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imaginedisish · 6 months ago

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Liquid Smooth (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Started writing this last night...sooo happy you guys wanted a sex pollen fic! Hope it lives up to everyone's expectations! This one is (obviously) inspired by "Liquid Smooth," by Mitski. ENJOY!

Summary: A simple mission deep in a forest alone with Logan quickly gets out of hand when you just have to go and pick a flower...

Warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI! Dry humping, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Sex Pollen (so dub!con just to be safe, but not really), Multiple orgasms, Porn Without Plot...literally, implied!age gap, cursing, friends to lovers, fem!reader/afab!reader, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,797 muahaha

“I don’t need a goddamn babysitter,” you murmur as Logan thumbs through the controls of the X-Jet. “Could’ve done this by myself.”

Logan scoffs. “I’m not your babysitter, princess.” You roll your eyes at the nickname Logan has specially reserved just for you. “Charles said we’d be safer going together. He knows you can handle yourself.”

The X-Jet cruises effortlessly through the clouds. The air is still today. Calm. You and Logan are on your way to get some sort of flower that Charles claims to have extensive healing properties. It’s an easy mission. No fighting. No violence. You’re unlikely to have to use your powers at all. And yet, you’ve been paired with Logan.

It wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t—admittedly—a little into him. Or rather, pining after him. There’s just something about the sarcasm that’s always thick in his voice; the way he squeezes himself into those thin beaters. How he’s always so self-assured, so thoroughly convinced he’s right. You just can’t help it. You want him. But he isn’t yours, and he probably never will be. He’s a little older—well, a lot, considering he’s been around forever. And you know it’s safer not to make attachments—not to fall in love.

Unfortunately, it’s a little too late for that.

But having him here with you now, alone, with no buffers…it’s overwhelming. You can smell him—that mix of tobacco and pine and musk and him. He’s suddenly everywhere, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You watch as his long fingers press different buttons, his hands gripping the steering wheel, adjusting thrusters. You stare at those fingers for far too long, your thoughts drifting to what else he can do with them. You think about him curling them deep inside you, stretching you open and—

“Everything okay?” You snap your head to face Logan, swallowing harshly as his voice pulls you back to reality.

You force a smile, nodding. “Yep!” You say, overcompensating just a bit. “All good,” you lie. You close your eyes, trying to push thoughts of Logan out of your head, denying the heat growing between your legs.

“Good, because we’re almost there,” Logan says, the X-Jet descending carefully. You look out the window to see the trees below. There’s a lake in the distance, but that’s it. No civilization, no houses—no one. It’s empty, peaceful.

“We’re really in the middle of nowhere, huh?” You say, glancing at Logan.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles. Warmth blooms in your heart at the sight. “My kind of place,” he says back. The X-Jet descends further as you approach a clear spread of grass to land on just ahead.

This is, in fact, not your kind of place. The humidity creeps up your back and settles under your skin. The forest is overgrown and impossible to navigate. You let Logan slice through the plant life with his claws, swiping back and forth whenever something gets in your way.

You haven’t been walking for long, but you’re already done. Perhaps Charles was right; a partner is not the worst idea on a mission like this.

You can see the flower just ahead—yellow petals and a long, green, viny stem. It glows brightly even under the dense forest canopy. “Semper in tenebris lux,” Charles had said; there is always light in darkness. And he was right. The flower illuminates everything in its path. Next to it, you can see a pretty, lavender-colored flower. You stop in your tracks, letting Logan wander ahead as you crouch down to stroke the purple petals.

“Charles didn’t say anything about not taking other flowers too, right?” You call out, watching as Logan swipes carefully at the stem of the yellow flower. He holds the dainty stem in his large hands as he walks back over to you.

“No, he didn’t. But you should be careful. It could be poisonous or—”

You ignore Logan, picking the flower anyway. You hold it up to your nose and breathe in. It’s sweet and fragrant. You twist the stem and realize the flower is sticky with sap and pollen. Your twist shakes some of the pollen up, and it lands all over your face.

“Shit,” you mutter, wiping it away. A gust of wind sweeps through the forest, knocking the flower out of your hand and spreading more of its pollen in the air. You can feel it in your nostrils, getting caught in your throat.

Logan furrows his brows as the pollen falls to the ground. “What the fuck did you do?”

You roll your eyes. “All I did was pick a flower!” You lift your hands, feigning innocence. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You stand up, glancing once at the yellow flower in Logan’s hands and then back at Logan. “It’s pretty.”

He parts his lips, his stare focused on you. “Yeah, it is.” There’s something else in that stare, in those words. Like maybe he isn’t only talking about the flower. You shove those thoughts down as you turn around and walk back to the jet.

Your steps are suddenly very heavy. You scratch at your shoulder. Heat blooms in your chest, your stomach, across your face. You’re irritated and overheated and itchy. Your breath grows heavier and rougher with every step.

Logan notices immediately. He stops, grabbing your arm. You can’t control the way you lean into his touch, nor the way you’re craving more. “Hey,” he soothes, eyes searching your face. “Are you okay?” There’s a hint of panic in his voice.

You swallow harshly, nodding. Your throat feels thick, your skin tight and oppressive. “’M’fine,” you mumble.

“Quit lying. I can tell something’s wrong,” Logan demands. You open your mouth to persuade him otherwise, but he doesn’t give you the chance, his grip tightening around your arm. “Your skin is on fucking fire, princess. What did you do?” He cocks his head, sniffing as he furrows his brows. His voice is darker now, slower as his eyes widen. “What the fuck did you do?”

You take in a sharp breath. And that’s when you feel it, the ache between your thighs, the slick arousal soaking through your panties. The realization smacks you in the face. For a moment, you’re clear-headed, but still terrified. The pollen. That goddamn, fucking pollen. “Logan, look, I think that purple flower had some—"

He cuts you off as he yanks your arm, tugging you towards the ship. “We need to get you back to the jet, okay?”

“Oh, I am so fucked,” you cry. You know you only have a few seconds left before the effects really kick in. “L-Logan,” you stutter, almost moaning as your core burns stronger with need. “T-the pollen was everywhere. What if you got some too?”

He ignores you, handing you the yellow flower you came here for in the first place. He sweeps one hand under your legs and keeps the other at your back as he lifts you in his arms—bridal style. You can feel his heart beating in his chest. You lean into him again, searching for relief. Wetness pools between your legs. You have never felt this needy before. Your desire hurts, burns, scorches you. You rut your hips, clenching down around nothing.

“S-stop doing that,” Logan spits, restrained and quiet.

“C-can’t,” you whine. “It hurts, Logan. It hurts so fucking bad. How come you aren’t like this too?”

He pulls you tighter to his chest. “I feel a little something, but that might just…”

You tilt your head up to look at him. He works his jaw, that perfect jaw. You want to bite it, to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Might just be what?” You ask, tentatively brushing your lips against the hollow of his throat.

“Nothing, just—fuck,” he groans as you press soft, open-mouthed kisses all around his neck now. “Don’t do that, princess. You don’t want this.”

“But I do, Logan,” you beg. The ramp to the jet lowers as you and Logan approach. “N-need you.” You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in. “Need y-you all the time.” The confession slips easily from your lips.

Logan’s eyes widen as he walks up the ramp and into the ship. It lifts and seals shut behind him. “You don’t mean that, sweetheart. Let’s just get you back to the mansion as quickly as possible, yeah?”

He places you down on the seat next to him, taking the flower from your hands and putting it in the jar Charles had given you. The leather cold at your back almost feels good, almost relieving—until you realize Logan is no longer holding you, touching you. You reach out towards him, grabbing his arms, pulling him back in. “Don’t go,” you plead, nails digging into his biceps. Your body is on fire. Everything is unbearably painful. “Please,” you whimper. “Need you so fucking bad, just you.”

“Fuck,” Logan curses. “I am not taking advantage of you. I am not doing this.” He stands, freeing himself from your grasp and walking over to the pilot’s chair. “I’m getting you back to the mansion and we’re going to fix this, okay?”

But that’s not good enough for you. You stand up and walk over to Logan. Your steps are shaky, your legs trembling. Your chest heaves, your heart beating rapidly. You climb into Logan’s lap, straddling him, one leg on either side. “Logan, I can’t fucking wait,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. The pressure feels delicious. He grabs your hips, stilling you, forcing you in place. And that’s when you feel it: his erection, hard underneath your core. “This isn’t you. You don’t really want this, don’t really want m—”

“It is me,” you protest, squirming against his hold. “Logan, I’ve wanted you for months. I-I was thinking about you t-touching me the whole way here.” You remember the way his fingers dexterously pushed all the right buttons. Need courses through you like a river, and as Logan’s hold on your hips softens, you grind down into his lap, against his erection. “S-so good,” you cry out.

His hands are still on your hips, but now he’s guiding you, rocking you against his cock. “J-just this though, okay?”

You hum, pressing your forehead to his, rolling your hips faster. The relief is like heaven. His arms wrap around your back, his fingers trailing up and down soothingly. Logan ruts into you, his erection straining against his jeans. You can feel yourself getting closer, but the pain, the need, it’s all still the same.

“Logan, it’s not gonna be enough,” you whisper, his lips ghosting yours. “N-need more. Hurts so bad.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, like he’s scared to truly touch you. But he wants to consume your pain, to take it away, to feel it for you. You can see it written across his face, in the way his cock throbs against your swollen clit, how he snaps his hips into yours.

“I know, princess,” he coos, his hands like fire on your back. Your walls contract around nothing, begging for something to hold onto, to feel something sink deep inside. “Gonna take care of you.” He kisses you again, with more vigor this time, more passion. “I’ve got you, darlin’.”

You moan into his mouth. His composure is slipping, disintegrating with every roll, every rock of your hips against his. His cock notches against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure up the base of your spine. He hikes your shirt up, the cold air hitting your overheated skin. “F-feels good,” you stammer. You’re almost there, almost hitting that peak. “S-so close.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes. “Let go for me, know you can do it.”

You moan his name, your orgasm crashing into you like a crescendo. You know you’re soaking through your clothes, and probably onto Logan’s too. He’s still rutting against you, giving you more. He knows it’s not going to be enough, and he’s right. Need builds back up just as quickly as you found your release.

“Lo…” you trail off, looking up at him under lust-filled eyes. You swallow harshly, squirming in his lap helplessly. “G-gotta have you.”

He presses his forehead to yours. He works his jaw, parting his lips. “Y-you meant it when you said you wanted me before this?” But he already knows the answer. He knows you wouldn’t lie to him about that, not even now.

“Yes,” you whine, pulling him closer. He tugs your shirt all the way over your head and picks you up, hands firmly gripping your ass. “Still gonna want you after this, too.”

He curses under his breath as he places you down in the pilot’s chair. He’s frenzied and frantic as he hooks his thumbs into your pants and panties, yanking them down your legs and casting them to the side.

He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands, his thumbs brushing soft circles into your inner thighs. He’s kneeling, looking up at you. Your breath catches in your throat as his face settles between your legs.

“Could smell you before, pretty girl,” he husks, his breath fanning over your clit. “Wanted this so fucking bad.” He doesn’t keep you waiting, licking a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit. “Knew you’d taste perfect. Pretty fucking pussy.”

You throw your head back as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking harshly. He slips one hand across your back, keeping you close. His free hand climbs up your thigh, fingers exploring your folds as his tongue flits across your swollen bud. He spreads your arousal, prodding against your entrance before shoving two fingers deep inside you. “Logan!” You cry out, your walls clenching around him. He’s stretching you out, his fingers dragging inside you. He pulls out and plunges back in. He isn’t taking his time, isn’t teasing. He’s giving you what you need, pump after pump.

You look down at him, his face buried in your cunt, consuming you, swallowing you whole like a starving man. He’s lost inside you, lapping at you with unwavering hunger and desire. His tongue swirls around your clit, his teeth grazing ever so slightly. You moan his name again, and he hums against you, the vibrations of his bassy voice rocking through your body. He’s wrecking you, but it feels so goddamn good.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he goads you along. He’s adding a third finger now, and you suck him in. You’d take anything he gives you, anything at all. “Doing so good for me, taking it so well.”

He sucks roughly, your walls clenching around him at the feeling. “Yeah?” He grunts, sucking again. “You like that? Feels good?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, stumbling over that one simple word. “S-so fucking good.”

“I know, beautiful,” he groans, nipping at your clit in between his rough sucks. “Gonna make that hurt go away, okay?” His voice is like honey, sugar; it’s sweet, addictive. “You just gotta come for me again, can you do that?” His tongue strokes your clit, his fingers pumping faster now.

You nod your head emphatically, pleasure surging as you near your peak. “Yeah, I-I can,” you huff.

Logan smiles against your cunt between rough laps. “I know you can, sweetheart.” His fingers scissor inside you, deeper than before. He takes your clit between his lips again, sucking hard.

And that’s all it takes—you’re screaming his name, coming undone, unraveling underneath him. The release is even better than the first, more full, more complete. Logan thrusts in and out a few more times before slowly pulling his fingers from your cunt. He licks one more long stripe through your folds and looks up into your eyes.

