#I might need a tag for these if i keep doing them

[smutoperator]

Leg Day

An Yujin, Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Tags: 69, A2M, anal, anal fingering, ass to pussy, ball sucking, cheating, crazy riding, creampie, doggy, facesitting, fucking and licking, gym, leg lifting, long legs, oral train, pussy eating, sloppy blowjobs, squats, squirting, threesome, thighjob, workout

Word count: 5581

You have just started your new job at the gym. Yet, your first task would be managing the training of some of its most VIP clients. As you entered the most private room of the installation, you found yourself alongside two tall girls with long legs.

"Hi," Yujin greeted you. You must be the new instructor," she said. Today is my friend and I's leg day. I hope you can get them very fit and toned," she continued. "Nice to meet you," Wonyoung was next. Let's start. Can you please bring some extra weight for me to push with my long legs?" she asked.

"Sure," you tell Wonyoung. Watching these two beautiful long-legged girls can be very distracting at times, but you keep your composure, it's the first day at your job and you need it. But as they exercise, they keep throwing some smiles and smirking at you.

"Let's cool down a bit," you say as you watch the girls push really hard and get really sweaty doing their leg pressing. "Cool down? I'm just warming up," Wonyoung answers you.

"Can you please bring my bottle to me?" Wonyoung asks you gently. It's very close to her you feel she could take it herself, but you decide not to upset her as she's a very VIP client of the gym.

"You're so handsome," Yujin tells you. "Thank you," you answer her as she blushes. Both girls continue doing their exercises. Wonyoung gets up from the leg presser and starts doing squats, Yujin laughing as she films her friend doing it.

"Girls, can you please stay focused?" you ask them as you suddenly ruin their fun, telling them what exercises they should actually do. "Come on, we pay a lot for this training, we should do whatever we want," Yujin tells you in a very bratty manner. "That's not how it works," you answer her.

Yujin and Wonyoung laugh. "No, baby, here we tell you how things work," Wonyoung says as both girls pull your pants down in one go, leaving the bottom of your body exposed. "Nice cock you got in there, would you mind if we suck it?" Yujin asks.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT, IS THIS SOME KIND OF PRANK?" you angrily scream at both girls, covering your intimate parts in a hurry? "We know this is your first day in this job," Wonyoung says. "So if you want to keep it, you should do what we tell you, including letting us use that big fat cock," Yujin continues.

"All right, but please, make sure my boss doesn't know about it," you tell them. "Well, we are your bosses now," Yujin answers as she locks the room's door and pumps up the music to the maximum. "Now, can you show the monster between your legs?" Wonyoung asks. "Sure," you answer her.

You uncover your hands from your cock, drawing awes from both Yujin and Wonyoung as she looked at your manhood. "Might be the best we've got in this room so far, and we've got some big ones before," Yujin says. Both girls quickly get on their knees and lick your shaft from the side, their sexy tongues running all over its length, them moving fast right from the get cock.

Wonyoung is the first of the two to take it on her throat, soon making loud noises as she sloppily chokes on your dick. "Such nice cock you have for us today," Yujin says, following her young groupmate and diving for your balls. Both girls then take turns switching their positions, each one taking some good time to enjoy your big cock.

Yujin helps you quickly get fully naked, while she pulls her tight shirt to the side and takes her pants off, showing you her perky tits up top and exposing her thicc thighs and toned ass at the bottom. "Look at this slut, already taking everything off," Wonyoung says as she follows her unnie's lead, but taking her top off instead, exposing her perky little tits and cute torso, leaving just her sneakers and shorts on as both girls keep sharing your cock.

"Lay down, let us handle that big fat cock," Yujin commands, pushing you in the direction of the floor as both girls surround you ready to suck more of that big fat pole. Yujin opens the works with a little spit on your shaft, Wonyoung already sticking her tongue out like a snake ready to bite her prey.

Yujin takes your cock in her mouth first, bobbing her head hard on it before she passes it to Wonyoung. The girls engage in a crazy competition to see who can suck your cock the fastest and the loudest, giving you very sloppy blowjobs. Wonyoung takes on your tip while Yujin runs her mouth all over your shaft. "Fuck yeah," is all you can say, holding yourself not to blow your load in their pretty faces.

"Let's spit all over this dick," Wonyoung commands as she lets Yujin now move her mouth fast all over it. "Oh yeah, put it deep in that throat," you tell Yujin, who quickly obliges, pushing your throbbing cock deeper and deeper into her mouth, Wonyoung watching and smiling as her friend gags all over your cock.

"That's right, just like that," Wonyoung says to Yujin as she finishes deepthroating your cock, so addicted she keeps your cock glued to her mouth even after it. "Keep going," Wonyoung tells her as she stretches Yujin's mouth. "Fit it all in," she says.

Wonyoung takes your cock next, going from the kill right from the start. "Take it all the way down," Yujin orders to her as Wonyoung gets sloppier and sloppier trying to deepthroat that long and thick meat. Like everything in her life, lucky Vicky easily succeeds, saliva running down her mouth as she then follows it taking on your balls and letting Yujin handle your shaft by herself.

"Take on those balls," you command to Wonyoung, who sucks them like crazy, before moving up and taking more turns on your shaft. "Such a naughty boy, cheating on your girlfriend on Valentine's Day," Wonyoung says, noticing the ring on your finger before diving back on your pole. "She's so fucking good sucking that cock," Yujin praises Wonyoung, who gets louder and louder sucking that shaft, making you glad they turned up the music and didn't let all that noise get out of the room.

"There you fucking go, such a hungry slut, leave some for me," Yujin says to Wonyoung as she tries to match her young friend's high intensity. You love those girls' attitudes, sensing the healthy competition building between them to see who's the best cocksucker, each one ramping up the intensity after the other girl finishes her turn.

"Choke on that cock, keep going," Wonyoung pushes Yujin to her limit as she spits all over your cock. "Oh that's so nice," you say as both girls take turns popping your cock in and out of their mouths and spit all over the tip. "So fucking yummy," Yujin says.

But Wonyoung just seems to be on a different rotation, deepthroating your cock again with ease. Lucky Vicky turns you into the luckiest guy in the world, as you're able to see her blossom into a full-fledged cockslut in front of your eyes, asking for more and more of that fat pole the more she takes it. "She is so good at it, isn't she?" Yujin asks as Wonyoung puts you on the edge, her deepthroat making your legs shake nonstop as you use all four forces not to pop in that beautiful sexy mouth of hers.

Yujin just moves to the side as she watches Wonyoung give you a mind-blowing blowjob. You thought your girlfriend was really good at sucking your cock, but now she's going to look tame compared to what Wonyoung does to it, submitting it fully to her control and not sparing a single inch from her fast-paced licking and sucking, showing she's a world-class talent in everything she does.

The next two minutes are by far the longest of your lives. Wonyoung just does everything she wants to your cock, spitting, sucking, throating, drooling all over it like crazy, turning your shaft into a throbbing mess full of her saliva.

Wonyoung finishes her turn with a crazy deepthroat as Yujin shoves her head against your cok. "Choke on that fucking cock," Yujin tells her, as Wonyoung decides to be unselfish, letting Yujin handle your cock as both of you get on your knees, sharing kisses as you taste her cock-filled mouth while Yujin bobs her head on your shaft on all fours. Suck that cock for us," Wonyoung tells her.

Wonyoung lines up behind Yujin, eating her friend's pussy while she chokes on your cock, forming a sexy oral train. Yujin moans as Wonyoung perfectly tongue her cunt, but it gets muffled as your big shaft stretches her mouth out.

"AHHHHH YEAH, YEAH. FUCK MY MOUTH AND EAT MY PUSSY, OH MY GOD," Yujin screams as she's pleased by both sides. You push your cock up her face as Wonyoung grabs her friend's hair. "That's right, fuck her mouth," she tells you, burying her face between Yujin's fat ass cheeks, shaking them left and right while her friend salivates all over your cock.

"Are you ready to see the gates of heaven?" Wonyoung asks you as she sits in one of the gym's equipment and pulls her shorts to the side, exposing her beautiful pink pussy. Yujin quickly kneels and starts eating it out. "You like what you see? Then get over here." Wonyoung commands as she pushes you in her direction.

"I know you want a taste of that pussy, everybody does," Wonyoung tells you, showcasing her self-confidence as you dive your head right into her pussy. "Is it better than your girlfriend's? Ahhhhhh" Wonyoung asks as she starts moaning.

Wonyoung can't hide how ecstatic she is, moving her hips and grinding on your face as you eat her pussy. "Does it taste good?" she asks you as you share kisses with Yujin, both their mouths now full of her pussy. "Looks like it tastes very good by the way you are kissing her," Wonyoung says as Yujin and you lick it together. "OH MY GOD," Wonyoung suddenly moans as you and Yujin start eating her pussy together. "So fucking sweet," Yujin says.

"Are you ready for that pussy to squeeze that big fat cock?" Wonyoung asks you as she strokes your cock, teasing it close to her entrance before she slowly drives it into her pussy. "Put that cock nice and slow, AHHHHH," she suddenly screams as your thick length gets inside her, closing her eyes as she slowly descends down it.

"Such a fucking big cock, OH MY GOD," Wonyoung tells you. But quickly, she shows why she's one of the best, bouncing on it with ease despite your massive length. "OH FUCK," she moans, squatting on your cock. "Fuck his big cock just like that," Yujin incentivizes her.

As soon as Yujin says those words, Wonyoung quickly flips a switch. You soon get introduced to her insane riding, her moving her hips in a very fast-paced manner and spinning on your cock as she moans loudly. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she freely screams with her doll voice, knowing that no one will be able to hear it. "That's so fucking hot," Yujin says as Wonyoung picks up even more speed, riding you like an Amazon while Yujin spanks her cute ass.

"Use that fucking cock," Yujin commands to Wonyoung as she keeps performing powerful bounces on your cock, tilting her body forward to eat Yujin's pussy as her friend sits her fat ass in your face. "FUCK, YES, YES, YES, AHHHH," she loudly screams again, Yujin smiling as she enjoys her friend being a cockslut. "Bounce all over his cock, cum all over it," Yujin commands.

The room is quickly filled with tons of screaming and moaning. "I'm gonna rub this pussy all over your mouth, baby boy," Yujin says as she grinds on your face while Wonyoung keeps spinning hard on your cock, before following it with hard squats that make loud sounds as her butt hits your hips. "This is such good exercise, FUCK," she says, enjoying using your body as an absorber to her squatting.

"I'M GONNA CUM," Wonyoung announces as she squirts all over your cock, Yujin quickly comes in and takes it in her mouth as soon as Wonyoung pulls it out of her pussy. "Your fucking pussy tastes so good," Yujin says as she lets Wonyoung choke on your cock as well.

"Girls, come here," you tell Yujin and Wonyoung, who comes first and lies on top of the gym equipment, with Yujin then stacking on top of her. You spread Yujin's long legs and put your cock in her pussy, Wonyoung's pretty face all over your shaft and balls. "FUCK IT'S SUCH A BIG COCK, HOLY SHIT," Yujin says as she rolls her eyes.

"FUCK, THAT COCK STRETCHES ME OUT SO GOOD," Yujin says as you split her cunt in half, pounding her hard as your balls clap against her big ass and swing all over Wonyoung's face. "That's right, let him use that pussy," Wonyoung tells her.

"USE THAT FUCKING PUSSY, USE THAT TIGHT LITTLE FUCKHOLE, AHHHH, AHHHH" Yujin begs as Wonyoung tongues her clit and you grope her tits. Her tight pussy leads you to feed your cock to Wonyoung, letting her get it wetter for you to reach deeper in her cunt. "OHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Yujin screams as you give her big ass some nice spanks, Wonyoung now with her tongue fully out in her friend's cunt.

"Eat her pussy," you command to Yujin, who tilts her body down as she and Wonyoung 69 each other while you drill the older girl's meaty cunt. "FUCK," Yujin keeps screaming as you spank her ass nonstop, clinging to licking Wonyoung's pussy as you stretch her out. "OH, THAT FEELS SO GOOD IN MY PUSSY," Yujin moans as she fingers Wonyoung's wet pussy, raising up so Wonyoung can do the same.

"FUCK, YOU'RE SO DEEP, I CAN FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING STOMACH," Yujin tells you as Wounyoung reaches to lick her friend's belly as if she was licking your cock bulging under it. "KEEP GOING BABY, USE THAT FUCKING PUSSY, I LOVE THIS COCK SO MUCH," Yujin continues.

"Put it in my butt too," Yujin begs. "Ohhh, I'd love watching that big fat cock up my friend's ass," Wonyoung says. "AHHHHHHH," Yujin screams and rolls her eyes as you anally penetrate her. "OH SHIT, IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD IN MY BUTT," she tells you as your cock tries to dig deeper in her tight asshole, Wonyoung increasing the speed of her lickings as well.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, AH, AH, AH, AH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH" Yujin can't stop moaning as she gets anally drilled. "DON'T STOP BABY, YES, FUCK THAT ASS HARD," she begs, Wonyoung smiling under her, especially when you give her your cock to taste her best friend's dirty butthole. Yujin presses her tits against Wonyoung's tall body while she eats her friend's pussy, trying to cope with your long and fat cock stretching her tiny anus. "AHHHHH, IT'S SO FUCKING AMAZING, FUCK," she screams.

"Cum, cum, cum for me all over that cock," Wonyoung tells Yujin. "FUCK, FUCK, I'M CUMMING," Yujin says as her long legs shake and she bursts all over Wonyoung's face. "Fuck yeah, so tasty," Wonyoung says, using her mouth to suck all the juices from it. "Your turn Yujinie, take all that cock, take it all in your fucking throat," Wonyoung tells her as Yujin gets on her knees, her younger friend quickly grabbing her head and shoving it against your shaft.

"That's right, fucking take it," Wonyoung says. "He loves that so much," Yujin says as she gags on your cock. " What a lucky day. That's so fucking unreal, having both of you suck my cock like that," you say to the girls as they move to the side of your shaft and lick it together. "Get up," you tell Wonyoung, sharing kisses with her while Yujin stays on her knees sucking that cock. "Oh yeah, so good, I love watching it," you tell her.

"Now it's your turn to get up," you tell Yujin as you start sucking her perky tits, leaving Wonyoung alone to bob her head on your throbbing shaft. "Your thighs are so fucking sexy," you tell Yujin while you touch her ass and play with her boobs.

"Come here, let me do something," you instruct Yujin, sliding your big fat cock between her honey thighs. Wonyoung immediately dives her face at Yujin's bottom as your cock starts humping and rubbing against her friend's legs. Wonyoung quickly understands her assignment, not letting your tip breathe, sucking it as it pops out of Yujin's thicc lower body.

You pick up the speed, humping your cock hard against Yujin's thicc thighs. "Perfect, just like that," you tell her, hugging Yujin's body hard up top while Wonyoung hugs your cock hard with her mouth at the bottom.

"Suck that cock," you tell Wonyoung as you spread Yujin's cheeks, giving her friend a larger chunk of your shaft to take in her mouth. "Oh fuck, what a good cockslut," you say as you fuck Wonyoung's face and Yujin's thighs at the same time, pumping harder than ever as both girls moan sexily.

"Get on all fours on the floor," you tell both Yujin and Wonyoung as they grab a pair of gym mats for themselves. "FUCKKKKK," Wonyoung quickly gets shocked as you unseriously shove your cock up her ass. "Fuck, that shit is so tight," you tell her, struggling to fit your thick cock in her little butthole.

But you won't give up so easily, taking your time on Wonyoung's pussy while you stretch her little asshole out with your thumb. "Yes, baby, shove it in my ass," she tells you. Yujin bounces her butt in anticipation and thumbs her own asshole as you drill Wonyoung's pussy.

You switch to Yujin's pussy next, Wonyoung giving you a helping hand as she now fingers her friend's butthole. "That feels so good," Yujin says enjoying the massage your cock and Wonyoung's fingers provide her. You kiss Wonyoung and choke her neck as you switch to Yujin's asshole. "Spread it open," you tell Wonyoung.

"OH FUCK, THAT'S SO FUCKING AMAZING," Yujin screams as you pound her ass. "Just thrust like your life depends on it," Wonyoung says, smiling as she watches her friend get her asshole stretched out. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," Yujin begs, you switching from her ass to her pussy nonstop, letting Wonyoung taste your cock once you're done. "My friend tastes so dirty, that's the flavor of a nasty slut," Wonyoung says.

You turn your attention back to Wonyoung as you stretch her pussy out, making her sexily moan. "Good girl," you tell her, giving a spank to Wony's ass and then switching back to her butt. "AHHHHHH," she screams again, shocked by your size, but as soon as she adjusts, takes it like a champion. "GOD THAT'S SUCH A BIG FUCKING COCK," she tells you.

