#cuddly al

[greykolla-art]

💕Can you even CONCEIVE how much I suddenly love them???💕

I think they were strolling around town after having a drink together. And that ends in a little cuddle!😂💕💕💕

Dialogue from The Aristocats, of course.💗💗💗

#grey art #hazbin hotel comic #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin rosie #radiorose #queer platonic relationship #qpr positivity #Rosie is the only person I think Al would be this cuddly with #wait Mimsy too! I just haven’t figured them out for myself yet!😂 #Alastor is an eldritch horror in the body of a gentleman #he has all the riz in the universe! #and I’m falling so deeply in love with Rosie! #she’s so beautiful!

[moe-broey]

Three of them

#fire emblem #feh #DIRECTLY INSPIRED by how sometimes i like to cheat in heroes journey and bring duo al/sharena LMFAOO #two of them and some other guy. idk when it happened it just integrated here. #world is a fuck born to tag along. this applies to BOTH moe and sharena i think. #it is so funny and so important to me actually that 'sometimes there's a third one' applies to both of them #anyways please please PLEASE read into the characterization in the poses bc i'm going to throw up. and cry #like fuck i'll do it for you actually LMFAO like moe is just silly. nosferatu ass. why do you sleep like that. #it doesn't like being touched a whole lot though. it's extremely picky about it. it's easier to hold a stuffed animal instead. #alfonse has a higher tolerance for touch but it's still situational. but when he touches he clings. #also. one hand gripping the plush goat ear. an acknowledgement of moe's boundaries. #and the other hand. lightly subconsciously holding on to a tuft of sharena's hair. #sharena has grown out of being super cuddly w alfonse but she will take any and every opportunity to 'steal body warmth' #she also directly mirrors him. #also i think whenever she shares a bed/sleeping area w someone she's a bed hog. she is pushing you off that thang #if you're not Willing to be smooshed by her. also. which is why alfonse is acting as a barrier here too LMFAO #like it's just a tiny doodle esp cause i didn't have the energy to do more but it made me ache so bad #that i threw up and exploded and died. badly. #fe alfonse #sharena #moe tag #summoner oc #my art

[roxanaagriche111]

Look at them!! They finally came home!!! So cute!!!

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #kalim twst #twst merch #twst toys #twst boys #cute #cute toys #cute anime toys #cuddly #kalim al asim

[ask-theoverseer-max]

♡

Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours

●●●●○ | ATTRACTION

"If we had not met before, weren't both serial killers with unnatural powers, and were at a bar.. I'd give it a shot to hit on ya."

●●○○○ | AFFECTION

"Though I did say I'd try to hit on ya, you got a heart of ice Mr. Wesker. Wonder if it would even beat for another anymore."

●●●○○ | INTEREST

"Looks wise, you look like a rejected Matrix cast member. But Voice and backstory? I'd almost say adds as much to your interest meter for me as does your looks."

●○○○○ | LOYALTY ●○○○○ | TRUST

"... You don't strike me as the type to earn loyalty slowly anymore nor do you give me any reason to trust you. You got goals in motion that you'll see too by yourself if necessary, but such independence has made you as cuddly as a cactus. Maybe a person can change but it takes two to tango, and two to earn loyalty as friends. At least it's how it is with me."

@manufactoredxbyxdesign

#dbd #dbd the overseer #dbd oc #dead by daylight #dbd overseer #dbd oc blog #dbd ask blog #//you're as cuddly as a cactus you're as charming as an Eel Mr Al~Bert!

[thatfreshi]

I was wondering if you could write Astarion having to tend to a very cuddly drunk female Tav. Possibly having to defend her from other people trying to take advantage of her.

This took me on a very sad adventure

TW - blood and gore, attempted sexual assault, drinking

Recommended Song: Drew Barrymore - SZA

The nice thing about no longer being on wild adventures full of tadpoles and cultists is that you and Astarion can go out drinking like normal people. While your vampiric lover thoroughly enjoys a good glass of wine, he usually stops himself at one. Perhaps he's a little paranoid about you, your safety, but he insists not to have more than one when the two of you are out together. At the house? Sure, he'll finish two bottles with you, the two of you drunkenly laughing by the fireplace, but not when danger could be afoot. You try to tell him he's just anxious, tense, that you'll be alright.

"I'd rather just make sure my love. You indulge all you want darling, I'll be fine."

In one of the more rowdy taverns, you and Astarion sit at a table off to the side, watching people get drunk and dance, bumping into strangers, sometimes fights ensue. As per usual, he nurses his singular glass. You look at him, a gleam of sadness in your eyes.

"Are you sure you don't mind? I can just skip out tonight, maybe we can just drink later, when we get back."

"Nonsense, have your fun my sweet. I insist."

You squeeze his hand.

"Alright then, I'm off to get my second... you can tell me to stop anytime!"

You tease as you slowly walk away, almost backing up into a nearby half-orc. He simply smiles at you, one of those smiles that says everything he's thinking, how he thinks you're precious, how he'd gladly never get drunk again if it meant keeping you. Years ago, he would've never given up a vice for some person. But you, you make this feeling well up in his chest, like he has to hold you close at all times, worried someone will snatch you when he's not looking. You may make fun of him for simply being a paranoid person, but you made it a million times worse.

"I'm back!"

Your voice draws out, and you return with two mugs of beer instead of just the one.

"Already going for three darling? You do remember you're a lightweight, right?"

"I'll be fine. Besides, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor is here to take me home if I throw up on someone."

You lie against his arm, starting on your second drink.

"You did eat before we left the house, right my sweet?"

You look up at him silently. He just sighs, running his hand through your hair.

"Then why did you need to go to the kitchen before we left?"

You giggle a little.

"To... pre-game!"

The laughter rings out of your throat as Astarion sighs, again, more annoyed this time.

"So you're telling me-"

"Already gettin' drunk Aster, it's a great time."

The more and more you talk, the more he realizes your words are becoming more slurred. Perhaps he should've asked before you left, made sure you at least grabbed a bite.

"Alright, you stay right here, I'm going to get you some water and a little snack."

He gets up, swiftly grabbing the two mugs off the table while you protest.

"Hey, I wasn't done with those!"

As Astarion makes his way to the bar, asking for the classic drunkard's care package, he's suddenly nervous. Had you ever been this drunk in public before? Maybe the two of you should just go home, before you somehow get your hands on any more alcohol. After thanking the barkeep for the water and some bread, he comes back through the crowd, and sure enough you have left the table.

"Gods damn it Tav."

After setting down what was supposed to be your little pick-me-up, Astarion quickly moves through the groups of people, knowing you probably just got up to dance. The bard playing tonight was quite excellent after all. However, after looking through most of the common space, you're nowhere to be found. That feeling of panic starts to well up inside of him, where he's only driven by fear. He knows you can't be far, but he also knows most of the tavern-goers here are slimy, horrific people looking for their next bag of gold. Walking through the crowd again, Astarion comes near the back entrance, and hears a conversation down one of the abandoned hallways.

"A gal like you, surprised you're here alone."

He rounds the corner, seeing you and a bulky half-elf, your arms pinned above your head. You seem nervous, but not conscious enough to realize anything is truly wrong. Astarion stalks up behind the wretched man, wrapping his dagger around the half-elf's throat.

"No so alone anymore, are we?"

Your captor surprisingly doesn't stand down.

"You won't do shit. People know me around here, important people, they'd surely have your head if something happened to me."

"Not if I hide your body well enough. And trust me, I have experience."

The two of them are un-moving for a moment as your wrists start to go numb from the pressure. You groan in pain, only causing the half-elf to grab you tighter. As Astarion goes to press his blade into the man's neck, he whips around, pushing Astarion back. Gods, he's tall. You fall back against the wall, trying to nurse the pain in your hands. As Astarion and the stranger fight, you hear the sounds of blades colliding, but your head is spinning. Perhaps he was right about the whole 'eat before you drink' thing.

You're interrupted from your thoughts when you hear a loud thump on the floor. The half-elf almost knocked Astarion out. leaving him on the ground. The stranger then turns back to you, lifting you back up from the floor, going to open the back door.

"What a find. Can't wait to enjoy you."

In that moment, while trying to get his bearings, Astarion realizes this wasn't just someone threatening you, and that disgusting feeling fills his stomach. He remembers how many times he shared his body against his will, and the adrenaline of that anger is enough to get him back on his feet. As you and the half-elf make it out the door, Astarion rushes him, tripping one foot out from under him. And then he drives his blade into the stranger's back, again, and again, and again, and again, and again. He's covered in the sinner's blood, shaking with both rage and misery. The violent display helped sober you up just a little, enough to make you realize that Astarion has killed someone behind the bar, and that it was clearly deserved. He looks up, locking eyes with you, still holding his blade down, as if the dead man needs yet another plunging strike in his back.

"Astarion?"

You ask, your voice full of uncertainty, the past few minutes still a blur. He begins to cry, putting his dagger in the ground, slowly crawling over to where you've ended up on the ground. He holds you tight, almost to the point of pain. He doesn't say anything, and you simply watch the blood pour out of the man's corpse as he grips you tight. Flooding memories cover every space of his mind, seduction, imprisonment, and most of all, Cazador's death.

"Astarion... you're hurting my arm."

You say softly, not fully aware of just how distraught he is, still far too inebriated. You're sad though, because he's sad, and you can't quite put together why. He lets go, wrapping his arms under his legs, crying into his knees. You try to comfort him, despite your state.

