng… High Elder of the Xianzhou Luofu….

Huh!?

Stelle gaped at him as he bowed low before her, his lips brushing against the back of her knuckles. She’d barely recovered when he straightened, his bright aquamarine eyes idly perusing her from head to toe.

What in the ever living space-time continuum was happening right now?

“And what is your name, my fair lady?”

“Uhh… Dan Heng?” Stelle called out loudly.

Dan Feng blinked at her, his eyebrows raising in surprise, “Your… name is Dan Heng?”

“N-no my name is Stelle– Wait, no! What am I doing? DAN HENG!?”

“Stelle,” He mused, unfazed by her flustered cries, “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I am disappointed Baiheng has not seen fit to introduce us beforehand.”

Stelle stumbled backwards, Dan Feng’s grip on her hand the only thing keeping her upright. Her mind raced as it tried to reconcile the fact that Dan Heng’s predecessor was standing before her, very real and very alive.

And very forward.

“Your scent, it’s rather beguiling… I’d like to get better acquainted with it,” He purred, and a squeak escaped Stelle’s mouth.

“Dan Heeennng!?”

“It’s Dan Feng, my dear.” He pulled her closer, Stelle’s hands coming up to press up against his firm chest to keep him away.

“Stelle? Is everything okay? I thought I heard you calling my n–”

Dan Heng appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, his eyes bulging out of his head in shock.

“You did not tell me there was another Vidyadhara male aboard this ship,” Den Feng spoke tersely, his arm wrapping around her waist.

“Save me,” Stelle mouthed silently to Dan Heng, who looked like his sleep paralysis demons had come to life before him.

The analogy was probably not all that far off.

Dan Heng shook himself out of his stupor, his hands raised as he cautiously approached. “How is this even possible? How are you even here?”

“I am here at the invitation of The Nameless, while you are…”

Dan Feng seemed to pause, his eyes running over Dan Heng in consideration. Time seemed to slow as he registered the mirror image reflecting back at him, the youth in Dan Heng’s features unable to hide the truth.

“A temporal paradox…” Stelle heard the two of them mutter in unison.

“I did not think I would ever be presented with the opportunity to look my own reincarnation in the eye, but such blessed opportunities should not be overlooked,” Dan Feng continued, his head tilting to the side in curiosity.

“Tell me, boy. Did I find a solution to the Vidyadhara’s plight in my time?”

Dan Heng’s eyes hardened, barely biting back a scowl. Stelle's heart panged with sympathy, unable to stop herself from reaching out to him for comfort, only to be tugged back into place by her High Elder captor.

“It could cause irreparable damage to tell you the future, you know that,” He growled.

Dan Feng’s eyebrow quirked, “So I failed.”

Dan Heng screwed his mouth shut, opting to simply glare at Dan Feng in silence.

Stelle remained frozen in place by the bizarre reality of the situation while wishing she’d taken more time to learn about the laws of physics.

“And you? Have you continued my endeavour?”

“I am not the High Elder. It’s not my problem.” Dan Heng bit back.

Stelle flushed as she felt Dan Feng’s chest press against her back, his hands stroking down the length of her forearms before threading his fingers through her own. Her stomach fluttered as he nosed at her hairline, breathing in her scent like a fine perfume.

“Then, if you are not willing to fulfil your duty to the Vidyadhara and seek the longevity of the draconic bloodline, I shall do it for you.”

Stelle squeaked.

Dan Heng gasped.

And Dan Feng pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, faint laughter brushing against her skin.

-Fin-

#honkai star rail #drabble fic #stelle #dan heng #danstelle #dan feng #hsr #cross posted onto twitter #hsr stelle #hsr dan heng #crack fic

[starlightts-posts]

Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader

part 2

part 1

a/n: i struggled so much with this you have no idea

Catching a glimpse of the bottom half of your amber-colored Ikran on his left, Neteyam tightens his grip on his aquamarine banshee and draws in a shuddering breath, preparing himself for the gigantic tsunami of teasing that is about to strike.

"That wasn't nice," you push forward and align yourself next to him, a smug smile decorating your lips. You frown at the lack of response and steal a glance his way. Your shoulders sink along with the corners of your mouth, the calm atmosphere changing.