"Then let me push it deeper," you tell Wonyoung as her asshole winks begging for it. You finally manage to break the resistance, taking it all the way up her ass. "YES, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams. "I still remember when you weren't that into anal," Yujin says. "Now you taking 10-inch monsters up that ass, no wonder you've been doing so many glute workouts lately," she continues.

"OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung keeps moaning hard as you choke her and print the shape of your cock in her now stretched butthole. You switch back and forth between her and Yujin, drilling their asses as hard as you can. "OH YES, OH YES, FUCK THAT BUTT," Yujin moans. Wonyoung grabs your cock, adding the right amount of saliva for you to fuck her best friend. "PUSH IT HARDER IN MY ASS, FUCK YEAH," Yujin begs.

You switch back to Yujin's pussy a bit, but she's so overwhelmed she soon squirts. "FUCKKKKK," Yujin screams as her juices flow into the gym mat. You grab Wonyoung's princess head, shoving your cock unceremoniously in her mouth and stuffing her face hard. "Taste those fucking juices, bitch," you tell her, Wonyoung rolling her eyes as you turn her mouth into your cocksleeve.

"I love watching you fuck her ass," Wonyoung tells you. "How about I fuck that pussy a little more?" you ask her, putting Wonyoung back on all fours and pounding her cunt from behind, Yujin coming in to massage her friend's butthole. "OH FUCKKKK," Wonyoung moans, Yujin ready to taste her pussy at all moments and providing you the right amount of spit for you to drill it. "HMMMM, HMMMM, HMMM," Wonyoung moans, Yujin now with her filthy hands all over her clit as well.

Yujin grabs your cock and pushes in Wonyoung's ass direction again, spreading her best friend's cheeks. "Look at her, taking this workout like a champion," Yujin says as you stretch Wonyoung's butthole hard while Yujin takes care of her pussy. "AHHHH, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams.

"Let's do some squats, work those glutes," Wonyoung says as she drops you to the floor and starts spinning her ass on your cock. "Fucking wear this ass out," she begs, rotating all over your cock. Yujin sits on your face as Wonyoung starts bouncing her ass on your cock. "YEAHHHHH," Wonyoung screams, Wonyoung watching her best friend turning into an anal whore. "That's so hot, working that fucking cock," Yujin commands.

Wonyoung grinds her ass on your cock while Yujin suffocates you with her pussy. "I LOVE THAT GIANT COCK IN MY BUTT," the younger girl says, using you as her personal workout machine, moving her hips fast and doing straight squats on your cock while Yujin squirts on your face and you grope her tits. "OH YEAH, FUCK," Wonyoung moans as she bounces on your cock.

You couldn't feel much better now as you savor Yujin's pussy. Wonyoung is so excited she almost falls down riding your cock, switching into an anal reverse cowgirl position and filling the room with loud moans. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she keeps repeating. Yujin tries to match Wonyoung's ride, doing squats in your face with her pussy. Your legs tremble, Wonyoung's tight asshole working your cock out at a really fast pace as she enjoys her anal workout, holding into one of the supports in the room.

You keep yourself entertained with Yujin's tits and pussy as Wonyoung keeps using your cock like a piece of workout equipment, moving her ass up and down it faster than ever. "Let me squat on it too," Yujin asks as the girl switch positions, Yujin taking your cock in her pussy and spreading her legs while you eat Wonyoung's heavenly cunt, the two girls sharing sexy stares with each other, Wonyoung laughing as you finger her clit and tongue her pussy.

Yujin picks up the speed, moving on your cock sideways and spinning on it while you put Wonyoung on the verge of cumming, her legs shaking with the clit massage you give her. "FUCK," both girls scream together, Yujin making good work of your pole while you make good work of Wony's little clit. "DON'T STOP, YOUR TONGUE AND CLIT FEEL SO FUCKING GOOD, I'M GONNA CUM," Wonyoung says as she squirts all over your face.

Yujin bends over and starts sucking your cock, Wonyoung getting behind her and eating her best friend's ass as she bobs her head on your cock and tests her body stretching capabilities. You push Yujin's head against your shaft and pump your cock up her mouth, making it as hard as possible for her not to gag on it as she tries to resist the pressure you put in her mouth. "Yes, baby, gag on that cock," you tell her, Wonyoung coming right beside her to suck your balls.

But Yujin manages to resist, taking control and bouncing her face on your cock with ease. "Put it back in my pussy," she says, getting on all fours again on the gym mat.

"PLEASE, I WANT TO FEEL IT IN MY STOMACH, AHHHH" Yujin pleads as you stick your cock back in her cunt, enjoying the bulge it creates under her belly. Wonyoung adds some spit. "I fucking love it," Yujin says. "Show me how good you take it," Wonyoung says. "I want to take this cock deep in my pussy like a good fucking whore," Yujin says as she moans. "That's right," Wonyoung compliments her.

You and Wonyoung share kisses as you turn Yujin into a cocksleeve. "FUCK," the puppy girl screams as Wonyoung spanks her ass. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Yujin keeps begging as her pussy gets more and more stretched out. "I WANT MORE, I WANT MORE," Yujin begs. "Such a good girl taking that big fat cock," Wonyoung tells her.

"It's so deep, isn't it, tell me how deep it is inside you?" Wonyoung asks Yujin. "ALL THE WAY IN MY FUCKING STOMACH," she answers. "Does that little pussy feel good gripping on that cock?" Wonyoung asks you. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, oh my god," Yujin moans as Wonyoung spreads her ass, before moving in her direction to kiss her. "So good," Yujin says. "Such a good cocksleeve," Wonyoung tells her.

"YES POUND ME, BABY, POUND ME, DROP THAT FUCKING COCK IN ME" Yujin begs as she rests her head on Wonyoung's tits. "AHHHH, YEAH, YEAH, WRECK MY FUCKING PUSSY," she begs as she sucks Wony's boobs. "Look how much she likes that cock," Wonyoung says to you. "I'M GONNA CUM," Yujin says, rubbing Wonyoung's pussy and moving her hips hard against your cock. "You feel that pussy cumming? Creaming all over your fucking cock? That's right" Wonyoung says as Yujin squirts on your dick.

Yujin quickly shoves you back on the floor, then bends over and deepthroating your cock. Wonyoung lines behind her, grinding her pussy against her friend's fukholes while Yujin chokes on your dick. "OH YEAH RUB MY PUSSY," Yujin begs as she spits all over your cock before she starts squatting on it with her fat ass. Wonyoung stays behind her, gripping her mouth all over your balls as Yujin's big butt hits her pretty face at each squat.

"OH THAT COCK IS AMAZING DEEP IN MY ASS," Yujin screams as she bounces all over it. "OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she keeps moaning, you reaching her hands to grope her bouncy boobs, Wonyoung remains glued to your balls, Yujin humping her ass all over that cock, before doing some more acrobatic sucking and running towards one of the room's pieces of equipment and clinging herself onto it.

"Bounce that ass on that cock, come on, be a good girl," Wonyoung tells Yujin as she pushes her friend's body down your cock. "YEAH, YEAH," Yujin screams. Wonyoung "Look how well she knows how to work on that cock," Wonyoung says as she keeps pushing Yujin to squat harder on it, making loud noises as her fat cheeks clap against your hips. "Yes, perfect, grind on that cock, keep taking it" WOnyoung keeps incentivizing Yujin with a big smile on her face.

"Come fuck me here," Yujin commands. You quickly follow, lifting one of her long, thicc legs and putting your cock back in her pussy. Wonyoung slides under both your bodies, reaching to eat her friend's pussy. "Oh, that's so good, ahhhh, fuck," Yujin moans as your cock stretches her cunt and Wonyoung tongues it. Wonyoung then moves and grabs Yujin's tits, sucking them as you rail her cunt, Yujin trying to stay up in just one leg. "FUCK, YES, YES, YES, I WANT MORE, I WANT MORE" she screams.

"Put it back in my ass," Yujin commands and you quickly oblige, stretching her asshole out as Wonyoung keeps playing with her bouncy boobs and kissing her friend. "Fuck her harder, make those tits bounce, use her ass" Wonyoung instructs you as you give Yujin the perfect anal workout, stretching her legs up in the air. "YEAH, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT, IT'S SO FUCKING DEEP IN ME" Yujin screams.

You put Yujin back on the ground, fucking her ass from behind as Wonyoung helps spank her friend's but. "FUCK, THAT'S SO FUCKING PERFECT, YESSS," Yujin screams as she starts running out of steam, you eventually pulling out of her ass. Wonyoung is there immediately to impale her face in your big rod, tasting her friend's dirty and sweaty asshole straight from it, jerking your cock off hard, and savoring it to perfection.

"It's my turn now, I want that cock to myself, give it to me," Wonyoung says as she takes Yujin's place, spreading her right leg wide as you get ready to put your cock in her ass. "That's right, spit all over that fucking cock," she tells Yujin as she wets your cock before it goes up Wony's butt. "OH FUCK, THAT'S BIG," she says, always surprised with your size no matter how many times it goes in her ass.

"I want you to rub that ass on my face while he fucks me," Wonyoung commands to Yujin, who promptly obliges, grinding her butt all over Wonyoung's pretty face as your hard thrusts push it against Yujin's ass. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams as she clings to Yujin's ass. "That's right, that's right, stretch that fucking ass," she begs, reaching to finger Yujin's clit and thumb her asshole.

But Wonyoung is no pushover, as she starts moving her hips to meet your cock thrusting up her ass. "SO FUCKING DEEP, I LOVE IT," she says. You slow down as Yujin moves into Wonyoung's pussy and licks it now. "OHHHHH, FUCK THAT FEELS GOOD" Wonyoung moans as her best friend intensely tongues her folds.

"GIVE ME ALL, GIVE ME ALL," Wonyoung begs as you pound her asshole into oblivion, Yujin staying glued to her pussy. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she moans louder than ever, both of you teaming up on her for maximum pleasure, "YES, STRETCH ME OPEN, STRETCH ME OPEN, FUCKKKK, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Wonyoung turns into a screaming mess, using all her strength to cope with your hard thrusts up her backdoor.

"Put it in my pussy and don't pull out until you fill that up, you understand?" Wonyoung asks you as you switch between her holes. Yujin fingers Wonyoung's little clit, making her squeeze your cock even harder as she prepares to make you cum at any instant.

"Fucking use me, use me, OH FUCK, AHHHH, JUST LIKE THAT, DON'T FUCKING STOP, MAKE MY PUSSY CUM" Wonyoung begs. "Drill that slutty pussy," Yujin orders as you have your sights fully fixated on filling Wonyoung at any second.

"Fuck her hard, fuck her hard," Yujin commands as you attack Wonyoung's pissy. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, TAKE THAT COCK DEEP INSIDE ME" Wonyoung screams louder than ever as you clap her cheeks hard. "That's so fucking hot," Yujin says, tapping her friend's ass.

"Fill me up, fill me up with your cum, I want you to cum for me" Wonyoung begs. Yujin tongues your shaft hard as you drill Wonyoung's tight cunt, not sparing a single inch of it. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, FUCK," Wonyoung screams as her walls clench hard over your cock, her smiling sensing you're getting closer.

You grab Wonyoung's body and pound her harder than ever. "Please, baby, fill that pussy with your cum," she continues to beg, you giving her faster and faster thrusts, her legs fully spread over the equipment, shaking harder than ever. You accidentally put your cock in her ass after it pushes out of her pussy, before switching it back. "Cum inside me, cum inside me, please, please, please, YES, YES, YES" Wonyoung continues to beg.

"AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," you start groaning as you pump your seeds deep inside Wonyoung's pink pussy. You just couldn't believe it, but you were filling Korea's it girl to the brim. As your cock pops out of it, Yujin is right there to lick her friend's dripping cunt, tasting your cum from it. "It tastes like cherry," Yujin says as the flavor of your cum and of Wonyoung's pussy mix with each other.

You look and admire Yujin eating Wonyoung's pussy out as both girls kiss each other and swap your cum. "Oh my God, this was the best day of my life," you tell them. "I don't think your girlfriend can do that," Wonyoung says as you three lie on the floor and talk to each other.

Yujin and Wonyoung smile as they do a few squats while naked, laughing and giggling a lot. "Are we doing it right, baby?" Yujin asks you. "Definitely," you answer them.

You three get your clothes back on as you go back to your regular work and Yujin and Wonyoung leave the VIP room. "We won't be at the gym again this week, lots of performances coming up, do you want to watch one of our music show performances this week?" Wonyoung asks.

"Sure," you answer her.

"Good, I can't wait for us to have sex backstage," Yujin says as both girls leave the room.

A bonus fic for ya. I could no longer resist writing an Annyeongz smut and their fit legs as of lately gave me the perfect excuse.

[ramblingandpie]

[Image description: screencap of tags reading #so many thoughts about the notes here

#i'm just gonna say that the civil servants i know who are just trying

to make society work are often begging for more people to opine

#there are secure white people with nothing better to do who spend

all their time making their opinions heard

#just to feel alive

#i cant guarantee anything but i know there are people in

government who would want to help your voice be heard

#if only you knew who to speak to

#so start saying what it is you need to say to everybody you might

possibly need to say it to

#and get better at saying it #and make your thoughts known

#because there are people who your thoughts matter to

#yes even in a red state

#i don't in any way believe the way our government works is ideal but

you need to use the tools that are available to you to make life bette

#civil and otherwise.

End description.]

This particular civil servant would love if folks would use alt text.

And also, yes, please send in feedback. We want to know. We need to know. Sometimes I know something is An Problem but unless people complain I am not allocated resources to fix Yon Problemme. We literally keep binders of program feedback sorted by topic. We use them to make our plans and agendas of what to work on and where to allocate resources.

We care!! We want the program to go smoothly!! And! If you're like "oh but this is a minor problem" we may genuinely have no idea!! Typically, the people who are doing the regulatory work and procedure updates and such? Are NOT the frontline staff who sees "minor" problems. Like. I see the most messed up of claims where everything has gone wrong and while yes obviously those DO need to be addressed... I also am completely out of the loop on more minor issues unless someone tells me. And sometimes it's a really easy fix!!! Or it's something we can incorporate into something else we're working on!!! And I try to be proactive (like... if I'm working on an update for A Chonker Of A Problem, I try to reach out to people who deal even remotely with that problem and ask them to please tell me any and all issues they run into, because like... if I have to remake a form? I'd rather do it right????)

Anyway wow this has turned into a rant but yes there are definitely civil servants who care. Most of us, I reckon.

Strongly recommend calling your reps and freaking out on the phone, both as a self care practice and so they can know that their normally chill constituents are saying things like “I guess if I can’t teach kindergarten teachers to be nicer anymore I shall have to become a bonus army”

[primalsouls]

cold heart, warm hands

jing yuan x gn! foxian! reader

theme: fluff

warning: none

summary: jing yuan took a day off and decided to spend it following a certain foxian with a hot temper. if there was one thing he hate, is those speaking ill of his little fox.

notes: i've never written for jing yuan before, so! sorry if he's a little ooc haha~ anyway, i couldn't stop thinking about reader being annoyed with jing yuan following them around whenever he's off or not super busy and making snipe comments about it, but it never really bothered them in the first place. they just can't handle a very handsome man like jing yuan putting all his love and attention on them, so they can't help but feel super flustered lol~ anyway, enjoy, and any feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

“what are you doing?”

“hm? i can’t follow my dear fox around?”

“you’re a general, aren’t you busy doing something?”

“hmph— not today.” jing yuan said with a light laugh as he trailed behind the hot-tempered foxian. (name) clicked with their tongue against their teeth. their fox ears pulled back, twitching whenever the general spoke their name in that deep, husky voice of his. 

the foxian was out in the central starskiff haven, planning to do some shopping to restock their little café back at the aurum alley. but they found themself being followed by a certain dozing human they came to love very much. (name) glanced over their shoulder as they crossed the bridge, raising a brow when they spotted jing yuan looking over the rail with his hands behind his back. The foxian tilted their head before walking over quietly, standing a little behind the taller man. 

they studied his face, admiring the light complexion and the little mole under his left eye. it was like falling in love all over again. 

“if you keep staring at me like that, i might not hold back, little fox.” their eyes locked with golden ones, full of playful teasing. (name) let out a sharp huff, cheeks burning at the fact they were caught. usually they would throw an insult at the general for making such teasing comments but today they decided to spare him such silly little jabs. for a little while. jing yuan chuckled, continuing to follow his beloved the second they turned around to hide their embarrassed gaze and walked away from him. strolling through the haven was something the general rarely did and when he did, it was to tag along with his partner in their little errand days. 

jing yuan stood behind (name) as they checked around the grocery stand in the haven, placing the orders they would need for their own business. 