"It's okay, it's over now."

You don't even know what's over, but if someone is dead and Astarion is still alive, he must've ended it.

"I know."

He chokes out those two pathetic words, looking back up at you.

"We need to leave."

The survival instinct kicks in, knowing he can't explain why this man has at least five stab wounds in his back. The second one of the bartenders finds this, it'll be over.

"Come, this way, we're going to take the back alley."

Snatching up your arm, Astarion leads you through the darkness, mumbling things to himself that you can't quite hear. The two of you move quickly through the night as you stumble around behind him. When the two of you get home, he gets you some water, leading you upstairs so you can lie down.

"Are you okay?"

Such an innocent question. He knows you'll remember tomorrow, that it's not like you're blacked out or anything, just confused.

"I'll be fine my dove. Get some rest now, it's alright."

It's as if he's trying to convince himself, but it's enough for you in your drunken stupor. You curl up into the heavy blanket cast across the bed, and he leaves a kiss on your head. Not long after, you're drifting off to sleep, exhausted.

As Astarion makes his way to the bathroom, he thinks of the horrific things that could've happened, of how cruel humanity is. He thinks about how you have to be the only truly good person in all of Faerûn. He'll never get all the blood off his face, not while you're asleep. His mirror, his sun, his everything, and you were almost tainted the very same way he was.

When you wake up the next morning, Astarion isn't in bed. You try to reach out groggily, looking for that embrace, only to be left with cold sheets. Thinking back on the night before, the memories start to filter in. The drinks, the half-elf, the stabbing, and Astarion sobbing. The full picture isn't entirely there, but there's enough pieces for you to realize. That man, he found you drunk in the tavern, and tried to take advantage of you.

You stumble out of bed, walking down the stairs, rubbing your eyes.

Astarion is in the kitchen, drinking some tea, his eyes bloodshot. You don't say anything, slowly walking up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, holding him tight. He puts his tea down and rests his head on yours.

"Are you alright my love?"

"I'm fine. Are you alright?"

You make some space again, looking up at him, holding his hands in yours. They start to shake again, rage and misery. You move a piece of hair out of his face.

"He didn't do anything to me love, I'm okay."

"Just- the thought of- I-"

He tries to hold back the tears again.

"It's okay, you can cry. It's going to be okay."

With that allowance, the permission to let go, he cries again.

"I don't ever want you to feel like that Tav, the way I felt. It's so, disgusting."

"I know, but it's over Aster. It's over now. You're okay, we're okay."

You wrap around him again, and he continues to weep.

"I love you, so much, and they didn't ruin you, I promise."

That worry, that he'll never be the same, that he's forever fractured now, that a piece of him is gone. Innocence, what a loaded word. Those who are guilty make the innocent feel guilty, and those who are guilty feel powerful, and the cycle continues, always continuing. You stand in the kitchen for a long time, letting him get all of the pain out, your shirt sleeve wet with his tears.

"I just wish I didn't have to be scared anymore."

You frown, thinking on his statement, knowing that no one is ever truly safe. You'll both live in fear forever, of those that think cruelty is accomplishment.

"I know."

It's all you can say, because you can't lie and tell him there's a day he won't have to be scared, that one day all the monsters of the world will be gone. There's nothing to learn, no moral, no mistake to fix, just pain. Pain caused by those who greed after anguish.

"Do you think I've changed? Or am I just as I was, a scared, beaten slave?"

"Gods Astarion, of course you've changed. It's the world that hasn't. We're better than them though, even if that's all we have."

Neither of you reach any resolution, nothing that makes you feel better. Instead, you sit on the sofa by the fire, watching the wood go up in flames, softly speaking about the suffering. You lie in each other's arms, sad. Misery loves company, and the two of you sit in that aura of grieving for a long time, grieving his past, grieving what could have been a kinder world. But here, in this sacred space, where feelings are free to run wild, where you can cry as much as you need, that's the only place you're truly safe. And that's alright, as long as it's together.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #comfort #angst #baldur's gate 3

[rebelfell]

The Third Date

Eddie Munson x Anorgasmic!Reader

When you move back to Hawkins after graduating college, you find yourself reconnecting with an old friend in a new way. Your first two dates with Eddie Munson are everything you’d ever dreamed, but the next one has you unraveling.

Part One. Part Two.

cw: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, fem!reader, deceased parent, mentions of poor sexual experiences, some drinking, sexual anxiety, making out, fingering, panic attack, eddie being sweet and reassuring, fluffy ending.

I was kinda in my feelings and needed Eddie to tell me all the right things. Sue me. 7k 18+, MDNI

You used to like this mirror.

It was vintage. Full length with an ornate gold frame, swirling embellishments on the top and sides. Not to mention it was a fucking steal at $10 from an estate sale. You’d liked it enough to make it one of the scant number of things you hauled all the way back to Hawkins when you moved out of your shoebox apartment in the city.

Right now, though? You kind of hated it. 

Usually, standing before it made you feel stately and elegant, even if all you had on was ratty denim shorts and a threadbare t-shirt riddled with holes and bleach stains. Yet here you were in one of your favorite outfits, hair meticulously styled, face glowing and dewy after spending an hour on it, and all you felt was ridiculous.

Not the mirror’s fault, technically. But it was the messenger. It told you at every twist of your hips, at every outfit change, at every pluck and tug of your clothes, that you were never going to look right—that you were never going to feel right. And it mocked your every failed attempt to do so.

You inhale, breath shallow and shaky as you try yet again to calm down. It’s just a date, you remind yourself. It’s just a date and he’s just a guy. There’s nothing to be worried about. 

Except it wasn’t just a date. It was the auspicious Third Date.

And it certainly wasn’t just a guy…it was Eddie.

This was something you’d been waiting for forever. For longer than forever. For longer than you could count. Eddie Munson was your oldest and dearest friend. Growing up, you were like each other’s second heads—facing the worst of what small minds in a small town in Indiana cooked up. You stood, middle fingers brandished like swords, dreaming of a wider world.

It felt strange to think this would only be your third date when you’d basically been dating since you were thirteen. You went to movies together, wasted weekday afternoons at the record store, lounged on the gravelly bank of Lover’s Lake reading well-worn paperbacks—Two Towers for him, Dorothy Parker for you. He begged you to sit in on Hellfire when he started the club your junior year and only had three members, himself included. He’d sneak you into the dive bar where his band played Tuesday nights, and you would immediately stick out among the five drunks who assembled every week. But as long as all you ordered was ginger ale and swore up and down you weren’t a cop, the bartender let you sit there all night to watch him.

Nights never ended the way “real” dates did. No hands being held as he walked you from his van to your doorstep; no kisses under flickering porch lights scored by a cricket symphony.

He never touched you too much, always quick to withdraw his hands when they lingered on your hip or back or arm. That would change, though, if he smoked or drank a bit and his cuddly side came out. Secretly, you longed for these times. You reveled in having his chin rest on your shoulder or his arms wind around your waist to hold you close. It never felt gross or crossed the line into groping like with other, lesser, guys looking for something to fondle. With Eddie, it felt more like he was showing you how he wished he could be all the time.

At least that’s what you let yourself imagine. 

He always apologized the following day, just short of castrating himself over it. It made you want to slap him. Slap him and then kiss him and slap him again. How could he not get it? How could he not see how goddamn in love with him you were? How could he not feel the same way? You waved him off, assuring him he hadn’t done anything wrong. All the while thinking, you fucking idiot, and not even knowing if you were referring to him or yourself.

Then came graduation. Or rather, your graduation and his sullen admission he wasn't eligible, which lead to the longest, most difficult conversation of your lives so far. It wasn’t even a conversation so much as it was you swinging wildly between reactions—scolding him for not telling you sooner; grasping at the straws of extra credit assignments your teachers would never assign; volunteering to stand guard while he broke into the administration office.

Eventually, though, you had to face the reality of losing him and it left a prominent break in your heart. Your acceptance letter to a school in Indianapolis that used to make you feel weightless, like you could finally fly out of here, now felt more like chains dragging you away.

You had half a mind to take him with you. You must have rehearsed the speech you wanted to make something like fifty times. Screw Hawkins, you’d say. Screw their closed minds and their disdain for anything even a little different. He could get his GED—you’d help him, happily. He could find work in the city and take community college classes or go to trade school. The two of you could live together and watch slasher movies every Friday night, falling asleep on his chest when you got tired just as you’d done all throughout high-school.

Of course those thoughts inevitably spiraled into what would happen once he started dating. A bigger city meant a bigger pool of people, all with the potential to realize the kind, sweet, caring boy who was bursting with passion for his fantasy games and music and his other rich interests was actually a massive catch and not a social pariah. In no time, it would be someone else falling asleep on his chest and you watching them be carried to his bed.

You couldn’t bear the thought of that. Maybe even moreso, you couldn't bear the thought of asking him to come with you and him saying “no.”

So, you went alone. You packed up your car with the barest necessities, you kissed your dad goodbye and said you’d see him at Christmas. But it was Eddie who saw you off, taking you into his arms and holding you there with your head tucked under his chin. You buried your face in his chest, tears leaking onto the patches you’d helped him sew on his denim vest. He told you how proud he was and how much he was gonna miss you. He said to write. To send pictures.

All you could do was sniffle.

At college, you tried expanding your horizons. You joined a couple clubs to make new friends and started going to parties. You met people like Carl. And even though he was handsome and seemed nice enough, you turned him down when he asked you to dinner. It wasn’t until much later, when your roommate scolded you for doing so, that you even felt some doubt about it. What was even the point when you knew he wasn’t what you wanted?

