#as well this being the first time i��m making my own patch!!

[captainfern]

*comes sniffing in your ask box for treats*

throwing in a silly little request for Simon and Price sharing a partner maybeeee? ily 👉👈

🐩

Fade To Black

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader x Captain John Price

["Fade To Black" by Metallica]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - your boyfriend's love making you feel good <3 that's the summary lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, all porn zero plot<3, established poly relationship, oral [f!receiving], fingering, m!masturbation, voyeurism?, unprotected piv, soft!ghost [use of pet names, praise, obsessed boyfriend things], implied dom!price [minor degradation, minor dumbification], ghost loves you, price loves you too, breeding kink [predictable with my writing i know 😭], both men are possessive, strong language

🍪 - for you !! with a side of cod smut, of course ;3

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

Your relationship with John and Simon was, quite possibly, one of the best aspects of your life.

They both took care of you so well, and ensured you had everything you could possibly need. They both spent quality time with you, together and individually, and both spoiled you like good boyfriend's should. They both protected you, too– Simon's hand on the small of your back in public, shooting dark glares at other people brave enough to glance in your direction– John's warm hand in yours, guiding you through a crowd, his thumb brushing soothing stripes across your knuckles.

Both of them loved you. Both of them were totally, utterly obsessed with you.

How could they not? You were just so good for them. Always worrying about them, patching up the wounds they often returned home with, cooking for them after a long day working. You tended to their needs first, in more ways than one– example, you never complained about dropping to your knees in front of them if they needed some kind of release.

God, they loved that part. They loved the part of you that was so eager to be good for them. Both of them. How willing you are to let them toss you back and forth between one another, bend you over the couch, spread you out on the rug, pin you up against a wall. Obviously, they loved everything about you, but a pretty thing like you being theirs and theirs alone? A blessing.

But just as much as you loved to service them, they loved to service you. It was in their nature, of course. Looking after their girlfriend? Their future wife? It was instinct.

And besides, even when it was their turn to give more, you were still always good for them.

Late one evening, John returned home and kicked off his shoes. Usually, you'd rush to the door to greet him, even if you did have to wriggle your way out of Simon's hold sometimes. You'd wrap your arms around him and hug him tight, and he'd return the hug with a kiss to the top of your head.

This time was different. You didn't rush into the entry-hall to greet him with the most beautiful smile. Instead, John was greeted by complete silence as he walked further into the flat.

Well, it wasn't complete silence.

Other times where you'd failed to greet him, he couldn't help but frown. This time, his lips quirked into a knowing smile as he made his way towards the living room.

Your breathy whimpers filled the flat, paired with your own laboured breathing and low grunts from Simon. He had you sitting upright on the couch, your legs folded over his shoulders as he kneeled on the ground in front of you, his face between your legs. Simon's grip was tight on your thighs, gripping the flesh and holding your legs in place, which were now beginning to tremble. He grunted with each flat lick of his tongue up your wet folds, followed by another low-pitched noise when he shoved his tongue deep into your cunt, his nose nudging your puffy clit.

You had a handful of his dark blond hair, almost brown in the low light of the living room, fisting it tightly as you arched against the couch. Your eyes were closed, your mouth parted as more whimpers fell from your lips, including whines of Simon–! which made Simon moan against you. He was painfully fucking hard in his trousers.

John watched from the doorway for a moment, leaning his shoulder against it, listening to your sounds. After a moment, Simon pulled away from you for just a moment to utter "Look who's home, baby" before sliding his tongue back inside you.

John couldn't help but chuckle at the fact Simon knew he was there without even turning around.

Your eyes flew open, immediately finding John's. You sucked in a breath, trying to hold your whimpers at bay, long enough to greet him with watery eyes and a small pout.

"John." You keened, eyes immediately closing as Simon's pace picked up. You let out a loud moan that made John's cock twitch in his trousers as he crossed the room and sat beside you on the couch.

He leaned over to kiss you– smoothing his lips against yours before slipping his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss by grabbing hold of your jaw and angling your face closer to his. You moaned into his mouth, his other hand finding the back of your neck, pinning you in place so he could lick further into your mouth.

Below, Simon grunted into your core, muffled. John pulled out of the kiss, still holding your head, looking down to meet Simon's eyes.

"Got something to say?" John asked, cocking his head to the side. You whimpered in his hold, and Simon's eyes darted from John to you, and back and forth a couple times.

John knew Simon all too well. Each time you let out the smallest whimper, the breathiest whine, the longest moan, his cock would twitch, growing harder in his boxers. He loved the noises you made. So with John kissing you...

John smirked, slotting his mouth back against yours, his eyes still on Simon. You moaned into his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut. The noises were quiet now, just deep hums in the back of your throat. Simon's brows pinched as he glared at John. John winked at him.

Simon grunted against your cunt, his tongue moving in and out of you. Small dribbles of your slick slipped down his face, coating his chin as his efforts increased, pace quickening, nose pressing tighter against your little bundle of nerves. He could hear the way you were moaning into the kiss, and his eyes remained firmly on your face.

He knew you were close. Your thighs were slowly tightening around his head, and you were arching further off the couch. Your thighs quivered in his hold, the slick walls of your cunt pulling tighter around his tongue. He groaned into you, letting one hand run up your thigh and over your mound, cupping you there while this thumb pressed heavily against your clit. He rubbed fast circles and finally, finally, you broke the kiss– pulling away from John to moan, "S-Si, fuck, please– please, please–!"

Before John could pull you back into the kiss, you came around Simon's tongue. You moaned, long and drawn out, as Simon licked you through it, still thumbing your clit gently. The sound filled Simon's head, making him reciprocate his own moan, lips parted against the slick mess of your core. He continued swiping licks up your folds, around your leaking hole, until you were squirming against him, John placing kisses along your jaw.

Simon pulled away, kissing your thighs as he went. After placing one final kiss to your inner knee, he got to his feet, knees cracking as he pushed overtop of your body, shunting John out of the way so he could grasp your face and kiss you.

John let out a laugh. "S'that how it's going to be tonight, hm?"

Simon didn't respond. He simply cupped your face and pinned you back against the couch. His knee slotted between your legs as he kissed you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You tasted yourself when your tongues met, and you whimpered his name into his mouth.

When Simon– begrudgingly– ended the kiss, he flopped down on the other side of you. But he pulled you with him, grasping your hips and pulling you into his lap, your back against his chest. He immediately attached his mouth to the curve of your neck and shoulder.

John watched you and Simon for a moment. "Has he been treating you well, sweetheart?"

You nodded, Simon's arms now winding their way around your midriff, holding you to him. Your head lolled back to allow Simon more room, but your eyes remained on John.

"D'you have a good day?" You asked.

"Mhm," John replied simply. "I missed you, though."

"Missed you too." You mumbled, eyelids fluttering when Simon sucked harder, skimming his teeth against your sweat-slicked skin.

John cocked his head, watching your expressions for a moment. He smiled, content, before grabbing a half-smoked cigar from the ashtray at the end of the couch. He relit it, and the familiar sound of the lighter clinking had your eyes opening like some sort of Pavlovian response.

John inhaled and then exhaled, smoke curling out above his head. You watched him with glistening eyes, and he could see your focus drifted across the way his fingers held the cigar. His smile widened, and he lifted his free hand, beckoning you over to him with a curl of two fingers.

Straight away, you weaselled yourself free of Simon's hold. He frowned.

Of course, he let you go and you didn't actually force his hands away. If he wanted you to stay, his arm's wouldn't have even budged.

You crawled into Price's lap, smiling at him when his free hand rested hot and heavy against the bare expanse of your lower back.

"Hold this for me." He whispered, grabbing his cigar and handing it to you. You took it from him, a wisp of smoke fluttering across the skin of your cheek.

His other hand skimmed down the front of your body, over the dips of your breasts and tummy, until he reached your cunt. He groaned when he ran two fingers down your folds. You were so fucking wet. With ease, he slipped his fingers into your sopping cunt, straight to the knuckle. You hummed low in your throat, head tilting forward.

"Fuck, you're wet," John muttered, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. "S'this just from getting your pretty pussy eaten, hm? S'all this 'cause've Simon?"

You moaned. "Yes–!"

Behind you, Simon grunted, and was pulling his cock out of his trousers and fisting it slowly. His eyes watched the two of you closely, the head of his cock leaking pre-cum. What was left of your arousal on his fingers, he smeared it across the hard shaft of his cock, his other hand cupping his balls as you rocked yourself against John's fingers.

John chuckled lowly. "Naughty fucking girl, aren't you, sweetheart? Listen to how wet this cunt is." He pulled his fingers out and then thrusted them in roughly; the sound eliciting was a loud, wet squelch that made your tummy flutter. John hummed, appraising you with dark eyes. "So fucking wet, isn't she, Simon?"

Simon grunted, the movement of his hand speeding up. He jerked his cock, gripping tighter at the base, pausing only briefly to thumb at the reddened tip.

John grinned, then nodded at the cigar you were still holding. You got the hint, drowsily holding it out for him to take into his mouth. He inhaled deeply, and you pulled it away when the hand on the small of your back danced upwards. He cupped your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. He exhaled the smoke into your mouth and you whimpered as you felt it sting the back of your nose and throat.

The kiss was wet, messy, and tasted of smoke. His tongue was relentless against yours, saliva pushed from the corners of your mouth, running down your chin as he forced more and more whimpers from you. He continued to fuck you with his fingers, adding an abrupt third while he sucked on your tongue, before pushing his tongue back into your mouth with a grunt. The smoke was bitter in your mouth, his saliva tasting of it, but it made you moan out anyway– a sound that had Simon dropping a whispered "oh, fuck" behind you.

The heel of John's hand pressed hard against your swollen clit, causing your entire lower body to shudder. The sensation of three of his big fingers inside you was enough to have the pleasure in your lower stomach rise. The roughness of the digits inside you, thrusting against your warm, slick walls and that spongey spot inside you, had your head spinning.

"John, m'gonna– please can I come?" You mewled out, almost dropping John's cigar as your fingers began to tremble.

"You wanna come?" John whispered. "You wanna come? And you're asking your captain for permission? What a good fucking girl you are, sweetheart."

You always loved it when both your boyfriends brought their ranks home. Maybe it was because you were a civilian, but it always had you feeling some type of way.

You mewled again, high-pitched at his words. Behind you, you could hear Simon grunting and groaning, and the wet fap fap fap's of him stroking his cock. You wished you could see it. He always looked so pretty when he jerked off. Such a pretty boy.

"Come 'round your captain's fingers, then. Go on," John said, fingers nailing that spot inside you each time. "And kiss me while you come."

You did– when your orgasm crashed over you, you crashed your mouth onto John's. You shook against him, cunt squeezing his fingers tightly and thighs shaking against his lap. You whined his name into his mouth as, once again, his tongue found yours, pushing more of the acrid taste of smoke into your mouth. His free hand left the back of your head and he plucked the cigar from your hand when he pulled away from the kiss. He placed it back into the ashtray, his other hand leaving the wet heat of your cunt. He grabbed hold of your hip and began grinding you down against the bulge in his trousers. You blew out a long, whiney breath.

Behind you, Simon's orgasm was approaching. Tired and bordering overstimulated, you managed to turn your body to watch Simon as John slowly rocked you against his lap. You whimpered out "you're so pretty, Si" when you finally got a good look at the way he was fucking his fist, his hair dishevelled, lower face still shining with your slick. His cock twitched in his hand at your words, and he moaned your name. Your clit began to throb with need.

"Christ," Simon hissed. "Can– fuck– can I come on your tummy, baby?"

"Please." You whined, butterflies filling your stomach.

John helped you twist in his lap until your back was against his chest. Simon got off the couch and approached, still pumping his cock with his lower lip snagged between his teeth. He grunted with each movement of his hand.

Meanwhile, John weaved his arms around you, large palms cupping your tits as he leaned back further against the couch, exposing more of your midriff to Si. He squeezed your tits, rolling your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefingers, his smoky breath brushing over your shoulder. He nosed at the pulse behind your ear, eyes watching Simon as more pre-cum leaked from the blond's cock.

"Beg for Si, sweetheart," John whispered in your ear, loud enough for Simon to hear. When you whined, John tutted in your ear, rolling your nipples harder between his fingers. "Use your words."

You gasped out. "Fuck– please, Si. Want your– oh, fuck– want your cum, please."

Simon's mouth dropped open, a guttural groan following as he jerked his cock once, twice more, before pushing his hips towards you. He came in hot spurts, covering the soft shape of your tummy in stripes of milky white. He grunted out your name, fisting his semi-hard cock with cum-covered knuckles.

"Fucking hell..." Si breathed, standing over you and John still. John let go of you, running his hands down your body soothingly.

He looked up at Si, who was now ripping his shirt over his head and pulling his trousers and boxers all the way off. John was the only one still completely dressed.

"You want her first?" John asked, rubbing your thighs. You leaned back into him, humming contentedly, eyes closed.

Simon cocked his head. "You don't–?"

"I'll watch first," John said with a smile. "Besides, I've got a cigar to finish."

The real reason John loved watching was, well, exactly that. He always loved watching how you reacted to Si– how you reacted to his touch, his mouth on your skin, his praise. He also loved the way Simon bullied his fat cock into the tight heat of your cunt. John's eyes almost closed in pleasure at the thought.

Simon offered John a grateful smile, before he was gently guiding you off of your other boyfriend's lap. He gathered you in his arms, hugging you for a moment. You squirmed slightly; his seed being smushed between the two of you.

"How do you want me, baby?" He asked you as John grabbed his cigar, situating himself more comfortably at the end of the couch, beginning to unzip his straining trousers.

"Want you on top of me..." You whispered, carefully prying yourself from Si's grasp and flopping onto the plush rug beneath you. You spread yourself out on the rug, sighing through our nose, your body on perfect display.

Simon was hard again. "On the floor?"

"Mhm..." You smiled at him, and you heard John chuckle in the background. You looked over at John. "So the captain get's a good view."

John cracked a smile. "Yeah? You want to get fucked on the rug like a good little whore, hm?" He had pulled out his cock by this stage, pumping himself slowly. Like Si, he was big, the tip reddened and leaking dribbles of pre-cum.

You smiled, biting your lower lip.

Simon settled onto the soft rug between your legs, large hands massaging your knees before grabbing the backs of them and pulling you closer to him. You couldn't help but giggle as you were yanked down the rug, but the giggle dissipated to a stretched out moan as you felt the solid warmth of his cock against your inner thigh.

He grasped his cock at the base, running the ruddy tip up and down your soaked folds. He hummed in pleasure, smearing more of your arousal against the curve of your arse and your inner thighs. The sensation made you shiver, and he squeezed your thigh in comfort.

"S'alright, baby, I'm here," Simon cooed, circling the wet tip of his cock around your swollen clit. "I'm right here..." He mumbled, dragging the tip through your folds until he reached your leaking hole, pressing against it gently.

Your back arched off the rug, your entire body heating up. The one hand he had on your thigh felt like it was burning you, searing into your skin. You whimpered out for him– Simon, Simon, Simon– hands scrambling for purchase, grabbing at the soft rug.

"I know, my girl, I know, 'm gonna give you what you want," he told you, circling the head of his cock over your cunt. More arousal leaked from you, meaning more arousal smearing onto his cock. He stuttered around a groan. "Such a p-pretty pussy, baby. So wet. And such a good girl, too. Been such a good girl for me and John."

John groaned from the couch, muffled around the shape of his cigar. He had stopped stroking himself, and was gripping his cock, hand resting near the patch of dark hair at the base. A hazy cloud of smoke hung in the air above him, and you could smell it– smell smoke, John, Simon, sweat and sex. You took a deep breath.

"Here you go, darling, take what you need," Simon whispered, leaning over your body to place a delicate kiss to your lips as he slid his cock inside you. His pace was deep and slow, dragging against your gummy walls and dragging embarrassingly loud noises from your mouth. Simon groaned too, the feel of your wet heat around him almost too much. When he bottomed out, he mouthed at the crook of your neck. "I love you."

Tears were in your eyes now. He was just so big. But he was so, so soft with you. Gentle.

"I love you too, Si," you said, kissing his cheek. You then looked over at John. "I love you too, captain."

John bit back a moan. Captain. Cheeky girl.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Simon shifted his hips, dragging his cock out of you. It glistened with your arousal, and it made his face grow hot. He bit back a whimper when he pushed inside you. You gasped, and he did it again. Again and again until he had a set a rhythm that had your entire body on fire, writhing against the rug.

"Si." You moaned, arms moving around his shoulders until the tips of your nails were scraping across the muscular planes of his back.

The head of his cock filled you deep, knocking up against the base of your cervix. The sounds were wet and lewd, paired with your moans and Simon's hushed grunts. John watched and listened, his cock twitching against his stomach as he pumped himself, his cigar resting between his lips.

"You feel so good, baby, fuck. Such a good fucking pussy," Simon grunted into your neck, before he lifted himself back up to look into your eyes. He ground his hips against yours, his cock bullying up against the plug of your womb, stretching you open. You mewled, high-pitched and desperate, scratching at his back. He smiled, strands of damp blond hair falling over his forehead. "That's it, baby, mark me up."

No doubt his back would be striped with red lines by the time he was done with you.

Your body was burning hot against the rug, sweat building at the base of your spine as that familiar knot in your stomach began to grow tighter– pulling and pulling as Simon fucked you.

He had both hands on your hips now, pulling your body to meet his with each of his timed thrusts. On the couch, John had to slow the movement of his hand so he didn't come too soon.

"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" He asked you, taking the cigar out of his mouth for a minute. "Is Simon making you feel good?"

"Yes..." You whined, overwhelmed. You felt so good.

John repressed a groan at the whine in your voice. "Then tell him. Tell him how good his cock feels inside your tight cunt."

Simon closed his eyes. "Christ, cap–"

You moaned, then moved one hand away from Si's back, to his head. You grasped a fistful of his hair and tugged gently, forcing your boyfriend's eyes to open and a strained moan to fall from his mouth. You kissed him, then uttered against his lips, "You're making me feel so good, Si. I l-love your cock– oh my god–!"

Si had reached a hand down and was now rubbing circles on your clit. Your words had his brain swimming, his thrusts deepening and pace quickening. The tight ball of pleasure was drawing tighter and tighter in the base of your tummy, your cunt fluttering around his cock.

"Yeah? You love this cock. baby?" Si mused, a noticeable quirk in the corners of his mouth. "Well, it's all yours, isn't it? S'your cock, jus' like this is our perfect– fuckin'– pussy."

Si punctuated the last three words with heavy thrusts, making you cry out. His words were slurring as his orgasm neared, sweat dripping down his abs.

Our.

That made John groan and come all over his hand and stomach. He moaned your name, head flopping back against the couch, the remnants of his cigar already in the ashtray. The moan of your name was followed by a "Jesus Christ, Simon."

"John–" You moaned, wriggling against the rug. You were so close, and as Simon maintained his deep, heavy thrusts, it wasn't long before your cunt was beginning to squeeze him tighter, your legs shaking around him.

"Please, Si," you gasped. "Please, please–! M'gonna, oh my god, m'gonna come– please don't stop."

Simon grunted above you, his fingers still working against your clit, his cock still rutting into you deeply.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered. "Come on my cock. That's it, baby, yeah– good fuckin' girl."

You came around his cock with a sob of his name, your cunt squeezing him tight as the ball of pressure snapped in your tummy. Your orgasm was hard, slamming over you and rendering you breathless, your head floating. Your clit pulsed beneath the movements of his fingers, and in your blissed out state, you vaguely noticed the shapes he was drawing across your clit.

S... I... M... O...

That cheeky son of a bitch.

N...

You sobbed out, your orgasm finally settling and your body going lax against the rug. Simon moved his fingers away from your clit, and used both hands to grab each of your knees. He bent your legs, pushing them up against the rest of your body, folding you in half so he could split you deeper on his cock.

You wanted to scream. He was hitting so deep. You were so fucking full.

"Good girl..." You heard John mutter behind you. That made your stomach flip.

Simon was close. He was huffing, grunting. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated so much his eyes almost looked black. His gaze never left your face as he pounded into you, his cock sliding against your slick walls, drawing dribbles of your arousal out of you with each thrust.

"M'gonna come in this tight cunt," Si whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. He spoke louder when he continued his sentence. "You want my cum, baby? You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up, fill this pretty tummy?"

"Please–!" You sobbed.