“woah, it’s the general!” a few voices gasped at the sight of the white-haired man. jing yuan didn’t turn around, his gaze still focused on his foxian lover as they huff and puff around the poor merchant, jabbing at his chest with little strength as they complained about something jing yuan failed to hear. 

“you’re always out of protein rice! who the hell would buy all hundred protein rice at once!?” (name) said, their arms spreading out to make their point. The shopkeeper only scratched the back of his head, swearing he knew someone with gray hair who always came by and emptied out his shop. (name) didn’t believe him and continued to scold the shopkeeper for being unprepared. jing yuan chuckled at the sight of the foxian’s frown, but his laugh died down when he heard a scoff not too far from behind him. 

“i don’t understand what the general sees in them? they’re so rude and mean-spirited.” a bystander commented to his friends, not realizing he was being slightly loud. “i’m surprised their café still stands with such a distasteful attitude.” he added with a scowl on his face. jing yuan kept quiet, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the conversation about (name). The others in the group agreed, expressing their sympathy for the shopkeeper and the general for having such a difficult partner. jing yuan wanted to turn around and shut down their judged comments about the foxian, but he felt a tug on his sleeve. 

“c’mon, i’m hungry.” they said, waving at the shopkeeper who smiled back at them with a bow of his head. 

“did you sort your issues?” jing yuan asked, curious about the agreement they came to.

“Yeah, next time he restocks, he’ll keep half of the products i want to be stored away until i come over and take what i need.” (name) explained with a nod of their head. jing yuan smiled, looping his arm with his foxian’s. “anyway, are you gonna be busy later?” they asked, to which the general shook his head in response. he freed today to spend it with his beloved. “then let’s have a date tonight. it’s been a while since we had one.”

“that would be wonderful. a nice evening alone with my little fox.” jing yuan teased, smirking when (name) smacked his arm, but not too hurt, as they stammered through their bashful words. jing yuan took their hand in his, bringing it up to his lip to press little sweet kisses on their knuckles. such a gesture made the foxian’s heart spread warmth all over their chest and beat rapidly. their timid gaze looked away, letting the general continue to hold their hand. 

those judgmental bystanders never met his partner to make such unnecessary, impudent comments about his (name). they were a flustered fox, but also caring and understanding (to some degree). jing yuan would defend the foxian until his last breath, but he knew that (name) never cared for anyone’s opinions on them. except for their boyfriend’s. and the only cheeky comments jing yuan would make always tend to be playful and endearing for his dearest, never meaning any ill-mannered in his words or tone. “i’ve heard that short auntie has a new recipe. should we try it out?” the foxian nodded, giving the dozing general a little dazzling smile. “then let’s dine at the delicacy pavilion.” jing yuan chimed, leaving them back to the seat of divine foresight, wanting to sleep in a bit before their evening date. their hands intertwined, swinging gently as they walked side by side and chatted along the way. Well, jing yuan mostly listens to his fox, admiring the features he came to love deeply. 

[hivemuthur]

Nothing's New - Ch.5.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit!

AU modern era, lovers to enemies to lovers, getting back together, angst & smut present

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.6.

word count: 6,2K

warnings: angst, unsafe sex, dacryphilia, orgasm denial/forced orgasm, d/s undertones

tag: #nothings new

author's note: The next update will be on Sunday. Other than trigger warnings, I can only say that this chapter is mostly conversation and 'conversation'. @rennethen beta read 🖤

Cross-posted on AO3

—

You stay. And the longer you do, the more awkwardness seeps in. At first, it’s all tender—Viktor bathes you with hesitant hands, silent until you gasp at his fingers between your legs.

“Sore?” he asks, his expression a mix of worry and fascination.

You nod, and he nods back, placing a kiss on your temple. “It’s okay,” he murmurs constantly as your fingers clutch his arm.

You get dressed in his boxer shorts and sweater. The further the two of you move from what just happened, the more alien everything becomes. His smiles grow more rehearsed. His touch turns hesitant. Your hands fidget as the familiar feeling of being a guest creeps in. You want to say so many things, but none of them will pass the barrier of your mouth.

By the time you both sit on the couch, the distance between you feels vast, every grunt and uncomfortable cough echoing within it. You hug your knees and pull his sweater over them. Viktor winces, knowing this will stretch it into a shapeless rug, and passes you a blanket instead.

You glance around, but the empty shelves glare back at you, so you keep your eyes low. Viktor exhales slowly, rubbing his fingers together as if debating whether to speak at all. When he finally does, his voice is quieter than you expected.

“I don’t really know where to begin.” The sentence sounds pointless to his ears, but he needs it to hear his own voice and confirm it’s still present in his throat. You watch him carefully, searching for any sign of certainty in his expression, but all you find is measured restraint.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For everything,” he says, avoiding your eyes.

Your chest tightens, but you force yourself to keep your voice steady. “That sounds very finite.”

His lips twitch, not quite a smile. “That’s not what I was intending it to sound like.” He shifts slightly, fingers tightening where they rest on his knee. “But if I were to apologize for every single thing, you wouldn’t get out of here for a week. So… I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to run. And for making you uncomfortable… later.”

Your stomach knots. There’s something unsettling about how carefully he chooses his words, how he holds himself so still, as if afraid of what he might do if he lets go. A stark contrast to what was barely an hour ago. God, I love you, falling from him, unfiltered and unguarded already feeling like a stranger.

“Are you apologizing for dating Julia?” you ask, forcing yourself to look at him.

He doesn’t flinch. “No. It felt natural when it happened. So I’m only sorry for being a… dick about it.”

You press your lips together, your fingers curling into the fabric of the blanket. His tone is frustratingly even, revealing nothing beyond what he wants you to hear.

“Is that why you broke up?” you ask, your voice quieter now. “Because it stopped feeling natural?”

His reaction is small but noticeable—a brief clench of his jaw, the subtle shift of his fingers as if suppressing an impulse. He hesitates, his silence stretching long enough that your heart starts beating harder against your ribs.

“Yes,” he finally says, but there’s something else there. His throat bobs, his poise wobbles and you could swear you saw something. Having your eyes drilled into him, he adds, “And… I technically cheated on her.” His voice doesn’t waver. “With you.”

Your breath hitches, but Viktor doesn’t move. He’s watching you now, studying every flicker of emotion that crosses your face.

“And?” you press, barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he does nothing. His fingers twitch, his lips part, and then he exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly—as if at himself, as if he already knows that you know, but it has to be said anyways. “And… it felt like the right thing to do.”

Your pulse stumbles. “Breaking up with her or cheating?” You wince at yourself, so fucking needy and stupid you have to get everything spelled out for you. But the moment is so cramped, you cannot pack it with a bunch of half-truths, there has to be one, honest-to-God truth or you will burst.

His eyes lock onto yours, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. “Both,” he says. His voice is quiet, but firm, like a confession that for once he isn’t ashamed of. “Both felt right when they happened.”

You tear up, but will your eyelids to hold the wetness in. Your hand shoots up to rub your face in a weak attempt to disguise how your feelings are threatening to overspill again. Viktor takes notice but continues, his voice measured, deliberate.

“How did it feel for you? To break up with him?” He will not say that name again, he decides.

“Awful. But necessary,” you admit, the words scraping your throat. Then, before you can stop yourself, you add, “You hate him, don’t you?”

Viktor exhales, his fingers pressing briefly into his knee. “Oh, I hate him, yes,” he says without hesitation, his eyes flick to yours, sharp with intent. “But would I be wrong if I said you hate Julia too?”

Your breath stutters. The air inside you compresses into a void. “N-no,” you manage, your voice smaller now. “I suppose not.” And it’s not rational nor fair but hating her allows you to not hate Viktor.

He shifts, just barely, like he’s testing the distance between you. His gaze lingers, dark and unreadable, before he speaks again—softer this time, uncertain. “So… it means we still care about each other then?” Lots of breaths taken between the words and Viktor settles on one, unsteady inhale at the end.

You swallow, hard. If the kissing and the sex and all the crying hasn’t been enough of a testament to your shared sentiment, then this definitely gives it a final weight that tips the scales. You nod, and with the movement, a tear slips out of its prison and rolls down your cheek, to your chin, falls onto your hand.

“Why are you holding back?” Viktor asks, his gaze following the tear to where you try to hide it. Eyes glimmer and his expression falls apart from composure to wonder. He will have to check it a million times before it’s confirmed, but the feeling is undeniable. A sharp pang, there, where his cock grows out from his groin and the cramp low under his stomach and it’s so uncanny that the sensation of being cried for wakes it, he almost scolds himself. But his gaze doesn’t waver, and his fingers grip his knee tighter.

“W-what?” A hiccup distorts your voice, as the fear of being seen creeps back in. Your breath stumbles, hands tightening on the blanket. Your body tenses as Viktor’s relaxes. There’s a shift in his posture, a quiet but undeniable pull in the way he looks at you now. His expression isn’t one of pity, nor discomfort. His breathing slows, his eyes—sharp, fixated—drink in every trace of wetness clinging to your lashes, every twitch of your mouth as you try to keep it from trembling.

“You want to cry, I can see that. Why are you holding back?” His voice is gentle, but his question digs deep with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, I… I don’t know, I just… I’ve cried so much today already,” you murmur, blinking rapidly as if that alone could chase away the evidence. You sniffle, wipe at your cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater and look anywhere but at him. You feel stupid, falling apart again.

“It doesn’t matter. If crying will make you speak, then cry.” He says too fast and winces. Too much. Too revealing. His stomach knots, his chest tightens with something weightless and hot that makes his head feel lighter than it should. He doesn’t move, but he feels it, the way his breath shudders through his ribs, the way warmth pools at the base of his spine.

“Oh, Viktor,” you sigh, voice fragile, burying your face in your hands.

He moves before he can think better of it. A slow drag across the couch, the hesitant pull of his body closing the space between you. He reaches out—not to comfort, not exactly—but to uncover, to claim. His hands slip over yours, peeling them gently away from your face, and before you can protest, he leans in. His forehead brushes yours, then the damp curve of your cheek. His breath is warm, uneven, as he nuzzles into you, his skin meeting the slick, salty trails of your tears. A sigh leaves him, quiet, almost relieved, like something inside him has settled. In a whisper, sounding dangerously close to hopeful, he asks, “Are you crying for me?”

Your lips part, a sharp inhale caught in your throat. “I’m… scared that I will blow this somehow,” you admit, the honest-to-God truth slipping free. “I miss you. Every day I miss you and chase you away and then miss you again.”

He’s so close you can whisper now. So you do and each one of those confessions gets progressively quieter, progressively bigger as these are the truths you wouldn’t say out loud even to yourself. “I am… so lonely without you.”

“Do you want to try again?” Viktor asks between heavy breaths. His face doesn’t leave yours as he bathes in your tears and his cheeks are warm and hands already grab your neck with thumbs pushing into your throat gently. His lips catch against yours and brows knot and he knows that he is begging but he doesn’t care.

“What if it doesn’t work again?” You say, nodding and your eyes squeeze shut at the thought of what it would feel like to be there again. Chests ripped. Hands scratched, stomachs aching.

“We will survive,” Viktor lies through his fucking teeth. “We will be better,” he vows. “I will be better, you will be better. Promise me, we will be better and that we will try harder, because I can’t—” he cuts as he takes a breath.

His lust confuses his sadness. The simple act of being cried for makes him feel so clean. As if he is not replaceable. As if the fact that he is difficult to love won’t stop you from loving him anyway. As if choosing him means your truly are choosing him over something secure, something easy and comfortable and it makes him grow a little taller, a little broader, a little better.

“I will be better,” you say quietly, even as your insides are crying, screaming, kicking for him.

“I missed you,” Viktor sighs, pulling you closer to his chest. Your legs swing over his, and your arms cradle his waist. His palm rests on your thigh, while the other snakes beneath your hair, fingers wrapping around the back of your neck. He breathes in deep, measured breaths, trying to calm himself.

You let your tears dry as you rise and fall with the steady rhythm of his chest. “I’m sorry too,” you finally say, and Viktor squeezes your neck in recognition.

“Hmm, whatever for?” he asks, brazen. His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging gently, coaxing the tension from your forehead in a familiar gesture.

“God, I’ve missed this,” you hum, and Viktor takes the cue, pressing his thumb between your brows and tracing a firm line across your arch to your temple. He repeats the motion on the other side, and slowly, you feel the tightness in your face and throat begin to ease.

“I’m sorry for being such a coward,” you confess, and for the first time in what feels like forever, your voice doesn’t waver. You feel safer. “For disappearing. And I mean before I actually disappeared.”

“And what else?”

You swallow and blink. “What else?” you echo, hesitant. “What else do you want me to say?”

Viktor exhales sharply through his nose. “Anything that you are holding back.” His voice is steady, rawness lingering beneath it as if he is asking for something he is not exactly ready to hear.

You bite your lip, shaking your head. “I thought leaving was the only way to make you see me. To make you care enough to stop shutting me out.”

His fingers tighten slightly at the base of your neck. “So you left to punish me?”

“No,” you whisper, but you don’t sound convinced. “I—I left because I didn’t know what else to do. You wouldn’t let me in, Viktor.” Your breath catches as you force yourself to meet his eyes. “I was always waiting. For you to look at me, to see me. And when you finally did, I—” You huff out a bitter laugh, pressing your forehead against his chest. “I didn’t want to hear it. I was so angry. I wanted you to feel how I felt.”

“And did it—” he asks, low and measured. “Did it make you feel better?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “No,” you admit. “It didn’t. It just made me feel alone.”

Viktor is quiet for a long moment, fingers tracing absently against the back of your neck. Then, finally, he speaks. “I was selfish.”

Your head snaps up, startled. “What?”

“I was selfish,” he repeats, a mirthless smile tugging at his lips. “Not because I shut you out—I did that out of habit and complacency. But because I still expected you to wait.” His hand slides from your neck, settling against your cheek. “I thought you’d understand. That you’d know without me having to say anything.” His thumb ghosts over your skin. “But that is not how love works, is it?”

Your breath shakes. “No,” you whisper.

He nods, and you feel the need to trade one confession for another. “Sometimes... I was so angry with you that I would make you start a fight,” you offer quietly. His fingers still, a silent question painted on his face. “I would go out of my way to piss you off. Just so you would interact with me. And so it would be your fault that we had a fight in the first place.” You recoil as you hear yourself saying it.

“Was it intentional?” He gives you a window. And he sounds so hopeful that it twists your guts.

“Not really. I realised it once I did it to… Paul,” you mutter, cringing at the admission. Pieces fall into place as you uncover something about yourself, and Viktor is the first person to witness it. “God, that’s just awful, isn’t it?” you sigh, clasping a hand to your face.

“Eh, a little awful, yes,” Viktor chuckles, trying to uncover your face. “But also weirdly insightful of you.”

For a moment, he looks like he wants to say something more. He wants to tell you about the note but bites his tongue—too much in one sitting. He speaks your name softly and sinks down a bit. “I’ve done awful things to forget you as well.”

“Like what? Save for the obvious, like changing the locks,” you shift, grateful for the change in attention.

“Ah, that,” Viktor sucks in a breath and scratches his head. “I… haven’t changed the locks exactly. Just made a new set—” He trails off as your eyes drill into him in disbelief. You shake your head, but a smile tugs at your lips.

“And what else?”

“Well, you already know I sold our bed.” Your heart jumps at our. “What you don’t know is that I might have ended up burning a first edition of Naked Lunch in the whole process of the bed exchange,” he blurts in one breath, bracing himself for a smack. But you only stare, your mouth hanging open as you sit up to kneel next to him.

“Viktor—” you speak more to yourself, disbelief colouring your voice as you search his face for any sign that he’s joking. He’s not.

“I’m so sorry,” he says with a small, embarrassed smile, his brows knitting together in apology, hands reaching for your face.

You seize them and kiss his knuckles, startling him. He doesn’t realise what he’s just admitted yet—a confession worth more than any I love you. “Please, forgive me. I had no idea,” you whisper against his skin.

Viktor laughs, trying to cup your face, but you don’t let him. To do something so desperate, so romantic—to try and rid himself of you in such a way—makes you ache with shame.

You climb onto his lap and kiss his face, over and over, murmuring I’m so sorry between the pecks.

Viktor laughs through it, startled, embarrassed by the sudden surge of affection, yet something blooms in his chest at the familiarity of the gesture. “Are you not angry?” he asks, bewildered.

“No,” you half-chuckle, half-sigh. “I love you so, so much,” you breathe out, and it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud.