Except what you wanted might never be yours.

That first trip home to Hawkins was wildly unnerving. You knew it hadn’t actually been that long since you left. But why did it feel so strange that everything felt exactly the same? Had you really changed so much already that your home no longer felt like home? 

Even seeing Eddie again felt like rupturing old wounds you thought had successfully scabbed over. You withdrew from him without even realizing you were doing it. He knew something was wrong, but didn’t dare voice it. His greatest fear loomed: you were done with Hawkins. 

Done with him.

It took a while to strike the balance between the old and the new. You’d run away so fast and tried to overwrite everything in your life, returning to Hawkins felt like entering a fantasy world. And Eddie became like an apparition, a specter of everything you missed most. 

You started writing to him more, sharing stories about your classes, gossip in the dorms, drunk adventures in the city. And he wrote back, telling you all about the new members of Hellfire who also happened to play instruments and were eager to replace the members of Corroded Coffin who had graduated and moved away. Eventually, the letters became more like a diary. 

You could confess things you’d never imagined telling anyone—stuff about your mom and how you’d spent every day wondering if she’d be proud of you; how you worried about your dad and wondered if he would ever get over her; how you feared you might never find love like theirs and even if you did, how it might be taken away from you like it was from them.

And he confessed back to you. Amidst his ideas for new D&D campaigns and song lyrics, he gave you deeper insight on things you knew already—his father’s sordid criminal history and his mother’s inability to cope, which led to her dropping Eddie on his uncle’s doorstep at the ripe old age of eleven. Reading about Hawkins through his eyes made it feel more real and less like a dream you’d woken up from. It kept that connection open, a bridge between your worlds, so  you could experience college and all the new things it had to offer, but still felt connected.

Then the end of your sophomore year brought more bad news. 

Again, he wasn’t eligible. Again, he wasn’t graduating.

You’d not been able to let go of that fantasy of him joining you at school. Every time you walked across the quad, leaves crunching beneath your boots, sunlight dying as it dipped behind the old brick buildings and cast everything in a hazy golden autumn glow, you imagined a pair of clean, white sneakers next to yours and a ringed hand squeezing your fingers.

He promised you this was his year. Swore it, in fact. ‘86, baby! he’d scrawled big and messy under his signature at the end of one of his letters. And maybe it would. He said he was doing better—army crawling his way towards a D in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, already planning how he would snatch his diploma and flip the bird at the principal as he walked the stage.

He was certain enough it made you start to believe it too.

You never dared to broach the subject of what he wanted to do after graduation. He hadn’t mentioned applying to any colleges or looking for work. The rest of the band was graduating with him. Maybe they’d all move here to get more exposure. Maybe they wanted to record a demo they could pass out to record companies. Or maybe Eddie wanted to go solo.

The lack of information made you antsy. Was he being decidedly cagey about his plans? Was he hiding something? Or was he just afraid of disappointing you again?

It was nearing the end of the school year when you finally broke. You had to see him.

For once, your spring breaks were going to overlap. You blew off your classes on Friday to make the drive and managed to get to Hawkins High just as the final bell was ringing. His van still sat in the parking lot and you pulled in alongside it to wait, practically jumping out of your skin with excitement. Thirty whole minutes crawled by before you finally spotted him.

He emerged from the woods at the back of the practice sport fields, chattering with ease to maybe the last person on earth you would have expected to see.

Chrissy Cunningham was just as pretty as she’d always been. She was a couple years behind you and Eddie in school, but everyone knew of her from the moment she made the varsity cheer squad as a freshman—a staggering feat no one else had ever managed. She still had the same bouncy ponytail, the same enormous eyes and cherubic cheeks you imagined must ache at the end of each day from her constant smiling. And she was somehow smiling even wider than normal at whatever Eddie was saying as he grinned back at her.

It made your stomach churn thinking what they could have been doing to have her smiling like that. You knew he’d started dealing for Reefer Rick to earn extra money, but in what universe would the queen of Hawkins High be struck with the urge to buy a bag of skunky weed? 

Unless it wasn’t weed she was after at all.

Panic doused your body. You jammed your key back in the ignition and sped out of the lot, praying he didn’t see you. You drove straight back to school, tears streaming down your face for the entire journey, making you hate yourself more with every salty trail that stained your cheeks. Because what else did you expect? For him to pine for you like you did for him? For him to be like you and not date anyone, ever? To keep everyone who even attempted to get close at a distance? Reserving a space in your heart for someone who might not even want to fill it?

You loved him more now than you ever had. Even without seeing him every day, even without having him constantly at your side. If anything, it had gotten worse. Your feelings piled up within you just as his letters did in your room. They all lived in a box under your shitty dorm bed to be pulled out over and over and over so you could parse every line for hidden meaning. Crying at his words, so heartfelt and honest you didn’t even notice the grammatical and spelling errors.

By the time you got back to campus, you felt raw and spent. Your face was streaked with tears and you were breathless from crying. For days, you walked around campus like a ghost until you bumped into Carl, the only other soul not off on some debaucherous Spring Break trip. And when he asked you for seemingly the hundredth time if he could buy you dinner…you said yes.

It came in the mail a few months later. Your address scribbled messily on an invitation to the Hawkins High Class of 1986 graduation. Eddie had included a photocopy of his final grades and written “proof it’s not a clerical error” with a little smiley face in the corner.

You called him that night to tell him how proud of him you were. And you were proud of him. So unbelievably proud. But when he asked if you were coming, you lied. You said your boyfriend’s parents would be in town and that he wanted you to meet them. You told him how sorry you were, all the while thinking Chrissy could congratulate him enough for the both of you. 

And in spite of yourself…you let yourself pretend you heard a little dejection in his voice when you used the word “boyfriend”—fictitious as it was.

The truth was, you’d only been officially dating Carl for a couple weeks. And he was perfectly nice. He’d kissed you and it felt fine. It didn’t quite live up to what you believed it should feel like, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe what you imagined wasn’t realistic. Maybe what you thought it should be wasn’t feasible.

Maybe you just had to let that go.

And dating Carl was simple and uncomplicated. It served a purpose. It made you feel at least like you weren’t languishing in a wasteland of your unrequited feelings. It made you feel like you were trying. Sure, the sex wasn’t great. But you hardly expected it to be good for you. 

You’d hooked up with the odd guy here and there over the years. It was a pattern that began with some guy you met downtown whose assignment was to keep you occupied while his friend put the moves on your roommate. You were a little drunk and a lot lonely, so you’d gone along with it. It was quick. A little uncomfortable. It certainly didn’t make you eager to repeat the experience. But at least you could say you’d done it.

Part of you thought maybe it would get better, but it never did. 

Even guys you thought were decent at first were quick to gloss over the preamble and lead up, jumping straight to stuffing themselves inside you with no regard to your winces of discomfort. It didn’t take long before you started to assume you had to be the problem. Even by yourself, it took you ages to reach any sort of precipice. And even when you did, even when you felt your heart rate rising and your body heaving in response, the pay-off was…underwhelming.

With Carl, you thought it could be different. Maybe you needed a deeper connection; maybe you needed a few times to get comfortable with someone to properly ascend that peak. But the more you did it with him, the less attainable that seemed. Maybe you were just broken. 

You also tried not to dwell on the fact that the only times you ever got close were when you pictured a different face hovering over yours; when you imagined your fingers twisted up in dark, shaggy curls; when you visualized pale skin littered with tattoos and sinewy arms caging you in; when you lit that one candle you only bought because it reminded you of Eddie’s cologne.

The decision to move back home turned out to be less a decision and more a necessity.

A whole year out of school and you’d had truly terrible luck finding a job—at least a decent one that actually wanted to pay you. Carl, ever the charmer, wondered why you even wanted to work when you’d just wind up quitting when you got married. Really, you appreciated it. It was exactly the kind of comment you needed to jolt you out of a relationship that had been on autopilot.

You were a mess. Lost. Aimless. Barely treading water. Wishing you could call the one person you knew would cheer you up, but unsure if it would only result in more heartache. In the blink of an eye, it had been over five years since you left home and it was starting to feel like your only accomplishments were breaking up with your boyfriend and buying a mirror.

Then came the call from your dad.

He’d taken a nasty fall at his hardware store. He was fine, for the most part. But he was now significantly weaker and would have to have surgery as well as physical therapy after. And he certainly couldn’t run his store anymore. It had never run particularly smoothly to begin with and his books left something to be desired—another thing you’d be helping with once you moved back. He never outright asked you to do so, but he also didn’t have to.

The only good news was the bad news: a massive fire that disintegrated Starcourt Mall had led to an influx of renovations to the downtown area. In the wake of the mall’s destruction came a resurgence in small businesses that breathed life back into the desolation the mall caused.

It was in this newly resurrected downtown where Eddie was making his mark. He had opened a hobby shop where he still hosted his weekly D&D games with a lot of the kids who had originally been in his club. His store became like a beacon for all the kids (and even some of the adults) in Hawkins who felt there was no place for them. Eddie gave them somewhere to belong and celebrated all the things that made them targets of ridicule to everyone else.

It was also your first stop on your first day back.

The whole shop was so Eddie. As you walked inside and took in the decor, it seemed entirely possible he had just moved everything from his bedroom at Wayne’s right in here. He’d even rigged the entrance with a speaker that played the guitar riff of “Enter Sandman” when someone came through the door. 