"Hey," your eyes soften at the sight, your usual sarcastic and snarky tone sweet as honey itself, however, Neteyam doesn't bother to look at you and soars higher in the tepid wind. You roll your eyes at his sulking behavior and encourage your Ikran to follow him above the fluffy clouds. "You're gonna be the death of me."

Neteyam steals a glance your way and narrows his eyes, "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you are mentally okay," you tap your forehead, "so we don't find you spread out on the ground."

"How nice of you," his tone is dripping with heavy sarcasm and a tad of irritation which, for some unexplainable reason, makes your fingertips tingle. "But I don't need the source of my headache to follow me around."

You gasp and press your palm against your pounding heart, "That hurt."

"Good."

Silence falls upon the two of you, but instead of being filled out by awkwardness and unspeakable tension you seem to have quite often, it's seasoned with comfort and hidden attraction.

With a quick flash of certain thought before his eyes, your banshee releases a pleased roar as he lowers himself below Neteyam, confusing the other rider with the change. You outstretch your arm towards the white belly of the aquamarine Ikran and tickle her. The banshee shivers and stifles a growl in her throat, alerting Neteyam about her discomfort.

The boy shivers as well when you caress his Ikran's belly once again and acknowledges the unbearable ache in his chest. Neteyam pats the side of his banshee's neck in order to soothe her uneasiness and suppresses a hum of delight when you brush your fingertips against her chest.

"Come on!" he whines, flustered by the big amount of affection he and his Ikran are receiving. A beaming laugh finds its way to his pointed ears and makes them twitch, "Not funny."

You reappear on his left with the back of your hand shielding your satisfied grin. Neteyam shakes his head at your childishness, bitting his bottom lip to hide his growing smile.

"You're smiling!" you point out, clapping your hands. "That confirms that I am funny."

Neteyam scoffs, "You? Funny? No." You push your Ikran towards his, earning a hiss from the animal and a gasp from her rider. "You're given one minute to fly away from us as far as you can."

-

"Come on," you breathe out with tears in the corners of your eyes, trying to capture his hands in yours to prevent him from tickling your sides. "This is unfair!"

Neteyam wraps his fingers around your wrists to stop your constant wiggling beneath him and allows his weight to pin you down to the floating mountain you decided to land and hide on.

Your rapid breathing comes to a halt after you catch his gaze softening and trailing down to your parted lips. Neteyam draws in a quivering breath and continues to trace your face features with his melting golden eyes as you shift underneath him.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his accent sharp and sickly sweet.

Before you can utter a sentence, snapping of a branch alerts you to an approaching threat. Neteyam offers you a hand to pull you up into a sitting position which you happily accept and get into a defensive crouch. He keeps his fist on the ground in front of you to serve as a shield for you if necessary and scans your surroundings with narrowed eyes.

Your Ikran peeks out of a bush with an annoyed growl, his impatience flashing across his eyes. Neteyam's banshee makes an appearance beside yours with a branch in her mouth, beaming with excitement.

"What are you doing?" you inquire the creatures with a raised brow, standing up. Your Ikran releases a hiss in your direction, showcasing his boredom. "No, we are not leaving."

Neteyam's banshee drops the branch to sneeze and hits yours with her wing in the process, making you wince. Your Ikran glares at the female and bites the skin on her neck in return, "Hey!" you exclaim and throw your arms in the air, catching their attention. "Both of you-- out. Leave. Go sunbathe."

Neither of them move a muscle.

"Asses," you mutter under your breath, your ears flickering. Neteyam catches your gaze and begins to chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing," he shrugs his shoulders while his hands sneak to your exposed sides, smile widening. Before his fingertips can collide with your skin, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and drag him towards the ground.

"Woah!" he places his hands on the back of your thighs to pick you up and save himself from a harsh fall. "That wasn't nice."

You shy away from his sparkling eyes and bite the inside of your cheek, blush spreading across your face.

"Tongue-tied?"

"Shut up," you slap his back, regretting that decision when you almost meet the ground, and tighten the grip you have around him. "Don't drop me."

"What was that?" he purposely releases your legs for a second, making you yelp in surprise. He chuckles at your wide eyes.

"That wasn't funny," you disagree, frowning.