"I will, pretty girl, I will. Want you to take it all... take it all like a good girl," he moaned. "Get you– get you pregnant. Fill you up with my kids. I'd look after you, baby. We'd look after you."

You were almost crying now.

"M'comin', baby," Simon all but growled above you. "Take it all. Take it, take it, take it–"

He came, moaning around your name. He came a lot, too– liquid warmth flooding your insides, leaking out around the shape of his cock, punching a moan from his lungs. You shook beneath him, trickles of his cum dripping down the soft flesh of your arse.

He didn't pull out. He simply moved to the side and kept you hugged against him, lying against the rug with you. He looked up at John, who was still sitting on the couch, half-dried cum splattered across his shirt.

Simon smiled. "Join our girl and I on the rug, cap?"

John smiled in return. "No time for rest, Simon. It's my turn."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

ended it here cause i'm lazy but i hope you enjoyed x

[hongism]

BOUNCY. - j. yunho, c. jongho (m)

➼ genre; smut ➼ pairing; yunho x fem!reader x jongho ➼ au; outlaw/mechanics!2ho, dystopian futurism, lore accurate ateez ➼ warnings; explicit smut, some terribly unfunny mechanic jokes i’m really sorry ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 4.9k

‘Two for the price of one!’ the sign outside the shop had read, and well, you’ve never been one to pass up on a good deal.

part of the outlaw miniseries.

────────────

➼ smut warnings; piv, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, fingering, manual stimulation, pussy slapping, spanking, hair pulling, choking, sloppy seconds, creampie, pet names: sugar, sweets, dear & baby, dirty talk, breeding kink, name calling: bitch & slut, voyeurism & exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, dom yunho, sub reader, slight bimbofication, spit play, size kink, praise kink

────────────

You pull up to Outlaw Customs, the repair shop that’s become something of a second home for your car, two minutes before closing. If it were anywhere else — and anyone else running the place — you would never dream of being such a terrible customer, but since you know both men inside well enough to have a working relationship outside of this little business they run, you aren’t worried about causing any issues. And, well, if you do, Yunho will surely let you know in his own snarky way.

The garage door is still wide open, with Yunho on full display at the mouth of it as he works on the vehicle that’s always parked front and center. As you cross the threshold into the garage, your eyes catch on a sign propped up outside that you hadn’t seen the last time you were here. Two for the price of one on any repairs! A scoff slips out of you as you eye it, and that noise is what pulls Yunho’s focus from his work to you.

“You didn’t tell me you were running a deal,” you whine, drawing a laugh from the man before you.

“We still gotta make money somehow, sugar!” He nods his head towards the other side of the car, where another familiar face sits on the run-down couch you gave to them when they first opened up shop down the street from your apartment complex. It was something of a trade and an icebreaker: you needed a cracked headlight patched up, and they needed some furniture to fill out the garage and make it more homey for any customers who would come and go. Jongho gets up when you come over though, simply to move from the couch to the desk chair right beside it, and you take the spot where he was just sat.

“What’ll it be this time, sweets?” Jongho arches a brow at you in question and leans back in the chair. He exudes the same natural attractive confidence that he always has, and it shines through in the way he’s sitting with his legs splayed out and how one hand rests on his upper thigh while the other closes into a loose fist against the surface of the desk. He’s changed up his hair since you were last here too, now accentuated with white highlights that frame his head nicely. Your staring doesn’t go unnoticed, however, and he clears his throat gently when you fail to respond after several seconds.

“Oh, um, I’m in desperate need of a new tire. Back left. I think I hit a nail on the road or something, she’s been causing me trouble for weeks now.”

“And you didn’t come in sooner?”

You draw your lips into a firm ‘o’. “I started having issues two days after you demanded to do my oil change! Which I could have done myself really, but now — I can’t see what’s causing the issue, and no matter how many times I pump the damn thing, it still has shit air pressure. Besides, if you wanted to see me sooner, you don’t have to wait around for me to have another car issue to do so.”

Jongho shifts to find something on the desk. The tips of his ears are stained red, and that color bleeds down to his neck. “Yunho is the one who demanded to do the oil change though,” he mumbles, pulling out a clipboard with a blank sheet of paper attached to it. “I’ll go take a look and do a quick inspection to see if anything stands out.”

“Keys are on the dash!” you call after him before he slips out and leaves you somewhat alone with Yunho. Said man is laughing to himself as discreetly as he can manage but says nothing in favor of continuing his fiddling at the car. “Were you really the one to demand that oil change?”

“Technically no. But I did say that if he wanted an excuse to pull you over here then he could offer to do it for you.”

“Despite knowing I always do it myself?” you inquire as you push up from the couch. Your hands come to rest on your hips, chin tilting to match the attitude in your stance, and Yunho’s tongue pokes between his lips. His eyes move over your body in a quick series of glances before he knocks the round of his wrench against the headlight in front of him as though it’s a hammer.

“Um—” he fights to clear his throat but once he starts blushing, it’s impossible to miss against his pale skin. You step closer to where he’s crouched and squat down next to him once you deem yourself close enough — that being within touching distance, that is, where your shoulder can brush against his any time he tries to move even a hair.

“What are you working on?”

Again Yunho’s gaze finds you; this time, he lets it trail over your face first before going any lower, and you grant him a little smile for the bit of unnecessary chivalry.

“You’re too pretty to dirty your hands on me, sugar.”

“You say that every time,” you argue. You never get tired of admiring his side profile, but right now it comes with the added bonus that it watching his throat bob as he swallows hard around nothing but saliva and air.

“You don’t wanna make sure Jongho’s not changing your oil without permission again?” The roll of your eyes is far from subtle by any means, and the dramatization of the gesture brings a snort of laughter out of the man next to you.

“There are other inspections you can do, right? Since I’m a regular here and all.”

“Are you really in need of new tires, dear? From where I’m sitting, it seems like we aren’t the only ones who try to find excuses ‘round these parts.”

Leaning away, you put a hand over your chest and scoff. “The audacity of this man! Jongho, did you hear that?” He’s moving back into the garage as you call out to him, slapping the clipboard against the outside of his thigh. You only get a laugh out of him which seems to you like he agrees with Yunho. He lowers the garage door once safely out of the way and moves back to his seat at the desk. “See, he didn’t say he didn’t find anything.”

“He also didn’t say he did find something, sugar.”

“And, did he?” you prompt, eyes narrowing on Jongho’s back. Even though he can’t see you, he gives you the answer you want to hear with a quiet hum of affirmation, and you flick your chin back to Yunho to send him a smug little grin. “Besides, is there any harm in wanting a good deal?”

“That depends.” Yunho’s voice drawls a little, and he presses the heels of his hands against his thighs to help propel him into a standing position. The wrench in his hand gets tossed back to the cart nearby, bringing an echoing clatter to fill the garage with noise as your eyes lock. “Two for the price of one is a big deal after all.”

“And?” You stand slowly in contrast to how eager Yunho was to stand upright, but he watches your every move with rapt attention. In this game, it’s hard to tell which one of you is stalking the other — both playing the part of a predator so well that it’s indistinguishable. In your humble opinion, Yunho’s resolve is cracking much faster than yours.

“And it comes with lots of nice add-ons but they can be a lot to handle.”

“I never pass up on a good deal though,” you murmur through a pout, deigning to look down to the floor and back up to meet Yunho’s gaze through fluttering lashes. “I like handing big loads too.”

“Oh my god.” Jongho’s voice and the following groan cut through the building tension. “Quit making gross innuendos and just fuck! Making me sit here and agonize through that shit, disgusting.” Your face draws into something close to a scowl, one that matches his expression when you turn to look at him. In a move of childish vengeance, you stick your tongue out at him.

“Let us have our fun!”

“Yeah, yeah, have your fun and fuck.”

“Not joining?” Yunho asks, hand running over the curve of your hip already.

“I’ll sit back and watch you get your fill first then have seconds later. You always feel best after he’s thoroughly used you, sweets.” Your expression is somewhere between bewilderment and a smile, eyes following him as he moves back to the couch and throws himself down to the cushions facing you and Yunho. “What? He leaves you good and loose for me.”

“Jongho.” Your tone is breaching the edge of chastisement, but the words you plan to continue with are knocked out of you in a soft oof as Yunho turns you towards the car and suddenly bends you over the hood without warning.

“He’s right, isn’t he? I do open you up quite nicely.” You brace your hands against the hood, pushing up just enough to send a look back at Yunho over your shoulder. He’s already moved back some, however, and redirected his attention to slipping his fingers between the band of your pants and the skin underneath. “May I, sugar?”

“Go on then,” comes your whispered response as you settle more comfortably against the hood.

“You look pretty splayed out against our gem, baby.” Your view of Jongho is entirely skewed like this, but you watch him as he speaks. Though still fully clothed, you get quite the eyeful of his crotch with the way he’s sitting in that same damned position that makes you want to crawl between his legs and suck him dry.

“Right where she belongs.” Yunho’s fingers are hot against your sex, cupping you through your underwear now that your pants are down to your ankles. He snaps the flat of his hand to the same spot, and the action draws a shiver out of you along with a breathy whine. “Are you up for subbing tonight, y/n?”

“Yes sir.”

“So good and I barely had to lift a finger,” Yunho coos down at you. Once again his fingers trail over the line of your lips and push fabric against your cunt, not enough to give you any sort of true stimulation but it makes your clit throb with want. “Still remember our safeword?”

“Bluebird.”

“There’s my good girl.” Yunho slaps his palm against your mound harder to accentuate his words. You let out a moan that catches you off-guard, but Yunho doesn’t allow you time to adjust to the new sensations. “Count for me, sugar.”

“How many do you think she deserves tonight?” From your perspective, you can see Jongho’s hand move in slow circles against the front of his pants.

“Hm, fifteen to start? She was mouthing off quite a lot with me earlier.” A chilling rush of adrenaline pushes through your body, a whine hanging at your lips and threatening to interrupt their conversation, but you bite it back by sinking your teeth into your lower lip. Jongho catches your slight blunder before you have the chance to hide it.

“Oh? I think she wants to say something, Yun.”

“What is it, sugar? You can count that high still, right? After all my cock isn’t in you yet. Your little head should be perfectly intact still.” Yunho slides a hand down your back and finds a resting place at your tailbone. He takes the fabric of your shirt into his palm before bunching it into his fist and yanking your body along the hood of the car. “Not a dumb cockslut yet, baby, come on and answer the question.”

“I-I can, yeah, I can count that high, sir.”

“Good girl. You sound nice and desperate already. Maybe you shouldn’t wait so long to come see us anymore, hm?”

“I won’t,” you whisper. Yunho’s hand comes down on your ass, slapping against the bare skin exposed by your panties, and the sting comes immediately. “I’ll come sooner next time.” Yunho clicks his tongue though. Your gaze is locked onto Jongho, however, and focused on following his movements as he pulls his pants down his thighs and lets his thick cock spring out fully erect and leaking at the tip already. Yunho tightens his grip on you. The pressure on your body increases tenfold, making it hard to breathe under the weight atop you. You feel hot breath cascading over your ear as Yunho inserts himself into your personal space.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten how to fuckin’ count, sugar,” he hisses into the shell of your ear. His tone is so wildly different than the one he uses in casual conversation — biting and scathing to the point of muddling your thoughts with desire. Nothing quite compares to sex with an angry Yunho, though you rarely can rile him up to that point and even now you don’t have him like that, just the barebones of annoyance that tease something more.

“N-No! One, one, I’m sorry sir.”

“If he’s so distracting, I can send you over to him with no prep, dear.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m — I’m focused, I promise. Please continue?” His response comes in the form of two more slaps over the same spot as the first one, sharp and pointed to make the skin beneath him heat up further. “Three…”

“Now that I’ve got your attention, make sure I keep it, sweetheart.”

There’s no real need for that reminder in your mind because once he starts building a steady rhythm and delivering the spanks to your ass with mere seconds between each one, you have no choice but to focus on him. Jongho is still before you, a sight unfolding gloriously as he strokes at his length with lazy little jerks and no intention of bringing himself much pleasure beyond that. Even Yunho goes quiet in his ministrations behind you, leaving the air to be filled with the sounds of his hand on your skin and whatever broken number you choke out after each one. You want to twist and writhe under him, to alleviate some of the burn that’s so present on your backside, but each time you try to so much as shift an inch, Yunho delivers an extra slap to your cunt. Well-placed and effective too — so close to your clit that it makes your knees buckle and you fall back into the position Yunho wants you in to carry out his task. The first ounce of reprieve comes at eleven, right when you’ve settled to push through the pleasurable punishment to the end.

“You know, sugar, you’re taking this so well that I’m wondering if we should increase the number. You aren’t nearly red enough yet, and we picked an odd number. I can’t show equal love to both sides like that.”

“Twenty?” Jongho chimes in, smile twisting as you shake your head. “Thirty?”

“Twenty is fine, I—” you inhale sharply at the sensation of Yunho running his hand along your skin. His touch is cold now, a welcome balm to the heat that emanates from the spot he’s just been hitting so ruthlessly. Your voice is so shaky that you have to swallow to contain the tremble before continuing. “It’s b-been a bit since we did this, I’m not u-used to it.”

Yunho remains quiet as he rubs his thumb over your warm skin in soothing circles for several more seconds. “One more, baby. Then you’ll be done for tonight.” He’s merciful but not entirely gracious because the last sharp slap he delivers to you feels ten times worse than all the others before, and you roll your head to push it into the hood as you cry out at the impact. He catches you as your knees buckle under you, preventing you from sliding straight down to the floor, and as you’re scrambling to regain your footing, he hooks two fingers under your underwear band. When he yanks at the elastic, it snaps against your body hard enough to make you hiss, and it burns a bit when they slide over your sensitive skin.

“Didn’t she do well, Yun?”

You crack an eye open to look over at the man on the couch and make direct eye contact with Jongho to find his gaze far softer than it was minutes ago.

“Of course she did. I expect nothing less from our pretty lady, dear. And—” Yunho pushes two fingers between your folds and dips right into your hole, bypassing all the arousal that’s begun to leak out of you “—she’s sopping wet to boot. Perfect.” The praise makes your body sing, and Yunho rewards your easy obedience by easing his fingers in and out of you with little resistance thanks to that wetness he mentioned. “You still on the pill?”

“Y-Yeah, as always. Haven’t missed a day.”

“Then I can cum in you?”

“Yes… yes sir.”

Yunho groans, and he moves his hand up from the small of your back to feel at the back of your head. He takes a handful of hair into his hold and grips tight enough to pull your head up from the car hood, but it’s not too terrible that you feel any sort of dramatic pain from the act.

“Gonna breed you fuckin’ full of cum then,” he growls, leaning into your space and knocking his forehead against your temple. “Maybe so well that that damn pill won’t work? If I fuck it into you hard enough then your body won’t have a choice but to take my seed.” A loud moan tumbles from your lips at his words. The hand you have propping your weight up wobbles, and just before your elbow locks, Yunho releases you and grabs for your hips with both hands. You’re close to complaining about the sudden departure of his fingers when he nudges the tip of his cock against your folds, sliding along the wetness in a crude form of lubrication.

“Fuck me, won’t you?” you plead quietly. You hope that if nothing else, the look on your face will convince him to get on with things, but it must be a combination of everything — the heady arousal in the air, your tone and words, even the sight of Jongho jacking off to the two of you only a few feet away. Yunho sinks deep into your cunt then; he buries the full length of his cock deep inside you, stretching you open further until it feels like you can feel him in your stomach. Your body trembles and drops forward as you press your free hand to your abdomen like it’ll help you feel him better. “God, you’re so fucking big, Yun.”

“All the better to breed you with,” he says before planting a hand between your shoulder blades and urging you all the way down once more. Jongho is squeezing the base of his cock with his other hand now, likely to keep himself from cumming too early, and Yunho is notorious for two things: his short refractory period and how long he can go without orgasm no matter what kind of stimulation he’s under.

The initial drag of his cock inside you feels like heaven, and when he thrusts back against your thighs, he does so with such force that your insides churn.

“Is she tight?”

“Insanely,” Yunho responds through gritted teeth. You try to lift your head to look back at his face, eager to see how broken his expression is right now, but he stops you in your tracks. Again, fingers threaded through your hair and locking in close to your scalp to give him the best grip that won’t hurt you too terribly much. He yanks you hard with the next thrust, and it brings your head up at an angle that stretches you hard enough to make your muscles burn with the effort of accommodating to it. “Barely been two weeks and you’re this tight again, sugar, your pussy is fuckin’ insane.”

You would laugh at the absurdity of his comment if you could, but in your current state, the only noise that can escape you are choppy moans. They’re the kind that sounds like they could come straight from an amateur porno, and despite the garage being closed, it doesn’t offer that much privacy. Anyone who walks by will suddenly become privy to what sounds like a home movie being filmed behind the metal door.

“Didn’t expect her to be this tight, fuck, I might cum early.”

You can’t warn Yunho of the same for yourself: between his thrusts, the full weight of his balls slap against your pussy from the sheer force behind how hard he’s fucking you, and the steady rhythm is just enough to stimulate your clit even without head-on contact. He knows your body well, however, and how to play you like a fucking fiddle, so when your walls start pulsing around the thickness of his cock, he shifts the angle and drives his tip so deep into you that you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, sweets,” Jongho exhales under his breath. Your vision is blurry when you open your eyes, but it snaps back to black a moment later when the orgasm hits you all of a sudden.

“Fuck, fuck, f-fuck!”

“That’s it, sugar,” Yunho coos from behind you, and his hand relaxes to run down to the back of your neck. He presses the pads of his fingers into the flesh there, poking and prodding at the muscles that have suddenly gone tense in the tsunami of sensations sweeping over you, but his thrusts don’t let up even as your walls squeeze hard around his length. Yunho fucks you hard and fast through the brunt of your orgasm. When your body finally relaxes and the waves die down to let you swim in the aftermath of it, he’s still driving his dick along your walls and knocking against your more sensitive spots. “Should I breed you now, dear? Fuck you nice and full of cum then send you to sit on Jongho’s cock?”

Your mouth hangs open enough to let saliva out of it and onto the car, yet it smears across your face when you lose the will to steady yourself against Yunho’s pace.

“Pl-please, sir.”

Yunho lays himself over you and spreads his hands to sit on either side of your head. His hips still against your backside. The fuzz in your brain nearly drowns out the feeling of cum pumping into you, without a doubt filling you to the brim. He’s still in the throes of recovery when you nudge Yunho off and out of you. You would stay longer with him inside, to feel that warmth and fullness for some time longer, but your body moves on its own agenda with a pulsing desire lingering in your gut. Despite the weakness in your muscles, you walk over to the couch where Jongho waits patiently and quietly. His gaze is heavy on you when you drop your hands to his shoulders.

“Baby…”

“Don’t stop her now, babe,” Yunho interjects. You don’t spare him a glance over your shoulder or anything like it — the movements of your body are methodical and calculated, a firm straddle over his hips and spread legs before you reach down to put your hand next to his against the length of his cock. Together, you guide him into your used cunt, pushing him in alongside the cum threatening to drip out of your body. A sigh of relief leaves your lips once he’s securely inside you.

“Feel good?” you whisper close to his face. Jongho’s cheeks are flushed, his pupils blown own so wide that you can barely see the color of his irises, and his lips glisten with spit. You can’t help yourself, you decide. He has the same thought in his mind because he’s the one to kiss you rather than the other way around, lips finding each other in a fit of passion that makes your chest burn.

“I want more,” he mutters into your mouth.

“Greedy.” You lift yourself up from his lap some, enough to let his cock nearly pull all the way out of you, then sink back down with a spine-curling pleasure that makes you throw your head back and moan to the ceiling. Yunho’s form enters your line of sight, and his hand finds the base of your throat. He stands behind you, chin tilted to his chest so that he can stare directly down at you. He’s handsome beyond belief even at this awfully skewed and awkward angle.

“Open,” he commands while tapping along the column of your throat. Your lips part completely to allow him access to whatever it is he wants from you.

Jongho’s firm and strong hands squeeze at your waist at the same moment. He takes the control from your hands, and you hand it over without complaint to let him work your cunt along his length as he sees fit and to chase his pleasure in full. Yunho hooks his thumb on the back of your teeth. It effectively holds you open and steady for the moment he decides to spit down into your mouth. The warmth on your tongue makes you wince, but then Yunho is withdrawing his thumb and pushing up against your chin.