You wished you could bottle the moment he came out front, your arrival signaled by the song.

“Holy shit…”

The box of miniatures and figurines he’d just finished pricing in the back fell to the floor with a thump and a rattle of plastic parts. He barely registered it, though. With round, unblinking eyes he stared, too stunned to move a muscle until a smile cracked his face wide open.

In just three long strides he crossed the store and swept you into his arms, lifting you up and whirling you around. “You’re here!” he gushed, arms crushing you around the middle in the most exquisite pain. “You’re really here!”

“I told you I was moving back!” 

You laughed heartily in his ear as he placed you back on the ground, telling yourself it must have been the unexpected lift making you breathless and not how the sunlight coming through the windows hit his eyes and made them shine like molten honey. He kept you close, letting his hands rest on your arms and squeezing them like he had to be sure you weren’t a mirage.

“I thought it was one of those ‘too good to be true’ things,” he said sheepishly, a pink blush creeping across his cheeks. “Had to see it to believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” you sighed.

You were already prepared for the loss of his touch, for when he would shamefully retract his hands, but he never did. He held you comfortably, his thumb lightly brushing over your skin. He let you go reluctantly, not regretfully, letting his fingertips trail softly down your arm.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, his voice coated in warmth. “I missed you so much.”

You nodded, your throat pinched as you tried not to cry. “I…I missed you too.”

Eddie’s smile grew even bigger, his eyes seeming to dance with excitement. “Well, we have to celebrate,” he said. “I close up shop at six. Meet me back here and we’ll go to the Hideout?”

You stalled, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you considered. Almost on instinct, you’d nearly agreed right away. Old habits and what not. But did you want to fall immediately back into your old patterns? Hawkins had changed so little since you left, it felt too easy to slip back into the trap. Could you really go right back to hopelessly pining for him as you’d done so long?

“Come on,” Eddie urged, flashing those doe eyes he knew you couldn’t resist. “It’s one drink.”

“Okay, okay!” you laughed. “One drink.”

One drink turned out to be three. Starting with your first legal drink together at his old haunt while a different band of hopeful kids fumbled their way through clumsy Metallica covers.

“Please tell me we were never that young,” Eddie sighed, taking a swig of his beer.

“You’ve never been young,” you teased. “You came out of the womb a crotchety old man.”

A little later, you absconded to the corner booth and tucked yourselves away from the rowdiness of the growing crowd. You were flushed from the alcohol buzzing in your bloodstream and from how close Eddie was sitting. It felt just like old times, except it was nothing like old times.

Because this time, he was flirting with you. And not being subtle.

You thought maybe you were imagining it at first, but it only became more obvious the longer the night wore on. There was a whole new confidence and intention in the way he talked to you. He’d never been shy, never had any trouble drawing people in, but there was a fire lit behind his eyes tonight you’d never seen before. And you were the sole object of that blaze.

“So…still with Carl?” He finally asked, after bolstering himself to do so for the last three hours.

You took a long sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his over the rim of your glass. The liquor made you bold, the burn at the back of your throat adding smokiness to your voice.

“No-pe,” you said, popping your lips on the final syllable. Eddie smiled wolfishly and leaned in.

“Good,” he purred. “Cos that would have made it real awkward when I asked you out.”

He took you to dinner two days later. Rang the doorbell and smiled at you as he stood on your porch wearing a black button down under a darker black velvet vest. His black jeans were a new- looking pair of the same kind he’d always worn, sans the ragged holes over his knees.

Despite the thin material of your sundress and the balmy weather outside, you were sweating with nerves. The breeze played with your skirt as he walked you to his van and the coolness of it on your clammy skin made you shiver. But when Eddie suddenly darted ahead of you to open your door and turned around with his hand held up to help you inside, it made you melt. 

The gesture filled your body with warmth, chasing away any hint of a chill.

After dinner, he suggested you walk a block or so to a bar where Eddie liked to play pool. And as you did, his hand reached for yours and he threaded your fingers together. You stared down at it, stunned. How many times had you wished he would do that? How many times did you imagine the heat of his palm against yours mixing with the coolness of his chunky silver rings on his fingers? It had always seemed so impossible and he’d just done it.

Like it was nothing. Like he’d done it a thousand times before. Easy. Natural.

He held your hand all the way into the bar, only letting go of you to accept a tray of balls from the bartender when Eddie requested a table. With a couple of beers in hand, you followed him to his favorite one that was tucked away in a little alcove, practically private.

You set down the beers and watched as he racked the balls, gaze lingering on his long frame and chuckling at the way he shimmied his hips as he leaned over the table to break. “Eyes on me,” he told you, playful smile revealing his teeth.

It was a redundant request, because it was entirely impossible to look anywhere else.

Eddie had filled out quite a bit since high-school. He was never an athlete by any means, but evidently a regime of guitar playing and dice throwing was enough to maintain decent tone. You stared at him unabashed as he walked around the table, lining up his shot. His vest now flapped open and he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal the familiar smattering of bats under his elbow and the puppetmaster etched inside his forearm. It made you wonder how many more tattoos—new ones you’d not yet seen—were hiding under the rest of his clothes. He smirked at you, smug as he leaned over the table, thoroughly enjoying the way your eyes followed him.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” he drawled before sinking a bank shot.

You rolled your eyes, trying to fein being unimpressed. “Trying to distract me, Munson?” you asked, chalking the tip of your cue in a much more sensual manner than necessary, letting your fingers lazily stroke the stick as Eddie watched transfixed. He huffed a laugh at the display.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Evidently, both of you were equally distracted. Most of your games lagged for a mutual inability to sink more than one shot in a row as the other did their best to pull focus. It was far easier for you, having only to lean forward slightly across the table from him to reveal a healthy dose of your cleavage. That, coupled with a coy smile and batting eyelashes, spelled disaster for Eddie. Everytime you did it, he’d scratch his shot and chuckle dryly at his own hubris.

He took a different approach, choosing instead to stand as close to you as he could as you lined up your shots. His musk and cologne filled your nose, a tantalizing woodsy smell that made your head spin as you struggled to keep your eyes on the ball. He rested his hip against the table, handcuff belt buckle glinting as it reflected the light from the lamp hanging overhead.

You could practically hear the childish taunt of not touching you, not touching you.

“Just take your shot, baby,” he cooed, low and husky. The sound made your heart hammer.

A couple hours of teasing and toying later, both of you were ready to explode. Your glasses sat empty on the nearby table, neither of you terribly interested in a refill. And as Eddie sunk the eight ball again, his eyes flashed to the tray for the balls rather than going to re-rack them.

“I guess I should get you home?” he asked.

A little sullen at the idea, you nodded and returned your cues to a rack on the wall while Eddie brought the balls back to the bartender and settled the tab. Only when you were walking back to the table to get your purse and passed a pair of men who reeked of tobacco did something occur to you: Eddie hadn’t taken a smoke break once.

“Did you quit?” you asked, staring at him with wide eyes. He smiled as he drew nearer to you, relishing the way your chest heaved as you reacted to his closeness.

“Took a couple years, but yeah,” he said. “Sometimes I still need a little help, though.”

He tugged his shirttail out from the waistband of his jeans, causing his belt and the chain on his wallet to jingle slightly as he lifted his shirt to flash a strip of his stomach. You’re so distracted by the action and the cut of his v-muscle it takes a few seconds to register the beige nicotine patch stuck on his hip. You stared at him and then back at it, fingers itching to reach out and touch.

He leaned in, his face the closest it had been to yours all night, his voice hushed so only you could hear. “For when I’m really nervous,” he said.

Streetlights and stars blurred as you stepped out of the bar and he whirled you into the alley. The rough brick scraped your back and snagged on your dress as you were flattened against it and you gazed up at Eddie, string lights overhead shining brightly in your eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly. “Are you ready for this to start?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight his eyes trained on your face. Your hands settled lightly on his waist and you gave an impatient tug as you nodded. It was all the invitation he needed. 

His mouth met yours like the sun met the horizon. The softest kiss you’d ever had deepened gradually until you were grasping at him, fisting his shirt in your fingers. Your lips felt molded together, pliant to the other’s movements, but still insistent as they chased one another.

Control shifted subtly between you, taking turns drawing the other in and pulling back. More teasing, more toying. Yet you never denied each other long, unable to stay apart.

God, this was it. This was what it was always supposed to feel like.

It could have been hours you stood out there kissing and laughing, but you’d never have known. The only thing that alerted you to the passing of time was when the lights inside the bar shut off and the employees filed out for their final smoke break before heading home.

Giggling like terrible criminals begging to be caught, you and Eddie hugged the shadows and made your way back to his van. You rode home with your panties soaked, subtly shifting in your seat, trying not to think about the arousal pooled between your thighs. And at home, back in your room, you were so tempted to dip your fingers into the slickness as you thought about Eddie’s breath on your lips; how the ends of his curls tickled your sternum when he leaned into you; the way his scent lingered on your skin after being pressed between his body and that wall. 

But you didn’t dare risk the disappointment that would follow when your pleasure receded like waves being drawn into a riptide; when you backed down from the edge of that cliff, feeling even emptier after not reaching that peak. Again. No, you couldn’t spoil this night with all that.

You saw him more throughout the week. He started popping into your father’s store almost as soon as it opened, offering you coffee and a kiss. And he spent the first hour of the morning with you at the front counter, propped up on his elbow with his chin resting on the heel of his hand.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked, swatting him with a folded up newspaper after you finished doing the jumble together.