Viktor’s face does something utterly strange—like he’s about to cry—but in the end, he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses you. Grateful. Deep. Full of breaths and tongue. And it feels like coming home.

And you sit there for a while. Kissing, laughing, fetishizing each other’s flaws until your stomach gives away a loud growl and Viktor chuckles straight into your mouth. “Food, yes?”

“Such thing was promised,” you smile and allow him to take your hand. And he keeps it in his as he abandons his cane on the sofa and leads you into the kitchen, his thumb absently stroking over your knuckles. The warmth of it lingers even when he lets go, moving toward the counter. The space looks the same, mostly—same chipped tiles, same half-broken cupboard door that never quite shuts—but the air feels different. Lived in, but not by you.

You hesitate near the fridge, gaze flicking over the notes tacked haphazardly to its surface. His scrawled handwriting crowds the scraps of paper—grocery lists, half-legible reminders, a date circled twice with no explanation. Your stomach clenches when you skim over them, hunting for something, anything. Another Miláček meant for someone else. A new name creeping in where yours used to be. But there's nothing. No Julia. No stranger. Just Viktor’s usual chaos.

“Tea?” he asks, already filling the kettle.

You nod, slipping onto a stool, watching him move. He retrieves bread, some cheese, and a tomato from the counter, methodical but oddly cautious, as if remembering how to exist in this rhythm with you. It should be simple—slicing, assembling, waiting for water to boil—but something about it feels… off. The gaps of silence stretch too long. His hand hesitates on the knife.

You rub at the edge of the counter, feeling the grain of the wood beneath your fingertips. “You eat like a student,” you remark, a weak attempt at normalcy.

Viktor huffs a small laugh, shaking his head as he plates the food. “I am a student.” He sets a mug in front of you. “Still. Always.”

The steam curls between you. You should reach for his hand again. You don’t. It’s awkward. He passes you the sandwiches and a cup and you both eat in silence.

Once your plate is clean, the weirdness settles deeper in you—there is nothing left to do, at least not for now. The wise thing would be to bid Viktor goodnight and go home. And as if reading the thought, watching it write itself across your forehead in glaring letters, Viktor beats you to it.

“Will you stay?” he asks.

“The night,” he adds, in case you thought he was already pleading for forever. “Will you stay the night?” His voice is steady, like he’s just confirming something he already knows the answer to.

You nod, and he smiles, muttering okay under his breath, again and again. Then Viktor limps toward you, takes your hand, and gently urges you to stand. When you do, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, leaning into you like a secondary cane as you walk together to the bedroom. A tiny flutter of fear stirs in your chest at the thought of what’s in there—what has replaced your beloved, cursed bed. The empty shelves, the hollow spaces in the cabinets where your things used to be—little signs of your absence foreshadowing the dread.

As if he feels it too, Viktor’s hand tightens around your shoulder as you step through the door, stopping you when he sees your eyes wide and wandering.

“Is this alright?” he asks quietly.

You study the bed before answering. The words aren’t fully formed until you take in the dark wooden frame, the still-crisp mattress, the sheer size of it making the room feel significantly smaller. It’s just an object, you tell yourself. It’s probably not worth mourning every single bit of the past, playing a game of sentimentality.

“What do you think?” Viktor prompts, and your bubble bursts. This is all very silly, but his anticipation warms you—his silliness matches yours.

“It’s just a bed. It’s all good, Viktor,” you say.

He exhales, visibly relieved. His chest sags, and his fingers loosen their grip on your shoulder. He presses a kiss to your temple, then walks you gently to the edge. Your calves meet the frame, and you sit before he presses his hands on your shoulders, urging you to lie down.

Then he clumsily crawls on top of you—needy, grateful—his keen fingers tracing your skin, his sharp hip bone digging into your side until you wince. But the awkwardness is gone. It’s almost as if your bodies speak better than your mouths, and your mouths are only useful for kissing apologies and remorse into each other’s throats. The wound keeps sealing and opening, each next rip smaller and smaller, the scar uglier and uglier. But still, a testament to healing.

Viktor mumbles a lot of sweet things to you—half-words, all of them cut off by your mouth invading his. His voice grows harsh, dropping into a breathy whisper as he repeats your name over and over. His lips grow impatient, wandering down your throat. His hands slip beneath the sweater you’re wearing, tracing your stomach, cupping your breasts—so full of wanting that it clouds your mind.

And soon, it’s only Viktor there.

His toes tickling the soles of your feet, his thighs between yours, one pressing there where you are already soaking through his briefs, stomach bellowing into your ribs, breaths catching against each other in stutters, his drool leaking into your mouth with a lewd sound of wetness spreading around the room. And his fingers, hooking beneath your waistband and yanking the underwear down with one hand, other resting firmly around your neck. Keeping you in place, as he disconnects from your mouth with a loud smack and the string of saliva stretching between you finally breaks off, once his head hovers over your stomach to place a kiss there. And then lower, on your hip bone. And then a lick across your navel, as he shimmies himself down to splay his chest flat between your spread thighs, knees bent, his ankles playfully bumping against each other. He flattens his palms on your abdomen and gently kisses your clit.

Your body jolts, you almost kick him in the head, but he catches your shin, bites it and licks it before throwing it back in its place. His tongue parts you lazily and you feel yourself buzzing, the urge to grab a fistful of his hair and guide him overwhelming, but Viktor is faster again. When he notices your fingers creeping toward his face, he grabs them, entwines them with his and pushes your palms into your lower belly, making a soft sound of, “Mm-mm” to scold you.

And to know that this man’s worship of you ever became doubtful in your heart—it’s unthinkable. Having him here, now, completely devoted, quite literally kissing your feet and your cunt, humming in appreciation, makes everything else feel distant. And you wonder—had you only imagined the distance between you? Or is it a fluke that you found your way back to each other with so little sacrifice?

Which, of course, was anything but little. And yet, compared to how monumentally your love swells in your chest right now, it seems like nothing but dust.

It’s strange, sharing something so grand with only one other person—one who also recognises it as grand. Both of you are just specks in the vast web of the universe. And yet, there is nobody else to witness this.

Only you and Viktor know how this feels—to be like this, with each other.

Your own thoughts distract you, when Viktor is torturing you with the slow pace of his flat tongue, his mouth occasionally sucking, his soft lips easing your sore and you feel yourself gradually melting, dripping straight into his throat. He murmurs and chuckles into your core when you give him strangled whimpers and he finally allows your fingers to tug at his hair when he sees you need to hold onto something. And when you can almost touch it, when the cramp in your guts is an inch from release you curse yourself for all the corny thoughts that swept through your mind a moment ago. Because Viktor retreats. And you whine, the sound stretching your neck, close to ripping it in half.

“Fuck, why?” you almost growl, and he dares to smile like a five-year-old.

“Just… trying something out,” Viktor says, resting his chin on your pubic bone, an innocent grin tugging the corner of his lips down. It’s an experiment. Well, of course.

“Now? You’re trying something out now?” Completely exasperated you glare daggers at him. Having your orgasm dangled in front of you only to be snatched away at the last minute is, to say the least, a dick move.

“Shh, lásko, patience,” he tuts, placing a peck on your clit. “Can you trust me?” he coos, throwing you the bedroom eyes to die for. That look from under his lashes—no bad bone in his body—the let me love you plea that leaves you with your mouth hanging open.

So you groan and nod obediently.

“Good girl,” he hums, eager, and your skin prickles at all the pet names. Amongst the hums in your head, you’re thankful he hasn’t dropped the one that was tainted.

And then his mouth is back on you again. Hot breath washing over you as his tongue resumes the work and soon he joins one finger to tease you from the inside. So delicate, to keep you there on the edge of pleasure, he drags it and curls it to explore every crevice. A bunch of pretty whimpers drip from your lips when you try to push your hips lower to meet his hand, but he holds you tight. He whispers sounds of appraise into your flesh: so wet, so good for me, good girl, trust me. And when you finally do and let your hands fist the sheet and your head fall back, eyes squeeze shut as your breath hitches and stomach curls into another cramp, Viktor fucking stops.

“Viktor, I hate you!” An undignified cry escapes you as your body jolts upright, eyes wide in disbelief, tears prickling in the corners.

“Ah, and whatever happened to trust?” He fixes you with a glare.

“This… this is cruel.” You gasp for breath, almost hyperventilating at the audacity of his behaviour. Something crestfallen flickers across Viktor’s face—like he’s disappointed you didn’t trust him blindly.

“No, my heart. This,” he murmurs, crawling back up until his face is level with yours. You feel his cock pressing against your entrance, his breath tickling your cheek.

“This is mercy," he says, voice low. "Because I really want to fuck you again, and I don’t want to hurt your poor pussy further. So you see how important it was for me to prepare you.”

And just like that, shame washes over you. What kindness was that, that you so eagerly discredited.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, the words spilling out faster than you can think. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, trying to pull him into a kiss of apology. But Viktor tilts his head just enough that your lips land on his chin.

“We’ll see about that now, won’t we?” he murmurs, dipping lower. His whisper fans over the shell of your ear, his breath burning. “Because as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have to make you cum tonight,” he chuckles darkly as the head of his cock slides inside you with ease, and indeed, you are so wet it doesn’t hurt.

“Viktor, I’m sorry, ah—” you gasp, as his cock hits the spot, a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye, and you catch something in Viktor’s expression. As soon as it happens, he presses his sweat-slicked forehead to yours and begins licking into your mouth. His tongue pushes past your lips so greedily you could choke, hips roll into yours, making a lewd sticky sound each time he retreats to push back again, and again.

Viktor’s arms cage around your face, his fingers anchor into your hair as he tilts your head up to lo look at him, his eyes draw up to yours with a gaze full of intent.

“Will you behave now?” He states more than asks. The world becomes soft at the edges, when he looks at you like that. When he fucks you like that. When his fingers curl around your hair and his thumbs press gently into your temples.

“Yes,” you breathe, voice nearly absent. Your eyebrows knit together more and more with each slow slam of his hips between your legs and the tightening in your stomach comes back, stronger than before. You spread your legs further apart, lifting your pelvis to meet his, your toes curl and muscles tense up around him.

“And will you do as you are told?” he asks, and his voice gives way to something hopeful and needy.

“Yes,” you reply, this time audibly with a full vocal moan and try to snake your hands between the two of you to cradle his neck, cup his face. He keeps the angles fixed, slapping your clit with his pubis in a steady rhythm.

“Good,” Viktor coos, giving you a wet drooling kiss. And then another, before he thinks for a bit. His lips brush yours, when he whispers, “Be my good girl and cum on my cock.”

And if that wouldn’t break you completely, the bite on your neck would and it does. You feel it down to you marrow, surging through, as your cunt clenches around him and Viktor pants and grunts into your skin. You come pressing your nose against his with a loud fuck, knuckles paling on his arms. Tears start pushing themselves through the corners of your eyes again and when you think he will come too and stop, he doesn’t.

He sucks his stomach in and snakes a hand between your sticky navels, fingers finding your clit when he rasps, “Again.” You yelp, startled, your cunt going numb before you feel his touch and you try to jolt away, hypersensitive and swollen. “One more time, for me,” Viktor mutters into your ear, voice dripping heavily from his tongue. You can feel he is close too in every little spasm of his cock, but he holds back. He batters your lips with his, swallows the heedless sounds you make. Like a reward for your struggle, he caresses a hollow of your cheek and whispers quiet praise in between kisses.

And when you regain the feeling in your womb, a new tension builds itself on top of the previous one, ready to snap you in half. You clasp your thighs around him, fingers still digging into his flesh to the point of bruising and when you cum again your vision goes blurry from all the tears welling down your cheeks, and Viktor, oh, he rubs his face against yours, purring, as if you have just given him the most precious of all gifts. The orgasm lasts forever, fucks you out completely, breath rips out of your lungs when you finally find a way to grab his neck and moan everything straight into his wet mouth.

He swallows all of it and seconds later gives it back with his own completion—a couple of ragged hard snaps against you, while he spills himself inside you with a strangled groan falling from his lips. Before you can say or think of anything, he jams his tongue back into your mouth and kisses you deeply, gratefully, moaning and whimpering at the last twitches of your cunt milking him dry.

Then he nuzzles into your neck and takes a deep breath, his belly pressing against yours. In this soul-crushing moment, all words feel like strangers to you, and Viktor grants you another little mercy when he asks, “How are you?”

You swallow before replying. You have no idea. Fucked numb? Sad? Happy? Full? Empty? All those things at once? In the spirit of trust, you say quietly, “I don’t know.”

A warm chuckle reaches you as he pulls out and up to cradle you. You look at his face, convinced the exact opposite of his expression is painted on yours, when he tries to soothe you with a quiet, “It’s alright.��

Gentle hands bring you closer, and he places a kiss on your temple, breathing in deeply. “Just tell me if anything aches.”

“It doesn’t,” you say quickly. And then a stupid question pops into your head, bounces around, and rolls out through your mouth. “Did you plan for this?” This could mean so many things, but Viktor, by some uncanny intuition, knows.

“To sleep with you? Oh no,” he laughs, shaking his head. “My nearly perfect plan to really tell you and then see you out failed miserably.” Viktor murmurs while stroking your hair, and you wrap your arms around him tighter—both happy and sad. Happy that his plan failed, sad that he had one in the first place, and it wasn’t about winning you back.

“But that’s not new,” he sighs, and you raise your eyebrows in question. “We haven’t done the best job keeping away from each other.”

“Viktor,” you start, disbelieving the sound of your voice. “I am terrible at keeping away from you. I think if I have to do this again, I’ll die of cancer. I won’t survive if we do this again, I swear,” you mumble, wincing at how pathetic your first words sound. But you maintain, reinforcing your confession with a nuzzle into his touch. At least it’s not awkward anymore.

Viktor’s fingers trace absent-minded shapes on your shoulder. His voice is soft when he finally says, “Some things will need to change.”

You shift slightly, tucking your face closer to his neck. His warmth is comforting, but the words sting a bit. “What do you mean?”

His hand stills. “We cannot fall back into the same rut. We have to—” He exhales, shaking his head like he’s unwilling to phrase it too neatly. “Do better.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. It’s the answer you expected, but still, something in you balks at the finality of it. The If not, then nothing feels heavy. “Do you want to forgive me?” you ask, your voice quieter than intended.

Viktor hums, considering. “I already have.”

Relief floods you—but before you can lean into it fully, he adds, “That does not mean I trust you.”

Your breath catches, and you lift your head to look at him. His expression is unreadable, and you search his eyes for something that might tell you how deep the wound still runs.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, gaze steady.

You open your mouth, then hesitate. You do. But not fully. Not in the way you used to. Not in the way that feels effortless. The hesitation speaks louder than words.

Viktor smiles, not unkindly. “Exactly.”

A prickle of shame rises in your throat. But he doesn’t pull away. His hand finds your back, rubbing slow circles as if he knows you need reassurance.

“It’s good,” he murmurs, as if it’s a promise rather than a question. “We’ll take it bit by bit.”

You nod, pressing your forehead to his. It’s terrifying, starting over like this—unsure, tentative—but then again, when have either of you ever done things the easy way?

So you take a breath. “Alright,” you whisper. Things have already changed, and Viktor is already someone else compared to a mere week ago. So far, so good. Your mind swells with thoughts of the last four hours, and you catch yourself staring at him, searching his face for answers to questions you haven’t yet put into words.

He opens one eye and cocks a brow. “You’re still trying to figure me out,” he murmurs, more amused than accusatory.

“Yeah,” you admit.

He huffs a quiet laugh and closes his eyes again. “Good.”

And he holds you closer.

[mintraindrop]

"landoscar being down bad in the new suits"

might finish this one day. have this for now.

The fireproofs cling to him like a second skin, accentuating every curve and edge of his body. They’re almost completely black, no colourful logos, no sponsor names, just black and dark grey and a dot or two of papaya. He can’t take his eyes off the man. So he watches him.

Watches him move, talk, speak; lets his eyes slide across the planes of the body that he’s gotten to know inside out.

The fireproofs barely leave anything to the imagination and for the rest he lets himself fall back into the memories from only two nights ago. His mind wanders to that one spot on his collarbone that is now covered in dark fabric. The skin there still a light purple from where he couldn’t stop himself, from where he let his lips and teeth create an intriguing work of art. Something only he is allowed to admire now.

His eyes drift back up, taking in the way the nomex stretches over his stomach, his abs and chest. Around his neck. He imagines his hand there, skin on hot skin, feeling the other’s sharp intake of breath. The mumbled ‘please’. A quiet beg for more.