"Your reaction says different."

"Oh, you're so dead."

#avatar #avatar imagine #neteyam #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #james cameron avatar #avatar x reader

[eganeyes]

demarco/macon hcs bouncing around in my head like a pinball incredibly self indulgent and will probably not go anywhere bc i am Not a cohesive writer but this has been in my head and in my notes app for so long it has to come out

benny is literally the chillest person in the us air force hes not repressed to like buck he's just genuinely never really Fazed and even if he was hed be like "well alright" and continue on, like go with the flow is his life motto he's achieved the ultimate zen

so meeting macon and realizing he has Feelings doesnt put a single blip on this mans stability

this: demarco has an intelligence kink. enter macon. (@blood-mocha-latte posted a snippet of her demacon fic abt this exact thing and i have yet to recover)

some more on this bc i cant stop even if i wanted to:

he definitely had a passing crush on buck and kenny bc wowsies they’re so smart

completely platonic ofc ride or die w buck his bestie ground crew is untouchable etc etc

every pilot has got to be like Above Intelligence though and he’s Suffering from it

had a brief hard on for bucky when the man doled out a highly complex pyramid scheme for their imaginary postwar pilot gig whilst drunk and never recovered from the shame bc the next minute the man falls into a ditch with curt

100% enamored with macon ever since the man started elaborating from simple 3rd grade physics to college level dissertation titles. 

that gif of benny humming and hawing at the mud stump while macon explains physics to him has me by the throat

bc benny is genuinely Very Put Together he pursues macon with a singular intensity that frightens macon just a smidge

im talking quality time to the maxxxx, randomly complimenting macons hands, buying him lunch, popping by his base to make friends with all of macons friends, breakfasts and morning runs, polishing forts together, etc etc

please do not ask about the logistics of him popping in and out of macons base i don’t even know how far to each other's current air base is lets consider it 3 cms apart (im like 80% certain they arent even in the same country lmao but whatever its just rot in my brain let me be)

apparently bennys dad is a designer so lets say benny gifts macon with custom flight jacket patches, sweaters, beanie hats, scarves, saying shit like take these with you to your flights and remember me or something insane like that

going with him to doctor appointments for his neck, pressing arms to arms for comfort

meeting meatball is An Ordeal

he either brings meatball with him to the tuskegee base/his flight school the very first time he gets there to rack up more points with macon and co

or he takes macon on a date (will he actually say its a date? who knows) and introduces meatball to him while walking the dog together which is alwayssss such a cute first date/getting to know each other idea oml

macon, completely and utterly flustered bc why is this white boy steadfastly giving him gifts and taking him to lunches and writing him letters and saying shit like hey you going on a test flight with that new plane tomorrow right heres our pic i got printed yesterday put it up with you so you wont miss me yeah

its his superstitious lucky charm now ofc

macon wearing the scarf hes gifted and the boys jeering and whistling every time he shows up wearing it oh

alex drawing a sketch of him and benny laughing together in the officers bar and leaving it in his footlocker

macon then slowly gifting practical little trinkets he cooked up himself for benny,,,benny keeping everything even when some of them get broken bc they're self made trinkets bc they're from his guy guys,,,they're from his guy,,,,

one day macon greets benny by running a hand down from his bare elbow to the tips of his fingers (im talking pride and prejudice, bridgerton levels of insane hand grazing) and benny went completely offline and somebody probably gale had to pinch his side to kickstart him back to life and whatever came out of his mouth next was comprehensible only to meatball

benny leaving meatball with macon and them bonding,,,,,,meatball resting his head on macons lap/feet while macon does Important Paperwork/Calculations,,,,,,,,

also its soooo funny how those two are the shortest of the boys is this actually important to the plot (there is no plot btw) or even in general? no. is it something i noted and kept close to heart? yes.

is this a modern au? a post war au? a no pow au? i literally cannot tell you because i do not know

again just incredible self indulgence sorry

#mota #motafic #but no its #mota hcs #mota headcanons #demacon #benny demarco #richard macon #weirdly enough i never refer to macon as richard will he be richie rick dick rich but rlly none of them hits me as good as macon?? idk #mace??? #BUT this is just what i have and couldn't keep to myself so thank #eganeyes