He just shrugged with all the casual ease of somebody whose own shop didn’t open until 11. Or noon if he was hungover. “What could be better than hanging out with my favorite girl?”

Favorite girl. The words lived in your brain all day. It made you positively giddy every time you thought about it, even causing you to accidentally enter a customer’s 15% discount as 51% and not even bother correcting it. The loss on a value pack of paint brushes and trays seemed a paltry fee for the smile that spread across old Mrs. Gershwin’s face when she saw her total.

Eddie started calling every night at 9:30, practically on the dot, and it didn’t take long for you to get in the habit of settling into your bed around that time so you could pick up the receiver in your room before the ringing disturbed your dad dozing in his recliner downstairs. 

“So when do I get to take you out again?” he asked, clearly not oblivious to how it made you melt on the other end of the line. 

You blushed your way through making arrangements for an early movie Saturday followed by dinner. Then, before beginning the long process of saying your goodnights, you paused to ask him the thing you’d been wondering since that night at the Hideout.

“Eddie…are we really doing this?” you asked, torn between giddiness and trepidation.

“I certainly am,” he hummed into the receiver.

He talked the whole way through the movie and still had more to say at dinner afterward. 

It didn’t bother you, though. You loved listening to him talk. Your ears had gone so long without his rambling, it was more like music than words. His feet toyed with yours under the table and after you ordered dessert, he excused himself to use the bathroom only to slide into your side of the booth when he came back. You giggled over tiramisu and cheesecake, your sides pressed together from shoulder to ankle. Later, the tastes of your desserts would mix in your mouths as he kissed you deeply in his car dropping you off.

Everything about it felt so alive. So ripe with the promise of what this could turn into, what it had already become. In two dates with Eddie, you felt more connection than you had in two years of dating Carl. Not that it was fair comparing them. Nothing and no one could ever compare to this.

It was a Wednesday when he made a new proposition. You had already crawled into bed and swathed yourself in blankets to wait for his call. And after the few customary minutes of talking about your respective days, he brought up his idea for Friday night.

“Would you want to come over here for dinner?” he asked.

“You…you mean like your place?”

“I was thinking mine, but if your heart is set on a neighbor’s, I’m sure breaking in wouldn’t be too difficult.” He’s smirking so hard you swear you can hear it over the phone. 

“I guess yours will do,” you chuckled. “Does this mean I’ll get to see The Hair in person?”

Eddie was living with Steve Harrington, which had taken a commanding lead for being the most confusing thing you’d learned since returning home. Apparently they’d been brought together by a shared friendship with Dustin Henderson, one of the kids from Hellfire Eddie had taken under his batwing during his third and final senior year. Dustin had spent months insisting both boys would get along if they only gave the other a chance until his badgering paid off.

Now, the pair shared a tiny apartment downtown, walking distance from Eddie’s shop and only a short drive to Family Video where Steve was now the manager. And Dustin evidently couldn’t go five minutes without congratulating himself for bringing the two of them together. Eddie liked to joke that they were now co-parenting the little shithead (affectionate).

“Actually, Steve is out of town this weekend,” Eddie said, struggling to contain his excitement and keep his cool. “So, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Breathe, breathe, breathe. “Oh, yeah?” you said, voice spiking just an octave too high.

“Yep. And, um…you could stay over if you wanted? If that sounds good to you?”

Stay over. You knew what that meant. There was something gut wrenchingly endearing about the way he asked—the innocent peal of his voice. But there was no doubt in your mind what he was getting at. This wasn’t going to be like crashing on his couch after a movie night or pouring yourself into his bed after a Corroded Coffin show that lasted to the wee hours.

This would be something new. Something completely different.

“That sounds great,” you said, finally.

And it did sound great. It just also sounded a little terrifying.

Admittedly, you hadn’t been on many dates in your life. But television and film had successfully indoctrinated you with knowledge of that classic Third Date milestone. And it made sense. He wasn’t some stranger. You’d known each other for so long, it stood to reason things would continue to accelerate between you. And was that such a bad thing? 

This was Eddie, after all. He was your best friend. He was your other half. You weren’t sure if  you even believed in soul mates, so to speak, but if they did exist you couldn’t imagine anyone besides him in that role. He had stoked life into the coals within you that you were certain had burnt into a lump of ash. You never felt with anyone the way you felt with him. 

So if you were gonna do this, you were gonna do it right.

You went shopping, fighting off anxious nausea as you perused the racks of lingerie in the far corner of a little boutique. Averting your eyes from the more salacious options, you settled on a matching set of midnight blue embroidered with silver thread to look like stars. It was made of thin mesh that gave the illusion of coverage, but revealed plenty through the sheer netting.

It also looked a little like something a wizard might wear. And for obvious reasons, you had a feeling Eddie might like that. 

Securing your purchase you thought might make you feel more prepared, but it only caused your thoughts to unravel further. This was the first time Eddie would be seeing your underwear and it wasn’t even your own. At least it didn’t yet feel like your own the way your drawer full of less suggestive garments did. What if he thought you looked ridiculous? What if he laughed or got turned off because your thighs were too big or the pudge of your stomach grossed him out? Worse yet, what if you failed to live up to the implications? What if he saw it and assumed you knew what you were doing, only to be woefully disappointed by your skills? Or lack thereof?

It was impossible to reconcile the two wolves fighting for dominance in your mind. On the one hand, it was wildly exciting: the thought of finally getting to be with him and touch him and have him touch you back. At the same time, though, you were overwhelmed at the prospect. What if it changed things between you? You’d always thought you wanted more than friendship with him, but what if in that pursuit you lost the person you treasured more than anything in the world?

And then of course there were the normal fears. 

After so much unfulfilling sex, you couldn’t help but be fearful your body would betray you as it always had. It was hard not to pin all your hopes on this and you didn’t want to add any more pressure to this night than you already felt. But even if you backed off that peak and failed to reach the summit, surely the ascent would feel just as nice as long as it was with him. 

Right?

This was what you tried to tell yourself as you turned one last time in front of your mirror. 

Literally everything about this night was making you uncomfortable and it hadn’t even begun yet. The lingerie that felt fine when you bought it was tight and itchy on your skin, and it felt glaringly obvious you were wearing it under your clothes—like a diaper or a straightjacket.

You’d shaved, even though it made you feel like a creepy bald Barbie, and even though you found the concept kind of disturbing. Whose brilliant idea was it anyway that to be sexy you had to look like a child between your legs? And you always wound up completely bare because you could never get it even and kept having to take more from each side until nothing was left.

Still, you did it. Because that was what everyone did, right? That’s what he would expect?

Shaking your head, trying to fling away all your thoughts, you busy yourself packing your small overnight bag. It was the same one you must have brought over to Eddie’s a hundred times over, but for the first time you found yourself doubting it. Would he think you were high maintenance for wanting your own toothbrush and a change of clothes? For bringing something comfortable to sleep in? Would he think you were a weirdo for not just sleeping naked? God, what if he saw it and figured you’d been sleeping with so many guys, you just kept it packed all the time?

Panic creeps up the back of your neck. It burns hot on your cheeks and makes your heart pound in your temples until you’re so dizzy you have to lean against the door with your head bent.

Breathe, you think. Breathe, breathe, breathe. 

Frustratingly slowly, the thrumming in your chest subsides. You managed to bring yourself down off the ledge and find your center—Eddie.

Eddie would make everything alright. 

He always did.

Part Two

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #tw: anorgasmia

[y0ur-loca1-lyr3]

A/N; I have been obsessed with husk lately so here we are lol

Husk falling in love/dating headcanons

Falling in love

Husk at first can’t really tell what the fuck he’s feeling

As much as he can read other people like a book, he can’t read himself whatsoever

So it’s needless to say there’s a lot of thoughts going through his head while he’s cleaning the glasses at the bar

Self reflection, self reflection, self reflection

Oh, and of course Alastor teasing Husk about it for sure

Honestly Alastor’s teasing nearly blew his cover

“Say, good fellow, weren’t you just yesterday talking about them?” Alastor said with a Cheshire smile, Husk stopping in his tracks and staring at Alastor with a glare. “Al. Don’t.” Husk warned, despite the fact he couldn’t do much. All the while you were staring confusedly at the two of them.

Despite all that he’s pretty perceptive, so he’d be able to gauge whether or not he’s safe to confess his feelings

He spends days trying to figure out the best way to confess

Should he give you flowers? Should he do something grand? Maybe confess at some restaurant?

Honestly he has no idea how to go about this

As he would say, he’s not all for that ‘touchy-feely bullshit’ he very much so is

When he does confess his feelings, he’s straightforward, or at least, tries to be

He doesn’t stutter over his words per say, but he does have a hard time figuring out how to word things

“I was wondering do you maybe, sorta wanna… go out for a drink or somethin’? Not that it has to be an alcoholic drink, we could go to a restaurant if you’re not too fond of drinkin’, and we don’t necessarily have to do a restaurant either, just-“ he sighs, “do you wanna go out with me or not?”