His eyes continue to wander, observing how low the race suit hangs from his hips, how small his waist looks. He wants to wrap his arms around him, keep his hands right there, digging his fingers into the skin hard enough to leave bruises. The indents of his fingers claiming the other as his and only his.

He feels his pupils dilate, matching his eyes to the colour of their suits. It’s a shame, really, that this is a one day only thing. He has to convince their team to make special liveries out of this. Preferably for the next 24 races yet to come.

He’s glad that he is standing on the other side of the garage, enough distance between them so that he can’t reach out and trace his knuckles over the small of his back, let his fingers carefully dip underneath the suit, caressing over his ass and letting the heat of his own skin seep through the fireproofs. He imagines himself watching the goosebumps rise on the other’s skin, only noticeable on the tiny hairs on his back. No one would be the wiser.

He is about to take the first step, not really anything holding him back, knuckles white with how hard he clenches his fists. He stops himself.

He straightens himself, finally looking up, reaching the other’s face. Their eyes meet, black as their suits, pupils blown, mouths slightly open. They look at each other and it’s like they know what the other is thinking. Twin smirks appear on their faces. They don’t need to talk to know how this night will go. They look at one another and they can feel their hands on each other’s bodies, skin hot and sweaty, quiet gasps leaving their mouths shortly after both of them whispered ‘hot’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?’

On the other side of the room he sees him nod, his hands reaching for his suit. Black as the fireproofs. He’s done talking. The fabric of the suit settles perfectly around his body. It’s made for him. And somehow this is even worse. It’s hiding more from his body but that also means that only he now really knows what it looks like without.

What it feels like.

He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself, before he watches his significant other climb into the car.

Time moves too slow.

picture credit: mclaren instagram

***

pov: who knows? could be either of them 🤭

***

I know this isn’t much but I'm still using my writing tag list: @leftneb @slideleftt @oscatmeowstri @justwannabelovedbylou @fanboyoff1 @notheroicnotromantic @oopslandiia @fairielux @standgrand @nxlx96

hope this is okay :)

[waynes-multiverse]

Lover – Part 2

Series Summary: Free from his past, Ben’s trying to move on and find a little drop of happiness in this new world. But when he finally holds everything he ever wanted in his hands, it threatens to slip through the cracks, and he has to fight one final time with everything he’s got to keep it.

🫡 Catch up here! Sequel to Rehab & Video Games.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ due to language & mature themes, established relationship, Soldier Boy x wife!reader, human!Soldier Boy, angst with a side of hurt/comfort, sickness & generally gross descriptions thereof (the Gen V virus says hello 👋 – with minor adjustments), tw: mentions of euthanasia & suicide, sprinkles of fluff between

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Don't read too much into the whole virus situation, guys. I promise this is a full fix-it, and that annoying little bug is just how we're gonna do that 😜 Come tomorrow, all's well because we all know the V stands for... I do this joke every year, don't I? Never mind! Happy reading! 💕

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 2: Lovesick

Ben’s worried. Y/N keeps saying she’s fine.

They stroll through the supermarket. Benny pushes the cart in front of them, racing down the aisles.

She woke up this morning around eleven o’clock after a thirteen-hour sleep. He’d held a small mirror under her nose several times at night to assure himself she was still breathing. She never woke up. She’d looked so peaceful it had almost been creepy.

She also sweat through her sheets and jittered like a leaf in the wind. He tried to hold her when she was freezing and gave her distance when she was ablaze. In those breaks, he scoured the Internet for answers and tried to keep his frustrations over it quiet with little grunts and a deeply creased brow.

The hard lines on his face are still there, though. They never left.

Ben isn’t entirely clueless, however. Sure, he’s spent some four decades locked away, then came back for a short period of time to a world he can barely understand, only to be put to sleep and experimented on some more for a couple of years. People don’t really expect him to follow the news at this point, and they’re not wrong in their assumption – he rarely ever gives a shit.

But he remembers how she’d given him an update of the world’s dire state when he’d first gotten to the clinic. She’d mentioned a virus – one designed to kill any supes. The plan was to wipe everyone out. Biological warfare, they’d called it. It hadn’t come as a surprise to Ben. He’d seen this all before. Hell, he’d even helped with some of those things back in his glory days.

The virus had been one more reason, one more need for the cure. It had been the perfect deal: If you can’t kill ‘em, cure ‘em. But once that infectious little vial was opened, well, it had been hard to put the genie back inside.

The cure acted as both a vaccine and a remedy against the virus. Soon, the pesky little thing was pushed back but was never quite eradicated. It had eventually slowed its progression but never became any less deadly.

Now, instead of quick and painless, there was agonizing and torturous.

But Y/N can’t take the cure. He might as well kill her this second out of mercy.

When she woke up from her beauty sleep this morning, she admittedly looked better. She said she felt better. Ben still didn’t believe her. She barely touched her food, picked at her breakfast, and ended up only eating the leftover crusts of their son’s toast. He watched her from his periphery as he nursed his coffee in the kitchen, stoically worrying more.

Y/N coughs once more next to him as they pass the frozen food aisle. Ben eyes her cautiously. She’s done it all morning. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to help her or how to stop it. Not even the blue vial could help him fix it. He doesn’t even know if it’s real yet. Is it normal? Is he overreacting?

She coughs again. He shakes his head and bites his tongue.

“You okay?” he checks gruffly, his voice thick with tension and concern, but he already expects her answer.

“I told you not to worry. I’m alright,” she says, her throat dry and her voice coarse. Her words are meant to soothe her husband. She can see the worry shimmering in his juniper eyes. She’s lucky he’s not a supe anymore, or he would’ve gone nuclear a while ago.

And admittedly, she knows she might be in denial. If true, it seems like a cruel trick the universe is playing on her. Giving her all she’s ever wanted and take it away immediately after? It definitely feels like a cosmic joke all the Gods are laughing about.

But deep down, she knows it’s true. She knows she’s screwed, but she doesn’t know how to tell Ben. He’ll lose his shit. She knows he’s not built for this.

She coughs again into a used tissue, which she has stored in her pocket since last night. Her tongue tastes something metallic – copper and iron. And when her eyes land on the white cloth, they notice spots of a deep, scarlet red.

She stops walking then and swallows thickly, her hands trembling as her eyes transfix on the blood. Ben halts as well when he realizes she’s not moving. He sees the panic in her face, sees she’s a lot paler now than the night before. Her skin looks clammy, her eyes red, weary, and dazed as if she had just taken a hard hit from one of his blunts.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asks and steps closer. He cocks his head at her, the creases of his brow now harsh lines. She seems out of it, confused. She doesn’t even seem to understand his question, let alone be capable of answering.

Her mouth opens, but instead of words, she only inhales shakily like it’s the last breath she’ll ever take. Ben barely reaches her fast enough when her eyes roll back into her head till there’s only shining white and her knees begin to buckle.

Ben pulls the knitted wool blanket up to her shoulders and gently kisses her temple. It’s been two hours since she’s fainted in the supermarket, and she’s still burning up.

He caught her just in time before her head hit the linoleum. He shooed away a group of concerned strangers that had gathered around them, assuring them that his wife was fine and just experiencing a minor dizzy spell. He sold it with a humorous eye roll and chuckled the word “women” before grabbing the kid and carrying her quickly out of the store and into the car. If she hadn’t been out cold, he’s certain he would’ve heard several objections to that comment.

Ben knows he can’t take her to a hospital, however. No one knows she’s a supe, and these days, they don’t receive the best treatment – too many bridges burnt after Homelander’s reign of terror. People have become angry, fearful, and distrustful.

Again, he feels a little responsible. He’s sure Soldier Boy had laid some groundwork for that, too.

Softly, the door to their bedroom clicks shut, her phone in his hand as he searches her contacts. His shoulders tense as he reaches the one he needs. His jaw tightens as he holds it to his ear and waits for an answer.

“Hey, I figured you’d call. Already fed up with the wrinkly dick and coming back?” Victoria Neuman’s voice sounds through the speaker, causing Ben’s hair to stand up on its ends.

Chalk on fucking board, he thinks and bites the anger back. He hates talking to that bitch, hates being nice, and hates asking for favors. But he swallows the acrimony down for the sake of his wife.

“It’s me,” Ben grits and feels his jaw beginning to ache. Why the fuck does everything hurt all the time? It’s something he figures he’ll never get used to – every time his back cracks and creaks in the mornings.

“You have exactly five seconds to tell me she’s not locked up in your basement before I make a few calls and let hellfire rain down on you, you decrepit piece of antiquity,” she bites her threat, but Ben can hear the concern in her voice, although he doesn’t give it too much weight. She’s probably faking it like her orgasms.

“Look, I wouldn’t fucking call if it wasn’t serious, you cunt,” Ben snaps and squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing the surge of fury and impatience out of his temples.

His admission causes a beat of silence on the other end. “What’s going on?” Neuman then finally asks and swallows down her own snarky remarks.

Ben licks his chapped lips before pushing the words out. “She’s-… she’s sick.”

There’s another long pause. “She can’t be sick. She’s a supe.”

“I fucking know that.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah…”

They both sigh (and both hate that they have something in common).

“I-… I have the cure,” Ben says and bites down on his tongue immediately after. He doesn’t want to show her all his cards.

“You can’t give it to her. It’s going to kill her,” Victoria reminds him firmly.

“The fucking virus is gonna kill her too, right?” Ben’s eyes drop to the floorboards that hold the solution to all his problems underneath.

“Yeah, it is,” Victoria admits. “What are her symptoms? You sure she’s not just pregnant?”

“I fucking hope not.” There’s a sentence he never expected to say. But– “I haven’t fucking cum inside of her for months.”

“Charming,” Neuman retorts on the other end.

“Wait, do you fucking know something? Did she cheat on me?” The grip around the phone in his hand tightens. Was that why she forgave him so fast and said she believed him?

“Unfortunately, no,” Victoria replies with obvious disappointment. Ben refrains from releasing the sigh of relief he feels. “Believe me, I’ve tried to get her cockdrunk on someone else…”

If Ben still had super-strength, he would’ve crushed the goddamn phone in his hand. Instead of exploding, he closes his eyes and takes a deep fucking breath, though. Ten… nine… eight… Where’s your happy place?

“Why the fuck are you calling me? What do you want?” Victoria’s voice snaps him out of his fatal fantasies of tearing her limbs off one by one.

“What d’you got in your labs? You gotta have a new cure, a new sample, fucking something,” Ben says but doesn’t even know what he’s asking. He’s grasping at straws, hoping to stumble upon an answer.

“If they’d found something, I would’ve already given it to her,” Neuman says.

“You fucking sure about that?” Ben doesn’t believe a drop of what she’s telling him.

“Yes,” Victoria still insists. “Look, before you give it to her, I’ll ask around, make a few calls, okay? See if there’s any possibilities to stop this.”

Ben’s hands tremble, his jaw quivers as he desperately tries to steady himself. “Thank you, fucking hurry,” he forces out in a murmur and immediately hangs up.

Y/N stretches with a grumbling sigh as his hand gently caresses her head. He presses his lips to her burning temple, her weary eyes fluttering open.

“Hey, my love,” Ben says, his deep voice soft as if he’s singing her a lullaby. “How are you feeling?”

She yawns and fights back the sleep in her eyes. “Still tired.”

“You’ve been sleeping for five hours,” he tells her and watches as she curls into the couch cushions with a coughing fit. He lowers down to the carpeted floor, stroking her back till she strenuously takes a breath again. “I think we need to talk about it now.”

Slowly, she meets his gaze, and he sees the fear shimmering in her eyes behind a thin veil of tears. She knows what this is, what her body is fighting, and Ben wonders how long she’s known without saying anything. He guesses she knew right from the start. Sometimes, he forgets he likes to pretend she isn’t really smarter than him.

But then, the fear morphs to determination. She nods, swallowing. “The gun’s in the safe in the closet.”

“I know where the fuck it is,” Ben grits, his brow densely creasing with a mix of confusion and angry suspicion. “What exactly do you think I’m gonna fucking do with it?”

“Shoot me.”

Her eyes are steady and firm, his voice is sterner.

“No.”

The word booms through the living room, threatening to quake the earth and shake books off their shelves.

“Ben–“

“You fucking listen to me, I’m not fucking killing you. End of discussion,” he snaps furiously. She’s not sure she’s ever seen him this angry before – not even when she said they should consider a divorce. Although, this seems to be a different kind of anger – one that cuts deeper.

“Sid shot Nancy,” she says quietly, hoping it appeals to him in some dark, ironic twist.

“She was stabbed, and they could never fucking pin it on him,” Ben shuts her argument down. “Ain’t fucking happening. I’m sorry, but you’re not gonna be the last person on my kill list, love.”

She forces a wry but weak smile. “It’d be a mercy killing. Euthanasia.”

“I’m familiar with the fucking concept,” Ben huffs tiredly. His hand then dives into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a small vial that holds yellow liquid.

Her lips part in shock as her eyes fix on the familiar cure in his grasp. “How long have you–“

“Stole it from that black site while you and that Neuman cunt were busy yapping about policies,” Ben explains. “I also took something blue. Figured I could use it at some point.”

“Still wanna be Soldier Boy, huh?” Her voice sounds almost bitter, mocking. A small part of her has always hoped she’d be enough for him someday. That he didn’t need the fame, the money, and the fake heroics. That he’d love himself enough to not rely on a façade.

“No,” he replies to her surprise and watches her straighten a bit on the couch. “I’d fucking do it for you.”

“I don’t want that,” she tells him firmly, hoping he still remembers her words even when she’s gone.

“I know that. Why the fuck do you think I haven’t done it yet?” Ben says with a raised brow and as much patience as he can find within himself. Chats like these aren’t his strong suit.

“So, this is your idea?” She cocks an eyebrow at the vial in his hand, her look pointed. “You don’t wanna kill me quickly, but you’d rather watch me die in fucking slow-motion?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Ben argues, the lines on his freckled face hardening again. Why does she have to be so fucking stubborn all the time?

Ironically, she thought the same thing about her husband.

“For who? You?! You can’t be that fucking selfish,” she spits and rises from the couch with a shaking head.

“Funny. I was just about to say the same fucking thing to you,” he returns with the same fire.

She thunders into the bedroom and slams the door shut before he hears her rummaging through the closet. Annoyed, he rolls his eyes once the first expletives bleed through.

“Where’s the fucking gun?” she snaps as soon as the door flies open again.

“Already hid it somewhere you won’t fucking find it,” he answers slyly and purses his lips as she storms past him into the kitchen.

She lets out a deep sigh of frustration when she finds both the knife block and drawers empty. “Seriously? Did you fucking baby-proof the house while I was asleep?!”

“Well, if you’re behaving like a fucking baby…” he retorts and patiently follows her frantic steps. “You also won’t find fucking scissors and pills, either.”

“Ironic coming from you,” she scoffs, opening and shutting cabinet doors in the desperate search for something strong enough to put her out of her goddamn misery.

“Yeah, how do you think I knew which shit to hide, huh?” he asks rhetorically and takes a careful step closer, cornering her between counters and appliances. “Would you stop that now and fucking talk to me?”

“You don’t wanna talk to me,” she retorts. “You just wanna fucking pump me full of poison, so you get to feel fucking good about yourself again.”

“You think that’s it? I’m fucking jealous?” He arches a brow and crosses his muscular arms over his broad chest, his offense hiding behind amusement.

“Aren’t you?” she bites back.

“Is that you or the fucking V talking, huh?” Ben has never said it out loud before, but he hated how that blue shit changed her. Sure, it only amplified certain parts of her that he supposes have always been there, but it made her less caring, more arrogant, too.

“It’s me, you asshole,” she snarls.

The look on her face breaks his heart into a million pieces. He almost doesn’t recognize her anymore, and he knows reaching any sense of clarity or humanity within her is impossible at this point.

“You sure about that?”

She doesn’t reply, just shakes her head at him and opens the fridge. Her shoulders still for a second, and Ben knows at that moment she’s found something and is thinking of a plan to outfox him.

His gaze swerves to the full beer bottle that has found its way into her hand. She’s quick when she breaks it forcefully against the countertop, the golden-brown liquid splashing onto the floor. But Ben’s faster and bruisingly clutches her wrist, spinning her to face him. Tears sting her eyes as she fights against his hold. Ben knows she’s not using her full strength on him, though, and is almost curious as to why.

He’s not sure Soldier Boy would’ve shown the same hesitant restraint, even if it had been her.

“What the fuck are you doing? Let me fucking go,” she grits through her teeth.

Ben only shakes his head, his gaze on her stern as he tightens his grip around her wrist.

“You want me to fucking melt you into a puddle?” she threatens.