For a moment, the fire inside has been quenched. You feel clear, levelheaded. But it doesn’t last long. “Fuck,” you moan, your head hitting against the headrest of the chair. The fire is back, spreading across your stomach, your chest. “Logan,” you whimper. “I n-need more.”

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, taking you back up into his arms. He hoists you out of the seat, his hands finding your ass, squeezing softly. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you across the jet, setting you down on a storage container.

You bring your hands up to his biceps. “Need you this time, Lo,” you choke, stroking up and down his arms as the heat builds painfully between your thighs.

“Are you sure?” He asks, eyes searching yours.

“Always wanted you, always sure,” you whisper, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Wanted you too,” he husks. “But I wanted it to be different, to—” You cut him off. “Just want you. It’s okay like this. I promise.” You grind against him, his erection still straining inside the denim of his jeans.

He takes the hint, and quickly unbuckles his belt, casting the leather to the metal floor with a clunk. He’s unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, shoving them down his legs, and lining himself up with your entrance. You push your hips forward, giving him better access. His other hand pushes your bra above your breasts, exposing you completely to him.

With one hand on his cock and one squeezing your tits gently, he thrusts himself into you. He’s so deep—down to the hilt—stretching you out and working you open. He groans, flicking your nipple with his thumb, his lips at the shell of your ear. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, sending a chill down your spine, quenching that fire inside. “So warm, so tight.” He pulls out and plunges back in again, filling you up.

“Lo,” you whine. “More.”

“I know,” he growls, his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out with every thrust. “Gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He squeezes your tits once more before sliding his hand down your body and slipping between where the two of you connect. His fingers find your clit, drawing rough circles around the bud. “That feel good, beautiful?”

“Y-yes, Logan, so fucking good,” you cry out as he rocks into you. His other hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place. You hope there’s a bruise there later—proof that he touched you, proof that he fucked into you like the world was ending.

His cock rubs against your walls, your muscles contracting around him, sucking him in deeper. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, his lips crashing down onto yours, swallowing your moans. He’s taking all of you, hard and fast. You can feel him twitching inside you, throbbing with the same need you feel pulsing through your veins.

Logan kisses your jaw, and then just underneath, biting down on your pulse point. You arch your back, your chest meeting his. The contact is delicious, the friction a necessity. He thrusts into you faster now, doing his all to satiate your every need. He’s getting you there, pump after pump, hitting that sweet spot inside you every time.

It’s working. You can feel yourself slipping again, melting. “Logan,” you hum, too fucked out to say anything other than his name. That beautiful name, like a song in the air, a gentle prayer, a holy ghost. He’s all you need—all you’ve ever needed.

Your walls contract, squeezing him tightly. “Fuck,” he mutters. You know he’s close too. He strokes your clit, circling roughly. “Come on, pretty girl. You can do it, let me get you there again.”

“Lo,” you cry, your eyes fluttering open and shut as he fucks into you, rutting his hips, plunging deeper still. It’s all too much. You can feel the pleasure drumming inside you, coming to a head.

Logan loosens his grip on your hip and slides his hand behind your back, pulling you into his chest. You rest your forehead against his. “Come on my cock, princess, let go.” And you do. You’d do anything for him. You moan as your orgasm tears through you. It’s all blinding white heat, liquid smooth, pleasure wracking your body.

Logan curses under his breath, close behind. He pulses inside you once, and then he’s coming undone. Your arms wrap around his back, keeping him close, letting him know it’s okay to finish inside. He fills you up, whispering praises in your ear as you both come down from your high. Such a good fucking girl. Did so good for me. So fucking good. Perfect little pussy.

He’s still inside you, pumping slowly as you ride out your orgasm. His fingers let go of your clit, his hands running up your back and tugging you closer to him. He slowly pulls out, keeping you tight against his chest.

“Are you okay?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. You take a deep breath, waiting for the heat to build again, waiting for that need to surge every cell of your being. But there’s nothing. Your nerves are suddenly quiet—silent.

“I-I think it’s over,” you stutter, still nervous that maybe it’s not. He keeps you there, holding you tightly, ready to start again if necessary.

After a few minutes, you let yourself relax. It’s not coming back. It’s over.

Logan presses a chaste kiss to the side of your head. “I’ve still got you. Not going anywhere.” Your heart rate has finally slowed down. The heat is gone. You feel comfortable in your skin again. You take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into Logan’s chest.

“Nothing to be sorry for, princess,” Logan reassures, his voice gentle and soft. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You nod against him, but you still feel a sting in your heart. You need to make him know that you meant what you said—need him to know exactly how you feel. You swallow nervously, ready to bite the bullet.

“Logan,” you breathe. “I-I meant everything I said. It wasn’t just the pollen.” You pull yourself from his chest, looking up at him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you…” you trail off. “S-still need you now. Nothing’s changed.”

He smiles down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know, darlin’,” he husks. “I wanted you before, and I still do, too.”

“I know you wanted it to be different. I know it wasn’t—” But he cuts you off, his lips capturing yours, quieting your anxious rambles. “We’ll have other chances. Other times to do it the way I want.” He smirks, running his hands up and down your back.

Other chances. Other times. More. More. More. “Yeah?” You ask.

“Yeah, princess.”

tags: @wolviesgirl @dojacatswink @dilf420 @spiderset @pleasantlycrazyworld @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @y-ns-things

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reverieblondie · 10 months ago

Note

Could I request headcanons for Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Astarion with touch starved gn s/o?

I ended up rewriting these a few times but I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!

Haarlep and Raphael with thouch starved S/O HERE

Halsin

Halsin would never say you were obvious, but figuring out you were touched starved was relatively easy to tell. Especially with the game you were playing, it was clear after the nth time you asked for healing from him from a mere paper cut on your finger. Though, could anyone really blame you? After spending so much time on the road, with no friendly touch for weeks, then when Halsin came to your aid to heal you from a particularly nasty hit from a goblin, That was the start of it, the aching for him; you had been healed by others before but…nobody did healing like Halsin. Most healers hover their hands over you, but Halisn would hold you, pressing his large but tender hands to your skin, letting his healing magic flow through from him to you; the touch would send tingling shivers through you; some would argue that it was from the magic…But you knew it was from his touch. Halsin was more than willing to help heal you every time; in fact, the consent wanting his touch helped you two connect. Halsin hoped you would confess you wanted him to hold you one day. But you never did. So when you came for healing from your “terribly painful stomach ache,” he knew he would have to make the first move. “I think I know the perfect solution to your problem,” he whispered before he wrapped you in a tight hug; every ache and pain melted away from his touch. It is truly the perfect medicine anytime you feel touch starved.

Every party of Halsin is perfection in your eyes. Oak father really did a fantastic job when it came to making him. However, the one place you’re always grabbing onto the most is his arms. It’s not hard to see why; it’s nearly impossible to keep from clinging to his massive limbs, snuggling into them, running your hands over his thick forearms. Halsin, the sweetheart, doesn’t seem to mind your clinging, even if he is busy carving away. Now that Halsin has noticed your fondness for his arms, he may or may not start to flex them subtly when gesturing or wearing shirts that expose them so you can see every slight rippling of his muscles. Halsin will let you cling to him as long as he can nuzzle into his favorite part of you later tonight…

Now usually you’re the needy one in the relationship, pleading for hugs and beaming every time you get wrapped up in Halsins arms. Today has been different, however. It started when you woke up with Halsins hands creasing your sides and snuggling into your neck, of course you melted at the touch, thoroughly relishing in the attention, but it didn’t end there. Usually, Halsin would walk through the woods for some meditation and to gather herbs and materials for you two, but today, he didn’t leave your side. Of course, you loved it, but a part of you was starting to get worried. When you brought it up, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I just find myself wanting to be near you, my heart.” You squeeze his large hands back, “Well, let me help you, my love.” rising to your tiptoes, you begin to pepper kisses all over Halsins face. He grabs your waist and lifts you to meet his lips with yours quickly; the kiss only makes him needier.

He loves every part of you, from your hair to your adorable toes. But his hands consistently linger on your curves. On those days when you are feeling extra needy. Halsin is more than willing to help…In some inventive ways. The contrast is maddening… The smooth honey slips on top of your heated skin, and then Halsins rough tongue licks up the sticky liquid off your stomach. His hands guide your back to an arch as he keeps his hazel eyes on your moaning face. Sucking and licking as his hands continue to run over your squirming body. Halsin doesn’t know what is sweeter, the honey or you; he will spend all night trying to figure it out.

Zevlor

Zevlor has been around for a while but was never too familiar with the term ‘Touched starved.’ Sure, he had heard it back in his commander days from soldiers whispering about needing attention of the flesh but never truly gave it too much thought…until. The idea came to him when he noticed a particular trait of yours. You had no special awareness when it came to him. Consistently, you were leaning into him quite closely, and when you two walked around during perimeter checks, you would often bump into him or brush your hand against his. Of course, you would apologize for your clumsiness, but deep down, you knew what was happening…Your body was burning for him, his warmth, his touch, and it was seeking it out in any way possible. It didn’t click so quickly for Zevlor until he saw you sparing, and there was no inclination of any clumsiness in your movements; even with others, he never saw you bump or run into anything; your movements were precise and calculated…and that’s when he figured it out you were touching him purposely. Zevlors first thought was, why? Then his second was how can he tell you to only ask him for his touch. Finally, one day, as you two were doing your usual perimeter check, you slowly inched closer and closer to him, seeking the slight relief of his touch. Still, as you went to bump into him for only a moment, you found the ex-hellrider wrapped his arms quickly around you keeping you to his warm chest. Eyes wide, you go to apologize, but Zevlor is quick to quiet your worries, “If you need my warmth…please don’t hesitate to ask me…” After that day, you got a hug from him every chance you could…

Zevlor enjoys the sweet intimacy of your relationship. At first, he was not used to someone wanting to hold him so closely and shower him with affection, but slowly, he is getting used to it and enjoying it immensely. Though, you still find ways to surprise him…For example, when you start paying particular attention to his cheeks and horns, you can’t stop wanting to hold his face so tenderly and whisper soft praises to him. “I’ve never seen beauty like yours, Zevy…” he feels his heart melt at every whisper and every gentle touch to his skin. Then, if you happen to caress the base of his horns? Well…you have never heard such a deep pur.

It had been the first day in a long while that you and Zevlor spent most of the day apart. He had promised to speak to some recruits in the city, sharing his wisdom, and you had opted to stay at home. You were expecting him to come home at any minute, so you were working hard to prepare a surprise dinner for him. You missed him being home; usually, you would spend the day working in your small garden together and setting out laundry on the line together. It was lonely without him, so you planned to show him how much you missed him. As you were finishing your stew, you felt arms snaking around your waist. You gasped before his familiar voice eased you, “Be still, my dear, it’s only me…” Your body immediately relaxes as you turn to hug him back. “How was your trip?” Zevlor only hums as he buries his head into your neck. “I missed you…the road was lonely without you by my side…” you rub your hands up and down his arms as they hug you. Then you feel one of his arms part from you and hear the stove turn off; before you can ask anything else, you’re lifted and carried away toward your shared room. “Zev! What- What about Dinner?” “It can wait…I need to be close to you, just for a while…” The stew wasn’t eaten until much later…

“So beautiful…” his breath is warm as he whispers the complement into your neck. Zevlor’s lips caress your tender skin as he moves to your ear. You cling to his broad shoulders tighten, and your legs squeeze his textured hips. “You’re taking me so well. I’m proud of you.” The moan is involuntary as you feel him push deeper, his lips catching and nipping on your ear, his sharp teeth threatening to pierce, but his tongue soothing you so softly. Moving from your ear, you almost let out a whine before he blows a teasing breath on your neck, causing you to squirm and keen at the tickleing sensation. Zevlor’s fiery eyes look down at you, and that soft smile never fails to melt your core. He leans in, lips hovering over yours, his hands softly gliding down your waist, “I love you…” The vow is then sealed with a kiss.

Wyll

Wyll hadn’t thought of you as touched starved until you had to tell him flat-out. To his credit, you didn’t make it easy for him to figure out. When Wyll thinks of the term touched starved, he thinks of someone like him. Someone always willing to give out a hug or a friendly pat on the back; if you’re touched starved and in the proximity of Wyll, you were not touched starved for long. Hells, Wyll would risk the burns of hugging Karlach if she so requested. You, on the other hand, would never seem to be receptive to his friendly gestures, having grown up in a home with little affection and living on the brutal road for a while with a pleasant touch would always be a shock to your system. Especially from Wyll, it was like lightning shooting through your body with a new surge of energy you didn’t know what to do with, so you would tense up. After feeling you clamp up, Wyll simply thought you didn’t like to be touched, so ever the gentleman, he stopped. But that only made you begin to grave him…Finally, after days of seeing him touch and hug your other friends, you felt yourself going to pop. In a spur of the moment, you walked into his tent, staring at his confused features; timidness threatened to take you over, so with shaking limbs, you held your arms open with a shaky beg of “Please…” Wyll’s smile would grow so wide as he embraced you. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched?” “I…I like it when you do it…I crave your embrace…” Wyll will never make you ask please for a hug again…but other things, he might…

You couldn’t explain exactly why you love it so much, but you find you’re running your hands up and down Wylls strong back every time you get the chance. Maybe it was from seeing all its glory when he returned from the river or in the early mornings when he woke up for training. There’s just something about his broad shoulders that lean down to his narrow waist that makes your hands twitch to touch him. Wyll, of course, isn’t oblivious to how you take him in; that might be why he walks around without a shirt more often. His favorite part about liking his back is when you rest your head between his shoulder blades and hold onto him tightly. It never fails to put a smile on both your faces.