“Close and swallow,” he says in what’s likely to be his last act of dominance for the night. Your eyes remain firmly set on his face as you do so — slow yet deliberate so that he can see your obedience in its full glory. Your reward is the sweetest gift. He lays a kiss to your forehead and taps your cheek gently. “Good girl.”

You right yourself enough to look down at Jongho, sending your focus to the lover beneath you. He lets you take his face between your hands without saying a word, but the second you lean in for a kiss, he bites out his thoughts.

“You take dick like a bitch in heat, sweets.”

“Y-You’re the one—” your voice sounds about as wrecked as you feel “—fucking me dumb.” Jongho slides his hands along the lines of your body until he reaches your ass, where the skin is still sensitive and burning from Yunho’s earlier punishment. He palms the flesh harshly enough to make you cry out. “Want you inside too.”

“One wasn’t enough? How much cum do you need?”

“She’s a proper cumslut, really Jongho. You know this.” It’s unfair that Yunho sounds totally recovered and unbothered by the rough sex you just shared; meanwhile, you’re thoroughly wrecked and still going through the motions, working towards another impending orgasm on Jongho’s cock.

“Close?” he asks with a lilting tease hanging off his tone. You push yourself against him as best you can, close enough to knock your forehead into his.

“I bet you’ll cum first, big boy. Your needy dick is begging to breed me.”

Jongho’s nostrils flare at the accusation, but it’s an accurate one with the way his haphazard thrusts are becoming more and more staggered. Nothing inspires Jongho quite like a small competition though, even if it encourages him to play dirty and reach around to your front. He plunges a hand down alongside where his cock meets your body. Your bubbling complaints about his dirty tactics fall short at the mouth of your next orgasm, and he all but steals the air from your lungs with a few little twists of his fingers on your clit. He cums with you immediately after — but after nonetheless, as you’re certain he’ll note later on. Your body sags atop his even as he drives his length into you a few more times for good measure and to milk himself for all he’s worth, adding another load to what Yunho’s already left in you.

Said man makes another appearance too, with bottles of water in hand as he lowers himself to the couch cushions right beside you and Jongho. You take one of the presented bottles with a quiet murmur of thanks, easing up from your slumped position to take several greedy sips in an effort to soothe your poor throat.

“By the way,” Jongho tilts his head in Yunho’s direction. A moment passes that’s full of silent anticipation, and it’s only when Yunho’s brows start to furrow that Jongho finishes his thought. “Her tires are fine.”

The incredulous look you get from Yunho makes the ruse well worth it, and the small flare of anger that crosses his eyes briefly only serves to make you want to tease him further.

────────────

please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!

this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

[eddiesghxst]

best friend! steve x best friend! reader and steve is talking ab how he didnt get laid on his date and reader is like “i can do it”

LMAOO poor stevie, i’ll take one for the team i guess🤭

18+ — MINORS DNI

contains: oral (m recieving), p in v (unprotected - don't be stupid), and steve's big d!ck

word count: 1.9k

(this is def not proofread srry)

————

Steve has been ranting for ten minutes straight.

You’re laid on his bed, head resting at the foot of the mattress and legs sprawled out to where the soles of your feet just barely brush against Steve’s thigh. You had originally come over to watch a movie, but you got dragged to his room, and ever since you sat down on his bed, Steve’s mouth has been running, complaining about his current dry spell.

“I mean really, I don’t mean to toot my own horn here, but I don’t remember it ever being this hard to get fucking laid,” He complains as you quietly entertain yourself with imaginative shapes in the ceiling. “I’m dying, man, it’s ridiculous.”

And you’re tired of hearing your best friend complain about his lack of pussy, you want some popcorn and you want to watch the movie. So, before you can fully register your thoughts, you’re already spitting out a suggestion, “I can help.”

Steve glances at you, watching as your folded hands rest against your steadily rising stomach, “We’ve already tried that, your advice doesn’t work.” He points out. You roll your eyes, craning your neck to look at him as you flex your foot and press against the side of his thigh, ignoring when he bats you away, “No dummy. I mean I can help you.“ 

You lay your head back down, wriggling your feet as if you hadn’t just suggested you fuck each other and Steve is… well Steve’s not sure what to say.

You sit up to lean on your elbows and glance at Steve, raising an eyebrow, “You didn’t die did you?” You joke. Steve shakes his head as you shuffle to your knees and begin crawling over, “No I… I’m just…” He swallows heavily when your hand rests against his thigh, fingers gently squeezing as you lean into his space.

“A-are you sure?” He asks. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t, Stevie.” You confirm, gently batting your eyes at him as a sickeningly sweet smile spreads across your lips.

Steve curses, gaze flickering to your pretty lips before surging forward to press his lips against yours. It’s not the first time you and Steve have kissed, there've been a handful of drunk nights where you shared a few harmless pecks here and there, but nothing of this manner.

It’s never been passionate enough to have Steve pulling you by the hips to drag you onto his lap or good enough to have you moaning as you stuff your fingers into his brown hair. Your knuckles curl into the roots and Steve moans, leaning forward into the kiss until you’re giggling against him, sneaking a hand between the two of you to palm at his crotch. “You’re already hard, Steve.” You point out.

“Did you think I was lying when I said I’ve been living like a repressed nun?” 

You laugh, “No I just… I thought I’d have to work for it a bit, I guess.” You shrug as your fingertips curl around the hem of his shirt, pulling upwards and removing the thin material from his frame.

You’ve seen Steve shirtless many times from countless summers spent at the pool and countless nights sleeping over. You’re well aware that Steve is gorgeous, and you’ve always wanted to do more than just admire, and now that you’ve got the chance, you don’t waste a second to run your hands over his chest. Your fingers curl against the patch of hair covering his chest as you kiss him again, grinding against his bulge and moaning.

Steve’s big hands are on your waist, eagerly squeezing before making his way down your back. He’s hesitant as his hands round over the fat of your ass, but you grind back against his touch as a way of encouragement. His fingertips dig into your ass before he moves his hands lower to slip up under the tiny shorts you have on, groaning at the sensation of your warm skin against his hands.

“Fuck, Steve, that’s really hot.” You breathe against his lips. “Yeah?” He hums, pushing your ass down to grind you against his dick. “Yeah… I wanna taste you.”

Steve’s cock throbs at your words and he mumbles a curse before nodding, pulling away from you to hastily shove his sweats down as you shuffle to settle between his legs. You quickly remove your shirt, giving Steve an eyeful of your tits sitting prettily in your bra. He palms himself over the thin material of his boxers as you shuffle closer, situating yourself between his spread thighs.

Your fingers brush against his when you reach out to dip your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, eagerly tugging them down to release him. Steve moans as you pull the boxers down, stiff cock slapping against his tummy once it’s freed from the thin cotton material. 

“Holy shit, Steve,” you whisper, eyes wide and lips parted as you gaze down at his cock, hard and already leaking with excitement. You glance up at him before looking back at his dick, “I guess the King Steve rumors were true…” You mumble, ignoring Steve’s breathless laugh as you drag a finger up the length of his cock. Steve’s breathing is slowly rising as he silently watches you touch him, circling your fingertip around his aching tip to smear the sticky precum around.

You giggle when he visibly twitches from your touch, “Excited?” You tease. “Fuck you,” Steve breathes, moaning when you finally wrap a hand around him.

You smile, watching as his face twists in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to stroke him. He slowly thrusts up into your hand, working to meet your strokes in tandem as breathy moans tumble from his lips. You watch in awe as he melts into the pleasure, “God, you really are pent up, Stevie.” You point out, gently pulling Steve’s attention to open his eyes and watch as you wriggle to lay down on your stomach.

You pause your stroking to spit into your palm before resuming the task, humming at the sinful shlicking sound of his wet cock in your hand. You admire the sight in front of you; Steve’s thighs, hairy and toned, bracketing you in with his cock standing tall, firm, and achingly flushed before you. Your gaze drags up the expanse of his heaving chest to fall upon his flushed face. His lust-blown eyes excitedly watch as you lean forward to drag your wet tongue up the underside of his cock, lewdly humming at the taste as you wrap your lips around his tip.

“Oh fuck,” he pants, head falling back against his headboard as his eyes squeeze shut. “I can’t believe this is fucking happening.” He breathlessly mumbles, tuning back in to watch as you pull him out with a crude pop, smacking your lips open to stick out your tongue and slap his sticky tip against it a few times before swallowing him once again.

Steve is big, filling and stretching your mouth so much to where you can already tell there will be an ache in your jaw afterward, but you don’t care. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you make do by simultaneously stroking with the rhythm of your movements.

It doesn’t take long before Steve’s hands are in your hair, softly tugging as he moans out, “I’m gonna cum.”

You pull off of him with a wet gasp, strings of spit and cum sticking to your lips and falling to cool against Steve’s wet hips. You languidly stroke his throbbing cock as you shuffle up onto your knees, a swollen smile bracing your lips as Steve pants beneath you, gazing up at you on hunger.

He nods down to your waist, “Take them off.” 

You waste no time following his orders, wiggling out of your shorts and tossing them somewhere in the room. Steve leans forward to kiss you, hands sneaking behind you to unclip your bra and shuck it off with the rest of your clothes. You’re only left in your panties when Steve pushes you back to lay against his pillows, legs falling open to welcome Steve as he leans over you for a sloppy kiss.

He palms your tits with one hand as the other strokes his cock, mumbling against your lips, “Gonna let me fuck you?” 

He presses himself against your clothed center, both of your moaning at the sensation as he rubs against your covered clit. You eagerly nod in response, fingers tugging at his curly hair as he reaches down to pull your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” He whispers to himself before running his thumb over your aching clit. You pathetically moan and squirm against him as his name falls from your lips. 

He kisses you again, thrusting his hips forward to run his cock through your wet folds. He slaps his dick against your pussy a few times until you’re mewling in pleasure and agony, “Please, Steve. I didn’t tease you.” You whine.

Steve chuckles, “I know… you’re right, I’m just being mean.” He says. He holds himself up with one hand beside your head as he pulls away just enough to glance down between your bodies, brown curls falling over his face as he watches himself drag his tip through your folds once more before lining up at your entrance. He pushes in achingly slow, looking back up to watch as your face is masked with a look of pleasure.

Your thighs shake as he bottoms out, and Steve groans above you when your wet walls clench and swallow him whole, “O-oh my god, Steve… holy shit, you’re so fucking big.” You breathlessly moan.

You’re already pulsing around him when he begins thrusting into you, sloppy wet slapping noises filling out the space around you as each thrust pulls moans from both of you. You’re not sure you’ll last long, the feeling of being so stretched out and filled with your best friend's cock has your head spinning until you’re nothing but a moaning mess.

You think you lose sense of time as Steve fucks you because you only come back to earth when you’re teetering on the edge and hear Steve’s gravely voice in your ear, “You’re so good to me,” he pants, “Such a good friend, letting me fuck this tight little pussy of yours.” 

You whimper, nails digging into his arms as the band in your tummy begins to snap, a long string of moans and curses pouring from your chest as you cum. “Fuck yes holy shit I’m gonna cum.” Steve moans.

Before you know it, Steve is pulling out of you and spurting thick ropes of cum against your tummy and pussy, cursing and moaning as he jacks himself off the rest of the way. You’re breathless and hazy as you watch him, squirming at the sensation of his warm cum on your skin and his hot fingertips digging into your thigh.

Steve is panting as he looks down at you, taking in the sight of the white sticky release glistening against your pussy, some of it seeping into the thin material of your panties. He breathlessly chuckles, glancing up at you as join in and ask what he’s laughing about.

Steve shakes his head in disbelief and lets out a short laugh, “We should’ve done that a long time ago.”

[hammyballeceter]

Hannibal Lecter-

Little Lamb

Hannibal x reader

- mentions of a suicide attempt & mental illness.

You had been a patient of Dr Lecter for about a month now, his first appointment being with you when you were still on the ward after a attempt to take your life. The man who you’d come to know as Dr Lecter was kind to you, his voice soothed your thoughts and you began to look forward to seeing the peculiar man each week. You tried for a little while to not let your mind wander to how attractive you found the older man, but then again it pushed other far more darker thoughts aside for awhile. And you indulged yourself into thoughts of the amber eyed gentleman.

————-

“I hope that you’ve been doing as we discussed in the last appointment”

His eyes flicked to yours and stayed there, he had an intimidating undertone to him, an intensity to his presence, which made you crave him more. Your skin prickled as if it was cold, shuffling in the seat to try and distract from the feeling of him staring at you.

“Yes, I’ve been trying to. The thoughts are as intrusive as ever. Although I’ve found a new vice that’s sort of helping. When I think about them the thoughts calm for a while. But they soon come back. And they come back with vengeance”

Your voice was quiet, as it had been all your life. Slightly above a whisper but not by much. Being softly spoken would often mean people would ignore your existence. But not Dr Lecter, he gave his full attention to you when you spoke. Although it’s his job, you’d like to think maybe, just maybe he enjoyed hearing your voice too.

“The intrusive thoughts are getting more and more graphic, it’s like my brain is willing me to become so disturbed I’m past being helped. A punishment for not being dead. I still wish it had worked.”

Your eyes never dared to meet his unwavering gaze, you knew he was looking at you, it made your skin burn in the best possible way but caused you feel even more insecure then you’d ever been. What he must think of you sat there covered in scars of your own making

———————

His eyes never left you as you sat in a rather large chair in his rather large office, the room oozed class & money. When ever you were in his presence his eyes found you and he couldn’t bring himself to rip them away. And anyways, he enjoyed watching you squirm under his gaze he could quickly tell the affect he had on you. Your appointments with him were something he looked forward to. He was drawn in by you he learned a lot about you during your appointments even making a conscious effort to ask about you outside of what the appointments were supposed to be about. Being under intensive treatment meant he got you for an hour 3 times a week to his delight. He couldn’t quite understand why a beauty like you wanted to be 6 foot under. He always thought people with such beauty also held a disgusting amount of vanity and self importance. But not you, he enjoyed your beauty, and he found himself not wanting to slice you open and eat your body piece by piece. And that scared him. He didn’t want to stay professional with you, he wanted to patch that dark little mind of yours and claim you as his.

“your thoughts are getting worse? what sort of things are these thoughts about? Don’t be afraid to tell me” He asked. Jotting down what ever notes he needed.

—————

“About hurting people, about hurting myself. Images, awful images. They’d flash into my head, just like before. But instead of them just being about me hurting myself they’re ones of me hurting others, before I’d never had that I’m scared I’ll give in” the welling of tears made room ripple and blur.

“I just want to get better. But that’s never going to happen. My only relief is thinking about someone I know I can never have. Someone who wouldn’t even look at me. They just see me as a sick patient and even then my brain punishes me for it. It hurts me but they make me feel safe, they’re the only person that listens to me”

Your tears ran, wet and warm down your face. Hannibal had never felt an ache in his heart when seeing someone cry. Usually someone’s cries meant nothing to him. Especially the ones of those he killed. But with you, he wanted to push you up against a wall and make you feel anything but sadness.

“Whom is it that you think about?” He asked with out thinking, he cursed at himself for being so abrupt when you were upset.

You dropped your head allowing your hair to fan infront of your face, you wanted to tell him, tell him about how you wanted him to make your skin blaze, how you wanted to feel his lips on every single part of your body, how you wanted him to take every waking and sleeping moment of your life and fill it with him.

“I’m afraid to say Dr Lecter I fear he may never want to see sight of me again”

Hannibal watched as you raised your head, tears streaked your face, your cheeks turned pink and your lips plump, and yet he still thought you looked beautiful. Broken yet beautiful.

He wanted to kiss you, so deeply as if he would engulf you whole and allow you to be safe.

“Why would you think that? you may be in a bad place, but you are person that holds a lot more then what you’re going through. I’ve learned a lot about you y/n your beauty is merely only the surface of you, you are intense yet so gentle. Your brain holds great torment, yet you have never laid a hand on another despite what your mind makes you think. The mere fact you acknowledge that hurt, the fact you wanted to take yourself away in fear of hurting others shows me more about you then you think. I apologise if you think this is inappropriate of me. Only a fool would never want to see sight of you again”

His face never changed, his eyes held the same undivided intense gaze. But he meant every word of what he said. Y/ns brain couldn’t comprehend a man who had everything was speaking so highly of someone who had nothing.

“Dr lec-“

“my little lamb call me Hannibal, I insist”

You body shook lightly,

“Hannibal, it’s you. It’s you that I think about. You fog my mind daily. And you make my thoughts go even if its for a little while, it’s worth it.”

Hannibal got up slowly, placing his glass on the small table beside him. You nerves through the roof as he hadn’t said anything. Had you misunderstood him? Was he simply being kind out of pity?

His hand reached for yours, large yet soft and well manicured. You accepted his hand and allowed him to pull you up.

“You fog my mind too little lamb”

He gently caressed your cheek, taking in the feeling of you finally being pressed against his body. He pressed his lips to yours, savouring how sweet you tasted, mint mixed with an undertone of the expensive wine he’d poured for you earlier. Your mind finally at ease, for the first time in a long time.

“Now, don’t ever take yourself away from me.”

[trinoxtrinox]

Abbeyofcyn Colour in your style

Painting the lineart for this was really fun, and I really enjoyed doing it, even if I feel like I bit a bit more than I could chew at first, what with me wanting to do two different light sources XD

I also wanted to colour the lineart of this, however the results that I got aren't that good, so I'll be uploading two pieces, one without the lineart painted (the one I like more), and the one with the coloured lineart. Hope you like it everyone and @abbeyofcyn

Ok, now that the art is done, I have a lot to say about how I chose to color everything, but that could get long so I'll leave all of that under a read more, expand at your own risk XD

Allright, so first of all, a detail that I'm not sure many people will be able to catch in the first place. The flowers, I colored them in a specific way, because each of them represents a different person.

In here I added the flowers to represent each of the beings present on the art, Red for Raph, Light Blue for Leo, Purple for Donnie, Orange for Mickey, Dark blue for F!Leo, and finally Pink for the Krang; because the latest might not be present literally, but the sky and pink light clearly indicate that they're still a presence to be felt in the world.

In here we have the four turtles again, with the flowers being their respective colors. However, since all but one of them are cut, I chose to color them in what I believe the order they died in the bad future is. First is Raph, I doubt he'd let anyone die before him, so the single corner of a red petal goes to him, then Donnie goes next, hence why a petal and a bit of the center is the only thing that can be seen of him; and now we come to the first scene of the movie, which makes it so that Mikey is the next flower that's cut off, and finally Leo gets the only not cutt off flower, because he's still living here.

This are the last patch of flowers, and the reason why I colored them that way is because each of them represent a different person that's important for the turtles. The Green represent April's Ninpo, I wanted to add her and ther ninpo was the only way I could think of, and on the same vein, the white and black next to her are Splinter when he's on his Ninpo state at their final fight against Shredder. Below them there's the gray and sorta orange flowers, this time they both represent Splinter in his normal form, and yes I know I put him twice in there, he's their father, he deserves it XD

Finally there's the dark brown and gray flowers, these one represent Cassandra Jones and Cassey Junior, you can't argue that they end up being pretty important to the turtles, the first one helped them in the fight against Shredder, and the second one literally kickstarted the movie XD

Next thing to discuss is why I chose to have two different lightning sources and why they are what they are.

First is the Krang sky at the front, I chose this because I got inspired by this idea for the AU behind this lineart from Abbeyofcyn and wanted to continue said AU idea. My take and continuation is that even after the Magic Tie Portal that Mickey did to send Casey Jr. to the past exploded and send the Krang at the battlefield away (and considering how big the battlefield it was, it most likely killed or pushed away every single Krang at New York) and F!Leo got the Tots!Turtles, there were still enough living Krang around the world that are still ravaging the world, this time more out of spite than anything since they know the won and simply want to kick down a dead horse. F!Leo is going in that direction because he's aware that there are Krang still left, and the sad reality is that he can't shield the Tots!Turtles forever, but at least he should be able to train them and teach them everything he can, while also giving them the chance to have a childhood as well, similar to Casey Jr. but more chill.

F!Leo and Tots!Raph are the only ones facing the Krang light, and that's on purpose, the former because obviously he'll be the main force against the remnants of the Krang that are still on Earth, and the latter because no matter the form, Raph will always want to protect his siblings, and he ain't afraid to punch a few f them in the face to do so. Tots!Mikey meanwhile is in the backpack, being shielded from the Krang light, with it barely reaching him, and again, that's on purpose, everyone will want to protect him since he's the youngest, and the fact that he also will become the strongest Mystical Warrior the world will ever see again, and so F!Leo will try to teach him whatever he knows about Ninpo and the Mystic Powers, doing his best to shield him from the horrors of the Krang so that he can focus on learning Mystical Powers.