“Fucking do it,” he challenges her defiantly without a blink of a single eye. “If you wanna do this, you’re gonna have to step over my fucking body first, ‘cause there’s no way I’m letting this hand go unless you drop that fucking bottle. What’s it gonna be?”

Her nostrils flare in sync with the heavy rising and falling of her chest, her glare deadly. Slowly and mutinously, she opens each finger till the bottle crashes to the floor and shatters into sharp daggers at their feet. As soon as his grasp on her loosens, she breaks down and falls into his arms, sobbing against his chest.

He feels a flood of relief rush through his body. Thank fucking God, because he’s totally been bluffing.

He wraps his arms tighter around her, holds her closer, and nuzzles his face into her hair. “I know. It’s okay, sweetheart…”

“I’m fucking scared, Ben,” she cries, and he swallows the thick lump in his throat and forces his own tears back into his skull.

“I know, I know…” He cradles her head, resting his chin on her crown. “You know, admittedly, I’m-… I’m a little scared, too.”

She peels from his chest and meets his forest green eyes, amusement dancing on her lips. “Well, I’m glad you’re not a cold-hearted psychopath.”

Ben curls his lips, cheeks reddening. This is what he gets for opening up. “It’s my job as your husband to take care of you. Be a strong front.”

She rolls her eyes back dramatically and groans into his shirt. “You know, it doesn’t make you less of a man for feeling things.” She teasingly grins up at him. “In fact, I think only guys with the biggest dicks can pull it off.”

His lips tug at a smile. “I know what you’re doing.”

She locks her arms around his neck and pulls herself to his height for a scorching kiss. And Ben can’t fight the feeling this is meant to be their last one.

“Don’t get weird when I’m gone, okay?” she tells him then, and it feels like the beginning of a list of last wishes. “No reverting back to full asshole. No blue shit.”

“Christ, you’re not fucking dying,” Ben replies, his deep voice calm but firm.

“Ben, denial will only make it worse,” she says, her heart cracking at the forlorn look on his face. “You can’t fix this. There’s nothing you can do. It’s okay.”

Ben shakes his head wordlessly, and she knows the conversation is about to be over. There really isn’t more she can do, either.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to bed. You need some rest,” Ben says and already scoops her into his arms before she can respond.

Y/N’s head rests on his broad and bare chest as he holds her tightly in his arms. The skin-to-skin contact seems to soothe her, which is good because he plans to never let her go. If he just keeps her here right next to him, she’ll be fine. She won’t leave him.

She’s talked some when she wasn’t out like a light, but Ben could tell her mind was getting hazy. She talked about her parents and her childhood, something she rarely ever does.

They had never really talked a lot about their respective pasts altogether. They’d covered the basics, but what actually happened didn’t matter as much. They knew they’d both done things they weren’t proud of. But the point of their relationship had always been a clean slate – a fresh start.

She had barely gotten that. She stupidly sacrificed it all for him, and he still wishes she would’ve never done that. He was supposed to die that day with Homelander. It had been his time.

Not hers.

She snores softly in his arms. Her heartbeat is faint, her breathing shallow. An hour ago, it used to be labored, each breath a struggle. She’s so hot he’s afraid she’ll melt in his embrace. He knows she doesn’t have long anymore. He’s running out of time.

Carefully, he stretches his arm to reach for the glistening yellow vial on the nightstand. He pops the lid open and stabs the syringe through the top, drawing it to the brim.

There’s a flicker of hesitation in his green eyes. What if he makes it worse? More painful? What if he kills her?

Victoria’s words ring in his ears. There’s a chance the virus accepts the cure. A loophole, if you will. The cure’s deadly for two-timers, but if they were also infected with the virus, the cure could piggyback on that. One in eighty rats had survived the ordeal before they stopped the trials. Ben didn’t understand the rest of the scientific mumbo-jumbo, but he knows those aren’t great odds.

Still, it’s something.

Ben doesn’t have the luxury to be picky about solutions, though. What he thought were minutes turn to seconds once her breathing stops entirely.

He rolls up the sleeves of the oversized shirt she’s wearing, one of his, and looks for a good angle on her forearm, just below the elbow. He’s not a doctor, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing or where it should go best, but that one time he did heroin in the 80s, he’d put it exactly there, and it had been fine.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he mumbles into her hair and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

One rough prick through her steeled skin, and the needle is in. He empties the liquid in one swift motion before discarding the used syringe back on the nightstand. He cautiously slides out from underneath her then and ensures she’s lying comfortably on the mattress. He doesn’t want to leave her side, but he knows her powers might short-circuit soon.

Ben remembers the stories from other supes at the rehab clinic – the agonizing pain, the feeling of puking your organs out before the rest follows. Flickers of his own process trickle into his mind. He can’t remember most of it, but he remembers how they’d locked him up in a nuclear-proof prison at some point during the procedure.

For now, he prefers not die by a rain of acid if he gets to pick.

His hand gently caresses her head. He’s not even sure she’s still alive. She might not, and he may have been too late. All for nothing.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers and takes her hand in his. It feels cold and lifeless, but he still tries. He’s not ready to let go yet. He’s not sure he’ll ever be. “I know you can beat this shit like everything else. We’re this fucking close. Just a little more…”

And then, there’s a flicker of something – a weak tap of a finger against his palm. There’s movement behind her eyelids and a twitch of her brows.

“Sweetheart?”

There’s a groan, her hands gripping a fistful of bedsheets as she coils into the mattress, muscles contorting. He gently rubs her back, trying to help her as the pain tears through her.

“Hey, hey, you’re good. You’re alright,” he soothes and feels the guilt bubbling in his stomach. He hates that he did this to her, but he did it for love. The knowledge barely makes it better, however.

“Oh, fuck, Ben!”

She usually screams those exact words for different reasons, and Ben notes the soft tones of annoyance and anger that are lacing her voice.

“Did you give me the fucking cure?!”

Ben draws his lips into tight line and nods. Admittedly, she might not have fully consented to the procedure. But he prefers her furious with him for the rest of her life over dead. Besides, he’s her husband – shouldn’t the decision be his? Like pulling the plug? That’s a thing, right?

“Motherfucking–“

She bites down on her tongue and swallows her curses with some blood as another surge of pain takes control of her body. Her fingernails claw at her forearms as if she’s trying to scratch it out of her system. If Ben could compare it to anything, he’d probably go with a demon exorcism.

“You selfish fucking prick! You can’t even let me die in peace?!” she grits through her teeth, fighting another surge. She feels the nausea too, like a parasite trying to flee its host through her throat.

“Look, I’m fucking sorry, but I had to take the shot, alright?!”

Y/N groans in loud exhaustion, and Ben’s not entirely sure if it’s because of the pain or a little bit because of him, too.

“Ben, you need to fucking leave,” she presses through her lips, her stern gaze finding his.

He can tell by her look that she’s not saying it out of anger. She’s not saying it because she doesn’t want him to stay and never see him again. She says it because she’s trying to save his life.

Again. The fourth time.

Her name falls from his lips, but she shakes her head as she stumbles out of bed and pushes past him towards the bathroom.

“Leave,” she tells him with more urgency. “Close the door. Go now.”

Ben stills with a hand on the doorknob and looks at her. He can’t leave her like this, can he?

“I’ll be fine. I promise. Please go,” she says as if she can read his mind, steadying herself against the cool wall. She can feel it everywhere, trying to escape her body.

His breaths are ragged, his heart is hammering against his ribs. “I fucking love you,” he says through the sting of tears in his eyes. He says it like it’s the last time he gets to say it while she can still hear him.

She sends him a weak smile and mouths, ‘I love you, too.’

And all there’s left then for him to do is staring at a closed bedroom door. And waiting. Fucking waiting…

Part 3: Lovestruck – TOMORROW 💕

Ah yes the waiting game 😂🫶 Are you excited for the finale aka the happy end tomorrow? After this, they truly deserve it haha

🩵 Tag List

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TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @lyarr24 @supernotnatural2005 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

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@americanvenom13 @lamentationsofalonelypotato

Soldier Boy: @deans-baby-momma @snowayumi

Rehab Series: @nancymcl @sparkydonugh

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Wednesday

I started new wip. It's soulmate post-break up au. Yes, Buck is dying. Yes, he won't seek a treatment:

“New generation of medication is way better in allowing patients to feel way more emotions. Some of them even fall in love,” Dr. Salazar says, but Buck just scoffs.

“Yeah, I did it three times,” he looks at the window, “zero out of thousand. Do not recommend it. How much do I have before I die?”

“Mr. Buckley,” she starts but he holds his hand to stop her.

“I don’t want to be a robot. I want to feel anything I can before I die. I want to laugh with my family and friends, feel my love to them, be happy and cry from so much love holding my another nibling when they will be born. I’m ok with dying. I don’t want a treatment.”

He closes his eyes to breathe for a second, keeping his tears at bay. 

“Write what you need for the department, please. I'm a liability. For everyone.”

Dr. Salazar is silent with her big kind eyes scanning him, eventually she must have seen something because she goes to work and passes him all his documents.

“I still added the pamphlet about the treatment. Think about it carefully, Mr. Buckley. New medications come every day. You might have more than just some months with your family.”

Buck nods, not trusting his voice.

The truth is: he doesn’t want any more time for himself. What is the reason? To feel more heartbreak if the pills would allow him feelings? Be a robot who doesn't care about anything?

Dying is easier. Dying is freedom.

I was tagged by @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley

Np tagging @hippolotamus @mmso-notlikethat @quintessenceofdust88 @laundryandtaxesworld @typicalopposite @lavenderleahy @leashybebes @beanarie @bekkachaos @midsummersmorn @monsterrae1 @weewookinard @wikiangela @repressedqueen @ravipanikking @racerchix21 @bewilderedbuckley @bigfootsmom @bi-buckrights @evansbuck-ley @exhaustedpirate @epiphainie @devirnis @desert--moonchild @agentpeggycartering @aringofsalt @actuallyitsellie @aplaceinme @comfortingevanbuckley @tommysdaddykink @powersuitup @pirrusstuff and anyone who wants to

[kiturak]

Sorry that I'm being long, it's just that there is a lot of personal stake in it for me, too. I'm the parent of a preteen kid who often is deeply disappointed in the way stories turn out, and I've been encouraging them, in the spirit of fan fiction, to imagine their own way the story could go. That the "official" TV show is also just someone's imagination, and that they can explore the characters and stories in their own world. (Most kids just stop watching/ reading the story instead when that happens.) Whenever we talked about this (a lot.), I had AO3 in mind, as a space they might grow into. Navigating this as a shared space of very different ages and backgrounds is a learning experience, as with every space. But for a kid whose lifeline are stories, there is a huge difference between "this tag contains x, which we know you feel is scary/ creepy, so better keep out" (or even "everything but that specific tag might contain x, so watch out"), and "this entire site is created by and for adults, and you're not allowed to enter", which would honestly be heartbreaking to me.

Some nuance re: "everything but the kids' section/ channel might contain disturbing/ "adult" stuff":

Not really, though?. .. Taking libraries as an example, there's the kids' section, there's natural sciences, and there's crime fiction. Only one of them I'd expect to encounter murder stories in, and possibly graphic sex. With tv, it's different, we don't watch that at all, but when I watched as a kid, there wasn't a kids' channel at all, but dedicated time slots for kids' programs, mostly in the morning. The afternoon would be ST:TNG and similar stuff, from 8 pm you'd expect violence/ scary/ mostly boring stuff, and sex really only after midnight.

That is not the way kids watch stuff now at all, though, where they watch Let's Play channels of their favorite games and you really do need to put in parental controls and/or watch like a hawk/ and/or do really, really thorough communication so your 8 year old doesn't get pulled into some algorithm-driven hellhole. Still, most of us would agree that that is actually a bad thing, and that the sectioning/ tagging/ timeslotting or whatever is actually nice and practical and helpful, not only for kids, but also for adults.

Maybe instead of asking what if a kid sees/hears this adult thing, we ask why is that kid in an adult space and get them to leave, instead of forcing all the adults to change and cater to the child who wandered into THEIR SPACE.

[deadbeatbirdmom]

Happy Valentine's Day my fellow RWBY fans. This should be a day focused on love. Which is why I'm going to talk about something that's been troubling me for a while. This isn't about any single post, and I'm not singling anyone out. I'd put this under a read more cut but I think it's important enough not to do that. Scroll down for TLDR and a poll.

One of the common courtesies of tumblr etiquette is: don't tag hate with things like a ship tag or character tag. Or should be common, but let's face it, it's more like uncommon.

A good chunk of tumblr users who I end up blocking are those who post hate in tags like the 'Bumbleby' tag, or 'Yang Xiao Long' tag (it'd be the 'RWBY' tag too, but I don't often go there and rarely post in it). No, it's not toxic to block people, it's how you control your tumblr experience. It's how I avoid seeing hate, or try to.

But there are some tumblr users who I don't want to block but also end up putting hate in the tags: some of my fellow fans. It's not intended the same way as those who do it out of spite, but the end result is the same: your fellow fans end up seeing stuff they might prefer not to.

There's another rule, an old one that predates tumblr: don't feed the trolls. Don't give them attention. Please delete anon hate rather than answer it, although I definitely understand how trolling trolls can be fun. Just please don't tag it with the main tags or you'll do the anon's work for them if it's hate about a ship or character.

I see all too much fan art around that gets far less engagement than posts trying to fight back against hate (and unfortunately share the hate at the same time, especially when it's something from elsewhere like reddit or twitter). If you like the art, don't only hit that heart button, reblog it too!

RWBY fandom isn't dead, but we do need to do our part to encourage artists to make and share more art. Likes alone don't help the art get in front of more fans. I don't think everyone looks in the tags to find art, some will rely on those they follow reblogging art. This goes for sharing fic too! And giving fic writers comments (and kudos on AO3).

This is an appeal to keep negativity out of the main tags. I'm not saying you can't post whatever you want, just when it comes to tagging: please spare a thought for your fellow fans who are incredibly tired of negativity. If all else fails, maybe include a tag that can be added to filters? 'Wasps' for posts about Bumbleby hate, maybe?

I don't know about anyone else, but if I wanted to see hate and get angry, I'd be on twitter or reddit. I check tags here on tumblr to find fan art, and to see fellow fans talking about how much they love RWBY and its characters and ships, and find interesting theories and analysis.

I'm also not entirely sure how tumblr works with followed tags and words mentioned in posts. Do untagged posts still show up if the word appears in the post? Does that mean breaking the word with a backslash or something to avoid it showing up? I don't know, perhaps something to consider.

TLDR: please don't feed the trolls and don't tag hate with main tags. Show RWBY fan artists and fic writers some love and reblog their posts, and comment on fics!

One last thing: a poll to find out if I'm an outlier and posting hate is actually normal in this post-twitter world.

[jeffhardyjams]

“slamming hearts”

jey uso x reader ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡࣪ (smut 18+) 

(𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 - 4.0k +)

🏷️ - summary : wwe wrestler y/n and her rival jey uso intense rivalry turns into a passionate encounter in the janitors closet after a heated match with liv morgan & dom mysterio. leaving her breathless and questioning their complicated relationship.

you stepped into the gym, the cool air kissing your sweaty skin as you walked over to the bench press. you glanced up at the mirror, your eyes locking with jey's from across the room. "shit," you muttered under your breath. jey uso had been your rival in the wwe since you’d first hit the main roster, and you didn't need his negative vibes messing with your workout. "he's just trying to get under my skin," you thought, pushing out another set of reps.

"hey, mama," jey called out, his voice echoing through the nearly empty room. his brown hair was pulled back in a mullet, showcasing the tattoos that danced down the side of his shoulders. "what's got you so worked up today?" you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the smirk that tugged at your lips. jey always had a way of getting to you.

"just trying to stay on top, you know?" you shot back, not taking your eyes off the weights. you heard his footsteps approaching and felt his gaze on you. "you should try it sometime," you said, feeling a thrill of excitement as you sat up.

jey leaned against the bench, his muscular arms crossing over his chest. "i've been watching you, you know," he said, his tone light but with an underlying edge of challenge. "you're getting sloppy." you felt your heart race a little faster. you knew he was full of it, but you also knew he had a point. their match next week was for the tag team championships, and you needed to be on your a-game.

the tension in the room was palpable as you stood up, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. you were dressed in your usual gear - a pair of skin tight yoga shorts and a zebra crop top that showed off your abs. it was a style that screamed lita and jeff hardy, two of your all-time favorite superstars. "i don't need your help, jey," you said, trying to keep the flirtation out of your voice.

"oh, i'm not offering to help," he replied, a smug smile playing on his lips. "i'm just saying you might want to work on that moonsault. liv's not going to be so easy to beat." you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. jey had seen you practice that move a hundred times, and he knew it was your go-to.