Between the two of you, you’re the one who is always slow to wake. On a typical day, you usually wake up to an empty left side of the bed, but this morning is different. You wake up to your body being held by what looks like a sleeping Wyll. Your first instinct is to worry and check him for a fever, but you find that he feels normal, and when he wakes, he greets you with a lazy smirk. “Are you okay, Wyll? You’re usually up by now?” Wyll hums softly as his eyes lazily roam over your form, “I woke up earlier but found that I couldn’t part from you…” His sweet words always make you blush, and you go to say you're sorry out of habit, but you’re silenced by him gently stroking your cheek. “Well, How about I make breakfast for us? We could eat together.” As you rise, you are quickly grabbed and trapped within his arms, his lips attacking your neck in a plethora of kisses, making you giggle. “You’re not going anywhere…I am not done with you yet…”

It’s always so slow, his hands sliding up and down your spread legs while your sex grows more and more aroused. One part of you wants to beg him to stop teasing you, but you both know that the loving pass of his hands on your skin is what you crave. Wyll keeps his eyes on yours as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The attention he gives you makes your mind hazy and your sex quiver in a way that only he causes. A moment of weakness causes you to moan his name. He will look down at your flushed face and smile against your skin before finally sliding his tongue on the spot you need him the most.

Rolan

Rolan is very familiar with the term being touched starved, and from being accused of it by Cal and Lia relentlessly, he was aware of the traits. Not that he thought he ever showed these. Then came you, and it was the end of him being touched starved. Rolan, at first, didn’t understand why every time you were near, your hand would absentmindedly rub in between his shoulder blades or how when you would go out to the tavern, you would sit so close to him, and it wasn’t as if you were unaware of this. No, from how you would look at his curious gaze with a smirk and a sparkle in your eyes, he knew you were messing with him. Though despite this…you two kept hanging out. If anyone would ask you if you longed for touch, you would say you only wanted Rolans and you had no shame about it; you just wished one day he would indicate the touch for once. Finally, one night, Rolan invited you to the tower to do some reading, something you could do at home, but you wouldn’t dream of passing up a moment to be around him. You two had found yourselves on the chaste, sitting very closely, exchanging blushing looks over the edges of your books, and with every passing page, you two would find yourselves inching closer and closer. Then, as your thighs are pressed together, you feel a warmth wrapping around your ankle. Looking down, you see his tail wrapped around you loosely, unsurely. Rolan had finally taken the initiative, and you were beaming. “If it bothers you, I can-” But before he could finish his sentence, you wrapped his arm around you as you curled into him more. You could hear the rapid rushing of his heart, and you could feel how it matched your own. “It doesn’t bother me; I’ve just been wondering what’s been taking you so long…” The teasing only rewards you with a tighter hold.

You find every part of Rolan to be utterly perfect, from his beautiful horns to his freckled cheeks to his toes. But the one part of him you constantly find yourself playing with is his tail, swaying and twitching like it has a mind of its own. You love to sneak behind him and run your fingers over the ridged base. The shiver and low growl he gives out every time makes you want to tease and touch him more, your hands becoming clammy for it. Today, you’re reading and mindlessly playing with the sharp tip till, finally, he’s curling the tail around your forearm and pulling you closer for a hungry kiss. He says he is being driven mad by your relentless teasing; you can only smile back before whispering, “Then you shouldn’t keep rewarding me…”

Rolan tries not to let his neediness get the better of him…but some days, he can’t resist your pull on him. Every time he saw you today, his hands roamed over every curve, his nose in the crook of your neck, and he muttered things you couldn’t catch. The attention was well received as you loved his every touch, but when you parted from him to wash up for the night, the look on his face was utter devastation. “I will be quick, then all night I am yours.” Rolan tsked as he let you go, sitting down in his chair where he would wait for your return. You tried your best to hurry into the bath but were not quick enough. As you wet your hair to be ready for washing, you heard the door open and were greeted by the magnificent sight of Rolan in a small cloth wrapped around his waist. He motions for you to make room. He removes his towel and joins you in the bath. You are happy but utterly confused, and Rolan is quick to defend his actions as he gathers soap into his palm, “You took too long, so now I am here to help; now turn so I can wash your hair.” Without any protest, you turn and relish in the feeling of his clawed hands, washing and lathering the soap in your hair, taking the time to scratch your scalp as he cleans you gently. Maybe you should have him wash your hair every time? If you asked, Rolan would be happy, too.

It started as a pleasant surprise; while you two were working at Sundries, his tail kept brushing against your butt, and when you two would be out of view from prying eyes, his hand would gently caress your ass. These are simple hints of his wants; you are always eager for his touch. Now here you are, pressed against the back wall with Rolan's needy hands grabbing tight handfuls of your butt. Pants are quickly discarded, and he gives you a quick slap to the soft exposed flesh for being such a naughty distraction. You keen and arch, grinding your ass against his burning erection. A deep moan when his nails dig into your flesh as he starts to rut into you deeply. Panting breaths, intertwined limbs, sweaty bodies desperately rocking against each other. It’s the night you learned that the Great Master Rolan is an ass man.

Gale

You never thought of yourself as touched starved; sure, you had points when you thought of being held or holding someone, but it was never something you would say you were starving for; well, that was until Gale. It was an accident when it happened; you two had offered to go to the morning market to gather supplies for dinner. The morning market was incredibly crowded, and you two kept getting separated. Gale, always the quick thinker, came up with the best solution. As he walked in front of you like a shield, he grabbed your hand and led you through. The gesture immediately stirred something within you, and as you walked hand in hand, looking at the back of him, you found yourself tightening your grip. During the rest of your time at the market, you two held each other’s hands. It wasn’t until you two returned to camp that you realized you held hands the whole way back. After that day, you reached out for his hand more often. Gale, of course, didn’t seem to mind. He liked the extra company, but getting you to let go so he could cut vegetables was challenging. After a while, you will find yourself craving more touches from Gale. So late one night, you crawled into his tent; when you woke him, he was initially surprised, asking you what you needed. “I…I think I’m touched starved…could…you hold me for a bit?” Gale’s heart nearly burst out of his chest, but he eagerly invites you into his arms, delighted to share in cuddles and maybe a few kisses.

It should be no surprise your favorite place to touch Gale is his hands. They are perfectly soft and fit perfectly within yours. You find that your hands are interlocked together if you’re by him. Gale finds your need to hold him in some way lovely and ultimately endearing. Gale’s favorite times when you hold his hands is when you are fast asleep curled up with him in his bedroll, your hands interlaced with his. He doesn’t dare move them because he knows you will only start seeking them again in your sleep.

You’re used to holding Gale’s hand, but on days he’s feeling needy, you find that his hands tend to roam. Today had been one of those days; his hands had started lazily, moving up and down your arms, gently grazing you all morning so tenderly. By the afternoon, his hands had found their way to run up and down your back, moving so slowly to send shivers through your body successfully. Then, in the Evening, they moved to trace your sides as his lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck. Finally, you asked if he was well, his lips smiling against your skin. “Perfectly fine…just being needy for you…does it bother you?” you feel your skin flush, and your lips curl to an excited smile. “No, I like the attention from you…” Gale is always ready to shower you with attention; you just need to ask…

The man didn’t lie when he told you he had a practiced tongue, and tonight, you are finding that out firsthand. You felt needy when you crawled into his tent; it was late, and he was surprisingly awake. At first, it was innocent, simple hand holding a kiss or two like other nights before to satisfy your need, but tonight, you’re finding your aching for more, and Gale knows this. All you need to do is ask…Your hands grip tightly to the blankets as his tongue works against you. Gales focuses as his hands grip your thighs, and he sucks and licks more. He’s desperate to taste your release all over his tongue, and with him always being so good to you, who are you to deny him?

Astarion

With all he had been through, the feeling of being touched had become unstimulating. Astartion had felt every kind of touch possible. Well, at least that’s what he thought, until you. The energy between you two had been electric from the first moment; you were brilliant, and his usual charms didn’t make you bend like they did others. In fact, for all his teasing, you would give back your own. It was like a game between you two, and it only made you crave each other more. Then it hit its peak…You were admittedly getting lost in his words as he spoke to you, but it was different; it was genuine, and you had never felt so close to others. So when you gently brushed back his hair as he talked, you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise. Your weakness shocked you, and Astarion was surprised by someone touching him so gently, as if he were made of glass. Going to take back your hand, it’s quickly caught by his, and gentle lips pressing to your palm sets your skin ablaze. The kiss was as soft as your touch, but Astarion can never pass up an opportunity… “Couldn’t help yourself anymore, hm?” You would accept defeat this once…

Astarion has never been a fan of cuddling…well, not until he met you. And what did you do to make him change his mind on the slow and intimate activity? Astarion loves the way your fingers brush slowly and carefully through his hair. He finds he has gradually become needy for that soft, gentle touch. On the other hand, you love the feeling of his soft locks slipping through your fingers; actually, there are many things you can adore about Astarion; you find the soft touch of brushing through his hair always seems to relax you. You could spend all night with him in your arms like this…and you do.

You didn’t know if it was your imagination, but Astarion seemed grumpy today. You had tried to joke around with him and even participate in some teasing and flirting, but he wasn’t receptive. Thinking it best to just drop it, you left him alone for the rest of the day, going about your usual task. Then Evening rolled around; you were getting ready for bed when you heard a throat clearing outside your tent. Poking your head out, you saw Astarion looking…bashful? “Do you mind…if I slept here…with you…I’ve…been feeling off…” One part of you wanted him to explain; he had ignored you, and now he wants to sleep in your tent with you? And wait, elves don’t sleep? But something about the look in his red eyes…he seemed…lonely…Gently, you reach your hand out to grab the sleeve of his shirt and pull him in softly. The rest of the night was spent with you sleeping with your head in his lap as he read to your sleeping form. Being around you made him feel so much better; it was as he thought…he was starting to rely on you, and for once, the thought of depending on another didn’t scare him.

Sometimes, you can not decide who is needer between the two of you. Of course, you two tease each other about it, but Astarion is always the better tease. You’re rolling your eyes in both pleasure and annoyance as he moves his tongue across your chest, your nipples peaked and sensitive to every feathery touch. You try to keep your moans in, but it’s useless; “You make such pretty sounds, darling, keep it up.” His cold hands move between caressing your chest and your skin to find your sensitive nipples. Red eyes look up at you, filled with mischief. Is he satisfied with just a taste? Or will he bite…

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miicapitann · 7 months ago

Text

Yuri Briar x Seme Male Reader

It's impossible to find any male reader fics about Yuri Briar from Spy x family, and I've had some ideas. I figured I may as well write them down, whether they end up being for myself or if others end up enjoying them.. I would like to continue this one, at least.

↜(つ▀¯▀ )つ︻デ┳═ー.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Summary: Yuri Briar finds himself with a new coworker, a mercenary by the codename Snake Eyes. After working with the man once, he finds him to be a few things: incredibly unaware, incredibly efficient, incredibly strong, and kind of hot?? Not that he can see the mercenary's face.. Tall, fully armed, and respecting his sister, whom he hasn't even met? Just Yuri's type!

Walking into his superior's office, Yuri removed his hat with his left hand, held it over his chest, and used his right hand to salute his boss.

"SIR!! How can I help you!" He shouted out, with what his boss interpreted as the enthusiasm of a puppy.

"A man who's been murdering civilians was brought in today; I'm assigning you to interrogate him with the 'officer' who caught him in the room." He paused, his more serious demeanor dropping as he looked up at Yuri, smiling. "You haven't worked with Snake Eyes yet, have you? He's a highly skilled mercenary who we've managed to secure under our belt; you two would get along." His smile changed from a grin as he tapped his cigar into the ashtray on his desk. Sometimes, his demeanor almost seemed like a schoolgirl's..

Yuri was mildly confused. He had never even heard of a mercenary working with the State Security Service, something he questioned his boss about. He was only told that this Snake Eyes fellow handled their most dangerous cases.

"Here's the file on the suspect. You're in charge of the interrogation; Snake Eyes is only there for intimidation tactics and keeping the perp in line. There's a list of what we need to know in the envelope. Do your best, Second-Lieutenant Briar!!" His boss beams at the end, shooing Yuri out to complete the interrogation.

As he walked from his superior's office to the interrogation room, he looked over the file quickly but thoroughly. Usually, he had much more time to brief himself on the situation and the suspect and even gather his own evidence. On this occasion, Yuri hadn't even been aware of a murderer being afoot, though he figured it may have been due to the fact that a case like this was certainly something that the Lieutenant would handle. Or perhaps it was how overworked and exhausted he was that something like this never reached him. Yuri neared the room that the 'scum of the earth murderer' was held in, having read his name to be Halbert Johnson.