When you say yes, he’s baffled at first

He tries to hide his smile, but fails, and now he’s got a big goofy grin on his face the rest of his shift

Dating

Not much for PDA, but behind closed doors he’s very cuddly

Will pout if you guys can’t cuddle one night

When he does pout like that he’s all passive aggressive

When in public, he doesn’t do too much beyond holding hands

When watching movies, he’ll let you lean against him, and he’ll place his arm around you

He’s memorized your favorite cocktail

If he doesn’t have the stuff to make it, he’ll ask Charlie if they can get the stuff for it the next time they have to restock the bar

He’s not a big talker, but he’ll listen to you while he does his work, giving his input every once and a while

Compliment him and he’ll melt instantly

He can’t take a compliment for shit

Will deny any compliments at all times

Though maybe a kiss or two could convince him otherwise

He purrs

He most definitely purrs

Most of the time when you two are cuddling and he’s fast asleep

Mention it and he’ll deny it with a passion, swearing up and down that he doesn’t purr

Yes, he will come if you go ‘pspspspsps’

He will be annoyed after the fact though

Overall, sure he’s got a harsh exterior, but he’s a very soft and cuddly person to be with <3

#husk x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk hazbin hotel #husk headcanons #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husker #husker x reader #husker x you #x reader headcanons #headcanons #dating headcanons #dating #falling in love #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #my hcs #romance #romantic #hcs #idk how to tag this #idk man #idkkkk #idfk #idfk man #idfk what to tag this #idfk how to tag this #idfk anymore

[blingblong55]

Sex headcanons -COD Men/women

GN!, 18+, smut, MDNI,

A/N: This is how I personally see all of these characters. I know that from my fics I depict them differently but this is how I truly see them.

Price: Groans and moans are low and he tries to keep them minimal unless he is about to cum and when he does they are loud and at times soft (mainly when he cums). He for sure, one time groaned very loudly because he was so close to cumming and he loved the sight he was getting from you. If you are way younger than him, he is a little bit of a perv and likes to play around with the idea that he is much older than you.

Gaz: moans softly at times, I'd say he whimpers but it is very rare, like really rare. He does groan but I see him as a talker during sex so his groans aren't as much as the price would be. He isn't too rough but can be at times. He never lets you give him hickeys and he'll also never give, mainly because he feels like the next day when he sees them he'll think he hurt you during sex. As a soldier, he sees bruises as a form of pain or gain, so leaving hickeys is not what he wants to do.

Soap: I like to believe he is like this nasty freak during sex, so he moans loudly and makes sure you do too. He kisses you and when he cums he gets very sensitive (but it's very rare). I say he is a sweet lover yet he likes to do nasty things in bed. He is a talker during sex, he makes jokes to lighten the mood from such a 'serious' activity.

Ghost: He moans too much at times, he likes to keep them quiet and minimal unless you two are in the comfort of your home, then he makes sure to be loud. I think because of his past (comic-wise) he is actually very soft when it comes to sex, he always asks for permission and never tries to overstep any boundaries.

Alejandro: I feel like he moans but tries to shut himself up, bites his lip and continues thrusting into you. He gives me sweet, when he wants to be vibes. (This next part is based on personal experience and I'm not saying it's all Mexican men) I feel like he is a little bit sexist, I mean most of these cod men probably are, yes they've worked with fierce women but I feel like they just have to be a little sexist, It's just a vibe he gives me yk?

Rudy: I know, he has this sweet and gentle look to him but he groans and moans loudly. He is like Soap, sweet yet likes to do nasty stuff during sex. I feel like he has some dark kinks that he keeps to himself. Like Ale, he is a little sexist, not much like his friend but just a little.

Krueger: I really do believe he moans very loud, he never whimpers but rather groans and gives you puppy eyes if you are ever the dom for the night. He has kinks and he likes them to be known. He is very confident with his body,(I think I've seen him wear shirts very few times, he is literally always displaying his upper body).

Hesh: Moans and groans too much, you think he is overreacting but he really isn't. He doesn't like to be rough with you, feels like he could hurt you at any given moment so he prefers to just take things slow.

Valeria: She moans very loudly. She rarely whimpers because it makes her feel like she is under someone else's power and that's a feeling she dislikes. She can be very soft and sweet with you(very cuddly when alone), but with anyone else, she is this boss lady in every respect.

Alex: He groans too much for your own good, they are so low and deep it really turns you on. He like a few other men on this list is a sweet lover, kisses all over your body and makes sure to praise you, he never is rough. You, to him, are a delicate thing.

Keegan<3: He groans every now and then during sex but his moans are the thing that tells you, you are doing just great. I see him as a passionate lover, he likes to get things heated too quickly but makes sure to slow things down a bit. He is rough but that is rare and if he feels like he needs to be rough, he will let you know.

Mace: Like Price, his moans are low and deep. He isn't rough but rather very soft. His figure and description perceive him as a rough soldier, but I feel like he is such a gentle giant behind closed doors.

Logan: Groans a lot. I feel like he is a bit of a player or like soap he makes jokes during sex. He can't be serious during sex and just needs to make things less serious. I feel like when you lean into him as you ride him, he moans into your shoulder or chest.

Velikan: He moans and at times whimpers. He is never rough with you, he hates the idea of rough sex, makes him feel like he is hurting you and what if he can't stop it? yeah, it's not for him. He kisses and praises you so much during sex it has become the norm.

Farah: She moans softly, never too loud. She likes to ride and be top but if she is in the mood, she will be bottom. She likes to be top because, like Valeria, she wants to feel like she is still dominant in anything she does. And like Valeria, she is soft and very cuddly, but that's only around you, she hates the idea of others seeing that side of her.

König: moans and groans, they are low and deep. I feel like when it comes to his groans, he is like Price. He doesn't whimper and I'm sorry he is no shy, anxiety-eating little boy, who cries when people look at him or yell at him (I literally call him my little princess lol).

Nikto: Moans a lot, he does whimper but that is only when he has grown too sensitive(extremely rare). I think is canon that he is very insecure about the scars on his face, that's why he always wears the mask. So let's say that in a 6-year relationship, the first 2 years there is no intimacy, the others are spent having sex in the dark, or a few times where you are blindfolded and he takes his mask off. This man needs a lot of reassurance, for sure.

Graves: He moans most of the time. They are soft and loud but they all have a reason to be heard for sure. I feel like he is also a little sexist and I'm not entirely sure but I think I saw somewhere that his character could be a little racist. Anyway, he is very gentle and soft with you (they say men who are dominant in their work fields are usually not so dominant in their personal lives).

Roach: I feel like he is very shy when it comes to his moans and groans. He is so gentle with you, kisses you all over and always makes sure to let you know you can say no, his priority is always you. He has tried to be rough but that just isn't him (sex-wise ofc).

A/N: Keep in mind that all these soldiers are literal killing machines and war criminals and this is my personal view on them.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #cod 141 #mwii #ghost cod #velikan #task force 141 #mw2 141 #141 x reader #141 #gaz cod #cod soap #price cod #hesh walker #logan walker #keegan russ #valeria garza cod #farah cod #mace cod #cod nikto #alejandro vargas #rodolfo mw2 #gary roach sanderson #philip graves #alex keller #cod smut #cod women #cod men #cod krueger

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Al-Haitham Headcanons 01

All SFW Here Folks! I think? There's like one bit that's kinda suggestive. If you - no you don't need to squint. It's not vulgar though. Tumblr MasterList

I think his love language is acts of service.

Al-Haitham reads a lot, if he finds something that would be useful to you, he'd likely make note of it with sources, especially if you were going to use it in a paper.

Oh you got into an argument? Someone said something you disagree with? You struggled to support your point? He found some piece of information that supports your argument? Or maybe he found something that negates the other person's? He'll bring it to you.

Perhaps you had asked a random question: you were curious or wondering about something? If he comes across useful information again, he'll bring it to you, and explain it if you need him to.

Maybe you're stressed or struggling or your body hurts in some way? He's doing research and bringing it to you.

You've got a big daunting task? He's broken it down for you, maybe even helped you delegate and even eliminate some things too

Drapes his cape over you when you're napping and cold.

Drapes his cape over you when you're cold in general.

Someone is trying to belittle you? Let it be known that Al-Haitham has no problem silencing them, and in a truly intellectual manner.

Yeah no, he has no tolerance or anyone talking trash about his beloved.

Quality Time is another love language

As we all know: Al-Haitham dislikes having a large social circle. So if he is choosing to spend time with you, outside of work (or anything else that's necessary) nonetheless, he definitely values you.

For whatever reason I feel like he's more cuddly and probably goes for hugs more?

(For anyone reading Rationality of Emotion: when you see this appear again in that fic...well I mean I was always gonna use it there...)

I imagine his physical affections are more him holding you in some way, and mostly in private, and I mean just you and him private. Initially, when Kaveh was practically watching him like a hawk to see if he could display affection, Al-Haitham is deliberately avoiding any action that Kaveh was looking for.

That being said, if you're both reading on the sofa/couch looking thing in his house, he really enjoys kinda having you nestled into him? So you've got your back against the arm rest (you have it cushioned don't worry) with your head resting on his chest and your legs across his lap. Each of you just reading and enjoying the silence.

He usually isn't wearing his sound proof earpieces when you guys are doing this.

I can also imagine him going from mostly hugging due to requests to initiating hugs himself.

Yes he has hugged you from behind before, it was a hell of a day, he's kinda overstimulated, he's got his face in your neck, and is just leaning on you a bit. Please let him rest there for a bit, even if he's kinda heavy.

As for when he does kiss you though

I think Haitham's kisses are like cute little pecks on your temples or your head, or the juncture of your neck and shoulder. I don't think they're very common either.