"you're just jealous because you can't pull it off," you said, your voice a mix of teasing and annoyance. jey chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "maybe i could show you a thing or two," he offered, his tone dropping an octave.

"yeah, right," you said, turning to grab your water bottle. "you'd probably just drop me on my head." you took a swig, your eyes never leaving the mirror. "and then what would i do?" you added, raising an eyebrow.

"that's it, mama," jey said, his voice low and gruff. "you keep playing with fire, you're gonna get burned." the air between them grew thick with anticipation, their rivalry blurring the lines of friendship and desire.

"you're just pissed because i dyed my hair purple," you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "it throws you off, doesn't it?" jey scoffed, but you could see the flicker of interest in his eyes. "you think you're so clever," he said, taking a step closer. "but you know what they say about purple hair."

"what's that?" you asked, playing along.

"it's for bitches," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. your heart skipped a beat. you knew he didn't mean it - not really. it was just part of their back-and-forth banter. "and you know i'm not one to back down from a challenge."

"is that what you think i am?" you said, taking a step towards him. "a challenge?" jey's smile grew wider.

"aren't you, though?" he asked, his eyes roaming over your form. "the top raw monday night event, with the looks of lita and the heart of a lion. what's not to be challenged by?"

you rolled your eyes, but the compliment hit home. "flattery won't get you anywhere," you said, trying to sound dismissive, but your voice betrayed a hint of excitement.

his gaze grew more intense, and he leaned in closer. "but maybe i don't want to get anywhere," he whispered. "maybe i just want to see how far we can go together."

you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body, your pulse quickening. "you're not serious," you murmured, your eyes locked with his.

"oh, i'm dead serious, mama," jey said, his voice a low rumble. "we've got chemistry, and it's not just in the ring. we could be unstoppable."

you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body responded to his proximity. "and what about liv and dom?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation on track. "aren't you worried about our match?"

"fuck liv and dom," jey said, his voice filled with passion. "i'm worried about us. about what we could be."

you stepped back, needing some space. "we're just opponents, jey," you said, your voice shaky. "we're not a team."

"are we?" he challenged, taking a step towards you. "because it sure as hell feels like more than that to me."

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. jey's brown eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, the entire world fell away. all that mattered was the heat between you and the promise in his voice.

but then the gym door swung open, and the sound of footsteps broke the spell. jey stepped back, his smirk returning. "guess we'll have to table this discussion for now, mama," he said, winking at you. "we've got a tag title to win."

you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. but you knew he was right. the wwe was a business, and you had to keep your focus. "yeah," you said, forcing a smile. "business first."

---

as you both headed backstage for the big match, your mind raced. jey's words echoed in your head, and you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was more to your rivalry than met the eye.

the lights grew brighter as you approached the ramp, and you felt the energy of the crowd pump through your veins. you took a deep breath, pushing jey's flirty comments to the back of your mind. "you got this," you murmured to yourself, psyching yourself up.

your music hit, and the crowd erupted. you strutted out, soaking in the cheers, your heart pounding in your chest. jey followed close behind, his own entrance music blending with yours in a symphony of adrenaline. you locked eyes with liv and dom, the four of you ready to tear the house down.

the match began with jey and dom in the ring, their movements a dance of power and skill. jey tagged you in, and you sprang into action, the crowd chanting your name. you and liv went at it, each move more intense than the last. when liv countered your upper hook with a brutal knee to the stomach, you couldn't help but let out a real scream of pain.

the world spun as jey rushed to tag himself in, his eyes flashing with anger. he took liv down with a series of swift moves, and you watched, impressed despite yourself. when he tagged you back in, his hand lingering just a bit too long, you felt a surge of determination. "that's it, mama," he called out, his voice full of fire. "we're gonna take these titles belts."

you and jey were in sync now, moving as one as you took down liv and dom together. every slam and suplex was punctuated by jey's encouraging shouts. "you're mine, mama," he said, his voice low and fierce. "i got you."

you felt his confidence in you, and it spurred you on. when you saw your opening, you didn't hesitate. you climbed the ropes, poised for the moonsault that would seal the deal. but just as you were about to fly through the air, liv anticipated the move. she planted her knee firmly in your gut, sending you crashing to the mat.

pain exploded through you, and you could hardly breathe. you heard the crowd gasp, and then the thunderous applause as liv followed up with her iconic oblivion move, pinning you down for the three count. the referee's hand slapped the mat, and the bell rang out, signaling the end of the match.

defeated, you lay there, trying to catch your breath. jey was by your side in an instant, scooping you up and placing you on his broad shoulder. the crowd roared around you as he stormed backstage, your head spinning with the loss and the sudden change in his demeanor.

"what the fuck was that?" he snarled, his grip on your waist tightening. "i told you to stay focused." you knew he was just trying to cover his own frustration, but it still stung.

"i had it," you protested, your voice weak. "i had her."

"you had shit," he spat, his eyes blazing with anger. "you're always fucking around, playing games. you could have had this, but instead, you're just a fucking liability."

his words hit you like a slap in the face, but before you could respond, he slammed the janitor's closet door shut behind you. the room was small and cramped, the air thick with the scent of cleaning supplies.

---

suddenly, jey's expression changed. his eyes went from furious to hungry, and he set you down gently. "you know what, mama?" he said, stepping closer. "i think i've had enough of playing games."

you opened your mouth to argue, but before you could say a word, he crushed his lips to yours. the kiss was explosive, all the tension and desire between you finally unleashed. his hands found their way into your hair, pulling you closer, and you couldn't help but respond.

you kissed him back, your anger forgotten in the heat of the moment. jey's mouth was demanding, his tongue exploring yours in a way that made you melt. "that's it, mama," he murmured against your lips. "i got you."

you broke away, breathless, staring at him in shock. "what the hell, jey?" you demanded.

"what's wrong?" he asked, his voice still gruff with passion. "you felt that, too."

you couldn't deny it. your heart was racing, and your body was on fire. "we can't," you said, trying to regain some sense of composure. "we're... rivals."

but jey was relentless. "fuck rivals," he said, his hands sliding down to your hips. "i want you, mama. and i know you want me."

you opened your mouth to protest again, but the look in his eyes silenced you. there was something in that gaze that told you he wasn't going to take no for an answer. and maybe, just maybe, you didn't want him to.

his hands slid down to the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down. you gasped as the cool air hit your skin, but before you could react, his mouth was on you, hot and demanding. you felt your knees buckle, and he held you up, his arms like steel bars around your waist. "fuck, you're so sweet," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with need.

his tongue was a master, working you into a frenzy with every flick and swirl. you couldn't help but moan, the sound echoing off the metal walls of the closet. "yes, like that," you panted, your nails digging into his shoulders. jey didn't hold back, his groans of pleasure mixing with yours, sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

he was relentless, his movements growing more insistent as he brought you to the brink. "cum for me, mama," he ordered, his voice a deep growl. "let me taste you." and with that, you lost all control, your body shuddering with an intense orgasm that left you trembling in his arms.

you leaned against the shelves, trying to catch your breath. jey's eyes were dark with desire as he stared down at you, his chest heaving. "you're mine now," he said, his voice low and possessive. "and i'm not letting you go."

you stared at him, your thoughts racing. "jey," you began, but he cut you off with another kiss, his hands sliding under your shirt to caress your bare skin.

his touch was like fire, burning away all your objections. you moaned into his mouth, giving in to the passion that had been simmering between you for so long. his hands were everywhere, exploring and claiming you as if you belonged to him.

you felt his need pressing against you, and without thinking, you reached down to unbuckle his pants. jey groaned as you took him in your hand, stroking him firmly. "fuck, yes," he breathed, his eyes never leaving yours. "you want it, don't you?"

you nodded, unable to form words. jey's dominance was intoxicating, making you feel alive in a way you hadn't in a long time. "prove it," he said, a wicked smile playing on his lips. and with that, he picked you up again, this time setting you down on the edge of the sink. "ride me, mama," he said, his voice a demand.

you didn't hesitate. you straddled him, his cock sliding into you with a moan that was half pleasure, half relief. jey's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you began to rock back and forth. the water from the sink was cold against your back, a stark contrast to the fire burning in your core. you moved faster, chasing that feeling of release. "yes, just like that," he growled, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

his moans grew louder, filling the small space. you could feel the tension in his body, his muscles taut as he held onto you. jey's grip on your hips grew tighter, his nails digging into your skin. "you're mine, mama," he said, his voice hoarse with desire. "say it."

you leaned in, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered in his ear. "i'm yours," you murmured, your voice thick with need. it was a declaration that sent him over the edge. with a roar, he flipped you around, pushing you against the wall. you gasped as he slammed into you from behind, his movements punishing and raw. his hands held you in place as he pounded into you, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the closet. "fuck," you moaned, your body responding to the aggression in his every thrust.

his hips moved like a piston, driving you closer and closer to the brink. "yes, that's it," jey grunted, his breath hot on the back of your neck. "take it all, mama. you're mine.”

you felt your orgasm building, your muscles clenching around him. jey's grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. "fuck," he breathed, his voice strained. "i'm gonna cum."

and just like that, he did. you could feel him pulsing inside you, his warmth flooding you as he let out a guttural groan. for a moment, you were both lost in the haze of pleasure, your bodies connected in a way that transcended the rivalry that had brought you to this point.

you leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath. jey's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you up. "see what we can do together?" he murmured against your neck.

you nodded, your body still trembling. "we shouldn't have done that," you said, but your voice lacked conviction. jey chuckled, his breath tickling your skin. "tell that to your body, mama."

you couldn't argue with that. you felt alive in a way you hadn't in a long time, and despite the mess you'd just made, there was a part of you that didn't want this to end. but reality came crashing back as the sound of footsteps approached the closet. "shit," jey said, pulling away. "we've got to get out of here."

you straightened your clothes, your heart racing. what had you just done? you and jey, the two most fiercely competitive superstars on raw, had just had sex in a janitor's closet. but as he opened the door and ushered you out into the hallway, you couldn't help but wonder if this was just the beginning of something new. something that could either make or break both of your careers.

[ authors note ; i hope you guys enjoyed this imagineee 🫶🏼 please request any ideas you have in mind or scenarios!! i also OWN that layout and created it so please give credit if you use!! ** ]

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Got any fics where cross joins the bad sans? Preferably with a poly but I don't mind any other ships 💜

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

It's Just Casual… Right? by SXH1417 (Explicit, Incomplete)

"Do you need help?" Cross asked, nonplussed. The question itself was as jarring as the way it was said. Just deadpanned and maybe a little bored? He had the most blank expression on his face. Confused, Killer said, "Uh... What?" "Do you need help? With this?" Cross asked again, this time running a finger over the top of his pelvis. He didn't touch the straining magic, Killer still let out a whimper at the touch. "You... You really asking that?" (Additional tags in the beginning notes of each chapter.)

Haze by Askellie (Explicit, Complete)

That muddy, warm feeling in his bones? Cross is pretty sure it's just a fever. That throbbing, heavy feeling in his soul? Probably just Chara messing with him again. He's never felt this way before, but that doesn't mean it's anything to worry about. [Cross experiences heat for the first time. The rest of Nightmare's crew are as unhelpful as you would expect.]

It will take me a long time to recover, so please, hold my hand while I do by Abomination_X (Teen And Up, Complete)

Sometimes Cross still has trouble believing that this is real. He still has trouble believing that this isn't just a beautiful dream, that he won't wake up alone again, that he won't be surrounded by nothing but white and be left to suffer for all eternity. But everything is as real as it gets. He has a home, he has a pack who loves him and he's safe. Cross is safe. ——— Future edit: I wrote this when I was fourteen and it's not very good. I'm holding onto it for nostalgia reasons, but please don't expect much + don't let this be a judge of how I write now lmao. If you want a better written a/b/o fic I still have some :3

The Forgotten City by WhisperingEcho (Mature, Incomplete)

Then they appeared. Three figures, emerging from the shadows, their forms dark and wraithlike in the dim blue glow. At first, they seemed like nothing more than silhouettes. But as they stepped forward, more details emerged, each one more horrifying than the last. One of them - no, two of them - moved like animals, low to the ground, and one even crawling on all fours. Their bone-clad bodies shuddered, their movements unnatural, and Cross’ stomach turned. They were covered in a strange, greenish-black substance that glowed faintly, like algae festering on dead flesh. It clung to their forms in long tendrils, the sickly lichen-like growth looking as though it was the only thing keeping their decaying skin from falling off entirely. After his disownment, Cross finds himself wandering the world alone, until a skirmish with some wolves leaves him falling for some creatures leaving in an abandoned city inside a Hollowed Mountain. And they're just as loving as they are terrifying.

The Crime King by The_Borb_King_2020 (Not Rated, Complete)

"You truly are an idiot!" The spirit hissed the words out like poison as he glared at the wounded skeleton who was clinging to the balcony at night. The skeleton called Cross, only sighted quietly and watched the cops go by on the ground. _______________________ Cross knows that the city is a dangerous place, but he made the mistake of living there and found himself a job, a dangerous one that puts him at risk every time he does it. But what do you expect when you work for the crime king?

[zeppeli-reelstallbun]

poll time! pick my next nanami x reader fic !!

as a way to apologize for the fact that I’ll be dropping off the face of the earth this upcoming week, I thought I’d share a few of the ideas I’ve had so that you can decide which fic comes first! these will all be coming at some point, so I suppose this is an upcoming works update as well :)

requests and asks will also be open during this time, but I probably won’t reply or see them till I’m done academic weaponing!

details + voting under the cut:

omg hey! if you haven't read any of my other stuff (expected as this will be my first jjk post), rest assured that our bbg is in good hands. I know everything there is to know about the power of a rolled long-sleeve dress shirt paired with the ability to cook homemade meals... anyways, these would all be salaryman era because I’m ignoring what happened in shibuya coping. I’m coping.

without further adieu, your choices:

🌷You guys voted for Nanami in the gym concept poll, and I'm a woman of my word: Despite having a certian... distaste for the man, it appears the universe has other plans. You keep crossing paths, frustratingly enough. Sure, the gym membership might have been a company bonus, but did he seriously have to come during your dates and times? [sfw, likely 2/3 parts max if not a super long oneshot]

🌹Coworkers turned friends with benefits turned ‘oh my god no please don’t tell me we’re actually forming a connection, ewwww.’ [Gonna be straight up, you might find it beneficial to keep a spray bottle of holy water on your person at all times while reading this one. Plot? Maybe! I will be absolutely going off the walls feral for this man. I'm talking 'that is the most shameless thing I've read all day,' and 'why does she know that about the human body,' type feral. nsfw. obvi. very likely multi-part]

🌼You’ve been able to see the strange creatures your whole life, but this was the first time you’d seen one like that. Even worse, it seemed to be looming over the one coworker you couldn’t stand. Wait. Did he just look at it too? [sfw 1-2 chapters, maybe 3 if you cross your fingers or beg or something]

🍀He’s just had a horribly unlucky weekend, and because of it, must ask his assistant for the most tedious favor imaginable. What else can he do, though? He needs the help... [kinda forced proximity, sfw, not nessicarily romantic but would definitely be implied, oneshot in the true sense of the word. incredibly funny concept to me, but dry humor most likely]

🌻With tax season just around the corner (riveting concept already, I know, just stick with me) a certain company is looking to outsource a CPA for a month or two. Thankfully, Nanami knows the perfect candidate for the job… he just won’t mention that she’s his girlfriend. No, that would be nepotistic. Besides, surely the two of you could pretend not to know each other for a few months… right? [multipart with smut potential, but not a necessity. much more fluff and humor here as well, and I appreciate not having to write actual coworker romances all the time yk? also, I despise my accounting courses and I have to take at least one more to graduate, ugh. Mad respect to actual CPA's]

MY MASTERLIST   GET TAGGED WHEN IT COMES OUT

[onthewaytosomewhere]

alright peeps here we are it's once again hump day! Thanks to @suseagull5914 & @jmagnabo92 for the tags - let's do this shall we?

first i posted 2 lil silly fics for the ficwip hey, sweetheart even this week if ya wanna check them out (BOTH FIRSTPRINCE EVEN!! ) If you want to know if he loves you so ... (It’s in his kiss) (which some of y'all may recognize bits of from last summer and a couple silly ficlets) & sweet as chocolate (a cute lil professors firstprince fic) & ICYMI last week was groundhog day fic 'Cause you got me, and baby, I got you

okay i'm done pimping my stuff (well the already written stuff now it is time to introduce tumblr land to these 2 fics i'm back digging through and trying to make them put together fics that are gonna start the same and then branch off - they're both version of Alex being hired for Henry by the crown in some capacity AND OF COURSE BENEATH THE CUZ WHAT BETTER WAY TO INTRODUCE Y'ALL TO IT THAN SMUT-ISH WORDS LOLZ

Henry’s voice is barely more than a whisper as his grip on Alex’s waist tightens. “I need this … Alex, I need you right now.” Alex lets the admission hang in the air between them in all its raw and vulnerable honesty. Then he nods, his heart now pounding too, keeping his touch gentle, as he senses that is what Henry really needs. “Then I’m yours, Henry, for as long as you need.” Alex watches in the silence as Henry processes his words and as his expression softens. There is something else there a hint of gratitude, maybe, or possibly relief. Henry leans back on the sofa and pulls Alex with him. Alex sees the tension that’s been holding Henry together all day seem to unravel. His hands slide under Alex’s shirt, moving slowly, deliberately, as if taking his time to really savor the connection between them. Alex doesn’t reign himself in he lets his body respond instinctively, he feels his skin tingle under Henry’s touch. Alex matches Henry’s pace, keeping his movements deliberate, there is no rush. He wants Henry to feel in control and provide him the space to release the emotions Alex imagines he’s been bottling up all day. It feels like hours that they stay in this bubble—exploring each other with slow, languid touches. The light from the fireplace and the quiet of the room wrap around them. Any urgency that might have been in their earlier kisses gives way to something intimate and tender. Alex senses Henry’s need for someone who sees him, not as a prince in this moment but a man who just wants to be held and cared for—understood even.

okay tag ur it (in a no-pressure all that jazz way) @adreamareads @alasse9 @blueeyedgrlwrites @catdadacd @caterpills

@dezinthecloud @dreamtigress @emmalostinwonderland @eusuntgratie @faketrex

@firstprincehornyramblings @firstsprinces @forever-fixating @freyjaexplores @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@jafffacakess @judasofsuburbia @kj-bee @lizzie-bennetdarcy @miharaikko

@mikibwrites @msmarvelouswinchester @piratefalls

@porcelainmortal @priincebutt @royal-chandler @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse

@stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes @taste-thewaste @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england

@typicalopposite @thesleepyskipper @thighzp @tinyarmedtrex @zwiazdziarka

[mogruith]

OC Deep Dive Tag

Thanks for tagging me @majorasnightmare!! This was a really awesome thinking exercise. It took me way longer than it should've to finish (work has been a lot lately) but I finally did it.