'What a terrible name... I can't believe garbage like this walks the same earth as my dear Yor..' He thought to himself; his enraged feelings could be seen clearly on his face. And expression that was clearly seen by the Lieutenant, who walked toward him from in front of the interrogation room.

"Second-Lieutenant Briar." He started. Speaking calmly and controlled. Stiffening, Yuri saluted.

"Lieutenant Sir!" he said, with that puppy-like attitude that his boss had noticed.

The lieutenant had decided that if the interrogation with Halbert went well, not only would Yuri be trusted with more important tasks, but he may be paired with Snake Eyes more if they seemed to work well together. The second 'privilege' being a request of the big man in charge. He walked Yuri back toward the direction that he had come from, toward where the Second-Lieutenant was originally headed, the interrogation room.

"I'm sure you were informed that you would be working with Snake Eyes." He asked. A rhetorical question. "He's the guy in the combat gear. Introduce yourself and begin when you're ready." He finished, walking away right after.

Yuri turned his attention to the man 'in the combat gear' with whom he would be working. His gaze started at the other man's feet, dragging upwards, a climb that seemed to go on forever.

'This guy is gigantic!!' Yuri thought to himself, his emotions, this time shock, evident on his face. This was Snake Eyes.

Snake Eyes was incredibly tall; the top of Yuri's head barely reached the guy's collarbones. He was dressed in combat boots with a visible steel toe, black cargo pants cinched in around his thighs with straps that held heavy-duty weaponry, ranging from combat knives to guns and-

'IS THAT A FUCKING GRENADE??' Yuri wasn't really sure if the other man was allowed to have that, but given the fact that he also wasn't really sure what the station of the other man was other than mercenary, he decided not to question it. He was in the headquarters of the SSS. If he wasn't authorized to have it, he wouldn't.

The straps on the mercenary's thighs connected to a belt that sat around his hips, weaving through the loops on his pants. This belt held more gear, one of which was clearly a pistol. He wore a form-fitting dark green T-shirt, matching the green color of the SSS uniform, underneath a bulletproof vest. His arms were concealed with a long-sleeved black compression shirt that he wore under the T-shirt, and his hands were adorned with black and green gloves with small orange details that seemed to have armored knuckles. Strapped to his back was a submachine gun.

Yuri wasn't sure if he should be more afraid of the submachine gun, the grenades, or perhaps the man himself. But as he looked toward the other's face, finally ready to introduce himself, he noticed that Snake Eyes wore a black balaclava helmet and reflective goggles, his identity completely concealed aside from his eye-catching tall stature. He looked like he could stop a truck bare-handed, or at least, that was what was on Yuri's mind as he stuck his hand out to greet his new coworker or whatever he was.

"Hello, I'm Second-Lieutenant Yuri Briar. It's nice to meet you. I was told we are working together today," he said. his tone was formal, yet the slight confusion and nervousness were pretty evident on his face.

"𝚂𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜," the other man introduced himself, grabbing Yuri's outstretched hand and giving it an incredibly firm shake but not strong enough to hurt Yuri. "𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞."

The gear he was wearing muffled his voice, enough that Yuri couldn't match the voice if he heard it elsewhere, but not enough to make him unable to hear the other man clearly, and certainly not enough to make him unable to tell how incredibly deep the man's voice was either. What Yuri couldn't make out was any sort of tone in the tall man's speech nor the smile directed at him as they shook hands.

The two of them chatted for a moment, discussing the circumstance and who they were interrogating. This led Yuri to discover that while Snake Eyes was the one who brought Halbert in, he hadn't known the man's name prior to Yuri debriefing him. While he was confused and almost put off by the lack of information that the mercenary had, he sort of admired the fact that he was so committed to protecting the country that he focused on apprehending villains dutifully without worrying about the details, trusting his superiors fully. This was not at all why the other man was so ill-informed. He just didn't care; he was shown a face and given a location, and the rest was history, though it went over much more peacefully than he was used to.

Yuri stepped into the interrogation room first, slipping on his black leather gloves as Snake Eyes followed behind him, ducking through the doorway.

"Mr. Halbert Johnson, a murderer. I'm appalled a disgusting wretch like you was in the same city as my lovely sister." Yuri began.

His love for his sister and his dedication to protecting her showed immediately. Halbert did not respond, being aware that what you don't say cannot be used against you. Yuri settled at the seat across the table from Halbert, though opting to stand, leaning his weight on the table with his arms as he tilted forward toward the suspect, while Snake Eyes stood to Yuri's left, at the end of the table, facing the two of them with his back against the wall and his arms crossed, he said nothing. The other SSS officer in the room was unnamed to the mercenary, but he sat at a separate table directly across from him and faced Snake Eyes, writing down everything that had happened. Yuri continued to intimidate the murder suspect in front of him, making sure he knew that lying and withholding information was not to be tolerated while also very frequently mentioning and praising his beloved sister.

"The body of Patricia Phillips was found at the job site of a construction company that you work for. Significant evidence points in your direction; admit to your crimes." Yuri glared at the angry man in front of him. Seemingly having enough of Yuri's chatter, Halbert stood quickly, raising a fist to punch the Second-Lieutenant and shouting at him.

"FUCK YOU AND YOUR DUMBASS SISTER, I DIDN'T DO SHIT!!" He spat, figuratively and literally, as he put his full force into his fist.

Stepping in quickly, Snake Eyes lifted his arm, gripping Halbert by the face and slamming him down onto the floor where he lay on his back, the mercenary's hand still holding the sides of Halbert's head tightly and forcing him downward, the killer's legs squirming as his hands gripped at the much stronger man's arm desperately. Yuri stood up away from the table, shocked and in a cold sweat from almost being punched.

"𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍-𝙻𝚒𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚛," Snake Eyes spoke up, his hand squeezing tighter for a moment. "𝙰𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛.." He finished, gripping Halbert from the collar of his shirt, lifting him off of his feet, and tossing him back into his chair. Halbert froze but was forced to speak when a kick hit the leg of the chair he sat in just as the man in combat gear settled back into his position at the end of the table.

"I.." Halbert choked on his words, fear evident on his face. "I'M SORRY!! I'M SURE YOUR SISTER IS LOVELY.. AND INTELLIGENT!! I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING!" He shook.

Yuri was shocked by the entire situation, and the initial act of violence made by Halbert scared him. He could not have reacted fast enough to block it himself, though it would not have injured him too badly. However, he was most baffled by Snake Eyes' actions, not only because he stepped in to protect Yuri but also because he made Halbert apologize for trying to hit him and for insulting his sister. He flushed a bit at that, feeling admiration toward the tall man and secretly loving the fact that he protected him. Yuri cleared his throat, shooing the redness on his cheeks away as much as he could.

"Did you kill Patricia Phi-" He was cut off.

"Yes!" Halbert admitted.

"𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖." Snake Eyes said as he checked the number of bullets in his pistol, effectively giving the criminal a new fear. That fear was him, of course.

"sorry.." Halbert said meekly.

As the short interaction between the man in combat gear and the murderer went down, the officer documenting the whole thing sat stiffly, in secondhand fear of Snake Eyes, while Yuri scolded himself for being attracted to how the man scolded the criminal like a child for interrupting him. No one had ever really defended him or taken care of him like that besides his sister.

"How many others have you killed," Yuri asked cooly, with fake composure, as he thought fondly of the mercenary in the room with him. Halbert hesitated but answered immediately when he heard Snake Eyes cock his gun, something that made every man in the room flinch.

"Thirteen! I-Including the woman!!" Halbert yelped. His attitude significantly changed from the cool and irritated front he had put on when they originally entered the room.

Yuri continued to ask the man questions, discovering the whereabouts of each victim's body, the people Halbert worked with, and the names of the people he had killed, ending the integration, not without Snake Eyes striking fear into everyone in the room a few more times, of course. Exiting the interrogation room, Yuri peeled his leather gloves off, sighing and relaxing his shoulders.

"Thank you for helping with the interrogation. It would have taken impossibly long without you. I doubt we would have gotten so much information out of him, too." Yuri praised the armored man beside him.

"𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔?" Snake Eyes said, leaning down to speak closer to his ears. He did not like to raise his voice much. He was confused at what the smaller man was talking about. Yuri was baffled, not understanding how the mercenary was unaware of all the help he provided.

"He wouldn't have talked if he wasn't so afraid of you. You destroyed his confidence." He smiled up at the other, placing a hand appreciatively on the man's bicep.

He almost flinched at the feeling of the other's muscled arm underneath his hand. Sure, his undershirt was skin-tight, and his T-shirt was relatively form-fitting as well, but even by touching his arm himself, Yuri knew that he could only imagine how shredded Snake Eyes was under all his gear. The mercenary hummed in response to what Yuri had said, probably still somewhat confused. He was about to speak up when the Second-Lieutenant spoke again.

"So, where does the codename Snake Eyes come from? If it's okay to ask.." He trailed off, suddenly fidgety and nervous. His face reddened as the pause in the conversation grew.

"𝙸 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜.." The man admitted, feeling a little foolish for his reasoning. "𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜." he continued.

There was a short pause. Yuri was processing what had happened, surprised by how much he was willing to talk to him, given that he had been warned that the man was usually very quiet. He was snapped out of his jumbled thoughts when the taller laughed.

"𝙸 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍. 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗." He finished. Yuri blushed heavily and sputtered for a moment before he could speak clearly.

"I-I think it makes sense to protect yourself and your family. Well, I'm a little confused about using it in the SSS, but you are a mercenary!" He fidgeted as he spoke, afraid of scaring the other away with the things he said.

"𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎... 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎..." He trailed off for a moment. "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 (𝚈/𝙽) 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑." He gave his real name, for once seeming nervous himself.

Yuri was ecstatic that (Y/N) had decided that he trusted him enough to give his real name; he rolled the name through his head over and over, repeating it in his thoughts, even analyzing it, 'Where was it from? Certainly not Ostania.' he thought.

"Ah! You can call me Yuri; there's no need for the Second-Lieutenant stuff!!" he stuttered. An intense blush rushed to his face, spreading to his ears and the back of his neck. As he stumbled around with his words, (Y/N) undid the clip on his helmet and pushed it back a bit, leaning down and pressing his forehead against Yuri's.

"𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔? 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚍." He said, removing one of his gloves, the velcro sending a crackling sound through the air as he pressed his bare hand against the back of Yuri's neck. Though some of the man's hair and skin were revealed at this moment, Yuri saw none of it. The blush spread down his shoulders and even appeared on his fingertips as his entire body went hot. He Passed out.

(2,623 words)

#yuri briar #spy x family #spy x family x reader #seme male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #male reader #x male reader #yuri briar x male reader

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that-house · 3 days ago

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The Tarrasque Can Blow Me or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Make 5e Bosses That Don't Suck

HI, I'm Catherine that-house, and I play Dungeons and Dragons Fifth Edition almost as much as I hate it. I do this because I am a sicko pervert who likes to tinker with abysmal dogshit, not because it's a good game. This screed is dedicated to everyone trapped in the same mine as me.

D&D 5e combat sucks! Here's the flow chart for your melee champion fighter's turn:

IF BAD GUY: smack bad guy

IF BAD GUY WITHIN 30 FT: move to bad guy, smack bad guy

IF LOW ON HP: second wind

IF NO BAD GUY WITHIN 30 FT: dash towards nearest bad guy

action surge, take it from the top

IF YOU'RE FEELING DARING TODAY: maybe a grapple or an item interaction

And pretty much any non-caster monster has a pretty similar flowchart: there's no real back and forth, just the same set of actions over and over and the only time you have to pay attention on someone else's turn is for an attack of opportunity maybe. Finally one side reduces the other side's number to 0, and you can get back to roleplaying in your roleplaying game.

In general, I strive to make my boss fights hard and interesting, with interesting being the more important of the two. For some reason the wicked clowns working at WOTC got it into their heads that the only ways to make a fight hard are Bigger Number and Less Counterplay. I don't have any data on how they sought to make fights interesting because as far as I can tell they were too busy siccing the Pinkertons on people like it's the fucking 1800s.

Probably not all 5e combat is like this. But, like, look at the statblock for the Tarrasque, the CR 30 "strongest monster in the game" and try to tell me that that thing looks INTERESTING to fight. Difficult? Maybe, if your stats are bad. But INTERESTING? It walks at someone and murders the shit out of them, then rinses and repeats. The fetid dog turd that is the Tarraque is the perfect example of the Bigger Number, and even its meme status as the DM's "fuck you" monster is eclipsed by later additions to the game.

The other end of the "strongest 5e statblock" spectrum is shit like Sul Khatesh from Eberron, who earns the title of "most bullshit" by being immune to nonmagic attacks and creating antimagic fields. This is progress, because you might force someone to grapple it out of the field or something so everyone can deal damage! But this is still ultimately a pretty linear fight, not unlike fighting any other caster in the game, but with Less Counterplay.

My DMing style is pretty character goal-oriented, with the occasional bullshit superboss. We sit around for a few sessions while people pursue side projects and gather information, and then I subject them to the Horrors of a 5e fight that requires things like "positioning" and "planning" from turn to turn.