If it's anywhere else he's probably got ulterior motives

But that's okay because he's your husband

(yes even when it's on your pulse)

(especially when it's on your pulse)

While he is mostly private, he will absolutely state his claim if necessary

I don't think Al-Haitham is a very jealous guy

he trusts you, he understands that for the most part you know how to handle yourself (sometimes you need help when hilichurls are involved)

however he doesn't exactly trust strangers

so if someone wants to try their luck, and can't take a hint, he will absolutely be by your side, with a hand on your lower back as he excuses the two of you and guides you along

That hand of his stays there the whole way home.

if you aren't picking up on the fact that this person is trying to hit on you: I think he'd only watch for a little bit, curious if you're going to pick up on it, before appearing to help you exit (especially if you look tired)

#alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfics

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi! Can you please do Scarabia and Octavinelle boys with a short male bear reader that is cuddly but at the same time brute and accidentally hurts them sometimes giving them light scratch or bite marks? (bonus if sometimes he jumps on Floyd's back and play fight with him)

I'll do some 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Sun Bear Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Smaller than most bears your stature often makes you the butt of the joke. And while there aren’t many other half-bear students. The species you’re derived from is known for your aggression. Usually going out of your way to start a fight or a friendly tackle. Lucky for you, the ones obsessed with you don’t mind it at all:

Jade Leech

“Ah, I thought I felt myself bleeding. Good to know it was a mere Teddy Bear.”

“GRRRRRRAAGGGHHH!!”

He loves teasing you 

So willing to throw away his decorum and manners to plant deep bites

Just like you do with him

Teasing your height and literally poking the sleeping bear

His mating rituals are already a little aggressive being from the deep 

Showing your willingness to endure minor bites, tackles, and scratches is his prerogative 

Now you just have to be willing to survive his ‘mere’ teasing

Like blackmail, electrocution, binding, biting extensively

Also talking with any rivals is extremely off-limits

Should that be broken he’s going to take drastic measures

Kalim Al Asim

“Ouch haha you bit me!”

“I did!”

“Your teeth are really sharp!”

“Yeah!”

“What else can they pierce through?”

Definitely have the potential to corrupt Kalim because of your lack of boundaries

There’s no way Jamil’s going to be able  handle you and Kalim

And Kalim can’t stop you when you look so happy terrorizing those in his dorm

He just loves to see you happy

He probably won’t be inclined to hurt others because usually you like to have all the fun yourself

But if it’s to show his support for you he’s all for it

Jamil Viper

“How’d I know you’d be in here?”

“What!? You gotta problem with me being here emo-cut?”

“....I thought I told you the next time you felt a craving for some honey to let me know?”

“You did. I just chose to not listen to you, nosy beekeeper!”

He isn’t a fan of your more aggressive tendencies

Likening you to just a wild bear he has to tame

It’s your independence and confidence to do what you want that has him falling for you

Even better despite your aggression and sometimes random outbursts you’re quite popular with the more athletic crowd

He comes to hate that fact

Kind of hoping to be as free as you are

And in some twisted way decides you need to be reigned in

Specially by him

Maybe when you’re madly in love with him you can roam free again

Maybe you both can

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere jamil viper #yandere jamil x reader #yandere kalim x reader #yandere kalim al asim #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade #yandere kalim #yandere jamil

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Funny Ducks

Alan Moore: [appearing in a clap of thunder] Poe: the arch magus! King: the arch magus! Moore: i have a story to tell Moore: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the sinister ducks

Moore: it's a song about ducks Moore: but it's not simply a song Moore: it is also a warning Moore: be afraid, foolish mortals, for the sinister ducks are coming Moore: watch the skies!

Alan Moore: Everyone thinks they’re such sweet little things! Moore: Soft downy feathers and nice little wings. Moore: But there’s a poison I’d like to administer Moore: You think they’re cuddly, but I think they’re sinister! Moore: Ducks! Ducks! Quack-quack! Quack-quack!

Moore: Ducks! Ducks! Quack-quack! Quack-quack! King: Koontz: Lovecraft: Poe: Barker: so uh Barker: what exactly are you trying to accomplish here

Barker: what the hell was that Poe: clive Poe: if the arch magus wants to sing a funny song about ducks Poe: you just let the arch magus sing a funny song about ducks Koontz: i liked it Poe: yes dean Koontz: i liked the part with the quacking! Poe: yes dean

Barker: are we supposed to be scared of ducks? Scott Baker: ducks?!? ducks?! Baker: [panicking] did someone say ducks?!? Poe: calm down scott Poe: there aren't any ducks Baker: [nervously] are you sure?? Baker: cuz ducks can be Baker: quite sinister!

Barker: what the hell was that about Moore: it's a song about ducks Moore: foolish mortals, you fail to grasp the unearthly power of this piece Moore: i'm thinking of sending it to dr demento Moore: i think it could even make the funny five

King: alan would you consider jamming with the rock bottom remainders Moore: foolish mortals, the arch magus is no mere singer of trifles! Moore: the auric emanations of this song sigil contain a mighty power Moore: equal or greater to that of a spike jones or even a stan freberg!

Moore: can you not feel the psychic vibrations of the great weave echoing in its departed notes? Moore: [lightning crackling from his fingers] truly i am the most powerful song sigil warlock of all! King: King: so King: is that a no on a rock bottom remainder jam session?

Moore: rock bottom remainders? Moore: impudent fool! the arch magus does not deign to perform for the pleasure of mere gut pluckers! Moore: this power… requires a proper display… Moore: just wait til i headline at FuMPFest!!!

Moore: this song sigil is as powerful as any cast by the mages of old Moore: not even the great warlock weird al yankovic could cast a spell of such magnitude! King: whoa whoa whoa alan careful there King: don't say something you can't take back

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #hp lovecraft #alan moore #scott baker

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

Saw your requests are open and I am currently SPAMMING amazing Hazbin Hotel writers with requests. I just neeeeeeeeeed soft Alastor and silly Lucifer in my life.

Soooo if you are up for it I would loooooove an X f!reader where she is starved for physical affection but afraid to even brush hands with someone because they didn't consent to her hand accidentally brushing against theirs for the split second and the feather light pressure that is just so happened to have in the moment. So much so that she'd flinch away as if the contact burned her.

Yet they observe her being really affectionate with touchy people like Charlie who hugs people all the time or Angel who I think would also be very cuddly, appreciating the gentle love in a good friendship.

So now, Alastor can't have being excluded. Although he enjoys the fear he seems to trigger in her, he also feels left out and hurt in his pride why reader can't stand being in close proximity to him.

Lucifer would feel conflicted and confused, hurt even that reader only seems to tolerate whatever contact he iniciates and feels like he is forcing himself on her like a monster. He even goes as far as to be jealous of Angel and Charlie who reader seems to love to get hugs and cuddles from.

I just need a little hurt and plenty of fluff

If you don't wanna write that I completely understand! Do with it what you feel like!

Anyways thank you sosososososo much <3

Have a gread day!

okay so first, don’t think you can just slide in “requesting amazing hazbin writers” and not have me so giddy and happy at the compliment. like there are some AMAZING writers for Hazbin so this compliment is crazy to me. thank you. 😭😭🖤🖤

secondly… i went a little hard on this request and essentially have two full ficlets/one shots. one for al and one for luce.

so, im just finishing them up currently and then scheduling them out tomorrow in the afternoon. they’ll be two separate posts and I will of course be giving credit to you anon for the request. So keep your eye out for these fics tomorrow.

if i remember tomorrow i’ll try and link to them on this ask too. 👀

Note : I remembered…. 🥳

Alastor: https://www.tumblr.com/sciencebecameouraddiction/744138137020809216/title-just-a-hug-author

Lucifer: https://www.tumblr.com/sciencebecameouraddiction/744138137216892928/title-just-a-touch-author

i always love delivering soft and silly alastor and lucifer content so thank you for your request and i hope i do it justice! 🙏🙏🙏

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel lucifer

[enden-k]

in response to this

kaveh if he breaks smth by accident is just this chibi like, all of it:

(just with some additional tears in his eyes if it rlly was smth bad AKJBKJ baby)

also agree. kaveh is an architect, an artist, someone who creates so seeing himself being like an evil (or corrupted as the anon said) version to take smth away, erasing existence...........ngl its interesting concept but he would be devastated fr 😭 using kaveh of all ppl for this aughh

unless u wanna think of it more comical and less angsty, and have him go like nah this thing ugly im just gonna unmake you *deletes offending monument* akhsjcbkj but he wouldnt simply go through this in someone elses world, especially if it manipulates/influences their game in a bad way

but!! imagine if kaveh had this skill fr (not only bursting dendro cores but simply making objects vanish after changing their traits), he would simply delete all the ugly furniture in haithams house that truly insults his eyes AKJSBCKJ can you imagine it go like:

"well, al haitham, i got rid of your entire bedroom because it was just too ugly. thank me later." ....suddenly, later in the evening, kaveh finds himself squished in his own bed between haitham and the wall - his own bed that is way too narrow for two grown men, especially one of haithams size and mass. all because haitham is like "considering this is my house, your bedroom is also mine so i will simply take it until you put every single piece of furniture back to where it belonged."