Tots!Leo and Tots!Donnie are giving their back to the Krang light, but that's not because they'll ignore the menace they represent, but rather because they're focusing on what's more important to them at the moment, for Tots!Leo is his twin brother and the shenanigans/drama he can get with him, while for Tots!Donnie is his curiosity and need to learn about the world around him (Also he's autistic and likes rocks, fight me XD). Leo here is shielding Donnie from the Krang's light, agan made on purpose, because he loves his twin too much and wants to protect him from the horrors, while also pulling his rope to bring him back to the present; Donnie meanwhile only has a little bit of Krang light on him, which is their looming threat that they represent for a great while, however they aren't the biggest thing occuping his mind, and thanks to his twin, he's able to not focus on them for a while to concentrate on more things that'll help everyone in the future; which brings me to...

The yellow light, which comes from the sun that's behind them, and considering how it's a yellow and not an orange one, the current time is morning and it's Dawn, the rise of a new day, new begginings and start for a new hope. It might seem like they're walking away from the light and into the Krang's side, however with this idea I had it's less that they're getting further away from the light, but rather bringing the light with them, illuminating everyone's path and pushing back against the Krang.

As you can see, everyone is bathed in the sun's light glow, however Tots!Donnie, Tots!Raph and Tots!Leo are the ones that are literally bathed in it, while F!Leo has his legs covered in it and Tots!Mikey only has sunlight on his head. Once again this is all on purpose, and I'll explain everyone's light position now :3

Tots!Raph, The sunlight is mostly on his shell, tail and arms, which is because he'll be in charge of protecting everyone's uture, and that sadly also means that he'll be bearing the heaviest burden out of his brothers, but that'll also means that when the burden is eventually lifted, he'll be the one that looks forwards the most.

F!Leo's future is uncertain, the sunlight covers only his legs completly because even if he's the guiding light of everyone's future, and no matter how much light he has on his back, shell, legs and arms; he's not covered in any of it beyond his role as a guide, so still uncertainty envelops him.

Tots!Mikey is literally being carried in a bag to the future, which again is because he's the youngest and the strongest mystical warior out of them, but he's also somewhat of a backup plan, his role will be less to guide anyone to the bright future and more ensure that no one gets left behind under the looming threat of the Krang, hence why he only has the sunlight on his face and he's not covered in it like his brothers.

Tots!Leo and Tots!donnie, the disaster twins, they both are encased in light because both of them will help create the brightest future as well, however Donnie is covering a half of Leo, not letting him be truly fully under the sunlight, and again, that's because while he protects his twin from the Krang, Leo is sacrificing part of his abilities to guide everyone else but his brother. Donnie meanwhile is literally encased in light, his face fully iluminated, and that's because with his smarts and creativity, he'll be the biggest reason that a brighter future will be created for Earth, his inventions carrying everyone towards it.

Finally, why I started with dry grass on the foreground and ended with green grass at the mountains on the horizon, and that's because even with their uncertain future, even though they are the guiding light that'll bring a new brighter future to the world, that doesn't mean that the world is at such a critical state that they literally can't be saved. There are still people out there, living in hiding, no matter how it seems from the start point, there's still life out there.

And that's all I wanted to say about how I painted it and why I did so, I had so much I wanted to say and, to anyone who bothers to read all of this, thanks for doing so, I put way too much thoughts into this ambitious for me painting, and I loved writing all of this down as well. See y'all in the future n.n

[jeannineee]

NSFW Alphabet: Ruhn Danaan (Crescent City)

a/n: the things I would let this man do to me, y’all…

nsfw under the cut (18+ please)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

So doting and gentle. Cleans you up. He’ll get you whatever you want or need. A blanket, water, food, a massage? You’ve got it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, his hands. He’s always touching you in some way. A hand on your lower back as you walk, on your thigh as he drives. Also enjoys the way his hand looks wrapped around your throat, or gripping your hair.

For you? He loves your entire body. But he loves your voice the most, oddly enough. (Think of how driven he is by his senses in the books.) He loves your laugh, your tired voice. Loves when you whisper in his ear, or when you beg for him and scream his name. His Fae hearing is very sensitive, and your voice is angelic to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Likes to come inside of you. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s something he loves about filling your pretty little cunt over and over.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ruhn is very open about his kinks and interests. He wouldn’t hide anything from you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s more than seventy years old, and he’s the prince. He has had plenty of experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

LOVES 69’ing with you. Burying his face in your cunt, sucking at your swollen clit as you drool over his cock.

Also loves missionary, with your legs over his shoulders.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Sometimes. He’ll make you laugh as he slowly fucks you, just to hear the way your voice catches as he gives you a deep thrust.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s well trimmed. Just a small patch at the base.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He loooves being intimate with you. He may not be the most romantic, but sex with him is always loving, even when he’s rough.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You two definitely have phone sex when he has to be away for princely duties and meetings and whatnot, but besides that, no. He has you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage, overstimulation, edging, breeding. Loves praising you, and using toys.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Prefers the bedroom. Also likes shower sex.

But if his roommates aren’t home? Anywhere is fair game. The couch, the walls, the counters.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Like I said earlier, Ruhn’s senses are in overdrive. The slightest touch, or a whisper in his ear? He’s ready for you instantly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Wouldn’t cause you any pain, or degrade you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Swears he’s in heaven every time you sit on his face. The first time he suggested it, you were afraid of hurting him by putting your full weight on him, and he told you if that’s how he dies, then so be it.

“Just sit on my face, baby. I want it.”

“Ruhn—“

“Y/n. Sit. On my face.”

When you finally did it, he gripped your thighs, pulling you completely onto his face, and ate your cunt like a man starved. His lip piercing dragging across your clit, him fucking you with his tongue.

SHEESH.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on his mood, but he prefers taking his time with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’ll only have quickies when you’re both too busy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This male will try anything you suggest. Literally anything. He’s shameless.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Can easily go all night long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

LOVES using toys on you. He’s not one of those men that gets uncomfortable at the idea of pleasuring you with them. They’re his teammates, as far as he’s concerned.

He especially loves using a vibrator or suction toy as he fucks you with his cock or fingers.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You both tease each other a little bit before you have sex, and sometimes periodically throughout the day, but he CANNOT deny you. He literally can’t. He loves making you come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

LOUD. Groaning, whimpering, swearing as he fucks you dumb. Will whisper the filthiest things in your ear to bring you through your orgasm.

“Let it out princess, come for me.”

“There you go baby, give it to me.”

“Wish you could see how pretty you look.”

I am feral.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Definitely has a piercing on his dick. Probably a frenum piercing. I don’t make the rules.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s big. He’s thick, and long enough that he easily hits your cervix with the right angle. He feels like heaven.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH as fuck. Could literally take you anytime, anyplace, anywhere.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He usually gets sleepy after, especially if you went multiple rounds, but he always waits for you to fall asleep first.

[97keanu]

hi dearest, i loved your gorgeous response to my ask about getting high with keanuverse characters!

i’m stoned again, watching bill and ted and feeling creative…. the song “two heads are better than one” from the movie rlly has me lost in thought about just how great a bill and ted threesome would be

anyways, much love 😚

- 🍃anon

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳Ofc! As one crusty stoner to another, I love getting your asks hehe, and this one was actually the one that helped get my out of my writers block! <3 decided to add some holiday spice after finding out that San Dimas actually has had freak snow storms in the 90s.

Tags/CW: drugs/getting high obvi, stoner/skater!reader(they met b&t at the skate park hehe), threesome, oral (m/f receiving), p in v, p in a, double penetration, spitroast, soft doms!Bill + Ted, claiming, semi bimbo-fied, reader ends up feeling a bit dumb from how much c*ck she's taking, service top!Bill, commanding!Ted, primal-ish!ted, ted treats you like he owns you, objectification, you're basically a f*ck doll for bill and ted tonight, c*ckwarming.

The night's have grown long, and despite San Dimas usually keeping up the heat in the winter, today had dipped well into freezing degrees. The forecast, to everyone's dismay, predicted the snow storm of the century, and what better an opportunity than to bunker down and party with your boyfriend and his best friend..

Bill and Ted had already stocked their tiny apartment with snacks, VHS comedies they has rented, and enough weed to supply you all into next week. After your shift at the mall, you hurry to beat the snow that threatens to come down. You watch as a few straggling customers try to find something to do in the mall, but one after another, the lights of each store grows dim, until it's just you and other managers locking up. You head to your car as the wind picks up, prickling your nose with its cold hand. You arrived at Bill and Ted's place just as the flurries started to tumble, catching in your hair and melting as you come inside their cozy abode...

Ted is the first to greet you, taking the large pack of soda and groceries you brought from your hands with ease and smile. His warm lips kiss your chilly cheek and you feel the heat rising even more there. He takes your groceries to the kitchen to unload, and you follow, finding Bill sitting on the counter, a bag of potato chips already being devoured. His pale eyes are rimmed with red, making them seem so much bluer.

"Alright! Now we can finally party!" Bill cheers with a smile and offers you a high five.

You gladly accept, hoping get on his level soon yourself. Ted can sense this, and when he's done tossing the food into the fridge, he comes over and puts his arm around you.

"I held out until you got here, but Bill couldn't wait." He laughs, taking a lighter and joint from his orange coat pocket.

"We can share this one," he continues, and holds it out to your lips, placing it there when you're ready and lighting it for you.

You love when he takes care of you like that, treating you like his little princess and doing it all for you. It's what drew you in to him, the way he knew instinctively when to be there for you. Ever since he patched your knee up at the skatepark without hesitating, you've been head over heels.

What makes it better is, Ted has always known when to let you do it yourself as well. He's there to treat you right when you want it, but he doesn't think you need his help all the time. It's what made you two work so well.

You inhale your first hit, the smoke filling your lungs, expanding as you hold it. You pull Ted in, bringing his tall frame down to your level, and letting the smoke in your mouth find its way into his. He happily accpects, shotgunning the smoke while letting his lips finish with a well placed kiss at the end. You look into those deep chocolate eyes of his and can feel the smile that's forming on your lips.

Soon enough, you find yourself starting to feel the buzz, the joint getting smaller and smaller as the three of you make your way into the living room, plopping on the couch together. You somehow end up between Bill and Ted.

"We should like, totally put some flicks on, dude!" Ted says to Bill with a goofy grin.

"Right on! Let's watch Dazed and Confused!" Bill's eyes are droopy and his laugh happy.

You find yourself left next to him as Ted goes to pop the movie in. Your mind grows fuzzier and as you sit and giggle with Bill on the couch about dumb jokes, you find that funny feeling that's been finding its way in your stomach since you met the two stoners. You know you and Ted are dating, but when it started out, you weren't sure who you were more attracted to. You wonder if Bill still has residual feelings for you the way you do for him as his hand brushes yours on the couch.

Ted can see you two interacting from the kitchen, and to his own surprise, he smiles about it. He knows that when Bill and him first met you, that both of them liked you. He knows Bill was a good sport about it all, losing a rock, paper, scissors battle with Ted and backing off so that he could date you. Still, Ted wonders if it was ever possible that he could share you.

You however, have no idea that Ted has fantasized about letting Bill in on the relationship, so you pull your hand back from Bill's after a lingering pause. Ted rounds the corner of the couch and sits back down next to you, relighting up the end of the joint and sharing it with you once more.

You know if you get much higher you'll begin to feel it in your body, when it hits just right and every moment feels so much better than before. It's dangerous because of how horny that makes you. You know Bill and Ted share a room here, so it would be hard to find alone time with just Ted. As you inhale a particularly long puff, you begin to think it won't matter in the end, especially with the way Bill and Ted are looking at you now.

You place your hand on Ted's neck, softly beginning to pull him in to exchange the smoke in your lungs once more, but Ted moves. He takes his own hands to your cheeks, steadying you and pointing you into Bill's direction. Bill leans in, okay with the offer as long as Ted is, and you find yourself lost in those droopy, icy blue eyes once again.

His lips part, pressing against yours ever so softly. You're reminded once more that Bill has the face of an angel, and as you exhale into his mouth, it's as if he's stolen all the breath in your lungs. A tingle runs from your lips gently on his, and smoke swirls up into the air as it escapes the gaps between you two. You feel Ted's hands on your neck and waist, guiding you. Before you can think about what you're doing, your lips move against Bill's and suddenly all you can do is what feels good right now. You don't think too hard on the implications.

As your kiss deepens with Bill, you feel Ted on your neck, kissing and sucking there, his hands wandering your body. He pulls on your shirt a bit, and whispers in your ear, deep and husky, full of want.

"I want to show you off.."

You oblige, Bill breaking the kiss and watching as Ted helps to take your top off, undressing you slow. Even the way the fabric on your skin feels right now is making you horny. When it's gone, goosebumps form on your bare skin as the cold of the night rushes in to feast on it. The snow outside falls gently, with big lazy flakes layering on the ground.

Bill can't hide his smile, even if he tries. He loves the way your body looks, and the two men exchange glances over it, and you feel a bit like an object to be shown and played with for a moment. That makes the wetness that was budding between your thighs bloom even more, you start to love the idea of Bill and Ted taking their time with you, using you up like the toy you are. It's not even in a cruel objectification way. No, they're just two curious stoners who have needs that want to get out with your body, and you know if you asked them to stop they wouldn't hesitate. That trust between you three makes this all the better.

You let Bill part your legs, his hand running up your thigh and going so deep between them. A tingle rockets through your body at the touch, and Ted works on getting your bra off. Once it is, your nipples harden in the chilly air, and you look up with a smile, biting your lip and laughing as Ted eyes you hungrily. You've never seen him want you so bad.

Ted's warm mouth engulfs one of your nipples, while his hands move to tease the other. The sensation is almost overwhelming alone, but you're practically soaking from how Bill's hands move against your cunt, not yet finding their way around your panties. Bill keeps his hand there, playing with you beneath your skirt until you're moaning out. You gasp when he parts your legs further, getting on his knees between them and bringing your legs up to rest on his shoulders. You look down at those brilliant blue eyes and that smile of his, watching with suspense as he slowly pushes your panties to the side, letting your damp cunt get a taste of that cool air.

You practically writhe against them both just from that. Your moans increase as Bill dips his head deeper, his mouth warmly blowing against your exposed pussy. You cry out as his tongue laps up the whole of your cunt, making sure to wet all of you even more, being sure to taste you completely. Ted continues at your breasts, and the combination of the two already has you practically cumming. Being this high makes it so easy, makes every movement feel so much more extreme. You feel the heat of your high radiating off your body, particularly your cunt right now.

Bill continues, bringing his attention to your clit, circling slowly, then faster. He uses a flat tongue between to really give all of it attention at once, then drives you made when he sucks softly. Your hand finds his mess of blond curls and tangles in it, trying to keep him on your clit when he's sucking hardest, before being overstimulated and having to take a breath. The two men laugh a few times from how much you're enjoying this, and you feel like you're under such a microscope for them right now. Like something for them both to play with together.

"I want you to moan his name..." You hear Ted's voice whisper to you, and you glance into his eyes.

He wants this. He wants to see you submit to his friend the way you have to him. You bite your lip, trying to really feel ready for that, and as Bill's mouth sucks once more, you do, calling out his name.

"Bill...! Please, god...it feels so good...!" You cry out, cunt aching for more.

"You'll have to ask him to let you cum. Maybe even beg..." Ted continues to instruct, and you nod like the good little slut you are, brain empty of everything except pleasure and pleasing right now.

Your legs shake as you begin to come closer, your pussy bucking into Bill's mouth for any friction it can get. Your nipples are so sensitive, and Ted takes his time making sure each are sufficiently attended to, his hands sometimes roaming else where to squeeze and hold. You feel your pleasure rising, and you don't know how much more you can take.

"Please, Bill! I need to cum so badly..." You whimper out, and see him looking up at you, his hand moving to take over on your clit so he can speak.

"That's right, I want you to cum for me. I want you to be a good little toy and cum while moaning out my name for me." Bill commands, and you don't even try to deny him.

He puts his mouth back to your pussy, taking all of it once more, sucking and licking, a few small nibbles with well placed teeth sending you over the edge, driving you absolutely mad. You clutch his hair, clutch onto Ted who's begun to twist and bite your nipples the way you like, and waves of pleasure pass over your body as your legs shake and practically clamp down on Bill's head. Both men hold you fast, keeping you still, keeping your legs open as your ride out wave after wave of pleasure. You feel completely gone, your body stimulated beyond what you thought possible, and your orgasm goes on for far past what you thought it would. Bill and Ted are not ones to quit, however, and their tongues and hands keep you going until you're completely satisfied.

When your muscles finally give up, legs parting and falling to your sides, they both take a breather. Ted rests his head on your chest, that rises and falls quickly, tiredly. Bill rests his head on your inner thigh, eyes barely open, looking at you with a satisfied smile. The three of you take all the time you need to recover, simply enjoying laying there together. It's not like there's anywhere to go in the morning, the snow has piled up way past what they thought it would. You guys have all the time in the world to explore each other.

Bill is the first to move, reaching over and taking a deep hit of the joint once more. He passes it to Ted, who passes it to your lips once more. You wearily take another hit, unsure if you could even get much higher, but there's no way you're about to let them both out smoke you after that. Ted finishes his hit and puts the joint on an ashtray on the coffee table.

Ted helps move you, pulling you up til you're on your hands and knees on the couch. Every move you make sends shock waves of residual pleasure through your legs and stomach, and you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning from just that. Your cunt wants so much more now, aching to be filled and throbbing from what Bill's already done to you. You, almost helplessly, as Bill gets on the couch in front of you, his cock flopping out of his sweatpants as he pulls them down.

Ted moves behind you, and you can't see what he's up to, but in a moment, you feel the heat of the tip of his cock against your ass. You shiver as all of it flops against your ass, glancing back and seeing Ted measuring his cock there, seeing how it will fit so nicely and deeply inside of you. You turn back to Bill, and without having to be told, take his cock in your hand, stroking it and admiring how much girth he had.

You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out like the dumb little fuck doll that you are, and Bill takes advantage of that, slipping his cock in as deeply as possible. You want to cry out but it comes out choked from how deep Bill is in your mouth, still in utter pleasure from how Ted slips his cock against your soaked cunt. Soon enough, Ted dips into your pussy, finding his way in slowly, but not stopping until he's gone as deep as he can. You're aching and stretched out by the time he gets to the hilt of his cock, and all you can do is look up at Ted who's slowly fucking your mouth the same way.

The two men keep taking what they want from your slutty little holes, and you find yourself closing your eyes and losing yourself to the sensation of being used so freely. You can't believe you've let both of them take you like this, trapped between the two of them so you couldn't get away if you tried, mouth and cunt filled to the brim with cock.

You feel Ted's hand reach up and grab your hair, pull it so that you can look back and see him. He keeps pulling you up until Bill's cock falls out of your mouth, and Ted's mouth is at your neck. You watch like a limp doll, unable to fight back, as Bill comes closer, taking your breaths in his hands, squeezing them together and lapping them up.

"You're pussy is mine, you got that?" You hear Ted grumble in your ear as he claims that part of you with his cock, his hand still pulling your hair.

You nod, unable to even speak at this point, letting and wanting them to do whatever to you, feeling so easily overpowered.

"Bill's allowed to have fun with your other two holes as much as he pleases, however..." Ted continues as Bill feasts on your breasts and let's a hand snake to your clit.

You squirm as he plays with you there, the cock that's filling you so deeply combined with that stimulation bringing you to your next orgasm. You spasm, your body unable to stop itself for cumming. Bill continues to work his hands on you as you work through yourself round of pleasure for the night. When you're finished, Ted's cock stalls for a moment, and you whine out.

"Tell him thank you for letting you cum." Ted instructs, face next to your neck, watching as Bill rises from your tits.

"T-thank you, Bill..." You stammer out, and Bill smiles, bringing your head towards him and kissing you deeply once more.

You happily kiss back, letting Bill explore your mouth with his tongue and yours doing the same. You can't believe how commanding your usually sweet, goofy boyfriend is. How how badly his best friend wants you. You also don't care for the implications, all you need right now is both of these men fucking your brains out until you're a mess that can barely walk. You let Ted slide of you, and with Bill's help flip you around so you're facing Ted once more. They both help to pick your weight up, and you easily slide back onto Ted's cock with your wet pussy. Bill reaches down, sliding some of your wetness to your ass.