When playing a high level D&D campaign with insanely bullshit homebrew magic items and character-specific custom mechanics, it becomes necessary to pull out the big guns. The biggest guns. I'm talking a gun like my boy Hierarch Ozyas, undead demigod, father of monsters and heart of a living city, who had a meaty 2000 hit points and took somewhere in the vicinity of thirteen rounds of combat to bring down. Building bosses is an arms race and it's my job to lose in style. Here's Ozyas' statblock:

The bitch himself

Anyways I've been talking for a bit without actually saying anything of substance besides making fun of the Tarrasque. Which I will do one more time:

...deep breath...

D&D 5e is a pretty widely-disdained game by pretty much anyone who's ever played more than one RPG system. I myself only play it because I enjoy game design, and the thoroughly-beaten dead horse that WOTC calls a game serves as a decent foundation to do a lot of heavy tinkering. The Tarrasque is perfectly emblematic of all of the trash I have to wade through in order to get to the stuff worth keeping: it is an uninspired, anticlimactic relic of the past that didn't even manage to cling to a shred of its old glory and is instead content to wallow in the filth of what it once was, never once providing a challenge to any character with a flying speed. I would probably attempt to beat it to death with my hands (and fail, because it checks your character's stats rather than challenging you as a player in any way), but Jim the 1st level aaracokra with a save-forcing damage cantrip already solo'd it for me, so I'll settle for chewing through the throat of whichever game designer forgot they were making a "game" and submitted a three step flowchart for D&D's ultimate boss monster.

But anyways, I promised you a guide to how I design boss fights these days, so let's get to that.

Actually, first here's a quick aside about action economy that I didn't bother finding a place to fit in elsewhere: legendary actions are basically a necessity for any boss past level five or so. One big action is going to be a lot more polarizing than several small ones (i.e. one big crit on a large attack could completely flip the course of the fight, whereas multiple smaller attacks offer the same amount of damage output in a more consistent fashion). If you don't want to give your boss a bunch of HP to make it live long enough to take a few turns, you could consider giving it two turns in the initiative order (reducing the damage per turn to keep the damage per round constant). Low health minions are also a good way to pad out action economy, and even if they're easy to kill they tend to buy the boss another turn or two just from the actions it costs to take them down.

ANYWAYS, here's the core ideas I like to focus on in my boss design:

Keep them moving

Keep them working

Keep things changing

Reward good play

Punish mistakes

Make it a game

Along the way I'll be using snippets of the boss I mentioned above to illustrate examples of these principles and how they affected play. Let's begin.

KEEP THEM MOVING Positioning doesn't really matter in 5e. AoEs and movement values are both so large that you can easily get away with not having a battle map and sorta just tracking "in melee" or "not in melee." I run most fights without a battle map and just kinda track that, but for a good boss you need a map.

But how do we keep the game from just falling back into "move into range and hurt people," you ask? Simple: the Zone of Nasty. The Zone of Nasty is something on the map that is going to hurt the PCs if they're in it, and the Zone of Nasty moves. Depending on the boss, it could grow, shrink, follow a player, follow the boss, alternate between areas of the map, whatever. Some bosses might have multiple different Zones of Nasty that move in different ways and do different things.

There are other ways to force movement besides a moving AoE, such as punishing players for being too close or too far from each other or the boss.

The general principle here is that a boss should at times force suboptimal play: optimal play involves simply standing around, spending all your actions on damaging the boss, and it's incredibly boring from a strategic standpoint. There should be turns in which your players have to spend their action economy on protecting themselves or helping their allies. If they find themselves in a Zone of Nasty, it should force a decision between suffering the consequences to continue optimal play, or spending resources to get out of it.

Our boy Ozyas had a Cancer Field that he could move slowly around the arena that damaged and debuffed PCs inside it, and Pretender-God-Piercing Strike, a telegraphed line attack that oneshot anything that stayed in its area too long (more on this one later).

KEEP THEM WORKING Everyone needs a job to do! This job is probably just going to be based on what their class and abilities encourage them to do, but it sucks for someone to not be able to meaningfully participate in a boss fight.

Let the DPS players kick the boss's teeth in, obviously, but make sure the person who focused on AoE effects has some extra enemies that they can deal with. Bonus points if the extra enemies have something that forces them to be dealt with instead of just rushing the boss' HP bar.

Worst case scenario, throw in a secondary objective like completing a ritual, controlling a point on the map, or fighting the boss' soul on a higher plane to give someone who isn't immediately needed for DPS to still have something to do.

Ozyas spawned a bunch of extra monsters from these gross Birthing Pillars around the map, and killing the monsters and destroying the pillars provided a nice secondary course of action for people either not equipped to slug it out with the boss or not currently positioned right to fight him.

KEEP THINGS CHANGING The tarrasque sucks because it does one thing over and over until it works or it dies. The Theros splatbook improved on this marginally: Mythic Traits are fucking baller! Combats should change over the course of the fight, or this could have been a fucking autobattler. But we can go further.

In addition to occasionally shaking things up based on health thresholds, here's a few ways I like to do it:

Rotating list of effects that change every round

Huge list of options the boss can choose from for one of their effects with no repeats

Some sort of meter that increases and decreases based on what's happening in the fight and modifies the boss' abilities

Ozyas summoned new monsters every round and could customize the statblocks with a bunch of quick templates I whipped together, and in his second phase he started alternating between scaling the to hit/damage of his tentacle attack, the reach of his spear attack, and applying extra buffs to his summons.

REWARD GOOD PLAY These next two kind of tie together but the core idea here is that it's okay if a boss is a bit easy, as long as it makes your players work for it.

This can include things like ways to trivialize certain parts of the encounter as long as the players utilize them, typically at the cost of advancing other parts of the fight.

I knew that Ozyas was going to be a long fight, so I gave my players the ability to heal to full health, as an action, whenever they wanted. They were fighting inside Ozyas' body, and he was a generous host. However, any time they healed, he would be healed for the same amount. They got around this restriction by hitting him with Chill Touch to disable his own healing whenever people needed to heal, but that obviously had the cost of losing two actions' worth of damage output.

Towards the end of the fight, everyone was still standing thanks to that healing, but as he began to infinitely scale his stats once he reached his second phase and started taking them seriously, they couldn't afford to waste turns healing anymore and the safety net they built up by healing earlier in the fight kept anyone in the party from dying.

PUNISH MISTAKES The range on D&D characters' HP pools and general survivability can be pretty broad. I like to give my bosses a reasonably-heavy hitting melee and some sort of light ranged attack to remind the backliners that they too can die. But there's a third kind of attack.

The great equalizer.

The One Hit Knock Out move.

These need to be telegraphed. There needs to be copious time to get out of the area, or to stop the boss from using it, or whatever the case may be. But any superboss should have a way to threaten any player on equal standing: a move that will always hit if its conditions are met, and puts them clean to 0.

Ozyas' OHKO was Pretender-God-Piercing Strike, where at the end of each turn he would wind up a spear thrust with enough range to hit across the entire map, targeting a 15-foot line through the nearest player. Neither he nor the line could move after that, and if you were still in that line at the start of his next turn, you were done.

It wasn't hard to avoid: just walk like 10 feet and don't get pushed back in by another enemy. They even lined it up to target some of his own allies sometimes. But it forced them to think about positioning and stay moving, and there were a few times where it aaaaalmost caught someone in the line. The prospect of Instant Death really does wonders to ratchet up the tension.

And now, finally, we come to the most important part:

MAKE IT A GAME D&D 5e likes to jerk off while fantasizing about being real. "Catherine what the fuck are you talking about?" What I mean to say is that D&D makes a fumbling attempt towards a more simulationist style of game, trying to distance itself from the fact that it is, in fact, a game. It tries to comport itself like reality, such that every part of its combat makes sense in-universe, and then immediately falls short because it can't be assed to indulge in actual simulationism.

It is my belief that if you're going to spend 4 hours fighting a boss, and one of the boss mechanics doesn't really make much sense as an in-universe concept but does make the boss more interesting and fun to fight, then that's a perfectly fine mechanic. Obviously finding some way to justify it is preferable, but my bosses prioritize good gameplay over verisimilitude.

The upcoming boss in my campaign has a feature which puts the fight on a ten-round time limit before he begins kicking substantially more ass than he was before (and the prior ass-kickery was indeed already substantial). If this is a desperate fight with his life and his dreams on the line, why doesn't he open with that? If this were a WOTC statblock, barring a mythic trait, that's exactly how it would work. But fuck that, because it would make the fight way less interesting! Now there's time pressure! And sure, the post-round-ten version of the boss is meant to be fled from, not fought, but if he's at a low enough HP it could instead make for an insane climactic finish!

I let my players see the whole statblock before the fight. We talk through all of its abilities, and I'll even point out some of the potential points of complexity and the big risks to watch out for. There's no in-universe justification for why the characters would know this (beyond, perhaps "you're exceptional adventurers and are good at evaluating your foes"): in fact, one of the quintessential examples of classical 5e metagaming is the Guy Who's Read the Monster Manual. I think that's fucking stupid, though. With open statblocks:

Features can be game-warpingly deadly without instantly incurring a TPK born of ignorance. OHKO moves don't feel fair unless the counterplay is known

The players can strategize around the ways in which the boss is going to change throughout the fight

It's fundamentally fair. Some GMs just wait X turns and then let the boss go down when it takes a big, impressive hit (and I fully respect people who do that! That's still more compelling boss design than 5e's normal schlock), but I personally like when numbers have meanings.

You can still hide some information (I like to black out the boss' Mythic Trait, and then only use it if the players stomp the fight too easily), and you can still tweak it to adjust the difficulty, with the difference being that your players know it's being adjusted and how so (which again comes back to my feelings of fairness).

A few other fun mechanics to toss in include stacking debuffs that trigger something horrible at some certain threshold, additional win conditions or lose conditions, and silly little minigames. One trick I particularly enjoy is having my players secretly vote between two or more bad outcomes, and punishing them even more if the vote is tied.

CONCLUSION Your mileage may vary, but I'm hoping at least some of the insights here were useful to you! I have a particular strain of undiagnosed mental illnesses that make me especially predisposed towards piloting huge convoluted intricate bosses with 1k+ word statblocks, and I'm lucky enough to have players who know their shit well enough to play around this bullshit. Find something that works for you and your players.

If you hate 5e combat and think this sounds like way too much work to be worth doing, go play something else, like Pathfinder or Lancer or (heaven forbid) a game that actually struggles to trace its lineage of inspiration back to D&D. Go to itch.io and find some game no one's ever played before, and toss the creator a bit of money. The only way we're making it out of these goddamn Mines of Phandelver is if people try something new from time to time.

On the subject of cool games with cool combat, bear with me as I shill for a friend real quick. If you want a game that cares less about combat as an abstract dick measuring contest and more about combat as a facet of violence and all that that entails, check out [BXLLET> by @rathayibacter.

And, finally, from the bottom of my heart, fuck WOTC. Your books aren't even worth pirating, and the Tarrasque can blow me.

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kurishiri · 2 months ago

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Christmas messages (2024)

Harrison, Alfons, Darius, Nica, Ring

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— thank you to @.shatcey for providing a screenshot to harrison’s card ‪‪❤︎‬ also, i know @.judesmoonbeauty and @.cheshireliam did nica and ring respectively already, i’m just sticking them in here too to practice. i wish you all a very merry christmas, friends!

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝚈 🦊

It’s pretty clear to me how you were restless for some days now.

I could tell too that you were thinking about this and that.

Oh, and that you were talking about me in your sleep: “Please be honest, at least for Christmas.”

——And I will grant that wish. Tonight, I will speak no lie.

So, I intend to become your special Santa.

…Whether it’s a lie or a truth, you can find that out for yourself tonight. I’ll be picking you up.

𝙰𝙻𝙵𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝚂𝚈𝙻𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙰 🪞

Christmas…is the time of year when everyone participates in festivities in a mood of merry and cheer, I presume.

Dear me, did I miss the mark?

Even if you tell me it’s a holy day, I can’t help but think it’s like a whole other world to me.

That said, if you teach me veeery thoroughly, perhaps I may come to understand.

…Why, of course, in bed.

𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙸𝚄𝚂 𝚅𝙾𝙶𝙴𝙻 🪽

Merry Christmas, miss fairytale keeper.

I happen to quite enjoy Christmas myself. After all, it’s only on Christmas when humans stop all those wars and worthless power struggles, isn’t it.

So that’s why, to me, it’s the one and only day of salvation.

…Well? Do you think what I said was the truth or nothing but empty words?

If you want to know, I suppose you’ve no choice but to spend Christmas with me, isn’t that right.

I look forward to seeing you running right over.

𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙰 𝚂𝙲𝙷𝚆𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚉 🍒

Frohe Weihnachten!

You weren’t expecting a Christmas message from me, weren’t you? I just happen to have been raised very well, so such a greeting wouldn’t slip by me.

And with that, since you’ve accepted this Christmas card in the end, how about you come and give your thanks in person.

Ahaha, what’s with that, I really won’t do anything.

Well, unless you want me to, that is, then I would be more than happy.

Come over quickly, Spatzi.

𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙲𝙷𝚆𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚉 💍

Sorry for this sudden letter.

When I realized today was Christmas, I realized I had something I wanted to say to you, no matter what, so I wrote a letter.

…Um…Merry Christmas.

Santa Claus has never come to my place, but I’m sure he would go to yours, seeing you’re really kind.

So, if it’s okay, please do tell me in secret what face Santa Claus made.

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

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thewritetofreespeech · 9 months ago

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Gale x Tav

words: 1613

rating: E

pairing: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

summary: part ii of the previous Gale x Tav work. (part i part iii)

tags: magic sex (literally. but also metaphorically), heterosexual sex, f/m, slight voyeurism, Gale still using magic for naughty reasons

To say it was hard to focus the rest of the day was an understatement.

Not only were you still reeling from what Gale had done earlier, you were also now looking forward to tonight when he would do it again.

Once classes were over, and the day done, you went home immediately. You ate a small dinner, which you weren’t hungry for with your stomach in knots, but Gale would be disappointed if you didn’t eat. You took a bath. Then you laid naked in bed waiting for the fun to start. The two of you hadn’t set a time. So, you anxiously waited to start feeling the now familiar touch on your clit and body from Gale’s ring.

You weren’t sure if it had been a while or blink of time, your anticipation making it hard to get an accurate read on an internal clock, but eventually the sensations started. You let out a sigh as you sunk deeper into the soft bedding.

Now that you knew what was going on, and you were alone, you were able to enjoy it fully. Letting your body go with the feeling. Uninhabitable moaning. Touching parts of your body that the ring wasn’t linked to. Your mouth gasped open as you cupped your breasts and played with your nipple. Pleasure building as you writhed on the bed for your phantom lover.

“Gods above….”

Your eyes snap open at the sound of that hushed exclamation. Sitting up on your elbows and seeing Gale there in the doorway. In the flesh. His own eyes on you with this look of dumbfounded stupor and lust. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the summit.”

“I left early.” He told you. Crossing over the threshold now and into the room. “There was only one more day, and it was boring anyhow, so I told them I had to return home. Because my wife needed me.” You bite your lips and draw your knees closer together, as you feel a warm pull in the pit of your stomach. Technically, he didn’t lie. Oh, how you needed him.

Gale was by the bed quickly and was already out of most of the buttons on his shirt by the time he was there. “I see my new present works. Do you like it?”

“It’s certainly…stimulating.” You reply in a cheeky manner. Gale returns your smirk and touched the stone on his ring again. The reaction instantaneous as you moan to the feeling. Somehow more intense and arousing with him in the room.

“I’ll say. It certainly was stimulating watching you enjoy it earlier today through my minds eye.” The wizard climbed on the bed and on top of you with an uncharacteristic amount of grace for a wizard. His eye, normally warm and a soft brown, burning with desire only for you. “I had to come back and see it for myself.”

Your arms wrap around Gale’s neck and pull him down for a kiss. Unable to wait any longer. The kiss was hungry. Passionate. The build up was one thing, but now that Gale was here, it was like an inferno had been lit inside you. You don’t think Karlach and her infernal engine could burn as hot as you did right now for your husband.

Gale returned your fire wholeheartedly. It was a surprise. The former chosen was by no means apathetic in bed, but he usually liked to take things slow. Be patient. Capture and build on the moment. Make sure everything was done thoroughly and properly before you both exhaled in ecstasy and calling it a night. Now, however, he was like a man consumed with fervor. The distance and almost 8 hours of foreplay ‘til now, if you counted the anticipation from this afternoon until now, seemed to have its effect on Gale as well.

He fumbled with his trousers as he tried to get out of them but not break the kiss. Eventually, he realized that was impossible, and let out a curse as he pulled back from you to get them off. “Such language, professor.”

Gale smirked at you. Immediately back on top of you once he was free. “You’re one to talk. I heard you earlier, and just now. Nearly as bad as that foul mouth pixie.” Hardly, you want to tell him. But Gale was shifting his weight above you and pulled off his ring before handing it to you. “Here. Put it on.” He was already slipping the ring onto your finger by the time he finished asking. The band only able to fit on your thumb with the size difference in your fingers. “I want you to use it while I make love to you. Feel the full effect of its magic while I’m inside you.”

Your mind lets out a guttural moan at the suggestion, but your lips stay closed as you examine the ring. It was a thrilling idea. To be, in part, the master of your own pleasure. Hesitantly you touch the ruby red stone on the ring and feel a surge of sensation rush from your center and up your spine. This time, you do indeed moan.

“Gods above…it is better in person….” Gale’s attention seemed fixed on your face, fascinated by it, as he brought up a hand to caress your cheek.

Your eyes open, and you have to assume your eyes are as black as the darkness of Shar. “Are you going to just stay there and stare at me?” Your head lances up, out of his grasp, to give him a biting kiss. “Or are you going to fuck me?”

There was a low growl from Gale. Though he was usually a man who didn’t appreciate vulgar words in his immense vocabulary, in bed was the only place he tolerated them. Judging by the twitch of his cock against your inner thigh, he more than just tolerated them.

Never one to disappoint a request from his lover, Gale moved to position himself between your legs and slid in. You were so wet from earlier, and the anticipation of finally getting a hard cock inside you, that there was little resistance as he pushed in. You moan eagerly. Though the Mage Hands earlier today had been nice they were nothing compared to the firm feel of your husband inside you. “Gods you’re so hard….”

“You’re not the only one in need, my love.”

He began to thrust. Slow and deep inside you. Sweet words of how much he missed you this week fall from that skilled tongue. You reciprocate his feelings but are too tightly wound to respond. So you just babble.

His thrusting increases and you feel like you’re on the edge of a great void. Been on the edge of some great void. Yet you can’t jump off of it. You reach of Gale’s ring still on your finger from he behind his head, your legs and arms wrapped tight around his back, and start to rub. A cry came out of your mouth as it was more intense than before, but you were surprised to hear Gale cry out as well.

“Hells…I can feel it….” His hip movements become erratic as he thrust deeper and faster into you. Seeming to want to get closer to the sensation. “I never expected….this is an unexpected turn of events….Oh Gods…is this what it’s been like for you?”

You want to tell him yes but you’re too lost in ecstasy to say anything coherent. The magic from Gale’s ring teasing your clit. His hard cock plunging into your body. Hands on your breasts and body so much so that you wonder if he had in fact called Mage Hands back into play. Still you were just on that precipice. Until you toppled over it not with a step but violent push. Your body & mind racked with waves of pleasure that batter you like a ship as your hands cling to the bedding to make sure you weren’t swept away in its current.

Gale continues until you fall back to the bed like jelly, and he collapses on top of you. Clearly having splendidly finished as well.

After a moment to catch your breath, Gale rolled over beside you to his side. Then with a tired, limp hand he reached over to remove his ring. Placing it safely on the nightstand where it wouldn’t be bumped and cause anymore trouble. “That was amazing.”

“It certainly was.” You agree as you curl up beside him.

“You were amazing. I had no idea when I created this that it would…well…be so…” It was amusing to watch Gale stumble over his words on the topic. Like he hadn’t just aggressively fucked you into the mattress like a mad man. Like he hadn’t come up with the idea for his ring all on his own. “Well I think the word ‘stimulating’ was used earlier, and that certainly hit the spot.”

“You certainly did.”

You giggle at Gale’s flustered expression. Still finding the shift from Gale 30 seconds ago to now utterly amusing. And in all honesty, incredibly hot. You lean up to give him a kiss before your tired bones give out and call you back to the bed. “Let’s get some sleep. We can certainly do more ‘experimenting’ tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Gale doesn’t respond. But you can see the grin out of the corner of your eye before the close with desire for sleep. He lifted his hand and waved it in the air. A blanket carefully draping over you to magically tuck you in. Magic was certainly helpful for so many things.

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conditioned-to-obey · 8 months ago

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I found your blog today and absolutely love it, perfect mix of in-character debauchery and baseline of respect for yourself/others (people are not kink dispensers) and that makes my kinkster heart happy, besides all the yummy posts you write…I looked through thoroughly-pat yourself on the back!! though I definitely didn’t edge, the most fun to imagining what happens when rules are broken- haha I’m just teasing. Have an awesome you sick mfer 💕💕💕

I appreciate it, doll. I am indeed a sucker for some good ol' debauchery and baseline respect.

Just as my Father did when he caught me smoking cigarettes and told me if I wanted one so bad then I could smoke the entire pack. And made me do so in one sitting. I employ a similar approach at times when dumb mutts misbehave.

"If you want to cum so badly, then you're going to cum. Over and over and over again. Until you're sick of it and I decide you've had enough."

However, it's not as a punishment or a deterrent. My pup enjoys overstim. Maybe a little too much... Takes quite a few orgasms to achieve it as well, her body churns them out like a Shein production factory with little to no damper on her energy output. A tiny, orgasm sweatshop of a girl, really. Quite a sight to behold.

But just like my father forcing me to chainsmoke a whole pack did not make a lick of difference to deter me from becoming the heavy smoker I am today. My little pup always seems to prove she is the spitting image of myself. Totting along behind me. Placing tiny adorable paw prints in my stead of much larger bootprints. So as it were, in true Atlas fashion, aversion therapy doesn't do much to change the stubborn little things mind about doing it again. Not that I'd want it to.

I greatly enjoy rubbing her nose in her mess afterward.

#atlas shrugs #abuse k1nk #edging and denial #edging kink #chastity tease #hard k1nk #bd/sm kink #degrade and humiliate me #goonette #dumb slvt #puppy slvt #puppy sub #dumb puppy #dumbification

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demonslayedher · 2 months ago

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You might recall I made a comic about Tanjiro's most dastardly Taisho Secret being that he adds charcoal as a secret ingredient in his rice.

EDIT: Please note that charcoal itself is indigestible, and Japanese charcoal is cooked to a very high level of purity. Please do not randomly stuff for lighting a barbecue into your rice, as I cannot make any claims about how safe that stuff is.

@reicchel remembered the aforementioned comic, and when we saw bamboo charcoal being sold with this advertised purpose, she gave me a look that said she wasn't going to let me get away with not putting it to the test. After all, I am kind of passionate about Japanese charcoal and its cultural implications, as well as how that gets used in Kimetsu no Yaiba (see here and here and here). I also usually only bother cooking if I'm doing a Kimetsu Kitchen thing (the posts specifically about the characters' favorite foods are here, but everything KnY-food related is in the tag.)

I have had no chance to even open the package of bamboo charcoal until now. This is partly because I have been busy out of my brains with work and partly because I hate cooking and am therefore loathe to add even one more step. However, this was the easiest Kimetsu Kitchen experiment I've ever done.

Bamboo charcoal is often sold as a natural dehumidifier, odor absorber, and bug-repellent to throw in your cabinets and stuff, but this was sold as clean enough for using in rice cookers and jugs of water for making mineral water (which I haven't done yet, seeing as I was too lazy to even open the package until today).

Speaking of today, I was having Mugen Ressha feels so I decided to recreate Tanjiro's dream meal, which happened to include Rengoku's favorite, satsuma-imo miso soup. That's become one of my favorite Kimetsu Kitchen recipes, though I haven't made it for a while, because I am lazy and busy. I do make a lot of miso soup because once you open a container of miso you have to use it really consistently to have any chance of using it all up, but satsuma-imo miso takes a little extra time and effort to get the potatoes all nice and soft, so lately I just through in some tororo konbu (Iguro's favorite food). I also picked up some nice big yellow takuan to make it closer to the Mugen Ressha meal, and since I was experimenting with bamboo charcoal and Takeo has bamboo in his name, might as well as what dream!Takeo likes to snag from big bro.

So anyway, the charcoal!rice got done.

Since I'm been so busy with work, that means I am in the habit of slamming food quickly instead of taking the time to enjoy it, so I'm just eating quick and easy and not especially enticing food while distracting myself with YouTube videos. This evening, after doing more weekend work, cleaning up the kitchen so I could set up the above photo, and putting aside leftovers, I was pleased with the photo result but then automatically went back to the YouTube video I had been semi-watching as I sat down and started putting food in my mouth without pausing to consider saying something like "itadakimasu."

But then I paused--

----what had I put in my mouth?

Why was it... so heavenly????????

Like, I legit froze with my chopsticks in the air as I started chewing that first little bite of white rice. It was exactly as I had Tanjiro describe it in that silly piece of fanart: "The natural minerals in the charcoal act on the rice to make it soft and fluffy."

Softest, fluffiest rice I've ever had, easily. But it's also exactly as the other Corp members cannot help but exclaim--how is it so freaking good!?

So like... I took my time with that meal. I chewed, slowly, thoroughly, like you're supposed to. The takuan and satsuma-imo miso soup likewise tasted simple and wonderful. It was best while the rice was warm, and I don't know how my leftovers will taste tomorrow, but I'm looking forward to it.

And I'm gonna make some mineral water too. The charcoal enthusiasts sure were not kidding about this rice.