No pressure tags for @susann-noir @nemo-of-house-hamartia @mystxmomo @autisticdrizzt @twilight-sanctuary @albweado @moonshine-over-troubled-water any OC of your choice.

Phobias and Other Fears

Being alone. Or being far from his sister for extended periods. He's had his twin sister by his side his whole life and they've always looked out for each other. When she's not near him, it's as if he's lost a sense or a limb. He's managed this a few times but he absolutely hates it. Stagnation. Improve or perish. Climb that ladder, boy. For like actual phobias, I feel like I should mention his fear of Lolth but I think it's eclipsed by his anger. That said, spiders get the side-eye. But I'm not sure I'd call it a phobia.

Pet Peeves

Slow decision making and waffling. If you need to draw out a plan and take the time to do it, that's one thing. If you are indecisive, Coranzan is going get impatient and try to take over. Yes, he's kind of a dick. Additionally, talking down to him/being patronizing/dismissive.

3 items you could find in their bedroom

Coranzan keeps very little besides his armor, high-quality clothing, and a couple instruments - but those are boring things to list. There'd be items that allude to his vanity - an elaborate grooming kit, scented oils, and white dye that Z'ress uses to paint on Coran's forehead markings. Bonus: You'd also find a box of silver and moonstone knickknacks collected by his sister and donated to him. She tends to get sticky fingers and then gives some of the Eilistraee-adjacent items to him as something of an offering as a lay-worshipper. As they're seen as gifts from Eilistraee, he wears or keeps them until he can find a temple to offer them.

First thing they notice in a person

Probably a common answer but eyes are the window to the soul. Although he grew up avoiding eye contact, he has discovered the power in keeping his gaze locked on another's. Whether he's searching them to detect if they're enjoying a story he's telling or if they're lying, it's been beneficial skill.

On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

I'd say something like a 7-8 or so. Pretty high pain tolerance but not absurdly so. I think it kind of came with the territory of some of his past work.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Fight for sure. Coranzan is fairly good at assessing the field and determining a path forward in a time-sensitive situation. It's not always the best or the safest path but it IS a well-reasoned path in a dire situation. The big picture/large scope planning belongs to his sister.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

A big family? No, at least he's not aware of most of whoever might exist outside his immediate family. But connected to his immediate family? Absolutely. Besides being tied at the hip with his twin sister, Z'ress, he's also very close to his parents. His parents' faith were inspiration to his path of becoming a Cleric of Eilistraee. He also has a grandmother who has managed to survive long enough to still be in his life and an uncle on his father's side that they're close with.

What animal represents them best?

The only animal I've ever thought about is night-singing birds like blackbirds and nightingales: I feel like Coranzan liked hearing them at night when he first came to the surface and became really fond of them. Also, I feel like we've all envied a bird's ability to fly away from whatever situation they're in.

What is a smell that they dislike?

The smell of exhaust and lubricants from machines and mechanical constructs like the Steel Watch. Coran hadn't encountered very many of these kind of creatures before, but encountering so many in Baldur's Gate resulted in a strong dislike of the smell.

Have they broken any bones?

Coran is a pretty nimble person but also has a tendency to go pretty hard on whatever new skill he's obsessed with. So I'll say he's probably broken a bone or two in his time but he's pretty good at avoiding it usually.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

A stranger would likely get the aloof version of Coranzan. Unless he needed something of that stranger, then he'd turn on the charm. The aloof version of Coran would be quiet with constant studying looks, and intense eye contact. This would probably come off as intimidating to some, especially given he's obviously drow. The charming version of Coranzan would be all smiles and definitely trying to get you to forget that he's drow. He's all compliments, winks, and friendly taps to the shoulder/arm. A stranger's opinion will certainly vary based on what side they get but either way, he is a rather pretty face and that lets him get away with a lot among strangers (depending on their view of drow, ofc).

Are they a night owl or morning bird?

Night owl. Fuck the sun. Despite having been on the surface long enough to adjust, he is uncomfortable under it. Sadly, surfacers operate around the gods damned sun, so between that and Coran just generally not able to sit still for long, Coran doesn't get a lot of rest.

What is a flavour they hate and a flavour they love?

First of all, Coran is terrible at cooking and probably hates anything he's made in the field, to start. But broadly flavor-wise, Coranzan hates spicy/picante flavors (which hurts me deeply in my soul), and prefers earthy flavors. On the surface, he's come to appreciate the herbs and spices that can be added to those earthy flavors though.

Do they have any hobbies?

Song collecting (by ear), dancing (not just the Eilistraee-type stuff), reading different cultures fables, journaling/letter-writing, and some kind of skill-based strength training activity in rotation: think bodyweight progressions, gymnastics, rock-climbing.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Surprises in general? Coranzan can roll with the punches and pivots easily, at least with regards to pleasant things. A BIRTHDAY party in particular would be really unexpected. By now, everyone's seen the lore bit about how drow men don't celebrate their birthdays. Coran's birthday was celebrated vicariously through his sister's birthday (given they're twins) and in private, they would celebrate together. But someone ELSE in on this? He'd probably have a very strong emotional reaction to it - primarily feeling really bashful about it to start but very quickly LOVING the attention lavished upon him suddenly.

Do they like to wear jewellery?

Yes - although most of my images of Coranzan do not show any jewelry (he removes everything when "on duty"), he likes to wear a lot of silver rings and piercings along his ears.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Neat handwriting - Coran writes a lot and eventually writes some of his stories and songs in an ornate style for his collections. He then hands these off to his sister for border decorations. A series of these are kept in a folio he keeps around.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Pride and inadequacy occupy his mind in the quiet moments. For the most part, he feels he's pretty accomplished given how he started as a dirt-poor drow male in Menzoberranzan with no prospects. But then again, comparatively speaking, he hardly amounts to anything and has spent so much time attempting to accomplish the bare minimum (in his mind) - it sometimes feels like he's behind.

Do they have a favourite fabric?

First off, Coran would rather NOT be wearing a lot of clothes (or any at all if he can get away with it). But when he does, it has to be something lightweight and comfortable for him to tolerate it (you can imagine how much he hates wearing heavy armor). Mix that with the fact that he's a bit of a peacock when it comes to clothes, so he'd prefer fancy silks if he can get his hands on them. When he does, he takes meticulous care of it so it lasts.

What kind of accent do they have?

Coranzan was born in a pretty dirt-poor part of Menzoberranzan, so his baseline accent was Deep Drow. He's now spent somewhere around 130-ish years out of Menzoberranzan - split between the Undermountain and Waterdeep. So his Common is decent enough but a slight accent remains - he spends much of his time conversing with his family and other drow, so he can go a long time without speaking Common on the surface, depending where he is in his life. As a side-tangent: He can imitate the noble sound of High Drow to a limited extent and sometimes borrows the phrasing of that dialect to imply a noble sound in theatrical story-telling. Although he has a very good ear for the sound, he hasn't been around it enough to speak it enough to pass for a noble - the result of is a rugged take on a noble sound that can be endearing to some or hated by others. Shout out to @mystxmomo for their awesome discussion on Drow dialects to get my head straight on some of that (although I'm inserting some of my own minor stuff here).

[my-archived-blog]

rules: tag nine people you want to get to know better

(I always badly overthink these kinds of things but I'll do my best to just answer as well as I can!)

Tagged by @strohller27 (thanks and I greatly enjoyed reading about you! 💖)

Favourite Colour: I adore them all but I'm partial to the blue-green spectrum and also love black/white

(I see that "u" you snuck in there! Love it!)

Currently Reading: Pornland by Gail Dines, but I've been too distracted by other things lately to spend much time reading!

Last Song: I can't remember exactly as I've been listening on shuffle to a huge playlist of songs that remind me of Poirot and Hastings, but I think it might have been For Me... Formidable by Charles Aznavour (lyrics) !

(Математика was very fun to discover!)

Last Movie: Rewatch of Mamma Mia and its sequel! I'm a sucker for musicals and have so many great memories attached to those two movies

Last Series: Last newly-discovered series would be Poirot (and still fairly obsessed with it as you can see), but I've also been rewatching a few episodes of Glee with my partner for a bit of unhinged-but-fun nostalgia

Sweet, Savoury, Spicy: Tough choice! I'd say I can live without spicy, but I need to have a balance of sweet and savoury every day!

Craving: Vegan tuna, I love mixing it into a nice tasty ramen — but I can only consistently find the packed-in-oil kind which I never liked! Still holding out hope for the packed-in-water brands to become more accessible here...

Tea/Coffee: I never drink coffee but I occasionally enjoy all kinds of light teas or tisanes!

Currently working on: Two writing projects, including a Poirot fanfic — very excited! I'm also trying to improve my art, keep up on physical therapy, and finish up an important translation contract.

(Congrats on the new job!!)

With no pressure, I will tag: @sherlockshawklikenose , @statrosapristinanomine , @tinta11e , @darthlenaplant , @rknchan , @pflanzidiezimmerpflanze , @marymcdivan , @lostinamazon , @chicaqueenvixenstyle

(Very sorry about any repeat tagging, I don't know many people yet!)

rules: tag nine people you want to get to know better

Tagged by @indrid-hot - thanks a bunch!

Favorite Color: A nice, warm, sunny orange - but also honestly most other colors of the rainbow and then some.

Currently Reading: The Tevinter Nights Dragon Age short story collection.

Last Song: L'appuntamento - Ornella Vanoni

Last Movie: Ah, gosh. HM. I haven't watched anything that's not a TV show in a while. I semi-voluntarily caught the last fifteen minutes of Scrooged over the winter holidays I guess?

Last Series: Last series I watched any part of is, as always, "Emergency!" because I will never not be stuck in 70's paramedic hell. If we're talking new-to-me shows, a friend's making me watch Grey's Anatomy (early seasons) once a week, probably because observing my growing despair about the characters' poor life choices is fun. I don't even normally watch medical shows, and yet here we are lol

Sweet, Savoury, Spicy: Savory if I had to pick

Craving: Some good spaghetti with olive oil and obscene amounts of lightly toasted garlic.

Tea/Coffee: Yes please, lol

Currently working on: OH BOY WHAT A QUESTION.

Spinning: Gotland on my spindles (4-ply, one single per spindle, for funsies - except I accidentally mixed up which bits of fiber go with which single on which spindle, so that'll be fun to sort out...), 7oz/200g of red Merino on the wheel (for a crochet hat, followed by 9.5 oz of red and black Merino for a woven scarf). But also 24.5oz/700g of grey Merino. And cotton on the supported spindle. And I've got some laceweight viscose on the mini turkish spindle that I should really work on...

Crocheting: Half a dozen things, including a lacy collar that needs buttons and blocking, a gigantic star-shaped wrap-around shawl, an incredibly boring granny square top for my little sister, and too many others to count.

Art: The Emergency! tarot as the eternal never-ending WIP; I also have some Dragon Age Veilguard related plans revolving around the Grand Necropolis and irl Catacomb Saints and I'd love to get some DA-style tarot cards done for all my player characters.

Writing: I still have a couple unfinished fanfics that need another chapter, as well as two deeply self-indulgent OC/Emergency! crossovers that friends are making me write, and I also have some Dragon Age stuff in the works - though if anyone will ever see that is another question entirely.

Music: Practicing various stuff for LARP; also slowly chipping away at Hozier's Work Song because my partner asked nicely.

With no pressure, I will tag: @geminyde, @caseyscraftycorner, @swords-n-spindles, @alpacazappa, @rosesonneptune, @rose-of-pollux, @zooarchaeologyatdinner, @kalikatze aaaaand I can't decide on a 9th person to tag so whoever wants to do this: You're It!

[geraldmariaivo]

Another one of these

Damian’s new classmate is odd, though not nearly as unpleasant to be around as everyone else at the school.

He doesn’t seem to be from wealthy family, but he also seems mostly unconcerned with the punishments doled out by the school for “getting into fights with his peers,” unlike many of the students in on academic programs. He thinks himself stupid, but Damian would be worried about having him as a rogue from the things he’s seen the boy tinkering with if he didn’t know that Fenton had his heart set on NASA. He’s clumsy, but it seems to be out of habit rather than any true issues with balance and spatial awareness. He filled in Damian’s gaps in knowledge concerning social structures and how to operate within them, with only minimal prompting. Whenever Damian forgot a word or figure of speech in English, and used the equivalent in a different language, Fenton always understood.

He has a dog that he has yet to let meet, but claims that “Cujo isn’t really my dog, he just hangs around.”

He is clearly metahuman. If the abnormal body temperature, changing eye color, and ability to avoid Damian so consistently weren’t enough evidence, then the fact that his presence made Damian so at ease, made him feel safe, energized, and reassured of his own competence in some strange way the not even his father or Richard could, was the nail in the coffin.

Naturally, Damian sought out his company during lunch and group projects.

It was only logical to evaluate Fenton so as to make sure he knew what to expect should the boy be controlled either by extortion or by any of the rogues’ mind control methods. It was only a beneficial side effect that doing so made Damian feel safer, made his thoughts of inadequacy quiet down, and made it easier to rest without a weapon. It also helped that Fenton didn’t question things like most of his family did. His peer didn’t ask why he needed a nap after a 3-day weekend with no homework. He didn’t ask why Damian was out “sick” so often. He simply handed Damian a sleeping mask to make it easier to rest, even if he didn’t fall asleep. He gave Damian a guide to the shorthand he used for class notes, and filled him in on what he missed whenever he came home from being “ill.” He offered smuggled-in over the counter medications during study sessions freely, and with no question as to why Damian favored his right leg for the next week or so.

Damian saw Fenton during patrol once, when he and Batman had gotten to the crime scene after Fenton had broken the ribs of one of the robbers.

Damian would even go so far as to call Fenton his peer in his civilian life, though he would appreciate it if the rest of his siblings would stop teasing him about his “new friend,” and asking him “when are you going to invite your friend over?”

As tempting as it was to stab them into stopping it, he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Alfred’s disappointed stare.

This fondness for Fenton was the only reason he didn’t immediately hold a knife to the boy’s throat when it was clear that he knew about what had happened.

“What had happened” being Damian falling through his chair, and partway into the ground with no warning.

That, and Fenton’s response of “Damn, this is the first time I’ve seen you fall through something all year. What made you finally slip up? Family issues? Death day coming up?”