"Is it okay if I try this?" You hear Bill ask, obviously wanting to try out your ass. You can tell he's half asking you, but who he's really asking is Ted. You nod, but Ted speaks up.

"As long as it's not her cunt, bro. I don't want anyone else accidently getting her pregnant, that's my job..." The way he talks about you like your his property has you wanting more, you feel so bare and ready to be used right now.

Bill nods, and slowly rubs his cock against your asshole, making slow movement, ready to stop if you were to protest. But you don't. You want both of them to fill you up down there, to feel completely full by both of their cocks was becoming more and more important as the time went by. You moan out as the tip of his cock begins to softly and slowly glide into your ass. Bill here's you groan in slight discomfort as it goes deeper, and he softly kisses your neck, assuring you. Ted doesn't move his cock inside you, not while you're so carefully starting to take Bill's. Instead, his hand goes to your clit, rubbing soft circles and easing tension from having Bill slowly go deeper inside you.

You welcome the pain and the pleasure of both, both men's mouths somewhere on your skin and kissing the pain away. Soon, Bill's entire cock has found it's way snuggly in your ass. You moan from how much it is, and for a few moments any slight movement from either of their cocks is driving you wild. Ted keeps his hand busy on your clit, kissing you deeply and sucking on your tongue as both of them slowly begin pumping in and out of you.

Your leg's can hardly hold themselves up, and you're lucky that both men can keep you suspended over their cocks so easily. You take Ted's cock in your pussy with ease, and slowly begin to take Bill's in your ass as well. You feel a heat like never before back there, and every time Bill plunges deeper, it's as if he's hitting a spot that you've never even tried before. You're a dumb mess between the two men, sloppily kissing both of them and changing when the other guides you to another. You feel pure bliss and ecstasy from how much pleasure is being taken from your sensitive cunt and asshole. Ted even makes sure to give your breasts the attention they need, before trading off to Bill who cups them from behind.

You feel both men's cocks rubbing harder and faster inside of you, feeling only a thin barrier between the two of them. You're stretched and full to the max, moans and words a jumble of pleasure, eyes fluttering shut from how badly you need to cum a third time. For a moment, the high makes you wonder if you haven't already, that's how good it feels to be sandwiched in between your boyfriend and his best friend. You don't even care if they use you as their fuck doll for the rest of the weekend. Part of you wishes the snow never let's up.

You feel Ted's cock begin to get harder first. Then Bill's follows, taking deeper and faster blows at your hole. You don't know how much more you can take, and you're babbling about how good it feels, while both men laugh at what a mess you are, enjoying the pleasure of taking so much of your body.

"God, babe, I can't believe how much of a slut you've been tonight. If I knew you were such a naughty girl, I would have shared you with Bill ages ago..." Ted groans out as he gets closer, looking you in the eyes, watching how hard it is for you to keep them open. You nod along like the dumb little whore you are.

"Yeah, I could have gotten a turn at taking such a tight asshole then." Bill whispers into your ear, biting and sucking your neck when he's done.

You feel completely taken by both of them. Completely owned. Completely devoured.

Your body relaxes into the pounding of your two holes and you let your trembling pussy cum for the third time tonight, taking all the pleasure it can get and then some. The unintended clenching and tightening of your holes sends both men over the edge. Ted first, who's faster cock slows and pounds cum as deep inside of your cunt as possible. Then Bill, who can barely slow down enough to finish, sealing his cock into your ass with a final stroke and letting his hot, sticky cum fill there.

Your body can barely keep itself up, and you whine when Bill and Ted take their cocks out of you slowly.

"Aw, does our princess miss being so full?" Ted asks as he pulls you onto his lap, both of your skins sweaty and glistening from the workout.

"Mhm..." You murmur, and to your surprise, and excitement, Ted lifts you up gently and let's you slide your pussy back onto his cock.

"There." He whispers in your ear, playing with your hair. "Now you can keep it warm for me..."

You giggle a little and snuggle into his neck, and you see Bill stand up, likely going to clean up.

"Thanks, dude, I knew your babe would be a totally good fuck." Bill says over his shoulder lazily, but satisfied.

"Anytime, dude, use her holes whenever you want..." Ted says with a smile, eyes looking into yours, waiting for you to say no the way he has been all night.

With the way you've just been fucked by them, you wouldn't even dare to deny him. You hope that this isn't the last time this weekend, even. You snuggle back into Ted's neck, and he talks softly to you, praising you.

"You were so good tonight," his dominating voice gone, now ready to give you the care you need. "You just tell me anytime you don't want to, we'll stop right away."

"No, I..." You breathe into his neck. "I like how you two used me up...I think I needed this..."

You feel his arms wrap around you, almost like a protective barrier between you and the world, and you sink happily into him, your cunt still warming his cock perfectly.

"I'm glad, you were such a good girl for us, I'm happy you had fun too..." His voice seems sleepier by the minute.

You hum a positive reply, and he keeps praising you, drawing little circles on your back until you fall asleep right there.

You're thankful for a snow storm in San Dimas.

[fairyniceyeah]

💎 I love my team, I love my crew (Part 6/7)

Title from Super (SEVENTEEN)

ILMTILMC Part I ILMTILMC Part II ILMTILMC Part III ILMTILMC Part IV ILMTILMC Part V

Summary: Jeonghan and Jun are faced with deciding which member receives the last medication.

CW: emeto, diarrhea in the context of illness, fevers, IVs

Sickies: Woozi/Jihoon + Minghao + Seungkwan + Vernon + S.Coups/Seungcheol + Wonwoo Caretakers: Jeonghan + Jun + Wonwoo + Hoshi/Soonyoung + Mingyu + Dino/Chan

💎😇

Something was eating Jun up from the inside and Jeonghan needed to know yesterday what was wrong. Considering that all cabins seemed to be okay at the moment, they unanimously decided to walk up to the deck, hoping for a bit of fresh air now that they had been inside for so long.

The night air was a bit cold and Jeonghan shivered a bit. Stars were shining brightly over them and the moon, along with a few lamps illuminated the lounge area where they sat down side by side. 

Jeonghan wouldn’t press Jun to speak even despite feeling like he would vibrate out of his skin with worry. Jun would speak when he had gathered himself.

“We have a problem”, Jun whispered, despite it just being the two of them. Jeonghan hummed and pulled the younger into his side. Jun was part of the hyung line, yes, but with two 95-liners out of commission Jun had basically been promoted to primary carer. He did well, but it was not his job, not what he was used to. Between eomma-hyung Jeonghan and caring leader Seungcheol there seldom was need for any other member to step up.

“There is no more medication left.”

Icy shock went through Jeonghan’s body. No, that couldn’t be, was his first thought. But Jun would not come to him with such information without not having fact-checked it. Besides, he had been with the medic, so he would know.

“Joshua-hyung got an IV. But most is expired and can’t be given. Well, we literally only have one antiemetic left. Sure, some pills but honestly, none of them will be able to keep them down.”

“Okay.” Jeonghan didn’t know what else to reply. He was scared too. So he just wrapped his arms tighter around Jun and let the younger calm down, ignoring the patches of tear and snot on his shoulder.

“We can decide who to give the last one to. Or maybe we should keep it in case somebody else might need it in the future”, Jun sniffed. “The medic texted and said that nobody from the staff currently is in need of it.”

They were both silent for a moment. Jeonghan tried to push back his own tears and focus on a solution. This was not his area of expertise. He didn’t want to be responsible for such a heavy-weight decision. But he couldn’t ask that of the younger members to decide either. He would have to step up as the healthy mat-hyung. 

“Hao and Shua already have IVs. Jihoon managed to take some meds and eat just now”, Jeonghan reported. “What about Cheollie and Kwan-ah?”

“And Vernonie.” 

Another sick dongsaeng. It didn’t make the choice easier.

“I’m mostly worried about Cheollie-hyung”, Jun continued, “he threw up multiple times and when Dino took his temperature about fifteen minutes ago he was pushing 40°C. He’s barely conscious. Seungkwan and Vernon are both vomiting and feverish too, but not as badly. Yet, maybe. Kwan-ah is at 38.6°C and Vernon at 38.4°C.”

Jeonghan took a deep breath, knowing if he didn’t he’d just start crying instead of speaking.

“Cheollie can’t take any oral medication?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. We could try, I guess, but he started throwing up when Dino-yah just tried to take his temperature.”

Jeonghan hummed. “He would need to eat first. Jihoonie got a really bad stomach ache from taking the meds on an empty stomach. We can’t risk that again.”

Another moment of silence.

“Han-ah? Jun-ah?”, the lead manager said quietly from behind them, causing both of them to jump. The man apologized and walked around them to sit with them in the lounge area. 

“How are you holding up?”, he asked gently. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be of much help. A lot of staff members are not well either, though none are as bad off as the members.”

“We’re okay”, Jun whispered, wiping one last stray tear from his face. Jeonghan just nodded, despite feeling the opposite. He knew they both were lying. The manager seemed to know too.

“I just finished speaking with the CEO. We can’t move the boat, we don’t have enough healthy people able to sail. But the good news is that they are sending medical evacuation our way. The boat should be here by morning with enough medications and doctors to help.”

It was meant to be reassuring. But all Jeonghan wanted to do was cry. Morning seemed so far. They would have to last the night first.

💎🐈‍⬛

Wonwoo didn’t know what he expected when he entered the cabin. It certainly was more peaceful than this. 

Soonyoung and Jihoon were sitting side by side on Jihoon’s bed, Soonyoung holding the younger up as Jihoon violently threw up all over himself, the dance leader, the bedding and the floor. The smell would have been overwhelming if it hadn’t been stuck in Wonwoo’s nose for hours. 

Jihoon was crying again, coughing up mouthfuls of what Wonwoo suspected was Mingyu’s juk. This really wasn’t good - no matter how Jihoon seemed to feel better between overwhelming bouts of nausea he just wasn’t able to keep anything down. 

Wonwoo rushed over, trying not to step into the puddle and grabbed the trash can that was standing uselessly on the side of the bed. It must have happened too quickly for Soonoyung to grab it. He held it under Jihoon’s chin and gently caressed the younger’s hair that had fallen out of his braid and was now in the line of danger.

“Oh, Jihoonie”, he whispered, feeling so helpless in face of his friend’s illness. 

At least Minghao was still asleep.

“Sorry”, the producer whimpered as his body gave him a short break, “I thought…” He had to break off to retch again. 

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Breathe”, Soonyoung said but his voice was wobbly. Wonwoo shot him a look but Soonyoung shook his head. They could talk about whatever Soonyoung was dealing with later.

It took another few minutes for Jihoon to be able to lean back a bit, looking so young and scared. Wonwoo carefully placed the bucket down and as he looked up, Soonyoung was already wiping the producer’s tears away. 

“Guess eating wasn’t a good idea, huh?”, the dancer remarked. “I’m so sorry, I really thought it might help.”

So that was what was bothering the dancer. Before Wonwoo could even reassure him, Jihoon mumbled: “Not your fault. I should have told you I was feeling so sick. Mingyu was so proud. I’m sorry.”

Soonyoung seemed like he wanted to retort to that but Wonwoo interrupted them this time. “Let’s play the blame game another time. How do you feel now?”

Jihoon smiled sheepishly, then his expression went hard and he clutched his stomach. “Stomach still hurts. Badly.” He buried his face in Soonyoung’s shoulder, trying to breathe through the pain.

“Hm, okay. I’ll see what we can do about that. First: Do you two wanna get cleaned up in the bathroom? I’ll take care of everything here.”

“Sorry.”

“Nope, all out of accepting stupid apologies”, Wonwoo replied and ushered the two into the tiny bathroom. “Try to take a shower if you can.”

Wonwoo emptied the bucket into the toilet and then placed it by the door to the hallway. Normally he’d washed it out in the shower but that seemed a bit disgusting considering that Jihoon and Soonyoung were about to shower. So instead he gathered the soiled blankets, grabbed the dirty clothes from the bathroom floor and walked to the laundry room again. It was becoming oddly familiar to him. 

On his way back to the room, having found a mop and a cleaning bucket, he stumbled into Mingyu, who grimaced when he saw what he was holding. 

“Jihoon”, Wonwoo explained and sighed. “He’s really not doing well. Can you see if you find Jun or Jeonghan? I think Jihoon needs an IV even if he really doesn’t want it.”

“Yeah.”

“How are the others, Gyu?”, Wonwoo asked, realizing he had no idea how the other sick members were doing.

“Jun and I managed to get some juk into Vernon and Seungkwan”, Mingyu reported. Wonwoo sighed. He hadn’t even known that Vernon was sick too. His best friend sniffled a bit before adding: “I don’t think Cheollie-hyung is doing well. He’s really feverish.”

Wonwoo just squeezed his shoulder in silent support and they took different paths.

Once he had everything cleaned up and had taken the last clean bedding from the second bunk bed just in time for Jihoon and Soonyoung to stumble out of the shower, Minghao woke up. 

“Gege?”, he asked in Mandarin, clearly still half-asleep. 

Seeing that Soonyoung had no issues supporting a wobbly and seemingly dizzy Jihoon, Wonwoo went over to him and sat down beside him on the bed. “Hyung is here, hm? Jun isn’t here at the moment.”

Minghao grumbled a bit in unhappiness but wiggled closer to Wonwoo anyhow and lifted his head to lay it on Wonwoo’s thigh. He sighed contentedly and Wonwoo thought he would just fall back asleep again when Minghao rolled onto his back and blinked up at Wonwoo.

“Wonwoo-hyung?”, he asked sleepily.

“Hi, baby”, he greeted softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Hm. Better I think”, Minghao said. “My stomach doesn’t seem angry anymore. Just tired.”

“I’m glad”, Wonwoo replied honestly. At least one dongsaeng was feeling less bad. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“Hm, yeah.”

Within seconds Minghao was asleep again. 

Peace didn’t last long.

“Jihoonie?”, Soonyoung called in a panic and Wonwoo jerked his head up to see what was going on. His heart dropped to his knees as he saw Soonyoung struggle to keep a limp and obviously unconscious Jihoon from falling to the floor.

💎😇

The moment Mingyu approached them, they quickly stopped their conversation with the lead manager. There was no need for Mingyu to get even more worried and he had likely sought them out for a reason. Jeonghan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will his headache away.

“Gyu? What’s wrong?”, Jun asked, already halfway upright before he finished his own question. 

“Wonwoo-hyung asked me to find you. Jihoon-hyung wasn’t able to keep the juk down. I think he’s really unwell.” Mingyu fidgeted a bit, wringing his hands. He seemed incredibly nervous to deliver the bad news. Jeonghan suppressed his urge to groan.

“I’ll go. Will you check on Cheollie-hyung?”, Jun said, turning his attention to Jeonghan. Jun smiled a bit, probably offering because he knew that Jeonghan was worried about his best friend and hadn’t seen him in some time. And he was worried. But he didn’t know if he wanted to see Seungcheol if he truly was this bad off. He just wanted to run.

“Yeah”, he agreed nevertheless. He couldn’t just refuse and worry his dongsaengs. “We need to check on Shua too. I don’t like that Seokmin’s alone with him.”

“Do you want me to go check on Shua-hyung?”, Mingyu asked, looking like he was surprising himself with the offer as well. While they didn’t want to worry their dongsaengs, Jeonghan couldn’t deny that the help would be very much needed and appreciated.

“That would be really nice, actually”, Jun replied, “thank you, Minguy-ah. But if Shua-hyung and Seokmin are fine, please try to just rest.” As he walked past he ruffled Mingyu’s hair in appreciation. It was a good solution. Maybe one room where the members could peacefully sleep was a good idea.

Jeonghan pushed himself to his feet and the three headed downstairs and into the three rooms.

The cabin was more relaxed than Jeonghan had imagined. Seungkwan and Vernon were asleep on one bed, cuddled up to each other. Seungkwan was laying on his back with Vernon passed out on his chest, arms holding the younger in a soft embrace. It was cute. Homely.

The only light came from the bathroom; it was bright enough to not stumble into things when walking but low enough to not disturb the sleeping members.

Dino was perched on the bed next to Seungcheol, pressing a cool compress to the leader’s forehead. He looked relieved the moment Jeonghan entered, shoulders slumping down and a tiny smile replacing the worried frown.

“Hyung”, he whispered, mindful of the sleeping members, “I am so glad you are here.”

“Hi, Dino-yah”, Jeonghan replied as he came to stand next to the maknae, pulling him into a half-embrace against his stomach, “I’m sorry it took hyung so long. A lot is going on. How is he?”

“His fever barely went down. He couldn’t eat anything of the juk. He’s … bad.”

They only had one antiemetic left. Something that Jihoon really needed, considering he couldn’t stop throwing up everything in his stomach. But Seungcheol needed something to get his fever down and for that he needed to be able to keep the medication down long enough for it to work. 

As if knowing they were talking about him, Seungcheol shifted. He was so incredibly pale, everything around him - hair, clothes, sheets - all sweat-soaked. He was shivering badly but there was a bright flush on his face. He seemed to be deeply asleep but not peacefully.

“I was thinking a cool shower might help? My eomma always made me take lukewarm baths when I was sick as a kid”, Dino continued. “I just can’t do it on my own.”

It was not a bad idea. Actually it was a pretty pretty good one. Jeonghan told the maknae as much, praising him. Together they decided that taking off Seungcheol’s shirt and pants would be easier when the leader was still in bed so they went to work. 

Seungcheol was not a short guy, anything but. While Jeonghan was as tall as him, Seungcheol was a lot more muscular and therefore heavier. And Dino was tiny. Carrying their leader was difficult, considering there was no help from him. 

Luckily the shower door was open and Jeonghan slid inside, leaning Seungcheol against his chest. There was no way he would be able to hold himself up. 

“Careful, water”, Dino said and aimed the shower head at them. The water wasn’t cold, lukewarm really, but immediately Seungcheol reacted as if he had been dosed in ice. A full body shiver ran through him, nearly making Jeonghan lose his grip on him. Then he woke up with a cry.

Weakly he kicked out, struggling against the hold Jeonghan had on him. “Stop”, he begged, his voice full of scared desperation. “Please.”

“I’m sorry, Cheollie”, Jeonghan whispered into his ear, “we need to get you cooled down.” 

The leader whimpered and he seemed not to understand Jeonghan’s words. He still fought, twisting his body and … oh, he was crying.

“Please”, Seungcheol whimpered. “It hurts.”

Jeonghan understood that the cold water must have felt painful on his hot skin but they really needed that fever to get lower. He tightened his grip and looked up at the maknae, who was staring at them with a mix of grim determination and fear. 

“Don’t stop, Dino”, Jeonghan ordered shakily. It was horrible to watch Seungcheol cry and fight like this and he was scared too. But they had no choice. 

“I got you, ddadu, it’s going to be alright.” Jeonghan hoped his words were right.

Seungcheol continued sobbing and moving uncoordinatedly. He didn’t recognize where he was, with whom he was, so much was clear. Seeing their headstrong, smart leader helpless and crying like this … Jeonghan wanted to cry with him. 

Instead he mumbled comforting whispers over Seungcheol’s pained whimpers.

It seemed like hours later when Seungcheol stopped fighting and just slumped back into Jeonghan, exhausted. His head lolled against Jeonghan’s shoulder and to Jeonghan’s surprise he opened his eyes. There was a clarity in them that had been deeply missed. 

“Hannie?”, he whispered, voice hoarse probably from the vomiting earlier.

Hearing his voice made tears shoot to Jeonghan’s eyes and this time he couldn’t suppress them. At least he could pass them off as water from the shower.

“Hi, Cheollie. How are you feeling?”

“Weird. My stomach hurts. My head too.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“A bit. I’m really cold too.”

They had been under the shower for nearly fifteen minutes, it would have to be enough. “Dino-yah, please turn off the water.”

The maknae did as bid and held Seungcheol steady while Jeonghan got up and stripped out of his wet clothes. He didn’t particularly care for himself but Dino threw him a pointed look until he dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his shivering upper body. His wet boxers clung to his skin but this was really not Jeonghan’s priority. 

They managed to get Seungcheol wrapped in a towel and sitting on the closed toilet seat soon enough. Dino procured some underwear and a tank top for the leader, and a set of clothes for Jeonghan from Seungcheol’s suitcase as well. He scurried off to strip the bed off the disgusting, sweat-soaked sheets. Seungcheol was already falling asleep again, but with gently shaking him awake every minute or so, Jeonghan managed to get first himself and then his best friend dressed. Maybe the light clothes would help him feel better. 