#Kimetsu Kitchen #charcoal #I guess I too am a charcoal enthusiast #even if I don't actually do much with it or have much

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omagpies · 4 months ago

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since today is a magpie lore day apparently, i feel like oversharing (ya kno, what counts for oversharing for this guy on this here microblogging patform)

when i was very small, i accidentally caught a movie on my grandparents' tv. i was banished to the country house for the summer and bored out of my mind, so i spent my days disappearing into the forest, drawing, reading, and sneaking bits of tv time when no one was there to catch me

anyway. the movie. i remembered very little of it afterwards, just that it had body horror practical effects(?), snakes(?) and small shriveled heads with teeth(?). i was especially afraid of the small shriveled heads, but the body horror was very difficult to stomach too.

i had nightmares for weeks (and couldn't tell anyone why, of course, or that i was even having them, because then i would be Found Out), and even after it more or less left me i would still get jumpscared by the sudden memory of it years into my life.

as i was very young and my memory was very spotty, i couldn't figure out for years what the movie was. i thought, maybe if i could, then i would watch it and find out that it's not that bad at all, right?

(i'm a huge weenie when it comes to horror movies. i can't even watch most thrillers because they are too scary for me. i nearly fled the theater while watching 'i, legend', which was the only time i almost left the movies, that's how bad it is for me lmao)

a few years ago i finally found out what it was. it was beetlejuice (1988). from sporadic screengrabs and general vibes i connected the dots. so that's problem solved, right? i can just watch it and be done with it, right? right?

WRONG

i absolutely cannot watch it. i even tried going for a 'everything great about' video for beetlejuice and failed at minute 4 out of 20 because a jumpscare send me into an anxiety attack. when i was at dragoncon earlier this year, there was so much beetlejuice-related extravaganza and so many cosplayers that i was bombarded with the accursed green-black-white combo almost anywhere i went. it was! an experience! made all the more ironic since i spent most of my time there cosplaying as fizzarolli -- you know, the guy who shares an actor with broadway's beetlejuice, alex brightman

so like. at this moment, the most involved i can get with beetlejuice is looping the same two clips of the musical on youtube and! thoroughly enjoying myself! because alex brightman is fun! he makes it fun! it isn't scary! but underneath all that...the horrors lurk, pinging my buried childhood memories, and the sense of unease doesn't leave me.

i live in a state of both anxiety and utter fascination with beetlejuice. i want to watch the movie so badly, but it terrifies me like no piece of media has terrified me before or since. and yet i can't stop thinking about it and trying to scoot closer. it's my fucking moby dick. striped and with green hair. god damn it

#might delete later idk #beetlejuice #idk what can be done here #but if anyone has advice on how to watch the most terrifying piece of media in someone's personal history #feel free to share ig

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raptorish · 6 months ago

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On Sapience, Longing, and the Lack Thereof

Written by Max on August 12th, 2024.

So I was at Othercon 2024 this past weekend - and like many who attended, I came out the other side with a new piece of my identity to chew over. This essay is me chewing over my thoughts on archaeosapience, as it connects to my velociraptor paleotheriotype, and why I genuinely don’t feel like I fit the label.

One of the panels I attended and thoroughly enjoyed was “Not Humans, Still People: How Inhumanity Interacts with Personhood,” by Goratrix bani Tremere of the Draconic Wizard Workshop and Chaiya Askari-Vykos of the Treehouse System. During the panel, Goratrix and Chaiya argue that personhood is different from humanity, defining personhood as, essentially, sapience - the ability to understand oneself, to make rational choices, to comprehend the world in not only physical ways, but also the abstract and symbolic. All humans are people, but not all people are humans - nonhuman personhood is experienced by many, many alterhumans, and this is an important distinction to keep in mind.

Another panel I adored, presented by Sivaan of Candlekeep, was “Archaeosapience: To Awaken as Ancient in a Modern Age,” in which he discusses the label and the intricacies of his own experience as an archaeosapien. Once again, nonhuman sapience is a key feature here - as Sivaan writes in xyr coining essay, “[t]he “sapience” in archaeosapience exclusively refers to our awareness of our existence as ancient beings,” as opposed to an inherent connection with the species Homo sapiens. Archaeosapience does not require one to be human.

An archaeosapien is defined as “an individual whose alterhuman or nonhuman identity is intrinsically rooted in prehistory, antiquity or mythic accounts of history.” And funnily enough, here lies my personal disconnect with the term, even though I identify as a velociraptor - a prehistoric animal well known to be extinct. To experience archaeosapience requires personhood, requires sapience, an understanding of oneself as an ancient being. And this is one thing that my theriotype utterly lacks.

Now, I’m not saying that I lack sapience. I am a person, one who reads and writes and learns about the world around me. I also identify as human, separate but intertwined with my personhood, and my humanity is as important to me as my animality. Both of these core parts of myself contribute to where I stand today - as a prehistoric animal person who is, somehow, completely at home in modernity.

Throughout this essay, I’m going to refer to my raptor self in the third person - it thinks this, it wants that. I separate myself from my theriotype in this way because I do not feel like I’m myself in a mental shift. My raptorial mind is not a person, but an animal. It is incapable of understanding abstract concepts or philosophical thought, living in the physical world where it gets food, water, rest, shelter, and enrichment. This does not make it any lesser than my sapient mind - it does mean that it has a different way of understanding the world.

My raptor brain, the instinctual animal side, does not feel like it’s an animal from another era. It doesn’t even know what time is, beyond the regular cycles of day and night. It doesn’t understand common features of modern human society, like computers or elevators or money - not because those things didn’t exist back in prehistoric Asia, 75 million years ago, but because it’s an animal. I could be a gecko from the modern day and still feel the same mentally shifted apathy and confusion about the things I need to live day to day as a human being. The raptor doesn’t know or care about its status as a long-extinct relic, because as far as it’s concerned, it is alive and well, healthy and fed and comfortable in a house with people it knows.

In fact, my raptor brain doesn’t even feel attached to a habitat. Early on in my awakening, as someone who knows where velociraptors used to live in the spacetime continuum, I felt a sort of connection with deserts - I’d look at them and think, that’s like the place my species lived! This was the part of me who’s a person, putting a label to a place that I’ve never been, thinking fondly of it despite never having lived there.

The part of me that’s not a person, that knows nothing but pavement and grass and many-walled shelters keeping out the wind, looks at the desert and bristles with distaste. It doesn’t like the idea of being somewhere it doesn’t know, with sand and scorching sun and no food it knows how to catch. It knows its home territory, a place with cooling wooden floorboards and a comfortable nest of mattress and blankets and a cache of good food that never runs out, and it likes its territory. It doesn’t like the desert or understand the significance of it. It can’t comprehend the idea of wilderness enough to miss it. It doesn’t want to be wild and free, it wants to live in a building with air conditioning and clean freshwater from the sink.

As you can see, my raptor self is perfectly content to be a modern animal. How about my human self, the part of me that can think about my theriotype and know that it’s a prehistoric animal? Do I long for ancient deserts, grieve and yearn for a world I never experienced because I know it might have once been home?

Well… no. I don’t. For better or worse, my humanity feels inexorably linked to modernity, to cities, to technology. I can’t go anywhere or do anything without running into electronics. I use the internet every day of my life to learn, entertain, engage with the world around me. I couldn’t imagine living a life where I didn’t have it. There’s no disconnect from the modern day for me, no longing for the past - only the sense that I’m right where I want to be.

As a person, I’m content with where I am today. As an animal, a raptor can’t yearn for a time it has never lived.

#archaeosapien #paleotherian #therian #alterhuman #otherkin #personal essay #max talks

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ticklerjay · 3 months ago

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here’s some short footage from a session between @simpleeswitchy and myself! just a minute of our session that lasted a few hours!

she was a fantastic lee and i had the best time ever tickling her throughout the session (and getting thoroughly wrecked in mario kart beforehand). based on my blog, you can probably tell i’m more of a feet guy, but today i truly understood the greatness of tummy tickling. i couldn’t keep my hands off of her bellybutton, and she couldn’t stop giggling. her laughter was so contagious that i couldn’t help but to laugh along (im a silly jovial guy cut me some slack) but there was a fair amount of teasing as well, i am a ler afterall!

i apologize, i know my camerawork is absolute TRASH (im studying music not cinematography, give me a break) but i tried my best.

overall, i had tons of fun, it was an amazing session, and more importantly i made a brand new friend in the community which is all i really want! hope you guys enjoy! 🥺

#tickling #ler mood #tickle #tickle community #tickle session #session content #bellybuttons rule #bellybutton tickling #tummy tickling

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biteofcherry · 1 month ago

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Happy Wetnessday 💦

I hope you're doing well.

This Wetnessday you're a professor in professor Rogers universe. Since he is already taken (sorry) you fall into a romance with another professor.

Who is he? What does he teach? How did you meet? How is your dynamic? Does he make you forget about Professor Rogers?

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

Hi Wetnessday Anon! 🩷

Now that was cruel. Not because you took away Steve, I would be only pouty about that. But you said I'm in professor Rogers' universe AND THEN took him away! That's like hanging a delicious, stuffed chocolate bar in front of me and then taking it away 😤

But fiiine, fiiiine, I will find myself another hot professor to erase the pout from my face.

I could go for the welcoming, flirty and approachable professor Ari. He's so hot and such a sunshine, it's so easy to be around him and with him 🥹🫠 I really should go for him.

But there's something wrong with me today, because I crave mean professor Andy 😳🫣 I blame it on all the evil pixies drowning me in awful Andy content last year. Professor Andy isn't a crazy psycho, but he is very mean and degrading in the hottest way.

He is admired and described as a hardass, but a fair one. He can be a bit moody, but students forgive him the more demanding lectures, because he also carries passionate and fun ones.

Andy is a law professor and as such you shouldn't have a lot of common with him when you start working at the university, since you teach a different faculty. You'd probably only meet in passing and spend some time at the official parties.

However, he's the one the dean introduces you to first, simply because you bumped into him on your tour after signing the contract.

Andy wasn't in a welcoming mood at all, but he still offered a smile and a warm if short greeting. Though his face shifted into cloudy annoyance when the dean got a phone call and without previous agreement he sort of dumped you onto Andy to show you around.

And he's not happy about it.

No, he's not in rush, but he's not much interested in playing a babysitter for the Ice Queen. And he says as much, readjusting his cufflinks.

Your spine hardens into steel at the mention of the nickname you've been given by colleagues in the past.

Because you don't enjoy getting wasted after the conferences, because you refused quite a few flings, because you focus on keeping to yourself and allegedly reported a romance at your past job (you didn't, but that fucker Ransom still thinks it's because of you that he had to break it off with the student; he's the one who gave you the nickname and a snide remark that you were jealous of him not wanting to touch your frigid ass).

"I may be the Ice Queen, but you're an asshole." You tilt your chin and give him a freezing look.

"Someone should play with your asshole to loosen you up."

There should be retort at the tip of your tongue. You're already forming it. But for a second your brain stumbles in attaching the right wires into right spots, instead igniting with the image of Andy's velvety voice cooing at you as his fingers scissor that tight hole.

"Ah!" A dark spark ignites in his blue eyes at your pause.

"Is that it, Ice Queen?" He takes a step into your personal space and you make the mistake of taking a step back. Which he follows, backing you against the wall as he taunts:

"Do you need to be used thoroughly like a needy slut, so that your brilliant, calculating brain switches off and you melt into a puddle?"

"Stop it." You huff, trying to glare at him. But you can't hide the shortening of your breath as Andy presses even closer.

"No, I don't think I will." He chuckles and it's a scarily seductive sound that heats your blood. "And I think you will love it when I keep pushing... and ruining... and filling your holes."

#wetnessdayanon #reply #andy barber x you #professor!andy barber #mean andy barber #andy barber imagine

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avenreir · 14 days ago

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Lonesome Dreams | Outer Wilds Tribute | Base game & DLC (EotE) spoilers

calling all 12 outer wilds fans /j dinner is served ! I hope this is as exciting and engaging as I wanted it to be :) I love Outer Wilds deeply, but I have such a hard time drawing art for it, so... why not go into the game myself and make an edit? Outer Wilds has always meant so much to me. When it came out, I didn't really have any good space games that encapsulated what I felt nor were they as engaging. Outer Wilds sparked my autism like no other and I sit here today in my room with an Outer Wilds desk mat, pin, shirt, and a sticker with "Outer Wilds Ventures" slapped right on my telescope, where I look at the stars. Usually, I go outside to stargaze as the music plays in my headphones. We need more games like Outer Wilds and honestly, if you haven't played it already but like space, you should. Not to mention the community seems very close and very welcoming.

proud autism spreader as i've bought this game and the dlc for 3 separate friends and they've enjoyed it thoroughly so far :) the mobius team should totally recognize me for funding their stuff /j

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official-wonho · 23 days ago

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Yesterday, Today, And Tomorrow: In Conversation With Wonho

The K-Pop icon's passion for communication...

Simply put, Wonho embodies duality. His velveteen voice, disarming smile, and onstage charisma come together to form a two-fold artistic presence. Equal parts alluring and comforting, it is something that feels distinctly Wonho.

The night has only just begun as Wonho takes the stage as the second act of Detroit, Michigan’s IHeartRadio Jingle Ball. But while he paints the stage with precise choreography and fills the space with dulcet vocals, all eyes are on him. His dualistic artistry lends something magnetic to his performance, something that thoroughly charms both fans and spectators alike.