(this turned into a full, usual youn ramble lol rest is UTC)

kaveh is too proud and refuses to simply give up on his bed to sleep on the divan so he stubbornly stays, which comes back at him to bite his ass when hes in bed and gets a faceful of haithams bare chest and when he turns to face the wall hes too aware of the scribes warm body against his back - its like his dreams came true a nightmare

still too proud to admit defeat and let haitham have his bed, kaveh continues sharing his bed even though he barely gets any sleep with haitham right there. he also starts actually crafting haithams furniture by himself, at first all annoyed with him and simply wanting to finish this as fast as he can no matter how ugly, so he can have his own room for himself again before smth stupid happens (like kaveh giving in and kissing him or confessing)

but as soon as he learns from first hand that haitham is quite the cuddler in his sleep (the first time a sleeping haithams arms wrapped around his waist to pull him into him got him so flustered he didnt sleep at all that night), them getting closer everytime theyre sleeping (the amount of times theyre spooning or lying on top of each other all cuddled up is increasing)............haitham growing more soft now that they spend their nights together, having more of kaveh................his work turns from simply trying to replace what he made disappear to more thoughtful, loving pieces

a bed that resembles haithams older one, but big enough for two people to comfortably sleep in there (not that he designed it with himself in mind, its just....well.....a big bed is always nice and haitham takes up quite a lot of place right? totally not designed for both of them) with curtains in this soothing teal shade he knows haitham is fond of and nice patterns to block out the sun falling through the stained windows if he wants to sleep in; a closet with pretty, geometrical carvings matching his bed that haitham probably doesnt even care about; a nightstand with even a holder for his headset to place on, etc etc

its haithams bedroom but with small changes and improvements regarding design and comfort that kaveh did just for haitham. and he notices. of course he does

however, they got so used and comfortable to this whole (awkward at first) sleeping situation (bc it wasnt just kaveh loving to fall asleep in a sleeping, cuddly haithams arms, it was also haitham loving to wake up to the sight of a sleeping kaveh too) that every now and then kaveh slips into haithams (way too comfortable) bed ("well, i designed it so technically its also my bed") and even though its way bigger than kavehs bed, they somehow still seek each other out and find their way to cuddle up to each other

it doesnt take long until its not just their bodies seeking each other out but also their lips

not longer until the first utters a confession against the others skin, asking him to stay as their fingers intertwine and more kisses are exchanged

and not even longer for them to turn haithams bedroom, all designed and crafted by kaveh with love and care, into their bedroom

tl;dr: not only are they roommates, theres also only one bed (no clickbait)

#rambles #kavetham

[gatorbites-imagines]

Alejandro and Rudy (poly preferably) with a tall male s/o who’s basically just a giant cat?

Alejandro Vargas x Rudolfo “Rudy” Parra x male reader

Headcanons

Alejandro and Rudy were probably dating before you came along, but the moment they met you they felt some type of connection to you. You were a little intimidating in the beginning because you towered over the both of them, but the three of you grew closer over time.

When you three started dating you kept your cuddliness to yourself, not wanting to scare either of the men away with how much you just loved to cuddle, but on your own terms. Sometimes you wanted to be touched and loved, and other times you just wanted to be left alone.

When you grew comfortable to be open about it around Alejandro and Rudy, Ale is the first to call you a cat as a joke. It ends up sticking and they end up calling you all types of nicknames based on cats.

They’ll catch you sleeping in a sunny spot by the window, or stretched up as far as you can on the bed even though your legs dangle off the edge. They both have multiple pictures of you and your catlike behaviour.

Alejandro most likely has you listed under some cat-based nickname or has cat emojis after your name. Rudy is a little more subtle, putting maybe a ball of yarn or just pawprints.

They like that you are taller than them since you can just crape yourself on top of them when you cuddle or when they’ve been working for too long. You just come up and lean against their back and rub your face into their shoulder, mumbling about them needing to take a break.

They swear they’ve caught you purring before when they run their fingers through your hair or when they’re kissing on your neck.

You also have incredible sight so you see pretty well in the dark, so you’ve scared the daylights out of them more than once when they’ve gotten up to get a glass of water and catch you standing there in the dark.

Both use your height to make you reach stuff they can’t get themselves. Rudy also likes that he can lean against you and that he has to tilt his head back very far to see your face. It can get quite annoying when he wants to kiss, but then he just has to pull you down by your shirt.

Same with Alejandro, though he’s not as cute about it as Rudy and just tugs on your shirt to get you to lean down so he can kiss you.

If you’re the type to tease them by not leaning down, Alejandro most likely also bites at your neck or chin and leaves hickeys where everyone can see. If you grumble about it he will just say he couldn’t reach a good spot since you wouldn’t lean down.

They both love you and your height and your cat like behavior. They both like cuddling as much as anyone else, and since there’s three of you, there’s always some there to cuddle up to or spend time with if someone is busy.

#male reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #cod #call of duty #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x male reader #alejandro vargas imagine #alejandro vargas headcanon #rodolfo rudy parra imagine #rodolfo rudy parra headcanon #rodolfo rudy parra x male reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #cod imagine #cod headcanon #cod x male reader #cod x reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #call of duty modern warfare #mw2 imagine #mw2 headcanon #mw2 x male reader #mw2 x reader

[natelia-aldelliz]

Drunk 141 & friends headcanons:

Price : complains a lot : "Nik is way too romantic, can you believe I'm gonna have to learn how to waltz to surprise him for our anniversary? How fucked up is that?" or "These two assholes are so annoying, like they think I'm blind or something, do they know how much effort it takes to not tell them to get their heads out of their arses?" or "Did you know Nik forced me to confess when we were young? He kept looking at me with his eyes, so I told him to stop or I'll kiss him and he blushed so I did. Asshole. … I'm gonna ask him to marry me."

Laswell : falls asleep where she is. Price can keep talking to her for hours, doesn't actually care if she listens or not. Gushes about her wife when she's awake.

Ghost : likes to drink but rarely gets drunk, doesn't like the loss of control. When he does, he gets anxious and cuddly but won't ask for it, will just stare at Soap in silence (Roach moves too much, too overwhelming). Is happy even if just Soap's or Roach's thigh is touching his own, but prefers when Soap is using him as a pillow or backrest, or Roach is climbing on him. Tears up when Price pats him on the head.

Roach : takes any bet anyone is telling him, climbs on any surface available just to see if he can. They once found him asleep on top of a pub's cabinet.

Gaz : rambles and forgets how to talk. "Yeah, I was head down in uh that green shit, y'know, uuuh grass! And there were… they… fuck. Whazzit called… Lullabies. No. Butterflies? Mmmno. Like little choppers, y'knoooow… I don't like choppers. They're mean to me."

Soap : forgets what 'inside voice' means, aggressively whispers for thirty seconds when people tell him to be quieter before going back to shouting instead of talking, giggles at everything, his accent in English gets thicker and he'll also just start speaking Scots.

Rodolfo : looks at Alejandro with hearts in his eyes, never stops smiling. Ale could be telling the dumbest story ever, he'll still look absolutely enamoured. (doesn't change much from sober lol)

Alejandro : tells all his friends he loves them, gets very emotional in Spanish, randomly starts to sing songs going through his head.

Nik : needs a lot more than what they generally have to get drunk, will get tipsy at best, keeps an eye on all of them and pretends to not remember what Price says, especially when it's supposed to be a surprise.

Alex : either laughs about absolutely nothing, starts crying in the middle of a sentence, or stares unblinkingly at the wall, nothing else. Might say afterwards that it reminded him of frat parties when he was young, that's a lie, he's never been to one, he was a shy nerd before the army, he only looks like a jock.

Farah : probably doesn't drink tbh, religion and all that, but she keeps an eye on them with Nik. Gets second hand embarrassment about them sometimes, but will get angry if anyone else makes a remark.

#cod mw2 #captain john price #kate laswell #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #rodolfo rudy parra #alejandro vargas #cod nikolai #alex keller #farah karim #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghostsoaproach #nikprice #gaz was talking about dragonflies btw #price being like 'don't tell nik it's unfair how pretty he is ok?' and nik like 'yes dear now put your glass down it's time for bed'

[enithechaospotato]

More genshin men fluff <:]

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Them being sick &/or injured and having you take care of them <3

Feat: scaramouche and xiao x gn!reader (seperate)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiao

"Y/n... You dont have to take care of me.. im fine-" he said in a raspy and frail voice

"Xiao you've been coughing all morning! You can't even get up and make some soup for yourself!"

"But i don't like soup."

"Well then, what do you like?"

"al-" "almond tofu, i should have known.." you internally face palmed yourself.

For the rest of the week, Xiao was telling you that he was alright as you took care of him. But you stayed nontheless, you knew he only wanted you to leave so that you dont risk getting sick yourself. You had the O mighty demon concourer flustered every minute or so, having him dig his red face into the blanket or pillow. Oh, and how'd you get him to react like this? All you have to do was give him a sweet, soft peck on the forehead, and he'd turn into a shy mess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scaramouche/Wanderer

You let out a soft chuckle "when did you become so cuddly?" "S-shut up..."

You had scaramouche's head on your shoulder, arms around your waist. You were caressing his hair with one hand while having your other one wrapped around him. He blushed from what you said, nuzzling himself into your neck, trying to avoid you from seeing it. But it was pointless, you could still see his bright red ears.

"awwh, you're so cute..~" You tease. "H-humph! I'll make you regret saying that later..!" He said trying to sound annoyed and confident, but his voice gave away that he only got more flustered.

"mhmm mhm, definitely" You replied as you rolled your eyes in amusement

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////

#xiao x reader #genshin x fem reader #xiao x fem!reader #xiao fluff #xiao x gender neutral reader #xiao x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x male reader #xiao x male reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #xiao x y/n #scara x reader #scara x you #scara x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin x female reader #genshin x you