“I wanna sleep”, Seungcheol whispered, “I am so tired.”

“I know, baby”, Jeonghan replied and grabbed the thermometer gun from where it was laying on the sink, “I know you’re exhausted. Let me take your temperature and dry your hair. Do you think you could eat a bit and take some medicine?”

“I’m tired.”

Jeonghan sighed. The thermometer still beeped loudly, suggesting a temperature of 39.2°C. At least the shower had helped a bit. If Seungcheol couldn’t keep the medicine down, he would need the antiemetic so he could finally take fever reducers. The temperature was too high to stay like this the whole night.

He rubbed Seungcheol’s hair dry as much as he could without a hair dryer - he didn’t want to use it in case it woke up Seungkwan and/or Vernon. Even if they had slept through the shower he wanted them to rest as much as possible.

When Dino returned to the bathroom, they lifted Seungcheol between them and helped the sleepy leader take the few steps to his bed. The moment he sat down, Seungcheol tried to lay down but Jeonghan stopped him as much as he didn’t want to.

“Just a few minutes, Cheollie, then you can go back to sleep”, he assured. “Try to eat a bit, okay?” He gestured at Dino to bring over the thermos of juk, hoping the porridge was at least a bit warm still. Dino poured some of the contents into a bowl and grabbed a spoon before carefully kneeling down in front of Seungcheol. 

“You just need to cuddle Hannie-hyung, hyung”, Dino encouraged, “I’ll feed you, okay?”

Seungcheol turned his face to hide in Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Too tired. Sick. Don’t wanna throw up.”

“Please try, Cheollie. It’s important.”

But Seungcheol refused, still clearly too unwell to do anything as strenuous as eat. The shower had taken all his remaining energy and more. Jeonghan’s voice shook as he decided: “Dino, go get the medic. He needs the IV if he refuses to eat.”

“IV?”, Seungcheol asked, suddenly a bit more alert. “I don’t want an IV.”

“I know, but we need to get your fever down and if you can’t eat now, we need to stop your nausea somehow so you can take them orally”, Jeonghan explained patiently. 

“Okay.”

💎🍚

“I’m sorry, Jihoonie”, Jun said resolutely, “I know you don’t want an IV but you’ve thrown up everything you have eaten since this morning. You fainted after the shower because you are really out of strength.”

Jihoon wanted to cry, scream, yell. Truth was, he was too exhausted. He knew Jun had a point. He had managed the shower just fine with Soonyoung holding him up. But the few steps back to bed had been too much for his abused circulatory system. His vision had gone black just after a step and Soonyoung had managed to catch him just barely. He had woken up on the floor to the dancer elevating his legs and Wonwoo tapping his cheeks, trying to get him to drink something. 

But even recovering for a few moments sitting against Wonwoo on the floor, hadn’t done much. The three sips of water he had managed to swallow had come back up nearly directly into the plastic bag Soonyoung had managed to shove to his lips just in time. 

Was enduring a stranger poking him with needles while his stomach was still throwing a fit really worth it? Jihoon wasn’t sure. 

Jun was sure enough for both of them apparently. So were Wonwoo and Soonyoung.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”, Jihoon asked. 

“No”, Soonyoung replied, taking both of Jihoon’s hands in his and squeezed. “I promise I’ll stay here and the medic is kicked out the moment the IV is done. But you need medication and you need fluids. If you can’t keep anything down you’ll just feel worse.”

“Okay.”

“Wonwoo-yah, why don’t you go and find the … Wonwoo-yah?”, Jun said and as he faltered all attention was turned to the tall rapper, who was leaning against the bunk bed, using one hand to hold himself up against the railing and was clutching his stomach with the other.

“Are you alright?”, Jun asked worriedly and stepped closer to him.

Wonwoo lifted his head and groaned in pain. His eyes darted to the hallway door, then to the bathroom door. “Don’t follow me.”

With more speed than any of them had anticipated he stumbled to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Fuck. Another one down. Jihoon felt bad, he had been with Wonwoo nearly all day. It was likely him who had infected him.

“Hold on”, Jun mumbled and stepped to knock on the door. “Wonwoo, can I come in?”

There was silence for a minute before Wonwoo, voice muffled but clearly full of pain, answered: “Please don’t. I, uhm, I’m not throwing up.”

They all shuddered when they realized what was happening. 

“Maybe he should have the IV if he is sick from both ends”, Jihoon said, knowing he sounded a bit too gleeful for it to be polite. He wished he felt bad about it but he was worried for Wonwoo and scared of needles and strangers, all while sick. Maybe that gave him a bit of grace.

“I’m … God, this is embarrassing, I’m not nauseous”, Wonwoo called. 

“Not at all?”, Jun questioned.

“No. Just you know … everything turned liquid in the other direction.” Jihoon did feel really bad now. He was sure that Wonwoo was likely even more embarrassed now than Jihoon had been all day and he had thrown up on another member - twice. 

“I’ve been cleaning up puke all day, why am I getting the opposite?”, Wonwoo added and groaned. 

“Can we do anything for you?”, Jun asked at the same time Soonyoung mumbled: “Isn’t the opposite of throwing up eating?”

“Leave me to die in humiliating peace”, Wonwoo answered. “Soonyoung, I love you but shut the fuck up.”

“I think he has been wanting to say this to you for years”, Jihoon stage-whispered.  Soonyoung pouted.

Jihoon grinned a bit, though it turned into a grimace when his stomach cramped anew and he pressed his lips tightly shut. 

Jun sighed and broke the light hearted affair with his next words. “Well, Jihoonie, I’m sorry, but I guess you’re up after all. I’ll go find the medic.”

ILMTILMC Part VII

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

[sh1-n0bu]

Okay (takes a deep breath) HELLO

I hope you are doing well..So I recently started following you. I'M JUST IN LOOOOVE IN YOUR WRITING

so I had like this angst idea.I'm a sadist.I enjoy putting my fav characters through hell

Angst ask ( I'm still confused about the rules so please forgive me)

Angst (little yandre s/o)

Let's say that we're m/n and we love our s/o very much. We have a vision and we're like the perfect person to exist on teyvat (I literally met a like this person today) looks 100👍 personality (cute, caring and strong ofc) anyway buff them as much u want.So we went on a mission almost died by getting injured.Somehow made it back to s/o's special day.Spend the whole day with them while dying (u know tanjiro who never dies no matter how much injuries he has) like that.But we got ambushed in middle of nowhere .S/o got hit first and became a burden. Can't fight because of the injury (for s/o) and became almost paralyzed and barely killing the enemies.On the other hand we're dying before but everything crashed and we're fighting with death and enemies and had to protect s/o also (S/O was really weak today and we took the hit again for them and finish the whole fight alone) we almost or say SAYONARA BITCH and maybe die on them or our vision is losing it's glow quickly and we are drowning in our own blood

Ur choice

The self hate part (while the're paralyzed) their dark thoughts are talking over them

It's their fault for being so useless

It's their fault we are almost dead or dead

It's their fault

Their fault

Ahhh sorry because this shit is so long

I had more on my brain ehehehe

Anyway if you don't like it please feel free to ignore it

Loooooove you

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

😈anon (The emojis are so messed up in this device)

Have a great year ahead

Best of luck

Byeeeeee

✿ 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 ✿

characters: 6reeze x nb!reader

warnings: blood, fighting, canon typical violence, reader has vision, almost dying, angst, light crack and fluff

notes: WOOOO man 😈 nonnie bby you popped off for this one! also wtf nobu is still alive y’all 😨😨

definitely the type to blame himself the most if the people he loves and cares for would get injured, even if he was in another nation when it happened

you get that feeling of immense guilt when you accidentally step on your pet and they yowl very loudly in pain and you want to apologize and pet them to soothe them but they’re backing away from you?

yeah take that feeling and multiply it ten times, that’s how aether felt when he heard your pained shout when trying to get yourselves away from the ambush

when he saw your body fall down to the dirt with blood slowly seeping into the grass, painting the beautiful field in heartbreaking red, he blanked out

only came to himself when your hand touched his cheek, reminding him that you’re both alive as paimon sobs between you two

he was just so worried that you will leave him behind just like lumine and he couldn’t help the aching feeling of his heart being stabbed as his eyes felt more watery and his throat clenched up

aether already lost a loved one and he’s desperately trying to find her and bring her back, so please be careful and always come back to him and paimon

sobbing into your shoulder as his arms wrapped tightly around your body, the blonde traveler couldn’t tell if the wetness he feels on his cheeks is either from his tears or your blood. and he can’t make out any noises other than the ringing, the terrified thumps of his heart and paimon’s sobs. were you alive? please be alive.

feeling a hand wipe away his tears, aether pulled back from sobbing to your shoulders as he looks at you with wide and puffy eyes. you were alive!

tackling you down into a hug, he ignored your pained grunt as he wailed loudly into your chest. clinging to your shirt, weakly hitting your shoulders as he rambled about being more careful and to never make him nor paimon this worried ever again.

“yeah yeah… but aether we need to patch ourselves up before we bleed out to death”.

“…oh”.

the karmic debt that eats away at his mind, body and heart is always on the brink of taking over and turning him into a mindless, raging beast

and thanks to his karma, the guardian yaksha is always at the tip of his feet. ready to run away, desert himself or if needed to, spread out his golden wings and fly far far away where he would harm no one. only himself

sadly it was another day where his karma was at it’s worst. every single movement, shifting of muscles feeling like they’re being torn apart, every little inhale and exhale of breath feeling like his lungs are being stabbed

that’s when it happened. the ambush, the fatui, the accident - it all happened too fast for the adepti to even realize what was going on until something wet splatters on his cheek

blood. your blood

at that, the guardian yaksha put on his mask, uncaring of the agony in his body as he dashes between the ambushers, swiftly taking them down before returning to your side

feeling a shaky hands trying and failing miserably over and over to wrap a bandage around your torso, you manages to crack an eye open to stare at the blurry figure of your boyfriend. faintly you could hear him cuss under his breath as his weak state tries to stop the bleeding with trembling hands. from fear? anxiety? his own karma? you didn’t know and neither did he.

“shit shit shit shit! just stay awake [name]! we’re almost at the wangshu inn!”

noticing your eyes growing hazy, he places a hand on your shoulder and gently shakes you, causing you to grunt in pain. shit was that the wrong move? did he accidentally caused your injuries to worsen?

the touch of your hand covering his own gloved ones snaps him out of his inner tantrum as he looks at your face.

“idiot… why are you smiling?”

“hahah… calm down, love… it’s not that deep. we can walk to the wangshu inn together…”

as the most famous detective and doushin of inazuma, heizou tends to attract a few ill intention carrying people to himself. and that’s precisely why he always tries to keep your relationship a secret even if he desperately wants to hold your hand in public, take you out on nice dates and see the many beautiful sceneries together

alas, not all relationships can exactly be happy go lucky. more so if the person your in a relationship with is the most successful detective of inazuma

all it happened in a blink of an eye. you and him were just supposed to take a nice walk around the beaches together at late night without too many prying eyes and curious whispers, yet heizou seems to have underestimated just how dirty the kairagi can play

the detective even tried threatening when the gang of treasure hunters and nobushis didn’t budge, instead deciding to attack straight at the two of you. the anemo user was fast but the treasure hoarders were too many for him to handle, causing both of you to end up injured

when seeing your bleeding chest, his breath hitches. hands starting to shake, breathing picking up pace as his mind goes back in a memory lane, way back to when his first and only childhood friend laid dying in his arms with the stupid green pebble clutched in his hand

was this real? was that incident happening all over again? no. no no no no, he can’t - he couldn’t lose you. not you. anyone but you -

feeling your weight slump over his shorter frame, the detective snaps out of his momentary panic attack. as your arm comes up to rest on his shoulder, the wine colored haired young man understands your intention. wrapping his own arm around your middle, heizou guides yourselves back to inazuma city as fast as he could support your larger frame.

“hehe… seems like… people might just find out that we’re dating huh ‘zou?”

“heh… just keep your energy and keep walking [name]”

only when hearing that your wounds weren’t in fatal places did shikanoin managed to breathe out a sigh of relief. shoulders sagging as he feels the heavy weight of anxiety slip off of his body, the doushin enters the room you’re resting in to give you a nice long lecture to never jump in front of him to use yourself as a shield again.

after living in hundreds of years under the perfectly hidden disguise, the anemo archon has seen and heard everything the world had to offer. from the joys of his people during festivals to now, the familiar, disgusting feeling of dread churning in his stomach as he waits for your healing to finish

it was a sudden ambush, he was told by the small group you were traveling with. apparently a few abyss heralds had shown up, causing you to use your pyro vision too much to the point you ended up burning your own self

venti couldn’t sit still. pacing back and forth in front of the door of the cathedral, tapping his feet anxiously, fiddling with the necklace you lovingly placed around his collarbone on your relationship’s first year anniversary - now feeling like he was being choked by the gift he treasured

after what seems like hours, the door opens and he’s let in to meet you

you were staying in one of the emergency rooms at the back of the cathedral. the soft glow of the sunset peeking in through the window shining down on your unconscious body, making him feel a mix of awe at your visage but also dread at the amount of pain your body could possibly be going through

dragging a chair up to sit beside your bed, the bard decides to stay beside your recovering figure until you wake up

grunting and shifting, you could feel the bright afternoon sun beating down on you. it felt unconscious and annoying, why didn’t venti close the curtains? he knows how much you hate the afternoon sun.

wait… venti… curtains…

forcing your eyes to open up, you felt a soft tiny weight laying down on your chest right over your beating heart. bringing a bandaged hand up, you poked at the small figure of the wind spirit.

ah right… the accident with the traveling and the abyss heralds.

at the fifth poke, the tiny wind spirit seems to wake up. yawning, the little guy sits up on your chest before his sleepy hazed mind finally realizes you’re awake.

throughout the rest of the afternoon and way into the night, some of the sisters in the cathedral could hear your voice talking back to an angry sounding chirps. they decided to just act like it never happened and continue on with their work.

“human life is worthless”.

that’s what the puppet always scoffs whenever he comes across a grave or reminded of your mortality by your silly questions of “will you remember me after i’m dead?”

and yet why was he screaming his lungs out as he shakes your unconscious body in his arms?

why was it raining? why was his eyes wet even with the wide brimmed hat covering his face?

… why were you bleeding in the middle of the avidya forest?

after having a meltdown over your paling body, wanderer decides to act quick and take you to someone named tighnari. you’ve introduced the two while you were showing the puppet around sumeru, “he’s great with medicine and is one of the best forest rangers” he could remember your smiling fave as he recalls your words

scooping up your body into his arms, the former harbinger uses his anemo vision to fly towards the small village where the forest ranger is located

bursting in through the front door, wanderer nervously calls out for tighnari as he disregards the many looks of worry, fear and pity around him. he just needed to get you to help fast

it had been a few days since your lover had found you bruised and bleeding on avidya forest’s grounds. there’s not a single moment where he’s gotten up and left your side. not even once, not even when the fennec fox pesters him that he should look out for his own health as well.

just how the fuck was he supposed to look over himself when you could very well be on the thin line between life and death?

it was on the fourth day when the puppet felt your fingers twitch in his gentle grasp. sitting up straight, he sits closer to your unconscious body, hoping, praying to the archons that any sign could be seen or heard.

and this time, the archons seems to have took pity on the poor heartbroken puppet as you shifted and groaned, finally starting to wake up. he breathed out a sigh of relief, a single stray tear falling down his puffy eyes as he wipes it away before cradling your cheeks in his hands tenderly.

“welcome back, darling…”

oh gosh imagine the amount of ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks and self blaming this man gets when he sees you get injured

even worse, when you two are fighting together on the battlefield

when you would get injured his state of mind is immediately reverting back to tomo’s death. the blank vision of his friend, the lightning that incarnated his flesh and bones leaving behind nothing to burry, nothing to remember him by, the sheer absolute helplessness the kaedehara felt

acting on pure instincts alone, the samurai scoops up your bleeding body in his arm and he does the same thing he has done before. run.

only when far away from the ambush place and their chasers could no longer be seen or heard does he allows himself to breathe

placing down your injured body, kazuha brings out a few rolls of bandages as he looks over your wounds

was it in a lethal place? how deep was it? did the ambushers had elemental powers? he didn’t know nor could he remember. his vision is just red as his chest heaves, mind being overridden with nothing but panic

this scenery, this moment, this feeling - it was all too familiar to the poor samurai, he couldn’t even comprehend what was real or what was fake

everything was too much

that was, until he feels your hand tugging on his kimono sleeve

finally taking a few deep breaths to calm his mind and racing heart, kaedehara starts to patch up your wounds, albeit a bit sloppily with his trembling hands

staggering with your taller frame leaning on his shorter one for support, kazuha could make out beidou and the crux members’ surprised and worried shouts as some of them drops the luggage they were moving into the ship, instead running over to the couple to aid their members.

as one of the men take your unconscious body away from him, kazuha finds himself following behind wordlessly to the med room. archons was the blood on his white kimono yours? have you truly lost this much blood?

… would you be okay?

snapping himself out of his sudden dark thought, the wandering samurai feels beidou place a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. she could see the young man wasn’t injured, then that would only mean all of the blood on him is from you.

quietly standing together, the captain and the samurai awaits for the medic to finish patching you up. becoming a comforting pillar to lean on to each other as some time passes until the medic finally comes out with a small smile.

just by looking at the medic, kazuha knew you would pull through. that was how you always were. strong and steady, just like the geo vision you had mastered.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Hu Tao, Jean, and Rosaria with a tsundere reader

Hu Tao has an absolute blast turning (Y/N) redder than her flames.

She always comes up from behind to hear them yelp, giving a quick "Boo!"

(Hu Tao) "Hi there, miss me?"

(Y/N) "A-As if!"

(Hu Tao) "Aww, what happened to the nice (Y/N) from dinner last night?"

(Y/N) "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

To make them flustered gives her such life.

But what surprised her most of all, was that (Y/N) could make her equally amounts of flustered back by simply being themselves.

Hu Tao's heart almost stopped when (Y/N) smiled at her after a lengthy serious conversation at night.

(Y/N) "I'm really glad I got to meet you, Hu Tao. I'm not sure my life would be the same without you."

Ever since that day, Hu Tao has made sure to ease back on the teasing if they had a serious conversation.

(Hu Tao) "Hey, do you mind if I ask something?"

(Y/N) "Sure, what's on your mind?"

(Hu Tao) "Um...Wanna go out for dinner? No pranks this time, I promise."

(Y/N) "..."

(Hu Tao) "...Maybe just one."

(Y/N) smiled, which warmed her cheeks, thankfully they didn't notice that.

(Y/N) "That sounds more realistic. Sure, I'd love to."

(Hu Tao) "Aw, does that mean you do like me?"

(Y/N) "Huh?"

(Hu Tao) "M-MY PRANKS!"

(Y/N) coughed awkwardly and looked away.

(Y/N) "A-Ah, right. I mean! No, of course I don't!"

Okay, they definitely noticed that flubb up.

She was surprised at her own inability to catch that mistake, what was kind (Y/N) doing to her?!

Jean always had some way to wiggle her way out of (Y/N)'s harsh remarks.

Whether it was by being so genuinely nice and caring, or stern, (Y/N)'s tsundere tendencies always died at the tip of their tongue when speaking to Jean.

Jean is slightly aware of it though, due to hearing it from others.

She's pretty used to it and knows how to talk her way around it thanks to Eula.

But what she isn't immune to is (Y/N)'s scolding when she's working.

(Y/N) "Come on Jean, the Acting-Grand Master doesn't need to be chasing a cat! Do you wanna get yourself killed by exhaustion over a dang cat?!"

(Jean) "I-I think that's an exaggeration."

(Y/N) "What happens if I'm not around and you get yourself hurt? Then I'd have to drag you to Barbara myself!"

Jean very much appreciates their concern whenever they voice it.

Which is very often.

But, to her surprise they're always a little red whenever they say they care about her.

Jean always wonders why that's exactly the case. Surely it's not embarrassing to say you care for a friend?

Then again, Eula did the same, so it was probably that.

Rosaria is able to get a reaction out of S/O often with her deadpan expression.

(Rosaria) "Since you hate me, guess I'll go to Angel's Share by myself."

(Y/N) "What makes you think I hate you, you idiot?!"

Rosaria's lips turn into a smug grin, small enough to overtake her attitude, but big enough to annoy (Y/N).