These days, it’s a busy life for this charmer. As soon as Wonho was discharged from the military last September, he hit the ground running. Two performances in Seoul; an appearance at a K-pop festival in Mexico City; and most recently, an eventful trip around the USA. For Wonho, the better part of December was spent traversing the United States. He split his time between his very first American solo tour, and a run of appearances at the massive Jingle Ball tour, sharing a stage with big names such as Jason Derulo, Madison Beer. and NCT Dream.

Throughout his stint in the United States, Wonho promoted his latest release, ‘What Would You Do?’ an English track imbued with heartbreak. Much like Wonho himself, the track has been met with warm reception from fans and non-fans alike.

Shortly after leaving the stage, the sound of Detroit’s raucous cheers still roaring behind him, Wonho met with CLASH backstage at Little Caesars Arena for some exclusive portraits and a chat.

—

So you’re back, and you’ve been busy. You had your fan party in Seoul, performed in Mexico, and now you’re on your first United States solo tour. How has everything been going?

Wonho: I’ve been busy, but it’s fine. I’m so happy. My fans make me happy.

You’ve also been performing at some dates of the Jingle Ball tour. Because the crowds at Jingle Ball are mixed with many fans of different artists, how has that experience been, versus performing at your own shows?

W: For my fans, at my own shows, I like to show a lot of different things and focus a lot on interacting with each other. At things like Jingle Ball, I like to show more of my original self and who I am. Not that it’s very different from one another. Here, though, I saw that the fans were enjoying it and having a fun time. I saw that there were NCT fans in the crowd who were enjoying it as well, so I’m very grateful.

What sort of feeling do you want to leave your fans or attendees with after seeing a Wonho show?

W: I want the time that we spend together, the emotions, and the time we share, to be something that fans can really focus and concentrate on. I want it to be something where (in the future), even if there is similar weather, they will be reminded of that good memory.

What is your favorite song of yours to perform, and why?

W: Today, my favourite to perform was ‘Ain’t About You’. The choreography has a lot of freedom. It doesn’t matter if I move to the left, to the right, we just play and let the energy flow.

In addition to your fans, Wenee, what do you love most about performing?

W: This is the work that I love. I think it’s a similar feeling to when someone creates or designs something, and they’re just about to unveil it. It’s a very exciting feeling. When I prepare different performances and songs, that excitement of showing it off to people is something that I love.

You’ve just released a new song, the English single ‘What Would You Do?’. Could you tell us a bit about that song?

W: This is my first try at an R&B song, so I put a lot of emotion into it. It’s a song that I think shows more of myself, and shows off more of my vocals. As soon as I first listened to it, I liked it.

—

How would you describe your music to someone who has never listened to it before?

W: A good question, but very difficult to say. I think it might feel like homework to describe my music. Going forward, I would like to show instead of telling, by releasing a lot of good songs. My goal is for someone to get to know me through my music.

Looking back into the past, was there a particular moment that you realized you wanted to be an artist?

W: There was never a specific moment where I felt like this was what I wanted to do. Moreso, it was as if the world and my circumstances shaped me into the artist that I am today.

And moving forward, what are some things you’d like to try that you haven’t yet, musically?

W: I would like to try a rock genre, but to be honest, it doesn’t really matter what I’m trying. I just want to try new and different things. For example, when doing a softer track, I incorporated a lot of drill elements. I don’t want to be confined to a genre – I just want to make new and good music.

What does the future look like for you? What do you want to accomplish, whether that be as an artist, or as a person?

W: To be honest, I don’t really think about the future. I usually think about three things: Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. The things I do today will help prepare for tomorrow, and I try to improve from the regrets of yesterday. It might be kind of cliche, but I always try to be better today than yesterday. I’m working on my album for 2025, and I want to continue showing new and better sides of myself through that album.

Any final notes you would like to share?

W: I will be releasing my new album in February or March…maybe? I’ll work hard to prepare. Until then, please show a lot of love to ‘What Would You Do?’.

—

via: clashmusic.com

#wonho #250124 #t: interview #clash music #era: what would you do

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dystopicjumpsuit · 2 months ago

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A/N: I heard through the grapevine that @cw80831’s birthday is today! Happy birthday, my dear, and thank you for being such a lovely presence in the fandom. It’s a better, warmer, and more welcoming place because you’re part of it. ❤️🖤❤️🖤

Pairing: Hunter x Reader (GN)

Rating: T (regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 1.7K

Warnings and tags: fluff; shameless self-indulgence

Summary: Having a birthday on Life Day Eve isn’t always everything it’s cracked up to be, but this year, Hunter is planning to change that.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: Nemat Vanilla Musk (birthday cake for two)

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“They’re back,” Crosshair said.

Hunter glanced to the top of Pabu, but no ship sat on the landing pad. “Where?”

Crosshair nodded toward the horizon. It was several seconds before Hunter was able to make out the speck of the approaching vessel. It was no Marauder, but it got them from point aurek to point besh, and, as Phee had pointed out, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“She’s getting better,” Crosshair commented. “Still don’t want her flying on her own.”

“Over my rotting corpse,” Hunter agreed. He picked up his comlink and signaled the ship. “Havoc One to Havoc Five. Status report.”

“Mission success,” Omega’s voice crackled happily. “ETA four minutes. Race you to the top?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll see you soon. Hunter out.”

Omega and Wrecker were fairly vibrating with excitement as they stepped off the ship, and Omega darted across the landing platform to fling her arms around Hunter’s waist. She was growing fast, and she nearly knocked the wind out of him—not that he would admit it. She’d always be his kid, no matter how tall she got.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Perfect! We got everything set up, just like we planned,” she replied with a beaming smile.

“Got enough provisions stashed for a whole week!” Wrecker added.

“We won’t be gone that long,” Hunter replied. “Just a couple of nights. Back in time for Life Day.”

“Best get going, then,” Crosshair observed. “Unless you fancy navigating in the dark.”

When you stepped into the wavespeeder, you had no idea where Hunter was taking you. All he would say was that you should plan to be away for a few nights, and pack a few changes of clothes. Very mysterious, and he missed no opportunity to torment you with tiny clues that ultimately revealed nothing.

It was a beautiful day on Pabu: clear skies and a light breeze, but still warm enough for a comfortable trip to… wherever he was taking you. He’d put in effort, that much was clear. The boat had been thoroughly cleaned and set up with cushions and throw blankets to ensure you were comfortable during the trip, and he’d packed a picnic as well, which made you suspect you’d be on the water for some time. He navigated out of Pabu’s harbor and into open ocean.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going, or are you going to make me revel in the suspense until we arrive?” you asked.

“I thought you hated spoilers,” he replied with a grin.

“In holovids! In life, I like to prepare myself.”

“Don’t worry, I made sure everything is prepared. Just relax and enjoy the ride, and let somebody else take care of you for a change.”

“Easier said than done,” you replied, but you leaned back against the cushions and let the tension drain from your shoulders as you basked in the sunshine.

The trip was uneventful, and you spent a pleasant couple of hours talking and laughing quietly with Hunter, enjoying the temperate weather. On your home planet, Life Day—and thus your birthday—had often been accompanied by absolutely miserable weather, but the celebration fell in spring on the island, and barring the occasional late storm, the holiday was nearly always tranquil and beautiful.

At last, you spotted a dot on the horizon, and it grew steadily larger, until the boat approached another island. It was smaller than Pabu, and densely forested, but you could see a few small buildings set along the cliff that ran along the edge of the island. Hunter steered the boat to a small dock, tied it off, and helped you out.

“Where are we?” you asked, gazing around at the lovely surroundings.

“Not sure this island has a name,” Hunter mused. “It’s mostly fishing huts. I don’t think anyone lives here permanently.”

Huts. Oof, not sure I like the sound of that.

“It’s beautiful,” you said truthfully, diplomatically avoiding the question of accommodations.

He lifted the bags out of the boat and slung them over his shoulder, then took you by the hand. “Come on. It’s a bit of a hike up the hill, but I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

And indeed, it was worth the hike. The forest was thick and lush, shading you from the afternoon sun that had begun to beat down uncomfortably in the increasingly humid air. This island smelled different from Pabu—wilder, somehow; rich and loamy and green. The trail wound its way up the hillside and through the trees until quite suddenly, the forest opened into a clearing with an expansive view of the ocean, glittering and serene. At the edge of the cliff stood a small round building, constructed in the same method as the homes on Pabu.

“That’s a bit nicer than a fishing hut,” you laughed in relief.

He smiled. “Didn’t want to oversell it and disappoint you. Besides, the owner really does stay in it when she comes fishing here.”

“Well, I’m definitely not disappointed! That view alone is worth a million credits.”

He turned to admire the view, and a small frown creased his brows. “Don’t like the look of that horizon.”

Your eyes followed his gaze, but whatever he could see with his enhanced senses wasn’t visible to your normal human eyes. It just looked like a beautiful, placid ocean and a clear sky that was rapidly approaching sunset.

“What is it?”

He shrugged. “Probably nothing. Shall we go inside?”

He led you across the clearing and unlocked the door of the hut, then held it open for you. You stepped inside and gasped quietly. It was small. Really small. Like the homes on Pabu, it was round, but unlike those homes, this had only a single room: an open living area, a tiny kitchenette, and a bed pushed against the back wall. There was one door, which you assumed led to a fresher, but aside from that, you could see the entire building at a glance.

Despite its humble size, though, the little home was exceedingly cozy, and it was made even more so by the decorations. Ropes of fairy lights had been draped around the entire room, and dozens of colorful creatures made of folded paper had been strung on fishing line and hung around the room. The bed was piled high with pillows and covered in a vibrant patchwork quilt that looked suspiciously familiar. The overall effect was vibrant and warm, and it was obvious that somebody had put a significant amount of thought and effort into decorating the hut.

On the table sat a bottle of jellyfruit juice in a bucket of ice, along with a pair of drinking glasses, and your heart squeezed a bit in your chest. Omega’s favorite.

“Do you like it?” Hunter asked softly, resting his chin on your shoulder as he stood behind you.

You nodded and squeezed his hand. “Omega?”

“And Wrecker,” he confirmed.

“This was their ‘top secret mission’ this morning, wasn’t it?” you asked. “The one that you and Crosshair were so eager to NOT talk about?”

“Mm-hmm. Those three have been folding origami avians for weeks.”

Unexpected tears stung your eyes. “Why? Why go to so much trouble?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips against your temple. “Because we care about you.”

“You didn’t have to,” you said with a frankly embarrassing little sniffle. “It’s almost Life Day, and I know—”

“—that the holiday overshadows your birthday almost every year?” he cut in. “That you’re so busy taking care of other people that you forget to think about yourself?”

Your protest died on your lips, because you had to acknowledge his point, and honestly, you didn’t even know what to say. Instead, you just turned around and buried your face against his neck as his arms wrapped around you in a strong, comforting hug.

“You deserve to be celebrated,” he murmured, rubbing his warm hand between your shoulder blades. “And that’s exactly what we’re here to do.”

You ate dinner with him on a blanket spread out at the top of the cliff, admiring the sunset. The air had become thick with humidity and uncomfortably warm, but just as you were finishing your meal, the temperature dropped abruptly. The wind picked up, and as Hunter had predicted, a thick bank of clouds had rolled in. Just as you were gathering up the dishes and stuffing the throw blanket into your picnic basket, the first raindrops began to fall. The pair of you scurried inside the hut, laughing as you dashed through the sudden downpour.

Inside, it was warm and dry, and your favorite record was playing from a tiny portable speaker on the kitchen table. He deposited the dishes in the sink, then took you by the hand and pulled you close, swaying slowly to the music.

“I can’t remember the last time I went dancing,” you sighed happily, reaching up to brush the glittering raindrops out of his curls.

“Maybe we should plan to do that more often, then.” He spun you around, and when he pulled you close again, he rested his lips against your forehead and inhaled softly. “I love the way you smell.”

“Like a drowned lothrat who just spent the day in a fishing boat?”

He chuckled quietly. “Like home.”

“You really need to stop saying things like that, or I’m just going to cry nonstop for the whole trip.”

“We can’t have that.” He nuzzled the side of your head gently.

As the storm broke over the island, the forest roared and shuddered in the wind, but safely inside the hut, warm and dry, you swayed in Hunter’s arms as soft laughter and hushed words gave way to breathless gasps and the whisper of lips against skin.

Three days later

“Havoc Three to Havoc One. Come in, Hunter.”

Hunter reached for his comlink, careful not to disturb you as you lay curled in the nook of his body, fast asleep.

“Go ahead, Wrecker,” he replied quietly.

“Am I glad to hear you! Storm knocked out our comms. You all right out there?”

He glanced down at your sleeping face, and a soft smile flitted across his lips. “Yeah. We’re all right.”

“Need a pickup? Might… few… ‘fore the rain lets up.” The transmission was garbled and intermittent, but he understood the gist of it.

He considered for a moment, idly tracing his fingertips down the bare skin of your back before he replied. “No, I think we’ll stay put.”

“Wha… say. You sure… ssing Life Day?”

Hunter laughed quietly and shifted to pull you more securely into his arms. “Life Day can wait. Some things are more important.”

---

Want more Hunter? I have first kiss fluff and Life Day smut!

#tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter bad batch #the bad batch #star wars #dystopicjumpsuit writes #scheduled

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