(Y/N) "L-Look, I'll go with you, okay?!"

(Rosaria) "You can just say you want to go with me, you know."

(Y/N) "Just get moving, will you?"

They try to hide their blush, but it always fails.

Rosaria thinks their reactions are a little cute, but what surprised her the most was how quiet they were the first time they were patching her wounds at night.

(Rosaria) "...You okay?"

(Y/N) "I'm fine. The real question is, are you?"

(Rosaria) "I'm still breathing, aren't I?"

(Y/N) "But for how long?"

...

(Y/N) "If you ever get hurt like this again, come straight to me. But try not to do this anymore, got it?"

She can hear their scolding tone, but their eyes were filled with such worry.

(Rosaria) "I can't promise I'll be squeaky clean. But...I'll make sure I'll go to you first."

(Y/N) "Good."

Ever since, Rosaria always had a caring, if a little angry, individual bandaging her up.

Rosaria has learned to half tune out their scolding, but she's grown to enjoy having company after a job well done.

On the plus side, she gets a comfy bed to sleep on, though she insists it's fine to share the bed with her.

Which that answer always gets a laugh out of Rosaria, seeing them almost scream "HELL NO!", though it's obvious they want to.

Maybe one day, she'll have to drag them in there...

[erose-this-name]

Every Time a Bell Rings

Cult of the Lamb Ficlet

⋅∴∵∴∵∴∵⁂∵∴∵∴∵∴⋅

It had been a long night serving at the drinkhouse for the yellow-furred cat follower (of varying name). He is behind on getting everything cleaned and shut down for the day.

Then the Lamb happens to walk by, yawns, and picks up a mop. Their favorite, eldritch mop.

The yellow cat says, “Leader, it’s fine, really, I can handle this on my own.”

“And yet, you have my help.” The Lamb smiles.

If the yellow cat has learned anything about his leader, it’s that they’re not the kind to delegate. If they see something that needs doing, they just do it. No matter how dirty. This is starkly contrast to every other crown bearer he’s ever heard of.

The bell around the Lamb’s neck rings with each push of their mop.

“Leader, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but why are you always wearing that bell?” The yellow cat asks.

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not annoying, is it? I suppose I could change into another fleece…” Lamb says.

Yellow cat says, “No, no! Not at all. Actually, it's nice to hear you’re near, makes me feel safe. It’s just, I mean, a lot of us have been wondering why you wear it? Isn’t it annoying for you?”

“Oh, baahaahaa! Yeah, I guess it’s not a very ‘fashionable’ accessory, is it?” The Lamb laughs.

Somehow the thought people would question the bell has never crossed the sheep's mind. They goes back to mopping, their brow furrowing slightly.

“Um, so when I was very young, I used to crawl all over the place. You know how babies do that. And, my parents were afraid I’d wander too far and, uh… attract the Bishops to our hidden refuge. So they put the bell on me. So they’d always know where I was. Even when I got old enough to not need it, when I understood… it just kind of felt wrong if a bell doesn’t ring with every step, you know? I was so used to it.” They say.

The cult leader has been absentmindedly moping and mopping the same patch of floor well past the point of spotless.

The Lamb holds the base of the bell and rings it in their hand. Its tinkling sound rings clearly. “I find it calming.”

Yellow Cat sees that several other faint children’s names had been crudely engraved into the base of that old, dinged up bell, then scratched out. Each name’s marks are increasingly worn down and filled with tarnish. The last name has had every letter except L-A-M-B scratched off, in their place are marks fresh enough to still expose raw shiny brass beneath the layers of patina.

SHEPHERD RAMSES BOPEEP COSSETTE LAMBERT

The feline follower’s expression had been steadily falling through the whole story. “Oh, right. Of course… I’m sorry I asked, Leader.”

The Lamb puts on a half smile and coquettishly tilts their head to the side. “Don’t worry about it. Also, the collar keeps my head from falling off.”

"Huh?"

⋅∴∵∴∵∴∵⁂∵∴∵∴∵∴⋅

One day, many days later, Leshy and that same yellow furred cat he hangs around barge into the Lamb’s office.

The yellow cat stutters, face turning more red than yellow. “Hey, Leader, so… um…”

Leshy cuts off yellow cat, “I have utilized this lowly cat’s perfect genes to mother a demigod heir to rival your tyranny, foul Lamb.”

Leshy holds up an egg. It is the cult’s first birth.

The Lamb stares, at a loss for words, “What?… an *egg*? I thought you’re both male? Didn’t you just… HOW?”

“Do not underestimate the power of my clitellum, small-minded mammal!” Says the green earthworm.

The yellow cat mumbles, traumatized, “I didn’t even realize we were having sex that way, worms are so weird…”

⋅∴∵∴∵∴∵⁂∵∴∵∴∵∴⋅

The egg is about to hatch. Yellow Cat, Leshy, Lamb, Shamura, Kallamar, Narinder, and Heket have gathered around to watch.

Kallamar delivers the baby and, despite being a potent source of slime himself, he recoils at the albumin and viscera.

Yellow Cat and Lamb are the only one’s to greet the new life with smiles, everyone else grimaces at the hideous abomination of nature. Except for Leshy and Shamura, who have no idea what’s happening.

Leshy asks, “Well? Is it mighty? DOES IT HAVE MY TEETH?” 

Kallamar wrinkles his lack of a nose, “It’s… uh, I mean, I guess it is healthy, but…”

Narinder says, “It’s an ‘it’, alright. Aym and Baal were much cuter kits.”

“SACRILEGIOUS BEAST, GIVE ME THE RED CROWN, SO I MAY SEE MY CHILD THROUGH IT!” The horned worm leaps at the Lamb, trying to wrestle the Red Crown away from them.

“NEVER! IT’S MINE! MY PRECIOUS!” The woolly God of Death roars as they push the ex-god off them. Narinder rolls his eyes.

Yellow cat says, nervously, “They’re… I mean, I love them, and they’re a perfect ball of joy… but…”

“WON’T SOMEONE TELL ME HOW OUR CHILD LOOKS?!” Leshy cries.

“… ugly…” Heket croaks.

Leshy falls to his knees, “NOOOOOOO!”

Yellow cat turns to the Lamb and gently hands the baby to them.

“Leader, we talked it over, and we thought it’d be best if you name it.” Yellow cat says.

The Lamb smiles, “I’d be honored to-”

“Wait, no, what were you thinking, cat? GET AWAY FROM MY DEMIGOD, GOD-MURDERER! Godparent Shamura, you shall name it!” Leshy commands.

The ex-chaos bishop rips the infant away from the Lamb and thrusts it into Shamura’s arms, who is about as surprised as everyone else.

The concussed spider looks down at their new niece/nephew, cradling it in two of their arms while gently wrapping it in a silk swaddle with another two. Tiny malformed fingers wrap around a thin chitinous thumb.

Shamura mumbles, “Hmm… Yes. I see you, lowliest worm, just begun. Becoming our moon, yet you reached for the sun. Zero becomes one becomes two. You are named ‘Metztli’, aren’t you? She has your eyes, Leshy. And my thumb.”

The yellow cat smiles, “‘Metztli’, what a beautiful name. Leshy, your eye looked like that? They’re so pretty!”

⋅∴∵∴∵∴∵⁂∵∴∵∴∵∴⋅

Several days later, after returning from an impromptu crusade, Lamb knocks on Leshy and the yellow cat’s door. They are greeted by the cat.

The Lamb says, “Hello! I have a gift for Meztli… uh, Metzi? Mets-klee-”

“Metztli?” The cat corrects.

Lamb nods, “Yes, that. I can speak in tongues, how do you do that?”

The Lamb gives the yellow cat a small box. The feline follower opens it to find a single fine golden bell on a soft ribbon necklace. It is expertly engraved with the name Metztli.

Lamb says, their own bell jingling, “I’ve been worrying about her… I just wanted to keep her safe.”

⋅∴∵∴∵∴∵⁂∵∴∵∴∵∴⋅

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

September August July June

Note: these are not in any order!

The night before Halloween by @ladytessa74

M | 21k

This is the cutest thing ever!! And also spooky. TK & Carlos and their five-year-old Elijah celebrate Halloween, go to a pumpkin patch and receive some unwanted visitors. Tessa’s TK & Carlos are as syrupy sweet as ever, but add on the cuteness of Elijah, aka Koala Bear, and I’m 🫠

Suddenly, in the Silence by @carlos-in-glasses

E | 10k

Another banger from Cig. TK & Carlos ride out a storm at Andrea’s house and are visited by a specter (maybe?). This is a beautiful look at faith and spirituality, and how people cope with the question of what happens after when you lose someone. Things I love: TK knowing nothing about cars but making them go vroom, Andrea and Tía Lucy with their seances, Carlos being a grumpy kitten, TK sashaying around in his fancy silk pajamas, the family dynamics of Andrea, TK & Carlos. They’re just so comfortable with each other in this fic, it feels so natural.

Road Rash by vaguenotion

T | 12k

Wow!!! The tension in this one. TK and Judd take a trip to visit Judd’s dad and encounter some nefarious characters on the way home. The Judd & TK brotherly dynamic is top notch here. The action, the pacing, the twists! All done so well. Cliche as it sounds, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.

The Shadow by @itsrandomnobody7

T | 4.5k

Tarlos as pirates! I loved this concept! A very sweet story with one of my favorite visuals: Judd and Nancy fighting back to back.

Even if the World Ends Tomorrow by @bonheur-cafe

T | 12k

In this post-apocalyptic story TK & Carlos remember to celebrate their anniversary when the bluebonnets bloom 🥹 Carlos is injured and TNT has to treat him with limited resources. Lots of beautiful imagery here and sweet Tarlos moments.

come what may, I'll still stay by @strandnreyes

E | 26k

This is a very interesting and probably realistic look at what Carlos would be like if he did become a detective. He is so like Owen, and I love the way that aspect of his personality is explored here. Lots of juicy Tarlos tension. The story gives TK a lot of room to really feel his feelings in a way that feels true to character.

The Knave of Hearts . . . brought back the tarts by @liminalmemories21

E | 60k

Another incredible installment of the beloved art heist series! I highly recommend reading the first two before this one. The first two stories were so much about Carlos coming to terms with his past and learning to trust TK. This part TK has to grapple with insecurities stemming from his own history. And there’s another really fun heist!! Also spotting the Easter eggs and twists on canon is a lot of fun too.

Made it Easier Somehow by @paperstorm

T | 1.6k

Soft little moment of Carlos coming home after a late shift to find his husband asleep on the couch, having tried and failed to wait up for him. TK through Carlos’s eyes is always very sweet, but especially when Carlos is reflecting on what their relationship means to him.

RWRB

Where There Are Octobers by @iboatedhere

E | 51k

I was delighted to see Rae doing her daily October prompt fills again this year, even if it’s not for my favorite boys this time. Every day is a different little adventure, from doctors to strangers in the park to assassins on the run. The characterization and the dialogue is so, so spot on in every universe.

As always, this is not in any way a comprehensive list of all the good stuff that came out in October. This is the stuff that I was able to read and vibed with. This is a way for me to hype the stories that got me excited this month, and I encourage everybody to be intentional in reblogging fics and screaming about the stuff you’re reading and enjoying all month long. Let’s work to build this fandom into a more inclusive and encouraging place to create! Also, caveat that the Gabriel grief stuff is tough for me, so I’ve been avoiding and/or very slowly making my way through those ones

[eff-plays]

A personal rant about BG3, Larian, and writing fanfic

So let me preface this by saying that I'm weird. I'm a weirdo. I don't fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on?

I am not really a fanfiction writer, which is ironic considering some of my first writing was fanfiction. Since then, it's been nothing but original fiction. The Wayhaven Chronicles was the game I started writing actual fanfic for, and that was only a couple of years ago (nobody look at me I haven't updated in forty years). I'm very new to the genre, basically. I barely even read fanfic, as for most of my life I've just been like "Well it's not canon anyway so what's the point of it?" and it's only recently that I've gotten more into it and understood the "point".

That is all to say that when I started writing my BG3 Tavstarion (I know, so new and never seen before) fic, I wanted it to be based as closely on the game as possible. To the point where I would boot up the game to get the smallest details right; which boxes were where and had what in them, the inflection of a character's voice, the movements, the animations. I could look it up on Youtube, but it felt like cheating -- I had to be there, as my OC, and filter it all first-hand through their thoughts. That way, my fic would have a solid foundation of canon on which I would build their story.

I admit, that's the main reason I've kept the game installed despite burning out of actually playing it months ago. Because of my stupid OC that I love. Here's what I even made the Steam banner look like.

It might be silly -- I would never hold a fic I read to these dumbfuck standards, anyway -- but it felt right. I'm writing a canon-compliant fic, so of course I need canon to support it. Maybe not to the extent I was doing it, but the fundamental idea made sense to me. I wanted my deviations from canon to be minimal and well-informed. Because I loved the canon and that's what made me love the game, and in turn my OC. It was all connected, you see?

Which brings me to the patches. The updates. The scene changes. All of it. I wanted to stay true to the game, so I hung onto it for dear life, letting it clog up my PC's storage just in case I needed it for fic purposes. But now ... what's the point? Larian won't leave well enough alone, so to which version am I staying true? Why should I respect canon when Larian can change it at any moment if a vocal minority has issues with something I personally enjoy and want to include in a fic? At this point, my personal experience doesn't matter -- my Tav's version of the game doesn't exist anymore. So looking up stuff on Youtube feels right. In fact, it might be my only choice, if I want to see the version of the game where they first and best existed.

And you might think "Wow Eff, that's a long-winded and melodramatic way of saying you're uninstalling the game!" Well, yeah. This is my personal gaming blog, so of course I will put my big gamer feels on here. That's just what I do. But this is the first time this has happened to me, where I feel like there's just no point in respecting canon at all, and I want to document that feeling. I was trying desperately to stay true to Larian's vision, playing the game when it brought me no joy just so I could then write fic which does bring me joy. But why do that? Larian does not respect me, and more importantly, they don't respect their own stories. So why should I?

Anyway, yeah. I'm uh. Uninstalling the game, finally. I will keep writing my fic, as that still brings me joy, and apologies for getting shit wrong, but at this point the game I remember doesn't exist anyway, so what's the point in getting the current game right?

The only thing I'll miss is being able to take screenshots of my Tav, and making gifs of them. I modded in a unique face for them (and long-time followers will know how much I struggled with that) and now that won't be as easily accessible anymore. I don't think it's a waste, though, not with how much joy it brought me, and I'll still have the files. Maybe I'll come back in a few months and gaze upon them again.

Goodbye for now, my blorbo. You will always be loved. The game you're from? Not so much.

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

How Law Treats Your Depression

Crossposted from my AO3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/44915341 

TW’s: SH (not explicit detail, but talked about, and checking the healing of it), mentions of manipulation, depressive thoughts, symptoms of anxiety and depression.

I wrote this when I was goin through a rough patch. No romance exactly, just fluff. It makes me want to cry every time I read it so I’m sorry in advance if it makes you feel the same way.

The symptoms Law lists are from the DSM 5 and my own experiences. 

----

You raised your hand, shaking from anxious hesitation. The door seemed to loom in front of you, being an impenetrable shield to your glimmer of hope for a cure.

“Oh, are you going to see the captain?” said a voice behind you. You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around with your fist still raised. You calmed once you laid eyes on Bepo. You exhaled with a small smile.

“Uh… I... I think…  well, it can wait” you managed to get out, stumbling over your words. Bepo cocked his head.

“It’s okay, Come in with me. I just have a quick question and then you can talk to him.” His wide body was accidentally corralling you towards the door as he knocked twice.

“Come in” said a voice gravely with exhaustion. Bepo smiled at you and gestured for you to open the door. You gulped but followed his silent request. Will Law even help me? I’m not technically part of his crew. Still, he healed Luffy after Marineford. I’m part of the Strawhats and we’re allied but… your anxious thoughts garbled the mundane question and answer that occurred between Bepo and Law, and before you realized it, the bear was leaving the room with a small pat on your shoulder.

“So?” Law said, cocking an eyebrow at you. Your heart thudded.

“Uh… it… It’s not too big of a deal” you began, trying to scramble for words to voice your request.

“But you’re a doctor, right?” you asked. You cringed at the dumb question. This was why you proposed this whole internship in the first place! Sure, learning about the submarine would help your crew eventually somehow, but… you had to follow through on your real reason for coming here.

“Are you feeling okay?” Law asked. There was a tone of professionalism in his voice now, different than the regular voice he used as a captain.

“Yeah I’m fine!” you replied automatically with a forced smile. His brow furrowed.

“Then why do you need a doctor?” he prodded. You swallowed, looking down. Your heart thudded and your stomach dropped.

“If… If I tell you some hypothetical symptoms, would you be able to give m… uh… the patient, a cure?”

He leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled under his chin.

“Maybe. There may not be a cure exactly, but medicine or surgery could help. Or both” he said, shrugging. You didn’t like the gleam in his eye when he mentioned surgery.

“Oh” you muttered disappointedly. Law sighed and gestured to a seat.

“Sit. Tell me about the patient’s hypothetical symptoms.”

You sat stiffly in the chair, bouncing your leg nervously as you steadied your breath.

“Where should I start?” you asked, glancing at the captain. He hummed in thought.

“Start with the physical symptoms. Aching? Discomfort? Sweating? Redness? Exhaustion?” he rattled off easily. You furrowed your brow, thinking. Back to when your symptoms really acted up.

“Um… exhaustion for sure. They sleep a lot, and minor tasks seem to make them tired. Not like physically exerted, but just like they need a break mentally?”

“Any other physical symptoms?”

“Hmmm… does crying count?”

“From physical pain?”

“No… but sometimes it’s accompanied by a fast heartrate and hyperventilating. Oh, and a decreased appetite” you reported factually, gazing upwards as you thought. Law hummed.

“What about mental symptoms?”

“M-mental?” your heart dropped. This was the part you were worried about.

“Mental distress often leads to those physical symptoms.”

You held back a scoff. Mental distress? It’s not that big of a deal.

“Symptoms like what?” you asked quietly. You refused to look at the doctor.

“Low self esteem past the normal amount, feeling like a weight is holding you down, feeling worthless or guilty for things that aren’t your fault, decreased concentration, and loss of interest in things the patient used to like” he listed. He hesitated before he continued in the same even tone “thoughts of hurting themselves or others, and thoughts of killing themselves.”

You flinched at the last two. This guy really does not pull punches when it comes to medical stuff you thought with an internal shudder.

“It sounds way worse when you say it out loud” you muttered under your breath.

“I have a hunch this patient has a combination of two illnesses- depression and anxiety- which are very common together. Should I list the symptoms of anxiety, and you can tell me if it seems to fit?”

You sighed, but nodded.

“Worrying excessively about things and finding it difficult to control the worry, muscle tension, restlessness, easily mentally fatigued, mind going blank or difficulty concentrating, irritability, sleep disturbance…” he listed, trailing off.

“Basically, worry and stress that goes beyond the norms. So, like not about being embarrassed, or away from people, or during a panic attack. Of course, panic disorders are basically part of anxiety disorders and are just an intense episode of an accumulation of different symptoms, which you mentioned with the fast heartrate and hyperventilating. There’s also probably some other symptoms yo- uh- the patient doesn’t notice during the time, or doesn’t know it’s a symptom”

You tried to absorb the onslaught of information thrown your way. You rubbed your temples. Law seemed to notice your struggle.

“I know it’s a lot of information all at once” he said sympathetically. You sighed. There was only one question you had. You looked into the captain’s grey eyes.

“Is there a cure?”

The captain hesitated, but leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk and met your gaze resolutely.

“No”

Your heart dropped, and your lungs constricted. Your throat burned as you fought back tears.

“There’s no cure, but there’s medicine that can help.”

“Right” you muttered as you stood. You had your answer. You needed to leave.

“Wait.”

You paused, hand on the door. You didn’t look back.

“What’s been done to treat it before? It’ll help me narrow down a more effective medicine.”

You huffed, hiding your distraught behind a veil of humor.

“Nothing. Been rawdoggin this bitch the way God intended” you said, keeping your voice light. You heard a snort behind you.

“I’ll give you what I use then. We’ll start with that.”

You froze. I’m not alone? He has it too? You turned slowly in shock. He met your gaze.

“If it doesn’t seem to work, call me, and we’ll try something different. Eventually if we exhaust all the medicine, there is a more radical solution. It’s for treatment resistant forms of depression.” You took a few steps toward him.

“Why do you call it an illness? Aren’t I just weak?”

A small, soft smile escaped Law’s lips as he looked at you in a rare moment of gentleness.

“No. You’re not weak. It has to do with chemicals in your brain. Doctors aren’t exactly sure what triggers it, and it’s usually triggered by different things in different people. But it’s a chemical imbalance that occurs, and the medicine is to help correct that balance. Of course, talking to people is also incredibly important. Have you talked to anyone in your crew about it?”

You shook your head absently, mystified that there was a real reason you felt this way.

“No. They don’t know. They might suspect, but I’ve never said anything. I couldn’t bring myself to tell sweet, innocent Chopper that I wanted to hurt myself on purpose” you said easily.

“Have you?”

You flinched at the question, wrapping your arms around your middle.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes”

You glared at him.

“A little” you finally muttered.

“How?”

“Does that matter?” you said defensively.

“As your doctor, yes” he said gently. You bit the inside of your lower lip to stop yourself from spouting venom. He’s not attacking you or demanding to know for selfish reasons. He needs to know. You took a deep breath and slunk over to your previous seat to collapse in it. You held your head in your hands.

“I try not to, you know. I resist for as long as possible until I finally can’t find any logic against not doing it” you say eventually.

“How do you do it?” he repeats, softly. You sigh, looking to the side. You tell him. The words just flow out, accompanying the tear tracks down your cheeks in a delicate dance of pain and regret. When you’re done explaining, he stands slowly, approaching you slowly.

“I’m going to check the healing of it. That’s all. I just want to be sure it’s healing properly so you don’t have further issues when you’re better” he said softly, holding out a hand. I wish it didn’t heal you thought before pushing the negativity away.

“You sound so sure I’m going to get better” you said as his hands delicately grazed over the area.

“You will. Maybe not cured, but better.” You hummed, welcoming the companionable silence. A thought occurred to you, and you snorted. Law stepped back and raised a brow.

“Something funny?”

“Isn’t it ironic that the so-called ‘Surgeon of Death’ is helping me with… this?” you said, waving your hand in the air as if to gesture to your mental state. He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes. Very funny” he said flatly.

“Well at least I’m that” you teased.

“You’re so much more than that. If you can’t see it, trust those around you to. They see you the same way you see the positives in others” Law said, holding your gaze. You stopped breathing, eyes widened with shock.

“What, have you never had anyone tell you that?” he asked, looking at your expression. He leaned back against his desk, halfway sitting on it as he crossed his arms. You could only shake your head as you remembered to breathe. He grunted.

“Well. Remember it. Come back here same time tomorrow to pick up the medicine too. We’ll talk a little more too.”

You didn’t move, too shook that someone cared about you enough to do this.

“I’m sorry” you whispered. Tears gathered in your eyes again.

“Why?” Law seemed bewildered at the idea.

“I must’ve manipulated you somehow to care about me. To go through this… you don’t have to. It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll live”

“I guarantee I am the last person on this ship you could manipulate” he said. Something warm and slightly heavy plopped on your head. A white hat brim entered your field of vision. You shrunk down further, starting to sob.

“You’re part of my crew, even temporarily. Even if I wasn’t your captain, I’m your doctor. You only told me the symptoms that you hide so well, not even saying at first that it was you who had it. How could you have manipulated me?”

He knelt in front of you, producing a tissue and handing it to you. He rested his hand on your head, securing his hat.

“If you see a good person who’s sick, would you help them if you could?” he asked gently. You nodded slightly, wiping the snot dripping from your nose.

“Then why wouldn’t I help you? You deserve basic human decency and respect, you know. Right now, you’re treating yourself worse than your enemies.” He said softly. Your sobs increased at his words. He sighed.

“C’mere.” He lifted you up bridal style and took your seat, holding you on his lap. You pushed him away.

“Hey. It’s okay. You’re not hurting me. You’re not manipulating me. I’m doing this of my own accord. When’s the last time you had a real hug like this?”

You shuddered in a breath, unable to speak through your sobs. His warm hand rubbed your back, and you let your head fall onto his shoulder.

“T-t-thank… you” you wailed.

“Always” he muttered.

--

“Are they okay?!” Shachi whisper-yelled as Law passed him the hallway with you cradled in his arms.

“They will be” he replied quietly. He didn’t want to disturb your tear-induced sleep. You looked peaceful, finally. He saw the pain in your eyes, the pain you had inflicted on yourself. Shachi nodded in understanding and continued on his way. Law carried you gently to your bunk and tucked you under the blankets. He removed his hat, knowing it would make you feel guilty if he let you sleep with it. Smoothing stray hair away from your face with his hand, he unthinkingly dropped a gentle kiss on your forehead. A light blush dusted his cheeks with the realization of what he’d done. He stood quickly and walked quietly from your sleeping form.

“Sleep well”

[queenlilithprime]

NSFW Alphabet - Lilith Obergene

For the curious ones... (Reminder: Lilith is a self-insert but also not a 1-to-1 me. My friends can ship Lily with their charas but if we aren't friends please ask first!)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Extremely attentive, will get water, snacks, will clean their partner off… turn on a movie, give lots of affection and cuddling afterwards. They’ll always make sure to help their lover wind down especially after rough sessions.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On their body? Probably their tits, thighs, or ass, but if you want a real answer, their eyes. On your body? Hands, neck, thighs… ass...

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Doesn’t have much of a taste but it takes forever to get Lilith to climax!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a secret dacryphilia kink, likes the idea of their lover just absolutely ravaging them and making them unable to think.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In most canons they are extremely experienced! In some however, like in the Camp Willowpeak universe, they are a virgin.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press, up against a wall… basically just fuckin wreck them <33

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Pretty serious! Can be lighthearted in some moments but does take sex more seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

90% of the time they’re fully shaved, the other 10% they have a heart patch.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Most of the time that they have sex it’s not super intimate but Lily can be very romantic with someone that they have a relationship with.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Very often… almost too often…

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sadism, Masochism, Bondage, BDSM, Breeding, Hair-pulling, Dacryphilia, Edging, Overstim, Begging (Especially being made to beg), Biting, Lingerie, Praise and Degradation, Playfighting, Oral, Facesitting, Choking, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Cock-warming, Rough Sex, Spanking, Shibari, Collaring, Cream-pies… you get the idea

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed, Shower, Bent over a table, pretty much anywhere you can fuck them

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sensual touches, affectionate words, showing sexual interest in them will definitely rev their engine

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Age-play! Gross-out Kinks! No Daddy kinks! Mommy kinks are fine. Nothing Anal </3 will peg partners but otherwise its a no-no

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oral fixation go brrrr, prefers eating pussy over sucking dick but will absolutely give their penis-having partner head, and might make them lose their mind a lil, they’re good. Albeit if a little shy to be on the receiving end

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Tries to start out slow but once they get into the pleasure of it will want more and more until it’s a pretty steadily quick pace.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Likes them! Loves to take their time with partners but also enjoys the risk of being caught.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Most things are cool with them, outside of their no-no list they’ll try pretty much anything at least once

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Human: 13 hours Succubus: Infinite Vampire: 27 hours

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Any toy you can think of, they have. Tons of dildos, tons of vibrators, lots of bondage gear.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

1000000000% loves teasing on either end

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Soft breathy whimpers and moans, pretty quiet. Gets really flustered by dirty talk.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Can be the most sadistic dom you’ve ever met or the most pathetic whiny sub ever.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

J-Cup tits, bigger ass, large thighs, small waist… Even when they aren’t a succubus in some worlds they still look like one lol

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Hypersexual

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

They stay awake long enough to get to the cuddles portion of aftercare. They’ll try to stay up if there’s a movie but will pass out shortly after.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 17 - Panties!

You and Gale chat about linguistics. Astarion has elf ears and thus, elf hearing. Ruh-roh.

Rated M for language and violence. Still not for smut, because when I said this was a slow burn, I meant it and also Eleanor is demisexual, so does not compute for her (yet).

On AO3.

You don’t make it much further before calling quits. Between your horror vomiting, Lae’zel’s brush with acid, and the rest of the party being generally wrung out from killing a wholeass owlbear, y’all are beat.

Camp is in a pretty, little clearing just off the trail. The grass is soft—and joyously free of ticks—with patches of pretty, yellow flowers. It’s a clear night; the moon is a great, big silver plate, and the spray of unfamiliar stars overhead shine bright and crystalline.

While Lae’zel scrapes the brains out of the skull of the owlbear, the others hunker down for a good and proper soup. It’s mostly vegetables, with sliced sausages, and you’re so, so fucking thankful Gale kept spices in his magical go bag. More than salt and pepper, too. You’re picking up traces of chili powder, paprika, and even a taste of cumin, you think. Not bad at all.

After your meal, y’all sit around for a bit. Astarion returns from scouting and takes his bowl back to his tent. Mr. Fancypants doesn’t like eating with commoners. It’s the first night everyone’s free, not working on spells or meditating or sulking alone. But the mood is still heavy and subdued.

Fucking cults will do that.

You wonder if your group’d listen to White people ghost stories—the Cherokee ones you do not tell at night out in the open.

You kick back and stare at the red line dancing around the edges of the embers.

Your stomach is still sore; throat still scratchy. And your headache is a constant grind. Must be the brainworm chewing on your gray-meats. The others hide their own discomfort pretty good—though that might just be the whole “not human” thing. Except Gale is human. Does he have wizard ibuprofen?

You stare into the fire some more and resist the urge to palm your right eye and press until you see sparkles.

The next thing you know, everyone has moved around the fire.

You sit up. Look around. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are arguing over the importance of keeping trophies (which Shadowheart dismisses as barbaric nonsense). Astarion is now standing outside his tent with a book propped open on one arm. You literally blinked and they all moved. What the fu—

“Are you alright?” Gale says. He was opposite you on the whole other side of the fire. Now he leans on the same fallen log you rest against with his own book sitting in his lap.

“I,” you say. You lost time. You completely lost, at minimum, several minutes. You try to breathe normal, instead of panting like a sick dog. “Yeah. I just…zoned out pretty good right there.”

Gale frowns. “’Zone?’ How would you use area as a verb?”

God, your head hurts.

You flap a hand. “Means I wasn’t paying attention, is all. D’you, you got anything for a headache? The stress has got my neck wound so tight it could crack a walnut.”

“Mmm, I don’t think so. Shadowheart may have an easier time of it. Are you…?”

He pauses. There’s more than confusion etched into his brow. It looks suspiciously like concern.

“Are you having any other symptoms?” he says in a low voice.

You look at him until it clicks. The whole face melting thing. All the stuff he’s described.

“No, no,” you say. “I don’t think it’s any of that. I woke up with this back on the butthole—I mean, the nautiloid.”

But his eyebrows have already shot up to his hairline. “The what? I’m not sure that translated accurately.”

Oh shit.

You groan. “No, it probably did. It’s what I been calling the nautiloid, before I learned its name. The doors on there looked like, well, buttholes. So I just went with it.”

His mouth opens. No words come out. You’ve shocked Mr. Verbose into silence. You almost give yourself a high five.

“I named all you’uns,” you continue, a bit more of Uncle Randy’s vernacular slipping in. It feels nice, letting your tongue slide back into that cadence. Feels like relaxing. Once you’d moved away, you tried to soften your country accent, fold it up into neat, shortened northern.

“I can only hope it was more sophisticated than your naming convention for the ship,” Gale says.

“You were mumu.” You wait. His expression doesn’t change, so the dirt potion must not’ve had a decent replacement for that. So you explain it, and by the end, he’s got a wry sort of smile.

“I can state with full confidence I’ve been called much worse,” Gale says. “Though it is a slight blow to my ego that I couldn’t impress any of my more noteworthy traits over my wardrobe.”

“It was either that or mullet.”

Having explained that, he proceeds to quiz you on the others, stumbling only over “goth.” But educated on that, he agrees with you on all counts.

“We’d been calling you Tav,” he says. At your blank face, “It’s a name used for orphans or someone whose name isn’t known, usually due to illness or injury. Quite common.”

Tav. It’s…their version of Jane Doe?

Then Gale’s face twists up. You can’t tell if it’s some flavor of perplexed, or if there’s a hint of amusement around his eyes. “Though I am curious how you’d gotten a glimpse at Astarion’s pants?”

You stare. Twist to find Astarion lounging on a nest of pillows he’s somehow managed to collect—he stole them from the tieflings, didn’t he.

“He’s wearing them?” you say and gesture with your thumb.

Gale’s whole face opens in surprise (relief?). “Ah! Another translation quirk. We call the outer garments trousers. The inner clothing is called pants, or smallclothes.”

You sit there. He’s definitely amused, now. Because you’ve been calling Astarion ‘Fancy Underwear.’ Good god. You’re so glad you figured that one out with Gale.

“Right,” you say. Your face definitely doesn’t feel warm. Not at all.

“Apologies for the distraction, and back to your headache. So you have no other symptoms.”

“I mean.” You gesture to your face, which as far as you can tell by touch is still your face. Goddamn, you haven’t had a proper bath in days. At least y’all are camped next to a stream; you can keep on dunking yourself as best you can. Still, no moisturizer or shampoo. Your elbows are getting rough.

“It’s all rather odd,” Gale says. “We should be halfway through the gestational process, yet none of us—aside from possibly you—have shown any sign of it. Either your being from a different plane has made you more susceptible, or our own physiology has shielded the rest of us. But Lae’zel isn’t a local, either, and even you aren’t following the standard process, as I understand it.”

He studies you a long moment. His lips press thin. But then he sighs and shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think you alone are going through the melt-change-condition.” You catch the vague shape of the actual word he uses behind the magical translation, but can’t suss it out. “I think it safe to assume this is merely the stress from all of this. I would suggest you find a way to relax, but, well.”

Lae’zel has finished both her scraping and her argument. She settles down next to a big, stone wheel that starts to spin as her foot taps a pedal. You watch, curiously, until she lifts her brains-scraping knife and you realize that sumbitch is a fucking grinder.

The noise shoots right through your eyeball to lodge deep in your aching brain.

“Nice talk, Gale, I’m getting out of here,” you say.

He winces next to you. Nods. “I’ll retire to my tent and see if I can’t come up with something in my stores to help with that ache of yours. In your head. That you mentioned.”

He rolls to his feet super spry for someone with gray streaks in his hair. He gives a little bow with his head, which you return with a nod as you make your way to the opposite side of the camp from Lae’zel.

Which happens to be where Astarion has set himself up for the night. Almost like he didn’t want to be around someone scooping out a dead owlbear head.

He glances up as you near. Watches you sink down into the grass nearby. You pause for a moment, considering, and flop onto your back in a full sprawl beneath the stars.

You don’t say anything. Neither does he, for a long moment. He flips a page. The pounding in your brain begins to unclench. Turns another page.

“So,” he says in a fucking tone.

“Oh god,” you say preemptively.

“You think my pants are fancy?”

Fucking elf ears. Of course he fucking heard you. Of fucking course.

You cover your face with one arm. “Would you stop if I said it was a mistranslation and I meant your trousers?”

“Whyever would I do that?”

Whyever would he. The man is a fucking menace.

Thing is, you’ve been so polite and quiet this whole time (until today, really). But Mother and the other leadership saw something in you, even as a child. And they weren’t exactly wrong about it (just the part where it was bad bad sinful bad the devil shame shame bad).

You turn to squint at him through the throbbing in your skull. “Are they?”

“Are what, dear?”

“Your underwear. Are they fancy?”

Bitch doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. He wants to give some, he better be able to take some.

You almost miss his hesitation, it’s so fast. Then his malicious smirk is back on and he snaps his book shut. Spins to face you. “They are, actually. I would ask the same of you, but I’m rather sure you’re not wearing any.”

“Nope,” you say, popping the “p” and waggling your legs back and forth in the grass. Outbrazen that, chucklefuck.

His mask doesn’t even crack. Not a flinch, not a micro expression; the man is stone cold fucking with you. “Are those not a norm in your realm, either?”

“Oh, they are, I just didn’t have them on me when I got grabbed.” Let him wonder about that. Dare him to fucking ask. The reason is you were asleep, but he doesn’t know that. “Unless we find some kinda clothing store soon, I think I’m gonna have to make some myself.”

He leans forward to rest an elbow on his bent knee. “I could help you with that, you know.”

You…can’t tell if he’s being serious.

“I ain’t wearing your drawers, fancy man. You only got the one pair anyway, unless you’re walk around with spares in your pockets.”

To this, he grimaces. “I didn’t need the reminder. All the material we’ve come across has been roughspun, mildewed, or both. Not a scrap of silk to be seen anywhere.”

You turn your head to frown at him for a long moment. Because yeah, that tracks. Of course this floof-haired, ridiculous city man wears silk drawers. You should not be so surprised at this. But also…

“You expecting to find you some silk out here in the boonies?” you say.

Now it’s his turn to frown. You watch his lips form the word “boonies.”

“Outside the city,” you say. “Back woods, back water, the sticks, wilderness, middle of fucking nowhere.”

“Hmm. No, I suppose I didn’t. People travel through here, but not the sort to own any apparel worth salvaging, would they? No, you’re correct.”

You say nothing to that. Content to lie beneath the moon and let the conversation about y’all’s panties die a quiet, natural death.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch his head tilt. He’s watching you.

“That was a clever little plan, back there,” he says after a moment. “I dare say, you thought further ahead than any of the others regarding those cultists. And regarding how to deal with them. It was very clean—efficient, even if their deaths were very much not. It’s a shame you had to leave us so quickly back in that den.”

To vomit.

You’re not gonna out-edgey the edgelord here. Simpler to go for the boring answers. “Ain’t used to seeing something like that. Horror is a normal response to people getting torn up back where I come from.”

“Mmm. Sounds terribly dull. And yet, for someone so inexperienced,” he makes some gesture that either their version of air quotes or him just being a theater kid, “you came to that conclusion quickly and you saw it through. Against some objections, even.”

Objections from half of them. Or only Gale, really, as the only part Lae’zel hadn’t liked was the sneak factor. She seemed pleased as punch when then owlbear turned on y’all and she got to hack it to pieces.

And Gale got over it all well enough to come hang out with you at camp.

These fucking people.

And goddamnit, you’re fitting in.

You find him with his chin propped up, his gaze fixed on you.

“I have never, in my life, had to deal with this kinda shit before,” you say. “I’m just…getting ideas as we go along and trying not to die.”

“Quite vicious ideas.”

Your neck is hot. You turn away, point your face at the sky as if the cold starlight will chill the head building over your cheeks.

He’s not wrong. You have a ruthless streak, you know. Part of your whole healing process was recognizing and accepting that part of yourself. And you had. And now, you wonder if that is part of the problem. If you hadn’t just gone down into your mental basement to feed the monsters there, but you’d pulled up that cellar door and leapt in yourself.

You feel guilt, for sure. But you already know you’d do it again. You’d put up that ruthless streak in a shoebox and set it up on a tall shelf in a back closet in your brain. But now you went and you opened that up, and it’s working for you. It’s a tool and a weapon, and it might be your best shot at surviving all this.

“Your ideas got you out of that crash,” Astarion says. “They kept you with all of us, saved you from that bandit, and effectively took control of our little band of miscreants.”

“What? I’m not—”

You didn’t take control. Did you? They went along with one horrible idea. Or two, actually, with Kahga. Except there were several ideas involved in that—

You’re not the leader.

You’re not.

“And even now, that mind of yours is plotting out our continued survival, isn’t it?” he says. “You might be a useful person to know.”

“Well thank you, darlin,’” you drawl.

He makes a sound that forces your attention back to him. You catch his eyebrows raised, eyes round. The laugh is more of a snort, and he seems as surprised at it as he does at…whatever caused it.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“That’s just a saying,” you start.

But he’s already waving it off. “Not to worry. I believe I’ll leave you to your little respite away from that cacophony. Take a walk and get some air, myself.”

Oh shit, you weirded him out. It’s just a phrase. Old, southern ladies you’ve never met call you “sugar” and “honey” all the time.

He stands. Sweeps the wrinkles out of his clothes—mostly his silly, frilly shirt. Then he gives you some ridiculous, over-the-top, one-arm-in-the-air courtly bow. “Do sleep tight, darling.”

He wanders off. The wind hisses in the trees. Lae’zel’s grinder screeches like a thousand souls of the damned, and your brain worm nibbles contentedly at a piece of your pre-frontal cortex.

“Jesus christ,” you say and roll over to lie face down in the grass.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter